Page 18 of Hysteria Rises (Dark Falls Hollow #1)

THIRTEEN

HAYZE

Hours have gone by since word first broke at the compound about the discovery made by Cross and Malakai down at the river. The shock still hasn’t worn off.

We’re finally tucking into dinner—the firstborn sons and a few others—at the large table off the kitchen, each with a bowl of venison stew in front of us and a slice of crusty bread.

It’s definitely quieter than it usually is.

My eyes flick to the gathering room. The doors have been shut—ominously so—for the last twenty minutes.

The Collective—with the glaring exception of my father, Finneas—is no doubt discussing the situation we’ve found ourselves in.

My stomach churns, the rich stew not settling well in my stomach.

Malakai kicks me in the shin while shooting daggers at me with his eyes. “Why hasn’t Finneas had that damn bridge fixed before now?” In response, Gannon snorts with laughter, which gains him an elbow in his side from Mal. “It’s not fucking funny,” he bites out.

Beside Gannon, Dragan purses his lips and shakes his head. My dickhead brother could tell them both to shut the fuck up about it, but he doesn’t, instead choosing to ignore the jabs at our father.

I, however, haven’t missed the fact that both Malakai and Dragan seem to be ignoring one very important detail.

Forcing the appearance of thoughtfulness to my face, I swallow, then wipe my mouth with a napkin before gritting out, “Good fucking question, Mal.” My focus flicks between him and Gannon as I pause to give them an exaggerated roll of my eyes.

“Funny you’d bring that up, as I would have thought someone like, oh …

maybe your father would have noticed that the bridge was structurally unsound fucking ages ago, wouldn’t you? ”

Unlike Dragan, who lets out a loud guffaw, Rafe draws in a breath but chooses—wisely—not to get involved.

Cross tilts his head to the side, though, and after only a moment of consideration, grinds out, “I agree with Hayze,” then follows up with an unapologetic shrug.

“Oh, big fucking surprise.” Malakai aims a withering look in Cross’s direction. If Mal thought Cross would side with him on this, he’s sadly mistaken.

Cross shakes his head, a grim smile reaching his lips. “Mal, you know that piece of crap should have been replaced. We’ve been taking our lives into our hands every time we traversed it.” Pushing his chair away from the table, he leans back and folds his arms over his chest.

“Placing blame isn’t productive. The bridge is gone. Period.” I stop to rake my teeth over my bottom lip, meeting each of their gazes. Commanding their attention. Demanding their compliance. “We’ll wait for direction from the Collective, and then we’ll deal with it. As always.”

“The river”—Evren quietly murmurs—“I’ve never seen it like that before.”

It hasn’t escaped me that the younger man has been cautiously following the entire exchange.

Everything that’s been said has made him uncomfortable.

He’s a sensitive sort, much like his oldest brother.

More vulnerable than the others … and less able to voice his own opinion without fear of retaliation.

I meet Arrow’s eyes, hoping he understands my silent suggestion to pay attention to Evren. His gaze shifts to his brother, and he promptly puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. “We’re gonna get it fixed soon.”

I totally understand why Arrow would try to reassure his brother of that, but I also recall our fathers telling us stories about how long it’d taken to build it when they’d first come to this side of the mountain to live in hopes that they’d be able to start our commune inside the walls of the crumbling correctional facility that’d been erected decades before.

In fact, they’d spent months camping beside the river before they could even get to the dilapidated old building.

All we’ve ever known is that fragile footbridge …

and honestly, I think we’re all within our rights to be nervous about it.

But at the same time, it won’t help to fall apart the way Cross confided to me that Malakai did earlier.

I chew on the inside of my cheek, mulling over what I heard went down and wondering not for the first time what’s actually going on in Malakai’s head.

I rub a hand over my face, peering at him in my peripheral vision, and take note of his sour expression.

It’s more than that, though. He’s visibly agitated.

Unable to concentrate fully on what anyone is saying.

Gannon scowls. “How the fuck are we going to get supplies now?”

“Easy,” Mal huffs, “we aren’t.” A low-toned growl vibrates from deep within his chest. “We’ll have to make do for a while.” That statement sets off a round of grumbling, unhelpful comments, and groans of annoyance.

I hold up a hand. “Let’s not get worked up about it. First, the Collective has built-in fail-safes. We keep far more provisions on hand than we could possibly use in a few months until the next supply run.”

“The storeroom is chock-full of food and anything else we might need.” Arrow nods, continuing, “And we have plenty of food growing all the time in the greenhouse.”

I clear my throat, aiming a steely-eyed look at anyone who needs it. “Finneas has ensured we know how to hunt and fish—and taught us well. We’re built for survival.”

Just then, the door to the gathering room bangs open and Kiefer storms out, followed by Nolan and Henry.

All three maintain a rigid stance, their faces flushed and grim.

Warily, I allow my gaze to drag from one to the next in turn.

Henry looks the least lethal at the moment, but that doesn’t mean much.

I work my jaw to the side and draw in a breath as we wait for one of them to take the lead. This must feel strange to them for my father not to be present while we’re in the thick of what might be one of the most worrisome times I can recall for our commune. Fuck it. “I—”

And before I can formulate the question that’d been on the tip of my tongue, Nolan growls, “Cross, Hayze, Arrow, and Malakai. In there. Now.” He jabs a finger back toward the gathering room entry.

Like a trained fucking dog, I push my chair back, springing to my feet. The others do the same. “Yes sir,” I grit out as I make haste to do his bidding.

The four of us take places in front of the semicircle of chairs. We won’t be invited to sit. We aren’t considered equals. We haven’t earned it yet. This much, I understand. These are the rules we live by.

My attention snaps to the open doorway. The Collective has not yet followed. Instead, Henry’s low pitched rumble can barely be heard from just outside the room.

“Sounds like they’re getting some instructions for tomorrow’s dailies.” Beside me, Arrow’s eyes follow the action.

My jaw clenches and my teeth grind.

“What do you think’s going on?” Cross turns to me, a dark brow arching high on his forehead.

“Well, we can assume it’s one of three things.” I pause to drag in a breath. “The bridge, the girl, or my father.”

“Or a combo deal.” Malakai smirks, amused at his own words.

Only a fraction of a second later, though, his lips twist with irritation when the rest of us give him a blank stare.

He rolls his eyes. “Like— Oh, never fucking mind.” There’s some shit he says that, to this day, I’m still perplexed as to the meaning.

The door abruptly slamming shut behind the Collective as they enter cuts off all conversation.

We know better than to speak until they are seated, but more importantly, we’re to wait until they’ve addressed us.

The significance of my father’s empty chair isn’t something we can ignore. My stomach churns.

“We’ve agreed upon a couple things.” Nolan eyes me, his gaze raking over my features before he does the same with the other three firstborn sons. Wetting his lips, he continues. “One of those decisions was that we’re going to prepare you to step in for him as the fourth member of the Collective.”

My eyes widen. This is the role I’ve been groomed for since birth. I grasp the back of my neck, then give a short nod. I didn’t see this coming.

Henry simply stares at me, an indecipherable expression on his face, arms crossed over his broad chest, but Kiefer looks ready to spit nails. “We’re going to give it some time before we appoint the official new leader. Things are in … flux at the moment.”

I shift slightly, unsure what to make of his comment, but needing to gauge the others’ reaction to the decision.

It’s much what I expected: a mixture of easy acceptance from Arrow and Cross and annoyance from Malakai.

It’ll be worse from Gannon and Dragan—not fucking looking forward to the snide remarks when they catch wind of this.

I inhale slowly, tamping down the distaste at the thought of it.

In the end, this decision wasn’t up to any of us. We simply do as we’re told. That’s always been the way of things. “I’ll be who you need me to be. Thank you for your trust.”

Henry’s mostly tight-lipped, but he gives me an approving nod.

“Very well.” He lets out a gusting exhale before continuing.

“Malakai, Arrow, you’ll be with Kiefer and me tomorrow as we work to decide the best course of action to begin work on the bridge.

Hayze, you’ll have Cross with you to relocate Twenty-three to your father’s quarters where you’ll have access to his equipment.

” He juts his chin toward Cross. “Be prepared to sedate her again, and make sure everything is done in a sterile manner.”

Beside me, Cross nods, a hint of a smile twitching at his lips. “You got it. I’ll be ready.”

My brows draw together, confusion reigning when all three members of the Collective are silent for several moments. What’s this about? My chest goes tight with the wait for whatever is about to get shoveled in our direction.