Of Blood and Bone (Chronicles of The One #2)(82)

Wind, cold and stiff, blew over them, but in it Duncan caught the scent of waking spring.

In his mind flashed an image of Fallon, face illuminated as she danced around a bonfire. A crown of white flowers over her dark hair.

“She wanted to stay.”

“What?”

“Crap,” he blurted; he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. “She wanted to stay. It’s something I felt from her. Yeah, there’s a connection. I felt it when I looked up at her right before she went poof. She wanted to stay and fight, but … it wasn’t time.”

“One thing’s for sure, if it hadn’t been time for her to show up tonight, a lot of us, maybe most of us, wouldn’t be heading home.”

“How the hell did she know? That’s my question.”

“We’ve both had visions,” Tonia reminded him.

“Have you ever had one so clear and detailed you could draw a damn map? A really accurate map.”

He wanted that skill, too. Coveted it.

“It’s like she’d been inside that base. She knew how many guards were posted at the prison, knew about the fuel tanks.”

“And blew the hell out of them,” Tonia added, full of cheer. “We’re not The One, Dunc. She knows more because she is more.”

To his mind, he would want more than an hour, no matter how successful, to be sure of that.

When they crossed into New Hope, Tonia went with the team to debrief, treat, and house those who’d been imprisoned or enslaved. He expected Hannah would spend most of the night at the clinic.

A lot they’d brought in were in bad shape.

He went with another team to transfer the confiscated weapons to their armory.

As Will went to interrogate Patrick, Duncan didn’t expect to see him again until the next day. But in under an hour, Will came into the armory.

“Did that rat bastard confess?” Duncan demanded. “And what the hell do we do about him?”

“No, and we’re going to bury him.” Will paced the length of the room. “The son of a bitch. The son of a bitch hanged himself in his cell.”

Eddie let out a sigh. “Well, hell, Will, maybe that’s the best thing all around. Now we don’t have to decide what to do about him. It’s done.”

“I needed to talk to him.” Vibrating with frustration, Will pounded a fist into his palm. “I need to find out how they knew we’d scout just where we found him. How much more they know.”

“They’ve worked with Dark Uncannys before,” Eddie pointed out. “Those fuckers Eric and Allegra. We thought we’d killed them back in Pennsylvania, but they lived through it. Maybe they lived through what Lana hit them with after Max. Or they got another. Some of them have visions like Lana used to, some of ours do, too.”

“Maybe.” Will turned around, eyes cold in a weary face. “Or maybe we’ve got a spy.”

“Well, Jesus, Will.”

“We take people into the community. We’re taking more right now. Some may stay, some may move on.”

“We, you know, vet them pretty good.”

“Another couple of hours out there, Patrick would’ve died the day we found him.” Duncan worried at the germ of a thought. “Hannah told me, and she’d know. Rachel had to operate on him, and he had internal injuries on top of it. It’s why I had a hard time believing the girl—Fallon—at first.”

“True believer.” Will nodded. “He wouldn’t be the only one. We’ve seen the type before.”

“They’re half-crazy most of the time,” Eddie pointed out. “We’d notice half-crazy.”

“I’d like to think so.” Will rubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t know which to hope it is. Either way, we’re going to have to take more precautions.”

“We’ve already got magickal shields up, but we can add to them.” They’d work on that, Duncan thought. “If somebody working with the PWs is already inside the shield, we have to figure out how they’re getting information out.”

“Probably not a magickal. Yeah, they work with them now and then,” Eddie continued, “but mostly they don’t. They hate their ever-fucking guts. Sorry, Duncan.”

“I hate theirs back, so we’re good. Not that hard to get intel out, is it? You volunteer for a hunting party, a scavenger detail, or scouting. Or one of the farms. You leave a message at some checkpoint.”

“They have communications, too. We could have somebody with a radio, transmitting information. Let’s start there,” Will decided. “Add to the shields, start checking for transmissions, and I hate to say it, but take a closer look at anybody who’s come in and stayed in the last six months. One of the slaves—maybe more than one—could’ve been brainwashed, indoctrinated.”

He walked to the window, stared out. “If Fallon hadn’t warned us … I’d’ve led us into a massacre.”

“You don’t take that on,” Eddie began, and with considerable heat.

“I took the job, I take it on. Now I’m going to bury the son of a bitch I thought we’d broken down enough to give us information on how to free slaves and prisoners.”

“He did give it. I’m with Eddie on this, Will. He screwed with all of us. We believed him because he told us the truth. Most of it. I’ll help you bury him.”