he inter-posed between the lady and his friend.
Ryan scanned Doc’s face. “What news, Doc? Any success?”
“A little. Let’s find J.B. and I’ll explain it to you both at the same time.”
KRYSTY SUDDENLY SAT UP in bed, tilting her head as though to catch a faraway sound.
Mildred put down the book she had been reading.
“What is it?”
“Something,” Krysty began slowly. “Something’s out there.” She looked at the window, and Mildred’s gaze followed.
Half dozing in a seat in the corner of the room, Jak shook himself and was suddenly wide awake. “What?” he asked the women simply.
“I can hear it,” Krysty told them both. “Coming closer now. Screams all around it, like a blanket. A blanket of agony.”
Mildred looked at Krysty, wondering what it was that she thought she could hear. Her companion looked disheveled, black rings still heavy around her eyes, her rose-petal lips so much paler than normal. “There aren’t any screams,” Mildred assured her. “It’s just your mind playing tricks. Try to forget about it now. Try to keep calm.”
Krysty slowly sank back onto the bed, calming her breathing with an effort. “But they sound so close,” she mumbled.
“I know, Krysty,” Mildred told her, taking one of her hands in her own. “Just try to rest, recover your strength.
And in the morning it will all be over. No more screams, I promise.”
Jak was standing by the window, his nose pressed to the glass and a white hand pushed against it over his brow, trying to block out his own pale reflection. He craned farther, turning his head sideways to see a greater distance. Then he said a single word. “Screams.”
Mildred turned, shocked. “What? What did you say?” she asked him.
The albino teenager didn’t move from the window.
“Screams. Coming.”
Mildred stood beside him, peering over his shoulder.
She knew that Jak had incredible eyesight, almost superhuman, which was decidedly odd for an albino.
That very ability had saved her life more than once, an early-warning system for all of the companions. She tried to follow where he was looking, squinting to discern whatever he had seen. “What is it?” she asked.
“There,” he said, jabbing his finger toward the skeletal tower that loomed over the ville wall. Mildred followed as Jak traced his finger along the glass. “See it?”
“What am I looking for?” she asked, unable to identify anything unusual in the darkened landscape beyond the wall.
Jak turned from the window, glancing at Mildred before marching to the door. “Lights,” he told her.
“Wait, you can’t just…” Mildred began.
“Have to,” Jak told her. “Find out. Tell Ryan.” He left the room, quietly pulling the door closed behind him.
Mildred turned back to the window, pushing the side of her face against the cold glass as she tried to locate whatever it was that Jak was investigating. Almost a minute passed, her breath clouding against the glass before she spotted it—a tiny flicker of crimson light, there and then gone, out in the far distance. She watched for it in the darkness, her heart fluttering anxiously in her chest, until it suddenly reappeared, larger and presumably closer. It wasn’t just one light. Now she could make out there were three separate light sources, infernal red and traveling side by side. “What the hell is that?” she muttered to herself.
JAK’S HANDS WERE STRAIGHT, held like blades to cut through the air as he ran across the street and into the shadows between the buildings beyond, taking the most direct route to the wall and the lights beyond it.
When the high wall came into view, Jak assessed it, mentally calculating where the ridges, the natural hand-and footholds in the wood were. Wiry and thin, it was easy to mistake Jak Lauren for a younger boy, but in reality his body was a powerful tool, not an inch of fat on the whole frame; he was built sleek, like a jungle cat.
With three quick steps Jak was up
Learning to Kill: Stories