Cannibal Country (Book 2): Flesh of the Sons Read online

  Wyatt thought he stressed the word rescue. As in, you owe us. But that might have been his bruised ego.

  “The gates are guarded and can’t be opened without orders from myself or Alexander. Or Papa, of course. That is for all of our protection as I’m sure you’ll come to understand.”

  “That sounds fair,” Allie said, nudging Wyatt in the side. “Wouldn’t you say so, Wyatt?”

  There was something about Franklin that Wyatt didn’t like. He’d been captivated by Papa yesterday, and he had befriended Alexander, but Franklin was a different animal. He knew it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect to like everyone in the community, but this man left a sour taste in his mouth.

  “Why were we split up yesterday?” Wyatt asked, unable to keep his mouth closed and go with the flow.

  Franklin gave a hollow laugh. “Wyatt, you are something else. I promise you, there was nothing sinister about it.”

  Allie kept needling him in the side and Wyatt finally met her gaze. Her mouth didn’t move but the message was clear. Shut up.

  “Alexander radioed ahead to let everyone know they were on their way and gave us a report about who you were. There was a lot of excitement and everyone wanted to make you feel welcome. We’re a friendly bunch but I’ll admit it didn’t occur to us that you’d likely be more comfortable staying together as you got your bearings. I apologize on everyone’s behalf, but we only wanted to show you all that our community has to offer.”

  Wyatt nodded, satisfied even if part of him thought this all seemed too rehearsed. “Alright. And I think I speak for all of us when I say that we appreciate being allowed to stay here. And also, grateful that we can leave whenever we’d like.”

  “We never hold anyone against their will, here. There’s no need,” Franklin said with another of his charming smiles. Allie nudged Wyatt even harder.

  Wyatt knew exactly what the woman wanted of him and he gritted his teeth. “And I suppose I got ahead of myself when I became accusatory. I didn’t mean to come at you so hot.”

  “No offense taken,” Franklin said. “The community is your family, and vice versa. At least, if you let them.”

  The conversation seemed to have reached its conclusion, but to put a final pin in the discussion Alexander stepped into the room. He gave Wyatt a quick but distracted nod as he moved to Franklin. He spoke low and Wyatt strained to hear. “I’d appreciate an audience,” he said. “We need to get another trade going asap.”

  Annoyance clouded Franklin’s face. Wyatt wasn’t sure whether it was Alexander’s demand or the fact that it had been made in front of the new arrivals. Either way he put on a phony smile and turned his attention from Alexander to the others.

  “If you’ll excuse us.” He nodded to the two guards who opened the door for Wyatt’s group to leave.

  Rather than cause any more of a scene, Wyatt moved with his mother and Allie toward the door. Until Alexander’s voice stopped him.

  “Not you, Wyatt. I want you in on this.”

  Chapter 12

  Wyatt watched with a sort of confused awe as Papa hobbled out of the bedroom, leaning on a cane that looked destined to snap under his heft. The man looked even bigger up close and personal. It wasn’t only his actual size either. There was something akin to an aura around him, a presence. Wyatt thought he’d feel the same sort of gravitas if he were sharing a room with a President or King. Then he realized, in a way, that’s what he was doing.

  He stole a glance at Seth who watched Papa with rapturous attention. He’d been surprised to find his little brother in the room when he arrived with Alexander and Franklin. Surprised and happy.

  Seth seemed pleased to see him too but, for a moment, Wyatt thought he looked disappointed as well. Like a kid who’d just realized that the bag of candy he’d been given was now meant to be shared. Wyatt tried to tell himself he was reading too much into a split-second expression, but the thought nagged at him even more now that he realized Seth was riding shotgun on the Papa bandwagon.

  The big man shuffled past a glass coffee table and half-sat, half-collapsed onto the couch. He burped out an Oof that almost made Wyatt smile, but he knew that would not be an appropriate or welcome reaction, so he kept it inside and distracted himself by scratching Supper under his chin.

  Alexander had been standing by the window and took a step closer. “Papa we need to get out there and--”

  Papa held up his hand. “Alexander, please. I know you take your position here very seriously and for that I am grateful. Truly I am. But I haven’t even greeted my new friend here and whatever you need to say will surely hold for another half minute, will it not?”

  Alexander pinched his lips together and gave a brief, silent, nod.

  “Thank you.” Papa turned toward Wyatt, giving him a too good look at the sores on his face and neck. They reminded Wyatt of a sunburn he’d got one time at Gooch’s Beach. Wyatt had peeled through three layers of skin on his back and shoulders, but whatever had burned Papa was a thousand times worse.

  “Nice of you to join us, Wyatt,” Papa said. “Some spirits to wet your whistle?”

  Wyatt shook his head. “Thank you, but I’m fine.”

  “As you wish. However, if you reconsider please speak up. If you need a testament to the quality of my bourbon, ask your brother. I’m sure he’ll recommend it highly.”

  Wyatt saw Seth smirk and his cheeks blaze pink. He was surprised at how chummy the two had become.

  Papa grabbed a glass of booze from the coffee table and sipped it as he leaned back into the couch, its plush whiteness swallowing him up. “Alright. Now that pleasantries have taken place, Alexander, tell us what’s got you so fired up at this early hour.”

  “We need to head out and make a trade. We’re running low on vitals.”

  “A trade mission? With whom this time?” Papa asked.

  “The hermit would be our best bet. We have a few pallets of electronics we scavenged last month and those always pique his interest.”

  “I see. And what is it we need? Specifically?”

  “Food, sir,” Alexander replied.

  “Drop the sir bullshit, Alexander. You know the drill.”

  “Sorry, Papa.”

  Papa waved his hand, dismissing the comment. “I can always get behind more food.” He looked at Seth, grinned and winked. “And our efforts at growing haven’t exactly yielded bountiful results thus far.”

  Franklin cracked the knuckles in his fingers, one at a time. The noise drew Papa’s attention and, Wyatt realized, that was the intent.

  “You’ll give yourself arthritis, Franklin. It would be easier and less painful to simply speak when you have something to say.”

  Franklin’s expression was blank, but Wyatt thought he saw fire behind the man’s eyes. “I think it’s a mistake.”

  “Explain,” Papa said.

  “The squad just got back yesterday after almost a week on the outside. They’re drained. They need time to recuperate.”

  Papa looked from him to Alexander for a retort and Alexander obliged.

  “We’ll be fine. My people are tough.”

  “No one’s doubting that,” Papa said. “You and your people are heroes to every last one of us. That’s why we want you to be safe. Now, are you certain this isn’t too soon? Surely we have enough supplies to last a fortnight or more.”

  “Dried and canned goods, yes. But people have become accustomed to fresh fruits and vegetables too. And that’ll be exhausted within a few days.”

  Papa exhaled with enough force to send phlegm rattling in his throat. He washed it down with another mouthful of alcohol. “Alright, then. I trust your judgement and for you to get back here in one piece.”

  “Of course. And I’d like to take Wyatt with me,” Alexander said.

  Papa looked to Wyatt with kind, curious eyes. “And what do you want to do, Wyatt?”

  “I’m down.”

  The man chuckled. “You’re down. Such bravado. How old are you?”


  “Eighteen.”

  Papa gave a wistful smile. “My oh my. If I was your age and had myself that pretty little piece you came in here with, I doubt you’d be able to pry me out of her with dynamite.” He leaned forward, elbows against his knees. It was a posture that amplified his gut and reminded Wyatt of Buddha. “Tell me. Why are you so eager to go back out into the weeds rather than shacking up in one of our luxurious rooms with Miss Allie and doing your best impression of rabbits in heat?”

  It wasn’t a bad question. One Wyatt hadn’t considered. And now that it was presented to him, he realized just how stupid he was being. He’d spent months out there, every second his life in danger. Now he’d found safety and less than 24 hours later he was ready to abandon it. What the hell was wrong with him?

  At the same time, he knew he wanted - no, needed - to prove himself capable. To Alexander. To Franklin. To Papa. Maybe even to himself. Because his first go around in the wild had left men dead and even though he couldn’t bring them back, he had to make penance.

  But he couldn’t say all of that. “I want to contribute.”

  Papa nodded. “Very noble of you. Well, I don’t need to tell you about the risks. And Alexander here says you handle yourself well.”

  “He does,” Alexander said.

  “You’re a man, Wyatt. If you want to go, and Alexander wants you to go, then I’ll leave it at that. His team, his decision.”

  Wyatt was relieved and nervous. He was about to ask Papa for some of that booze when Seth broke the silence.

  “Take me with you.”

  Alexander opened his mouth to speak but Papa cut him off before he got a word out. “No, Seth. You aren’t going. Your condition would be a detriment to the others.”

  “Just because I can’t walk doesn’t mean I can’t handle myself. I killed more men out there than Wyatt!”

  “I’m unsure that’s information worthy of a brag,” Papa said.

  Whatever cockiness Seth had conjured vanished. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just--”

  “I’m not saying you are incapable of fighting. But you must take others, and their safety, into consideration.”

  Seth crossed his arm, petulant. “I didn’t know I needed permission to leave.”

  Papa’s smile slipped from his face, and for the first time, Wyatt thought he sensed fear, or something close to it, from the other men as he saw them exchange glances.

  “You don’t. Y’all can leave if you want to. Nobody’s gonna stop you from doin’ that. Go, now. I’ll have Franklin radio the guards at the fence.”

  Seth couldn’t meet Papa’s gaze and looked to Wyatt with wounded, puppy dog eyes. Wyatt knew his brother wanted him to come to his defense, but he was certain doing so would seal all their fate.

  “It’s your decision, brother,” Wyatt said.

  Papa reached out and rested his hand atop Seth’s knee. “If you want to be a part of this community, and I truly hope you do, you need to take my advice. Got it?”

  Seth swallowed hard, nodding. “I don’t want to leave. I just want to help.”

  In a flash the big man’s expression returned to warm and loving. “And I welcome your help. Here. With me.”

  Chapter 13

  Wyatt held his breath as he stood before the closed hotel room door, hand raised to knock but hesitating. It would be easier to walk away and avoid the drama, he knew that as sure as he knew his own name. But he was also aware that, should he tuck tail, he’d always wonder what if.

  So, he knocked.

  “Room service,” he said.

  Maybe she’s not in there. Maybe she’s hanging out with some of the other women. Or Franklin. That latter thought made him feel sick.

  He heard bed springs squeak from inside the room, then soft footsteps.

  “I didn’t order anything,” Allie said. “I didn’t even know they had room service.”

  The lock flicked audibly, then the door pulled inward. Allie stood behind it, peeking out. In one hand she clutched a hairbrush while the other still held the doorknob. Her hair was a wet, frizzy mess, one half of her head still in dreadlocks. The other unfurled and hung in kinky strands.

  “Wyatt?” Allie stared, confused or surprised or both. She stepped out from behind the door revealing that she was wearing a white cotton bathrobe.

  “What happened to your hair?” He tried to hide the shock, both in his voice and on his face.

  She flashed a nervous smile. “I figured, since I was back in civilization it was time to brush out my dreads. Didn’t realize quite how much work it would be though. My arms are cramping so bad I can hardly lift them.”

  She turned away from him and headed toward the bed where a menagerie of hair products was spread out. “Come in and make yourself useful.”

  He watched her sit on the edge of the bed and grab a spray bottle which she used to saturate one of her dreadlocks.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  He wasn’t sure. The sight of her on the bed, in her robe, made him uncomfortable. He remembered that day at the lake when he’d seen her completely nude in the water. How they came together. How they were on the verge of so much more until--

  He pushed the memory to the side. Because as sweet as that encounter with Allie was, it was followed by Trooper’s vicious, horrible end. And that was the last thing he wanted to remember.

  Wyatt closed the door behind him as he entered the room, then moved to her. She pushed the brush in his direction, and he accepted it, confused. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “What do you usually do with a hairbrush? Just be gentle.”

  She lifted the wet dread to show him where to use it and he worked the bristles into her hair, using about as much care as he’d have used if tasked with handling a piece of fine, antique china. There was resistance, but he went slow and eventually the strands of hair began to come loose and separate.

  “How’d your big meeting go?” She asked.

  Her voice was teasing but he thought there was some gravity behind the words.

  “It was fine,” he said, dragging the brush through her blonde tresses.

  “Are they going to kick us out?”

  “What? No.” He looked her in the eyes to make certain she believed him. “We’re good here.”

  “I hope so. Because this is the first time, I’ve felt safe in years. Since… it all ended. I forgot how good that felt. And I don’t want to lose that.”

  “I don’t either.”

  “It didn’t seem that way this morning. You and Franklin were like two roosters putting on a show for the hens.”

  That stung because it was true. Wyatt hadn’t realized it had been so obvious. “Sorry.”

  “You should be.” Some of the seriousness left her face. She even worked up a smirk. “So, are you going to tell me what the meeting was about, or did you make some sort of blood oath of secrecy?”

  “It’s nothing secretive. I’m going with Alexander’s team to make a trade for food.”

  Her smirk vanished. “When?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  She sighed. “I don’t know why you’re so fucking eager to get yourself killed.”

  He ignored that for a while until he heard her sniffle and saw a tear spill down her cheek. Wyatt withdrew the brush and sat it on the bed. “I’m not going to get killed.”

  Allie stared down at the bed until he took her chin and turned his face to him.

  “Why are you so worried?” He asked.

  “Why aren’t you?”

  It was a fair question but, before he could think of a good answer, she continued.

  “I’m tired of letting myself love people only to lose them.”

  Wyatt wasn’t sure he heard her right. Even if he had, she didn’t mean love the way he wanted it to mean. If she loved him it was the way she’d love an annoying, little brother.

  Right?

  He had to know. “You mean you--”

  Allie took his hands in hers. “I need you, Wyatt.
Here. With me.” She pulled him closer to her, close enough to kiss. And that’s what she did. Her lips felt like velvet against his own and he wanted to get lost in the moment, but all he could do was wonder why he hadn’t brushed his teeth after breakfast and how bad his breath was.

  She didn’t seem to mind though, pushing her tongue into his mouth, massaging his. Allie grabbed a fistful of his hair, drawing their bodies even closer together. He felt her heat through the robe and slipped his hand between the soft cotton folds where it found her breast and caressed. She gave a soft groan which made him hard as steel.

  They fell onto the bed, hands desperate, yearning. He felt her unzip his jeans, push them over his hips. He untied the loose knot that held her robe shut.

  Their bodies pressed together. Connected.

  As she drew him inside her he felt on the verge of losing his mind. Her breaths came fast and humid against his face. And she whispered into his ear.

  “Promise you’ll come back to me,” she said.

  Their bodies rocked, rhythmic, smooth, in sync.

  “I do.

  Allie rolled on top of him. Her lithe figure rising and falling. Rising and falling. “Promise me you’ll never let anything bad happen.”

  If his head had been clear he might have hedged on that one, but in the moment he was helpless.

  “I promise.”

  Chapter 14

  Wyatt watched the gates open before him. He stood with the group of seven men and two women, waiting to venture out of the community to bring back food for everyone.

  Alexander had set him up with a desert camo uniform, so he fit in with everyone else, but Wyatt noticed that, while close, the uniforms didn’t quite match. Some had patches and badges. Faded areas where name tags had been removed. Rust-colored stains that could only be blood.

  The clothes were used and abused, but he supposed, from a distance, they got the message across. This was a unified team. One with which you didn’t want to fuck. That had been his first impression of them, when they saved him and his family from Red’s band of cannibals.