The Immortal Rules (25 page)

“Well, ya’ll are extremely lucky, traveling through the forest alone without running into rabids. They’re quite the menace ’round these parts.”

Menace?
I thought.
Like raccoons and rodents are a menace? A rabid boar nearly took off a man’s leg.

“What are y’all doing way out here, anyway?” Patricia continued, but not in a wary, suspicious tone. She just sounded curious. “The pair of you could be my grandchildren. Oh, it doesn’t matter.” She waved her hand in front of her face. “Stop being nosy, Patricia. Let’s get inside afore we attract rabids. I insist you get a hot meal and some sleep. We have a couple of empty rooms. And we can heat a few pots of water for hot baths, as well. You look like you could use one.”

A hot bath was a luxury I’d only dreamed about in the Fringe. People said they existed, machines that heated water so that it came out at whatever temperature you wanted. I’d never seen one, myself. But Zeke shook his head.

“Thank you for your kindness,” he said politely, “but we should go. We have people waiting for us in the forest.”

“There are more of you?” Patricia blinked, looking up toward the trees. “Well, goodness, they can’t stay out there, boy. David, Larry!” she called, beckoning two men down to the gate. “There are more people out in the woods,” she announced sternly as the men scrambled out, each carrying a rifle. “As soon as the sun comes up, find them and bring them back. In fact, wake Adam and Virgil—tell them to help you, too.”

“There’s really no need—” Zeke began, but she shushed him.

“Hush, boy. Don’t be silly. Ya’ll helped one of mine, now I’m going to do the same. It’s not like we see other humans around here. Where did you say the rest of your group was?”

Zeke still looked reluctant, unwilling to give up the location of the others or hesitant to accept help from a total stranger. But I glanced over the trees, to where the sky was beginning to lighten, and my nerves jangled a warning. The stars were fading. Dawn was on its way.

“About three miles southeast of here,” I said, making Zeke frown at me. I ignored him, meeting Patricia’s worried gaze. “There’s about a dozen more out there, though half of them are kids. You might need to convince the preacher, though. He can be stubborn.”

“A minister?” Patricia’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s wonderful. He can come pray over Joe. And you say there are
children
out there? Lord have mercy. Well, what are you two waiting for?” She scowled fiercely at the two men, who immediately muttered a hasty “Sorry, ma’am” and hurried back into the compound.

“Now.” Patricia smiled at us, though her face looked as if she hadn’t done it in a long while. “I’m sure you two are exhausted. I’ll show you where ya’ll can rest, and if you can wait an hour or two, breakfast will be ready.” She blinked, as if something just occurred to her. “Oh, goodness, I guess I should go help Martha with the food this morning, shouldn’t I? We’re going to have a lot of guests. This way, if you would.”

“Why did you do that?” Zeke whispered as we followed the tall, bony woman into the compound. “These people don’t need more mouths to feed—it’s probably hard enough for them to feed themselves.”

“I’m tired, Zeke.” I didn’t look at him as I said it. “It’s nearly dawn. I’m hungry, I’m covered in someone else’s blood, I don’t want to go tromping through the woods again, and for once I’d like to sleep on a bed instead of the cold, hard ground.” Well, that last part was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. “You can relax—I don’t think they’re cannibals or secret vampire worshippers, unless you think the old lady is a devil in disguise.”

He gave me an irritated look, then sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. “Jeb isn’t going to like this,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Why am I not surprised?”

Chapter 15

When I awoke the next evening, I felt…different. Not in a bad way or in a way that nagged at me, like something I had to worry about. But something had definitely changed. Then it hit me. I was actually clean.

I threw back the quilt and sat up, stretching my arms over my head as I remembered the morning before. Soaking in a tub of hot, clean water, the steam rising into the air to fog the windows, was the purest form of bliss I’d felt in a long time. Getting rained on or falling into a muddy, churning river didn’t count. And there had been real soap, something I’d only heard about in the Fringe. The Archers made their own soap from lye, sand and goat milk, and I’d used the strange yellow lump to scrub through the caked layers of grime and blood, until I could finally see the pale color of my skin. Sadly, with dawn fast approaching, my bath had been short-lived, but I had stayed in that tub for as long as I dared, until the rising sun had forced me out of the bathroom into the borrowed nightgown left on a pillow, and under the covers of the bed.

I stood, taking in the small room. It had probably been a child’s room at one point, if the cheery sun quilt and faded cloud wallpaper were any indication. For a moment, I wondered what became of the child whose room I was borrowing, but quickly abandoned that train of thought.

There was a squeak in the hall outside, movement over the wooden slats, and I froze. Was there someone outside the door? I listened and thought I heard footsteps, moving rapidly away from my room and down the stairs.

Mildly alarmed, I gazed around and spotted my clothes, lying clean and neatly folded atop a dresser. Frowning, I thought back to the previous day. Had I locked my door? Last night, I’d left my clothes in a bloody heap on the floor. Someone had been in my room, if only to wash and fold my clothing, and that made me more than a little nervous. What if they had decided to wake me and couldn’t? What if they’d noticed I wasn’t breathing? My katana lay on top of the pile, not next to the bed where I’d left it, and that made me even more nervous.

I slipped into my clothes and buckled the sword to my back, vowing not to be separated from it again. I could not afford to be careless, especially when surrounded by even more strange humans. Pulling the coat over my shoulders, I turned to leave when there was a knock at the door.

“Allie?” came a voice from the other side. “You up yet? It’s Zeke.”

“It’s open,” I called back.
Though after tonight, that is going to change.

The door creaked as it swung inward, revealing a very clean, smiling Zeke on the other side, holding a candle. He wore a white shirt and slightly baggy jeans, and his blond hair feathered out over his eyes and collar, looking very soft and touchable. His pistol, machete, hatchet and various weapons were still in place, but he looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen him.

And, though I tried to block it out, I could hear his heart beating, low and contented, in his chest. I could sense the pulse at his throat, echoing it, and the blood flowing through him, hot and powerful.

Cursing myself, I shoved those thoughts away. Maybe it was the overload from last night, being forced to see the wound, smell the blood soaking everything. To be that close, unable to tear into the man’s throat, as I’d wanted to do all night, made me crave it even more. I was getting to the point where I’d better feed soon, or I’d go crazy.

Or maybe it was Zeke himself.

That was going to be a problem.

“Oh, wow,” Zeke said quietly, his blue eyes dancing with mischief as he held the candle up. “Look at that. There was actually a girl underneath all the blood and dirt. Though you’re a bit paler than I expected.”

I snorted, hiding my sudden alarm. “Seen yourself?”

He laughed good-naturedly. “Come on. I just got up, but I think Jeb and the others are down in the barn. They arrived a few hours after we went to sleep. At least that’s what Martha said—after telling me she was washing my unmentionables and I could have them back tomorrow.” He wrinkled his nose. “I think the old woman was trying to come on to me.”

“Okay, I’m just going to erase that image from my brain now.” I gave him a mock-horrified look as we started down the corridor. “For the record, the words
old woman
and
unmentionables
should never be used in the same sentence.”

He grinned as we made our way down the stairs and through the shadowy halls of the ancient farmhouse. It was a truly monstrous old building, two stories tall, with high windows, wooden floors and a roof that had been patched numerous times. Over the years, it had been expanded and built upon, and the back part of the house didn’t quite match the first half, but it served its purpose I supposed, keeping a roof over the Archer clan’s heads.

“Where is everyone?” I asked as we hit the ground floor without running into any of the clan’s numerous members. Last night, Patricia had proudly told us that they had three generations of Archers living under one roof: brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, grandmothers, grandfathers, the whole family tree. I’d seen at least a half dozen people taking care of Joe when we’d followed Patricia into the house, and I’d suspected even more had been sleeping in their rooms. Where was everyone now? I heard banging noises coming from the kitchen, but other than that the old farmhouse was silent.

Zeke shrugged. “I think most everyone is outside, taking care of the animals, finishing work in the fields, and making sure the wall is safe. Martha told me they keep goats and sheep out in the pasture during the day, but they have to bring them in at night. Otherwise the rabids will get them.”

“Zeke?” A frail, reedy voice came from the kitchen. “Is that you?”

Zeke grimaced and ducked behind a wall, blowing out the candle as a small white-haired old woman came out of the kitchen with a frying pan in one bony claw. She blinked when she saw me, thick glasses and toothless gums making her look like a lizard.

“Oh,” she said, not able to hide her disappointment. “It’s you. The girl.”

“Allison,” I provided.

“Yes, of course.” Martha wasn’t even looking at me anymore, rheumy eyes scanning the candlelit room. “I thought I heard that boy out here. Is Zeke with you?”

“No,” I said firmly, not glancing at the corner where Zeke was vigorously shaking his head. “I haven’t seen him.”

“Oh. Pity.” Martha sighed. “He must be in the barn with the others. Such a handsome lad, that one.” She sniffed and peered at me, narrowing her eyes behind her glasses. “Oh, good. You found your clothes. I was going to tell you I had washed them, but you were sleeping so soundly, I couldn’t even rouse you. You sleep like the dead!”

“Yeah.” I shifted uncomfortably.
I am so definitely locking my door tonight. That, or I’ll nail the damn thing shut.
“I guess I was tired. We—our group—we sleep during the day and travel at night. I’m not used to being up in the afternoon.”

“Sleeping is one thing.” Martha nodded her wrinkled head sagely. “You, my girl, were out like a log.” I started to reply, but she appeared to lose interest now that Zeke wasn’t around. “Well, if you see that boy, tell him I’m making a pie just for him. Boys like pie. Dinner will be ready in an hour. Be sure to tell your people.”

“I will,” I muttered as she vanished back into the kitchen. I glanced at Zeke, hoping he hadn’t picked up on my unease. He just shrugged, and I raised an eyebrow.

“The mighty hunter,” I quipped as we snuck out the back door, escaping into the yard. “He can take down vicious rabids and rampaging boars, but one old lady can make him flee in terror.”

“One
scary
old lady,” he corrected me, looking relieved to be out of the house. “You didn’t hear what she told me when I got up—
you’re so cute I could put you in a pie.
Tell me that’s not the creepiest thing you’ve ever heard.” His voice climbed a few octaves, turning shrill and breathy. “Today for dessert, we have apple pie, blueberry pie and Ezekiel pie.”

We laughed together, our voices bouncing off the farmhouse walls. Outside, the twilight air was cool and hazy, and when I took a breath, I could smell smoke, dirt, livestock and manure. It was a clean smell, much cleaner than the Fringe and the city streets. Chickens milled about the yard, scattering before us, and a shaggy black-and-white dog watched us from a rusty tractor. It growled at me, curling its lips back as I met its gaze, but Zeke didn’t notice.

“Now it’s my turn,” Zeke said, watching his feet as we walked down the muddy path to the barn. I glanced at him, frowning, and he kicked a pebble into the grass, following it with his gaze. “To thank you,” he elaborated. “For helping me with Joe, and for killing that pig…basically for saving our lives. I don’t think… I mean, if you hadn’t been there…”

I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it,” I said, embarrassed. “You would’ve done the same and so would Darren, and I think we both got really lucky that night. No one got hurt, so it’s over.”

“It almost got me,” Zeke muttered, almost to himself. “I felt its teeth catch my leg as it went by. Thank God it didn’t break the skin. If Jeb were to find out…” He trailed off.

“What?” I prodded.

He shook himself. “Nothing. Never mind. I would just…he would lecture my ear off, that’s all.” I watched him intently, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks.” He shrugged. “And you’re welcome to tag along with me and Darren whenever you want.”

“Tag along?”

“You know what I mean.”

We had reached the barn, a faded gray building that smelled of straw and goat poop. A warm yellow glow came from inside, along with the murmurs of people and the bleating of livestock. Slipping through the large double doors, we found Jeb near the front, talking to Patricia, while the rest of the group had sprawled around them, sitting on bales or leaning against fence railings. Matthew sat in the corner, holding a bottle for the baby goat in his lap, while Caleb and Bethany looked on in delight.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Jeb was saying as Zeke and I eased inside. “We appreciate you offering your home to us, but we don’t want to be a bother.”

“Oh, Jebbadiah, stop it,” Patricia said, overruling him. “It’s no bother at all. Y’all are welcome here, for as long as you need. We have enough food, and if you don’t mind sleeping in the barn, there’s more than enough space to go around. I must say, it’s a mite strange that y’all sleep during the day, but I’m not here to judge, no I’m not.” She cast her gaze over the rest of the group, smiling at Matthew, Caleb and the baby goat. “I know it’s too soon to decide,” she continued in an almost wistful voice, “but if ya’ll decide to stay on a more permanent basis, we can always extend the house. We done it before, we can do it again.”

“We cannot stay long,” Jeb said firmly. “And I do ask that our sleep cycles not be interrupted, but perhaps we can find other ways to repay your hospitality.”

“Just you prayin’ over our man Joe, that’s enough, preacher,” Patricia said, her face turning somber and grim. “And maybe, if you really wanted to help, you could spare a couple of your men to help us watch the wall at night, keep the fires going and keep an eye on the critters. Since ya’ll are night folk, anyway.”

“Yes.” Jebbadiah nodded and suddenly caught sight of Zeke and me, standing by the front doors, watching. “Yes, we can do that,” he continued and beckoned to Zeke, clapping him on the shoulder as he came up. “You’ve met my son,” he said with a trace of pride. “Ezekiel will be in charge of the night watches and anything else you need done.”

“It’ll be nice to have more people on the watch,” Patricia mused and gave Jeb a tight smile. “Very well, preacher, we accept your offer. I’ll have David and Larry show your boys the way we do things here at night.”

They nodded at each other, two rigid, no-nonsense leaders finding something they appreciated in each other. For a second, I had the absurd thought that they would make a pretty good, although terrifying, couple, and snickered out loud at the image.

Three pairs of eyes turned to me. “And this is Allison,” Jeb said blankly, with none of the pride he showed for Zeke. “She is the newest member of our little family, though Ezekiel tells me she’s quite dangerous with that sword. Apparently she took down the rampaging wild boar very nearly by herself.” The words were hollow, stiff. He might not be condemning me, but he sure wasn’t praising me, either.

So much for our little heart-to-heart by the river. I guess he still has to keep the cranky-bastard appearance going for the rest of the group.

“We’ve met,” Patricia said with a small approving smile. “Joe said he watched you two from the tree. Said you moved faster than anyone he’s ever seen.”

I shrugged, uneasy, but thankfully Zeke stepped in. “How is he?” he asked, a note of genuine concern in his voice. It still surprised me how worried he could be for a complete stranger.

Patricia’s face fell, growing dark. “Alive,” she murmured, and her voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “He’s in the Lord’s hands now.”

* * *

D
AVID
AND
L
ARRY
, the two older farmhands, showed up later that night and explained what needed to be done. First, and most important, was guarding the wall, the barrier that surrounded the compound and kept the rabids away. Platforms and walkways had been constructed along the inside of the wall, giving the watch a clear view over the open field of anything coming out of the woods. Not only did the platforms need to be manned, but the bonfires that burned just outside the wall needed to be continuously fed. And someone needed to stay in the barn with the animals, for they would panic if they so much as smelled a rabid outside.