Flesh 02 Skin(78)

“So this is Blackstone,” she said.

“Yes.”

“It’s lovely.”

He grunted.

She kept smiling, though few smiled back. In fact, no one did. Some people passed by with their faces downturned, but some stared openly, their eyes hard. What the fuck? It felt a long way from nice to be studied that way. Ros did her best to be calm. So not everything here was Pleasantville. There seemed to be a whole lot of tension in the air. Fear lined people’s faces.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Why are people so …”

Sean didn’t meet her eyes. “How much did he tell you about the night we came here?”

“Um, that you killed your leader, Emmet. That he was a psychopath,” she said. “Nick wanted him dead too.”

Sean snorted. “Did he? Guess we’ll never really know, will we?”

“Nick is not a bad person.”

“He’s not a good person either.”

They passed through what a street sign designated Main Street. Crops grew where asphalt would once have been. Big, graceful jacaranda trees stood along the median strip running down the middle of the road. Shop windows were covered in curtains, now homes for people to live in. But a huge hardware store stood open, packed to the rafters with various goods. The place looked to be a veritable Aladdin’s Cave of survival treasures.

“You’re wrong,” she said.

Across the road a group of people stood gathered deep in conversation. Sean gave them a long, wary look. A sturdy, muscular young man turned and scowled at Roslyn and Sean. At Ros in particular. His face tensed and he looked at her like she’d personally massacred millions. Inspiring such hatred in someone she didn’t even know felt bloody unnerving. Being in Blackstone seemed like a truly bad idea all of a sudden. This place didn’t feel safe, no matter the wall keeping the infected out.

“What the hell is going on here?” she hissed.

“Quite a few people died that night. One of them was a man named Sam Cotter. He’d been holding the place together, but he got bit,” said Sean. “There’s been a lot of internal fighting since then. Seems like he was the only person that could get everyone to agree. Since then, the welcome mat hasn’t exactly been laid out to new comers.”

At the end of Main Street they turned left. The police station was surrounded by flowering bushes. A man with a sawn-off shotgun stood outside the front door on guard duty. Not so normal or pretty.

“Why do they need a guard?” she asked.

Sean shot her a look she couldn’t read. The guard nodded to Sean and held the door open. Inside it looked like a typical country police station. A counter and some chairs, and beyond was an office area. Lots of white walls and filing cabinets, a collection of old wanted signs. Off to the side, she could just make out the bars of a cell. Sean carried her straight through. Behind a desk a handsome blond young man sat cleaning a gun. But more importantly, where was Nick?

“Put me down, please,” she asked.

“Hey, Finn.” Carefully Sean set her down on her feet, holding her elbow steady while she found her feet. Sean was nice. “She wants to see him.”

“Why?” asked the cute, albeit serious, blond. His face was curious but not unfriendly. How refreshing.

Knees wobbling, she circumnavigated the Viking. Nick sat on the wide cot pushed up against one wall, his chin braced on his hands, staring off at nothing. Giddy delight filled her at seeing him.

“Nick?”

He blinked and turned his head. He didn’t smile back at her. “Roslyn. What are you doing here?”

A new big black bruise took up half his temple, sitting out in a swollen lump. He made no move to come to her, just sat on the stupid mattress giving her closed looks.

Like she couldn’t read him by now.

“What the hell happened to your face?” she yelled.

Nick sighed. He rose and strolled toward her, bracing a hand on the bars. “Calm down. It’s not like you haven’t done worse.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Don’t pout.” His fingers stroked over hers, wrapped around a length of cold metal. This was ridiculous. Unacceptable. “How are you feeling?”

“Why are you in here?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

“I wasn’t supposed to come back,” he said. “But, you know, this cell is better than being shot on sight. What are you doing out of bed, hmm? You still look really pale.”

“I’m fine.”

He frowned at her. Why not? People had been frowning at her all day. She’d started to get used to it. Hell, she frowned right back at him. “They threatened to shoot you on sight and you willingly chose to come here?”