He released her. “I’ll take you down to the other humans now, but I won’t go far. I’ll sleep nearby.”
How could he stand against his entire tribe? She needed her own plan. “Why did you bring me here, if you’re afraid they won’t let me live?”
“Because. This is my tribe. This isn’t a time when living alone is safe.”
“It never was, was it?”
People had once preyed on loners even in the middle of thriving cities. Laws deterred the lawful. Laws existed because without them people did bad things to each other.
“Maybe. It’s worse though. Find a bear on your street, or a tiger, and in the past that was a one in a million rarity. Now it’s a certainty you’ll run into something bigger than you, if you live out there for more than a few weeks. We all need each other, Cyn. No matter how self-reliant you pretend to be.”
Oh, but I’m not pretending. Wait and see.
Cyn put her hand to her throat, where her pulse was pounding. She was sure it was the truth.
Somehow.
Vargr foundthe gym and left her. He would be just outside the door, he’d told her. Presumably he feared to prejudice her case by sleeping in here. Or maybe he had a better bed. She sighed. Vargr was nice. He probably did think this was for the best.
Well nice except for when he pinned her down and whispered dirty things, or even better did dirty filthy things to her.Mmm.
The gym had once been used for recreation and sweating, now it was a cage for the few humans the tribe had kept. These nine people were all that was left after the mass exodus to the top floor and the leftovers had been bondmated. Five men, four women. All of them over sixty years, she guessed. They’d have been a mere snack for a Ghoul Lord, but what hope did they have here?
Cyn surveyed them from where she sat, arms about her knees, on one of the mattresses that were scattered over the floor. From her ankle, the chain undulated to a strut on a weight-lifting bench. Vargr had fastened it to her. To her amusement, itwasn’t locked, same as before. Anyone could undo this. Anyone lucid.
None of these others were. Nine people who stared into space and occasionally stood up and strained to walk toward the door which two beasters guarded. She was sure they’d stop her if she tried to get past them. She’d pretend to be clueless about undoing hooks, unless some opportunity arrived.
The night trickled past, and she slept at most an hour before she woke to the guards hustling everyone to rise. Ignoring her questions, apart from a barked “Sunshine time!” they herded her and the nine ordinary humans out the door. There, Vargr joined them. Like herders of slow-moving, ornery cats, the guards had to constantly shout and push to keep people in line.
Vargr took her hand for a moment, and she found herself smiling at him.
The humans were constantly doing the opposite of what was required.
Not cats, she decided, these were more like placid zombies who only snarled and attacked when provoked.
How they did the bathroom arrangements? The zombie apocalypse would never have entailed figuring out the toilet training of zombies. With millions missing, on the journey here she and Vargr had used one of the million un-owned bathrooms when they’d needed to. Though the devices didn’t flush anymore, Vargr had told her they’d run out of clean toilets in about another five hundred years.
Totally a guess, of course, but she’d decided she too would forget to worry about poop. The Ghoul Lords had seemed more worrisome, and still were. Poop and pee came about three thousandth on her list of troubles, after the lack of Hollywood gossip, and whether her teeth were white enough.
After they left through the front entry to the hotel, the guards shepherded everyone into a sharp turn and headed in the opposite direction to where she and Vargr had come from.
“Where are we going?” she asked Vargr.
“Sun-time for the humans. So we’re going to an edge that isn’t too exposed. Without sun humans get diseases.”
“Uh-huh.” She did remember that. “Where did Dog go?”
“He’s here still. I think he’s found someone else to feed him. So long as he stays away from Toother, he’s better here than on his own. Toother is the nanodog Orm tamed and claims to ride.”
“Yeah, I remember that.”
“You’ll know Toother if you see him. Hate to imagine how many soup cans he eats a day. Or clean-up detail.”
“Ew.”
He grinned at her.
The edge they went to on this Mercantor Quarter building was on the same story as the hotel entrance. She hadn’t yet asked which story this was. Did it matter? It was a long way down, and if you fell, you died, unless a wing-soldier grabbed you. The fiftieth story, at least.
