He’d spotted them about twenty paces back. Plan of attack? None. There was no way out of their current situation unless one of them ended up dead. Or they both got out alive because Nadya was capable of holding her own. She was Raema, not Bloodborne, but she was better than any female he’d seen. Even within his tribe. Raema were the offspring of a female Traveler and a human male. They had long lives, and heightened senses. They were also more acceptable of their emotions on a physical level. Although too much of an emotion bombarding them could sometimes lead to a complete breakdown. Symptoms he had yet to see from Nadya. She had a loose rein on her emotions, and he could tell she was trying to keep it together. Phyr hoped he was right, because if shit went down, it’d come flying back up in his face with the stench of a thousand deaths if something happened to the girl. And a girl she was. Naïve in her thoughts. Any other Raema female was ruthless and showed very little emotion. The females of his kind made succinct choices that benefited only themselves. It’s why he worked alone. Childish with her impulses, Nadya had to go and run the hell off. Now they were in a situation. And definitely not a good one.
“Be ready with your weapon. I suggest you draw it now because once they get up in our face, you’re not going to have time to do anything else except maybe attempt to protect your face while they gut you with their bare hands.”
Nadya pulled the saw blade and thrust it out in front of her, her knuckles prominent as she held her weapon in a death grip. Good. She’d keep hold of her blade.
“What are they?” she whispered. Anytime anyone first came in contact with a Reaper, they were scared shitless. Reapers were blind, but they had exceptional hearing. They had very large, very bald heads and no eyes. Not even sockets. Their noses were two slits, and their mouths were wide with sharp teeth for killing their prey. It wasn’t public knowledge where they came from, but most assumed they were some form of mutation. Everyone who came in contact with a Reaper—and survived—were only able to give descriptions. They couldn’t tell you where they came from or where they went. They’d just popped up around the same time the tunnels were flooded.
“Reapers. No more talking, they have acute hearing, and if you make any more noise than necessary, they’ll swarm us. They travel in groups of two to four. Let’s hope there’s only two of them.”
He knew there wasn’t, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. He needed her head in the game, not on the grotesque monsters in front of them. One by one, they crawled up through the opening of the tracks like roaches crawling up a wall, each creature bent low on all fours as if sniffing the ground. Their heads cocked to the side as they tried to listen for any sound that would direct them toward their prey. Phyr could hear his own heart as it beat at a somewhat steady pace. He knew what to do, but he was more worried for Nadya than himself. The honest truth of it was, if she should get herself into trouble, he’d be reluctant to help her. He was a loner by nature, didn’t care to have people in his space for a very good reason. But even as the thought crossed his mind, Phyr knew he’d make an exception for her. As the creatures drew closer, he realized belatedly that they were completely surrounded. There was only one way to go, and it was through them.
Phyr slowly pulled his sword from his back. The sound of the blade scraping the leather as it was unsheathed was all the sound the Reapers needed to attack. Any sane person would have probably given up, or screamed as their flesh was ripped from their bodies. Not Phyr. A sick as it was, things like this gave him a rush. Fueled his need to survive. He spared a second for Nadya, saw she too was moving quickly to duck out of the way of the Reapers’ claws. He should have warned her about the venom secreted from their fingertips. Should she get scratched, she would become deathly ill. Don’t get caught, girl.
All sound was muted as he focused in on each of his attackers. He took on three, and Nadya was holding her own with two more. His sword sang through the air with a distinct sound as he brought it down, slicing through a Reaper’s arm. White blood sprayed, hitting the ground at his feet and covering his boots. The Reapers’ blood was deadly too, but both he and Nadya were wearing protective street clothes made by Stitch. They were practically invincible as long as they stayed clear of their claws.
“Get in front of them, Nadya!”
“Busy over here!” she shouted back, not paying attention to a word he was saying. Phyr swung his sword wide in a blind fury, hoping to catch the other two Reapers off guard, but they quickly jumped out of the way. Now that they knew the sound of his blade, they were dodging his blows, making the fight nearly an impossible one. But he continued to sever as many limbs that got in the way of his blade as he could.
Nadya hissed, and Phyr looked back to see she’d been scratched. She kept going, fighting through the pain. It was time to bring this gathering to a complete and total standstill. Phyr pulled a spray grenade from his belt, knowing he would suffer its wrath, as well. He saw no other way out of the fray. There were more coming, and he didn’t understand why the pack was so large. Nadya was beginning to get lethargic. Her breathing was short, and as she lifted her saw blade high above her head, she almost stumbled back, as if the blade were too heavy for her. The venom from the Reaper was setting in. “Fuck!”
Phyr released the pin and grabbed Nadya around the waist, careful of her blades as he covered her body, just as the explosive went off. Small rock pellets sprayed in every direction, a few caught him on his arms and back as well as the backs of his leg, but he didn’t move. The Reapers received the most damage; the sound of the rock pellets penetrating their skin sounded like dart gun ammo hitting its target. The pellets wouldn’t kill the Reapers, but they would slow them down long enough for Phyr to get them to safety.
“All right, you fought well, but we gotta get out of here. Can you walk?”
Her face was covered in sweat, and he knew the fever was setting in. He needed to find them a place to rest. He knew she had meds in her bag, but he didn’t have time to give them to her before the Reapers recovered. “We have to move, Nadya. Get up.”
She moaned. Clearly feeling the effects of the venom. It wouldn’t be too much longer before she’d be puking her guts out.
Fuck.
Phyr reached down, pulled her up, and threw her arm over his shoulder so he could lift her. She didn’t weigh much. He was able to half carry, half drag her down the tracks. There were no buildings near that would be of use to them, but below him was dry land, and what looked to be some kind of sewer. It was better to be in the sewer tunnels then topside with Reapers.
“Look, see over there—” he pointed to the covered manhole, “—we just need to make it there, then you can rest. I’ll see what’s in the bag and get you patched up. Are you with me, Nadya?”
No response.
Shit.
Her body started to convulse. That was never a good sign. He’d never been scratched by a Reaper, but he’d seen others afflicted, and the ones infected with the venom very rarely survived.
V
There were voices all around, but Nadya couldn’t understand a single one. Or is that just in my head? There was something in her ears, or at least that’s what it felt like. There was also the pungent odor of waste. The kind she’d rather not think about. Her body ached all over, and she was sweating. A lot. She tried to open her eyes, but it hurt too much. It felt like someone had poured sand into her eyes and scratched her eyeballs raw. Her body temperature rose with every breath she took, tightening the muscles in her stomach until she ached more.
“Don’t try to open your eyes. You won’t like where we are anyway.”
That voice she understood loud and clear. It was Phyr.
“Where…” Her voice sounded broken. She could barely form words. If she tried, she feared there would be dire consequences. It felt like she’d been stung by giant tree ants and scratched past the point of bleeding by thistle bushes.
“Don’t try to talk. You need to rest. You’ve been out for most of the night. You need to get some more sleep before we can head back. You’re lucky I had supplies, you’re clean out.”
She didn’t want to go back to the Quarry. Nadya tried to move her body, but it protested. Too weak to even move, she collapsed back into Phyr’s chest. She realized the heat was coming not only from her but him, too. His back was against a wall, she assumed, and the upper half of her body was cradled in his arms. She wanted to open her eyes, gauge his state of mind, but was unable to. She refused to take too deep a breath, for fear of the pain she was currently experiencing. Why does it hurt so bad? Even when she’d awakened in a pool of her own blood, the pain hadn’t escalated to the level of discomfort she was experiencing now.
“You fought really well. I could show you more if you want to learn. I think you’d be better with throwing daggers. No up close and personal combat for you. Or maybe a long-range rifle. I have a few stashed.”
He was offering to teach her to fight. That was funny. She knew how to protect herself, even hold her own, but she was no match for the Reapers.
“If you’d like to learn, just squeeze my hand lightly.”
Was he holding her hand? She had no clue, but as she became more aware of her surroundings, she realized, yes, her hand was in his. His hand was big, warm, and strong. Heavily callused. She could feel his pulse—her pointer finger rested just beneath his wrist. His heart beat steadily. Strong. She lifted her finger, that’s all she was able to do. Too weak to do anything else.
“Good. Glad to hear you’re interested. I’ll see to it you end up with me in the end.”
She moved her finger again to acknowledge him. She’d rather end up with Phyr as her patron. It was the better deal. He’d been kind. But if Anna and Dominika were dead, it’d do her no good. There would be no reason for her to stay longer than needed. A small part of her was relieved to think she might be free to leave if they were dead, if she didn’t have to follow through with the contract to ensure their safety. She could do what she wanted to do, what she’d set out to do in the beginning. She tossed the thought away. She would fight. Follow through.
“I’m going to try and catch some sleep, you need to do the same. I’m hoping by mid-morning we can move. We’ll go around. Can’t go back the way we came. But Diamond knows I’m bringing you back. There’s nothing I can do about punishment, but I’ll speak in your defense.”
She moved her finger again.
Nadya didn’t go to sleep. She listened to the sounds surrounding her. There was movement above them. She was already starting to feel a little better. She could hear someone or something milling about above. She hoped it wasn’t Reapers. The sound above stopped right overhead. There was a loud scraping sound. Phyr’s hand tightened on hers.
“Quiet. We’re going to have to move.”
She wasn’t about to disagree with him. Even if it was going to kill her, she was moving. Nadya peeled her eyes open. She couldn’t do anything about the smell, but she could at least keep her eyes open. Even if it was pitch black.
“You stay right behind me. As close as you can. Where I step, you step. Don’t speak. If you understand, just use your hand.”
To remind her that her hand was still in his, Phyr squeezed. Nadya moved her thumb along the inside of his wrist so he knew she understood. They moved quietly through the tunnel, edging along the walls. Slimy moss, sludge, and all manner of grossness were attached to her clothing. Nadya would have emptied the contents of her stomach if she could, only it would alert the Reapers to their location. As quietly as she could, Nadya moved forward. At some point during the fight with the Reapers, she’d lost her mask and goggles. She had nothing to combat the stench, as it grew thicker and fouler the deeper they went down the dark tunnel. She could hear water off in the distance.
Behind her, she could hear splashing, as if someone were running through a shallow pond. They were trying to catch up to her and Phyr. There was no sound except for their feet sloshing through the water. Every so often, she’d hear a clicking sound. They’re communicating with each other. Reapers didn’t have eyes. She’d been too busy fighting them to notice if they could speak. But it would make sense that if they used sound to track, they’d also use it to talk to each other.
Phyr stopped walking. They’d come to a fork in the tunnel. His hands squeezed hers once, twice, and then three times. Nadya didn’t know what he meant until he did it again. He was asking for her thoughts. Should they take door number one, two, or three? Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness a bit, and the path in front of them led to the sound of the water. The other two tunnels offered nothing she could see—or hear—that would be to their advantage. At least if they kept in the direction of the sound of water, it would throw the Reapers off. She hoped. She tapped his wrist twice and was glad he was on the same page as she was.
They moved towards the sound of running water. It grew until they came to a pipe gushing with it. Phyr turned towards her and she could see his eyes. He pointed up. Nadya tilted her head and noticed a manhole. They were in a sewer, she could see it, hell, it was the reason it smelled so bad down here. It could be safe up there, or it could lead them straight into another situation. The walls were slimy with algae and there was no ladder she could see.
“I’m going to need a boost, Nadya. You’re too weak to pull me up, but I can pull you up no problem. It’s going to hurt like hell, but it’s the only way.”
She gave Phyr a curt nod.
He was right.
There was no other choice. It was either his way, or they’d both die. She didn’t know Phyr, not really. But what she did know of him, she liked. He was honorable. But he was loyal to Diamond and not her, and she wouldn’t forget that. He was, after all, leading them back to her slaver. The same dick who’d collared and chained her to a wall. The same brute, who didn’t give two shits about her family’s safety. Nadya thought back to an earlier conversation she’d had with Phyr and hoped he was right; she hoped Attia would bring Nika and her mother.
Nadya placed her hand against the slimy wall and tried to find purchase. Phyr waited until she’d given him the go ahead before he used her back to jump up towards the manhole cover. The Reapers were getting close. She could hear them. They were still following. The water hadn’t deterred them at all. Her throat still too sore to speak, she hoped Phyr could sense her urgency.
“There is somewhat of a ladder midway up, its rusted out, broken. It will barely hold me, so we need to do this quickly,” he called down from the hole. “You need to jump as hard and as high as you can. It’s going to hurt, but you can do it. You have to. Understand?”
She nodded again.
The Reapers were getting closer.
Nadya flinched at the sound of their claws scraping against the walls. They were too close. Her entire body was beyond pain now. She was numb all over. Phyr was right; she had to make the jump. He hadn’t left her. Whether it was because she was the property of Diamond or because he could truly be trusted, she wasn’t entirely sure. Right now, she was just thankful he was there.
With shaky limbs, she leapt. On her first attempt, she felt the tip of his fingers. When she landed, she slipped, falling back into the sewer water. Her entire body submerged. She came back to the surface, got back on the ledge, and tried again. When she jumped this time, there was a second when she saw the horror on Phyr’s face. She didn’t have time to process because mid-air, a grey, spiny arm reached forward, caught her around the waist, and tore her away from Phyr’s grasp.
V
There were a million thoughts going through Phyr’s head when Nadya was taken by the Reapers. He could still feel the ghost of her fingers as they’d barely touched his hand before she was gone. He didn’t think about the consequences of what it meant, nor did he think about what would happen when he went after Nadya and the Reapers. He leapt down into the tunnel and ran as if being chased by hundreds of Ragers. He knew which way they were headed, even though he didn’t know their destination. He could track them. Nobody who came in direct contact with a Reaper ever lived to tell the tale.
Phyr tried to rack his memory for information about Reapers. It was hopeless. Very little was known. If a person were scratched, cut, or run through with their venomous claws, it was thought to be certain death. In all his long years, he’d never heard of one of his kind being scratched, and maybe it was because their body processed things harmful to their body differently. He hoped Nadya’s would do the same. Raemas healed fast, and maybe her body would do the same as his would and filter out the toxins. There was no clear evidence of what exactly happened when someone was clawed because the Reapers would take their victims, sometimes leaving only body parts or articles of clothing behind. He didn’t know of even one recorded survivor.
There will be tonight.
Which was a weird conclusion. He didn’t know anything about this girl, only that she was like him. He’d been alone too long. He’d left his tribe in order to search for the disappearance of a person close to him. He and Nadya weren’t from the same tribe, but she was Raema and it had him running harder, faster. Maybe it was the scent of her blood that led the Reapers down the manhole. How else were they able to track her? He knew they’d follow, but Phyr had hoped he’d fooled them by going into the sewer, hoping the smell would mask them. There was a loud noise directly in front of him, and Phyr could see a faint light. Figures were moving up ahead, crawling up the wall. Nadya’s prone body lay lifeless on one of the Reaper’s shoulder.
She wasn’t moving. Could she be dead already? Phyr followed closely behind. He made sure to keep his steps in alignment with theirs. In a way, they were like Sub-dwellers with their heightened senses. Lindy had once told him how her siblings would play a game of following the other’s exact movements at the same time to throw each other off. He did that now with the Reapers. There were two of them. He mimicked the one closest to him as he followed, being sure to step when it stepped. When he came to the wall they were scaling, he saw that there were footholds and used those to get up the wall and into a hole that was inside of an old abandoned subway tunnel.
Phyr continued to follow closely behind, making sure to stick to the shadows. Not that it would matter, but he knew there were others down in the subways. He didn’t want to tip anyone off to his presence. It was warmer in the tunnels. He wanted to remove some of his clothing but knew better. The water they’d walked through earlier had soaked his pants and begun to rub his skin raw, but half the stuff down here was toxic to his skin. As they moved forward, Phyr noticed there were sacks hanging from the walls. They swayed as the Reapers moved past. One Reaper stopped in front of one, sniffed, but then kept moving forward. Phyr knew what was in the sacks. He was not ignorant of the meat that hung inside. There were some that were bound in corners, more blackened with age, others still fresh. The other inhabitants of the tunnels were not Sub-dwellers or Reapers. No, they were one step away from succumbing to the Rage. These were the men and woman who scavenged the city for any manner of food. They stockpiled it down in the subway tunnels to prepare for the Razor Winter.
The Reapers stopped in front of a service entrance. Their eyeless faces turned toward each other. They were communicating. Their mouths weren’t moving, but they were doing something. The one holding Nadya moved forward, pulling the door open as he slipped inside, the others following closely behind. Phyr crept towards the entrance they’d gone through and listened.
Nothing.
Not one sound.
When he opened the door, there was nothing but an empty closet. He looked for a switch, a latch. Anything that would lead him to a secret passage. He came up short. Phyr stepped back, looked up, and noticed a symbol etched just above the doorway. It was a symbol he’d seen many times before on Lindy’s left shoulder. This was an entrance to where the Sub-dwellers lived. Why would the Reapers be taking Nadya there?
Only one person would know the answer to that question.
Lindy.