enough tough hands to fend off another attack, if it came to that. Fighters Danny trusted to defend the soft center. But no leaders. Not really. Troy Davis the ex-fireman came close, but he was more courageous than commanding. In fact he avoided Danny. She’d noticed.
She could only hope the retreat went smoothly and nobody was left behind. The Silent Kid would either come back or go his own way. He’d made it this long alone, although when hard winter set in there was no way he’d survive. He and his dog would freeze while hiding in a culvert or something. But it was up to him now. The wounded would be kept in the shuttle bus until they got better or died, usually a matter of hours. If the survivors didn’t have time to burn them, the bodies of the dead Tribespeople were always wrapped up in the back of a pickup. They would be making a cremation stop tomorrow. For everybody else, it was business as usual.
Except Kelley , the unwelcome voice in her head remarked. Maybe she’s not part of the usual business anymore.
Danny rolled slowly past the devastation at the truck stop, as always wondering what she could have done better, what detail she’d missed. They should have shifted the pile of hunter remains. That was obvious. But it was a world of corpses. They became part of the scenery, easy to ignore as long as they weren’t moving—especially in cold weather, when they didn’t stink so much and the flies were dormant. Danny would never make that mistake again.
The interceptor left the jumping ring of light cast by the fires and Danny turned her attention to the road ahead. Her foot sank the gas pedal halfway down and she felt the acceleration pushing her into the seat back. Then there was something coming into the headlights, a ragged bundle of limbs. She slapped the brakes.
Kelley.
Danny drew her sidearm and stepped out of the interceptor, keeping the door between them.
Kelley stood between the lights, her muumuu smeared with blood like an abstract painting. She had torn the bandages away from her head, revealing a face like an old black-and-white photograph.
“I think we’re done,” Danny said. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
“The blood,” Kelley said, and sucked in a long-forgotten breath.
“Yeah, the blood. If you go back there I think they’ll kill you. I won’t be able to stop them. And I think—” she couldn’t say what she thought.
“Are you going to kill me?”
Kelley had guessed it. Danny thought about her answer. She could chaseKelley off, or kill her, or let her keep on existing at her side. Those were the options. Chase her off and she’d most likely feed on the living. Maybe start with the Silent Kid, if he was left behind, and then work on ambushing travelers on the road. Or join up with that other thinker, the one Danny had glimpsed.
If Danny killed Kelley, that was that. Danny didn’t know what was left after such a thing. It would be the end of her, too, somehow. Maybe she’d kill herself. Maybe she’d go insane. There was only one option, until Danny knew the truth.
“I won’t kill you unless you go for me again,” Danny said. She fed her gun back into the holster.
Kelley made fists of her hands and stared at them with bulging gray eyes, as if they were a jury of bones and this was her confession.
“I tasted the blood . It was an accident. But I tasted it. You don’t know. The blood, it tastes like God. It tastes like everything you ever wanted, Danny. I’m so hungry, my insides are on fire.”
“I can drop you off somewhere far away. Eat rats or coyotes. Just don’t eat people.”
Kelley pressed her fists to her forehead like the heroine in a silent film.
“I can’t face this hunger on my own. I’ll do terrible things. But it makes me want to stay alive. Not alive, whatever I am. I want to exist.”
Kelley hesitated, then reached for the passenger door.
“You can sit in back,” Danny said.
“The hunger made me crazy. You have to
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