Guide to Surviving, chapters 9 and 10 (Patreon)

Chapter Nine--unposted

Stella was trying and spectacularly failing to read a chapter when Alicia sat bolt upright on the other bed.

“What?”

Alicia shot her a quick look and then vanished out the door, leaving Stella with a book in hand. After a second, Stella dropped the book and grabbed her sidearm. If the boys with the magic arrows had found them, she was going to put non-magical bullets in their asses. She climbed to the top of her treehouse and lay on her stomach, watching the ground below.

The day was still. Abnormally so. No birds called in the trees, which was a good indication that something was wandering around. Stella still hadn't seen anyone before Alicia dropped out of the trees and landed with a loud thump. Instantly, someone leapt into the clearing underneath the tree house and fell into a crouch, one hand on the ground.

Stella recognized the young man from the Scrappy family. He had his one hand raised in a defensive pose, and even from the safety of the treehouse, Stella could see the wickedly long nails protruding from his fingers. Apparently, werewolves were more common than Stella had thought. Actually, that made sense because werewolfism seemed like the kind of thing that would have inspired some prejudice, especially before the whole apocalypse had rearranged people’s values.

“What do you want?” Alicia demanded.

The young man slowly straightened and shook out his arms so that his claws vanished. “I came to ask you about the people who shot arrows at your friend.”

Alicia didn’t look up, but she did angle her body so she was between the guy and the Stella’s tree. “And why should we tell you anything?”

He gave her an incredulous look. “Because magic users are dangerous. If there's one in this territory, then none of us are safe.” He had a no-duh tone of voice going, and Alicia bent her elbows so she looked about ready to leap on him.

“If magic users are so unsafe, doesn't that apply to Sally as well?” Alicia demanded.

The guy backed away. He might have retracted his claws, but hers were front and center.

“Sally's older,” he explained. “She doesn't have the raw power that this new guy does. That's why I need your help to know what direction his group came from. I don’t have time to blindly search the woods.”

Stella grabbed a rope and shimmied down before these two declared a blood vendetta against each other. Well, Alicia would anyway. The guy looked more worried than homicidal, but still, Stella wanted to prevent open warfare. Killing members of another group might not be a great way to start an alliance.

Stella landed right behind Alicia. “Let's all be civil. I'm Stella, and this is Alicia. Welcome to our humble abode.” Stella tried to keep her voice friendly, but even she could hear the low growl from Alicia. That didn’t exactly sound friendly.

The guy took another step backwards and studied them for a moment before he focused his gaze on Stella. “Yeah, you introduced yourselves back at the compound. I'm Chad. Where was this other group that shot you?”

Either this guy sucked at making conversation or werewolves were antisocial dicks. That was possible. “Why do you want to find them?” Stella might hate her brother with the passion of a thousand burning suns, with at least three of them going supernova. However, she didn’t want to help someone kill him. That felt too much like what he would do. What he had done.

Chad scowled, or he tried to anyway. He didn’t have the face for it. He had an angelic look, one of those fat baby angels that get painted on stuff that grandmothers always buy. He was blonde with a round face and blue eyes and an almost palpable innocence that didn't match the wicked claws she had seen seconds ago. “If this group has a magic user, they are a greater danger than all of the zombies in town combined. We have kids in that compound, so it's important that we take care of any danger as far away from home base as possible.”

“So you're out here to play executioner.” Alicia looked him up and down. “You're not a wolf. I can smell that. What are you?”

“That's not any of your business.”

“And Stella’s hunting grounds are not yours,” Alicia snapped back. Yep, this was going great. And here Stella had thought high school dances had been the epitome of social awkwardness. Apparently not.

Chad scoffed. “If she can’t go there without getting shot with magic arrows, the hunting grounds aren't hers. Point me in a direction, and I'll take care of the problem for you.”

Alicia flexed her hands, and Stella grabbed her arm. Yeah, she was being a manipulative shit because she had a pretty good idea that Alicia considered her pack and wouldn’t physically knock Stella down to get at this guy, but if Stella needed to manipulate to prevent open warfare, she would. “They aren't anywhere near here, so you and your group are safe. Go home,” Stella said.

“No. I am not going to leave that kind of danger at our backs.”

“Tough shit. She told you to leave,” Alicia said in a voice thick with disdain. She subtly tried to pull her arm free, but Stella clung to her.

“It's not in my nature to ignore danger on my territory any more than it's in your nature to turn on your pack, as small as your pack seems to be right now.” His gaze flicked toward Stella. “But if you leave the danger out there, then you are putting your pack in danger. You're risking that the people who shot Stella will shoot her again.” He crossed his arms. “I don't think your instincts are gonna let that happen anymore than my instincts are going to leave an enemy on my territory unchallenged.”

“Instincts, huh? Maybe if you tell me what kind of shifter you are, I might be able to decide whether I believe you are not.”

Chad was silent for a long time. Finally he said, “Cat shifter.”

Alicia sucked air through her teeth, but she didn't comment.

“What does that mean? Is there something special about cat shifters?” Stella asked.

“We’re territorial. Cats don't share with each other, and I'm not going to share my territory with a magic user,” Chad explained. Despite his baby-face, he looked angry.

Alicia finally ripped her arm free of Stella’s hold and stepped forward, putting herself in Chad’s path. “If you try to drive us off this land, I'll spill your guts in the dirt.”

“Whoa! Hey!” Stella shouted. She tried to get around Alicia, but Alicia shoved her back forcefully enough to almost knock her to the ground. As the breakable human, Stella didn’t much appreciate the manhandling.

Chad held his arms out to his sides, his palms showing. “I'm not challenging you and yours. Stella came to us for help when she was hurt, and Sally took her in. That means that at the very least I don't feel an instinctive need to fight you. But I can't have enemies on my territory. And even if I tried to ignore my instincts and go home right now, Sally would not appreciate me shirking my duties.”

Something about the way he said duties made the hair on Stella’s arms stand on end. “What duties?”

He didn’t break his staring contest with Alicia as he answered. “I just explained my duties. I protect our territory. That's the whole reason she took in a cat shifter. We aren't exactly known as people pleasers and pleasant to live with in cramped quarters. But we do defend our territories.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Alicia said, “but cat shifters are also loners. My parents said that once they had the ceremony inviting a cat spirit to touch one of their children, they wouldn’t even allow their children to stay nearby. They talked about the cat-touched as one step removed from feral.”

“That’s a lovely stereotype, wolf,” Chad practically snarled. “My mother always said wolves were stupid. They stuck to groups and behaviors that were so easy to spot that anyone could hunt a werewolf. In fact, what do they call specist humans who hope to destroy the touched? Oh yes. Those are called werewolf hunters because your kind are the only ones idiotic enough to be found.”

Alicia growled, and Stella threw herself on Alicia, knocking them both to the side. One second Stella had her arms around Alicia’s waist and the next she was clinging to an enormous wolf with a less-than-impressed expression. Chad leaped for a tree, catching a lower branch and swinging effortlessly up into the foliage with the grace of an Olympian. Alicia broke free of Stella’s hold and paced between the base of the tree and Stella.

“You two are stereotypes,” Stella muttered. Cats and dogs. Stupid cats and overreacting dogs. And unless she did something to separate them, the situation would get worse. She sent up a silent apology to Jordan, but he had brought this on himself. And hopefully distance was still in his favor. After all, it wasn’t like he’d pointed to Stella and told one of his guys to shoot her with a magic arrow. He probably assumed she’d gotten herself killed years ago. He’d shared their father’s weird belief that Stella was incapable of surviving just because she hated camping so much that she tended to self-sabotage. One little tent fire and a couple of tumbles in poison ivy and they’d both decided she was a menace to herself and everyone around her.

“Look.” Stella stood and brushed the dirt off her leg and butt. “The situation with those guys in the wood is complicated. I think they’re staying in a cabin about six miles north of here at a small lake off the old logging road. Even that hunting ground of mine they found would be pretty much the extreme limit of their territory. They're not going to come closer.”

Chad looked down at her. “Are you willing to risk all our lives on that?”

“I think you're being a little melodramatic.”

“I don't. And clearly the others don't think so either. Geoff and Kathy are out clearing zombies as fast as they safely can because the group is worried that if we have a conflict on home territory, the compound could get mobbed by zombies who came running to the sounds of fighting. And Sally sent me out here. She wouldn't do that if the threat weren't real.”

“I would think of the threat were real they would've sent more people with you,” Stella pointed out. The compound had a lot of fighters, and one cat shifter wouldn’t be a match for a whole compound of boys with a magic user. Hell, Alicia’s whole family had been shifters, and they’d still gotten wiped out by humans.

“I can travel fastest by myself. The others aren’t shifters. They have other jobs and other uses, but I'm the one who can move through the shadows quickly enough to kill without being seen.”

Alicia stopped near Stella and shifted back to human, including clothes. How did that work?

“Except that they have someone who is magic touched,” Alicia said, a slight growl still in her voice. “Those of us who are touched can usually sense each other, so the minute they know that there is someone touched by a spirit on their territory, they are all going to be searching for you.”

“They can search.” He grinned. “I'm better than any magic user could be. Even Sally couldn't take me in a fight, and she is the most devious magic-touched I have ever seen cast a spell. That's the reason why I agreed to join their group. Safety in numbers, and all. A young and inexperienced magic user is not going to have any chance against me.” Chad raised his hands and flicked his fingers so that claws erupted from each one.

“This is not a ragged group of survivors huddling in a basement together,” Stella warned. “This is not even a group trying to carve out something that resembles a decent standard of living in the middle of this hellhole. This is a trained militia with ammunition and automatic weaponry and apparently now a magic user. That is a lot of firepower for one cat shifter.”

“Aw. Are you worried about me?” Chad asked.

Stella narrowed her eyes. “I'm worried you're gonna get yourself killed and their group is going to think they have to retaliate for the attack. Our town is the only one around here, so this would be pretty much the logical place to come if someone is looking for revenge. If you start a war, we’re going to be in the middle of it.” Stella waggled her thumb between herself and Alicia.

“They’re not going to see me coming.”

“Typical cat arrogance,” Alicia said with disgust. Stella hated that a little part of her brain whispered that she might not be the best alliance in these woods. Alicia was loyal, and that deserved loyalty in return, not thoughts of how badly she was screwing up the first chance Stella had at something resembling a healthy life.

Chad scoffed. “And it's just like a dog to hole up and ignore the threat creeping through the tall grass.”

Alicia growled, and Chad's eyes shifted to yellow while his pupils elongated. Freaky.

When had Stella become the den mother charged with corralling cranky children? “Let’s make a deal. I’ll show you the edge of their territory. If they are staying in it, you back off and admit that a live and let live policy is best since that is also called an avoiding the people with automatic weaponry policy. If they are moving toward town, then we admit that we’re sticking our heads in the sand because we don’t want to fight, but that we probably have to.”

Alicia turned toward her, mouth open. “What? No. Absolutely not. You’re not going near them. Did you forget that you already got shot?”

“No, but you reacted to the guys in the woods before I knew they were there. Next time, warn me, and I’ll run like hell so you’re free to do whatever stealthy shifter-thing you need to do.”

“Werewolves are about as stealthy as your common German shepherd,” Chad said dryly as he dropped out of the tree. Alicia raised her middle finger in his direction. He smirked.

“This,” Stella waved a finger between the two of them, “has got to stop.”

“If you two stay here, the dog and I won’t be able to fight,” Chad countered.

“And you don’t know where their territory is, so you can’t know if they’re moving or not,” Stella pointed out. “Being shifters clearly doesn’t make you any smarter.” Stella didn’t wait for him to come up with a good comeback. She climbed her rope, feeling very awkward and slow now that she’d seen Chad navigate the branches. Maybe she was the clumsy human, but she was the clumsy human who had spent the last two years keeping an eye on her brother. They would have to listen to her or at least let her go with them on their spy mission. If spying turned to murder… that she would skip.

Chapter Ten--unposted

“So what is it like living at the compound?” Stella asked as they walked.

Chad shrugged, his gaze on the forest around them. “It's a lot better than living anywhere else.”

“Yeah, what's better about it?”

Both Chad and Alicia gave her odd looks. Stella wondered if that counted as progress at getting them to cooperate. “I have someone to share guard duty with,” Chad said. “Geoff didn't inherit much of his mother's magic, but he has this weird a talent for knowing if someone is paying attention to him. It makes it easy for him to spot anyone who might be showing too much interest in the compound.”

“Like zombies?”

Chad shrugged. “Not usually. Sally has a spell on the compound that means they don't pay us much attention. He’s more concerned about the group that works out of this high school.”

“Oh. The boys.” Stella worked hard to ignore them, especially because he had heard a few aborted screams from that direction, which explained why zombies were always thicker around the school, even after the Army cleared out and stopped using school bells to draw the zombies out for some quick beheadings.

“They aren’t all boys. Mostly it’s the boys who go out on scavenging or hunting details, though,” Chad said.

Stella almost stumbled, but Alicia got a hand under her elbow. Given that Alicia was walking so close that they could've won a three-legged race, that wasn't hard. However, they almost both fell when Chad stopped right in front of them. “I can smell something. Do you smell that?” He tilted his head toward the sky, and Alicia mimicked his gesture.

“What?” Stella asked.

Alicia sniffed the air again before catching Stella's hand in her own. “Stay here.”

Alicia tried to pull away, but Stella held onto her hand. “What do you smell? Some of us have human noses to go with our human faces.”

Alicia grimaced. “Gunpowder. Someone has a gun.” Her voice was distant—distracted. But then she shook her head and focused on Stella. “You should go back to the treehouse.”

“How about not,” Stella shot back. “I’m the tour guide.”

“And we can follow the smell of gunpowder without help.” Alicia tried to reclaim her hand again, but Stella was tenacious.

“I’m not leaving you two out here.”

Alicia grabbed Stella’s wrist. “If you're in the line of fire, that puts me in an unwinnable situation. You’re human. You can’t run as fast as we can.”

“But…” Stella clamped down on an urge to stamp her feet. Logically, Alicia and Chad were faster and had a better chance of getting out of trouble if she wasn’t around, but she still hated the idea of watching them run toward trouble while she turned tail. Maybe she didn’t look for trouble, but she also didn’t abandon people to it.

Chad had been sniffing the air, but he turned to them. “How far are we from this border your brother’s group respects?”

“It's not that there’s a border treaty.”

“Then what's the whole purpose of this trip? I thought you said there was a border that marked their territory.” Chad took a step closer.

“There is. There is a gorge that's hard to cross, and at the bottom are zombies who have run through the woods and tumbled to the bottom. Jordan’s group stays on the far side of the gorge because they want to stay close enough to their home base that they don't get cut off.”

Alicia frowned. “Was your deer hunt on this side of the gorge or on theirs?”

“Okay, that was on this side, but if they heard a gunshot, they had to know that someone was out here hunting. That would be worth coming across the gorge.”

Alicia opened her mouth and then closed it without saying anything. Chad asked, “Is there anything else you're not telling us about your brother’s group?”

Oh so much, but very little practical information. However, the trees might not be as safe as Chad assumed. Stella’s treehouse was courtesy of her father, and he had taught the boys to survive. “They have these climbing tents that connect a sleeping platform to the trunk of a tree. We always took them with us when we traveled so that if we were caught too far away from the shelter to get back, we could hide in the trees. Zombies can't climb.”

“You assume zombies can't climb,” Chad said.

“Well thank you very much for giving me more fodder for my nightmares. Have you ever seen a zombie climb? Anything?” Stella looked from one to the other.

Chad shook his head. “I’m not trying to give you nightmares. That said, most humans have never seen a cat-touched or wolf-touched individual, and we still exist. We shouldn't put all our faith into the assumption that the trees are safe.”

“The way you put all your faith in the assumption that Sally's magic can protect you?” Alicia asked with a saccharine smile. Chad shot her a look that could have stripped paint from the side of a barn, and Alicia’s smile just grew wider.

“You take the ground, I'm going to move through the trees.” Without another word, Chad launched himself into the trees and then leapt from one to another looking like a chimpanzee from a nature documentary.

“Something is not right,” Alicia grumbled.

“We’re living in the middle of an apocalypse. I assume there are a lot of things that are not right.”

Alicia rested her hand against the juncture where Stella's shoulder and neck met. The warmth soaked into her skin, and Stella was caught in Alicia’s gold-flecked and brown gaze. “I can't lose another pack,” she said, her tone confessional and low. “I wouldn't survive it. Please. Head back to the treehouse, and we’ll report back on what we find.”

“I don't want to leave you out here alone.” Something in Stella's stomach roiled at the thought. “You're not the only one who doesn't want to lose anyone else to this nightmare.”

“No, but you are the one who doesn't have claws to protect yourself.” Alicia lifted Stella’s hand and traced the lines on her palm. Her touch wandered to the pads of Stella’s fingers. “You're not hiding weapons in here. You can't call on the wolf in your soul. And humans are entirely too fragile. You know that.”

Stella knew that humans were too fragile when they were alone. Even in twos and threes, they didn't have the strength to confront a world that had become hostile to their very existence. But Stella wasn't helpless. “I’ve survived for two years without claws.”

“By not avoiding people like your brother. I'm asking you to continue doing that,” Alicia said.

Stella shook her head. “What if you and Chad need help?”

Alicia leaned closer and the warmth of her body soaked into Stella's skin. She was strong, and Stella had always admired strength. She coveted strength, but she also wanted to curl around Alicia and hide in the shadow of her power and pretend that she was safe. And that inspired more guilt than she knew how to handle. She had no right to expect someone else to take care of her. That's not the way the real world worked. In the real world, you took care of yourself, or you died. It really was that simple. Anything else was a stupid fantasy, and Stella had given up on fantasies.”

“We’re shifters. We’ll be fine. Just head back to the treehouse, and I’ll meet you there.”

“But…”

“But nothing. Either they took the deer and retreated back to their home base, in which case we won't see anyone or they are moving this direction. If the second is true, were going to have to face them eventually. And I promise that two shifters is more than a match for a group of humans, even if one is touched by magic.”

Stella frowned, caught in indecision in a way that she hadn't been in a long time. Maybe that's because she had lived the last couple of years without making decisions at all. She embraced a routine that allowed her to move from one day that the next, but that wasn't the same as choosing a path forward. That's what Alicia was asking her to do. But she didn't know how. Any decision she made would close off options.

If she went back to the treehouse, Chad and Alicia might die out here, and she would never know how. Or why. Or who to blame. She would sit alone, wondering, but she would never get answers. Maybe she would go to Sally's group, but they wouldn't have answers. She would spend the rest of her life wondering if she could have helped save them by staying.

But if she stayed, she might get caught by one of her brother’s hunters, then she could be the reason Alicia got caught because it was very clear Alicia would not walk away from her. Maybe it was a wolf thing or a trauma thing, but Alicia was pretty attached, and that meant Stella could hurt Alicia without meaning to. She could be the bait that lured Alicia into a trap.

She couldn't live with either outcome, but she didn't know which choice to make to avoid disaster.

Alicia leaned in until their foreheads touched. “Please,” she said softly. “Go home. I promise I’ll return.”

“Don't make a promise that you can’t keep,” Stella said. She was humiliated by how close she was to crying.

“I never have,” Alicia said. “It's a wolf thing.”

They stood in the dappled shade of the forest, the wind rattling the leaves overhead and a pair of jays having a raucous argument. The pressure of Alicia's fear made the air heavy. No, not fear, desperation. Maybe Stella couldn't smell it, but she knew it was there.

“Okay,” Stella said.

Alicia took a step backward. “Thank you,” she said. Before Stella could answer, Alicia had turned into a wolf. The wolf gave Stella one last look and then it darted off between the trees.

With fear twisting in her belly, Stella headed back toward the treehouse. They were good two miles from home through rocky terrain and thick underbrush. Stella hoped that wandering travelers were the sources of the smell. Otherwise, her brother’s group was far too close for comfort. Her father had always said they should keep their home base far from town to avoid any groups of zombies. Maybe they weren't that dangerous individually, but in a mob they were deadly.

If her brother was this close to town, it was trouble. She had made it about half a mile to the creek where she had once found a dead skunk before some sense that she was being watched made her pull her rifle around to the front. She altered course and followed the nearly dry creek down to a rock pile, her back itching with the feeling she had a target on it. She clambered over the rocks and then lay down, studying the path behind her as she waited to see if anyone would appear.

A soft rustle like a bird searching through the leaves in search of bugs pulled her attention away from the path and she swung her rifle around to cover the direction from which the sound had come. For the space of a few seconds, she hoped that nothing worse than paranoia was stalking her. Then she heard a voice.

“Well, well, well. It looks like someone listened to father's lessons after all.” Jordan stepped out of the shadow of a tree and Stella brought her weapon up and sighted along the barrel.

“Jordan.” Hatred stained her voice and kept her from saying anything else. She felt like if she spoke at all, she would scream, call him a murderer and shoot him in the face. At least two of those actions would be stupid and the third… She just couldn't bring herself to do it. So they stared at each other across a chasm created by more death than either of them could forgive.

“What are you doing here?” Stella asked.

“I could ask you the same thing. Actually, I could ask how you're still alive. You never did listen to father's lessons, so I had given you up as zombie chow years ago.”

“I listened better than you. You clearly ignored the parts where father talked about the necessity of cooperation and working together to build something that would survive the zombies. Do you remember that lecture?”

Jordan’s laugh was dark and full of anger. Or maybe that was just Stella’s interpretation. “I remember father taking in every stray that crossed our doorstep, sharing our supplies with every desperate refugee. I remember thinking we were all going to die because our father turned out to be an idealistic idiot.” He made a production out of twisting his features into a mockery of surprise. “I never would've thought that, but I guess the apocalypse brings out a person's true nature.”

“Yeah, like it brought out the murderer in you.”

Jordan stepped closer, and she could see the shadow of her brother and this person in front of her, but it wasn't him anymore. He had a burn scar up the back of his left arm that left his skin slick and diseased-looking, and he was gaunt and sharp in a way that her brother never had been. “If I hadn’t stopped our father, we both would've starved to death. I saved us, if you look at it that way.”

“Don't pretend that what you did had anything to do with me. I left with father if you remember, at least until you tracked him down and killed him in front of me.” Stella glared at him, daring him to offer any other description.

Jordan shrugged. “Yeah, but I taught him not to take in strays. If we feed every weakling trying to reach Canada and some mythical land of zombie-free bliss that doesn’t exist, then we’ll all die. It’s like the story of the lifeguard. You have to protect yourself first if you plan to help anyone else. And you do seem to have benefited from that lesson, although you're looking a little unhealthy. Sister are you getting enough to eat?”

What a load of shit. “Someone stole my deer, which I was counting on for meat since the grocery store is out. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Stella lowered her rifle sights slightly, but she kept her weapon pointed at her brother.

“We found your blood at the scene where you murdered one of my hunters.” At the word murder, Stella brought the weapon up, braced for an attack. Instead, Jordan chuckled. “Congratulations on that, by the way. Father would be so proud of you. Although, how you managed to find and train a dog much less feed one is beyond me. That seems like an excessive number of resources to put into a weapon that is going to grow old and die before you can really get your value out of it.”

“Well, you always know how I asked Mom and Dad for a dog. I figure since I’m an adult now, I don't need their permission, which is good considering their dead.”

Jordan narrowed his eyes. “Don't blame me for both of them. I was only responsible for one. You’ll have to blame someone else for mother's death.” If Jordan expected a response, he was going to be disappointed. Stella stared at him. When Stella remained silent, he shrugged and leaned back against a tree. “So, it seems that you got hit with one of our arrows. I'm wondering how you're still alive.”

“Funny, I'm wondering how you found me.”

Jordan chuckled, a condescending sound. “You left your blood behind for a magic user to find. What did you expect to happen?”

“You admit to having a magic user in your group?” That shocked Stella. She’d assumed he would deny knowing anything about magic. After all, their father had taught them to hide their resources the way he’d hidden his survival bunker deep onto federal property.

Jordan's expression arranged itself into amusement. “If you're still alive, I’m not the only one. Be grateful I still have a soft spot for my baby sister. When my magic user realized that the blood on scene was linked to me, I chose to ask him for tracking spell rather than a blood curse. This could have ended much worse for you.”

“Fuck you,” Stella said even thought fear turned her fingers to ice. He had her blood. Why hadn’t it occurred to her that might be bad.

“I’m not into that. Besides, I have a girlfriend. And now I have found the one resource that father lacked if he wanted to fix the world.”

“A son who wasn’t a backstabbing, murderous psychopathic? Stella asked with exaggerated cheer.

All amusement vanished from Jordan's face. “You survived the arrow, so you're allied with a magic user too. You know how they change the odds. And obviously you're strong enough to survive.” His expression smoothed out. “I'm actually impressed. There's no reason for us to be on opposite sides anymore. What do you say? Let's get the old family back together.”

“Not only are you a psychopath, but you’re a stupid one if you think I'm going to fall for that.”

“There's nothing to fall for. I'm being honest.” Jordan showed his palms as if that proved he was helpless or surrendering or whatever he thought that gesture meant. “I will even give you your choice of hunters. You pick one, and they are yours to do what you want with them. You always did fancy the blonde guys, and I have a couple of handsome guys you might enjoy.”

Stella's eyebrows went up so high that the muscles around her eyes ached.

“What?” Jordan asked. “I always reward successful hunts, and you managed to take down not only a deer but a hunter from a rival group. That would seem to justify a reward.”

It took Stella a few minutes to find her words. “What is wrong with you?”

“Look around.” He raised his arms and turned in a circle so that his statement encompassed the entire world. “I'm just finding a way to survive and build something strong enough to keep surviving.”

“No, that's what Dad was doing.”

Jordan scoffed. “No, Dad was being an idiot. He was forgetting the first rule of survival, and that's that the strong survive and the weak don't.”

Stella thought of that little boy, ten or eleven years old who was always following behind Jordan, who looked at him with such worship. When Jordan and the others came back with that story about him being killed, their eyes had shown with unshed tears. Stella wondered if they’d been outstanding actors or if, for even one moment, they had regretted what they had done to that little boy. A tiny voice whispered that maybe they’d told the truth, but Stella had long ago labeled that voice wishful thinking and dismissed it from any calculation.

“Think about it,” Jordan said with a shrug. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned and strolled away while whistling as though he had nothing more significant to worry about than being late for basketball practice.