Refugee

Chapter 2

"What is a chev...ro...let?"
"Excuse me?" Braith inquired in response to Aria's halting question.
Braith turned away from Ashby, his attention brought back to the twins as they studied something that he couldn't see. It was a little disconcerting how similar the scowls on their faces were. Aria turned to him, her gaze inquisitive while William simply continued to look aggravated. She had slipped the hood from her head again, as had William. Their dark auburn hair, dampened by sweat, gleamed in the bright light of the wastelands. It was an annoyingly bright homing beacon in this washed out land of little color. Frustration filled him as he stalked back to them; it was bad enough she didn't listen to him, but neither did her damn brother.
"That." Aria thrust her hand out to point at something hidden by a dilapidated building. What was left of the roof was sagging; the walls were leaning toward whatever Aria was pointing at. He stepped around the corner of the building, focusing upon the rusted out hunk of metal housed in what he now recognized as a garage. Years of bad weather and bright sun had stripped the vehicle of any semblance of its former glory except for the back end. The roof of the garage had held up over the ass end, and though it was rusted and falling apart, it was not in as bad of condition as the rest of the car. "What is that?"
"A Chevrolet," Braith informed her.
She blinked in surprise; her blue eyes were bright even though she squinted from the bright sun. "What?"
"It was an automobile."
"A what?" the twins asked simultaneously.
Ashby stopped whistling as he walked over to join them, he was grinning as he leaned back on his heels and folded his arms over his chest. Braith would like to punch him, not just for that smug look, but also for all the interference he'd been running between him and Aria for the past two weeks. He tried to tell himself that Ashby was simply missing Melinda and that was why he kept interfering, but Braith was growing tired of it all.
"An automobile," Braith explained. "At one time humans used them to get around."
Aria frowned at him; she looked completely confused as she glanced back at the hulking bucket of rust. "Why didn't they just walk?"
In her world he could understand that question, but a hundred years ago... Well, it had simply been different. "I don't know," he admitted. "They were fun though. I had one of these, and a Mustang."
"So, I had a mustang once too," William informed him.
Ashby guffawed loudly and even Braith nearly burst out laughing. He managed to keep it contained as both Aria and William shot Ashby disgruntled looks. "A Mustang was a different kind of automobile."
Aria's attention returned to the car, her head tilted to the side as she studied it inquisitively. "It doesn't look like it would get far, walking would be a lot quicker."
Ashby spun away and walked briskly to the corner of the building. Aria and William couldn't see him anymore but Braith clearly could. Ashby's shoulders shook with laughter as he covered his mouth in order to stifle the noise. "It didn't always look like this," Braith assured her.
"What did it look like?" William wondered.
"It was pretty, and it was fast. Very fast."
"Faster than a real mustang?" William inquired.
Ashby was laughing harder now and Braith wanted to throttle him. "Yes," Braith answered.
They both looked even more confused. Aria shook her head; her hair tumbled around her shoulders and down her back. For a moment he was captivated by the dark red color that flashed with strands of brilliant gold in the bright sun. "Weird," she muttered.
He didn't know how to explain to her that it hadn't been weird at the time. That he had, in fact, actually enjoyed his cars. "Why did they stop making them?" William asked.
Ashby had stopped laughing, he had turned back to them but there was no merriment left on his face. "There was no one to make them after the war was over. They required upkeep and without someone to do that..." Braith shrugged as he ran a hand through his hair. "After a time they became obsolete. Vampires don't need them to get around so no one particularly cared when they were gone."
Ashby had moved back to them, he was brave enough to lean against the building as he crossed one leg over the other. "Those first humans, the ones immediately after the war, must have had a tough time," Aria mused.
Braith had never thought about the humans after the war, never thought about how they had adjusted to their new, and far more brutal, lives. But he had also been newly blinded at the time, (by the jackass leaning against the garage that Braith hoped would crumple under his weight), and trying to adjust to his own difficulties. Turning his thoughts from the past, he grasped hold of her hood and tugged it back into place. She smiled at him; her eyes sparkled as he tucked her hair away and caressed her cheek.
"I'm sure they did," he agreed.
"Was it really so different?" she asked.
"It was." She peered up at him as his hands lingered on the hood of her cloak.
William took a step closer, curiosity evident in his eyes that were the same bright shade of blue as his sister's. "Why did it change so much?" William wondered.
Braith shrugged. "Technology was never a real necessity for us. I spent seven hundred years of my life without it. Don't get me wrong I enjoyed some of it, but I didn't mind seeing most of it go. My father and a lot of the others felt the same way. They didn't overtly try to get rid of most things, but they didn't try to maintain them either."
"What else was there besides automobiles?"
"There were trains and planes, computers and TV's; there was the internet and game stations, cell phones..."
"I never did like those things," Ashby muttered.
Braith silently agreed, they had been irritating as hell. "There were so many new things developing every day that at times it became impossible to keep up. We didn't get rid of it all. Indoor plumbing stayed, as did electricity, but that's mostly around the palace now. The outer areas didn't, and still don't, have the resources to sustain the upkeep for it.
"The golden chain," Aria's nose scrunched, resentment burned in her eyes at the reminder. "It's also part of that technology. It recognizes fingerprints, and only responds to the prints of the one that owns it. That's why only the owner can remove it from their slave. There is also a device in it that allows a slave to be tracked if they escape while wearing the chain."
"It should be done away with," Aria said fiercely.
He didn't argue with her, he'd never thought about it in the same way she did until he'd met her. Hell, she was the only person he'd ever put the chain on, and she still bore the faded marks on her wrist from that debacle. If they were successful he'd have a bonfire using the chains as fuel. "It will be," he promised. The way she smiled up at him would have made him promise her the moon too if she asked. "It will go the way of the automobile and guns."
"Guns?" William inquired.
"They were weapons," Ashby answered.
"And these weapons would kill you?"
"Not necessarily. They fired metal bullets, but we know you're ingenious little critters." Ashby informed William as he nudged his shoulder. "It was only a matter of time before you designed some type of wooden bullet. The king seized all guns and had all manufacturing plants razed. You're deadly with those bows and arrows, but they aren't nearly as fast as a bullet was."
"They sound interesting." Aria bit on her bottom lip as her eyebrows drew sharply together.
"I guess you could say that." Braith soothed the taut line in her forehead, tracing it with his finger until she smiled once more.
Even though he began to whistle, Ashby's eyes were hooded and guarded as he moved away from the building. They walked across the sand coated streets that had once been ribbons of asphalt that wound through the abandoned town. He remembered what it had been like before the war but he'd never seen the aftereffects of what his father had done until now. Beyond the acres and miles of woodlands and towns, there was nothing left of the earth, nothing inhabitable anyway.
He'd heard the rumors of the aftereffects of the war, the whispered talk of the empty lands, but he'd honestly thought that a lot of it was just rumor. Looking at it now, he realized just how wrong he'd been. The extent of the damage that had been done was devastating, and as he took in the vast Barrens he began to realize that his father had not shut down technology and advancements because he didn't need it, but because he had taken it and ruined the world with it. The king had been terrified that the same technology would one day be used against him.
For the first time he wondered if the rumored aristocrats were even still alive, or if they had perished in these forsaken lands as his father had intended.
"Was it better?" William pondered out loud.
"Depends on who you ask," Ashby replied. "Some vampires preferred the way things were, others wanted more." Ashby had preferred the way things were, while Braith's father had wanted more, much more, and he had gone to great lengths to get it. "I don't think there were many humans that preferred the way things became, but it wasn't all roses and candy back then either."
"Candy?" Aria inquired.
Ashby shook his head. He shoved back strands of shaggy dark blond hair as it fell across one of his bright green eyes. "Just something humans used to enjoy eating."
"Oh. Did you like it back then?" Braith glanced down at Aria as she gazed up at him from beneath the hood.
"I never really minded it." In fact, there were a few things he actually missed.
"I've heard stories about it," William mused. "It seemed wonderfully extravagant. I've heard there was plenty of food, homes everywhere, and that people had everything they required."
"Depends on who you were, where you lived," Ashby informed him. "Not everyone was so lucky, but there were many people that had such things, and many that didn't. Like I said, it wasn't all roses and candy."
"But it was better," Aria pressed.
"It was," Ashby finally agreed.
Braith stopped abruptly; pulling Aria up beside him he searched the stark landscape. Dilapidated buildings dotted the desert area. They were hollowed out remnants of what they had once been, with gaping windows and doorways. Most sagged beneath the weight of disuse and abuse.
The wind howled around them, blowing sand up, coating his glasses with fine particles of dust. They were deep into The Barrens now, far from the fertile lands they all knew well. Survivors out here were unpredictable and remorseless.
And there was something out there right now.
"Ashby," he said tensely.
Ashby had already stopped too, his head tilted to the side as he listened. Braith's hand tightened briefly around Aria's as he drew her back another step, pushing her behind him. It would do little good, he knew that she wouldn't stay there, but for now he was at least mostly in front of her. He heard the rustle of her cloak as she pulled her bow free.
"Aria," he growled in warning.
She didn't say anything but there was a low clink as she rested an arrow against the bow. The explosion of motion seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. He didn't have time to alert Ashby and William, it was too late anyway. Braith grabbed hold of Aria, spinning her out of the way as the first vampire slammed into his back. Braith was knocked forward beneath the impact of the weight; he braced himself as the creature tore ferociously at him.
Aria grunted as his arms momentarily constricted before he was forced to release her. He grasped at the creature clawing up his back, spilling his blood. Teeth snapped as it reached his neck, the scent of it was fetid and harsh. He finally managed to seize it; clutching its head as he pulled it over his shoulder and threw it away from him. The creature squealed, squirming on the sand as its attention was torn from him and focused solely upon Aria.
She took a startled step back. Her hand shook on the bow as the vampire launched to its feet and rushed at her. All of her fear vanished as she straightened her shoulders and lifted the bow. Her hand was steady as she released the arrow.
The vampire fell back beneath the impact of her clean shot, its hands clutched at its chest as it gurgled and squealed. Braith seized the creature, determined to spill its blood as rage overtook him. Fury swelled through him, ripping through his cells, and enhancing his strength. For a moment he teetered on the edge of madness, for a moment it felt so unbelievably good that he almost let go completely, almost gave in and let the monster take over.
And then the smell of her blood hit him. She pressed flush against his back as she sought to protect him. A shudder rocked through him as she brought him back from the brink he'd been standing upon. Even though it was dying, the vampire launched itself back at him.
He felt her elbow against his back as she took aim again; he was keenly reminded that there were more creatures out there as she let another arrow fly. He seized hold of the creature, and with swift brutality, finished it off. Aria let out a startled cry. Terror shot through him as he spun around. One of them had reached her, but not before catching her arrow in its shoulder.
She caught the creature under the chin as she swung her bow up, but it was too late. The pale, thin monster was already upon her, its hands grasped at her arms. The hood of her cloak had fallen back; her hair was the color of blood in the bright light. That ominous sign terrified Braith as the sweet scent of her blood hit the air.
The creature, enthralled by the prospect of fresh food launched itself forward. Braith wrapped his arm around Aria's chest, pulling her back as he seized the creature by the throat. It squealed as its hands swung in the air trying to grab hold of her again. He was going to kill it, going to destroy it, but he couldn't bring himself to release her, not quite yet. Her chest heaved against his arm; he could feel the rapid staccato of her heartbeat. Even over the squealing noises coming from the monstrosity he held, he could hear the subtle splash of her blood as it hit the sand.
She was bleeding, this creature had caused it.
Fury tore through him. His hand on her chest tightened, pulling her further back. In one violent motion he snapped the creature's neck and shoved it back. It was not dead, but for the moment it was disoriented by pain. Braith was more than happy to put it out of its misery.
And then he heard it, the stutter in her heartbeat.
His head snapped around, she was still standing in his arms, but her face had gone deathly pale, her lips were nearly white. The sleeves of her cloak had been shredded; the cloth hung in tatters. Blood slid down both arms, pooling at the ends of her fingertips before dripping onto the sand. Her arms were laid open nearly elbow to wrist.
Panic tore through him; he grasped hold of her, spinning her around as she staggered a little. Her normally bright, crystalline blue eyes were dull, almost lifeless.
He bit deep into his wrist, catching her as her knees buckled. He was shaking as they slid to the ground. He didn't even care about the creature still staggering before them, didn't look up to see if there were others coming. "Blood Aria, drink it!" They were the only words he could get out through the constriction of his chest and throat.
She closed her eyes for a moment before they sprang open. It seemed as if she was having difficulty focusing on him. "I'm fine Braith, the others. There are more of those things."
"I don't care."
He didn't wait to hear more of her protests; she was stubborn enough to keep offering them. He shoved his wrist into her mouth, desperate, praying that this would be enough to stop the flow of life he felt rapidly seeping from her. There was a moment of nothing, and then he felt her teeth nipping at his skin. Despite their circumstances, ecstasy tore through him at the sensations that suffused him. Her hands clenched around his arm as she drank deeply.
He couldn't stop the low moan of pleasure that escaped him as he leaned over her, embracing her against him. "Stay with me," he breathed into her ear.
She nodded as her eyes dazedly met his. The creature was already healing as it staggered back toward them, its eyes a vibrant red in its hollow face. Its sagging skin had taken on a yellowish, sickly hue. Lack of food and the sand and sun had turned this creature into a morbid version of a normal vampire; one that apparently had no sense of self-preservation anymore.
He pulled her against his chest, cradling her with one arm as he tried to shift himself into a better fighting position. It wasn't much use; he couldn't pull his arm away from her. If there was any chance for her survival, she would require his blood.
The creature was only feet from them when Ashby rammed the bony thing from behind, flinging it a good ten feet through the air. Ashby didn't hesitate as he rushed after it. William was suddenly before them; his upper lip was cut and bleeding. One of his eyes had already started to darken, and the sleeve of his cloak had been ripped, but otherwise he appeared uninjured.
Unable to stand the thought of someone else touching Aria, Braith almost ripped her away from William. He stopped himself from doing so, but couldn't stop the low growl that escaped him. William leaned back as he studied Braith warily. Aria tried to tug his wrist from her mouth as she squirmed against him in an attempt to get to her brother.
"It's alright," Braith grated through clenched teeth. "I won't harm him. Stop. Please Aria, you need my blood, he's safe I swear."
Aria relaxed against him but there was a lingering tension in her body. William continued to watch him suspiciously as he leaned slowly forward. He pulled Aria's arms toward him, finally looking away from Braith as he focused on her. Braith couldn't bring himself to look at her damaged and battered flesh again. The smell of her blood was enticing enough without seeing it too. Neither he, nor Ashby, had been feeding well; he shuddered, his fangs elongated instinctively. He closed his eyes as he fought against his baser, more driving urges.
"William, wrap her arms," he managed to grate out.
Sand and dust kicked up around Ashby as he slid to a stop before them. His eyes flared red as the scent of her blood hit him, something dark flickered over his face. "Get away Ashby!" Braith snarled. Ashby remained where he was, his shoulders heaving as his fangs sliced into his lower lip. William's hands had stilled on the cloth he was trying to rip into shreds. Aria was immobile against him, her breath frozen in her lungs. "Now Ashby! Now!"
His brother-in-law shook his head; his fangs retreated as his eyes flickered wildly between red and green. Ashby managed a small nod as he took a step back, and then another before he finally turned away. Relief filtered through Braith; he didn't want to have to kill Ashby but he would to keep Aria safe. He wanted to try and regain his trust in Ashby. Jack and Melinda trusted him, Aria and William seemed to, but Ashby was the one that had blinded him, and Braith was still uncertain about him.
William shredded the rest of Aria's ruined sleeves and began to slowly wrap her brutalized arms in the coarse material. She squirmed in his lap; her eyes squeezed shut as her mouth twisted. Braith bent closer to her hair, inhaling her sweet scent as he tried to calm himself. As her pain suffused him, he kept reminding himself that William was helping. Even though Braith told himself this, his emotions were swinging on a precarious pendulum between rage, dread, and famine. He was unstable, deadly if unleashed, and the only thing that helped to soothe him was her. He savored her scent, the feel of her teeth against his skin, the gentle pull of his blood seeping slowly into her system. His blood would heal her, it would be enough. It had to be, there were no other options. She would die if it didn't.
Aria jerked against him. Braith's head snapped up, an involuntary snarl escaped him. William flinched but continued to wrap her arms in the cloth. "I'm sorry," he whispered his gaze worriedly darting to Braith.
William tied the last knot and sat back on his heels as he studied his sister. Aria squeezed William's arm briefly before slipping lifelessly away. It took Braith a frantic moment to realize that her chest was still rising and falling. Her heart was beating, slowly and far too erratically for his liking, but it was there and it was getting stronger.
Braith was painfully aware of the fact that she had managed to stay conscious long enough for her brother to finish what he was doing.