“Let’s go,” I say. “The tracks go on, which means Scylla hasn’t caught them here.”
We get back into the truck and I drive us away from the shore, leaving behind Leonard and Janice’s gutted vehicle. If Scylla rushes out of the water again, we’ll see her coming. I can’t help but to notice Stellan’s hand shaking as he tunes the radio.
“He’s alive,” I say, eyes on the dusty road.
An empty reassurance, but one we both need. I’ve grown fond of Perri—worryingly so.
Stellan doesn’t say a word, his knuckles white as he tightens his hand on the dashboard.
Half an hour later, the tracks lead us to a small pier over the water. Scylla is fast in short bursts, but she can’t follow us through the entire bay in such a brief span of time; we’re safe for now.
The sun is disappearing behind the horizon, painting the sky a bright orange, but the buzz of flies surrounding the horse meat spoils the serene view.
Stellan runs to the end of the pier and kneels on the rotting boards. He’s holding a rope. “They tied him up. The fuckers…”
“It’s cut cleanly. He freed himself, or someone freed him.”
He nods.
We walk back to the shore. The carriages’ tracks are obvious, but that’s not what I’m looking for. They left Perri here, alongside an offering of horse meat, but someone else picked him up not long after.
I expected tire tracks, and so I frown when I find a giant footprint instead, in the mud surrounded by reeds. A three-finger mark, as wide as my truck.
“The Devil of the Wastes,” I say. I would recognize the footprints anywhere. I’ve never met my mutant brother, but he’s a legend I’ve been keeping a close eye on.
Stellan’s intake of breath is near feral. “He took Perri.”
I nod, my eyes following the giant tracks. TheBeetle’s strides are so long, they’re easy to miss if you’re not looking for them.
“Relax,” I say, holding Stellan back before he can run to the truck. “It’s a good thing. The Devil is known to save traveling merchants. Perri’s safe with him.”
He sighs, pacing back and forth on the dusty road. “But what if he isn’t? What if they do something to him?”
“They?”
“The Devil is called Griffin, and he lives with his partner, Helios.”
“You know them.” For some reason, the idea of Stellan and Perri being close to another mutant bothers me.
Stellan shakes his head. “Not personally. But I know someone who does. He could get in touch with them for us, but you’re not going to like it.”
I level my gaze at him, brow raised.
We set camp in the barren hills, far away from the bay. TheBeetle’s tracks are difficult to follow in the dark—to Stellan’s annoyance—and we’d only waste gas driving in circleswondering if the recesses in the ground are giant footprints or ditches.
“They’ll put distance between us,” he says again as I pull a bag of food from the fridge at the back of my truck.
“We can’t compete with a six-legged machine controlled by an AI. We need to eat and sleep. In the wastelands, you have to stay sharp. You’ll be no good to Perri if you’re dead.”
“Why are they going north? Why not bring Perri back home?”
“That’s the question you’ll have to ask your friends.”
The wordfriendstaste bitter on my tongue. I haven’t forgiven Jude for his betrayal. He made me look like a fool in front of my subjects—twice—and almost broke my heart—almost. And now he’s in love with one of my mutant siblings. Is it me, or are the wastelands getting smaller every day?
Stellan pulls out a sleeping bag and I stop him with a hand. “You’re sleeping in the truck. It’s only the two of us now. We’re not taking any chances.”
He blinks. “In the truck?”
