Survival Instincts Page 2

  The elephant went slack.

  Dani slipped and tumbled off the animal, spear and all.

  The other hunters backed off. They watched. They waited.

  Lynn swallowed heavily. She still struggled with Skeever, who fought against her grip.

  Silence fell.

  The elephant’s breathing slowed and then, anti-climactically, ceased.

  Lynn exhaled along with it, then inhaled deeply. She was very aware the elephant’s chest didn’t rise with hers.

  When she released Skeever, he jumped away like a bucking bull, released from the barn come spring. For a second, Lynn forgot she was probably in trouble and smiled.

  Then chaos returned.

  “You!” A young man, barely more than a boy, reacted before anyone else could. Mere seconds after the elephant had gone down, he lunged at her with a bloodied knife, his face contorted in anger so deep that it almost froze Lynn in place. Almost. If it had, she would have died then and there. Adrenaline pushed its way through her system, and she rolled out of the way of the first attack, crushing more items in her backpack.

  Metal hit asphalt.

  The boy’s momentum caused him to fall, but he lashed out again even as he sprawled.

  Lynn pulled up her legs to get clear of the knife, then kicked. She hit him in the face hard enough to make him drop the knife—it was a lucky shot, and she knew it. She wouldn’t get another.

  The boy groaned, but his bloodied—probably broken—nose didn’t deter him even a little. He scrambled over her, pulling at her leg and clothes for leverage, then grabbed for her hair. He yanked—hard.

  She cried out and instinctively covered his hand with her own. His weight prevented her from filling her lungs. Panic surged. Her heart galloped to the point of bursting. Air! She remembered her training and blindly clawed at her attacker’s face, going for the eyes in animalistic instinct.

  He turned his head to the side to avoid her nails and punched her in the face. Then he closed his hands around her windpipe and squeezed.

  She pounded at his arms. She tried to fight. She tried to defend herself, but her strength wore down fast. Her heartbeat pounded inside her skull, drowning out any other sound. Her vision became blurry. Her world distilled to gray eyes filled with tears. His mouth moved, but Lynn couldn’t focus long enough to understand what he was saying.

  In the distance she could hear more yelling and barking, but neither fully registered. His weight pushed her down onto something sharp in her pack.

  His grip lessened just enough for her to gasp for breath as he punched her again.

  Pain exploded across her cheek. She wheezed, and the oxygen tasted like copper.

  He lifted his fist again.

  She tilted her head to the side as much as she could to protect it, but the blow never came.

  The pressure lifted, first from her neck, then from her chest. Instinctively, she gasped for air, which tore up her throat on its way down. She breathed blood and nearly choked on it. Coughing, she rolled onto her side and tried to get up. Like a newborn lamb, she struck out with her legs and found them incapable of carrying weight. She sank to the ground again and sucked in sand with her oxygen. Damn, that hurt. But she couldn’t rest. She tried to slither away.

  People were fighting around her. The noise of their brawling just barely topped the pounding of her heart. She scooted forward, away. The other foot, another few inches. Repeat. She reached out to plant her fingers in the dirt and placed her hand upon the sticky handle of a knife by accident. Her shaking hand closed around it almost without conscious thought. She took strength from it: now she could defend herself, at least.

  Skeever barked, and someone was shouting, but it was all far away.

  Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Every breath burned her lungs and throat. She opened her eyes to see, but her left eye had swollen shut and the other was watery with tears. They did her no good.

  Someone grabbed her and pulled her over with a heave, causing her to flounder like a turtle on its back because of the backpack.

  In a blind panic, Lynn tried to fight them off. She swung the knife up, but it was knocked from her hand instantly. When she kicked and twisted around to bite, her attacker locked their arms under Lynn’s armpits and pressed her into their body to control her movements. Her back arched awkwardly, and she couldn’t use her legs anymore or risk tipping them both over and relinquishing even more control. “Le—” Her voice broke as agony seared up her throat. She coughed again, which caused even more pain.

  “Stop struggling!” The command was a breathless one.

  At least she was giving her attacker something of a fight. Lynn squirmed even harder, invigorated by this tiny perceived victory.

  “Dammit!” The grip fell away.

  Lynn scrambled again but didn’t get far. The struggle had sapped the last of her energy, and she fell face forward as she tried to clamber up.

  They let her; the hands didn’t return.

  The next one to touch her was Skeever as he nuzzled the back of her head. He sniffed at her hair and whimpered. The familiarity of it almost had her break down in tears. “Sk—” Her voice came out in a rasp, and it hurt, so she stopped herself. She reached out and limply wrapped her arm around him. Using his sturdy bulk as a leverage point, she sat up shakily.

  A few feet away, the woman named Dani sat on her haunches, inspecting her.

  Lynn jumped.

  Dani raised her hands, showing her palms. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

  Yeah, right. She was hotly aware they were all looking at her and that most brandished weapons.

  They had dragged the boy who had attacked her away. While he struggled against the grip of Cody and another male, he seemed calmer. He clutched his forearm and glared at her, angry but not like someone who had only just been thwarted in a second attempt on her life.

  Lynn frowned. Had it been Dani who’d grabbed her the second time? Now she had a moment to think, she remembered the voice had sounded female. She looked back at Dani. If she had been the one to grab her, she hadn’t hurt Lynn.

  Dani lowered her hands and stayed squatted, watching her.

  They looked like a pack of wolves to her, ready to pounce.

  Slowly, she slid off her pack. This time she wouldn’t be encumbered by it if they attacked her again.

  Skeever circled her.

  The black man with the pistol stood a few steps apart, arms folded across his chest as he glanced around the square that had served as a hunting ground. He didn’t seem interested in current affairs. The pistol gleamed in his holster, definitely on display. There were others, but the machete-wielder whistled sharply, and Lynn’s attention jerked back to her before she could take them in.

  Skeever whined. He glanced at her with his trusting eyes and then to the machete-wielder. Slowly, he pulled away from her and trotted over to the stranger, tail between his legs. He pressed against her submissively.

  As Lynn adjusted her balance, something stung in her back. Great. Another injury. She ignored it; she needed what little reason was left in her adrenaline-sodden brain to figure out Skeever’s odd behavior. It hit her like the boy’s punch: Skeever knew these people.

  The machete-wielder didn’t reach down to pet him; her one hand still held the bloody blade, and the sleeve on the other side of her body was bunched up near the shoulder, made redundant by the lack of a right arm. “Can you talk?” Her voice was cold and hard.

  To spare her throat, Lynn should have shook her head, but she nodded instead. With the strength of the bold and proud, she stood.

  When she wobbled, Dani shot up and took her arm.

  Lynn shook her off and gave her a death glare.

  She backed off with a shrug. “Suit yourself.”

  “Did you kill him?” the machete-wielder cut in.

  “W-Wh
o?” Pain flared again, but she clenched her fist and refused to back off. Gauntlets were obviously being thrown, and she’d just had to fight for her life. She’d be damned if she showed weakness now. Besides, she was finally getting answers to questions she hadn’t even had time to formulate, such as why the boy had attacked her. Surely it had nothing to do with the elephant.

  “The man who owned the dog. Did you kill him?”

  Realization hit like a bucket of ice water. “N-No.” She cleared her throat in the hopes of getting out more than a rasp and winced. Ouch. “I found him dead.”

  The severe woman searched her features through narrowed eyes. Seconds passed. She was, perhaps, in her forties. Her short hair was graying at the temples, but most of it was a dirty blonde that was now splattered red. Her angular jaw was set, and, along with cold gray eyes and a hooked nose, it made her look avian. “What did he look like?”

  Lynn steeled herself for a full sentence. The more she spoke, the worse her throat felt. “Mid-forties, maybe? Brown hair.” That could be anyone. Shit. She racked her brain for something that had stood out, but she hadn’t exactly lingered. Then she remembered something she’d puzzled on at the time. “He had a cord on his belt with a bird skull and a small metal tag with the letter R on it.”

  That was enough. The bird-skull memento obviously registered. Machete-wielder’s eyes watered, and her lips set into a thin line. She did not cry. Instead, she holstered her machete and held out her one hand to her son. He had to be her son, Lynn thought. The resemblance was too striking even though his hair was darker. And he would have cause to attack her if he thought she’d killed his father.

  Which I didn’t.

  The boy broke free angrily now that the men restraining him lessened their hold. He stepped forward and flung his arms around the machete-wielder’s torso in a way only a teenage boy could: too proud for a gentle hug, too young to go without comfort altogether.

  The machete-wielder whispered something to him and wrapped her arm across his shoulders.

  Lynn glanced away out of a vague sense of intruding and found Dani looking at her. Lynn stared right back. The brunette was about her age, Lynn guessed, maybe twenty-seven or twenty-eight. She was covered nearly head to toe in blood, but it didn’t all belong to the elephant. Near her left temple ran a small but angry-looking gash, and a trickle of blood soaked her cured leather top.

  “Take her to the Homestead.”

  Lynn looked up sharply.

  “—and take those weapons off her.”

  Dani nodded at the machete-wielder. “I will.”

  Lynn was fairly certain she would not get a say in the matter. A glance at the faces around her confirmed her suspicion. Still, not all of them were looking at her with murder in their eyes; that was just the boy. The rest of the expressions ran the gamut between disinterest and curiosity. Only two refused to meet her gaze when she looked at them.

  “Skeever, come!” The machete-wielder turned on her heel and strode off.

  Skeever glanced at Lynn but then jogged away.

  Lynn’s heart sank.

  After a few seconds, Dani turned to her and sighed. “His name was Richard, and he was Kate’s partner. Dean, the guy who attacked you, was his son.”

  “I figured.” Her voice sounded oddly flat in her own ears, a combination of a lower tone to spare her voice and her conflicting emotions. She felt sympathy for the group in losing one of their own, but she was also angry. No, not angry—indignant. She hadn’t done a damn thing wrong, and yet this guy, Dean, had gone off on her so ferociously that she could have ended up dead. She brought her hand to her throat and rubbed carefully. It felt swollen and hot.

  Dani ignored her tone and extended her hand. “I’m Dani.”

  Lynn regarded the dirty appendage for a few moments, then took it. “Yeah, I got that.” They shook. How long had it been since she had last touched a human being? In a friendly matter, that was. Well, friendly-ish. “Lynn.” She tried not to sound too pissed off. It wasn’t Dani’s fault Dean had lost it.

  Dani scanned her with a slight squint.

  Lynn didn’t like to be examined. “It’s not going to get prettier.” How bad was the damage to her face anyway? Her left eye was still swollen shut, but her right had cleared up considerably. She resisted the urge to feel at her face even when Dani released her and stuffed both hands into her coat pockets instead.

  “I di—”

  “Dani! Kate didn’t say to babysit her. C’mere and pull your weight, will you?” Cody stood bare-chested and bloody atop the carcass. He glowered at Dani and completely ignored Lynn.

  While they’d talked, the rest of the group had begun to dismantle the elephant. Initial cuts to the skin had been made already.

  “Coming.” Dani’s voice did not show the annoyance Lynn’s would have. Or maybe it did, in its metered neutrality. She glanced at Lynn. “Are you going to run off the moment I turn around?”

  Lynn considered it. “Probably not.” She wanted to, but that Kate woman had taken Skeever away, and she wanted him back.

  Dani inspected her again. “Then why not make yourself useful while you’re with us, hm?”

  “Let’s not pretend it’s a voluntary stay.” The painful rasp made the statement sound reproachful, to say the least, and she didn’t try to bend it into anything else.

  Dani just shrugged. “Do what you want, but we like people who pull their weight much better than people who watch others work. We might be more inclined to believe hard workers too.”

  Lynn searched Dani’s eyes. The implications were clear: they didn’t trust her, nor her story. Lynn probably wouldn’t have trusted her story either, but it still pissed her off. She nodded. “Fine. I’ll help.”

  “Good choice, Wilder.” Dani extended her hand, palm up. “Your weapons?”

  “What exactly did you want me to cut with if I gave you those?” She pointedly arched her brow. No way was she handing her weapons over without a fight while everyone else was armed to the teeth.

  Dani seemed to ponder that. “Right. Afterward, then.”

  Lynn didn’t grace that with a reply. When she shrugged off her jacket and set aside her boots, everyone watched her, some more obvious than others. The redhead stared openly as she exchanged words with a muscular but lanky man. He was carving out one of the animal’s destructive tusks but managed to glance at Lynn every few seconds. Whether it was in distrust or curiosity, Lynn couldn’t tell.

  Cody definitely eyed her in distrust. When she stepped up, confidently brandishing a knife, he watched her every step of the way, as if she were going to throw the knife into his back if he didn’t.

  She ignored him. Getting used to the feeling of stepping barefooted through a mixture of sand and coagulating blood took all of her brain power. It was like stepping on a field of gritty snails. She shivered. Time to get to work.

  The setting sun cast a red glow on the grass Lynn sank down onto. They had worked hard, and her limbs were sore. Her back was killing her. At least the throbbing in her throat had lessened some.

  The ragged remains of the carcass drew flies downwind. Three loaded-up stretchers made from straight poles and braided vines lay in front of Lynn’s stretched-out legs to be taken to the Homestead.

  Lynn had been assigned to watch the stretchers while Cody and a small man everyone called Eduardo hauled the animal’s tusks and sacks of bones up to the second story of a nearby building to be collected another day. Dani knelt at a puddle, busily washing the worst of the gore off her hands, arms, and face. Lynn had tried to do the same yet still felt disgusting. Every time she moved, her blood-crusted clothes tore away from her skin. It was everywhere. She shuddered.

  The redhead woman, Ren, lowered herself down next to her with a groan. She seemed to be in her thirties and, like all of them, was covered in gore from head to toe. “Stick a fork in me, I am do
ne.” She leaned back on her hands, then let herself fall into the grass all the way. Her impressive chest heaved. “I think we did well, though.”

  Ren’s proximity made her nervous, but she didn’t radiate enough of a threat for Lynn to move her aching body. She nodded and gave the area a once-over. They’d been making enough ruckus to keep the scavengers away, but now that the work was winding down, the clearing would soon become the site of a feeding frenzy.

  “Now Cody and Eduardo just need to hurry up and get here, and I’ll be happy. Don’t you have the feeling we’re being watched by all sorts?”

  Lynn glanced at her sidelong. Why are you suddenly talking to me? You’ve all been silently side-eying me for hours. She gave a noncommittal hum. Her knife and tomahawk pressed against the underside of her legs. It was a reminder she wasn’t defenseless—yet. The hard work seemed to have made the group forgetful, and she refused to tempt fate by keeping her weapons in plain sight. “How far away is the Homestead anyway?”

  “Not far. Half of an hour at most.” She glanced at the stretchers. “With all of that anyway.”

  Having grown up in settlements, Lynn was familiar with the division of a day into twenty-four segments called hours. She’d spent most of her life without access to a sundial, however, and she couldn’t envision the length of time Ren indicated in relation to distance.

  Dani plopped down next to Lynn, stretched out her legs, and shook out her hair. Most of it remained stuck to her skull because of the blood and water, but a small braid on the side of her head with a little dark bead on it was heavy enough to overcome the stickiness. It swung wildly and drew Lynn’s attention.

  Lynn scooted backward a little so she wouldn’t be flanked by the two women anymore. Her weapons dug into her flesh as she dragged them along.

  “I’m ready to go.” Dani glanced back at her, then focused on Ren. “Where are the boys?”

  Ren shrugged. “They’ll be here.”

  “If they don’t hurry up, we’ll be lion food soon.” Dani’s gaze darted around. Her hand lay on the spear by her side, then she drew the shaft onto her lap.