Page 94 of Born Savage

I moved through the house, checking every room. In doing so, I was once against reminded of a life that had been exactly like this in now what seemed like a lifetime ago. Memories held no place. But damn it, they wouldn’t stop. Conversations with my father, warnings he’d given about the future. He’d known someone was working against him. He just hadn’t known who.

The stairs were exactly like the ones in my old house, complete with the stain on the bannisters. My grip was firm as I headed up the stairs, listening for any sounds. There were none. That was troubling.

Star was without a doubt the most infuriating woman I’d ever met.

Opinionated as hell and determined to get herself in whatever dangerous situation possible. There was no filter on her mouth or on the use of her sword either. Once again, she’d almost gotten herself killed and why? Because she wanted to be a badass. That’s the only explanation I’d managed to come up with.

Every time I’d been around the woman, she’d stood before me like a wildly defiant warrior who refused to back down. Not to Dwellers. Not to the Borgata. Not to the men tasked to keep her community safe. And definitely not to a bunch of Savages who’d repulsed her from minute one.

Even now with knowing the difference between Gen One and Gen Two, she was neither more appreciative nor approving. Although I’d captured a moment of fear twice, both times seconds before I’d saved her life.

What I’d wrangled with since intervening both times was how nearly frantic I’d been in trying to save her. It wasn’t just a mission any longer, orders derived from some damn prophecy I couldn’t care less about. The rush of adrenaline kicking off the brutality within me had been based on my possessiveness of her.

Call me a damn Savage. That was fine by me.

I moved through the house, becoming fearful she’d decided to go off on her own. If she had when I’d found her, she would be anchored to me permanently. That much had been decided.

The location had been a great discovery, the heat source still flickering with life with oil. In the travels I’d undertaken over the years, I’d never seen anything like it, but I’d come to expect the unexpected.

Or maybe the reality was that the acts of violence perpetrated by panicked leaders of other countries and the United States’ response had been highly calculated. More so than my father had let on. But at least, plans had been made well ahead of time. What had broken down in the process? How had the nightmare been able to escalate?

Highly specialized generators had remained in decent condition, which in turn allowed for running water and in a limited timeframe, heated water for showers and cooking.

The house we’d chosen was a goldmine, a pantry stocked with edible food and even liquor, clothes, and toiletry items. It has been apparent whoever had lived in the house had left in a hurry, but it was as if they’d planned for the inevitable.

Or left it for us to find. Damn it. I was starting to believe in the prophecy myself.

Without making a sound, I moved from one bedroom to another, checking rooms that appeared as if the people were going to return at any time. There was a heavy layer of dust on the furniture, the blackout blinds closed and when the lights were somehow turned on, everything felt surreal.

A door at the end of the hall was cracked, a bluish light shimmering into the hallway. I stopped outside the door, listening until it felt more like eavesdropping.

As soon as I pushed it open with a single finger, I could tell Star knew I was behind her. She immediately tensed, even folding her arms across her chest. I could sense her sadness and knew exactly why.

We were standing in a child’s room, a bookshelf half full of books. Just like the ones I’d had as a child. There were still several stuffed animals and toys in the room, the light coming from a mobile over the bed. I hadn’t known they’d existed any longer. The bed itself was decked out as if for a princess.

A little protected world had been shattered.

Her silhouette allowed me a view of her lithe body, the aura surrounding her very much as the warrior she presented herself to be.

Star was shaking, appearing so tiny in comparison to the way she’d been earlier in the day swathed in black and adorned with several weapons. With her hair still damp from a shower, she stood in sweatpants she’d obviously found in the house, the waist rolled over several times so she didn’t trip on the fabric. She wore a tank top, the thin material outlining the curve of her breasts, her nipples poking through.

Yet she’d returned to her boots, the heavy steel-toed design exactly like something she would choose.

In the bed Wren lay sleeping, Jake curled up next to her. I could tell by their even breathing that they were fast asleep. And in the girl’s other arm was the stuffed bear Peter had given her.

Star took a step back then another until she flanked my side. I was honestly shocked she hadn’t left the room.

“A little girl lived here. She had toys and books. And a life. What happened?” When I didn’t answer right away, she lifted her head.

“I don’t know, but it appears the majority of those living in town left, possibly together.”

With her body stiffening, she looked me in the eye. “Why?”

“My guess is they were made aware of an impending attack.”

“Where did they go?”

“That’s the question.”