Melancholy: Book Two of The Cure (Omnibus Edition) Read online

  Wind slams me sideways, but I don’t have time to hesitate. Swinging out my window, I scramble on top of the smashed car. The train’s moving too damn fast. I have to time it perfectly.

  Peering sideways, there’s just enough room for me to see the end of the train approach. Taking a deep breath, I throw myself out just as the silver metal flashes past and grab hold of something – anything. It’s the ladder, and as my hands clench around the steel pole I feel the velocity of the train’s momentum wrench me into space and yank my shoulder out of its socket.

  A scream leaves my mouth but I don’t let go.

  Grasping the ladder with both hands, I manage to scrabble for a foothold. With shuddering breaths I rest my face against the back of the train and try to block out the pain. My training as a Blood means I can do it, but the toll of the last week or so on my mind and body makes it a slower process than usual.

  When my brain seems to be functioning with a semblance of clarity, I pry open the back door and squeeze inside. Relief surges as the world falls blessedly quiet. I hadn’t realized how unsettling it was to have noise pounding through your skull for days without respite.

  I move into the first carriage and perch on one of the seats. I have no idea who I’ll find on this train, so I need to prepare. Closing my eyes, I take my right hand and twist the arm hard, fast and up. Pain splices through my shoulder as it crunches back into place.

  Moving my wrist to rest over my chest, I get to my feet and start searching the train. It’s not until I reach the very front engine room that I believe – it’s miraculously empty. It must run on some kind of continuous loop.

  Sagging onto one of the seats, I settle in for a long journey with no food or water.

  *

  February 4th 2065

  Luke

  Pain lances through my head. It joins the rest of the pain in my body, accumulating and storing itself away so that I’ll be able to really enjoy it later. My left eye is swollen shut and there’s blood trickling into the right, but I can still see well enough to look at my torturer.

  He is a tall man, lean but very strong through his wiry limbs. There’s something familiar about his demeanor, about the set of his shoulders and the way his gaze turns dark before he punches me. His skin is tanned and leathery from having spent many hours under the sun. I judge him to be in his fifties, and he hasn’t said a single word to me all day. I wonder if perhaps he doesn’t understand the purpose of torture, but disregard the thought immediately – this is a man who knows exactly what he’s doing. He took the measure of me straight away, and knows I won’t speak unless I want to. So he’s working me a bit, and enjoying himself in the process.

  There’s another who comes in and out to check on the progress. He asks questions, a crapload of them. Says his name is Quinn, and he doesn’t understand that I’m not going to tell him shit until they stop beating me.

  “Anything yet?” Quinn asks as he enters the small room for the fifth time today.

  The torturer shakes his head.

  Quinn, who is short but stocky, with sun-bleached hair and honest blue eyes, paces around the chair I’m tied to. “I’m going to ask you one more time, and then I’m going to kill you. Who are you?”

  “I’ve already told you,” I mumble through a mouthful of blood. “My name is Luke Townsend.”

  “But why are you here, Luke? How did you find us?”

  “I’ll tell you when you untie me. I’m no threat to you or any of your people.”

  Tall Guy punches me in the arm and it goes well and truly dead.

  “Why the hell would we untie you?” Quinn asks. “The only possible way you could have found our train line is if you’re a Blood. And I’d rather cut off my own limbs than set you free among my family.”

  Quinn stalks out and I stare at Tall Guy. He is as expressionless as he’s been all day. His dark, dark eyes find a way inside me, but not even those eyes know how stubborn I can be.

  I got off the train this morning and walked straight into the middle of the camp, hands up, unarmed. It took them all of ten seconds to surround me, take me captive and bring me to this dark little room for ‘questioning’.

  “How long are we going to do this?” the man asks suddenly, the first time he’s spoken. His voice is surprisingly rough, as if he rarely uses it.

  “You tell me, big guy.”

  He shrugs. “I’ll keep hitting you until you admit that you untied your ropes hours ago.”

  I smile and let my hands drop to my sides.

  Taking me by the arm, he pulls me to my feet and marches me out of the room. The night is cooling considerably. There is a cluster of people standing around in the dust and they turn as one to look at me.

  “Did he speak?” Quinn asks.

  My torturer doesn’t say anything, and I realize that this is my moment.

  “Like I said, my name’s Luke Townsend. I was a Blood once, but not anymore. I’m here to help you destroy them.”

  *

  September 21st, 2065

  Josephine

  After my tour they let me sleep for two nights and a day, and when I wake I feel more human. My elbow is still broken and my feet are still cut, but I’m otherwise alright. My teeth and fingernails don’t ache like they wish to be free. My skin doesn’t feel like it’s been scoured. A miracle, given the blood moon has only just passed.

  Pace is sent to start me on my first day of work, fitting me out in tough work clothes and heavy work boots. She doesn’t look happy about it, eyeing me up and down and pointing out every physical flaw she can spot. “You’re hobbling like an old gran,” she says as we cut behind a water silo to find a huge field of wheat. It’s like magic to my eyes to see things actually growing out here. “And your hands are soft like a baby’s.”

  I don’t know what she expects me to say.

  Pace leads me to where a row of people hack away at the stems of wheat. They’re all tanned and strong, and they look at me curiously until Pace shoves a massive sickle into my hand and turns to leave.

  “Wait! What do I do?”

  She glances back at me with irritation. “Are you daft? Cut low to the stem and tie it into piles.”

  I turn to my row of wheat, spying on the people on either side of me. As I try to copy their confident actions, I find my back aching and my hands getting cut. After about an hour I’m about to pass out, and slump to the ground for a break.

  “No stopping yet,” an old fat woman says as she breezes by me, cutting away like she was born to it. “Three more hours, then lunch, then four more hours.”

  I sigh in sheer disbelief. “I can’t. I’m still weak.”

  She grunts in agreement and moves on.

  Removing my work boots, I see that my feet have bled through the bandaging. Hobbling back toward the end of the row, I emerge to find Hal and Will passing by with massive machetes on their backs.

  “Hey!” I shout.

  They spot me and head over. “How’s day one?” Will asks.

  “I can’t – my feet,” I tell them, showing the blood.

  Both the boys peer at me. “You have to,” Hal says simply.

  “Look.”

  “Ranya cleared you for work, so you have to work.”

  My mouth falls open. “But I can’t.”

  “Sure you can,” Will grins as they turn to leave. “Gumption, girl! Gumption.”

  *

  I jerk awake and blink several times to get my bearings. Pace’s blue eyes glare at me from within a canopy of wheat. The sky behind her is golden and pink.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  I sit up, not in the mood to get reamed. “Back off, Pace.”

  She shoves me hard in the shoulder.

  “What are you doing? You gonna beat me up because I fell asleep?”

  “You have no idea what you’ve got yourself into, do you?” she asks. Hauling me to my sore feet, she tugs me back toward the houses. “How many hours did you do today?”

 
; I shrug. It was one. If that.

  “How much time did you waste feeling sorry for yourself?”

  Angrily I wrench my arm out of her grip. “What I do with my time is none of your business.”

  Her lip curls. “You think you own your time? Your life? Well you don’t. You went to our tree and you accepted our help, and you followed us here so now you and your whole life belong to The Inferno. Hurry up.”

  I watch her walk away. I’m exhausted and sore and I could really use a shower. Besides which, I’m desperate to get back to Luke. But in the end I have no idea where I am or where the hospital is, so I follow the cow.

  She takes me to the biggest building in the camp – it’s wide and flat, and has no windows that I can see. Inside is a massive dining hall, with huge handcrafted tables and an enormous kitchen at the back. Every inch of space is full of people chatting and laughing and arguing. I stop at the entrance, overwhelmed by the sight.

  Only once before have I seen so many people in the same place – that was at the illegal warehouse party I took Luke to, and that was a nightmare of crazy drones. This is different. This is wonderful.

  Loud, rowdy music is played by a band in the corner and a few men have erupted into an alarmingly rough wrestle-fight that no one seems remotely bothered by – in fact, those nearby are cheering them on.

  Pace glances at me and grins. “Welcome to the Den.” I can barely hear her over the ruckus.

  She takes me to the serving line and hands me a plate. My eyes travel over the faces before me, so many that they start to blend into a sea of dirty happy angry alive. At the head of one of the tables is Quinn, wearing his easy, infectious smile. I watch him for a moment, wondering about how he came to be the leader of this place.

  Another argument breaks out in the food line and a woman’s plate is sent flying through the air to splatter over everyone nearby, including Pace and me. I blink, then realize they’re all laughing.

  I’m so disoriented that Pace has to nudge me to hold my plate out for a big slop of veggie stew and a chunky piece of damper. It smells delicious and my mouth waters. I’m looking around for a quiet corner when Pace drags me to the front of the room.

  Quinn stands. He takes my hand and lifts it high. “Ho!” he booms and everyone gives a mighty cheer in response.

  Jesus, they’re all staring at me. In the city I was completely invisible. I never thought I’d long for those days.

  “This is Dual. She’s uncured and filled with the fury she was born with. Welcome the newest member of the uncured!”

  Everyone rises to their feet to cheer and clap. It’s a wall of sound and movement, and I feel heat rise to my cheeks. ‘Uncured and filled with the fury she was born with’ sounded like an intonation – I wonder if it’s their motto.

  “She’s also brought our Luke back to us, and for that she has our gratitude.”

  This time there’s an even bigger cheer. I wince. They all need to chill the hell out.

  To me Quinn says, “Your blood’s clean, kid. So I’m formally welcoming you to The Inferno.”

  A warm feeling fills my chest. But just like that, the kind smile is gone. “But you spend another day like you did today and you’ll be asked to leave. Understood, Dual?”

  A large section of the room seems to have fallen quiet around us, waiting for my response. I feel outraged, fire seething beneath my surface. It might also be embarrassment. “I don’t take orders,” I tell Quinn. “I’ll work, but I’ll do it when my injuries are healed.”

  An eruption of laughter bursts from the crowd.

  Quinn tilts his head to better study me. I don’t let my eyes leave his. “Is that so?” He cracks his knuckles; it’s obviously to intimidate. “You’ve been medically vetted, so you work. I hope that’s clear enough for you. Enjoy your meal and get a good sleep tonight. We’re very happy to have you here.”

  I’m about to argue when Pace pinches my arm hard enough to make my eyes water. She leads me further down the table to where Hal and Will are sitting, both of whom laugh hysterically at me.

  “What?” I snap.

  “How the hell did you ever pass for a drone?” Will asks.

  “Your animal lives at the surface,” Hal agrees.

  “What does that mean?”

  Hal tears a huge hunk of bread free and puts the whole thing in his mouth, then takes about two seconds to chew and swallow. “Your animal. Your wild. We all have it. If yours is a strong animal, it’ll be harder to control. If your wild is vast, you’ll live deeper inside it and find it harder to come out.”

  I stare at him.

  “He’s nuts,” Pace says with a roll of her eyes. But she smiles sideways at him, and while I’m not particularly good at interpreting this stuff, I’m fairly sure they’re more than friends.

  There’s a movement in the corner of my eye, a flash of color, of something fluid, and when I look up the breath catches in my throat. A goddess has just walked into the hall. She’s curved in a perfect hourglass figure, her hair is fire-engine red, and she moves like a dancer who can hear music in every step. I can’t drag my eyes away.

  “Oh lord,” Pace sighs. “It’s the evil queen.”

  “Avoid that one,” Will agrees. “Devil incarnate.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Raven.”

  I watch as Raven leans down to kiss Quinn on the lips, then slides into a seat beside him. She looks incredibly self-satisfied.

  “Dual,” Pace says sharply. “Listen to me. Stay away from her. You won’t have any idea what she’s thinking, and if she’s nice to you, she’s probably, like, about to scratch your eyes out with her talons.”

  I nod, but I want to know where her name comes from.

  After dinner Hal walks me to my new accommodation. He and Will live in the cells, but I’ve been put in with Pace, who’s in one of the mud brick houses but disappeared without a word after dinner. The house is small and simple, and just what I need. My room has a bed and a dresser, along with a cupboard that’s stocked with clothes and shoes. Apart from my room and Pace’s, the house has a small living room with a single couch, and a bathroom. No need for a kitchen, apparently, because everyone eats together in the dining hall.

  I love the simplicity of it, even though it doesn’t have one of my favorite things: a bathtub. I have never had a home so nice. Except for the one I shared with Luke, the one filled with lies.

  “Why’s there a room free?”

  “Pace’s roommate died last week.”

  “What? Shit. That’s awful. How?”

  “How everyone dies here – killed by the Furies while she was hunting. You gonna be alright?”

  I nod, sinking onto my bed. My feet hurt so much I’m dizzy. “Why did I get a medical clearance if I can barely walk? I also don’t think scything wheat is great for a broken elbow.”

  “Look,” Hal says kindly. “The only thing anyone cares about here is fortitude. You earn their respect, you’ll earn their loyalty. You act like a coward and they’ll despise you.”

  When he’s gone all I want to do is sleep, even though everything in this room clearly belongs to a dead girl. Instead I walk back out into the dark, quiet streets of the camp, and I find my way painstakingly to the hospital so that I can spend the night sitting beside Luke’s bed.

  *

  September 22nd, 2065

  Josephine

  I wake in a chair, stiff and sore and more tired than I was last night. No one disturbs us as the sun rears its head and turns the room gold. The heat is already seeping into the day.

  Ranya arrives to check on Luke.

  “Why did you clear me for work?” I ask.

  “Because you’re ready. Pad your feet up and use your right arm, you’ll be right.”

  “I’m still injured.”

  “You can do anything you put your mind to.”

  “Oh, Jesus. Can’t I work somewhere else? Why does it have to be in the field?”

  “Prove yourself and they
might move you.” She pauses, then smirks. “You think the field is bad? Wait till they start you in training.”

  “Training? For what?”

  She doesn’t reply, just laughs as she leaves. I sigh, placing a hand on Luke’s forehead. “Everyone here is crazy.” I wait for him to wake and tell me I’m just being stubborn, but he doesn’t, so I keep waiting.

  *

  October 1st, 2065

  Josephine

  On Sunday everyone gets a day off for the tournament. I have absolutely no idea what this is until I follow Will to the central square and realize the entire population has crowded around two men, and as we squeeze through to the front, they launch at each other and start fighting. Like, real fighting. Scary, crazy, lunatic fighting. Soldier fighting. Warrior fighting.

  My mouth falls open. Part of me finds it disturbing, but a bigger part is thrilled and fascinated with the athleticism in the blows and movements. It doesn’t end until one of the men is on the ground and taps out.

  The fights go on all afternoon, the winners moving on to fight someone else until they reach the top of the ladder and have to face the best. The best being, of course, Quinn. And it’s not just the guys – the women fight too, and are equally ferocious.

  I watch as Quinn’s quick, flashy moves destroy his opponent in no time, and he bows to the cheers of the crowd.

  “Does this happen every Sunday?”

  “Yep.”

  “Do people volunteer?”

  Will looks at me and laughs. “Oh lord, you are funny sometimes, Dual. Everyone fights. Once a month. I’m next week. You’ll be entered as soon as you finish your first round of training.”

  I nearly pee my pants. “What?”

  “It’s how we stay strong,” Will says. “How we survive.”

  “By beating each other?”

  He doesn’t reply. I follow his gaze to the crumpled figure on the ground, having made it all the way to the top only to be beaten by The Inferno’s leader. “Does anyone beat Quinn?”

  Will gives me a funny look. “Once. There was one.”