Wonderland (Deadly Lush Book 2) Read online

  This new theory, of course, was in direct contradiction to Jayx paining an X over her heart, telling her the only way to become ferocious enough was to block out all practice of compassion.

  She refrained from bringing it up when Jayx came to see how they were faring. He was adjusting a leather gauntlet around his forearm, looking even more fierce than usual.

  He surveyed their progress. “Are they functional?”

  “I think we've found something workable,” Alex confirmed.

  “Good. Strap one on me. I'll take it to the jungle for a test run.”

  Seizing another one from the pile, Shiloh went through the motions of binding it to him, giving it a final slap against his muscular chest. He met her eyes as she did so, and for a moment she thought she could feel the pulse of the device giving off its tone. That, of course, was not likely the case. It was some other pulse she felt, then.

  Felt, or imagined.

  She realized suddenly that she was still gazing into his eyes, her palm on his chest. Only for a moment, but that moment stretched out just too long. Heat flushed her neck.

  She dismissed it as excitement over the brewing mission; anticipation of the impending action.

  They were about to make a stand for the island. Charge headlong into the predators' nest.

  It was debatable whether they were ready to face the Tribal, but the beauty of the advantage given by the Pulsers was that they didn't have to be. If they’d been banking on the element of surprise to do whatever damage they could, they now felt confident they could wreak some serious havoc, and come away unscathed.

  “Go scare off some monsters,” she bade, and consciously put her arm back at her side where it belonged.

  Jayx took the dinghy – hopped out onto the mother-of-pearl shore, circumnavigated the traps and opened the gate, and loped without ceremony into the maw of the heavy willows.

  He returned more than an hour later, glistening with sweat.

  “Did it work?” Ophelia drilled keenly.

  Jayx’s panting grin was answer enough.

  Yes. Shiloh followed him to the waterskins, where he drank ravenously. “What did you do, exactly?”

  Jayx caught his breath after a long gulp. “I just tracked a leopard. Chased him until neither of us could run anymore.”

  “And you're sure he wasn't just afraid of you?” Shiloh teased.

  “I'm flattered you find me so intimidating.”

  “I'd feel better if someone more run-of-the-mill tested it, too,” Ophelia said, sidling up from where she’d been coyly eavesdropping on the exchange. “Someone who doesn’t already ooze kingly primal confidence like the stud of the jungle.”

  Well, I'm sure he's extra flattered now, Ophelia, Shiloh thought dryly. Stud of the jungle… Kingly primal confidence… Puh. And wouldn’t you like to be his queen.

  It wasn’t the first time Shiloh had pegged the other girl’s suggestive motives or caught her pulling some cute little stunt to cozy up to Jayx. They’d all hardly been introduced before Ophelia was stripping near-naked in the river – which Jayx led them to for the purpose of cleansing Shiloh’s wounds – and the most recent episode had included Ophelia play-acting that she didn’t think she was holding her staff right, and soliciting Jayx’s rather intimate instruction that required he envelope her in his arms from behind and adjust her hands on the shaft…

  And now she was touching his glistening arm, rubbing a patch of slick sweat between her fingers. “Pretty sure this isn’t even sweat. More like molten gold.”

  It was all Shiloh could do not to roll her eyes. “Yes, well, he may sweat molten gold, but he still bleeds red like the rest of us. So if you’re done worshiping his pores, maybe we can stay focused on the group effort to save all of our skins.”

  The look Ophelia cast her direction spoke volumes. You have something you want to say to me? it challenged. And while Shiloh had to battle the ludicrous urge to bare a territorial snarl at the pasty blonde, she opted to stare coolly back instead.

  If Jayx was aware of the other girl’s subtle flirtations, or the silent face-off going on between both girls, he made no indication. “Make sure they’re all charged up,” he instructed as he unfastened the Pulser from his body. “We’ll do another test run as a group tomorrow. Then we’ll go over the details of our first raid.”

  9 – The Next Queen of Savages

  Under the chilling cowl of dawn, a macabre makeover transformed the meager band of refugees into a bristling conclave of rebels. It started with war paint – all of them decorating their bodies with slashes and symbols and edgy primal garnishes – and ended with each member strapping one of the pulsing metal devices to his chest. A startling combination of primitive and futuristic, they rallied for the daring mission that finally loomed before them.

  Aside from her generous array of indigo claw marks and intensified, smoky eyes, Shiloh added one last touch to her transformation: the horned headdress from the Tribal figure she had already cut down. A fateful statement if ever there was one.

  The night before, they’d decided to bequeath a name to their resistance, and after a few rounds of suggestions they had voted in ‘the Convergence’ as the official title of their motion, a tribute to the diverse lineup of members ‘converging’ from all corners of the earth to amass at the hub that was Paradise.

  “We are thinking of the Pulsers as our secret weapon,” Jayx prepped the group before setting off into the jungle. “But they are really only our key in. Our armor once we're there. It still must be somebody's blade, or spear, or bare hands that finishes the job we are going there to do. How many of you have killed before?”

  It wasn't the whole group of refugees that he addressed. For one thing, there were only ten Pulsers, total. And while all of them were more than willing to participate in survival training, the same could not be said about everyone's eagerness to traipse into the jungle and raid the enemy's den, secret weapon or no. Some of them were still getting used to the idea that Paradise wasn't what they thought it was, and still wrapping their minds around this vicious enemy they had only heard tell about. Shiloh had to wonder what they envisioned, if their impression of the Tribal was accurate, blown out of proportion, or, worse, if any of them underestimated what they were up against.

  Those on the list of game team members that Jayx had recruited included: Shiloh, Alex, Ophelia, Sol, Tace, Darshan, and Galen. Lysander had opted to retain his status as one the Tribal were excluding from their hit list, and Farah had little hope of joining the raid regardless, thanks to the Pulsers having a painful effect on her animal side similar to what everyone hoped the Tribal would experience when the refugees struck.

  So Jayx outfitted his team of seven with Pulsers, took one for himself, and the last two went to Zack and Starliss.

  How many of you have killed before? Despite all of them hailing from corrupt shores where the concept was a common necessary evil, neither Alex nor Sol raised their hands along with the rest. For some reason, Shiloh was surprised. She’d just thought it was the kind of thing everyone faced as a rite of passage, sooner or later. If you lived to young-adult age, chances were you’d had to fight someone to get there. But somehow, Alex and Sol had avoided that eventuality.

  “For those of you who haven't,” Jayx continued, “I'm sure I can count on the fact that you've known there might come a day when you’d have to. Today is that day.”

  For those who hadn't seen Mother Eve first-hand, which was everyone except Jayx and Shiloh, a detailed description was given.

  “The Tribal Queen is our prime objective. She is the last remaining First-Generation, and has become their queen figure because of the superior intelligence and finesse she retains. By eliminating her, we are hoping to accomplish two main goals. One; to halt the conveyor-belt of quarry being lured to their deaths, because she is the only one with the eloquence and literacy to forge the poetic temptations in the memos she sends across the ocean. And two; to sever the intelligent figurehead keeping the T
ribal organized, so that without proper guidance they will self-destruct into a scattered, manageable foe.

  “However, if you cannot pinpoint Mother Eve as a target, don’t discriminate. If we’re going to strike, we want to do as much damage as possible, and second to taking out their chieftess, the best way to do that is take advantage while we have the element of surprise. Because, rest assured, this strike will start a war. Hopefully one not organized by the likes of the Mother, but a war either way. And for all our sakes, we want to do what we can to ensure any moves they make after today, they make with less manpower. We must wound their numbers while they are caught off-guard. Once they know we employ Pulsers as our secret weapon, they will find a way around them.”

  “Can't we just kill them all?” Ophelia asked, and Shiloh felt a flicker of surprise at the unflinching suggestion. It would seem Shiloh was not the only one well on her way to becoming properly brutal. For some reason, despite it meaning Jayx's tutelage was working, she found herself quietly disturbed.

  “I believe you underestimate how many of them there are,” Jayx said. “It was a colony that came here to develop Paradise. Not a quaint band of visionary hermits.”

  Here Shiloh had been wondering about the others underestimating the Tribal, and Jayx's words made her wonder, for the first time, just how many of them there actually were.

  “And they are never all just sitting quietly in their camp, twiddling their boorish thumbs,” Jayx added. “There are any number of them out hunting, all the time. And it is my suspicion, Ophelia, that you will grow averse to the task, or at the very least tire physically from the killing, before you have plowed through a dozen bodies. By those numbers, chances are by the end you will have encountered the women and children. And your humanity.”

  Shiloh's gut clenched. As she should have expected, this was becoming far more real than she had prepared herself for. Where was the keen writhing of the hatchling beast inside her now? The readiness to taste blood? To fight for a home and a future, no matter what it took?

  How can we charge in there and kill the women and children? Just like that?

  It has always been a woman that was your target, Shiloh.

  There. There it was. The voice of darker reasoning.

  Or was that merely logic either way?

  Her heart thumped harder in her chest, a muffled, splattering thud. It was like an allusion to the gore she was about to spill. She swallowed a rising of bile, not sure she was ready for this after all. But this was what she had been gearing up for, what she had pushed Jayx to ready them for, what she had anticipated without blanching up until this moment.

  Now is not the time. Pull yourself together.

  “I've instructed you all on the most efficient ways to maim and kill,” Jayx continued. “Use that knowledge for this strike. It's a few hours' hike to the Tribal encampment; any questions or concerns you have, I advise you come forward and voice them before we reach our destination.”

  The group dispersed for final preparations. Shiloh went to the rail, leaned on it head-in-hands to compose herself. Down below, the lacy water curled and lapped against the hull of the Dauntless; a pot of nauseous swirls. She thought she might be sick.

  “You look pale,” Jayx's voice broke into her ill bubble. He had followed her to the rail, evidently noticing her state. Had she been that obvious? Or did he just know how to spot cold feet?

  “I'm fine,” she lied, trying to play it off as nothing. But as she straightened, her stomach lurched. “Just seasick, or...oh, hell, maybe just spineless,” she admitted, realizing there was no sense in denying it.

  “What bothers you the most?”

  What did bother her the most? What had changed since before, when she felt ready and able and unflinching? “What Ophelia said,” she identified. “About killing them all.” Getting a handle on her stomach, she glanced over her shoulder at the man ready to lead them into battle. “She didn't even flinch. I know we have to become brutal, to stand a chance; hell, it’s what I’ve been doing. But was it really so easy to get to that point? To become that far gone? Already?”

  She looked back out to sea, gaze going absent. “What is it going to be like inside my head, when my first instinct is to charge in and cut a whole colony to ribbons, like it's the most obvious tactical move in the world...? I was eager enough to slay myself a trophy, but all of them? The women and children?”

  Jayx let her get it all out, observing her conflict. Then he moved forward, joining her at the rail. She heard him breathe in, the sound like a summer breeze pooling in a peaceful valley.

  “There is a beast in all of us,” he said when he had composed himself. “A beast that can be harnessed for its ferocity or its wickedness. They are not the same thing.”

  She eyed him, struggling with a last-ditch resistance to the idea. “Women and children are women and children.”

  “All of them monsters.”

  She gave a bitter laugh. “And to think, I once drilled you to see if your loyalty to them would be a problem for our cause.”

  “Can you accept what we’re about to do, or not?”

  “I just…I know you said it may be a necessary evil to sacrifice our own humanity and pass on the legacy to the children, but, I can’t help wondering… Will there be any room left for humanity in the aftermath of what we have to stoop to, or will Paradise always be the kind of place just handed off to the next Queen of Savages?”

  10 – Pulser Squad

  While Jayx may have understood her conflict, he evidently was not keen on nurturing another moment of vulnerability with her, when instead they were supposed to be putting on their game faces.

  “For me, it’s simple,” he proclaimed with a sense of finality. “The issue at hand is survival. They’ve made it impossible to coexist, so it’s us or them. I may fill a unique position in that I could have chosen either side, at one point… But as crudely as I was ever brought up, Shiloh, as jaded as I became during my wakeful hours, it never stopped the nightmares. My time amongst the Tribal was always a time of nightmares. But this – this resistance is a faction of dreams. It was easier than you might think to make my choice.”

  As he turned away, he offered one last morsel of encouragement: “Remember – they’ve crossed a line worse than we ever will. You may find yourself the next Queen of Savages, but you will never be them.”

  With that, he left her to get a grip on her emotions.

  They were about as difficult to wrestle as the Tribal man she had grappled with in the jungle – and may very well be the death of her, in the end – but by the time the group lined up to leave she had every well-intentioned spark of doubt pinned down somewhere deep inside her where nobody would hear its cries.

  With a half-hysterical, shuddering deep breath, Shiloh fell in line with the others, and the Convergence marched on the island.

  *

  During the trek to the Tribal's camp, Shiloh had to do something to distract her restless energy, and so she drilled Jayx about the savages.

  “When I fought the Tribal scout, he became…rabid,” she began, stepping high over lush green sprays as they tromped through the jungle. “Something changed when he engaged me, like he gave himself over to the beast, or it possessed him for the fight. Help me understand their temperament – how exactly the animal bloodlust comes into play. Is it unpredictable? Something they control?”

  “Some of both. An inescapable possession that can take hold without warning when provoked, but that they’ve also learned to call upon when desired.”

  “You’ve said they know what they are, and how they became what they are. That they tell stories of it like any other folklore. But I just can’t get past…how they must reconcile the two, to themselves. They just accept that their once distinguished selves were turned into bloodthirsty beasts, just because the craving is there? 'Once we were great scientists, revolutionary in our field, and now we've degraded to eating people; it's just the way of the new world'?”

  J
ayx held aside a bow of blue plumb-like fruit, letting her duck under first. “I'm sure there was some conflict, in the beginning,” he said. “Some internal struggle. But it would be like...having a split personality, I suppose. Part of the time you're going about your business as usual, and then something triggers the other side to kick in, and it takes over, and when it's done you go back to the other disposition, not fully aware of the transition, or what your other side did while in control.”

  “So the two are or aren’t intertwined?”

  Inclining his head thoughtfully to the side, Jayx deviated their course to skirt a thorny nest of wild roses. “They are and they aren’t. More so now, because they've allowed the primal side to develop over generations, embracing a rugged life of survival in a primitive setting, and the like. But in the beginning...well, perhaps 'going about business as usual' wasn't the right scenario to liken their retained humanity to. There was probably confusion. Glitches they tried to shake off. But the point is they weren't overcome by the predatory infection every second of every day. It would kick in when they were hungry, or when they locked sight on a creature of prey, and sporadically too, but not always. When it wasn't there, they thought with more normal clarity, and when it kicked in it was overbearing. So it wasn't so much a struggle to reconcile the two, all the time. It was gradually accepting that there was a second sentience that could take them over at a moment's notice, and when it did there was no fighting it, because it was a switch: sudden and complete. So, in their moments of clarity, they came to justify that which they knew was an irrevocable counterpart. When something becomes irrevocable, it is not so hard to justify. It wasn't a stretch for the scientists to take what had been an accident and say: there is no such thing as accidents. Only the universe correcting itself. Only evolution ascending to its rightful place. And the fantasists, that this must merely be their destiny.”