War (The Four Horsemen #2) - Laura Thalassa Page 0,111
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The phobos riders that live in War’s area of camp stop and stare (somewhat hostilely) at me and my macabre bodyguards as I pass them by. But the real looks come when I enter the main area of camp.
Men and women openly gape at me, their eyes darting from dead man to dead man. And the same children who I’ve seen handle weapons now scream and flee at the sight of the walking dead.
I’m regretting this trip already.
By the time I get to Zara’s tent, she’s already standing outside of it, her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.
“Why is it that I always hear about you before you arrive?” she says by way of greeting.
“I think I’m just unlucky.”
She eyes the dead men. “They’re not coming in my tent,” she warns.
I glance at them, suddenly unsure how I’m supposed to get them to beat it. “I’ve arrived,” I tell them. “You can back off now.”
In response, they spread out, flanking the area and causing a nearby woman to scream and drop the clothing she was washing. The rest of the women loitering along this row of tents watch us curiously.
Zara jerks her head towards her home. “Why don’t we chat inside?”
I follow her in, and in the dim, warm confines of her tent, I see Mamoon playing with some faded plastic toys and a well-loved teddy bear.
“Mamoon, say hi,” Zara says.
“Hi,” he replies without looking up.
Zara purses her lips together, and she looks a little like she wants to cry.
“How’s—” I jerk my head to her nephew, “it going?”
She sighs. “Hard. It’s really, really hard. But I have more than what most people here do, so I’m counting my blessings.” She takes a deep breath, her emotional walls coming up. “But that’s not what I want to talk about right now.” Her eyes move over me. “Where have you been for the last week? You disappeared on me.”
I don’t want to say it, I really, really don’t.
Her eyes pass over me again. “You screwed him, didn’t you?”
I sit down hard and nod.
“Yeah.” I fucked him good.
“Well?” she adds. “Was it worth it?”
I glance at her nephew.
“He has no idea what we’re talking about. It’s fine.”
Not so sure about that …
“So?” Zara presses. I can’t tell if she’s angry. She sounds annoyed, and she seems a bit on edge, but then again, ever since I’ve known her, Zara’s always been a bit edgy.
I give a humorless laugh. “You mean did I enjoy it?” I give her a look. “Yes. I did.” It’s problematic how much I’ve enjoyed it.
“And now you feel guilty?” she asks.
I level a look at her. “Naw …”
The corner of her mouth curves into a sardonic smile. “I don’t judge you, you know,” she says, sitting down next to me.
I chew on my lower lip. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” I say.
She takes my hand, squeezing it tightly. “You convinced that beast to save—” Her voice breaks. Zara nods to her nephew. “War’s killed everyone I loved—except for one person, and that was only because you got through to him. So no, I don’t blame you for screwing the monster, though I’m sorry you’re the one forced to do the deed. I’d sooner saw his balls off, myself.”
I give Mamoon another desperate look, sure that between me and Zara we’re corrupting the poor boy’s ears.
“He saw his parents killed, he’s walked by executions, and now dead men are standing guard outside his tent,” Zara says. “A little sex talk is the least of my worries.”
Fair point.
“I made War a promise not to get in his way, and as much as I hate it, I intend to uphold that promise,” my friend continues. “So have your way with him and don’t think I’m going to cast my judgment on you or walk away from our friendship. I owe you a debt I can never repay. And who knows, maybe you’ll end up saving someone else’s little boy because of your … relationship.”
I give her a tight smile.
“Just don’t avoid me,” she finishes. “I missed your company.”
“Okay,” I say softly.
And that’s the end of the sex talk—at least for now.
For the next couple hours, Zara and I talk about everything and nothing. I could’ve sat with her and chatted the entire day away, but eventually my friend drags me and Mamoon out of the tent, towards a group of women gathered several tents down.
Mamoon keeps giving the zombies around us wide-eyed looks as Zara leads him on.