“Stay there.” Vincent barreled past her, his billowing red satin robe making him resemble a sumo wrestler with a skin problem. She prayed he wore underwear beneath that.
Cyn struggled onward, limping, and the pain did seem to be lessening. A few minutes later, Vincent returned.
“She says tonight, unless you can’t walk at all, or keep up?” Lips pursed, he eyed her. “Well? I’d offer to check you out, but these digits don’t feel crap nowadays.” He waggled the brown stumps.
“It’s improving.” Though she couldn’t help gingerly testing it. Cyn grimaced as she put weight on her foot. “I swear it is. Thanks for the help.”
“You’re welcome.” He stayed with her and looked attentive, making her wonder if he planned to catch her if she fell over.
No shoes, a red kimono, lumpy skin, and he was a lovely man or rather beaster. What counted was what was inside. Why on earth did the Adult tribe hate him and the other two?
Rutger had gone off scouting and scavenging with Vargr. The two of them were still buddies. She wasn’t sure if that miffed her or made her want to be with them.
With them, of course. She should stop denying it. She was pining for them, but surely it was all due to those bondmating chemicals?
So,” she said, distracting herself from her leg and other miseries. “How did you get into the Nietz experiment? If you don’t mind saying? I’m curious but also have no idea how I got into it. Or intoMaelstrom, which is not quite the same.”
“Maelstrom?” He stopped and looked at her. “I had heard you were different, of course, but not that name. Do you have a tattoo, here?” He put his hand to the back of his neck. “Neo and Lennox have one like me. It says Maelstrom.”
Speechless, she could only look at Vincent for a while. The implications from that had struck her instantly.
“You do then? From the way you’re staring, I’d say it is a yes.”
“Yes, I do have one there. Cannot recall when or how I got it.”
“Well. It was done while we were anesthetized, so no doubt that would be you too.” The floor here was covered in pieces of glass, and Vincent had no shoes yet he kept going, oblivious. No blood showed in his tracks.
“Not really consensual tattooing then.”
“No.”
“Hmmm. My limp’s almost gone.”
Luckily, because they’d reached a spiral set of stairs and already the point wing-soldier was descending. Going down, again. So far, they’d lost about twelve stories. According to Willow, ground level was the goal, before they reached the Rad Zone. She was worried about radiation, but they planned to go in cautiously and stick to the outer edge.
Like everywhere in this apocalyptic world, the floor was strewn with lost items from the time when humans ruled. She often wondered what had happened to the owners of such items. Purses, cellphones, playing cards, orphaned shoes, dust, and a skeletal foot with skin shreds sticking to it.
That last owner, she imagined them toiling upward, sucked by the Lure, despite their missing foot. Stains on the concrete stairs might have been their blood. What a cheerful day she was having.
She looked up. “What did you say, Vincent?”
“You okay here? Need help?” Vincent hesitated as he offered his hand, and she saw an expectation of rejection in his eyes. Asif most wouldn’t touch him. How would it be to change as he had?
She feared this was her future. He too wasMaelstromand that part of the great experiment seemed to have pushed people to the limits, or past them.
“Thank you.” She could walk okay now, but she took his hand. His skin was hard and felt as chalky as it looked, covered in fine grit that shed onto her hand. The beaster was a head taller than her but far wider. The steps made crunching sounds under his bare feet, and he left a track of brown smears of chalk.
With the handholding it felt as if they were a bridal couple in some quirky quasi-horror descending to their doom. She smiled and decided she really liked Vincent.
They were five stories down before they again headed horizontal, along another shopping district with avenues wide enough for buses. Vincent had aided her most of the way without any complaint.
“What has Maelstrom gifted you with?” She’d finally grown the courage to ask.
“Gifted?” His whole face twisted. “With ugliness, according to some.” He shook his head when she protested. “I did sayyesto it, signed a contract, believe it or not even though we were staring at extinction. We thought it would save the world. I have no regrets really. I am alive, and that’s by itself a wonderful situation. Okay, what else? Not much scratches our skin. We are very strong, as you could see from our car barrier. The Lure does not affect us at all.”
She halted. “What? And have you tried seeing it? Can you manipulate it? Because I can. The threads are visible to me. They are a sort of see-through pink. Or I used to be able to play with it, change who it affected.”
“No, we can’t. I cannot even see it. We tried after we heard your story. As far as I can tell that’s a total no.”
