Demon Disgrace (Resurrection Chronicles Book 8) Read online

  Her footsteps whispered down the hall after a few moments, and I rubbed my tired eyes as I resumed my pacing.

  I just needed to stay awake twelve more hours. No problem.

  Panic made my heart race, and my lungs screamed for air as I ran through the trees, pulling my sister along. I could feel the infected behind us and knew we were out of time. Running was pointless.

  “Hannah,” Katie panted. “I can’t.”

  “Keep going,” I said.

  I glanced over my shoulder, already knowing what I’d see. Katie’s wide, desperate eyes, pleading for me to help her. And, just behind her, the infected less than ten yards away.

  She stumbled.

  Her hand started to slip through mine. I tightened my hold, but the weight of her pulled at my arm as she completely lost her footing.

  She fell to her knees.

  Her wide eyes locked on mine.

  The infected kept coming.

  I pulled once, but she couldn’t stand. She was too tired. Too out of breath.

  I hesitated…

  …then I released her.

  “Hannah!”

  She screamed my name as I turned and ran. Her scream echoed louder a moment later.

  I looked back over my shoulder. The infected were no longer chasing me. They were converging on my sister.

  One hand emerged through the mass of bodies.

  “Hannah!”

  I woke myself screaming then scrambled to the bathroom to throw up. Leaning on the toilet, I struggled to breathe through my self-loathing and tears. I hated. I hated Emily and Merdon for taking my bottles. I hated the fey for coming to the surface. But mostly, I just hated myself.

  I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t keep reliving my hell every time I closed my eyes.

  Staggering to my feet, still sobbing, I went to the window. Maybe fate would be more kind this time. Maybe, like last night, Merdon would be gone.

  I set my hands to the window and heaved upward. It didn’t budge. I tried the locks, but they weren’t latched. The window wasn’t moving. I tried the other one, and it didn’t move either.

  Swearing and crying, I stumbled to my door. I’d find a different window.

  “Don’t bother,” Emily said, scaring another scream from me.

  Shaking so much I couldn’t stay upright, I collapsed on the floor and looked at the chair in the dark corner near my bed. She sat there, her troubled expression barely lit by the dim light coming through the windows.

  “Merdon nailed them shut from the outside.” She leaned forward. “Talk to me, Hannah. I know something bad happened to you. Tell me. Let me help you.”

  I shook my head slowly and rested my cheek on the carpet.

  “If you were my friend, you’d let me forget,” I whispered.

  “I can’t. You’re trying to kill yourself, Hannah. Drinking too much. Jumping off the roof. You can’t see what you’re doing, but I can. And I’m not going to let you go that route. We’ll figure this out together.”

  “Why are you sitting in the chair?”

  The shaking was starting to fade, but not the guilt. Never the guilt.

  “You’ve been fighting sleep for too long. I knew you were going to crash tonight and wanted to be here for you.”

  “You should have woken me up,” I whispered.

  “I was hoping you’d want to talk about it.”

  She’d let me suffer on purpose. The tears started fresh.

  “Leave me alone, Emily.”

  “I can’t.”

  Anger replaced fear. Raging, I got to my feet.

  “Get the fuck out!” I screamed at her.

  She got the message and beat a hasty retreat. I slammed the door behind her and made sure I locked it. This time, I dragged the chair in front of it and flipped the mattress off the bed so I wouldn’t be tempted by it again. Not like I would have been.

  I could still hear my sister screaming my name.

  Chapter Ten

  Dawn’s light was barely kissing the horizon when I snuck from my bedroom with my box of goods. I’d been more than a little surprised when I’d finally thought to check that the box was still in my room and found everything there. Apparently, the items had been all deemed safe by Mother Emily.

  Dizzy and sick, I barely managed to get my coat and boots on. But I didn’t linger until it passed. I didn’t have the luxury of time. A cold sweat broke out over my skin as I carried the weighted box outside.

  After collecting my supplies yesterday, I’d learned the fey left for supply runs every morning and met any humans who wanted to go with them by the wall. I didn’t intend to join a supply run but figured it was the best way to hitch a ride over to Tenacity.

  Thankfully, no one questioned my early-morning presence at the wall. Probably because I wasn’t the only one with a box of supplies for trade. That and the fey were too busy talking about a cow run, whatever that meant.

  When Ryan, Mya’s brother, finally signaled that the few fey gathered were ready, I looked around at the familiar faces, relieved to see one missing. Merdon’s continued absence would ensure I’d have a better day.

  The fey who offered to give me a ride kept glancing at my supplies then at my face. At one time in my life, I would have told him to spit it out already. Now, I just didn’t give a damn about whatever he had on his mind. My biggest concern was not throwing up from all the jostling.

  We reached Tenacity in minutes, thankfully, and I followed a few other humans to a supply shed that Tenacity used for trading. Unlike the one in Tolerance, there were no overflowing shelves. There wasn’t even enough food to feed a family of four for three days.

  While we set up our tables, Ryan announced that he and the group of fey who’d brought us over would be back in a few hours and asked if there were any volunteers from Tenacity willing to go with them.

  Looking out at the hungry faces that were already gathering, I saw no one was interested in leaving the safety of the wall to hunt for supplies. They’d rather slowly starve and fight over the meager offerings we were willing to trade than risk their immediate lives.

  I felt a new level of hopelessness. What I’d said to Merdon about watching their pet humans die wasn’t as far in the future as I’d thought.

  “What will you take for that box of noodles?” a man asked me.

  “Any kind of alcohol you have,” I said after a quick glance around. It wasn’t necessary, though. All the fey had left with Ryan.

  “I have an apple,” he offered.

  “Did I say I wanted an apple? No. Booze only, people,” I said loudly. There were a few grumbles. Several people broke away from my line to go to another. One guy just completely walked away.

  Most remained to press forward and offer up something else as equally useless as the apple.

  “Use your ears,” I said. “Alcohol. I want alcohol.”

  Someone told me to fuck off. I gave him the finger. After several minutes of no one approaching me, the man I’d seen leave earlier approached with a glass jar. It had two inches of clear liquid in it.

  “This is just a sample,” he said quietly. “I don’t want no one knowing what I have.”

  He uncapped the jar and held it out to me.

  “If it’s what you’re looking for, you’ll have to come get what you want for the whole box.”

  He nodded to my yet untouched supplies.

  I took the jar and sniffed. The smell of alcohol was so strong it tickled the back of my throat and made me cough.

  “Rubbing alcohol?” I asked.

  “No, that stuff would kill you.” He glanced around and leaned in close. “It’s moonshine.”

  Liquid gold as far as I was concerned.

  I lifted the jar to my lips and took a drink. It burned in the best way. I coughed lightly again then finished my sample.

  “That’s good. How much do you have?”

  He looked around.

  “Take a break and walk with me. We’ll talk where it’s quieter.�
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  I nodded thoughtfully.

  “Fine. But the supplies stay here for now.”

  “Deal.”

  I looked at my neighbor.

  “Watch after my stuff, will you? And don’t trade it. I know what I have.”

  He gave me a pissed off look. I wasn’t worried. He was from Tolerance, which meant he was a rule follower. My supplies would be safe enough with him.

  I waited until my new friend and I left the crowds behind to speak.

  “How many of those jars do you have?” I asked.

  “Enough to make this little walk worth your while,” he said. “This moonshine is stronger than most anything you’d find in a bottle. Four jars this size,” he held up the empty pint sample jar, “would equal one of those big economy bottles.”

  “Sounds like you’re trying to negotiate low,” I said. “Moonshine doesn’t have much value. Food does. You’re going to need to do better than four pints. I could easily trade what I have for eight quarts.”

  “If you could find the people with it. People who had liquor already drank it and are too afraid to go find more. And if they did leave, it wouldn’t be to find a drink; it would be to find food.”

  “You haven’t answered my original question.”

  “I have twelve quarts. But I’m not trading eight. Just like you know what you have, I know what I have. Supply and demand, sugar. We both have what the other wants, so let’s try to keep it fair. Build a partnership if you will.”

  He was right. I needed to think long term. It was better to trade for a small batch, in case it was taken from me again, than a large one.

  “If I settle lower, I need to know that you’ll save the rest for me on the next trade.”

  He smiled and motioned to a nearby house.

  “Let’s step inside and negotiate.”

  A weird feeling tickled my stomach. I didn’t like the way he was looking at me, all smug. He reminded me too much of Merdon. But this asshole was willing to give me a drink; the other one only took my drinks away.

  “After you,” I said.

  I followed him into the house. It was toasty warm and very quiet. My nerves kicked up again, despite the moonshine already warming my belly.

  He went straight to the kitchen, stepping around some supply boxes stacked on the floor, and opened a cupboard.

  I spared the supplies a quick glance. He already had a lot of food. Why was he interested in my supplies? Not my problem or concern, I decided. If he wanted to trade and was willing to give up some of his moonshine, that was fine with me.

  He turned to me with two, quart-sized jars in his hands.

  “My housemates are out right now. But only for a little while. We need to hurry this up.”

  “Does that mean the moonshine isn’t yours?” I asked, tearing my gaze from the boxes.

  “It’s partly mine. The part I’m trading with you.” He winked.

  What did I care if it wasn’t his? He was giving it to me and getting something in return. By the time his housemates caught on, hopefully, I’d be long gone. Or, at the very least, long drunk.

  “I need to sample both,” I said. “I won’t be tricked with water.”

  “Then we have a deal with two quarts?”

  “We have a deal as long as you find a way to save the rest and agree only to trade them to me.”

  He smiled and uncapped both jars.

  “Drink up, sugar.”

  I lifted the first jar to my lips and took two swallows. It was just as strong as the sample and burned its way down to my stomach. I took a slow, calming breath, already feeling it mute some of the emotions that had been clinging to me since I woke. Taking the second jar from him, I repeated the process.

  He took a seat at the table while he waited.

  “I’ve never seen a girl who drinks her shine as neat as you,” he commented. “You’re not new to it, are you?”

  I flashed him my thousand-watt smile just because I felt like it and sank into a kitchen chair.

  “I’ve been known to drink from time to time,” I said.

  Rather than capping the jar, I took another sip. The mellow was already setting in, weighing down my arms and legs in that pleasant way I’d come to love.

  “What’s your drink of choice?” he asked.

  “There was this one bottle of cognac that was really good. Wouldn’t mind more of that.”

  He laughed.

  “You have expensive taste. I’m surprised you like the moonshine.”

  I shrugged lightly.

  “It does the job.”

  “And what job’s that?”

  “Numbs the memories.” Just saying it brought them back, and I took a longer drink, desperate to drown the pain.

  “Sounds like you need some new memories. What’s your name?”

  “Hannah.” I exhaled slowly, really feeling the moonshine kick in. The room even gave a little spin.

  “Drink up, Hannah. You’ll do just fine.”

  He was right. I would now that I had something to help. I took another drink, no longer feeling the burn.

  “Do you have anyone who’ll miss you, Hannah?”

  I blinked at him. He didn’t seem like Merdon now. He seemed nicer. Kinder. He’d given me moonshine, and when he asked about my people, it was in a simple, not so hurtful way.

  “No. Everyone who’d miss me is already gone.”

  I heard the way my words slurred and didn’t even care. I had a few hours before I’d be missed, and I planned to make the most of them.

  With a smile at my host, I drank some more.

  Bliss came in different forms for different people. Not many would call a screaming headache and a mouthful of ass-taste bliss, but it was pretty close for me. So was the fact that I couldn’t remember anything after drinking from the man’s jar. Not even his name.

  I lifted my head, expecting to see a strange room. When I didn’t, the familiar view of my own curtains confused me. I could have sworn I’d been in Tenacity.

  A sinking feeling settled into my soul.

  Where was my moonshine?

  “Are you hurt?”

  Emily had to repeat the question to gain my attention.

  “Yep. My head. How did I get here?”

  More importantly, where were my jars?

  “I mean, did they hurt you?”

  I frowned through the throbbing in my skull and tried to focus on Emily. She had the chair near the bed for some reason.

  “Did who hurt me?”

  Her expression, which was already sad, notched up the pity a few degrees.

  “The men who kidnapped you.”

  I laughed, not a full out laugh—that would have hurt too much—but enough for Emily to know I didn’t believe her. This headache needed to go. Sitting up a little, I looked around my room hopefully. Maybe someone had brought the jars with me.

  “It’s true,” Emily said. “It was the same group who had Brenna and Eden.”

  My head just wasn’t keeping up with her conversation. I needed a drink.

  “Hannah,” Emily said sternly. “Look at me.”

  I stopped scanning the room and focused on her.

  “What?”

  “You were kidnapped by rapists. Are you hurt?”

  “If you’re asking me if my cooter is sore, the answer is no, Mom. No unexpected pregnancies to inconvenience your future. Where are my supplies? I made a fair trade at Tenacity and want my jars.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t help you, Hannah,” she said softly. “I tried.” She reached out and gave my hand a quick squeeze. “There’s someone here to see you.”

  She walked out of the room, leaving the door open behind her.

  Before I could get up to search for something to drink, Merdon strode in.

  “Get out of bed.”

  His harsh tone and the way he stood over me grated on my last hungover nerve.

  “Get the fuck out of my room, Merdon.”

  He leaned in close, bracing his
hands on the mattress on either side of me.

  “You smell worse than a cow,” he growled at me. “Go shower.”

  “Piss off.”

  The blankets covering me abruptly disappeared. A moment later, I was over his shoulder, and he was striding across the room. It happened so fast that I didn’t even have a chance to think about kicking him or screaming. Then, I was on my feet again in the bathroom.

  “Shower,” he said, shoving me toward the tiled enclosure.

  “Back the fuck off,” I said, pushing away his hands.

  He was like a damn octopus, though. Hands everywhere, nudging me into the shower whether I wanted to go there or not.

  I swore up a storm, calling him every vile thing I could think of. He didn’t flinch at all. Or stop. Once I stood in the shower, I swung at his head. He caught my fist and reached around me.

  Cold water blasted me.

  “Mother fucker!”

  He slammed the shower door shut and leaned his back against it.

  “Bathe, Hannah.”

  Knowing full well Merdon would only turn it back on if I turned it off, I beat my fists against the glass until the water started to warm. Then, with a snarl, I stripped off my wet clothes. With satisfaction, I pushed the sopping wad over the top and watched it tumble over his head and shoulders.

  He flicked it to the ground, unperturbed at the water now soaking his hair and shirt, and glanced back at me.

  “Wash, Hannah. It will be more pleasant while the water is warm.”

  I slowly lifted my middle finger.

  “Do you know what this means?” I all but snarled. “Go screw yourself, caveman, and crawl back under the rock you came from.”

  His lip curled in a small sardonic smile.

  “If you would rather wait for the water to run cold again, that is your choice. I am a patient man.”

  He resumed his comfortable position, facing away from me, and I spit out every vile name I could come up with. Then, I washed.