The Host (16 page)

There was a flash of movement outside my prison. I saw part of Jared's foot as he rose silently to his feet.

“Ah. Here you are,” a man said. The words were so loud after all the empty silence that I jumped. I recognized the voice. One of the brothers I'd seen in the desert–the one with the machete, Kyle.

Jared didn't speak.

“We're not going to allow this, Jared.” It was a different speaker, a more reasonable voice.

Probably the younger brother, Ian. The brothers' voices were very similar–or they would have been, if Kyle weren't always half shouting, his tone always twisted with anger. “We've all lost somebody–hell, we've all lost everybody. But this is ridiculous.”

“If you won't let Doc have it, then it's got to die,” Kyle added, his voice a growl.

“You can't keep it prisoner here,” Ian continued. “Eventually, it will escape and we'll all be exposed.”

Jared didn't speak, but he took one side step that put him directly in front of the opening to my cell.

My heart pumped hard and fast as I understood what the brothers were saying. Jared had won. I was not to be tortured. I was not to be killed–not immediately, anyway. Jared was keeping me prisoner.

It seemed a beautiful word under the circumstances.

I told you he would protect us.

“Don't make this difficult, Jared,” said a new male voice I didn't recognize. “It has to be done.” Jared said nothing.

“We don't want to hurt you, Jared. We're all brothers here. But we will if you make us.” There was no bluff in Kyle's tone. “Move aside.”

Jared stood rock still.

My heart started thumping faster than before, jerking against my ribs so hard that the hammering disrupted the rhythm of my lungs, made it difficult to breathe. Melanie was incapacitated with fear, unable to think in coherent words.

They were going to hurt him. Those lunatic humans were going to attack one of their own.

“Jared… please,” Ian said.

Jared didn't answer.

A heavy footfall–a lunge–and the sound of something heavy hitting something solid. A gasp, a choking gurgle –

“No!” I cried, and launched myself through the round hole.

The ledge of the rock exit was worn down, but it scraped my palms and shins as I scrambled through it. It hurt, stiff as I was, to wrench myself erect, and my breath caught. My head swam as the blood flowed downward.

I looked for only one thing–where Jared was, so that I could put myself between him and his attackers.

They all stood frozen in place, staring at me. Jared had his back to the wall, his hands balled into fists and held low. In front of him, Kyle was hunched over, clutching his stomach. Ian and a stranger flanked him a few feet back, their mouths open with shock. I took advantage of their surprise. In two long, shaky strides, I moved between Kyle and Jared.

Kyle was the first to react. I was less than a foot from him, and his primary instinct was to shove me away. His hand struck my shoulder and heaved me toward the floor. Before I could fall, something caught my wrist and yanked me back to my feet.

As soon as he realized what he'd done, Jared dropped my wrist like my skin was oozing acid.

“Get back in there,” he roared at me. He shoved my shoulder, too, but it wasn't as hard as Kyle's push. It sent me staggering two feet back toward the hole in the wall.

The hole was a black circle in the narrow hallway. Outside the small prison, the bigger cave looked just the same, only longer and taller, a tube rather than a bubble. A small lamp–powered by what, I couldn't guess–lit the hallway dimly from the ground. It cast strange shadows on the features of the men, turning them into scowling monster faces.

I took a step toward them again, turning my back to Jared.

“I'm what you want,” I said directly to Kyle. “Leave him alone.” No one said anything for a long second.

“Tricky bugger,” Ian finally muttered, eyes wide with horror.

“I said get back in there,” Jared hissed behind me.

I turned halfway, not wanting Kyle out of my sight. “It's not your duty to protect me at your own expense.”

Jared grimaced, one hand rising to push me back toward the cell again.

I skipped out of the way; the motion moved me toward the ones who wanted to kill me.

Ian grabbed my arms and pinned them behind me. I struggled instinctively, but he was very strong. He bent my joints too far back and I gasped.

“Get your hands off her!” Jared shouted, charging.

Kyle caught him and spun him around into a wrestling hold, forcing his neck forward. The other man grabbed one of Jared's thrashing arms.

“Don't hurt him!” I screeched. I strained against the hands that imprisoned me.

Jared's free elbow rammed into Kyle's stomach. Kyle gasped and lost his grip. Jared twisted away from his attackers and then lunged back, his fist connecting with Kyle's nose. Dark red blood spattered the wall and the lamp.

“Finish it, Ian!” Kyle yelled. He put his head down and hurtled into Jared, throwing him into the other man.

“No!” Jared and I cried at the same moment.

Ian dropped my arms, and his hands wrapped around my throat, choking off my air. I clawed at his hands with my useless, stubby nails. He gripped me tighter, dragging my feet off the floor.

It hurt–the strangling hands, the sudden panic of my lungs. It was agony. I writhed, more trying to escape the pain than the murdering hands.

Click, click.

I'd only heard the sound once before, but I recognized it. So did everyone else. They all froze, Ian with his hands locked hard on my neck.

“Kyle, Ian, Brandt–back off!” Jeb barked.

No one moved–just my hands, still clawing, and my feet, twitching in the air.

Jared suddenly darted under Kyle's motionless arm and sprang at me. I saw his fist flying toward my face, and closed my eyes.

A loud
thwack
sounded inches behind my head. Ian howled, and I dropped to the floor. I crumpled there at his feet, gasping. Jared retreated after an angry glance in my direction and went to stand at Jeb's elbow.

“You're guests here, boys, and don't forget it,” Jeb growled. “I told you not to go looking for the girl. She's my guest, too, for the moment, and I don't take kindly to any of my guests killing any of the others.”

“Jeb,” Ian moaned above me, his voice muffled by the hand held to his mouth. “Jeb. This is insane.”

“What's your plan?” Kyle demanded. His face was smeared with blood, a violent, macabre sight. But there was no evidence of pain in his voice, only controlled and simmering anger. “We have a right to know. We have to decide whether this place is safe or if it's time to move on.

So… how long will you keep this thing as your pet? What will you do with it when you're finished playing God? All of us deserve to know the answers to these questions.” Kyle's extraordinary words echoed behind the pulse thudding in my head. Keep me as a pet? Jeb had called me his
guest
.… Was that another word for prisoner? Was it possible that
two
humans existed that did not demand either my death or my torture-wrung confession? If so, it was nothing less than a miracle.

“Don't have your answers, Kyle,” Jeb said. “It's not up to me.” I doubted any other response Jeb could have given would have confused them more. All four men, Kyle, Ian, the one I didn't know, and even Jared, stared at him with shock. I still crouched gasping at Ian's feet, wishing there was some way I could climb back into my hole unnoticed.

“Not up to you?” Kyle finally echoed, still disbelieving. “Who, then? If you're thinking of putting it to a vote, that's already been done. Ian, Brandt, and I are the duly designated appointees of the result.”

Jeb shook his head–a tight movement that never took his eyes off the man in front of him. “It's not up for a vote. This is still my house.”

“Who, then?”
Kyle shouted.

Jeb's eyes finally flickered–to another face and then back to Kyle. “It's Jared's decision.” Everyone, me included, shifted their eyes to stare at Jared.

He gaped at Jeb, just as astonished as the rest, and then his teeth ground together with an audible sound. He threw a glare of pure hate in my direction.

“Jared?” Kyle asked, facing Jeb again. “That makes no sense!” He was not in control of himself now, almost spluttering in rage. “He's more biased than anyone else! Why? How can he be rational about this?”

“Jeb, I don't…” Jared muttered.

“She's your responsibility, Jared,” Jeb said in a firm voice. “I'll help you out, of course, if there's any more trouble like this, and with keeping track of her and all that. But when it comes to making decisions, that's all yours.” He raised one hand when Kyle tried to protest again. “Look at it this way, Kyle. If somebody found your Jodi on a raid and brought her back here, would you want me or Doc or a vote deciding what we did with her?”

“Jodi is dead,” Kyle hissed, blood spraying off his lips. He glared at me with much the same expression Jared had just used.

“Well, if her body wandered in here, it would still be up to you. Would you want it any other way?”

“The majority –”

“My house, my rules,” Jeb interrupted harshly. “No more discussion on this. No more votes. No more execution attempts. You three spread the word–this is how it works from now on. New rule.”

“
Another
one?” Ian muttered under his breath.

Jeb ignored him. “If, unlikely as it may be, somehow this ever happens again, whoever the body belongs to makes the call.” Jeb poked the barrel of the gun toward Kyle, then jerked it a few inches toward the hall behind him. “Get out of here. I don't want to see you anywhere around this place again. You let everyone know that this corridor is off-limits. No one's got any reason for being here except Jared, and if I catch someone skulking around, I'm asking questions second. You got that? Move. Now.” He jabbed the gun at Kyle again.

I was amazed that the three assassins immediately stalked back up the hallway, not even pausing to give me or Jeb a parting grimace.

I deeply wanted to believe that the gun in Jeb's hands was a bluff.

From the first time I'd seen him, Jeb had shown every outward appearance of kindness. He had not touched me once in violence; he had not even looked at me with recognizable hostility.

Now it seemed that he was one of only two people here who meant me no harm. Jared might have fought to keep me alive, but it was plain that he was intensely conflicted about that decision. I sensed that he could change his mind at any time. From his expression, it was clear that part of him wanted this over with–especially now that Jeb had put the decision on his shoulders. While I made this analysis, Jared glowered at me with disgust in every line of his expression.

However, as much as I wanted to believe that Jeb was bluffing, while I watched the three men disappear into the darkness away from me, it was obvious there was no way he could be. Under the front he presented, Jeb must have been just as deadly and cruel as the rest of them. If he hadn't used that gun in the past–used it to kill, not just to threaten–no one would have obeyed him this way.

Desperate times,
Melanie whispered.
We can't afford to be kind in the world you've created.

We're fugitives, an endangered species. Every choice is life-or-death.

Shh. I don't have time for a debate. I need to focus.

Jared was facing Jeb now, one hand held out in front of him, palm up, fingers curled limply.

Now that the others were gone, their bodies slumped into a looser stance. Jeb was even grinning under his thick beard, as though he'd enjoyed the standoff at gunpoint. Strange human.

“Please don't put this on me, Jeb,” Jared said. “Kyle is right about one thing–I
can't
make a rational decision.”

“No one said you had to decide this second. She's not going anywhere.” Jeb glanced down at me, still grinning. The eye closest to me–the one Jared couldn't see–closed quickly and opened again. A wink. “Not after all the trouble she took to get here. You've got plenty of time to think it through.”

“There's nothing to think through. Melanie
is
dead. But I can't–I can't–Jeb, I can't just…” Jared couldn't seem to finish the sentence.

Tell him.

I'm not ready to die right this second.

“Don't think about it, then,” Jeb told him. “Maybe you'll figure something out later. Give it some time.”

“What are we going to
do
with it? We can't keep watch on it round the clock.” Jeb shook his head. “That's
exactly
what we're going to have to do for a while. Things will calm down. Even Kyle can't preserve a murderous rage for more than a few weeks.”

“A few
weeks?
We can't afford to play guard down here for a few
weeks.
We have other things

–”

“I know, I know.” Jeb sighed. “I'll figure something out.”

“And that's only half the problem.” Jared looked at me again; a vein in his forehead pulsed.

“Where do we keep it? It's not like we have a cell block.”

Jeb smiled down at me. “You're not going to give us any trouble, now, are you?” I stared at him mutely.

“Jeb,” Jared muttered, upset.

“Oh, don't worry about her. First of all, we'll keep an eye on her. Secondly, she'd never be able to find her way out of here–she'd wander around lost until she ran into somebody. Which leads us to number three: she's not that stupid.” He raised one thick white eyebrow at me. “You're not going to go looking for Kyle or the rest of them, are you? I don't think any of them are very fond of you.”

I just stared, wary of his easy, chatty tone.

“I wish you wouldn't talk to it like that,” Jared muttered.

“I was raised in a politer time, kid. I can't help myself.” Jeb put one hand on Jared's arm, patting lightly. “Look, you've had a full night. Let me take the next watch here. Get some sleep.” Jared seemed about to object, but then he looked at me again and his expression hardened.

“Whatever you want, Jeb. And… I don't–I won't accept responsibility for this thing. Kill it if you think that's best.”

I flinched.

Jared scowled at my reaction, then turned his back abruptly and walked the same way the others had gone. Jeb watched him go. While he was distracted, I crept back into my hole.

I heard Jeb settle slowly to the ground beside the opening. He sighed and stretched, popping a few joints. After a few minutes, he started whistling quietly. It was a cheery tune.

I curled myself around my bent knees, pressing my back into the farthest recess of the little cell.

Tremors started at the small of my back and ran up and down my spine. My hands shook, and my teeth chattered softly together, despite the soggy heat.

“Might as well lie down and get some sleep,” Jeb said, whether to me or to himself, I wasn't sure. “Tomorrow's bound to be a tough one.”

The shivers passed after a time–maybe half an hour. When they were gone, I felt exhausted. I decided to take Jeb's advice. Though the floor felt even more uncomfortable than before, I was unconscious in seconds.

The smell of food woke me. This time I
was
groggy and disoriented when I opened my eyes. An instinctive sense of panic had my hands trembling again before I was fully conscious.

The same tray sat on the ground beside me, identical offerings on it. I could both see and hear Jeb. He sat in front of the cave in profile, looking straight ahead down the long round corridor and whistling softly.

Driven by my fierce thirst, I sat up and grabbed the open bottle of water.

“Morning,” Jeb said, nodding in my direction.

I froze, my hand on the bottle, until he turned his head and started whistling again.

Only now, not quite so desperately thirsty as before, did I notice the odd, unpleasant aftertaste to the water. It matched the acrid taste of the air, but it was slightly stronger. The tang lingered in my mouth, inescapable.

I ate quickly, this time saving the soup for last. My stomach reacted more happily today, accepting the food with better grace. It barely gurgled.

My body had other needs, though, now that the loudest ones had been sated. I looked around my dark, cramped hole. There weren't a lot of options visible. But I could barely contain my fear at the thought of speaking up and making a request, even of the bizarre but friendly Jeb.