knees tight to her chest. Other slaves arrived one by one, taking cover and grasping at her. She could not tell if they wanted to comfort a terrified child or sought solace for themselves from the great Prophet.
“Where did you go?” The placid female voice saturated the area. “Althea? Where are you little one?”
“Praise be to the―”
Bang.
“Stupid old man.” The ephemeral woman spat, annoyed. “Your God is dead.”
The old man’s wail, cut off by gunshot, drew Althea out from her cover. He lay upon the ground, struggling to breathe. Blood gurgled out of his mouth and stained his shirt dark.
“There you are.” The hollow woman swiveled at her as she darted over.
“Stay away.” Althea glared at the creature as she came to a halt, kneeling in the puddle of blood.
Gathering some fleshy bits scattered here and there, she stuffed all she could find back into the wound. He gurgled.
“The path is open now. You must flee before they organize.” The skin-phantom hovered up to her, almost nose to nose.
“
Go away
!” The glow in her eyes flared.
The creature groaned as if caught off guard by whatever Althea had just done. The flesh-body snapped back into the raider with a crack like an immense rubber band had just met skin. He huffed and clutched at his chest, stunned from pain and wearing a look of complete terror. Before he could utter a single word, other raiders mowed him down in a hail of bullets.
She crossed her arms in front of her face to shield herself from the shower of blood and bone matter, glancing up in time to see the scarred man hit the ground.
I just said that to be creepy…
Her fingers dug into the man’s chest, as much energy as she could send went into his elderly frame, rebuilding it and leaving her exhausted. Old people always did drain more, and age coupled with such a severe wound left her hurting. She collapsed over his chest, smiling at the blotch of pink new skin. The chaos around her blurred into a tangle of shooting and screaming until a hand on her shoulder shook her awake. Forcing her head up, she recognized the man who had maggots in his leg. The others had armed themselves from dead raiders and left the courtyard a bloody mess. A few lingering gunshots popped in the distance. The captives had won; the kennels were empty.
“Come, we are fleeing before more of them return!” He tugged in an effort to get the listless child to stand.
Althea looked at the old man; he would live, but she was too tired to move. “Take him. I cannot go with you.”
“I’m not leavin’ a little girl here. Get up!” He pulled her to her feet, supporting her weight.
The agate pendant danced between her fingertips, and for a moment, she wondered if these people could bring her home. The feeling of having a home felt as strange as it did painful. The roar of more raiders dispelled the fantasy.
“Can you release the harem?”
He shook his head. “Love to, but there ain’t no time; more of ‘em are coming. Going
into
the building would be suicide.”
“I made a promise. I cannot go with you.” She glanced at the wave of raiders streaming around the corner of the factory; her heart sank. A part of her could not believe she tried to talk them out of taking her home. “They will hunt me. Take these people and get away. You will not be safe if I am with you; they will not stop until they kill you all. If they have me, they will not chase you.”
He stared, frowning at the thought of leaving her, but knowing she spoke truth. This girl would be both a great boon and a terrible burden, and flying bullets offered little time to argue. Althea swayed to the ground as he dragged the old man into the bed of the truck and banged twice on the roof. She drew an arm across her face as a cloud of exhaust blasted her, and cried as her chance at freedom sped off in a hail of bullets. At least those people might survive. All she would have done by going with them is cause more death.
She rolled
Maggie Brendan
Barbara O'Connor
Jan Washburn
Terri Blackstock
Norah Simone
Barry Kemp
G.P. Taylor
Alan Cumyn
Linda Barnes
Lisa Jackson