Night Resurrected by Joss Ware Read Free Book Online Page A

and efficient: a neat twist of the
    neck, a single bullet to the head, a well-
    placed slit at the neck.”
    “Could be that cut at the neck, but the
    body’s too wrecked to tell for sure. And
    . . .” Wyatt picked up a stick and used it
    to move away the tatters of the man’s
    shirt at the throat and shoulders. “No
    sign of a crystal.”
    Not a Stranger, then. Remy hadn’t
    thought to look to see whether there was
    —or had been—a crystal embedded in
    the man’s flesh. The Strangers had once
    been mortal humans just like her, but
    they’d implanted special, living crystals
    in their skin, just below the collarbone.
    The
    bluish
    gems
    grew,
    rooting
    themselves
    by
    spreading
    delicate
    tentacles throughout the body. Once
    implanted with a crystal, a Stranger
    would die if it was removed. But with it,
    he or she would live forever, never
    aging or growing ill. The only way to
    kill a Stranger, as far as she knew, was
    to remove the crystal. Hack it out of the
    flesh of which it had become a living
    part.
    Still staring down, Remy asked,
    “Anyone you know?”
    “No.” Wyatt stood and scanned the
    clearing, appearing to notice the
    discarded boots. Then he settled his
    attention back on her. “You?”
    “No.” Remy didn’t look at the boots
    or at Wyatt. She wasn’t certain whether
    she wanted to tell him Ian Marck was
    still alive.
    After all, Ian was a bounty hunter
    who worked for the Strangers—the
    people who were, according to Wyatt
    and his friends Theo and Elliott, the
    cause of the Change that had destroyed
    the world. Aside from that, Ian and his
    father, Raul, had a reputation of terror,
    violence, and greed. The Marcks were
    dangerous and hovered on the fringe
    between the Strangers and the rest of
    human civilization. But she knew another
    side of Ian . . . one that wasn’t quite so
    harsh or violent. And she also knew
    there had been a sort of truce in the past
    between Ian and Wyatt’s friend Elliott.
    Raul was dead, but Ian had continued
    the family tradition, so to speak, as a
    ruthless bounty hunter. Working for the
    Strangers, he raided settlements, looking
    for and taking into custody anyone or
    anything that could be considered a
    threat to the control and repression they
    had over the mortal humans: electronic
    devices, communication equipment, gas-
    powered vehicles, or anything that could
    help build infrastructure.
    Remy knew about the work of the
    bounty
    hunters
    firsthand.
    She’d
    participated in more than one raid. She
    wasn’t proud of it. But she hadn’t had a
    choice. And she’d never hurt anyone.
    And her relationship with Ian . . .
    well, complicated didn’t begin to
    describe it. Yes, they’d been lovers. But
    they hadn’t been intimate. She’d never
    understood the difference until she
    hooked up with Ian.
    She realized Wyatt was looking at
    her as she stared down at the body.
    “Let’s go back,” she said. “Unless you
    want to—uh—wash up. There’s a lake
    that way.”
    “I’ll meet you back at the truck rig,”
    he said, still looking at her with
    speculation. “Dantès is resting. Keep
    him quiet.”
    So ready to escape his serious, sharp
    eyes, she took off without comment. As
    if she needed to be told how to take care
    of her own dog.
    Back at the truck Remy did a little
    organizing of her own and made
    something for Dantès to eat. She had an
    apple and one of the last pieces of bread
    she’d taken from Yellow Mountain.
    Then she considered ideas for dinner as
    she sat next to him, alternately scratching
    her pet behind the ears and patching up
    the tear in her pants. Thanks to Wyatt’s
    earlier attention, the small homelike
    space was clean and comfortable. She
    had to give him credit for that, at least,
    and so she figured she’d make dinner.
    She wasn’t bad at trapping rabbits, and
    she knew how to find wild potatoes and
    strawberries . . .
    Dantès sensed Wyatt’s approach
    before Remy did, his ears snapping
    upright. He leapt to