Barren Sky: The Forsaken Trilogy Book 3 by J. Thorn

Author:J. Thorn [Thorn, J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thorn Publishing LLC
Published: 2024-02-06T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

She ran.

The cold dawn opened its arms and drew her into its silent, deadly embrace. Dia sprinted down sidewalks and through intersections while plastic bags floated on the wind like disembodied spirits. She went east, then west, then east again. The wind swept a fine, salty mist off the bay that made her shiver despite sweating.

I might have killed him.

She couldn’t get that thought out of her mind no matter how fast she ran or how far she made it from the place where Lane had died so that she could live. He’d pleaded with her not to go into the ruins. Lane had known the risk was high and the reward low, and yet she had insisted.

“Trust me. I know ruins,” she’d said.

So many questions, and no answers. What was that weapon he’d had and how had it been able to do so much damage from such a tiny form? Had he taken all the hunters with him? Had Feto died, too? Did he deserve such a fate? The boy had seemed to want to give them a chance, but then again, maybe he simply enjoyed the hunt more than the kill.

Dia had to stop, as her lungs were burning, and her thighs were numb. She felt new blisters on her heels and realized she hadn’t had any water for hours. Worse yet, she had sensed nothing pure anywhere in these ruins. She’d been running through them for hours, and yet she’d had not a single glimmer. For the first time since she’d come through the Sierra Nevadas, she understood how desperate things were here. In Erehwon, they’d been able to count on the rain. It would come at some point, and if it didn’t, the snow that fell throughout the winter could be melted. But here, with what seemed to be sporadic and localized storms, the people would die without a way to clean what little water they had—Rangers and Los Muertos alike. Life didn’t take sides with either of those two clans.

She sat on the hood of a car in the middle of an intersection that looked just like all the others. From there, Dia looked around, trying to get her bearings, but she was still breathing too fast from running, so she hung her head and waited. The wind howled through the steel canyons and the clouds obscured the rising sun.

A scraping?

Dia heard something. But in the ruins, the ghosts whispered. Wires, pipes, raccoons, rats. Any of these things could be responsible for the sound.

And so could the cannibals.

Pushing the hair from her face, Dia stood up on the car and looked around. In the distance and in the hills, she could see the sparkle of campfires at Albion Castle like stars in a distant galaxy.

Seven? Eight miles away?

The distance was difficult to calculate because she hadn’t run in a straight line. And unlike the ruins of Cleveland or Chicago, these sat nestled within a series of hills. Running down was just as strenuous as running up, and she knew she’d be doing both to get back to the castle.

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