Soulless (The Immortal Gene Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  Behind the door, I heard their bodies slamming into the steel, followed by wild gunshots and shouts. “Go around! We’ll cut them off.”

  “Don’t let them get away.”

  “You! Stay and blast that door open!”

  My own leg screamed in pain as I struggled to stand. I grabbed Diesel by his arms and strained to pick him up. “Come on. We have to move.” As I touched his back, I felt a sticky warmth run down his shirt. “Oh, shit! Oh, my God!” I used Vance’s jacket and wrapped it around him. Through clenched teeth, Diesel groaned and stood on shaky legs. Having no other choice, I forced Diesel into a walk as I used the wall as a guide out of the tunnel. All around us, gunshots rang along the throat of the passageway. With Diesel on one shoulder, the backpack on the other, I had no choice but to keep staggering forward with no clue what I was going to do next.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:

  We stumbled out of the tunnel’s hidden mouth and into a slush of weeds and shrubs. Behind the wall of the city gates and the arch of the hills, a mushroom of smoke dispersed into the grey sky. Diesel had enough mobility that he could walk unassisted as he caught himself on a tree. He gagged in his attempt to vomit but nothing but spit came out.

  The painkillers left me sluggish and drowsy. As I looked up, Diesel was inspecting his left shoulder where the knife had sliced into his back. His gingerly touched underneath his clothes and bought his hand back covered in red. I gave Diesel the rest of the painkillers and he swallowed a small handful.

  Not wanting to be caught half unconsciousness in the open, we both staggered down the hillside and made our way along the beaten path of the forest. Nature drank from the earth greedily, soaking up all of the heavy rain that had passed leaving not even a droplet for us. There was nothing left but dampened leaves beneath our shoes and a stretch of endless green. We walked and we walked, and we walked. As we struggled, we quickly became lost in the maze of stretched forest. I didn’t have the energy in me to keep walking as my body buckled in its refusal to go on. We looked for anything suitable to hide in. Even a shallow ditch would do.

  After who knows how long, we stumbled upon an abandoned car that had been swallowed beneath the regrowth. The windows were smashed and the shell of the vehicle rusted to the point the backdoors refused to open. Through the window frame, we carefully squeezed our bodies into the back seats. The crumpled sedan was hidden well beneath a small crowd of trees, providing both shelter and protection from the weather and passing people. I took the whole back seat, needing the long length to prop my leg up. Dirt and twigs littered the entire seat and floor but I was too exhausted to bother dusting it off. Diesel took the front and reclined it far enough the back of the chair was an inch from my face. I curled my hands under my cheek, tucking one leg to my chest and the other I kept straight. Blissfully, sleep pulled me under a heavy veil as the chirps of the forest life fell silent.

  Hours later, I woke to Diesel’s muttering. It was in the dead of the night and my body had frozen to the spot. The broken windows allowed the draft to roll over my body as each breath burned my cheeks with itchy chills.

  I tried to speak but my throat clenched up and my lips were too cold to move. I couldn’t even shift myself around or move my aching hand out from under my cheek. Unable to move, I laid there with my eyes closed all night and into the next morning. I couldn’t sleep as I allowed my mind to drift away to somewhere warm and dry when I heard a crack of a twig snapping. My eyes snapped open to an empty car.

  Struggling, I forced myself up onto my elbows but buckled when pain shot up from my leg. I reached down and gripped my thigh, hoping to squeeze the pain out. My muscles were tender and my make-shift bandage was soaked in dried blood. Carefully, I unbound the cloth and lightly peeled back my ripped pants. Unfortunately, the bullet hole in my pant leg was too small for me to see clearly. My heart trembled like a spooked bird and I collapsed back against the seat. The possibility of having to amputate my leg crossed my mind briefly, long enough to leave in the taste of fear in my mouth.

  I leaned over the side and pulled the backpack up onto the seat next to me. Inside, Vance had packed the tablet, a knife, some matches and rope. No food. No water. What the hell was Vance packing for? Dehydration cracked my lips. I managed to prop myself up on the car door and looked out the window. Nothing but quiet forest. Where did Diesel go?

  I slipped back down into the concave of the cushion. My forehead pulled as a headache sprung up from my temples. I closed my eyes to squeeze the pain back when there was a knock on the car door behind my head. I jerked around just as Diesel leaned in through the window with his arms resting on the sill.

  “You’re awake?”

  I peeked through the slit in my eye. “Where were you?”

  “Out.” He reached over and helped hoist my head up. He then held the lip of the canteen to my mouth and tipped the drink forward. I was surprised by the touch of chilled water. It tasted like dirt, but uncaringly, I skulled the mouthful.

  “Thank you,” I whispered as he eased my head back down. Diesel pushed off from the car and circled around to the front passenger door. After a few tugs, he yanked it open and shifted the passenger seat forward to allow himself room. I watched through half lidded eyes as he then climbed into the small gap between the chair and back seat and crawled on all fours on top of me. He carried a subtle smell of wood pine on him as though he had been wandering the woods for hours. I sat upwards when he took out his blade and started cutting at my pants over the bullet wound.

  I grabbed his wrist. “What are you doing?”

  “I need to check your leg,” he said. “Just relax.” With his other hand, he gently unhooked my fingers and eased my hand back. I propped myself up on my elbows, watching as he skilfully trimmed my pants to create a hole wide enough for him to see. He pulled the two sides apart and paused.

  I watched the concentration on his face, searching for a hint into his thoughts. Was it bad? Do I have to get my leg amputated? I wanted to ask but didn’t want to know the answer. Unable to stand it, I dropped head my back down and covered my eyes.

  After a long, deep breath, I asked, “Well?”

  “You’ll be fine.” He pulled back as I let my breath go. Thank God for that. Diesel then reached over and wrapped his arm around my waist. Easing backward, he lifted my body up and started to drag me from the seat toward the open door.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You have to come with me.”

  I didn’t argue as he carefully carried my injured leg, trying to steady me enough that I didn’t drop from his hand and slip out onto the forest floor. As soon as I was balancing on my one foot, blood rushed away from my head and I wavered uneasily. Diesel kept his arm firmly around my waist, propping me against him as he started to walk. We moved slowly as each hop took me five-to-ten seconds to master. The firm embrace from his arm ensured my balance, allowing me to drop my chin to stop myself from fainting.

  We must’ve walked for twenty minutes when I caught the sound of moving water. Beneath the grassy plains was a small stream that ran down the rocks and mud. The bottom of the stream was as deep as mid-calf and the width a bit wider than my waist. Diesel eased me down next to the stream as he squatted down beside me.

  “This is fastest part of the current I could find,” he informed and motioned toward where the clear water dropped over the rocks. “Take your pants off.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Take your pants off. You need to wash the wound.”

  “And you’re a doctor now?”

  “Yes, now shut up and just do it.”

  Reluctantly, I eased onto my back and held my hips upwards from the ground. Once I unbuttoned my pants and unzipped the fly, I eased my fingers around the worn hem and wiggled inch by inch out of the pants. Every two seconds, I checked to see where Diesel’s attention was, and without any sense of shame, he kept his eyes on me.

  “Enjoying the show?” I asked sarcastically.

  He cocked a g
rin but didn’t say anything. It was taking me a bit longer than I expected, especially when I had to bend my knees forward to pull the pant legs over my heels, my leg would buck in refusal.

  He sighed, “This is the lamest strip show I’ve ever seen.”

  “Shut up, perv.” I finally pulled my leg free as Diesel indicated to my underwear.

  “Those too.”

  “You wish!” I scoffed. “I’ll risk hyperthermia, thanks.”

  “So precious.” Diesel snorted. The pale flush in his cheeks had darkened under his eyes and thickened the five o’clock shadow across his jawline. The point on his nose and ears were flushed pink, pinched by the chilled air as his eyes vanished beneath the heavy, dark brown. “Get in.”

  “What will this do?”

  “It will clear your wounds, making sure there’s no infection.”

  “How do you know all of this?” I asked.

  “I was once stabbed a few times in the back and then thrown into a shallow well to die. Infection is not fun.”

  I glanced up at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Have you had a single life time where you weren’t brutally murdered?”

  Diesel grinned. “What’s the point in living if you don’t make some enemies along the way?”

  “What? A peaceful life too boring for you?” I snickered. “Sounds like you weren’t too popular.”

  He smiled wider. “Depends who you ask, with some people I was very popular. What’s with the twenty questions? Now, get in before I push you in myself.”

  I looked back into the water and sighed inwardly. Carefully, I inched myself up to the edge of the stream before testing the water. I snapped my hand back at the painful nip. It’s freezing!

  “What are you waiting for?” he pressured.

  “I can’t. I’ll freeze.”

  “Try to imagine it’s a nice warm bath.”

  “I don’t see you taking your clothes off and jumping in!” I jabbed back.

  “Is that an invitation?”

  “No, it’s a threat!” Diesel pushed off the ground and walked around. I instinctively flinched. “What are you doing?”

  “You’re going into the water one way or another. Even if I have to strip down and hold you against my-”

  “No, nope, that’s not necessary. Just give me a minute.”

  He took a few steps back and smugly crossed his arms. I slipped the rest of myself down into the icy current. Awkwardly, I had to tilt myself sideways as the water ran like thousands of tiny ice shards prickling along my skin. I shifted around so my leg was underneath the stream, but the pressure, the cold and the increased sensitivity had me almost jumping out. The wound burned. I winced as my hands clenched into fists, digging up the dirt.

  “Just wait,” he instructed. He pushed onto my shoulders and forced me deeper into the water. He held me against the rocky bed until the cold completely numbed my leg. When he finally let me out, I scrambled across the dirt and pushed off into a hop. Diesel handed over the jacket that I used as a towel to dry off my skin.

  “You’ll thank me later.” He then handed over my pants. “You didn’t think to grab any supplies or my blue prints by any chance before we left?”

  “I didn’t exactly have that much time to pack your toothbrush.” I placed myself on the ground and started wiggling my legs into my pants. My skin still prickled with the cold and my underwear grabbed my butt like a frozen stranger’s hand. Silently, I wished I did take them off before getting into the water. They are going to soak through my pants. “Oi, turn around.”

  Diesel turned around as I quickly slipped out of my underwear and proceeded to put my pants on. Nothing wrong with going commando for a little while.

  “Vance did say that there’s a town nearby. Once we find the creek, he said it’s just straight ahead. Guess we could just follow the water.” My attention snapped upwards to Diesel’s back where a large amount of blood had stained through his shirt. The darkened patch blackened through the grey, and flooded down his top and onto his pants. I didn’t get a chance to say anything as Diesel turned back around to face me.

  “Not more I.O.S by any chance?”

  I shook my head. “Just a town with normal people I think.”

  Diesel rubbed the back of his head roughly so his hair flicked up. It reminded me of a stray dog scratching its floppy ears. “Do you think you can walk?”

  I lifted myself up on the tree and applied a small amount of weight onto my leg. Like touching hot coal, my body recoiled and lifted my knee up again. “Can’t walk, but I can hop.”

  “That’ll do. I’ll get the bag. You just wait here.” Diesel walked back to the car and returned with the backpack hung over his left shoulder. He then walked up beside me and offered me his arm. I grabbed on as he curled his arm around my waist, helping me carry my weight. As we walked, I couldn’t help but glance up at him. There was something off about Diesel, something that he was trying to hide behind the clenched muscle in his jaw.

  He caught me looking and uncomfortably cleared his throat. “What?”

  “Huh?”

  Angered, he snapped, “You keep looking at me. What?”

  “I was just wondering what happened to you back at the I.O.S camp?” I asked in sincere curiosity.

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  “Honestly, they didn’t do anything to me. I think they were more interested in your contacts than why I didn’t have a soul imprint. Which is a nice change.” He nodded but didn’t speak. Silence crawled over us and I felt uncomfortable at the stiffness. “Did they try to force you to make the contacts?”

  “They tried.”

  “And?”

  “After a life time of Alpha prison… well I’m not easy to break.”

  My voice wavered nervously. “But you can do it, right? You can make them again?”

  “Of course.”

  I sighed with noted relief. “That’s good. You were pretty drugged up when I saw you...” My mind flicked back to my last private moment with him and I slammed my mouth shut. Diesel’s fingers clenched into my side at the memory. Neither one of us spoke as I turned my head away and kept walking.

  We walked for hours until we hit a wider channel of water leading into a pond in the middle of the forest. The creek was considerably small for its size and shallow so rocks poked up from the water bed. My stomach churned as Diesel’s pace halved in speed. Sweat collected at the roots of his hair and plotted down his cheeks, soaking his clothes and skin. The pink in his tone was brighter as it pulled across his cheeks. I did my best not to lean on him, but even without my weight, he struggled. I insisted that we stop as the sun was nearly gone and it wouldn’t be smart to continue on into the night. Diesel stumbled out of my arms as he slumped to the ground, panting hard.

  He had his head in between his bent knees; each breath was hoarse as it scraped along his parched throat. I eased myself down and leaned against the tree trunk, carefully stretching my leg out in front. The wound did feel better; the pulse that drummed underneath my skin wasn’t as heavy or tight.

  “You don’t look so good,” I said softly.

  Diesel ran his wrist across his forehead, smearing his sweat off. “I’m just tired.”

  I scooted over and cupped my palm to his forehead. He was scorching hot. “You have a fever.”

  Diesel jerked his neck away, instinctively catching my wrist. The startled reaction almost pulled me over. Just as fast, he let me go and shuffled out of reach. With his hair brushed backward from his face, I could see just how hard his eyes strained to keep focus.

  “I’m fine,” he insisted. “I just need some water.”

  The murky brown water had gone still. He scooted over to the edge, cupped a handful of water and washed his face and hair. He then drank a few mouthfuls before turning his head and spitting. As he hunched, his spine pressed against the fabric of his top where a new wet patch had been forming. I edged closer but
Diesel still felt miles away. His eyebrows furrowed as though pulled by a headache and his blood shot eyes watered. I hadn’t noticed it before, but there was an unpleasant smell coming from his clothes.

  “You need to take that shirt off.”

  “You really will do anything to get me naked.” The top corner of his lip pulled in his attempt at a smirk.

  “Seriously. It stinks.”

  Diesel pulled at the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his shoulders. The material stuck to him like tree sap, and as he pulled the miscoloured grey over his head, he exposed the open wound festering on his back. I cupped my hand to my mouth in shock. The slice ran from the base of his neck and cut deep across his shoulder blade. Every time he moved his arms, the wound’s crust would break and yellow puss dribbled down his swollen pink skin.

  “Holy shit, Diesel!” I gently touched his skin, making sure I didn’t touch the inflamed areas. “Your back!”

  Diesel jerked his shoulder away. “It’s fine.”

  “Don’t say it’s bloody fine. There’s puss and everything. Oh, God! This is really bad.” Panicked, I glanced around unsure what to do. “You need medicine. I can’t believe you were lecturing me earlier about this and now look at you.”

  He twisted back and pulled my hands into his palms. I stilled at his calmness. He didn’t look scared as his eyes hooked onto mine. The worst part was that he just looked tired. Tired of living, tired of fighting and struggling to survive. It wasn’t fear I could see, because Diesel didn’t fear death. He didn’t fear pain. It was the opposite, as though he welcomed it. Beyond the stare of a twenty- five year old man, laid the wisdom and the suffering of someone who had struggled for centuries. Of someone who had seen too much, heard too much and felt pain beyond the human body. It was then I realised what was missing. It was then I realised why Diesel seemed a thousand miles away. Diesel wasn’t here. Not completely. His spirit was broken. In front of me wasn’t a man but a human capsule tired of dragging himself through life, and despite how badly he wished for escape, not even death could offer him solace.