Page 55 of Us Deadly Few

She hadn’t showered since Braderhelm.

The days on the road, under the sweltering sun, had been unforgiving. The only small comfort was that they’d all grown so accustomed to the smell, it barely registered anymore.

“Where does the water come from?” Derek asked, emerging from the hallway, his expression one of scientific curiosity.

“We have wells that feed from the river. Any other questions?”

“Yeah, you mentioned food. What kind of food?” Adan hedged.

“We mostly eat canned food from raids. Beans. Tomatoes. Beef stew.”

“No humans?” Adan asked, and Khalani elbowed him in the side.

“No.” The hate in the man’s eyes intensified. “Hurry up. You have an hour to get ready, or you don’t eat.” The seething guardslammed the door shut, shaking the picture frames on the wall.

“You just had to piss the man off,” Derek grumbled.

“Blamehimfor putting the idea of people eating us in my head.” Adan pointed at Brock.

“Could still happen,” Brock replied. “I wouldn’t let your feet dangle over the bed tonight if you know what’s good for you.”

Adan paled, and Khalani leaned over.

“Don’t listen to him,” she said before laboring to her feet.

She crossed the room to the bundle of clothes left on the couch. The fabric was lightweight and the color of sand. There was even underwear and a bra.

Her lips curved into a slight smile as she inhaled the fresh scent of the fabric. After living months in Braderhelm, clean clothes were a rare and unexpected gift.

An hour later, they were all showered, clean, and stood in the living room, wearing the clothing laid out for them—though their captors didn’t appear to have anything Takeshi’s size. The shirt that was long on everyone else ended slightly above his hip.

Khalani’s gaze lingered on the small stretch of golden skin just beneath his abs for what felt like too long. She quickly looked away, opting to have a love affair with the ceiling instead.

The brusque guard came back, shooting death glares their way as he gestured for them to leave.

When Khalani walked outside, she noticed groups of people in tan garments emerging from their houses. They carried themselves proudly, waltzing along the street and grinning ear to ear as if they possessed all the time in the world.

Some kids played with a ball outside, their laughter echoing in the air. But as soon as Khalani’s group approached, the parents quickly ushered their children away.

With the afternoon light, they had a much better view of the Desert Spring.

The brightly colored houses all had strange metal casings onthe roofs that reflected the sun. There were no broken-down cars or crumbling buildings, just charming homes, neatly manicured lawns and smiling residents.

Despite this, the gnawing pressure in her chest refused to subside.

Something made her glance over her shoulder as more people eyed her with strange expressions. The guards posted on the walls watched them from above, and she fought the urge to turn and barricade herself back inside the house.

“What are your names?” Serene’s voice cut through Khalani’s troubled thoughts.

“I’m Ferren,” said the man with the ponytail. “And this is Jared.” He gestured to his burly partner with long black hair, who grunted in response.

Ferren and Jared didn’t say anything else as they stiffly led them toward a large log cabin. Inside, the room was packed with what appeared to be a hundred people sitting at two long wooden tables. An array of men, women, and children chatted and laughed, their plates empty.

But as soon as they walked in, the crowd’s noise quieted to a low hum of whispers and hard stares.

Parents gathered their children close.

A few men standing guard shifted the tips of their spears closer to their chests. Khalani tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it felt fragile and inadequate.

---