The Forever Song
Page 23
“Well, shit. There are the rest of ’em. I was wondering where they were hiding.”
“Allison!” Kanin called, as the shouts and gunshots grew louder. “Wait for us! We’ll find another way up! Do not take on Sarren by yourself, do you understand?”
A yell echoed somewhere below, and bullets ricocheted off the walls. “We gotta move, old man,” Jackal yelled, his voice booming through the stairwell. “Now!”
“Kanin!” I called, but there was no answer. Kanin and Jackal had already moved back into the room. I listened as the screams, shots and roars of furious vampires raged below for a few seconds, then faded away, growing distant as if the fight had left the room. Or as if Jackal and Kanin had fled, taking the army with them.
Alone in the stairwell, I straightened, backed away from the cave-in, and gazed up the stairs. He was up there, somewhere. Waiting for me. Everything he’d done so far—the trap, the horrible message…Zeke’s heart—was to separate me from my group. He wasn’t interested in Kanin and Jackal.
He wanted me.
Okay, you bastard, I thought, gripping my blade. A cold resolve filled my heart, and I glanced up the stairwell. You want me? Here I come.
I met no one on my journey up the tower, probably because all the raiders were busy dealing with Jackal and Kanin.
I desperately hoped they were all right, though it was pointless to worry; I couldn’t help them now.
The long, twisting stairwell went on, dark and empty but never silent. The stairs creaked under my weight, and every so often a rusty groan would echo through the shaft, making my skin crawl. I tried not to imagine the whole thing collapsing beneath me, and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.
As I neared the top, the scent of old blood hit me, faint and indistinct, and I proceeded more cautiously. Reaching another landing, I stopped, stifling the tiny ripple of fear that crawled up my spine. Overhead, a light flickered, casting erratic, disjointed shadows over the wall, and the message written on it in blood.
Almost there, little bird.
I swallowed hard. Almost there, I agreed. And you’re going to pay for what you did to him. Watch me, Zeke. I’ll send your kil er to hel , and I’ll smile while I’m doing it.
Gripping my katana, I climbed the final few steps to the top landing, wrenched open the door, and stepped through.
A long hallway greeted me, lined with windows on one side, most of them blown out or shattered. Far below, Old Chicago huddled in the shadows and dark water, and beyond it, the moon glimmered off the surface of the enormous Lake Michigan, stretching over the horizon.
I began walking toward the door at the very end of the hall, feeling as if I’d been here before. As I passed another corridor, I glanced down and saw a darkened elevator shaft along the walls, and everything jolted into place. I had been here, on this very floor, when I’d tried to rescue Jeb. I’d come up through the elevator instead of the stairwell. And I knew where I had to go. Through the door at the end of the hall was the laboratory, where Jebbadiah Crosse had died. Where I’d met Jackal for the first time.
Where Sarren waited for me now.
The door loomed dead ahead, and I didn’t stop. I didn’t pause to reconsider my plan. Whether I was walking into a trap or straight to my death. Katana at my side, I strode up to the door and kicked it below the knob. It flew open with a crash, nearly ripped off its hinges, and I stepped into the room.
The lab was dark, silent, and I paused in the frame, listening. When I’d been here last, it had been brightly lit, with no shadows or dark corners to hide in. I stepped through the door, sword out, searching for my enemy.
“Sarren,” I called, easing forward, wary of traps and explosions, or a sudden horde of raiders pouring out to shoot at me.
But the room remained silent. Still wary, I stepped through the doorway, a sense of familiarity stealing over me as I gazed around. I remembered this place. There was the desk and the ancient computer in the corner, mostly undisturbed, though the screen was dark and shattered now. There was the counter, covered in broken beakers and chips of glass, where Jackal had held me down and rammed a stake through my gut. And beyond it, the wall of cracked and shattered windows, through which my brother had fallen to his supposed death, glinted in the darkness, the remaining shards of glass sharp and lethal.
I paused. A chair sat against the back wall, silhouetted against the glass of an unbroken window and the night sky.
The floor around it was streaked with old blood, and the scent reached me a moment later, stirring the Hunger. Wondering if this was Sarren’s latest handiwork, I eased forward a bit, then froze.
A body sat in the chair, slumped forward with its head bowed, arms tied behind the chair back. The body was still, far too still to be alive. A raider, perhaps? I edged closer, study-ing the corpse. Moonlight filtered through the glass and cast a dark shadow over the floor, outlining the lean, ragged body, glimmering off its pale hair.
Oh, God…
My katana dropped from nerveless fingers, striking the ground with a clink. I couldn’t move. My mind had snapped; I was seeing things that weren’t there. Because I knew this wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. He was dead; I’d listened to him die.
Dazed, I took one step forward, then stopped, clenching my fists. No, I told myself furiously. Don’t believe it, Allison.
That’s what Sarren wants. This was a trick. A ploy to make me fall apart. Like the heart in the stairwell. Sarren was playing me, and if I went up to that body, it would explode, or trigger a trap, or leap up and try to kill me. It wasn’t him. Or maybe it was, and I’d walk up only to see a half-rotted corpse with a gaping hole in his chest where his heart had been.
“It’s not him.” My voice was resolute. Squeezing my eyes shut, I bowed my head, cutting off my emotions. Willing myself to believe my own words. This would not work. I would not give Sarren the satisfaction of breaking me. Zeke was dead. It still killed me, ripped me to pieces inside, but I knew he was gone. “It’s not him,” I said again, a cold numbness settling around my heart. Reaching down, I picked up my sword, rose with icy resolve, and deliberately turned from the body. “Stop hiding,” I told the darkness and shadows. “I am not falling for it. Come out and face me, you f**king psychopath. I’m done playing games.”
“Allison?”
My stomach dropped, and for the second time that night, the world froze. Sarren might be able to disguise a body. He might even be able to alter a corpse, make it look like someone I knew, someone I longed to see again. He could not disguise a voice. Especially one so familiar, one that had been on my mind for weeks, in my thoughts every single day. A voice I’d thought I would never hear again.
Slowly, I turned. The body in the chair hadn’t moved, still slumped forward with its head bowed. But as I watched, it stirred, raising its head…and I felt the earth shatter as his familiar, piercing blue eyes met mine across the floor.
“Hey, vampire girl,” Zeke whispered, his voice slightly choked. “I knew…you’d come for me.”
This…can’t be real.
I stared at the body across from me, unable to process what was happening, not daring to believe. This was wrong; it had to be a trap. Sarren was still playing his sick games, and in a moment this would all fall apart. I couldn’t start believing, didn’t dare to hope. My heart was just beginning to heal from being so brutally shattered; if I started to hope, only to have that hope crushed again, I didn’t know if I would recover.
“Allison!” Kanin called, as the shouts and gunshots grew louder. “Wait for us! We’ll find another way up! Do not take on Sarren by yourself, do you understand?”
A yell echoed somewhere below, and bullets ricocheted off the walls. “We gotta move, old man,” Jackal yelled, his voice booming through the stairwell. “Now!”
“Kanin!” I called, but there was no answer. Kanin and Jackal had already moved back into the room. I listened as the screams, shots and roars of furious vampires raged below for a few seconds, then faded away, growing distant as if the fight had left the room. Or as if Jackal and Kanin had fled, taking the army with them.
Alone in the stairwell, I straightened, backed away from the cave-in, and gazed up the stairs. He was up there, somewhere. Waiting for me. Everything he’d done so far—the trap, the horrible message…Zeke’s heart—was to separate me from my group. He wasn’t interested in Kanin and Jackal.
He wanted me.
Okay, you bastard, I thought, gripping my blade. A cold resolve filled my heart, and I glanced up the stairwell. You want me? Here I come.
I met no one on my journey up the tower, probably because all the raiders were busy dealing with Jackal and Kanin.
I desperately hoped they were all right, though it was pointless to worry; I couldn’t help them now.
The long, twisting stairwell went on, dark and empty but never silent. The stairs creaked under my weight, and every so often a rusty groan would echo through the shaft, making my skin crawl. I tried not to imagine the whole thing collapsing beneath me, and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.
As I neared the top, the scent of old blood hit me, faint and indistinct, and I proceeded more cautiously. Reaching another landing, I stopped, stifling the tiny ripple of fear that crawled up my spine. Overhead, a light flickered, casting erratic, disjointed shadows over the wall, and the message written on it in blood.
Almost there, little bird.
I swallowed hard. Almost there, I agreed. And you’re going to pay for what you did to him. Watch me, Zeke. I’ll send your kil er to hel , and I’ll smile while I’m doing it.
Gripping my katana, I climbed the final few steps to the top landing, wrenched open the door, and stepped through.
A long hallway greeted me, lined with windows on one side, most of them blown out or shattered. Far below, Old Chicago huddled in the shadows and dark water, and beyond it, the moon glimmered off the surface of the enormous Lake Michigan, stretching over the horizon.
I began walking toward the door at the very end of the hall, feeling as if I’d been here before. As I passed another corridor, I glanced down and saw a darkened elevator shaft along the walls, and everything jolted into place. I had been here, on this very floor, when I’d tried to rescue Jeb. I’d come up through the elevator instead of the stairwell. And I knew where I had to go. Through the door at the end of the hall was the laboratory, where Jebbadiah Crosse had died. Where I’d met Jackal for the first time.
Where Sarren waited for me now.
The door loomed dead ahead, and I didn’t stop. I didn’t pause to reconsider my plan. Whether I was walking into a trap or straight to my death. Katana at my side, I strode up to the door and kicked it below the knob. It flew open with a crash, nearly ripped off its hinges, and I stepped into the room.
The lab was dark, silent, and I paused in the frame, listening. When I’d been here last, it had been brightly lit, with no shadows or dark corners to hide in. I stepped through the door, sword out, searching for my enemy.
“Sarren,” I called, easing forward, wary of traps and explosions, or a sudden horde of raiders pouring out to shoot at me.
But the room remained silent. Still wary, I stepped through the doorway, a sense of familiarity stealing over me as I gazed around. I remembered this place. There was the desk and the ancient computer in the corner, mostly undisturbed, though the screen was dark and shattered now. There was the counter, covered in broken beakers and chips of glass, where Jackal had held me down and rammed a stake through my gut. And beyond it, the wall of cracked and shattered windows, through which my brother had fallen to his supposed death, glinted in the darkness, the remaining shards of glass sharp and lethal.
I paused. A chair sat against the back wall, silhouetted against the glass of an unbroken window and the night sky.
The floor around it was streaked with old blood, and the scent reached me a moment later, stirring the Hunger. Wondering if this was Sarren’s latest handiwork, I eased forward a bit, then froze.
A body sat in the chair, slumped forward with its head bowed, arms tied behind the chair back. The body was still, far too still to be alive. A raider, perhaps? I edged closer, study-ing the corpse. Moonlight filtered through the glass and cast a dark shadow over the floor, outlining the lean, ragged body, glimmering off its pale hair.
Oh, God…
My katana dropped from nerveless fingers, striking the ground with a clink. I couldn’t move. My mind had snapped; I was seeing things that weren’t there. Because I knew this wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. He was dead; I’d listened to him die.
Dazed, I took one step forward, then stopped, clenching my fists. No, I told myself furiously. Don’t believe it, Allison.
That’s what Sarren wants. This was a trick. A ploy to make me fall apart. Like the heart in the stairwell. Sarren was playing me, and if I went up to that body, it would explode, or trigger a trap, or leap up and try to kill me. It wasn’t him. Or maybe it was, and I’d walk up only to see a half-rotted corpse with a gaping hole in his chest where his heart had been.
“It’s not him.” My voice was resolute. Squeezing my eyes shut, I bowed my head, cutting off my emotions. Willing myself to believe my own words. This would not work. I would not give Sarren the satisfaction of breaking me. Zeke was dead. It still killed me, ripped me to pieces inside, but I knew he was gone. “It’s not him,” I said again, a cold numbness settling around my heart. Reaching down, I picked up my sword, rose with icy resolve, and deliberately turned from the body. “Stop hiding,” I told the darkness and shadows. “I am not falling for it. Come out and face me, you f**king psychopath. I’m done playing games.”
“Allison?”
My stomach dropped, and for the second time that night, the world froze. Sarren might be able to disguise a body. He might even be able to alter a corpse, make it look like someone I knew, someone I longed to see again. He could not disguise a voice. Especially one so familiar, one that had been on my mind for weeks, in my thoughts every single day. A voice I’d thought I would never hear again.
Slowly, I turned. The body in the chair hadn’t moved, still slumped forward with its head bowed. But as I watched, it stirred, raising its head…and I felt the earth shatter as his familiar, piercing blue eyes met mine across the floor.
“Hey, vampire girl,” Zeke whispered, his voice slightly choked. “I knew…you’d come for me.”
This…can’t be real.
I stared at the body across from me, unable to process what was happening, not daring to believe. This was wrong; it had to be a trap. Sarren was still playing his sick games, and in a moment this would all fall apart. I couldn’t start believing, didn’t dare to hope. My heart was just beginning to heal from being so brutally shattered; if I started to hope, only to have that hope crushed again, I didn’t know if I would recover.
