Strays Read online

  “Hello!” Dakota said, too loudly.

  “I heard you,” she said, calmly. “You guys can go ahead. I’ll just keep walking.”

  “What?” Curly looked from her to Dakota, who had jogged up beside them. “Like hell you will. The sun’s setting.”

  “So what?”

  Dakota and Curly exchanged glances. Max sped up. She didn’t like it, but she had done it before. If she stayed quiet, which wouldn’t be a problem for her, she could stay hidden from Strays. She only needed a few more hours. She was close. She could feel it. She would see Eric again soon. Curly grabbed her arm, but Max yanked away from him.

  “It’s getting dark!”

  “Then keep your voice down.”

  “They’re probably watching us,” Dakota said, nonchalantly and looking cautiously around him.

  “I don’t care.”

  “You’re being stupid.”

  She didn’t care about being stupid either. She didn’t need them to follow her. If they were afraid, which they so clearly portrayed, they could just find somewhere for the night and catch up with her in the morning. Either way, she was going to keep moving until she thought she was close enough to her brother to settle down. Her heart could barely stand this.

  “Would you stop?”

  “No!” Max said, huffing. “I can’t. I can’t stop, Curly! Every time I stop I picture something happening to him, someone hurting him. I can’t stop.” She walked on. She walked on, until the sun was down and the night was quiet.

  Curly and Dakota, despite her fears that they would leave her, walked with her. The three of them were quiet as they walked through the dark night, with nothing but the moon to light their way. The moon reflected not an inch of enough light to help them see where they were walking, so they walked on quietly and carefully.

  “She’s going to get us killed,” Dakota whispered to Curly.

  Curly had made a vow to himself and to Reagan to keep her safe and help her get back to her brother. As crazy as the chick was, he had to stick to his word. His mother would be disappointed if he didn’t. Plus, he wouldn’t feel right with himself.

  Dakota stepped back and sniffed at the air. Max watched him for a while and then she turned around and watched the road ahead, fearlessly. She had to abandon all fear to walk through the dark like this. And she knew they were all around them. They were everywhere. She felt the shift in the air just as the sun set. They lurked in the shadows like cockroaches and waited for the chance to attack. Humans. Vampires. They didn’t care. Blood was blood and she knew that. So why had she decided to keep moving? Eric, and Eric alone. Snarls and loud grunting sparked up in the distance, making Max stop in her tracks. Dakota bumped into her.

  “Watch out.” He gently pushed her away, making her bump into Curly.

  Curly caught her and helped her stand upright. “We should really consider finding somewhere to chill, Max. Like seriously,” he cajoled.

  Yes, she certainly agreed with that now. She forgot how frightening being outside at night was. It had never been that way before. Before the Stray epidemic, even when vampires lurked the streets at night, it had always been safe to go outside. She missed going to the movies with her friends, or sitting on the grass in her back yard, her legs up to her chest, admiring the moon. She would never have the chance to do that again.

  “Okay,” Max said, finally.

  “I think we might be a little too late for that.” Dakota sniffed at the air for a few short seconds, taking in the terrible whiff of Stray. Not one. Two. It might have been three. It was hard to see in the dark and their black clothing didn’t make it any better. Dakota growled fiercely, like a dog giving off a warning. The Strays let off snapping growls in retort. Max closed her eyes.

  I can’t fear what I can’t see…

  She wanted one of her dreams to come and swiftly take her away from this moment. A procession of loud popping made her open her eyes wide. Curly had fired his gun.

  “You can’t!” Max shouted. She went to grab it, but Dakota had lifted her off her feet and swung her around.

  “Do us all a favor, kid, and run!” he said, pointing in the other direction.

  Two more Strays had gathered. Four. Four and he wanted her to run? No, she couldn’t abandon them like that. After all they had done to protect her? She couldn’t just leave them to fight those Strays off alone! Plus, Curly had just rung the dinner bell with his gun. More of them would come. Max pushed Dakota’s arm away and freed her gun from its holster. If she was going to die there, she was going to give them one hell of a fight.

  Dakota was tackled suddenly to the ground by a Stray, out for blood, judging by the saliva dripping onto him from the thing’s teeth. Max wanted nothing more than to save him from this creature, but she had her own Strays to handle. Two of them were ganging in on her and she didn’t want to fire her gun. Pleading was pointless. If they listened to reason the world would be normal. These were former vampires with vendettas. They wanted revenge for being unable to be part of normal society. Max closed her eyes and raised her gun up, but it was knocked out of her hand before she could pull the trigger, and she was thrust to the ground.

  Her back hit hard. Of course the pain was the last thing on her mind as the Stray attacked her with its claws. Its teeth snapped. Every time it went to bite her she managed to hold it off. Dakota and Curly—even though she could barely see them—were doing a lot better.

  Soulless. They were soulless. She stared into the empty depths of their eyes and wished she could see what used to be. Humans first. Then vampires. Then Strays. An ending. A beginning. Nothing now. Her hands stayed on its face as she urged it off of her, but it was much stronger. It snatched her hands away and brought its head close to hers, mouth open wide like it was ready to take a chunk out of her. Before it could, Dakota pulled it free, releasing the weight from her belly. She watched him for a second as they both plummeted to the ground, but a sharp cut on her ear made her stumble sideways. Another had clawed her. She didn’t know where this one had come from, probably the result of Curly shooting.

  Curly! She spun around in time to see him on top of another Stray, the point of his gun pressed to its forehead. She searched the ground for her own gun, but the Stray had both its arms around her. She was in the air in a second and on the ground a second after. She always managed to lose her gun in these situations, but luckily she still had her bowie knife. She grabbed it so fast that she nearly cut herself on the blade. She tried to jab it into the side of the Stray’s head, but she had to force it. She felt it puncture every layer until the thing stopped flailing. Then she was up on her feet in a rush to help Dakota, but Dakota didn’t need her help. He had fired his gun so much that Max thought more Strays would come and this hell would never end.

  More will come. More will come.

  A desperate cry filled the night and Max cringed from the agony in it. Her eyes went to Dakota first, but he was standing, out of breath over the Stray he had just killed. They both looked in Curly’s direction next. He had managed to kill the other two Strays he had been grappling with, but another one had attacked him and gotten the best of him. It bit into his arm first. Its sharp teeth cut through his jacket. Then it tore into his neck. Max thought she saw the blood gushing through the darkness.

  “Dante!” Dakota ran for him. “Dante!” His hands were on the Strays back in an instant, but his palms were covered in sweat and blood so when he went to pull him they slipped and he stumbled back, falling on his ass.

  Max wordlessly ran up to them and her knife went into the back of the Stray’s neck. For a while its teeth stayed locked around Curly’s neck. She jabbed it again, in its ear, in its side, in its ear again. Its blood splattered onto her clothes and skin and hands. She stabbed it until she was breathless, until it unlocked from Curly’s neck and Curly dropped to the ground. The Stray lunged at Max, but Dakota shot it twice and it fell.

  “Dante.” Dakota dropped to his knees beside Curly, who lay quietly on the g
round with his hand over his wounded neck. “Shit. Shit.”

  “We have to get him inside.” The smell of his blood combined with the gunshots were enough to bring them more Strays.

  “Yeah, no shit! Don’t just stand there then! Help me.” He lifted him up before Max could help.

  Even though she was shorter, she stood on the other side of him and pulled his arm over her shoulder. He wheezed as they rushed with him, not knowing where they were going or if they would come up on any houses. They walked for two minutes before they hit a street of worn down houses, none of which looked habitable. They didn’t have time to worry about that. Dakota slammed in the door on the first house on the right and they were instantly hit with a breeze of funk. The stench of blood and death made Max gag.

  “The basement,” Dakota said, because he thought he heard something upstairs.

  Curly’s blood poured onto Max’s shoulder and she thought she felt some of it on the side of her face. Was there even a basement in the stupid house? If there was, it wouldn’t matter. She couldn’t see where she was walking. They found the kitchen down the hall. It looked like it had been torn to shreds by an animal. The basement door was shut and locked from the outside. Dakota unlocked it quickly and threw the door open. It didn’t smell like death, but like dirty laundry. Max prayed there was nothing down there. If there was something down there, they were all dead.

  “Hold him up!” Dakota said, calmly. He brought his pack of matches from his pocket and lit one with shaking bloody hands. It burned for three seconds, not giving them much time to scan the basement before it died out. “Come on.” He grabbed Curly and, grunting, pulled him onto his shoulder.

  “We’re going to go down there?” Max whispered. “We don’t even know if it’s safe!”

  “Get your stubborn ass down the steps now. Right now!”

  Max started down. Tears threatened her as she walked slowly down the stairs. He had an excuse to talk to her that way, but she wished he wouldn’t. She was terrified. Petrified of this darkness. She didn’t hear any growls or snarling. She didn’t smell blood or any other smell that was usually a sign of Strays being around. Dakota locked the door from the inside. When they were at the bottom, he found a spot in the corner, close to the window where the moonlight leaked in enough that he could see what he was doing. He lay Curly carefully down. He had begun to make gurgling sounds like he was choking on his own blood.

  “Why do you just stand there?” Dakota said, staring at Max with wet eyes. “When people need your help, you just stand there, dazed. Why?”

  Max walked to him and knelt down.

  “Hold his head.”

  “His hand?”

  “His head!”

  “Well, I couldn’t understand you!”

  “Up. Hold it up. I’m going to look for some candles. There has to be some in here.”

  Max held Curly’s head up, but she couldn’t look at him. She looked in the direction Dakota had left and waited. There could be Strays back there. In the dark. Waiting for him. Then it would just be her and clearly she wasn’t good at that lately. The only thing that could be heard was Curly’s gurgling. The thing had taken a huge chunk out of him. Several seconds later there was the sound of clattering and then shattering glass.

  “Kota?” Max said, quietly. She looked at Curly. She wanted to check on Dakota, but she couldn’t leave his side. “Are you okay?”

  “Got some!” He emerged from the darkness, holding two thick candles, one red and one green. The green one was so old that Max doubted it would light. “In an old Christmas box. Here.” He lit them with his matches. “I only have four left.” He tucked them into his pockets. His hands were still shaking when he set the lit candles aside. They brought enough light around the area that Max could see that they were safe. No Strays. He had also brought back an old glass candy dish.

  “What’s that for?”

  “Give me your knife.”

  She handed it unhesitatingly to him. “Why?”

  He didn’t answer her. He cut hard into his arm and slit it horizontally across. Then he turned his arm over and let the blood drip out into the dish.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “It’s okay, Curly.” He used the knife to keep his wound open, didn’t even grimace at the pain—if there was pain.

  Max wanted to snatch her knife away, but he was already done by the time she thought to. He set it aside and then moved Max’s hand away from Curly’s head.

  “Drink slowly,” he said, tenderly. He pressed the dish to Curly’s lips. “Slowly, Dante.”

  Curly tried to drink slowly, but it was hard for him to drink at all. He drank the whole dish of his brother’s blood, nonetheless, without a flinch. Max couldn’t think about how bizarre it was. She was solely focused on Curly getting better. She watched him as his eyes opened and closed. Every half hour, Dakota would give him more blood. He gave him so much that he had started to look pale.

  “Will he turn Stray now?” Max said, once Curly was fast asleep.

  Dakota ignored her. He kept his back against the wall and his eyes on his big brother.

  “Will he be Stray, Kota?”

  “No!”

  “Well, I thought…” Maybe she had learned it wrong, but she had believed that if humans were bitten by Strays, they would become Stray, too.

  “Vampire blood has a healing effect.”

  She didn’t understand. If vampire blood could heal, why didn’t it heal Strays? Strays fed on humans as well as vampires. “I don’t get it. Then why wouldn’t they become human if they fed on vampires then?”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  “Strays feed on vampires, too.”

  “He’s not Stray! Vampire blood doesn’t heal Strays. He’s not Stray! Once you’re Stray, you’re Stray for good. No amount of vampire blood will change that.”

  “Okay.” She put her hands up defensively. “I was just asking.”

  “Are you genuinely fucking stupid or is this an act?”

  “What?”

  He leaned forward, his eyes barring into her like he was speaking to her through them. “You need to think before you act! You can’t just go off deciding things without thinking about other people.”

  No, she wasn’t going to let him turn this around on her. “I told you guys that I could go alone. So thinking about other people is the whole reason you’re in this mess!”

  “You think Curly would let you go off on your own? So what, you just sleep with him and now he means nothing?”

  “No, it’s not like that.”

  “And you think you could handle those Strays alone? You must be delusional.”

  “I just want to get to my brother.”

  “You sure as hell aren’t going to get there by being stupid.” He sat back against the wall again. “I have a brother, too. For a long time I didn’t think we could have that bond that we used to. We were just starting to get our relationship back to what it used to be, but then you come along batting those pretty little eyelashes and flashing those pearly whites and he’s all over you like a bat on fruit. Fine, you and my brother can be a thing. I don’t care, whatever, but have the decency to pretend to care about him!”

  Max smacked the tears from her eyes. She didn’t need this from him. She didn’t need him pointing the finger or telling her how she felt about other people. She did care about Curly. She liked him. He was a great person for helping her, but sleeping with him had been a mistake. Her feelings for him didn’t stretch that far. She couldn’t tell Dakota that. He was already incensed.

  “This is all your fault! If he turns Stray…” He let his words fade out.

  Max already knew. He would never forgive her. He would probably kill her. He would kill her and go back to Reagan and face her wrath at having come back alone. How would he go back alone? If vampire blood had the power to heal him, she hoped it would. She prayed it would. She didn’t want to be responsible for Curly’s death. She looked at Dakota. He ref
used to close his eyes. He kept them fixated on his brother, who was breathing steadily now, still asleep. There was a horrible gash on the side of Dakota’s face that she hadn’t noticed before. She figured it would heal on its own.

  Knowing that Kota would stay awake until he couldn’t anymore, Max allowed herself to be taken by her dreams again. She slept at Curly’s feet with one hand on his left boot. He would be fine. They would all wake up together in the morning and he would be fine.

  Ten

  Max

  ●

  I’m on a train. The Strays have surrounded me at almost every angle. I have to push and fight my way through them to grab Dakota’s hand. I feel their nails ripping into me, drawing blood. Even with all the commotion, I feel the blood all over me. On my arms, on my neck, on my cheek. They’ve just about done everything to demobilize me, but I’m still running and fighting. Dakota’s fighting too, fighting to get them off of me and fighting to grab my hand. I can see his face clearly now. His green eyes are so fierce as he fights that I think of him as a mighty warrior, a soldier whose mission is specifically to save me.

  “Maxxy,” he shouts my name like it means something to him. He sounds worried. He sounds scared. “Max!”

  He is worried. He’s terrified. For me.

  “I can’t reach you!” he shouts. “Reach.”

  I want to call to him not to worry. I want to tell him that it’s okay to let me die. It’s okay for him to let me go, as long as he’s safe. He doesn’t need to save me now, but I can’t form the words to speak. I can’t even think beyond getting through those Strays and to him. All at once they pile in on me. Dakota keeps fighting them off, and I’m trying so hard to fight too. I can feel the tips of his fingers. The very tips. Then he’s snatched away from me again, and the entire train goes dark…