The Dead: Wilds Book Three (The Wilds 3) Read online

I turned all my attention back to Bookie and then to the clock. Seventy-one hours and fifty minutes to go. “We can do this, Bookie.”

  My normal ray of sunshine didn’t look so optimistic.

  “We’ll get through this,” I said, trying to force a conviction of steel into my voice when I felt more like rusted junk.

  9

  “After we leave here, I think we should start our own library somewhere. What do you think of that?” Bookie didn’t speak, and I wasn’t sure he heard me anymore. He hadn’t responded in hours. I ran the damp cloth across his fevered brow for what might be the hundredth time. The water was lukewarm now, but I feared leaving him to get a new bucket.

  I grabbed his hand, hoping he knew he wasn’t fighting this alone, and looked at the clock on my nightstand. Only eight hours had passed, but he’d already lost consciousness. It wasn’t a good sign. Everything I knew about the Bloody Death said the quicker a person lost consciousness, the quicker they died. Bookie hadn’t lasted very long at all.

  I wasn’t a doctor and I didn’t know how to save him. The real doctor wasn’t coming. I was sure Tank had found him by now. He just hadn’t been willing to jeopardize himself for someone else. If Bookie could just hang in there…

  I grabbed his hand tighter. “We’re going to see this whole world, Bookie, you and me. We’re going to see every country there is, explore every ruin in the Wilds. We won’t stop until you have enough books to fill up a library of your own.”

  A shiver ran through his fevered body, and I climbed up on the bed with him and pulled his upper body onto mine so I could wrap my arms around him and give him my heat. I’d give him everything I had if I could.

  “Bookie, I know you already know this, but you’re my best friend. So here’s the thing: you can’t die. You just can’t. Even if it seems easier right now, you can’t. I know, I’m being selfish, but I can’t lose you.” I dragged an arm across my runny nose and forced my voice to remain steady in case he was hearing me. “Do you hear me, Bookie? You can’t die. You can’t. You said you would always be there for me. You promised me that, and I’m holding you to it.”

  I was bordering on hysteria and I knew it. Might have even embraced it, because it was better than any of the other emotions swirling in me, like absolute despair and dread.

  I clung to him, wrapping my arms around him as tight as I could while I still had him here with me, because I feared it wouldn’t be for much longer. I stroked at my magic like I had countless times by now, trying to infuse him with whatever I had inside me. I didn’t know if it made a difference, but it didn’t seem to.

  I looked toward the ceiling like Fudge would and tried to talk to her god. “Take my magic and give it to him.” If her god existed, he could gladly take everything I had. I’d thought that when the Wood Mist stole my magic, it had been the worst thing that could happen to me, but I was so wrong.

  “Take whatever you want from me. Just give me Bookie.”

  I couldn’t lose him, not Bookie. He’d been my crutch, the one who would back me up and be there with me no matter what I did or what crazy idea I had. He was the first person in my life that had loved me unconditionally. He hadn’t cared that I was a Plaguer, even when he’d first met me. Even my friends at the Cement Giant hadn’t accepted me the way he had. He’d risked his life to help save those friends because they’d meant something to me. He’d gotten me through when I’d lost two of them.

  Now I would watch him die because no matter what I did, nothing seemed to make a difference. He hadn’t opened his eyes in hours, and every time I touched his hands, they were colder than they had been—his heart struggling to pump enough blood to his extremities. I wished I could go back in time, and never told him to come here with me.

  I rocked him in my arms as I spoke to him, refusing to give up on him. “Bookie, please. Don’t give up. You can do this. I know because I did it, and you’re a hundred-times-better person than me, so I know you can. Do you hear me?”

  Tapping at the bedroom window drew my attention, and I saw Tank there.

  “The doctor?” I asked without getting up, even though I knew the answer.

  He shook his head, confirming the doctor wasn’t coming. I didn’t ask why. Didn’t want to hear the excuses.

  “I’m going to go and try and find Dax. If not, I’m going to see if I can round up some help,” he said.

  I nodded. So it was already getting ugly. How quickly they’d turned.

  Tank disappeared and I pulled the blanket up around Bookie and me, bundling us up together the best I could as the fall night chill settled into the house. I had no wood left for the stove and I wasn’t willing to leave Bookie for even a moment. If I could keep him warm, stay with him and talk to him, maybe he’d make it still.

  “Don’t worry, Bookie, I’m not leaving you.” He never would’ve left me either.

  * * *

  Time didn’t seem to exist after a while, and I found myself repeating my pleas to Fudge’s god, and then to the Wood Mist, anyone who might listen.

  I was pretty sure no one was.

  The room was dark as we lay there. I wasn’t sure when the shivering stopped, or when he’d made the last groan of pain, but I knew he was gone. The labored breaths had ceased some time ago, but I hadn’t moved. Once I did move, once I got out of this bed, then there would be no going back. This would be real. As long as I stayed here, Bookie was still with me.

  I gripped him to me. Another person, dead. Why did they all have to leave or die? Was it me? Was I cursed somehow to be alone?

  I should’ve been better to him. I’d involved him in all my messes. I’d practically dragged him into them. Fudge had told me to leave him behind. Dax had, too. But I hadn’t been able to let him go. I’d been too weak and now he was dead, paying a price that I should’ve borne.

  I didn’t know how long I’d lain there with him like that when I heard the noise, like something heavy hitting the front door.

  I would’ve ignored it and still stayed there with him if I hadn’t heard, “Go back where you came from, you dirty Plaguer, or we’ll burn this house down to the ground.”

  Unclenching my fingers from where they were locked around Bookie, I took a deep breath and forced myself to face what lay ahead. I couldn’t stay in this bed forever, even if I wanted to. I had to get to my feet and do what needed to be done. I’d hurt Bookie enough.

  I wouldn’t let them burn these walls down around him, even if I might deserve that end. Bookie deserved better, and he would get it. I might not have done right by him while he was living, but I’d do right by him now if it cost me everything I had, including my life. I owed him that. I owed him everything.

  It was time to leave this place. Turned out Dax was right. He was right a lot. Maybe it was for the best I left here alone. Maybe I was one of those people who were meant to walk this world by themselves. It sure seemed like it right now. Maybe that was why I lost everyone, and I needed to accept it.

  10

  I left Bookie on the bed and made my way out through the living room and opened the front door, not fearing any of them. A rock wrapped in paper sat by the front stoop, a dent in the door’s wood above it, with no sign of people. I reached down and grabbed it and shut the door again. I let the rock fall to the floor and looked at the sheet.

  Leave or we’ll burn you out.

  I crumbled the paper and let it drop to the floor beside the rock before walking back to the bedroom.

  “Bookie, they said they’re going to burn us out. Looks like we’re in a real pinch this time, huh?” I asked.

  I imagined him looking at me, stare lowered, just as he had when I’d talked to him in the stables before we came here. He’d say, Is this going to be another lecture about how I could die?

  I wrapped my arms around myself. “No, I won’t be giving you any more of those speeches.”

  There is a god.

  “I hope so, Bookie. I really hope so.”

  Bookie was dead.

/>   Dax was right. I should’ve left this place. I hadn’t listened. Bookie would’ve come with me and then maybe he wouldn’t be dead. This place was nothing but toxic, with its false mirages of safety and acceptance. I’d believed in a delusion.

  Even now, the people I thought were my friends were watching the house. I hadn’t seen them when I walked out on the stoop, but I could feel them. They’d be coming for us but I wouldn’t let them get their hands on Bookie. It was time to go, and I wouldn’t leave Bookie to rot in this house alone.

  I grabbed my bag, the one Fudge had given me, and went through the stock in the kitchen. I wiped out Tank’s stash of jerky, some cornbread Fudge had brought over yesterday, and a flask of whiskey I found in one of the cabinets. I moved about the place, packing what else I thought would be of need, leaving the stack of books untouched, even though I’d yet to read one.

  I slung the bag over my shoulder. It was the dead of night. No one would follow me out of the gates if I left now. I couldn’t wait for Dax to show up and bail me out—again. Maybe put a stop to what I had planned next.

  I left the house and walked to the stables, feeling the eyes peering out their windows as I passed. I lifted my chin and continued on, hoping someone would get in my way, because I had enough anger to fill up this whole place right now and not a single outlet in sight.

  The stables were empty when I got there and saddled Charlie, tying my bag to the back. He fidgeted the whole way back to the house, as if he was feeding off me.

  I hadn’t felt this alone in years, this sad or utterly defeated. But I wouldn’t fall apart. There were things that had to be handled.

  I walked Charlie up to the house and left him grazing on the front lawn as I went inside. Dax’s bedroom door was open and I stepped inside it, breathing deeply. I ran my fingers over his jacket hanging on the doorknob and threw his on over my own, knowing I would need the additional warmth, and then shut his door.

  I walked back to my room. Bookie was lying on my bed, his body lifeless. I sat beside him, and even though I’d thought there weren’t any tears left, there still seemed to be more. “We’re leaving here now, Bookie.”

  I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him upward and close to me. “Why did you leave me?” I let myself devolve for only a few minutes into abject misery before I knew I had to pull it together. Once his body started to stiffen in death, I’d never be able to do what was needed.

  I took the sheets from my bed and made a shroud, wrapping him snugly within, not wanting anyone to see him like this, so pale and unlike his true self.

  “This will keep you warm while we travel. I know you’re cold.”

  I dragged him from the bed and through the living room, wanting to preserve my strength in order to get him on the horse. I hated to bring him outside like this, for all the invisible onlookers to see, but there was no helping it.

  I’d barely been able to lift him, but I got Bookie’s body slung over Charlie’s back and then walked Charlie and him over to Fudge’s.

  I slipped a letter through the slot on the door, making sure to not let the metal clank. She’d find it after I was way gone, and that was for the best. My path ahead was tough enough, and I wasn’t sure I would be able to defend it at the moment.

  I mounted Charlie and, with a hand resting on Bookie, clucked my tongue and urged the horse forward.

  “They’re watching us, Bookie, but you were right. I don’t care what they think anymore.”

  I rode to the front of the gate and it creaked open before I got close.

  “I hope you get eaten by beasts for bringing your disease here,” Tim, one of the night watchmen, yelled. It was the same guy I’d eaten a hamburger with last week and joked about the new plumbing system plans with.

  I didn’t reply, didn’t even look over at him as I rode out of the Rock. It didn’t matter what they thought. I was happy to leave. This place was nothing but a lie.

  As the distance grew between me and the Rock, I thought of the words I’d written to Fudge as I kept my hand upon Bookie, selfishly looking for his support, even now when he had nothing left to give.

  Dear Fudge,

  I’ll write this plainly, as there is no way to write it that will lessen the pain. Bookie died from the Bloody Death. I hope you know I would’ve done anything to save him. I would’ve given everything I had, including sacrificing my own life. He was the best person I’d ever known and I will mourn him until I die.

  I’m hoping that my leaving will allow you to stay at the Rock with Tiffy and Tank. It’s much safer for you to remain there than where I’ll be going. I hope one day we will meet again in better times, that I’ll be able to sit and share a meal with you again, but there’s something I must do. I’m hoping it will bring us both some peace.

  I’m also sorry that I’m taking Bookie with me before you had a chance to say goodbye, but I needed to protect him, since he can’t protect himself right now. If you want to visit Bookie, he’ll be resting on the ridge to the west that has the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen. If you don’t know where it is, ask Dax. He’ll know the spot. Bookie will be happy there. It’s one of his favorite places.

  Tell Tiffy to stay out of trouble and that I’ll be seeing her again one day before this life is through with whatever it has left to offer.

  As to Dax…tell him goodbye.

  It only took Charlie a half an hour to get us to the ridge, and the sunrise was just starting to sparkle on the dew-laden grass. I dismounted and grabbed the shovel from where I’d tied it on the back of the saddle.

  I walked around the place looking for the perfect spot until I stopped beside the rock we liked to use as a backrest. “What about here, Bookie?” I looked over at him, lifeless on the horse, and turned my head quickly before that became the last image burned into my brain.

  “Yeah, this is perfect,” I said, answering for him. I dug the shovel into the ground right where he used to sit, and started to dig. Each shovel of dirt seemed heavier than the last.

  I dragged Bookie to the grave, having to stop a few times when the wrapping shifted off him. I settled him in then went back to the saddlebags and dug out his books.

  “I know you loved this one,” I said as I laid a Moobie on his chest. “And don’t worry, I didn’t forget your other favorites.” I tucked several more books around him. “And yes, I’m going to read that other book you wanted me to that I’ve been dragging my feet on. I told you I’d give it a try and I will, even if the lead guy seems like a total dick from page one.”

  My hands shook as I moved the books around a bit until they were perfectly arranged and he was surrounded by all his favorites. I climbed out of the grave from where I’d been kneeling next to him.

  “I have to cover you now.” I grabbed the shovel, eyeing the pile of dirt that I’d have to place on top of him. “It has to be done. If I don’t, I’m afraid something will try and eat you or take your books. I’ll be back. I’ll come back a lot and bring you more books, but I have to leave you for a while. I have to find a way to fix this for you. You were the one that always said that the world would be as good as we made it. I’m going to make it good, Bookie, and I’m going to do it for you.”

  11

  I wasn’t sure if I’d remember the way to Hell’s Corner, one of the main hubs of the pirate stronghold. Part of me hoped I’d forgotten, because then I’d have a good excuse to not do what I was doing. I’d be forced to turn around.

  But I did remember the way, and every mile farther away from the Rock, it felt like my heart was being buried back on the crest along with Bookie.

  Dax would be angry, but there were more important things to worry about in this world than the revenge of one man. Or how leaving him made me feel like I was adrift in the ocean.

  I hadn’t realized how much I’d come to rely on him. It was better that I was leaving. I couldn’t afford to rely on anyone like that. It was dangerous, made me soft, and I needed to be hard for what was to come.


  My course was set. Jacob, King of the Pirates, needed me. I had some leverage with him and he had some leverage with the people I needed information from. There was only one path I was willing to go down, and it wasn’t a U-turn. I needed Bookie’s death to bring some good.

  Fudge had told me once that she didn’t believe people stayed in their bodies. She said that their souls went to a better place. I asked her where this place was, but she said she didn’t know its actual location. Just said it could be all around us and yet out of sight. That was why she talked to her parents even when she couldn’t see them. She said she thought they listened to her.

  At the time, I’d thought it was ridiculous. I’d never seen her dead parents hanging around. That’s how I knew how desperate I was when I looked around as I rode Charlie.

  “Bookie? You out here?”

  Nope. Nothing. I rode alone into Hell’s Corner.

  The place was just as creepy the second time around. Charlie neighed as he started to dance to the side, disliking this place as much as I had the first time I’d come here. I had a feeling that even the beasts avoided this place.

  I looked to the weaving waterway, lined with trees but devoid of boats. Not that a pirate ship would fit here, but there were no dinghies or other smaller vessels to be found either. They’d come, though. I’d heard they policed this area regularly.

  Patting Charlie’s neck, I slid to the ground. “Don’t worry, buddy, you’re off the hook. I’m pretty sure horses aren’t welcome where I’ll be staying.” My bag of insufficient supplies fell to my feet as I pulled the bridle off Charlie, afraid he might get it tangled on his way back home, and then gave his rump a slap. He hesitated.

  “Go,” I said, shooing him off. Like Fudge and Tiffy, he’d be better off behind the walls of the Rock.