Page 31 of Hunt Me (The Skulls #1)

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Fauna

I t took me longer than I hoped to return to the school. Without a map and little prior knowledge of the city, I had to rely on following signs for the university and the park.

About an hour into the walk back, an overwhelming feeling of being watched washed over me.

The creepy sensation that I was being followed.

I didn ’ t catch anyone, but surviving these past years I ’ ve developed a sixth sense for when something is off.

Which is another reason why it has taken hours for me to get back.

Uncomfortable with the feeling, I ’ d purposely gone through buildings, cut around corners and hidden in alleyways, but nothing came out. Not a physical sign of anyone.

Eventually, I had to give up, putting it down to the idea that all of my random movements either managed to lose them or signalled that I suspected their presence, and they backed off.

Not wanting to take any unnecessary chances, I opt to enter the school through the back entrance, one where I know one of the girls will be standing guard.

My footsteps are light and well-placed as I make my way through the greenery, jumping over the small fence and into the open space that was once a playground.

Soot stains the concrete from where there was once a fire, and the charred remains of a child ’ s bike stick out of the rubble in the middle.

Not wanting to think much more about it I hurry to the doorway.

Before I can get there, though, an arrow whizzes past my ear. On instinct, my hand darts up, and a slight stinging sensation begins in the spot where the arrow sailed past. I bring my fingertips in front of me, finding them stained red.

Elizabeth.

My eyes scan my surroundings, looking for an open window or door. Somewhere she could be hidden but I have no luck.

I rule out it being someone else. If it were, they would have shot me by now; too much time has passed since that first and only shot. And none of the other girls would be confident enough in their abilities not to hit me and cause severe damage accidentally.

‘ Come on, Liz. ’ I shout to the nighttime air.

Another arrow, this time aimed at my feet, is her way of answering me. I look up, smirking as I find her. That shot, having given away her location.

Crouched ten feet off of the ground amongst tree branches is Elizabeth, her fiery auburn hair escaping her beanie in wispy tendrils and a look on her face that would turn me to ice if I was a weaker woman.

I beam a smile at her. ‘ I see you ’ re a happy gal today. ’

She raises her bow, but a voice from the doorway distracts us both.

‘ Fauna Evans, where the hell have you been? ’ I ’ d know Isla ’ s less-than-impressed tone anywhere. ‘ And what are you wearing? ’

With my grin feeling a little more sheepish than the one I ’ d given to Elizabeth, I turn to face Isla.

‘ Long story, Isla. Long story. ’ I admit, walking towards my best friend.

She surprises me by embracing me with a warm hug, the slight swell of her bump pressing into me as we hold each other.

‘ You ’ re clean, ’ Elizabeth observes as she drops down from her perch in the tree.

‘ And your hair is all nice, ’ Isla notes.

‘ Erm yeh, I managed to get a shower. ’

‘ How did you do that? ’ Elizabeth asks, just as Isla demands to know where.

The further along her pregnancy, the more uncomfortable Isla has been getting with certain things. One is how badly we all smell.

‘ I don ’ t know where it was, ’ feeling guilty that there was no way I would take them there even if I could remember exactly where it was. ‘ I ’ ve spent all night trying to figure my way back here. ’

Isla nods, ‘ let ’ s get inside. ’

Elizabeth doesn ’ t follow us, and I feel her suspicious gaze stay on my back as I walk inside with Isla.

‘ Liz is pissed with me. ’

‘ Liz is always pissed. It ’ s part of her dark and stormy personality. Anyway, you should be flattered that ’ s the most she ’ s spoken since you left. The others haven ’ t heard a peep out of her. ’

Another layer of guilt wraps around me. I ’ d found Elizabeth in the army camp years ago.

She was terrified, with bruises covering her body and refused to speak a word to anyone.

As time passed and we got away from the camp, she started to say odd bits here and there, but there was nothing close to the conversations the rest of us had.

Something in me knows that she ’ d known pain way before the rest of us were handed it by the virus, but over the years it ’ s seemed like, despite her past, she ’ s still stuck there longing for someone she left behind.

Now, she just exists. Much like the rest of us.

We have been surviving on autopilot for so long now, and Ruaridh blew that out of the water. It ruined my acceptance of how we were working and our plans to find somewhere up North and settle down in our group.

That thought used to make me happy would fill me with relief to finally be somewhere we could each call home again. But after these past few days the thought leaves me feeling hollow and full of dread.

‘ Look who ’ s finally back, ’ Isla announces as we walk down the hallway to what was a teacher ’ s lounge area.

‘ Fauna, ’ Amelia shouts, skipping towards me, knitting needles abandoned in her rush to make it to me.

‘ Hey Mills, ’ I tuck a tendril of black hair back from her face, noticing how her hooded eyes are watery with emotion.

I look around the room seeing no hostility in their expressions, just relief.

I also knew better than to mistake Elizabeth ’ s stormy greeting as anything but relief as well.

And any mystery I felt before is wrapped with a blanket of love that I feel for these women.

Their beauty shines from the inside just as much as it does on the outside.

They have always made me feel appreciated.

And I appreciate them just as much. Every one of them is my family.

‘ What happened for you to be away longer? ’ Amelia asks.

Internally, I sigh, making sure that my outward expression is still light and happy. Not giving anything away that would cause them concern.

How much can I tell them? Or, more importantly, how much should I tell them?

‘ I fell down the sewers, got chased by some psychos – don ’ t worry, none of them touched me, ’ I send a cocky grin out to them, hoping to ease any nerves with the mention of being attacked.

‘ Then I found an old safe zone. It still had a working shower, hence the cleanliness and different clothes. ’

‘ Why two nights? ’ Isla pushes, not satisfied by my story. ‘ And where did that come from? ’ she motions to the axe I ’ d forgotten about.

I wince at the memory, unable to keep that part of me cornered off from them.

We each have our preferred weapons and as weird as it may seem, we are each attached to them for different reasons.

But whenever we think about it, it makes perfect sense.

Like how your trauma bonds to a person, it can cause you to form all sorts of connections, just like the connections we have with our weapons.

They have saved us and protected us repeatedly, so we trust them even though we are the ones wielding them.

How little I thought about my bat when I was with Ruaridh surprises me. When I think about it I hardly needed to reach for her at all.

Grief churns my stomach, it now sinking in that not only have I lost my contentment to be alone, but I have also lost the only thing that made me happy in that loneliness.

And it is all Ruaridh ’ s fault.

I hate that man.

‘ Some assholes. ’

‘ What asshole? ’ Isla questions.

‘ He still out there? ’ Luna asks, twirling her knife. ‘ I can skin him if he is. Use his skin as a nice handle, maybe a new belt to hold it. ’

I chuckle as some of the others look in her direction, their expressions written in disgust.

Luna has always been one of the more gruesome of our group, more than happy to do the dirtier jobs. Ones since Kate died, she has been ready to throw herself into, like she needs the violence and feeds on the pain of others to help guide her through her grief.

‘ We don ’ t need to worry about him. ’

I ’ ll never see him again, so I might as well start erasing everything related to Ruaridh, the monster, from my memory. But my body still remembers the way he touched me and held me as we drifted off to sleep. He was gentle and caring compared to how rough I know he can be.

My cheeks begin to heat, and I turn around in my pacing.

Fuck. I need to stop thinking about him.

‘ How ’ s the baby? ’ I ask Isla.

‘ Fine, ’ she rubs a palm across her bump.

Isla tries to hide her worry, but I ’ ve known her for too long not to notice the signs.

Her vibrant green eyes have been too wide since we looked at the pregnancy test results.

She always had a slight scowl on her face, what the girls at school would have called a resting bitch face before the world ended.

But now, the scowl is more profound, like she is waiting for something terrible to happen, for someone or something to let her down.

Sometimes, I wonder if she ’ s purposefully egging the other girls on, almost baiting them into doing something wrong so she has an excuse to dislike them.

Isla ’ s always had a hard shell to crack. One that I bulldozed myself straight into. She ’ s always said she got stuck with me, but I can still feel the way she clung to me when she saw the pregnancy test result. Her legs were weak as I held her, and her tears wet the collar of my top.

That was around a month ago.