Page 37 of King of Lies (Mayhem Manuscripts Season One: 1nf3ction #6)

Keaton

Madeleine was nowhere to be seen when we returned to the beach just after dawn the next day. “What do you think happened to her?” August asked. “Do you think she turned? Or do you think she saw sense and got the hell out of here?”

All I could muster was a shrug. If anyone should have empathy toward Madeleine, it should’ve been me, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about a girl who’d spoken of Serena with such callousness.

That, and I’d slept like shit the night before, tossing and turning beside August while he drifted off with no such problems. I knew searching for Serena in the dark would have been ludicrous, suicidal even, but knowing and doing were two very different propositions.

I’d thought Serena being dead was the worst possible outcome.

It wasn’t. Her being alive, or something close to it, while still being out there was ten times worse.

The bees raged inside me, buzzing louder with every single thought of her.

Each time I closed my eyes she was there: a little girl clinging to my hand so she wouldn’t get lost, a teenager confiding her first crush, a young woman biting her lip to stop herself from crying the day I left for the army.

“Keaton?”

“Huh?”

August’s expression told me he had something biting to say, but was holding it back. His restraint said more about my mental state than any words could. “I said we’ll start from here and work our way out.”

“That could take forever.” My voice sounded hollow, lifeless. If August had any sense, he’d leave me here and walk away. Get away from the misery. He didn’t deserve it. Nobody did.

“It’ll take as long as it takes.”

The bees buzzed louder. “I need to kill him.”

“And you will. He’s not going anywhere.” August turned to look up at the castle, the building even more imposing in the daylight. “One thing at a time.”

“One thing at a time,” I echoed. “Right.”

The day was long, filled with killing biters, but never the right ones.

No girl with long brown hair with an errant curl that could never be tamed.

No Madeleine either. If she’d returned to the castle, then we’d already made a misstep by announcing that Serena’s brother was nearby and asking questions. At least exhaustion forced some sleep on me that night, August wise enough to keep our conversations strictly practical.

Day two mirrored the first. Explore. Kill biters.

Keep moving. The bees liked it when I killed biters.

It made them calmer. The only change was dwindling food.

I didn’t care. Hunger didn’t matter to me.

That night, August and I had sex. It was soulless and mechanical, and left me riddled with guilt for not being better, for not being more.

On day three, we stumbled across a small community.

August turned on the charm, while I lingered in the background like a mute shadow.

Whatever he’d said earned us an invitation inside and an offer of seats.

Questions flew, mostly from August, and food was traded.

The meal they offered tasted like cardboard, but August’s easy smiles and jokes had them wrapped around his little finger.

Whether with the truth or lies, I didn’t know.

That would have required paying attention.

That same day we found the old wartime tunnels, abandoned but intact. Hidden behind an iron fence and free of biters, they were the obvious choice for a new base close to the beach. Once a museum, the relics inside provided enough distraction to lessen the weight of the silence between us.

Day four began with trouble from a horde of biters.

Despite the distance between us, August and I had formed an impressive team when it came to dispatching them, with no repeat of the near miss in the forest. I picked off those farthest away while he brought down the closer ones with well-aimed axe blows once the crossbow became useless.

I’d taken down three when a figure in the graveyard across the street caught my eye.

I lowered the crossbow and turned that way.

Finding himself forced to deal with more biters than planned, August let rip a string of curses, all of them less than complimentary.

“Jesus, Keaton! Give me a heads-up if you suddenly decide you’re tired, would you? ”

“It’s her,” I said quietly.

August turned to see what I was looking at. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She wore the same white robe Madeleine had, now ripped and torn and streaked pink with the rain that had transformed her. She seemed completely unaware of our presence.

I didn’t know how to feel, the mixture of emotions in my chest threatening to suffocate me if I let it. Grief. Rage. Guilt. Without meeting August’s eyes, I crossed the street, my steps slow.

Finding her had felt impossible. Yet here she was, only meters away. Relief should have been present, but it wasn’t. Only crushing sadness. August joined me at the graveyard wall as I kept staring. Serena’s stringy hair hung down, with no sign of the errant curl that had plagued her.

“She loved her hair,” I murmured. “When she was a teenager, she brushed it for hours. My parents wanted her to cut it, but she refused.”

“The memories won’t go,” August said quietly. “They’ll always be there. That’s what I tell myself when I think about how much longer my grandma might have.”

“Yeah…” I hefted the crossbow and aimed at Serena’s head. My hands trembled, and tears blurred my sight. One dart. That’s all it would take. But I couldn’t make my finger pull the trigger.

A hand pulled the crossbow down. “You don’t need to do this.”

“She’s my sister.”

“That’s why you shouldn’t.”

“She’s my responsibility. I let her down by not being there. I won’t do it again.”

“If it was my grandma, would you do it?”

I didn’t even have to think about the ridiculous question. “Of course.”

“Would you want me to do it?”

“No. I’d think you were the last person who should.”

His look said, there you go.

I lowered the crossbow. “Not with the axe. Use the knife and make it quick.” I knew I was making it more dangerous for August, but I just couldn’t bear her being treated like all the other biters.

August leaned his axe against the wall. Dagger in hand, he hopped over the wall. As soon as he was on the same side as her, Serena lifted her head. She looked like her, and nothing like her.

“I’m sorry,” I told her as she lunged for August. “I should’ve been there to stop you from going with him. I’ll never forgive myself for not being there.”

August sidestepped her attack, using a gravestone as an obstacle. Her answering snarl crushed my chest like a fist. She turned, ready to attack. But August was already behind her, blade slipping into her ear.

One swift motion. Done. And Serena lay lifeless.

My breath came in ragged pants, even though I hadn’t lifted a finger.

We buried her as deep as we could manage with bare hands beneath a blossom tree, marking her grave with a makeshift cross made of branches on which I etched her name.

Back in the tunnels, I cried. August surprised me by holding me instead of telling me to man up. I wasn’t sure I would have been so supportive had the tables been turned.

Much later, he sat beside me on the mattress, his hand warm on my thigh. “I’ve worked it out,” he said.

I pushed myself upright. “Worked what out?”

“How we get to him?”

“I’m listening.”

August only got halfway through his plan before I was shaking my head. “No. Absolutely not. This is my fight, not yours.”

He let out a weary sigh. “Think about it, would you? I’m the one who can infiltrate the castle.” August’s lips curved into a smile. “This is what I do. Let me bring him to you. Then you can do whatever you want with him.”

“How?” For the next few minutes, he laid out a plan. The problem was that it was full of holes.

“I’ll work it out.”

“You’ll work it out,” I echoed with a mocking edge to my voice.

Unfazed, August held my gaze. “The best plans are those that stay flexible. I’ll meet him, figure out what he wants, convince him I have it, and then lure him here.”

“And if Madeleine’s there?”

“Then I adapt. I make changes accordingly.”

I shook my head again. “There are too many moving parts. Too many ifs, buts and maybes. I can’t let you do that for me.”

August crossed his arms over his chest and looked amused.

“I hate to break it to you, but you don’t get to let me.

I’m doing this because it’s the only way.

Be grateful I shared the plan. I’m not used to having to do that.

” He pulled his T-shirt over his head, my gaze drawn to the smooth, candle-illuminated skin.

“Unless you’ve got a better plan. If so, I’m all ears. ”

A minute passed, and I had nothing.

“Well, then.” His fingers dropped to the fastening of his jeans. “I’ll go to the castle at dawn.” He grimaced as he peeled his jeans down over his lean thighs. “You know what the worst part is?”

“That you’re putting yourself in danger and I’m going to be doing nothing but sitting here and waiting?”

Naked now, August climbed onto the bed and straddled me. “No. That part’s fine.”

“What then?”

His lips twitched. “I won’t look good in that robe.”

“If they accept you.”

“They will,” he said with all the brash confidence I expected of him. “I’ll play them like a fiddle.”

“Like a what?”

“A fiddle. A violin.” He rolled his eyes.

“We should have brought that encyclopedia with us. You could’ve educated yourself while I’m gone.

” He went to climb off me, but I grabbed his hips and held him there.

“I’m not seducing you,” he said. “You’ve had a shitty day.

” He grimaced. “Not shitty. That doesn’t cover it. ”

“I thought you were good with words,” I teased.

“Usually. Just… not around you.”

That confession made me smile. “What if I want to be seduced?”

He leaned forward, planting his elbows on either side of my head and staring into my eyes. “Are you sure?”

I reached for him, fusing my mouth to his and only answering the question when I came up for air. “Very sure.”

I needed this, something that wasn’t biters, death, infection, or destruction. And if I really couldn’t dissuade August from his plan, he’d be gone tomorrow. Who knew when I’d see him again. I refused to think if, but that didn’t stop the possibility from lurking in the back of my head.