Page 33 of A Touch of Gold and Madness

Damn the consequences that may follow in its wake.

Chapter 14

Gray

Iskidded and rolled on the sharp rocks. With the impact, air was forced to whoosh from my lungs. Gravel dug into the sleeves of my hooded leather jacket while the cowl protected my face.

Well, that fucking sucked.

The next stop was a few miles away. I couldn’t risk being seen by Kinetics, so I’d plunged to the ground as an early exit.

I groaned. Soreness nestled within my bones and muscles, protesting every step to retrieve my bag. My body healed during the train ride, but I was still aching. I hoisted my bag over my shoulder and set off on the next leg of my journey, hoping to find a safe place to truly rest soon.

I didn’t know where I was, only that I was near a small town somewhere in the middle of Georgia. However, despite the foggy skies, the moon told me it was about three in the morning.

My stomach grumbled, reminding me it’d been too long since my last meal. I’d have to either hunt or scavenge for food.

Not long after Devolution Day, bartering and trading became the new form of currency, but food was a rare item to trade since most lived underground in fear of the Kinetics and Elementals. The survivalists that came topside to grow or raise food drove steep prices for their product. Foodslower in demand, such as nuts or common vegetables, were more easily bartered.

While on the train, I’d discovered a hidden pocket in the duffel that contained a stash of my jewelry from the palace. Scarlett or Cotton must have raided my drawers while I was with my father and Grim. Depending on the trade, speakeasies sometimes provided meals to nomadic humans and rebels. But it would only get me so far.

I reached into the hidden pocket of the bag, sifting through the gold, silver, and platinum chains and bands. A pair of extravagant diamond earrings snagged against my palm.

That should do.I stuffed the pair into my front pocket with a sigh.

I walked through the trees lining the train tracks, hoping the woods would camouflage me from random passersby. The crickets’ cadence to their mating partners told me dawn was bringing an end to their midnight rides. I needed to get out of the open and hole away somewhere.

For five miles, I hugged the inside of the tree line. I was in human territory, even if the majority of them were underground. It didn’t lower the risks of running into a rebel. Aside from speakeasies, business was conducted topside, which meant human militias patrolled these rural areas.

After walking for hours, the sun awakened, illuminating the landscape before me. Inside the tree line, I trekked past the outskirts of a town. Abandoned and looted homes sprinkled either side of the quiet road. Former businesses were nothing but crumbling artifacts from a none-too-distant time. I pictured them in their prime when business was flowing.

When life was good. When life was normal.

Abandoned cars rotted in the crumbling road from where the EMP zapped their ability to function. Rust disintegrated the metals into colorful heaps of junk that peeked through the greenery as it devoured them. Vehicles sat on flat tires that would forever kiss the cracked asphalt. Years of the torrid summer heat and moist climate faded the street paint, while the grass I trudged through was tall enough to hide lesser animals on the food chain.

Earth was reclaiming her power, and it left behind the decayed remnants of the humans’ brief dominance.

I continued through the town until I reached the antiquated square. An antebellum courthouse was the central point. It stood with southern grit even as vines climbed its structure and holes marred its face.

“Who are you?” a deep voice cut through the silence, breaking my disheartened reverie.

I spun, my right hand landing on a dagger in my weapons belt, and came face to face with a teenage boy. My blade pressed against his windpipe, his tawny skin reminding me of desert sand.

His voice didn’t match his age. Unruly, black curls stood untamed on his head, and his clothes hung loose on his thin frame. “Not someone you want to sneak up on, kid.”

Through his poker face, his uneven breaths gave away his fear. “I was only asking because we don’t see fresh faces around here often.”

I didn’t respond but pressed the dagger harder against his throat instead.

“If we see newcomers, they usually cause trouble,” the kid continued, swallowing against the blade.

“Right.” My voice came out flat, unsure whether to remove my weapon. I kept it there, studying the boy.

We both knew I outmatched him, but he remained stalwart, like the courthouse, against my scrutiny. A warmth and softness simmered behind his steadfast and determined gaze.

I dropped the dagger from his throat and backed up two steps. My brows pinched together as I read his rigid posture.

“Where can I barter some food?” I asked, breaking the tension.

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