Bones, p.1
Bones, page 1
Bones
The Bones Series
Book 1
K. L. Speer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 by K. L. Speer
All rights reserved.
Cover Illustration and Design Copyright © 2023 by K.L. Speer
ISBN 979-8-9897440-0-8 (epub)
ISBN 979-8-9897440-1-5 (paperback)
ISBN 979-8-9897440-2-2 (hardcover)
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For more information:
P.O. BOX 68014, Minneapolis, MN 55418
author.klspeer@gmail.com
www.klspeer.com
Contents
Content Warning
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Content Warning
Bones is set in a brutal and violent post-apocalyptic world similar to the Wild West. This book is intended for mature adults.
For a detailed list of content warnings (will contain slight spoilers), go here : https://www.klspeer.com/content-warnings
To my twelve-year-old self
who always felt like an outsider
so she got lost in books and started
writing the first of many novels.
You never expected to be here,
but I wanted to tell you something.
We did it.
Prologue
The midday sun beat down on the desert sand. A young girl covered in dirt and dried blood lay where she’d fallen, too exhausted to get up. Above, a lone hawk circled. Two scrawny vultures had landed, stretching their fleshy necks to get a better look at her. One of them squawked, but she didn’t move. The hawk circled again, then dove. The scavengers hopped sideways, letting out indignant screeches, and she pushed herself up. At her movement, the hawk changed course, soaring back into the sky. The vultures hadn’t moved, still eyeing her hopefully. She glared at them.
“Fuck off,” her voice cracked. “I ain’t dead yet.”
The huge birds stared with glittering beady eyes. A flash of anger filled her, and she bared her teeth and growled, swiping in their direction like an angry cat. The vultures took off in a flurry of noise and dust.
Now alone, she struggled to her feet. Her chapped lips stung, and her throat burned with thirst. She started trudging again, not in any particular direction. Just one foot in front of the other. Her stomach cramped. The last thing she’d eaten had been a couple small eggs she’d stolen from a nest two days ago.
The sun had moved halfway across the sky when a dust cloud appeared in the distance. She stopped walking, swaying as her legs trembled. Running was pointless; her pursuer could track anything. She took a deep breath and clenched her fists at her sides, steeling herself against seeing his face.
The ramshackle bikes skidded to a stop, and she squinted through the dust to see three strangers. For a moment, she felt lightheaded with a strange mix of relief and disappointment. It wasn’t him. The two on the sides revved their snarling engines as they looked her over in a way that made her feel cold. One was young, still a boy, and the other was a giant man. The man leered at her, flashing the crude chunk of gold he had in place of a tooth. But she paid attention to the one in the middle. Faded tattoos crawled up his neck, and he eyed her with a calculating gaze. The other two kept looking at him as though waiting for instruction.
For a moment, she hesitated. She could try to run. She could cry and scream. She could even try to fight. But her brother had taught her too well for that. He’d trained her to survive.
“You’re small, but you’re clever.” She could hear Wolf’s voice in her head. “Folks see a kid and assume they’re the smarter one. An’ maybe they are, but anytime somebody underestimates you, you can use that.”
So she squared her bony little shoulders, stepped forward, and said, “I’m lookin’ for work. I’m…I’m a healer, and I’m lookin’ for work.”
The man on the left snorted with laughter, slapping his leg, but the one in the middle just raised a single brow.
“That so?” he finally said in a lazy, dangerous sort of voice.
She clenched her ragged shirt at her sides to keep her hands from shaking. “Yeah. That’s so.”
“Just when you think you seen it all.” The one on the left snorted again, his voice loud. He swung a leg over and kicked a wobbly kickstand down, his eyes on her. “C’mon, boss, we could use a little fun. How ’bout—”
A gunshot cracked across the dry, barren ground. She jerked backward, biting her tongue hard, but she didn’t scream. The man who had dismounted glanced down at his bleeding shoulder in shock.
“The fuck—” he choked.
“Tell you what,” the leader said, holstering his pistol, “I’ve been dreadful bored. So here’s your chance. You fix Grip here, an’ you’re hired.”
“Juck—” wheezed Grip, clutching his shoulder. He went down on one knee, his eyes rolling between her and the man who’d shot him.
The third biker laughed with a sneer, and she knew they expected her to fail. She stood quietly for a second, but then she moved forward.
“Juck!” Grip sputtered. “Juck, boss, I didn’t mean to—” He glanced at the young biker. “Vulture…help me, man—”
Both Juck and Vulture ignored him. Out of the corner of her eye, she could tell Juck’s gaze had locked on her as she walked straight up to the bleeding man, reached out her skinny little arms, and placed her hands on his shoulder.
“The hell—” Grip got out, but then he sucked in a startled gasp.
Nothing happened. At least, she knew that’s what it looked like, but a second later, the bullet pushed itself out of Grip’s shoulder like a worm coming out of the dirt. She spared a glance at Juck to see shock and excitement creeping across his face. The bullet dropped to the sand in an almost silent thud, and she let go, staggering backward but somehow remaining on her feet. She tried to hide the way her entire body shook with chills by clasping her trembling hands in front of her. In the silence, Grip stared open-mouthed at her, his beefy hand gingerly touching the fresh pink scar where the bullet hole had been.
She looked at Juck, and Juck smiled. She held his eyes, unsure if she should feel relieved or not that she wasn’t going to die today.
“You’re hired,” Juck said, his voice soft. “Come here, girl.”
She didn’t hesitate this time. She left Grip where he sat still gaping and went straight up to Juck’s bike. She lifted her freckled face and studied him as he studied her. He looked to be in his late forties, hair and beard beginning to grey. He had ruddy, wrinkled skin from the desert sun and a pleasant enough expression, but something about him set her on edge, something dark.
“Look at those eyes,” Juck said. “Never seen eyes that green before.”
Her stomach twisted, and she fought the urge to shift on her feet. The third biker, Vulture, studied her from behind Juck. He looked a little younger than Wolf, maybe sixteen or seventeen. His dark blond hair curled at the ends, and his face was handsome, but he stared down at her, his nose wrinkled in disgust.
“Gods, she’s all bones,” Vulture mocked.
He wasn’t wrong, but her face reddened. She’d been skinny before, but two weeks in the desert with practically no food had reduced her to almost nothing.
“Without bones, you’d be nothin’ more than a puddle of muck on the ground, boy,” Juck said, his voice a quiet rebuke.
Vulture flushed and scowled.
“What’s your name, girl?” Juck asked.
She swallowed hard, but her name stuck in her throat like a rock. The girl she’d been was as good as dead, so who was she now? “Don’t got one.”
“How old are you?” Vulture asked, still scowling. “Seven?”
She flashed him a fierce look. “I’m ten, asshole.”
Vulture snorted, and she clenched her fists hard enough to make her nails bite into her palms.
“Don’t got a name, huh?” Juck smiled. “Well, you do now, Bones.”
He moved quickly, just like when he’d drawn his gun and shot Grip. She tensed when he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her, but she didn’t fight. He settled her onto his bike in front of him and gripped his handlebars, his arms closing her in like steel bars.
“Let’s git,” he said, a triumphant smile playing across his face. He revved the bik e, then took off with a jerk.
She gripped the seat, clinging to the cracked leather, and didn’t look back.
“The gods sent an angel, all for me,” Juck said reverently in her ear.
She didn’t correct him, but she knew Wolf would have laughed himself sick at the thought of her being an angel. The wind whipped the tears out of her eyes and left them somewhere behind along with her name.
She was Bones, Wolf was gone, and the only kind of angel she could ever possibly be was an angel of death.
1
Twelve Years Later
Unfortunately, I wasn’t going to bleed to death.
The blood trickling down my face for hours from the big gash in my temple had stopped. If it’d been anyone else, I would’ve called that a good sign, but I wasn’t sure what was coming for me. There was a damn good chance I was better off slowly bleeding to death in the dark.
I leaned my head back, letting it thud against the metal wall. I sat on the floor of an empty safe, just large enough for me to sit with my legs crossed. Zip ties secured my hands behind my back, the plastic leaving raw welts on my wrists.
If you’re captured, don’t fight ’em. They’ll think you’re weak. Use that against ’em.
I know, Wolf. I panicked, ok?
The mercenaries had snuck up on my sad little camp under cover of the thick trees. I hadn’t seen them until they were on top of me, and instead of playing dumb like I should have, I panicked.
If you’re outnumbered, do not try to fight, Wolf growled.
There'd been six of them and one of me, but I did manage to fling red-hot coals in one asshole’s face and leave my only knife buried in another’s thigh.
Never give up your only weapon! Wolf barked.
Gods, will you shut up already?
If I’d kept my head, they probably would’ve locked me in a regular room, but since I fought and injured them just enough to piss them off, they threw me in this godsforsaken safe.
The worst part was not knowing why. Did they know me? Did a bounty for me exist already? Or was I just lucky enough to get picked up by traffickers? I smiled humorlessly. Gods, wouldn’t that be fitting?
The dim light and lack of interaction made it difficult to tell how much time had passed, but I would guess I’d been in here for more than a day. My stomach ached with hunger and my throat burned with thirst. Had they forgotten about me? Had they all been killed in a fight? Had I been left to waste away in a metal coffin?
I’d fallen into a half-asleep daze when a noise by the door startled me. I sat in the pitch black, my heart pounding and adrenaline flooding my veins, but the door didn’t open. The scraping sounds and muffled voices continued for a long time, and dread began to pool in my stomach. The mercs didn’t have any trouble locking it when they threw me in here. My eyes widened in sudden realization. These people weren’t unlocking the safe, they were picking it. I strained, trying to hear the conversation, but a soft clicking sound made me freeze and then all the gears turned, and the thick door swung open. I forced myself to slump over with my eyes closed and my heart in my throat.
A bright light shone right on my face and a strangled exclamation cut through the silence. Hands reached into the safe, grabbing my arms and dragging me out to lay on the cold floor. Someone spoke in a harsh, angry whisper I couldn’t make out, but a body knelt beside me and cut the zip ties around my wrists. The blood rushed back into my hands. I wanted to lash out, to run, but I remembered now, Wolf’s voice thundering in my head. I cracked my eyes open, squinting in the light. Shadowy figures filled the room, but they sure as hell weren’t the mercs. I tried to focus on the scraps of whispered conversation I could hear.
“—believe that little fucker lied. There’s nothing here!”
“—end well. Fuck!”
“—leave her. We gotta get outta here.”
The person beside me reached out, and I instinctively flinched. They withdrew and set the flashlight on the floor, illuminating a handsome male face. He looked somewhere in his mid to late twenties with a strong jaw covered in light stubble. His brown eyes—gentle eyes—widened in concern, and that told me all I needed to know.
“—not gonna hurt you.” He reached a hand out to me again. “Can you walk?”
I nodded, shaking. I tried to push myself up but then sank back with a hiss of pain. He fell for it. His brow drew together in concern, and he seized my arms, helping me to my feet. I wobbled on one foot, keeping my other foot raised as though it hurt to walk on. He ducked under my arm, supporting my weight as I pretended to limp. Maybe my leg was fine, but I didn’t have to pretend to need his support. Thanks to the blood loss and hunger, the room wouldn’t stop spinning, forcing me to lean on him. The other shadowy well-armed figures bled out of the room, scouting ahead. Their guns glinted in the dim light as we crept down the hallway, and all five of them blended into the shadows with their dark clothing.
A cool breeze blew in from the open window at the end of the hall, and I studied it as we grew closer. It looked big enough for me to fit through and a flat roof stretched out below it. Perfect. My companion and I brought up the rear of the group, and the other four passed the window and turned down the next hallway. Once we reached the window, I doubled over, moaning in pain. He fell for it again, hook, line, and sinker, crouching down to look at me.
“Hey, are you—”
As soon as he crouched down, I threw my shoulder into him, hard. I glimpsed the surprise on his face as he went down, tripping over my foot that I’d placed behind his, but I ducked through the open window, dropped onto the roof, and ran. My bruised body screamed in protest and my head swam, but the flood of adrenaline helped me push past it. My feet pounded across the concrete. Behind me, I heard bodies drop onto the roof in pursuit. I didn’t dare look back. The edge of the roof loomed in front of me, and I didn’t pause, throwing myself into the darkness and praying to any gods listening that I would land on something besides the ground.
I collided hard with a ramshackle patched-up tin roof and pain stabbed me through the chest making me gasp. My knees and palms burned as I tried to get a grip on the tin, slicing my skin on the sharp edges. I slid way too close to the edge before I finally stopped myself.
A body landed with a thud on the roof somewhere nearby, and I pushed myself up and took off again. The pain in my chest twisted with each breath, but I didn’t have time to examine it. No one yelled at me to stop, but they were trying to steal me from the mercs, so that made sense. I wished they were yelling so I could have some idea of their location.
The small buildings in this town sat almost on top of each other, sharing walls to reduce building materials, which meant I could easily run across the roofs but there wasn’t much cover. I jumped a crumbling stove pipe and made a sharp turn left. I couldn’t see my pursuer anywhere. I needed to get to the ground. It’d be easier to disappear—
A furious shout rang out and then gunfire erupted behind me.
I swore, flinging myself to the roof on my stomach. Bullets sprayed around me, but a stolen glance revealed it wasn’t the mysterious gang pursuing me. The mercs poured onto the roof.
The gang scattered, ducking for cover and returning fire. I swore again, trying to crawl forward on my stomach. I did not want to get stuck in the middle of a gang war. Again.
The gunfire moved away, and somebody let out a strangled scream. I started to scramble to my feet. I just needed to get off this damn roof before—
A body slammed into me, crushing me back down against the roof and knocking all the air from my lungs.
“Don’t move,” a voice growled in my ear.
His weight pinned me to the roof. I finally gasped in a lung full of air, and then bullets sprayed around us again, tearing up the tin roof. I tried to kick away from my captor, panicked.
