Frequency (The Frenzy Series Book 3) (5 page)

As the night-walker sped over grass and rock, my stomach churned. The last few times I’d seen Porschia hadn’t gone so well. She shot me, she bit me, she sent Mother to me when she was banished from the Colony.
And Saul
. She’d never forgive me for that. Saul was in torment in the city. His every thought was to get back to her, but he couldn’t and he knew it.

We did crave meat, raw and bloody, but our hunger wasn’t as terrifying as the night-walkers’. It wasn’t all-consuming either. Once we were fed, it was a long time before we had to feed again. An Infected’s digestive system was about as fast as a turtle in molasses. My arms began to ache and I clutched Tage’s shoulders tighter.

“Hold on,” he shouted back at me.

My knuckles began to lose their grip, so I opened my mouth and screamed as well as I could. A screeching noise was the only sound I could make. Tage finally stopped at the base of a staircase. The stairs led to a door and the door was attached to a beautiful brick home; stately and well-cared for. We were in the night-walker section of town.

Tage sat me down, although I could barely stand. Tage had shouldered my burden but it was still too tiring for me. My calves alternated between cramping and quivering, and my breath puffed in front of me as I braced my hands on my knees. “We’re at Roman’s.”

I stood up straight, shaking my head, mouthing the word
Porschia
.

His brows furrowed. “She lives here. Porschia is here.”

Screeching at him, I backed away. No. She couldn’t be with Roman. Not him. She couldn’t fall for him. She liked Saul. Why was she living with Roman? She should hate him!

Tage watched me back away slowly. “Hey, it’s no big deal. We’re all staying here right now.”

My body relaxed. Thank God. Clutching my chest, I looked back toward the door where movement caught my eye. Roman stood in the door frame, between me and my sister. I snarled at him and in a flash, he was in my face growling right back. Tage eased a hand between us, pushing Roman away from me. “Back off, Roman. She feels threatened.”

“Good. Because I’m laying it on really thick,” he replied.

I shoved at his shoulder, not able to budge him an inch.

Roman laughed. “I felt a breeze. Did you feel that, Tage?” He turned and smiled over his shoulder, but Tage didn’t join him in laughing at me.

Instead, he took my elbow and said, “Mercedes, let me take you to your sister.”

I nodded and let him lead me up the stairs, into the foyer and back down another set of steps. The stairs opened into a large basement where the room was separated, half of it made into a makeshift jail cell. Inside the bars that stretched from floor to ceiling, their white paint peeling off in curling tendrils, was my sister. Porschia was shackled to the bars, sitting on a bed and sniffing the air. Her body was smaller than I ever remembered seeing it; a shell of her former self.

A noise involuntarily flew out of my throat, calling her attention to me. Tage stood between us, but Roman was on our heels.

“You’ll be staying here. We’ve set up a second cot for you, just across the cell from your sister. I trust you’ll be comfortable and won’t cause trouble,” Roman said with a sly smirk as Tage motioned to the small bed across from Porschia. She watched me with her green eyes, a brighter shade than I’d ever seen on her. The gray was somehow lit from within, making the green pop. Every step I took, she watched. Every sloppy, weak movement, she tracked with precision.

Tage stepped into the cell and motioned for me to follow. “You’ll have to be shackled, too, Mercedes. It’s just a precaution, given your history of attacking Porschia. If I had it my way, she’d be out of this cell and it would be all yours, but...”

I opened my mouth to argue, but a whoosh of air hit me. Porschia was within arm’s reach before I even knew she’d moved. “Why?!” she screamed, spittle spraying my face.

Tears of blood leaked down her cheeks. “Why did you attack me?”

I pointed toward my side. She shot
me
with an arrow, and
she
was mad at
me
? Whatever!

“Before! Why did you attack me before?”

In the forest the first time? Is that what she means?

Yes,
she answered. Her eyes bored into me, waiting for an answer.

I had to.

“You were going to kill Mother! She’d been feeding you and you were going to infect her, weren’t you?”

I shook my head.
Mother
was never the target.

Who was the target?
Porschia asked.

You were.

“Said who?” she asked aloud. I looked away from my sister, back to Tage and then Roman, whose eyes dared me to cross him. They were the same as his brother’s; empty, manipulative, and dangerous.

I’ll tell you everything. Just let me rest.

No.

Porschia, please. Please, I’m begging you.

Slowly, she backed away to her side of the cage and Tage blew out a relieved breath. I walked the few steps to my cot and offered my wrist. Pierce’s shackle had always been invisible. I preferred to see the metal that bound me.

Pierce wouldn’t let me out of his sight. The first chance I had I would run, and he knew it. He didn’t trust many people, if anyone. I’d heard how he treated Mercedes. He barked orders at her, told her she was worthless, sent her out into the streets so Tage would attack her. Only, he didn’t at first. I watched from the apartment window. He talked to her. They stared at each other and then he pounced, but he didn’t bite. I’d seen Tage mad, and this wasn’t him. This was a front to fool Pierce. Stupid night-walker was smarter than I gave him credit for. Tage scooped Mercedes up somehow and rushed away from the city, toward Blackwater and the wall that protected it. He wouldn’t take her into the Colony, would he?

I could still make it over that wall.

But what then? I wouldn’t risk infecting anyone. My mom and dad would take me in, but they couldn’t protect themselves from this. This ran deep. My bones hurt. My muscles ached. My head pounded from all the constant chatter. Being in the city with the others, I could hear them all at varying volumes. It was deafening and was making me insane.

My voice was hoarse and almost gone. I asked Pierce, “How do I shut their voices out?”

Pierce brushed his long hair out of his face and smirked. He looked just like his brother. Roman had the same self-assured, arrogant look when he thought he knew more than anyone else.
You don’t,
he answered.

Pierce took pleasure in the pain of others. He had minions who reported on everything, from the comings and goings of the colonists, the hunts and who was on them, and the night-walkers’ activity. Not all of his information about Roman and Porschia was correct, but I wasn’t sure how he was getting his intelligence. He ran everything in the city and was responsible for the Infected who roamed the forest, mentally shouting orders and gesticulating wildly.

Where Roman ruled through coercion and compulsion, Pierce ruled through fear. He made examples of anyone who dared to challenge his orders. Particularly deft with a long-bladed knife, he had gutted two of the Infected who were accused of stealing from the nest and left their remains outside on the fire escape. Vultures circled high in the sky, scenting the decay, before swooping down to remove the man’s eyeballs and then what flesh hadn’t rotted away yet. Pierce watched me as I took in the scene; detached, like one of those birds overhead. Only Pierce wasn’t scenting a meal, he was sniffing to identify my fear or any hint of rebellion. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Pierce’s apartment was nice compared to everything else around here. There was a living room with decent furniture, all mis-matched but comfortable. The kitchen was full of jarred food. No one was offering information on where it came from, but it looked suspiciously like Colony food. There were two bedrooms. Pierce stayed in one and he locked me in the other most of the day. I didn’t mind the solitude. At all.

If a quiet place was to be found, it was here. Here, the voices from all over the city were ambient, soft, and constant; muted at a tolerable level. What I couldn’t figure out was how to keep my head from splitting apart when someone in the same room started having a conversation and the background noise became too loud.

Mercedes tried to help me when she first brought me to her place. Her apartment barely looked lived in, and I soon figured out why. Pierce had her on a short leash. She stayed with him most of the time, and now I would, too.

Why did you bite me?
I asked as she tended the wound on my shoulder between bouts of vomiting and cold sweat. My stomach heaved and my arms shook as she considered whether or not to answer my question.

Steeling her shoulders, she pursed her lips together, answering
, He would have done worse if I didn’t. I did it as a kindness, though I’m sure you don’t see it that way right now
, she replied. Could there really be kindness in a death sentence? Mercy in a bite?

She cleaned the wound, bandaged it, and tucked me into a soft bed in Pierce’s spare bedroom. As she eased the door closed behind her, I eavesdropped.

How is he?
Pierce asked, his voice devoid of all emotion.

Sick.
There was a thud against the wall, followed by a whimpering sound, high-pitched as hell.

Are you sweet on him? Like your sister?

No!
Another thud.

Pierce growled.
Maybe it’s time I found a fresh, more willing female to play with.

She didn’t respond.
Holy shit! I thought Mercedes
wanted
to be with him. Porschia thought so, too.

Mercedes helped me through the first days of the infection, which were the worst. Take the sickest you’ve ever been in your life and multiply it by one hundred – that was how sick I was. I couldn’t even stand or walk on my own. She carried some small containers of water from the river and then stepped onto the fire escape, where she’d set up a small area to build a fire. She boiled the water and somehow made a broth from animal bones. I didn’t ask what happened to the meat. I knew.

She fed me, easing a spoon to my mouth and urging me to sip slowly. The warm broth burned a path down my throat and heated my stomach, and it was the first normal thing I’d felt since she bit me. Her eyes battled mine as she helped me sip.

Mercedes smelled better than the other Infected that came in and out of Pierce’s apartment, and she tried to keep her room tidy. I didn’t even know why I was there. Why was I in her space?

You’re angry with me.

I’m trying to figure this all out…trying to deal with the fact that I can’t go home,
I told her.
Why are you helping me?
What was her angle?

She shrugged and held the spoon of broth to my mouth, easing my head up with her hand.
No one helped me.

Pierce didn’t?

She shook her head.
Pierce doesn’t help anyone but himself.

Why’d he want me?
I asked.

To get back at Roman. Roman has a thing for Porschia. Pierce knew he couldn’t hurt Porschia or Roman without them killing him, so he hurt Porschia by taking you and making you a monster. Now that Porschia hurts, Roman hurts. It’s a really round, fucked-up circle – a spat between brothers that has dire consequences for those of us who are pawns.
Mercedes dipped the spoon back into the small white bowl and blew over the surface of the broth, rippling it.
I’m glad Porschia had you. I know you helped her.