Frequency (The Frenzy Series Book 3) (3 page)

“You aren’t little anymore,” I said, trying to smile.

“Definitely not.” He laughed, but it was true. He looked more man than boy now. I guessed that was how I looked to Mercedes, too, at one point. My heart hurt just thinking about her. She was attacked and that wasn’t her fault, but attacking other people? Who else could be to blame but her? She was dangerous.

“What are you thinking about?” Ford asked.

I debated on whether to be honest, but in the end I decided I couldn’t lie to him. “Mercedes.”

His face fell. “What about her?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“She’s the most dangerous of them all, I think.”

Ford sat in a metal chair and placed his elbows on his knees. “How is that even possible? You and I both know she wouldn’t have hurt a fly when she was alive. She’d catch them and throw them out the back door so Mother wouldn’t swat and kill them.”

“It has to be the Infection. Maybe it messed with her brain or her personality. Whatever the reason is, she’s a danger to everyone in Blackwater. If I see her again, Ford…I have to get rid of her.” My voice cracked and the tears began to flow. I knew in my heart that it would kill me, but in the end I would have to kill my sister. I couldn’t let her hurt anyone else, because I also knew she would never stop. Killing was as much a part of her as it should be a part of me as a night-walker.

“Nothing makes sense. Why can’t I feed on anything now? Why have I never been able to hold down blood, and why does everything seem so extreme? Hunger, energy, moods, strength, sadness. It’s all just a mess, Ford. I’m such a mess.” A blubbering mess.

Ford stood up and moved to the cell bars, squatting down in front of them. “Sit with me?”

I eased off the cot, thankful to be in a pair of soft pants and sweater, but unsure of how I had changed my clothes or who’d helped me. I didn’t want to think about it; I just hoped it was Tage and not Roman. My limbs shook as I sank to the floor, sitting next to him through the bars. Although a row of metal separated us, his hand found mine. “You’ll always be my sister, Porsh.”

“Mercedes should be, too. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“We just got caught up in the game.”

“The Elders’ game?” I asked.

He shrugged, raking his hands through his too-long hair. “Maybe. I don’t know. I was talking about the game between the night-walkers and the Infected, but I think the Elders play a much bigger part in all of it somehow.”

“It’s been going on since the two breeds of monsters were created,” I agreed. Ford leaned his head against the bars between us. “And it will go on for an eternity. The Infected will keep spreading the disease, and the night-walkers will keep feeding on humans. Some of them will turn or be turned. It’s a cycle that’s doomed to repeat itself, and everyone involved is damned.” That was the absolute truth.

“Father was right,” Ford said softly. “Everyone who isn’t one or the other is damned, too, simply because we’re caught in the crossfire.”

Silence stretched thick between us. My baby brother’s warm hand made my cold, clammy one feel normal for a few moments. “Where did Tage and Roman go?”

Ford stiffened and tried to pull his hand from my grasp, but I tightened my hold on him. He wasn’t going anywhere. Not until he told me.

“Where are they?” I asked again and sat up straight.

He swallowed thickly, but told me, “They went to the city.”

“To find Saul?” I jumped up, hope and blood pumping through my veins.

“To find out how to make you better,” he replied. “They went to find out what was on those darts they shot at you.”

“The darts are what made me sick?”

Ford stood up and looked in my eyes. “Roman thinks so, but do you know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think that I don’t trust Roman as far as I can throw him.” I didn’t either. Not at all. He was too intense and manipulative. He used his powers of persuasion to get his way, just like a petulant child.

“Me either. When did they leave?” I tried to listen for any noises in or around the house but couldn’t hear anything except for Ford’s pulse, the growling of his stomach, and his even breathing.

“About an hour ago.”

“You should search the house. See if there’s anything you can dig up on Roman.” Something wasn’t right. Roman admitted that he wanted me, and that he let Mercedes get Infected and fall in the forest just to bring me closer to him. But what was he hiding? How did he become leader of the night-walkers in the first place? There had to be some kind of proof that would give us real answers. We needed to find a hint of truth in a pile of lies.

“What am I looking for?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, but I
do
know he was responsible for Mercedes being turned. I might not be able to kill him now, but it will eventually happen. He will pay for what he did to our family, and it will hurt him worse if I’m able to figure out his game before he can see it being played out. Roman loves to control the board and all the pieces on it.”

“What if he isn’t playing at anything?” Ford asked.

“But what if he is?” I countered.

Ford rummaged through Roman’s room, searching for answers to questions we didn’t know. I could hear the wooden drawers sliding against their metal frames. “Hear anything?” he called out. I was listening intently, pushing my body to work and function like a night-walker should. My fingers curled into balls as I strained to hear any noises near or far. Colonists were milling around outside the house. The sound of someone chopping firewood echoed in the air; the thwack of the axe and splintering of the wooden wedge ringing in my ear. Birds chirped. Animals at the barn rustled around, chewing and snuffling. Chatter from farther away...but nothing of Roman or Tage. No scent or sound.

“Not yet.” If they went into the city, it might take a while for them to find who or what they were looking for. Guilt filled every cell in my body when I realized I was putting Ford in danger. If Roman found him snooping around, if he smelled his scent later...

Ford went silent, his heart skipping in his chest wildly. “Porschia, I found something.”

“What is it?”

His boots clapped down the stairs and he strode across the room, showing me a rectangular cardboard box that read “Cigars,” across the top in bright red lettering. Holding it closed, he slid it through the bars to me. I flipped the lid open and gasped.

Inside was a small portrait, only as big as my palm. “Is that a picture of him and the Infected guy that was with Mercedes?” I asked incredulously. “Or am I hallucinating again?”

Ford shook his head. “That’s the same guy. I mean, his hair is long now and he’s rotting, but that’s him. But
how
is that him? Look at their outfits!”

Roman and the dark-haired man were clad in matching uniforms that were covered with sand-colored splotches in varying shades and identical black caps on their heads. Their arms were slung companionably across one another’s shoulders, and they wore large smiles on their faces. They were
smiling
. They were happy. And if my eyes didn’t deceive me, they were brothers. A patch on each man’s chest read: Nelson. Their straight rows of pearly-white teeth had no points whatsoever. There were no sores on their skin. They were human.

I always thought Roman the night-walker was much older than the date printed on the back of the picture: 04-14-2004.

Ford was confident about his ability to watch his sister. Me? Not so much. I wanted to tear into the city, remove a few Infected heads, get the information we needed, and get back to Porschia. She was lucid when we left her. While she was mentally weak, she was physically strong. Even not having fed in days, she was still stronger than any human would ever be, even at the peak of their fitness and health.

Her brother? He was young, and young guys did stupid things. If she begged enough he might cave and let her out, and Roman was crazy enough to leave one of the two keys of her cell with him.

When I asked him why he did it, he answered, “It just made sense.” The hell it did.

As we made tracks toward the flood wall, a male voice called out behind us. “Roman?” The sunlight was already directly overhead, and we didn’t have time for a distraction. It might take hours to find an Infected who could communicate at all. It had to be someone fresh and still sound of mind, like Saul. But he might not know what was on the darts.

Roman had been jittery, fidgeting the whole walk, like he was amped up and trying to calm down, or calm and trying to get amped up. I wasn’t sure which. We turned to face none other than Elder Yankee.

“May I have a word with you?”

“We’re in a hurry,” Roman hedged, glancing at me for backup.

“It shouldn’t take long. I have a few questions about Porschia Grant and the attack from the Infected. Everyone in Blackwater is concerned that the Infected may now be stronger than they have been in the past. We are nothing more than sitting ducks if that’s true.” How did he know already? Damn it. These old men were like flies on shit.

Roman sighed and looked at me. “Go. Find someone who can help us. I’ll catch up as soon as I can.”

I nodded, watching his unblinking eyes as they stared back at me. Then I ran. Roman could deal with the Elders. I had no use for them anyway. They actually thought they ruled the Colony. What a joke. Roman ruled it. There was no question about that now that I’d been around him long enough. I scaled the wall and leaped down to the other side with a thud, crouching low. The air was cold and still, but the sun warmed the earth. I couldn’t smell the rotters at all. Cold air hit my face.

Each house, building, and store I passed was empty. The city’s taller buildings were clustered together in the center, and I knew that was where I’d find them. I would just have to take it one building at a time.
No time like the present
. Reaching the first building, I stepped onto a pile of crushed glass and snow, through the frame that once housed double panes of shiny glass. The structure had a stale, musty odor and the lobby’s furniture was shredded; upholstery and foam on every surface. Desks were overturned, with deep scratches gouged into the wood. Rat droppings littered the floor, along with some substances I couldn’t identify and didn’t want to
try
to identify.

Glass crunched under the soles of my boots as I walked around the inside of the building. I came to the empty stairwell and paused at each floor to smell the air. Nothing putrid stirred. Building after building, floor after floor, I searched. Where the hell was Roman? He should have been able to lose Yankee and join me by now.