Page 39 of Hunt Me (The Skulls #1)

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Ruaridh

F auna ’ s cracked apology rings in my ears as I stand rooted to my spot. Unable to process what has just happened in time to follow her.

I found my deer, but that ’ s not all.

I found my sister.

The sister I watched burn to death in a fire years ago, or so I thought.

A palm smacks across my face, forcing my attention on the raging woman in front of me.

‘ What the fuck, ’ I roar in Isla ’ s face.

We haven ’ t seen each other for years, and this is how she welcomes me. I thought she was dead, and judging by the disbelief in her eyes, she thought I was too. Or maybe she hoped I was.

‘ What the fuck, ’ she mimics, pitching her voice higher as she purses her lips in disgust. ‘ What the actual fuck are you doing here, Ruaridh? Hmm, and with—’ she goes to slap me again, but I dodge this time. ‘ My best friend! ’

‘ Like I knew! ’ I challenge ‘ How would I know? I thought you were dead. ’

Isla manages to catch my cheek again in amongst some of her rapid-fire slapping, and I grunt, bringing my fingers up to rub the sting.

‘ Still a psycho, I see. ’ I mumble, unable to help myself but slip into our old bickering.

‘ You ’ re the creep walking around cosplaying like a fifteen-year-old. See you never outgrew being a bam, you psychotic loser. ’

I feign shock, pouting as I hold my hands to my chest. ‘ You wound me. ’

‘ Oh, piss off. ’ She looks me up and down, ‘ A bull running at full speed couldn ’ t hurt you. ’

I grin manically, ‘ not just a bam anymore. ’

Isla scoffs, but she assesses me. I ’ ve changed drastically since I last saw her. Pouring my grief into honing my body into a machine, into focusing on one thing. Pain. And I found that pain in many things, one being the conditioning of my body.

‘ See you haven ’ t gone hungry. ’

‘ You can hardly talk, ’ I respond with a point towards her pregnant belly. Despite my dig, it doesn ’ t stop the guilt that pinches at me.

Fauna ’ s discomfort over the cans she had eaten hits deeper now that I know she likely had my sister ’ s well-being on her mind.

Her guilt was because she knew my hungry, pregnant sister was back here, probably without most of the food I was feeding my little deer.

Fauna ’ s hunger was evident in how she wolfed down the food, so how long had she and Isla gone without it?

How much have the two of them suffered?

How much of that suffering could have been avoided if I hadn ’ t believed Isla was dead — if I hadn ’ t accepted that she was gone? Why did I give in so easily? I had let those people drag me away, kicking and screaming, but she was still there, all alone, without me to take care of her.

Neither of them will be alone ever again, I swear it.

Isla doesn ’ t try to slap me again, meaning my remark must hit too close to the bone.

I feel no satisfaction or smugness at her silence; the younger me would have relished my victory at getting one over on my sister.

But neither of us is our younger selves, and this world is even more dark and brutal than the one we left behind.

A sickness begins to churn inside my stomach as I watch her anger disappear, replaced by a raw vulnerability I have never seen in her before.

‘ Did—’ the question lodges in my throat. It closes as if to protect some semblance of hope that if I don ’ t utter the words, then they won ’ t be true.

Please don ’ t be true.

‘ Did someone do this? ’

Isla stares at me as if I have grown a second head. ‘ You think I ’ m the next virgin Mary or something? Of fucking course someone else did this, ’ she gestures to the swell of her bump. ‘ Jesus, Ru, have you lost half of your brain cells. ’

‘ Not what I was asking, ’ grinding my teeth. ‘ Did someone force you, Isla? Were you—’

‘ Raped? ’ she finishes for me. I watch as her lips turn white as she mashes them together, a frown appearing between her eyebrows.

I step towards her, reaching out my arms to embrace her. My jaw feels like it is about to crack with the pressure. I clench my teeth together but don ’ t let my fury bubble over. This is about being here for my little sister and her needs, not mine.

‘ No, ’ Isla shakes her head wildly. ‘ No, Ru. It wasn ’ t like that at all. I wanted him. That ’ s never happened to me. I ’ m one of the lucky ones.’

I ’ m one of the lucky ones.

Some of the tension in my head releases, and I feel a moment of complete and utter relief for my sister.

‘ Thank fuck, ’ I breathe pulling her into a hug so tight I ’ m afraid to let her go.

It ’ s not right knowing that so many other women have suffered and are suffering out there, but just for now, I squeeze my little sister a little tighter, knowing that she doesn ’ t have that demon to battle.

Her palms bat against my sides. ‘ All right you big sop, get off of me. ’ I don ’ t let her go, though. For some reason meeting Fauna has had some knock-on effect on me, and I have become all sentimentally emotional. ‘ Ru, I can ’ t breathe, you big fucker. ’

Quickly I release Isla as I remember she is probably not in the right condition for me to be squeezing her so tightly. I ’ m not sure she ’ d be very impressed with me referring to her pregnancy as a condition, but at least I ’ m caring enough to think about it.

I apologise just as the door bursts open, and a woman with hot pink hair stops in her tracks. Both hands are full, and I realise the abruptness of the door opening resulted from her kicking it open with her boot, and by the sudden movement, it was a decent force she used.

Despite the welcoming my little pony look she has going on, this woman is anything but. I manage to dodge a plate that flies my way, but some liquid splatters the shoulder of my leather jacket. Forget liquid; by the quick glance I manage to get in, it holds more of a slim-like texture.

‘ Get out! ’ The unfriendly unicorn woman screams — banshee style — and I dodge the second plate of slime.

A chair comes at me next, and I catch it with ease.

My sister mumbles an ‘ aw fuck ’ as she wrestles another chair out of the pink-haired woman ’ s hands. Forget a unicorn — a deranged rhino would more accurately describe her with the way she is ready to charge straight through me.

Maybe I shouldn ’ t have been so worried about my little deer and Isla. This woman doesn ’ t seem to shy away from danger, and I know from experience that neither Fauna nor Isla do.

‘ Luna, calm down! ’

Luna is most definitely too whimsical of a name for this absolute hothead of a woman.

‘ Get out of here before I tear your skin from your face and wear it like my own mask, you creepy as fuck Skull! ’

Luna is most definitely more of a murderous Looney Tunes character than a My Little Pony.

‘ He ’ s my brother! ’ Isla roars, and Luna stops trying to pull the leg off of a table. She probably intended to use it to impale me and use my body as one of her voodoo dolls or something.

‘ Come again? ’ Luna pants, gaze darting between mine and my sisters.

When we were younger it wasn ’ t unusual for us to be mistaken for being twins.

Isla had hit puberty early, and in a painfully ironic fashion, I did not hit it until I was sixteen, adding to my bammy persona.

My bullies quickly shut up when I grew into a man.

I ’ d been working hard at the gym for a while, and once my body decided to develop, I began to pile on the muscle and gained the height to match it.

They ’ d tried to act like nothing had happened, like their behaviour was all part of some joke I had agreed to.

Unfortunately for them, I wasn ’ t the forgiving type — I ’ m still not.

Vish and I formed The Skulls not long after I got revenge; we saw it as the perfect timing to follow through on the dreams we had been imagining.

‘ He ’ s my brother, so can you please hold off on the crazy for a second and not go making hasty actions like tearing his skin from his face? I can barely cope with looking at his ugly mug as it is. I don ’ t think I ’ d be able to cope if you wore it too. ’

Luna at least has the decency to give me a grimace. ‘ In my defence how was I supposed to know. ’

I shrug in agreement. It ’ s not exactly common to have family reunions this long after the outbreak.

‘ Do you skin people ’ s faces quite often? ’ I ask.

Without blinking, Luna stares me straight in the eyes. 'You could say it is somewhat of a hobby. The screams of small pricked men are like a symphony to my ears. ’

Okay, this one is a psychopath.

‘ What Ru? Realising we aren ’ t a bunch of defenceless women? ’

‘ Something like that, ’ I mutter more to myself but judging by their smirks, they both hear me.

Isla ’ s observation reminds me of Fauna and how long it must have been. Just as I ’ m about to make a move for the door another set of voices come from behind the psychopath with pink hair.

‘ What ’ s all the racket for? ’

‘ Luna, you were only supposed to bring food. ’

‘ You better not be arguing, Fauna just got ba—’

One screams, another reaches for Isla, and the third pretty much throws herself in front of my sister's stomach. And for some reason, I smile, which understandably does nothing to calm them down. In fact, it makes them murderous.

A dagger comes uncomfortably close to my head, and I look towards the dark-haired woman whose hand is now gripped by my sisters. Isla is doing her best to stop her from throwing the other half of… is that scissors?

‘ He ’ s my fucking brother! Do not kill him. ’ Isla screams, annoyed now. ‘ How many fucking times do I have to say it. ’

Three sets of wide eyes look my way, taking in my appearance, and then narrow one by one.

How can a look from one group make me feel so uncomfortable?

I ’ ve faced down some of the scariest people over the years, but these women have me squirming uncomfortably, and it is ultimately all down to one woman: Fauna.