Page 27 of Mated By the Pack
Jace just asked Gideon’s opinion, and now he’s following him. Is this some kind of natural hierarchy emerging because of… her? Knox isn’t brought in, but he begrudgingly joins us. I’m not surewhat Caleb thinks anymore. He’s just a brick wall who barely speaks.
It’s a long way from The Outpost to the den and they move slowly. We run into a pair of Gen-Hens, but easily dispatch them. They eat everything in their path, so they were too dangerous to leave unchecked. Slowly, but surely, Calla and her misfits cross a stretch of The Tangle. Probably the longest stretch any humans have walked without encountering a predator. They wisely choose to stop for the night when they reach a clearing.
“This is like babysitting puppies,” Knox groans as he shifts and sits down.
“Your puppies?” I joke, sitting beside him.
“Fuck you,” Knox grumbles. “You know what I meant.”
“It’s more like herding, if you think about it,” Jace chuckles. “We do that to prey sometimes. Now we’re just killing the predators and protecting the prey.”
“Like sheepdogs,” Knox mutters.
“We did well today,” Gideon says. “No one got hurt and Calla is safe.”
“Until that fucking Gen-Lion, if he shows up,” Knox says. “If we take Calla now, we’ll get her there faster. Let the other four deal with the Gen-Lion.”
“That’s the safest plan,” Gideon agrees. “I doubt the Gen-Lion would go looking for the last one, if he finds them. He’ll assume The Tangle got her.”
“No,” I say, feeling a twinge when I disagree with him. “They’re important to Calla. She risked her life to save them. One of them is hurt, and she didn’t leave her behind.”
“Fuck it,” Jace says. “At least we’ll always have a fresh meal out here. It’s good not to be cooped up in the den all the time except when we hunt.”
Caleb remains silent. Gideon looks down like he’s considering it, then raises his head and I see a flicker in his eyes.
“Vance is right. We take them all to the den,” Gideon growls.
Nobody argues. Knox doesn’t even lodge a protest while begrudgingly agreeing because the rest of us agree. Well, all of us except the one who rarely speaks. He sided with Knox earlier but doesn’t have a word to offer now.
“We should rest,” Gideon says.
“I’ll take first watch,” I offer, moving closer to the perimeter of our camp—in the direction that gives me the best view of the one we’re watching.
Gideon looks like he wants to object, but he doesn’t. He nods, flashes a faint smile, and moves closer to the area we set aside for sleeping.
We don’t really need to keep watch. It’s part of our military training. When we sleep, we’re always alert. During the day at the den, we nap more than we sleep. Most of us will be up periodically throughout the night, regardless of who keeps watch.
I’m going first, because I want to get closer to Calla’s camp. I want to check on them and make sure they’re okay. They’re probably hungry by now. Eventually, they’ll get desperateenough to try one of the berries or fruits that adorn parts of The Tangle. We’ll need to direct them near food and water that won’t kill them tomorrow.
I shift from wolf to man once I’m close to Calla’s camp. They’re all huddled together for warmth and comfort. The runt looks like she’s been through hell. Nara, the one who is injured, is not getting any better. She may not make it to the den. I could treat her—but I’d probably scare them to death. If I was in their position, I’d be pretty scared if a giant, naked, mossy-haired savage walked into my camp. That could send them running in every direction.
Calla’s bracelet seems to hum like The Tangle. Like it’s still connected, even though she severed it from the root. I’ve never seen a vine do that. It looks similar to spikeshade, but spikeshade burns through human flesh and consumes it. It can hurt us, too, but it takes a lot longer.
Whatever Calla is, she’s not a normal human, even if she looks like one. She’s completely immune to the vine. Not just immune, but it responds to her. If she’s meant to be our mate, it means we’re connected to The Tangle, too. I’ve always suspected it, but my brothers don’t believe me—the ones still alive, at least. They believe science is responsible for everything.
The scientists may have started the process, but something happened to us after the solar flare. During the heat storms. When The Tangle first began to rise from the ground, everyone believed was too damaged by the sun for anything to grow. The Tangle not only grew, but flourished.
“Calla…” I whisper. Her name on my tongue feels like the sweetest word I’ve ever spoken. “What are you? Are you really the answer?”
The scientists learned early in their experiments that the children of hybrids exhibited different traits from their parents, but the human side of hybrids made mating difficult. Fertility issues were rising across the globe, and hybrids were no exception. Not only did the scientists have natural infertility to overcome, but the process for creating hybrids also did significant damage to the reproductive system.
“Tansy, do you feel like taking second watch?” Calla asks, gently nudging the young woman next to Nara.
“O-okay, Calla,” Tansy whispers, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.
Tansy gets up and walks around, probably to get the sleep out of her system. After a few minutes, she sits down beside a rock and starts crying. Her sadness echoes through The Tangle and I hear it whisper back, but Tansy doesn’t seem to notice.
“The Tangle loves grief,” I sigh, feeling a twinge of sympathy for the girl.
