Gods of the Dead (Rising Book 1) (19 page)

“No! All part of the job, dude,” he replies defensively. “She wants out fast so she volunteers for the hard gigs.”

“What does that mean?”

“Why do you care?”

“Knowledge gets me hard. What does it mean?”

He shakes his head, stalling because he thinks it make him tough to make me wait. “It means she’s laying out for the Pikes.”

My blood roars in my veins, liquid fire that tenses every muscle in my body. It’s all I can do to keep it under control. To keep from lashing out and breaking Bennett’s head off in his own ass.

It’s nothing to do with the girl, with Seven. Or at least it’s not all about her. I’d be this angry over any of the girls being handed over to a Pike. Not only do they resent our house because we stole it from them, but those idiots are known for violence. For wanting to take what they’re paying for, even when it comes to them willingly. Most of the girls won’t go anywhere near them, but there’s a couple that will agree now and then because of the bigger payout. Though from what I hear Bennett takes a big cut. Protection, he tells them, but most of the time, like right now, it doesn’t look like he’s earning his keep.

Bennett leaves to go bargain for his girls and I watch Seven prowl around the room. She walks slowly, tenderly, and I’m guessing she’s got at least one cracked rib. Probably two. She should go to the doctor and have them checked out but if she’s trying to kill her debt fast, seeing Doc isn’t the way to do it.

I turn back to the cage, rechecking the locks and minding my own business. I grab my clipboard and double check the lineup, looking to see if there are any takers for next week’s fight. The old rules don’t apply anymore. There’s no more patrol trying to thin the Risen population, so anyone can walk in and decide he wants to put in a bid to enter the fights. It ends ugly a lot of the time and that’s why I have to make sure I’ve always got a steady like Hyperion to anchor the night. Blood baths all three rounds don’t fill seats. People want at least one victory and some nights it’s tough to—

“Do you ever go inside the Arena?”

I look down, surprised into silence by her presence.

Seven is standing there next to me, gazing into the cage. Her throaty voice is quiet, subdued, and it’s the most raw I’ve ever heard it. The most real.

“No,” I finally answer. “Not anymore.”

“You’re retired?”

“I’m not allowed.”

“How can you not be allowed? I thought you ran it?”

I slam the clipboard onto the hook outside the cage. The wire on the exterior shakes with the movement and sends a strange hum over the entire Arena until it dies out somewhere near the top. It’s a living, breathing thing, the cage. It’s a beast that’s taken a lot of lives. It’s shed a lot of blood and it’s always humming, always begging for more.

“I run it for Marlow,” I explain blandly.

“And he won’t let you in? Is it because you’re no good?”

I chuckle at how wrong she is. “No. It’s not because I’m no good.”

“Is it because you’re
too
good?” she asks sarcastically.

“Something like that.”

“What about the Hydes?” she asks suddenly, her eyes still inside the cage. “Have they ever been inside?”

“Yeah, a couple times.”

She licks her lips anxiously, her pink tongue darting out over her swollen, busted skin. “Who?”

“You thinking about going in?”

Her eyes flash to mine and for one brief, odd moment they look excited. “I can’t. Right? I’m a woman.”

I shrug. “Just because I’ve never had a woman—”

“Never had a woman?” she asks, smiling slyly. “Vin, I’m shocked.”

I smile slowly down at her. “Never had a women in the ring.”

“Still feels like you’re falling short of my assumptions about you.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Well, when I met you I assumed you were a ruthless, sex obsessed, egotistical moron.”

“And now?”

She grins faintly. “You’re not as dumb as I first thought.”

I laugh from the gut, drawing looks in our direction. Seven obviously doesn’t like them. She doesn’t like being noticed or looked at or touched. I’m actually surprised she’s talking to me and I’m definitely shocked by the smiles I’ve seen. But they’re gone now.

“Marlow would never let me inside,” she tells the cage longingly.

“Have you asked?”

“Of course not. I don’t talk to that douchebag if I can help it.” She reaches up, her fingers slipping through the links in the fence and gripping the cage hard. “I don’t talk to any of you if I can help it.”

“You’re talking to me.”

“Don’t think I don’t regret it.”

“Ask him.”

She hesitates. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Lay off the Pikes, give yourself a chance to heal up, and fight.”

“Could you get me out of the Stables until I go into the cage?”

“No,” I admit bluntly. “Sorry. I can’t.”

She frowns as she releases the fence and takes a slow step back. “If I can’t quit the Stables then I can’t quit the Pikes.”

“They’re animals,” I argue.

“I know. That’s the reason why.”

“You like it rough?”

Her face erupts in flames of anger and for a split second I honestly feel like she’s going to come at me. That thought is weirdly satisfying.

“I don’t
like
any of this but I’ll do whatever I have to do to get out of here,” she replies sharply. “I stick with them because at least I can be myself with them. They want me to fight. They don’t want me to want them, and I don’t. It’s horrible but it’s the most honest part of my day. I get to punch and kick and claw, and yeah, they hit back but it makes it better somehow. I feel real when I’m fighting back. I feel strong.”

“But you lose,” I remind her, eyeing the purple bruise on her cheek. “Every time.”

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead she turns her back to the cage and surveys the room. She stands perfectly still, her face a blank page I wish I was able to read. “I may not win,” she whispers to herself, “but at least I try.”

“One night in the Arena could clear your entire debt.”

She looks up at me, her expression hard, and I wonder why I’m doing any of this. I don’t know for sure Marlow will let her in the cage. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ll have to cash in a favor or two to make it happen, and what will I gain? She won’t owe me anything and she’ll be gone. She’ll never set foot in the Hive again. So what’s in it for me?

Nothing. I’ll get nothing other than knowing I stopped it. I can’t look at any of the girls, see them this beaten and used up, and not either help them or murder every Pike I lay eyes on. And as much as murder would make me feel better, it would start a war. One I’m not willing to fight.

The part that kills me is that I can see it in her face that she can’t keep going like this. They’re going to break her and if I look into those eyes and see anything but the smoldering blaze I see right now, it’ll take something from me. Some part of myself I didn’t know I’d invested in her.

“When?” she asks.

“I wouldn’t want to put you in there until you’ve had a chance to recover. Two weeks at least.”

“Two weeks of Johns who want me to smile and say their name,” she surmises bitterly.

“Two weeks of pretending, one night in the Arena, and you could be gone forever,” I remind her.

She looks around the room at the crowd. I recognize a few Elevens. A couple Hyperions, including the champ and his kid brother. Three Pikes.

Her eyes linger on the three skinheads sitting at a table in the corner and her jaw clenches. When she looks at me I know exactly what she’s going to say.

“Sorry, Vin,” she says with a shake of her head. “I can’t do it any other way.”

“Your choice.”

“None of this is my fucking choice.” She turns to leave, heading straight for the table full of Pikes.

I don’t try to stop her.

Chapter Twenty

Trent

It’s fight night in the Arena. Kevin will already be there getting ready. He’ll have a drink and watch the girls come marching in. He’ll smile at them as they ask how he’s doing and run their fingers over his arms, through his hair, and he’ll pretend not to notice the one girl conspicuously uninterested in him.

I should be leaving soon but I’m not. I’m worried. I’m hesitating because I have a routine, the whole wild world has a routine, and tonight it’s fallen off course.

I sit in the Crow’s Nest on the high roof next door to the Hyperion Theater. I sit and I watch.

Droves of people are making their way toward the Hive. They come from all directions. All over town. Others are bringing in kills for the night – deer and rabbits. Foxes. They’ve been on the outskirts where the animals run. It’s an all day, exhausting job hunting in the outer areas of the city, and they aren’t done yet. They’ll have to clean, prep, and cook those animals. They’ll barely taste them before they collapse in bed for the night. Hunting is a hard job, harder than most would think, but it happens to be one of my favorites. But that’s consistent. It’s how it’s supposed to be.

What’s different is the Colonies. Their convoy vehicles are weaving up and down the streets in a sweeping pattern I’ve never seen them make before. The area they’re canvasing is more or less abandoned. I don’t know what they’re looking for but I’m afraid of who they’ll find.

There’s a girl living alone in the east. Every night she makes a run to one of her water sources. She doesn’t bother with the watering holes – the mass rain catches frequented by the gangs on Market days. She doesn’t go anywhere near other people. She dodges infected. She hunts in a small park nearby and hides in different buildings at night. Her dark red hair is a beacon in the gray streets, an easy mark for my eyes to find and follow. Until tonight. Tonight she hasn’t shown and tonight I worry.

The Colony convoys cruise the streets until they round a corner and find two boys coming in from the hunt. The boys pause, their payload slung over their backs as they stare in amazement at the trucks stopped in front of them. At the barricade blocking their path.

People get out of the trucks – all men, all armed – and they saunter slowly up to the boys. They speak for less than a minute. The boys shake their heads. The men step closer. The boys drop their kill, they try to run, but the Colonists are quick. They grab them and carry them kicking and screaming for the trucks. Others open the doors to the back and the boys are thrown inside. Quickly, that truck turns and leaves, heading back toward the Colony. The other two continue on into the city. They don’t go for the crowd headed toward the Hive. In fact they steer very clear of the south and the water. Instead they head north suddenly and I know what they’re doing.

They’re looking for the loners.

Loners like the girl.

I consider looking for her. I’ve seen a couple of buildings she’s slept in. I could find her water sites easily. If she’s out there, if they haven’t taken her yet, I can get to her. I can get to anyone. But would she want me to? A person avoiding the world the way she does isn’t interested in being hunted. Not by the Colonies and not by me, no matter how opposing our intentions.

I choose not to find her. I sit in my nest, I watch with tension in my spine, and I don’t leave for the Hive until I see her. Until a flash of red streaks across the street, cuts a Risen down quickly, and disappears inside a dark building. Only then do I leave. Only then do I breathe easily.

***

I rush to the Hive as fast as I can, but still I find Ryan alone in the stands. He’s waiting for the fight to start and when I see him alone I realize how late I am. Kevin doesn’t like leaving him by himself in the Hive and neither do I, but I have to do it for just a minute longer. I have to go tell Kevin about the roundups immediately. I’ll have to find him first.

I wave to Ryan up in the stands. He smiles and waves back, and I hold my index finger up in the air to signal that I’ll be back in one minute. I quickly walk the outskirts of the room, searching for Kevin, but he’s nowhere to be found.

“Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the Arena!” Vin’s voice booms from the center of the cage.

I glance over to see him spread his arms and turn slowly to address the entire room. The crowd goes wild at the sight of him and I see in him the same thing I see in Kevin and Ryan – charisma. They each have that elusive, natural pull to them that draws people in. Vin’s is different, though. He’s a different breed. He isn’t warm and friendly. He’s dangerous. He’s powerful and ruthless. He
is
the wild, and while I wouldn’t trust him with my left sock, most people love him.

With the fights about the start and still no sign of Kevin, I’m starting to get anxious. Kevin isn’t around. He normally watches the first two bouts before he anchors the night. I ask the head of the Stables if he’s seen Kevin, but he absently shakes his head no. I ask some of the girls if they’ve seen but they only smile awkwardly and mutter ‘No.’ before turning away. I search the lobby and come up empty. I’m turning to leave the big, empty room, going back to the Arena to look again, when I hear a muffled voice in the shadows of the catwalks above me.

“Did you not hear me, Freedom?” Kevin demands. “‘Cause I’ll say it again.”

“I heard you,” she replies impatiently, her southern drawl giving her words an added snap.

“Then why are you acting like this?”

“Because it doesn’t matter.”

He pauses. When he speaks his voice is hard. Angry. “You feel it too. You told me you did.”

“I do.”

“Then how can you say it doesn’t matter?”

“Because it doesn’t matter to Marlow.”

“I don’t give a shit what Marlow thinks of it!”

“Keep your voice down,” she shushes frantically.

“It has nothing to do with him.”

“Don’t do that. You know it’s not true. I’m in the red. He owns me.”

“Then I’ll get you out. I’ll keep fighting. I’ll pay your debts.”

She releases a choked laugh. “And then what? I’ll live at the Hyperion with you?”

“Yes.”

“Kevin, be real.”

“I am being real. I’m going to get you out. I don’t have to have the rest figured out, not yet, but I will. Just stay with me. Don’t quit on this. On us.” His voice lowers to a deep tone, intimate to the point that I feel uncomfortable hearing it. “Promise me. Say you’ll see this through with me.”

She breathes a shaky breath. It’s heavy and afraid. “I can’t,” she whispers.

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t. I’m a whore. This is what I have to do to live, and you can’t handle that.”

“You’re not a whore.”

“Oh, okay,” she laughs angrily.

“I’m serious.”

“Well, I’m seriously going to work now. To seriously have sex with men for money. So tell me seriously, Kevin, how am I not a whore?”

Heavy footsteps echo over the room. Freedom emerges from the shadows and hurries over the catwalk, toward the Arena room. I stand perfectly still as she passes, but a movement near the front door catches my eye. Dante is there, his hand running back and forth slowly over his mouth. His eyes meet mine and he grimaces slightly before turning away to pretend we weren’t just part of something far too private for our ears.

I wait for Kevin but he doesn’t come out right away. It’s a good five minutes before he steps slowly from the shadows, his shoulders low and his hair a ruffled mess. He’s been tugging at it the way he does when he’s upset. When he’s distraught.

“Kevin,” I call up to him.

He stops, takes a breath, and smiles forcefully down at me. “Hey, what’s up, man?”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m golden. How are you?”

“The Colonies are kidnapping people.”

He frowns, this expression genuine. “They’re kidnapping people?”

“From the streets. I saw them take two boys near the hunting grounds tonight. They’ve probably taken more by now.”

“Are you shitting me?” Dante demands from the door.

Kevin holds up his hand to both of us. “Stay right there. I’m coming down.”

Dante joins us in the center of the lobby when Kevin makes it down. They both listen intently as I explain what I saw tonight. When I finish they’re both frowning, their expressions dark.

“Marlow’s gonna hate this,” Dante mutters.

“It’s not good news for anyone,” Kevin agrees. “Why would they be doing this? Do you think they had a beef with the guys they took?”

I shake my head. “It looked random. They were canvasing the outlying areas far from any of the houses. They were picking people off, people separated from their gang or living alone.”

“There aren’t that many people living alone anymore.”

“There will be even less tomorrow.”

“I’ll tell Marlow,” Dante assures us. “It’s good it’s fight night. We have at least one member from every gang in the audience. We can warn them.”

Kevin looks at him doubtfully. I second that emotion. “You think Marlow will?”

“Will what? Warn everyone?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course he will.”

“Really?”

Dante crosses his arms over his chest. “What are you saying?”

“Marlow’s not trustworthy,” I answer honestly.

Kevin sighs, closing his eyes briefly. “That’s not exactly what I was going to say.”

“It is true, though. He might choose to keep it to himself to leave another gang vulnerable.”

“It’s not a truth you have to share with a Hornet.”

“It’s not like he doesn’t know.”

“I’ll tell Vin,” Dante interjects. “He can make the call to either tell Marlow or tell the crowd.”

“Would he do it if he thought Marlow wouldn’t want him to?” Kevin asks.

Dante grins. “Vin’s theory on life is that it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission.”

“I wouldn’t want to have to ask Marlow for forgiveness.”

“Most people never get the chance.”

The three of us head into the Arena. Kevin and Dante go to the cage to talk to Vin while I make my way up into the stands to sit beside Ryan.

“Where have you been?” he asks suspiciously.

“I lost track of time.”

“You don’t lose track of time.”

“I could.”

“But you don’t.”

I grin sideways at him. “No, I don’t.”

“So?”

“So what?”

He glares at me. “Where have you been?”

“Shhh,” I shush my long finger pressed against my lips and my eyes in the Arena. “The next fight is about to start.”

He wins. The guy before him won too. They’re both seasoned fighters like Kevin, meaning tonight is a mellow night. No real excitement or thrill. No one thinks for a second as Kevin steps into that ring for the last fight of the night that he’ll do anything but win.

No one but me.

He’s not right. This entire night isn’t right, and I can see it clearly on Kevin’s face that he feels it. It’s in the set of his shoulders, the line of his mouth. He walks the perimeter of the cage as he always does with his hand raised to the crowd, but his head is down. His face is serious. They welcome him loudly, they love him, but tonight he doesn’t love them back. He doesn’t have any love to give because he already gave it. He gave it and he didn’t get it back, and now he’s left with nothing.

Vin announces the start of the final fight, makes no mention of the Colony roundups, and locks the cage. He stands on the outside with his hands on his hips. His eyes are trained on Kevin and I can tell he sees it too – that there’s something wrong. His brow is creased in a sharp V that makes his angular face even more cut. Far more severe.

The signal is given and the Risen enter from the hallway at the far end of the room. Two of them, a man and a woman, stumble in. They’re confused at first. It always happens. With so many living bodies in the crowd they don’t always go for the person in the cage. Some people standing on the perimeter are closer so they wander to them, reaching for the fence and finding only resistance. The crowd shouts and jeers at them. They mock the dead that don’t understand.

Kevin surprises me when he rushes in, taking advantage of the oblivious Risen. It’s what I would do because it’s the quickest way to end the fight, but it’s not Kevin’s modus operandi. He doesn’t dive right in. Traditionally he draws the Risen to him, scattering them in the cage and putting them on the hunt for him. He gives the people a show that lasts longer than it has to. He gives them what they want for as long as they want it.

Tonight he grabs the forehead of the male Risen, jerks back as hard as he can, and snaps the brittle bones of its neck as though it was nothing. It snarls and bites on the floor, unaware that its body is broken, and Kevin is quick to stomp down on its face. He has to go at it over and over again to get the skull to finally cave, but it’s taken too long. The second Risen is aware of him. It’s reaching for his back.

Kevin has no idea.