“And that’s where you’ve been this entire time?” Hunters were efficient killers, but he’d never heard of them holding anyone prisoner, especially not for two fucking years.
Mackenna caught the corner of her lower lip between her teeth and nodded again.
“Were there others?”
“Yes. Most of them didn’t last long.”
“Do you know how many?”
“Maybe ten or twelve?” Her nose wrinkled, and her eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure. It was always changing, and the Hunters didn’t keep us together except on the full moon. I rarely saw the same faces twice.”
He was almost afraid to ask. “What happened on the full moon?”
“The Wild Hunt.”
Yep, he was definitely going to regret this. “And what is the Wild Hunt?”
“Every full moon, they’d let us loose in the woods to train new recruits in how to track and kill Gemini. Most of us didn’t make it to morning.”
The world had become a brutal place, and he’d honestly thought nothing could surprise him anymore. He’d been wrong. “How did they keep you from escaping?”
“Drugs. Shock collars.” She stroked the bandage on her neck absently. “They chipped us like animals so they could track us if we ever did manage to make it out of the forest.”
He wanted to reach out and offer some small measure of comfort, but he didn’t know if his touch would be welcome. Furthermore, he couldn’t work out if the desire to console her came from his own motivations or whatever magical connection was drawing them together.
Eventually, he settled on placing his hand over hers where it rested on the mattress. Aware of her injuries, he kept the pressure light and studied her for any signs of discomfort. Mackenna didn’t react to the contact, but a little of the tension seemed to ease from her body.
“You’re doing great,” he praised. “Just a couple of more questions, okay?”
She gave him the ghost of a grin. “Okay.”
“How did you escape?”
“One of the new recruits forgot to lock my cell.” Her eyebrows drew together, and she shook her head. “He was…nice to me.”
Cade understood the confusion. What she described sounded like more than simple carelessness. A guard wouldn’t just forget to lock a cell, especially not when his prisoner could easily kill him if she escaped. Showing her compassion didn’t necessarily mean he’d left the cell door unlocked on purpose, but it was interesting, another piece to add to the puzzle.
“The burns?” He stroked his thumb over the back of her bandaged hand.
“I had to climb out through the smokestack of an incinerator.”
“Jesus Christ.”
The Marine Corps had provided him with the basic skills needed to survive in this new world, but contrary to popular belief, he’d never been to war. He’d been stationed at a logistics base in Georgia when everything had gone to shit, and he’d spent most of his days writing computer code. When the small group of survivors he’d met along the way had heard he was former military, they’d all assumed he was some decorated war hero.
He hadn’t corrected them.
Even when Roux had brought up him mumbling about insurgents in his sleep, he’d just grunted and let her go on believing the lie. He’d been too much of a coward to confess that he’d been dreaming about their own small band of rebels. In his vision, the Coalition had been referring to them as insurgents, right before they’d executed them all.
It was a nightmare he still experienced frequently.
Every answer Mackenna gave him just brought up more questions. Add to that, they still hadn’t discussed what him being her mate entailed. The exhaustion on her face, however, held him back. The conversation was clearly taking a toll, and he’d already demanded so much of her.
She needed to rest and recover. She needed to heal. At least for the moment, the rest could wait.
“You should probably try to eat something. I think they’re making pancakes in the kitchen. If you don’t like that, there’s cereal.” He tried to picture the contents of the pantry. “I think I saw some oatmeal.”
Her face blanched, and she shook her head adamantly. “No oatmeal.”
It was a pretty intense reaction to some rolled oats. There was a story there, but Cade bit his tongue and refrained from asking. “Okay, no oatmeal. How are we feeling about those pancakes?”
“With syrup?”
Cade grinned at her hopeful tone. “Of course.” He had no idea if syrup would be included with breakfast, but they’d cross that bridge when they came to it. “You rest. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He glanced over his shoulder at the black screen of the television mounted on the wall. “There’s no cable or anything like that, but there’s a box of DVDs in the cabinet. Do you want to take a look?”
“Maybe later.”
“Okay.” He patted her hand gently as he rose from the bed. “I’ll be back.”
Walking away from her was harder than it should have been, but he forced himself to keep going and not look back.
He didn’t know how the Revenant had found the small rural hospital or the qualified people to staff it, but it was one of the better safe houses he’d seen. The hotel in Kansas City had been spacious and comfortable, but it had been too exposed in the middle of the city. The medical equipment had been rudimentary at best—bandages, aspirin, iodine. Anyone suffering from serious illness or injury rarely survived.
From what he’d seen, the hospital was well stocked and highly operational. Even better, they had an actual doctor in full-time residence, as well as a couple of nurses. He didn’t know if they’d worked at the hospital before the Purge, or if they’d gravitated there along the way, but the refugees were lucky to have them.
Currently, there were sixteen residents staying at the
