Ashes: Nine Lies, #2

ASHES

NINE LIES BOOK 2

Z. A. Coe

Copyright © 2018 Z. A. Coe

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Scripture quotations marked KJV are taken from the Holy Bible, King James Version (Public Domain).

Cover Images:

© Lambros Kazan / Adobe Stock

© ia_64 / Adobe Stock

For Alex—

The impact of the wisdom that you shared with me

didn’t die with you. Instead, it has grown.

And for JC,

who taught me that death isn’t the end of the story.

ASHES

The weak don’t deserve to die. They deserve to be protected.

—Miranda Lee

ONE

Scarlet.

Drenching his sleeves.

Running down his face.

Leaking from his side.

Strangling his ankle.

The terrible, deafening roar.

No—no—

It was the saw—

No…

The wooden handle of the kitchen knife against the heel of his hand.

The thud of bone and vessel, organ and flesh, blood and stone grinding through his calloused skin.

The pool of crimson framing the old face beneath him, blossoming like lilies over water.

The hatred and the fear snuffed out.

The light eclipsed by death.

He’d done it.

He’d killed Avery.

Avery.

At long last. Dead.

So why didn’t it feel good? Why was there no relief? He’d forgotten something…something immensely important…something that mattered more than anything…

It was the reason he had come here.

It was the reason…the reason he had won…the reason he had lived.

But what was it?

It was just beyond his grasp…just out of reach…

Beyond the corpse of Avery were only shadows…shadows and the sickening firelight beyond the hearth…

A boy…a gun…

Miranda.

Panic ripped his heart to pieces—

The boy—the gun—

MIRANDA—NO—you have to stop it—you have to you have to—

No. It’s too late. It’s already done. You can’t save her anymore.

No—you can’t live without her—you can’t—YOU CAN’T—

He burst up from the dingy mattress, heaving like a fish on land, and his good arm moved automatically before his vision even registered the shaking barrel of the gun between his eyes.

His fingers gripped the trembling hands that clutched it so unsteadily.

Two blue eyes were peering at him from the other side.

They’re like Miranda’s eyes.

No. They were nothing like Miranda’s eyes.

Sweet, beautiful Miranda…

No.

These eyes were terrified but desperate to compensate for fear with burning hate.

Boy, growled Felix hotly, you can’t aim to save your life. You think I wanna die by your sloppy hand?

The boy swallowed audibly and tried to stagger back—

Felix yanked him in. Don’t you ever touch my gun, he hissed into Sasha’s face. He pried it from his sweating fingers and shoved the boy away.

It ain’t yours, spat Sasha. He told me about yours. How you near handed it to him when you was so scared he was gonna kill you—

Felix sat up straight and swung his legs onto the floor, ignoring the gut-wrenching pain it triggered in his side.

Immediately the boy shrank back.

I didn’t hand it to him, Felix shot.

He said you cried every time he—

You want somebody to cry? Felix stood up, grimaced from the agony exploding in his ankle. Took a step closer to the child.

The boy stepped back.

I’m just sayin’ it ain’t yours, said Sasha finally.

Felix eyed him. He was trembling. But trying to be brave.

Just like you used to do.

But Avery always knew how weak you were.

He always knew.

The man I took it from is dead, said Felix, staring hard into his eyes. Now it belongs to me.

I killed people too, you know, said Sasha, but as soon as the words charged out his body stumbled back, as if he knew that he was dumping gas onto a fire.

Felix’s chest tightened. One, you mean.

Seems like she was worth a lot.

Felix’s hand shot out and the boy leapt back, raising both his arms.

But Felix caught himself.

He’s just a boy. A boy like you once were. He thinks you’ll hurt him if he isn’t tough. Don’t let yourself turn into Avery.

Felix sighed and turned away.

You don’t know anything, he murmured, tucking the gun inside his belt and easing back down on the dirty makeshift bed.

I know how weak you are, said Sasha, keeping his distance. An’ I know the things that scare you most.

Good for you. Felix glared at him. That’s how people end up dead.

TWO

Felix glared between the boards that had been nailed across the window. The snow hadn’t let up. It was still coming down in buckets.

Lyme is out there. Looking for you.

It kicked him in the chest. He had known it all along, hadn’t he? That CO9 would come for him. That happiness and freedom with Miranda were never meant to be.

He pulled out the palette knife he’d taken on the day she died.

Her palette knife.

Stared hard at the reflection on its blade, as if somehow the fog would part and show her eyes instead of his.

But the only gaze he saw was guilty. The gaze of a murderer and the man responsible for sweet Miranda’s death.

He had never once been worthy of her. Not even for a fleeting second.

You knew. Deep down, you knew.

And now Miranda’s dead.

He grit his teeth and pulled back from the window. Flinched at the reflection in his hand and set the palette knife down on the sill. He couldn’t think about Miranda…

You didn’t even save her body. You left it there for them to—

What was he supposed to do? They were lucky to have gotten out at all. Lucky that Lyme hadn’t come before they’d left.

What he wanted was to leave the city. To get somewhere far, far away from Saevus so CO9 would feel no need to follow him. So catching him would be more trouble than whatever he was worth.

Nothing. You’re worth nothing.

But the snow…nobody was going anywhere while it was coming down like this.

Lyme will follow you. It will be easy for him in this snow.

Yes and no. He’d been bleeding profusely when he’d dragged Sasha out. Had barely been able to maneuver himself through the drifts with Sasha kicking and scratching at his arm. With all his inconvenient injuries. He had definitely left a trail. But the snow had kept on falling as he went, covering their tracks, and he had kept them moving. Stopping only to rinse the blood out of his clothes in a forsaken public bathroom and then procure what he would need to mitigate his wounds.

They had spent the first night in the old shipping warehouse behind C Street. He’d tied Sasha up so he could tend the bullets in his arm and ankle and stitch the knifewound in his side, but the boy had stared relentlessly while he had worked. Scrutinized the barely ascertainable tattoo of the cat o’ nine tails that clawed across his back. Counted every whipmark. Every scar. He’d watched everything Felix had done with what seemed to be both awe and horror—with one exception. He had cringed and shut his eyes when Felix had stabilized his ankle. It could barely take weight with the way the bullet had blown through, but he needed to be able to walk, to fight, to flee. He had braced himself and done what was necessary. He had used the giant staple gun, left beside one of the crates, to bind his broken bones together. Miranda would have called it destiny, that there had been a staple gun that still had charge left in its battery, in exactly the time and place where he most needed it. Miranda would have told him he was meant to live.

Meant to live for what? She’s dead and you can’t live without her…

Felix felt his jawline tighten as he clamped down on his thoughts.

A gust of wind howled past the boards and he drew back.

He couldn’t think about her anymore.

Everything she’d done and said…none of it could matter now.

Liar. You’ll never be the same because of her.

A sudden shuffling behind him drew his eyes to Sasha.

The boy was struggling against the ropes Felix had used to bind his wrists together around the iron beam that held the ceiling up. Struggling pitifully.

He’s only eight. What do you expect?

He had only been eight, too.

He had learned fast not to struggle.

Not to defy Avery.

Felix turned back to the window.

So much snow had fallen since they’d left the shipping warehouse. By now their tracks would be well covered. But his ankle had been agony after the staples. It had held him but the pain was like a bomb exploding through his brain over and over again. They hadn’t been able to travel very far. They were in another warehouse, this one on 16th. This place had clearly been set up by other squatters long before he’d come here with the boy—there was a dirty mattress, several moldy sheets, and two thick blankets, both of which he’d given Sasha. Used syringes littered the cold floor and rubber tourniquets, spoons, and matches had been scattered everywhere.

But he had been able to tell, by the food trash and the reeking bucket they’d been using as a chamber pot, that the usual occupants hadn’t visited for several days.

Felix wouldn’t dare to stay here very long, but it was an adequate hideout for now. They had everything they needed to survive and—hopefully—Lyme hadn’t followed them.

But it was cold.

He glanced back at Sasha.

Shivering in his rags. Red gnawing at his wrists from where the ropes had bitten into him.

His eyes were glassy and he kept taking huge gulps of air, then choking them down into his chest like they were the only way to hold himself together. His skin was pale and his lips were slightly blue. His small frame looked terribly malnourished.

Avery won’t have fed him. He’s probably had nothing more than milk and bread for days or weeks now.

Felix grimaced. Remembered how it’d hurt to be so hungry all the time while his body had kept growing, relentlessly stretching itself thinner and taller over his sore bones.

He stared back through the boarded window. The snowstorm was working itself up into a blizzard. His injuries would slow him down and maneuvering through all the snowdrifts would be tedious, but he needed to go out and get some food.

He sighed and approached Sasha.

Immediately the boy froze, then pressed his back against the icy beam.

Felix leaned in close—a sob escaped the boy and a sudden splash of tears ran down his cheeks—and loosened up the knots behind the beam. Then he pulled back from the boy and watched.

Sasha was shaking, but he furiously wiped his face and grabbed his wrists, one at a time, and rubbed the crimson circles scraped around them.

Go to the bathroom, Felix said, nodding to the bucket in the corner.

Sasha’s small body contracted slightly as he staggered up.

He hasn’t moved in hours and it’s freezing. His limbs have probably gone numb.

Sasha stumbled to the bucket, but his shoulders tightened when he turned around and saw Felix was watching.

Felix glared a warning at him.

Shrinking, the boy turned back and did his business, and Felix got the rope and waited by the beam.

There was the soft catch of a zipper and then Sasha turned around again—

His eyes slipped to the rope and then to Felix, and suddenly more tears were streaming down his face. He inched backwards, and Felix could see that he was fighting to suppress a powerful emotion. Please…

Felix took a step in his direction and the boy’s whole body snapped rigid.

I’m going out, said Felix.

The boy stepped back again, shaking his head miserably.

The last time I left you untied you tried to kill me, Felix said.

I ain’t gonna do nothin’…I promise…

I can’t let you out of my sight unless I tie you up.

Sasha’s head bobbed up and a desperate boldness edged his voice. Then take me with you.

Felix frowned at him. So you can run away?

Anger broke through Sasha’s gaze, but then more tears spilled out. You’d be glad if I did, the way you hate me—

Felix took another step forward and the boy immediately clamped his mouth shut and went stiff. You think I should have left you there? So Lyme could come and find you alone with all those bodies?

The boy dry heaved into the bucket.

You should have covered his eyes. He acts tough, but he’s just a child.

Sasha had thrown up—barely anything, but all he had—when Felix had dragged him through the headless corpses on the floor. Had gone limp for a few moments when the shock that surely it was Felix who had killed them all reverberated through his bones.

You know who Lyme is, boy? said Felix then.

Sasha was shivering next to the bucket, clutching at the rags around his arms. He’s the meanest one. Sasha hugged his body tighter. The one they say can’t die. Then he dared to lift his gaze to Felix. But Avery said you’re scareda Lyme. When Lyme comes you can’t even think straight.

And what would he have done when he got back and saw that Avery and all the other men were dead? Who would he have punished? Whose boy would you become?

Sasha’s shoulders crept up to his ears and his frame shrank.

He’s out there right now. Looking for us. If you run away you’re worse than dead. Felix stared hard at the boy. You understand me?

Sasha stared down at the floor, his posture in defeat. Yes, sir.

Felix cringed. Remembered how often Avery had smacked and shouted at him when he was a boy. How painfully he had been taught to show respect and know his place. Don’t call me sir, he said to Sasha.

Avery said—

I’m not Avery, Felix shot.

Sasha stood there for a moment, blinking in the cold, then finally said, I jus’ wanted you to know I mennit.

Felix looked at him. We’re not in CO9 anymore, he told him carefully. We’re not playing by their rules.

Sasha’s brow furrowed and his ear nudged down toward his shoulder. His freezing fingers touched the cold edge of the metal collar that had been welded around his neck. Avery said ain’t nobody can ever leave.

Felix swallowed. Felt the thick bite of his own collar dig into his throat and spoke as much to himself as to the boy. Avery’s dead. You don’t have to listen to him anymore.

A growl emanated from Sasha’s stomach.

Felix sighed and his eyes drifted to the rope still in his hand.

Immediately Sasha’s body started trembling again and tears began to fill his eyes. Please don’t… he whispered. I’ll do anything—

Don’t make promises like that, said Felix. You’re just a kid. You don’t know how bad the world is yet. There are a lot of anythings you should never volunteer to do.

Yes, s— Sasha caught himself. I mean…okay.

Felix sighed again. The boy’s demeanor had changed drastically. He seemed to understand that Felix was the lesser of two evils and it was in his best interests to behave properly for him. Maybe it would be okay.

It will never be okay.

Remember how things ended the last time you were stupid enough to start believing that—

If you try anything, Felix began, but Sasha interrupted him.

Then you can whip me.

Something stung between Felix’s ribs. It was a stabbing, burning pain but he knew it wasn’t physical. It had produced a lump under the collar and something terrible and tragic was clawing deep inside his throat.

You used to promise things to Avery. You used to tell him you’d be good and you’d do better. You used to offer your whole self to him, body and soul, in hopes that someday, someday, he’d be pleased with you or—even though it was impossible—maybe just a little proud. You used to tell him he could punish you if you weren’t good enough, because you wanted so much to be good.

You believed back then that if you wanted something badly enough you could find some way to earn it.

But you were never good enough.

And Avery always relished hurting you for your inadequacies.

I don’t have a whip, said Felix quietly.

You should have taken Avery’s.

He hadn’t had his head on straight.

He’d been overcome with grief—

Then… The boy tensed. Glanced around.

Stop, said Felix.

Sasha bit down on his lip and nodded.

He’s trying so hard to be good.

Felix sighed. If you try to kill me again—

I won’t—

Or run away—

I promise I’ll stay jus’ where you can see me—

The boy had stopped abruptly, as if expecting Felix to interrupt him again, but neither of them spoke. Instead their eyes were locked, and both seemed to be gauging who had less resolve.

At last Felix broke the silence with another sigh. He tossed the rope at the base of the beam and Sasha’s body immediately relaxed a bit.

Don’t do anything to draw attention to us, Felix said. You can be sure that Lyme is always watching.

The snow shadowed the world like ashes crumbling from an apocalyptic sky.

The wind, however, seemed to have dropped dead.

Felix kept Sasha in front of him. Let him cut the path through the thick snow until they’d reached a small ravine in the white mountain. A trail carved out by some merciful neighbor or diligent business owner with a shovel and, most assuredly by now, a backache.

Left, he said to Sasha when the path broke to a T. There was a dumpster on 14th, a special one for charities. It was marked to receive clothing that would later be distributed to needy children. No doubt the discarded garments had already been collected in preparation for Christmas, but maybe there had been a few latecomers.

Stop here, he said to Sasha when they reached it.

Sasha’s face was waxy and his fingers had gone blue.

Felix frowned. Neither of them had a coat, but the numbness creeping through his legs from walking through the snow was comforting for him, a way to distance the throbbing of his injuries. For the boy, however, it was only furthering his body’s trauma.

Felix slid open the dumpster’s tiny door and peered inside.

A heap of tangled fabric lay abandoned in one corner.

Miranda would say this was destiny.

His heart ached at the thought of her.

He stared at Sasha. The boy who killed Miranda.

Who had no idea what he had taken.

Adrenaline began to pump through Felix’s chest and his fingers began trembling.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know.

It’s not his fault.

Wasn’t it? He had pulled the trigger. Over and over again, he had done it—

You killed a nine-year-old—

Felix slammed the tiny door so hard the dumpster shuddered.

He’s the same as you.

Miranda wouldn’t hate him.

She would understand that he’s been suffering.

Mister, Sasha murmured.

Felix’s reply exploded out of him. I’m not sir and I’m not mister! You know my name, don’t you?

The boy contracted and shrank back. F-Felix…Felix Black…

Felix stared hard at him, the anguish smoldering in his eyes.

Finally the boy began to straighten and continued. Just…can I…can I pet the dog?

Dog? Felix frowned and glanced around.

You’ve been getting sloppy. Not observing your surroundings.

He had a lot on his mind—

Lyme won’t wait for you to pull yourself together—

He blinked the voice out of his mind. There really was a dog. This dumpster was behind a school, shut down for the holidays, but out across the soccer field—a blanket of sheer white—there was a bulge of yellow fur and a tail wagging back and forth.

It was watching them. Cocking its head.

Don’t touch it, Felix said.

It wagged its tail at me, said Sasha.

Maybe it’s as hungry as you are, said Felix, glaring at the boy, and thinks you’d make a meal.

Sasha glanced at Felix, then back at the dog. "I bet it is hungry," he said.

Can you fit in here? Felix asked, opening the little door again.

Immediately Sasha froze. Tears began to fill his eyes. Mister—Felix—it’s so cold—please don’t make me go in there—don’t leave me inside—

Twelve.

He was fighting with every ounce of strength he had but they were stronger—so much stronger—

The wet was running down his legs—her blood was smeared across his chest—her arms—her legs—her eyes they hadn’t closed he couldn’t look—

No—NO—PLEASE!!! Please don’t put me in the box! PLEASE—

SMACK

SMACK SMACK SMACK

blood salt tears flesh bone—

No—

Gloves around his neck, pressing into him, choking him, choking him—

Flailing—struggling—

You learn to clear your head, boy. You learn not to get emotional.

A straw—long and rough—jammed deep into his throat—threaded through the lid—

nopleaseNOPLEASE

CRACK

the darkness all around

the darkness the darkness the dark—

Something wet was on his fingers—

No—

He lurched back—

You’re okay. You’re twenty-nine. You’re strong and Avery’s dead.

He blinked—blinked furiously—

White—everything was white—

The wet was dragging over his hand again—

It’s okay. Breathe.

It was a dog—the dog—

The breath came into him again. He was behind the school with Sasha—

Miranda is dead…

Behind the school with Sasha to get clothes…

And then he realized what had happened.

He stared at the dumpster with new horror.

Again the wet against his hand—

Stop, he said out loud, staggering back from the dog.

The dog sat down right where it was and wagged its tail at him.

That dog knows how to obey.

So what. Maybe it’d been owned before.

It knows that it was born for nothing else but to be owned. It knows how to please its master.

SO WHAT! There was no going back to CO9. There was NO GOING BACK—

There is no going back, but Lyme will come for you. And then you’ll wish that you had been content with living like a dog.

Felix squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again. Breathed the terror out. Slowly, slowly.

Turned to Sasha.

The boy was watching him, confused and terrified.

Again Felix breathed. In, out, in, out. Then finally he spoke, and puffs of air came out of him like dragon smoke. I won’t leave you in there, he told Sasha. But it’s too small for me.

Sasha’s teeth were chattering but he still answered. You promise?

Promises don’t mean anything, said Felix.

Avery said that, too, said Sasha.

But he stepped forward anyway.

Felix backed up in the snow a bit so Sasha could approach.

You’ll never have dry socks again.

You was Avery’s before me, wasn’t you? asked Sasha carefully, only glancing sideways at Felix as he climbed the dumpster.

Yes, said Felix quietly, even though he knew Sasha already knew.

Sasha had reached the door and was leaning into it with his pale elbows on the ledge. He stared inside, then turned to Felix. Did Avery make you stay inside a dumpster? Is ’at why you got so scared jus’ now—

Violence snapped inside of Felix and his body rose to shut the boy’s infernal mouth—

No. Don’t turn into Avery—

He breathed out and held his body back. Don’t ever ask me that again, he said to Sasha, and his voice came out harder than steel and sharper than a knife.

Sasha’s mouth opened to reply, but Felix silenced it with a blazing glare.

Trembling, Sasha dropped inside the cavern of the dumpster.

Get the clothes, said Felix, and when the boy had gathered them, he helped him out.

The dog wagged its tail and approached Sasha when he landed, and Sasha ran a cold hand over the animal’s warm back.

Felix glowered at him.

He ain’t eatin’ me, Sasha said.

Stop petting the dog and see what fits you, Felix said.

Then Sasha’s small eyes widened. They’s for me? he asked, incredulous.

Hurry up, said Felix, suddenly aware of how long they’d been standing in one place. The snow hadn’t stopped falling, but their tracks would still be fresh.

The boy’s pale face broke into a smile, and again his blue eyes filled with tears.

There were two pairs of pants that fit him, a corduroy set that seemed a little snug and a pair of jeans that seemed a little big. Wear both of them, Felix told Sasha. It’s cold.

A long-sleeved T-shirt, a short-sleeved T-shirt, a fleece jacket—that one had some room to grow—and a coat fit, too.

Sasha wore them all together and seemed delighted to find the coat included gloves and mittens in its pockets and a hat tucked in one sleeve.

Last, but not least, there were six pairs of warm, thick socks. They were too small for Felix but just right for a child. Sasha wore two pairs but found his shoes wouldn’t go on after he tried a third.

Keep the extras in your pockets, Felix told him.

Sasha couldn’t stop grinning the whole time they cut through the soccer field.

When will you start smiling, too?

How could he smile when Miranda was dead?

Wouldn’t she want you to smile?

She’d wanted lots of things, but not all of them were realistic.

But what about you? asked Sasha suddenly.

Felix looked at him.

Ain’t you cold without a coat?

Felix grimaced. Coats were for mentors. And he would never be a mentor. Avery never let me have a coat, he said. I’m used to it.

Sasha’s shoulders shrank and he stared down at his new clothes.

They continued on across the field in silence with the dog padding behind them.

I told you not to pet the dog, said Felix when they’d reached the other side. Now it thinks that it can follow us. It had left its own trail in the snow behind them the whole way.

What’s wrong with it followin’ us? Sasha asked.

We don’t need anybody else following us, murmured Felix.

He seems like a nice dog, Sasha said, petting it again. The color seemed to splash into his cheeks faster as he did.

And it’ll go the way of all nice things. It’ll end up dead because of you.

No. More likely they would end up dead because of it.

Come on, he told the boy. And pay attention.

They were coming out onto a main road now. Not too many cars were out, and those that were were spinning tires in the white, but there was evidence of futile and repeated shoveling and heavy foot traffic leading to the covered station entrance. The subway was the only form of transportation that would still be working normally in all this snow, and there were bound to be more bodies cramming on the cars than usual.

At least it isn’t rush hour.

Felix kept his eyes peeled for any signs of people that he wouldn’t want to meet. The Blackstone Plaza station marked the edge of CO9 territory and the beginning of the Megas’ turf…and Lyme would follow them no matter where they went.

He tugged his shirt up higher. The collar was a dead giveaway that he belonged to CO9. Even if the Megas didn’t know his face or had heard that he was dead, they would still attack on sight. He’d left the coin with Judd Mann’s corpse. They’d know what group had killed their leader’s favorite son.

Keep your collar covered, he said quietly to Sasha as they stepped on the escalator.

Felix glared at the dog as it bounded down the stairs beside them.

It will follow you ’til kingdom come.

His ankle was throbbing furiously but the escalator gave him some relief. The steaming smells of hot baking and scalding coffee drenched the frigid tunnel air.

Miranda cooked so well for you…

He took a deep breath and ignored the memories that kept trying to surge back.

There sure’s a lotta people here, Sasha whispered when they stepped off. Avery said stay away from people.

But there’s a lot of wasted food, said Felix. Even though beverages and snacks were allowed in closed containers, most people didn’t bring their leftovers into the cars. They ate in a rush and left in a rush, tossing what they couldn’t eat as they dashed off to catch