Read The Last Mile for Free Online Page B

he doesn’t spoil. Soooooo …what do you think?”
    Alice smiled, her growling stomach answering for her.
    * * *
    “You’re a thrall, right? You got the mark.”
    Dan damn well knew he had the mark. It had appeared on his forehead soon after the cow-thing had vomited its rancid milk on him: a scar-tissue design of spirals and intersecting lines that never seemed to be in the same exact configuration whenever he examined it in the mirror. And even when it didn’t burn—and it was blazing like a motherfucking house fire right now—he could always feel it, as if it were a living tattoo whose ink flowed beneath his skin like a slow but constant tide.
    The two of them walked alongside the road, the dead-gray ground giving slightly beneath their weight as if it were formed not of soil but rather some spongelike substance. Dan, 9mm in his right hand, hunting knife in his left, walked several paces behind the girl. She was of medium height and didn’t look all that strong, but you didn’t willingly turn your back on anyone in the World After. Not if you wanted to survive a few minutes longer. He’d cut the tape around her ankles, but he’d left her wrists bound. If they ran into more trouble like that deer-thing, she wouldn’t be able to fight, but he couldn’t risk freeing her hands. She’d turn on him to save her own skin or try to make a run for it. With her hands bound, she’d be less likely to attack, and if she tried to take off, she’d be unbalanced and awkward. She’d have to run slow or she’d trip and fall. Either way, she wouldn’t escape him.
    Of course, his reasoning assumed that she was sane, and these days, that was a mighty big assumption, one that could easily get you killed. But he didn’t have any choice. His thrall-mark burned like acid, a constant, agonizing reminder of his Master’s impatience. Dan had to deliver the girl and soon, or else… Well, he didn’t know what else, not precisely, but he knew it would be bad. Damned bad, in the truest sense of the adjective.
    The World After was chock-a-block full of delicious little ironies like that, he thought.
    As they continued walking, Dan swept his gaze back and forth, alert for any sign of a threat. After a bit, the girl looked over her shoulder at him.
    “Where are you taking me?”
    Dan didn’t want to talk; his tongue still hurt like a bitch from when he’d bit it. He glanced to his left, saw thorn-stalks waving in the breeze. Except, of course, there was no wind. The air was still and stale, like the inside of a closet that hadn’t been aired out for years. At least the goddamned things couldn’t reach them here. They were ten feet from the road, and Dan had never seen a thorn-stalk stretch that far. But then again, that didn’t mean one couldn’t reach them, not if it really wanted to. He sighed. Life had never come with any guarantees: that much at least hadn’t changed.
    “If you don’t answer me, I’ll sit down and refuse to move,” the girl said without turning to face him this time.
    Despite himself, Dan responded. “I’ll just carry you.” His speech sounded a little funny due to his wounded tongue, but his words were understandable enough.
    “All the way to wherever it is you’re taking me?” She sounded amused. “Even if you were still eating regular, I bet you wouldn’t be strong enough to carry me that far.”
    Dan knew she was baiting him, hoping to stall and learn what she could so she could use it to save herself. Even so, her cavalier attitude was beginning to get on his nerves. “I eat just fine. So does my family.”
    “That’s right. You’re a thrall .” She emphasized the word as if it were some sort of disgusting insect that should be stepped on immediately and ground into the earth with as much force as possible. “You get food, water, and electricity, don’t you? All for serving your Master.”
    “Yes.” Food—canned goods, and even fresh fruits and vegetables—was delivered to his