Kat Falls - Inhuman

“And here’s what else I know,” Rafe went on. “This feral has hit five other compounds — enough that I’ve picked up on a pattern.

“This rogue doesn’t have a pattern,” scoffed a greasy hunter in the back. “No one knows where it’ll hit next.”

Rafe looked unfazed. “True, but once this feral shows up in an area, it does have a routine.”

“And what’s that?” Hagen asked.

“It’ll stick around for about a week, kill one person a day, and then disappear for a couple of months. I don’t know where it goes when it’s lying low, but that’s its pattern. And here’s what you all really need to know: This feral isn’t taking whatever dirtbag crosses its path anymore. It’s gotten much pickier about its prey. Now it’ll stalk the person it wants, waiting for its chance to pounce.”

I wondered if Alva Soto had confirmed that for him when she’d said that her sister had sensed something hunting her.

“That’s a load of crap.” The greasy hunter sneered. “Ferals don’t plan — rogue or not. They eat, they sleep, and some howl at the moon. They’re animals .”

A low grumble of protest came from the manimals in the station. One gave an agitated flick of his hand, rejecting the statement, while I shuddered at the sight of his long black claws.

“ Animals also hunt and they have preferences when it comes to prey.” Rafe folded his arms over his chest. “But I’m willing to consider another theory. Maybe it isn’t totally feral. Maybe it’s a manimal — evil as all get out, but still thinking straight.”

I frowned. He was throwing that out there so that he didn’t have to admit he was wrong about Chorda.

“Why a manimal?” A large man got to his feet. A layer of gray filmy skin hung from his cheeks, half peeled away. Considering his whiskers and downward pointing tusks, he was probably infected with walrus. “It could just as easily be fully human. Serial killers were around long before us.”

“The victims’ chests were ripped open with claws” — Rafe waggled his fingers — “not fingernails.”

“Rogue, alien, demented nun … I don’t care what it is,” Hagen said loudly. “I just want its head in a Hefty bag. Comprende , people?”

“Excuse me.” A young woman stood, her eyes on Rafe as she nervously fingered the knife tucked into her belt. Pockmarked and wiry, she could have passed for a boy. “You said the feral is choosing its victims. Who is it choosing?”

“Two years ago, it stuck to the bottom of the food chain, mostly picking off drifters. Now it only goes for respectable people. That’s a broad range, I know, but it is selecting its victims. Every person who went missing this year told someone that they felt like they were being watched the day before. So if you have that sense, come find me.”

“So, the feral’s already picked its next victim?” the greasy hunter scoffed. “Well, heck, I guess that means the rest of us can kick back and relax.”

“You can, Tox,” Rafe retorted. “Like I said, it’s only snatching decent people.”

The hunter started to reply but Hagen cut him off. “Okay, everyone, here’s what that means,” she shouted to be heard above the frightened chatter. “Mandatory curfew. No ifs, ands, or buts. The gate doesn’t open for anybody after sunset. Anyone out at night will be considered a threat. Manimals, that goes double for you.”

“Why double for us?” the walrus-man huffed.

Hagen held up her hands. “That’s it, meeting’s over.”

“Come on, Ed,” said the normal-looking woman beside the walrus-man. “Leave it alone.” She tugged at him until he followed her, glowering over his shoulder at the mayor. When he caught me staring at him, I looked away quickly.

“If Mr. Walrus is smart, he’ll leave town,” Rafe said, watching the couple go.

“Why? Is the rogue killing manimals too?” My voice caught on the word manimals , but I got it out. Maybe someday it would even sound like a real word.

“No. But when the humans start looking for someone to blame,” he said, gesturing to the departing crowd, “it won’t be one of their own.”

“Won’t they blame the rogue feral?”

“Sure, until somebody says that it’s punishing the compound because of something someone did. That’s when the tar and feathers get dragged out.”

“You’ve seen that happen?”

He nodded and took another long look around the room. “Mack’s not here.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. “Where else could he be?”

“Hagen will know if he’s in the compound.” Rafe pulled out a chair at an empty table. “Sit.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“Do you want to be? I’m sure the mastiff there would be happy to get a mouthful of you.”

The jowly man at a nearby table looked up from his meal and glared at Rafe. I wished the floor would split open and swallow me, but I settled for whispering, “Sorry,” before slipping into the chair and ducking my head to inspect my silverware for spots. Why did I have to be stuck in a new place with the rudest person alive? How were we going to get answers about my dad if he went around insulting everyone? I looked up to find him grinning at me.

“I’ve never seen anyone turn that red,” he said, sitting beside me. “Including the baboon dude back there.” He pointed over my shoulder — as if I was going to turn around. He smirked. “You know you want to look.”

“Shut up,” I muttered.

Rafe grinned. “Sure you don’t want to stick a ‘please’ on the end?”

“Okay, pretty boy,” Hagen said, joining us, “what are you doing back so soon?”

“I got a bunch of traps set and hung up poisoned meat. But then something came up.”

“You mean someone ?” She sounded annoyed, though the gaze she turned on to me was friendly enough. “Where are you from, hon?”

“The West,” Rafe replied for me.

Hagen laughed. “And I just got back from swimming in the California surf.”

I felt a weird twinge of pride, knowing that I no longer looked like a silky from the West.

“She’s Mack’s daughter.”

There was something in the way Rafe said it that told me that this was significant information for this woman.

Hagen’s face twitched, and she pushed her chair back abruptly from the table. She saw me watching her and said, “It’s not that it isn’t good to meet you, Delaney Park.”

Did everyone in the Feral Zone know about me?

“The problem is that your being here means Mack is in trouble.”

“How did you know?”

“She’s your dad’s —” Rafe started.

“— good friend,” Hagen finished.

I’d have to have been an idiot not to catch that subtext. However, I decided to ignore it. If my father had a girlfriend over here, that was one secret I didn’t mind him keeping. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The crease in Hagen’s forehead deepened. “Mack came by here to tell me that biohaz agents were probably looking for him. He took off again last night to see if he could bribe a line guard to fly him over the wall. He was planning to clear out of Davenport.” She studied my face. Her eyes were a beautiful amber color. “So how did you get dragged into this mess, little girl?”

“She’s supposed to give Mack a letter,” Rafe said, “and then she’s going back to her side of the wall to eat bonbons and paint her toenails.”

Any other time, his barb would have set my teeth on edge, but now I didn’t care. I slumped back in my chair, feeling as if I’d given too much blood. I had crossed the last bridge, broken quarantine, hoping to find my dad in time. And now I knew without a doubt that I’d failed.