The Forever Song
Page 75
I easily cut it down and kicked it off the edge of the roof, letting it drop to the swarm below.
“You all right?” Zeke asked, coming up behind me. Dark blood streaked his arms, face and machete, but it wasn’t his own. His fangs glinted as he spoke. “What happened?”
I shook my head, wanting to explain what I’d seen with the rabid, but there was no time. “Nothing,” I said, facing the edge of the deck, and the long jump before it. “Ready for this?” I asked, shooting a quick glance at Zeke. “Can you make it?”
A rabid clawed its way up behind us and shrieked, and Zeke tensed. “I don’t have a choice. Go!”
I ran for the edge of the container and flung myself into empty space. Maybe it was the new knowledge that I was a Master vampire, or maybe I was just desperate, but it felt like I leaped higher than I ever had before. I struck the top of the deck with room to spare and instantly whirled, lunged forward, and grabbed Zeke as he fell toward the edge of the platform, yanking him to safety.
We sprawled on the deck for only a moment, tangled in each other, our fingers interlocked, before scrambling upright.
The open container sat at the edge of the barge, empty and hollow in the moonlight, and I sprinted toward it.
“Grab the chain!” I told Zeke, snatching a length of the massive, heavy links myself. The coils were huge, individual links larger than my fist. It wouldn’t snap, that was for certain.
I just had to make sure it wouldn’t break from the container.
Dragging it to the metal box, I searched for something to attach it to. Thick steel bars ran vertically up the back of the open doors; I wound the chain through them, then looked around for something to secure them in place.
“Allie!” Zeke tossed me a pipe. I grabbed it, shoved it through the metal links and, gritting my teeth, bent the pipe around the chain, twisting it several times.
There, I thought, taking a step back, surveying my handiwork. The chain was attached to the container, the doors already open. Now all we had to do was shove it overboard and hope that a huge metal box filled with water would be enough drag to turn the ship.
Something moved from the corner of my eye, and the blood froze in my veins.
No. It can’t be. He should be dead.
I whirled, shouting a desperate warning, and Zeke glanced up from where he was unwinding the heavy coils of chain.
Too late.
A long, curved blade erupted from Zeke’s chest, punching into the air and gleaming in the moonlight, and Zeke screamed. Sarren, dripping wet, fangs bared in a terrifying snarl, lifted him off his feet, pushing the impaled vampire into the air, and I roared.
Drawing my katana, I flew at Sarren, who swung his arm and hurled Zeke’s body away before turning on me. Zeke crashed to the deck several yards away, crying out in agony, and I closed on Sarren.
“Why won’t you just die!” I screamed, slashing my blade at the mad vampire, intending to cut him in half. No more taking chances; this time I’d sever his head, his legs, his other arm, his spine. I’d slice him into a dozen pieces and scatter them to different ends of the earth to make certain he was dead.
Sarren blocked my swing with his sword, lunged in, and grabbed my throat. Still insanely fast. I felt my feet leave the ground as my opponent lifted me up and slammed me onto the deck with a crash that made my head ring.
Sarren knelt above me, still pinning me by the throat. His face was pulled into a vicious snarl, his eyes blank and terrifying. Fear lanced through my stomach. There’d be no words this time, no toying with his prey, no taunts or hints or creepy poetry. I faced the true demon now, and it wasn’t interested in words. All it wanted was to rip me apart.
Sarren’s grip tightened, bony fingers closing like a vice, crushing my windpipe and turning the world red with pain.
One knee pinned my sword arm to the deck; I couldn’t move my arm, and watched as Sarren raised his sword, angling it toward my neck.
With a defiant snarl, I clenched my free hand into a fist and punched the arm at my throat as hard as I could, striking the elbow. There was a snap and Sarren toppled forward, the pressure at my throat loosening as he was thrown off-balance.
I shoved hard with my legs, bucking him over my head, then scrambled upright with my sword.
I barely had time to turn before he was on me again, hissing and baring his fangs. I dodged the first savage blow, deflected the second, and was hurled back as Sarren lunged in and kicked me in the chest. I hit the deck, rolled to my knees, and stabbed up as quickly as I could, almost without thinking.
A jolt went up my arms as Sarren hit the point of my blade, impaling himself through the stomach. He glanced down at the weapon through his gut, bared his fangs, and stepped forward, sliding along the katana edge and slashing his sword arm at my face.
I jerked back, managing to keep ahold of my weapon, wrenching the katana free in a spray of blood. Sarren didn’t even slow down as he attacked once more, driving me back across the deck. Blood drenched his front, dripping to the metal, but his eyes were crazed and glassy, beyond any pain.
Past his head, I caught a split-second glimpse of land, of the lights of the checkpoint, nearly upon us.
Snarling, I knocked away Sarren’s blade and slashed in with my own, desperate to end this. He dodged, the edge missing his head by centimeters, and lunged forward with an inhuman shriek. I jumped back, but hit the wall of the engine room, striking my head against the metal. In that moment of shock, Sarren stabbed forward, and the tip of his blade slammed into my shoulder, sinking deep and pinning me to the wall.
Agony flared. I howled and slashed at him, but his free hand shot out, striking my wrist as the blow came down, and my sword was knocked from my grasp, skidding across the deck.
Turning back, Sarren hissed and shoved the blade in deeper, twisting it as he did, and I screamed.
Zeke suddenly rammed into Sarren, hitting him from the side as he brought his machete slashing down at his neck. The impact sent another blaze of agony up my shoulder, setting it on fire, as the blade pinning me to the wall snapped with a metallic ringing sound, and Sarren lurched away with half a sword. Roaring, the mad vampire spun on Zeke, who faced him with his machete in hand, the other pressed to his chest.
His clothes were drenched with blood, and he could barely stand, his jaw clenched with pain and determination.
Zeke bared his fangs and slashed viciously at Sarren’s face, but his swing was wild, hindered by pain and blood loss. Sarren blocked easily and grabbed Zeke by the throat, lifting him up with a snarl. I grabbed the blade in my shoulder and, ignoring the jagged edge slicing my fingers, pulled it free, lunged at Sarren, and sank it into his back.
He whirled with a roar, backhanding me in the jaw, sending me flying. I hit the deck and rolled into the railing, crying out as everything blazed with pain. I couldn’t keep this up.
I was just about done. But I had to keep fighting. For Zeke, and Kanin, and everyone in Eden, I couldn’t let Sarren win.
I raised my head and caught a glint of metal, lying an arm’s length away. My sword. I tried to move, to reach for it, but footsteps echoed over the deck, and a shadow fell over me.
I looked up. Sarren stood there, pale and terrible in the darkness. He held Zeke against him, one arm circling his throat, gazing down at me over his shoulder. Zeke’s hands were empty of weapons, and he clawed futilely at the arm around his neck, his face tight.
“You all right?” Zeke asked, coming up behind me. Dark blood streaked his arms, face and machete, but it wasn’t his own. His fangs glinted as he spoke. “What happened?”
I shook my head, wanting to explain what I’d seen with the rabid, but there was no time. “Nothing,” I said, facing the edge of the deck, and the long jump before it. “Ready for this?” I asked, shooting a quick glance at Zeke. “Can you make it?”
A rabid clawed its way up behind us and shrieked, and Zeke tensed. “I don’t have a choice. Go!”
I ran for the edge of the container and flung myself into empty space. Maybe it was the new knowledge that I was a Master vampire, or maybe I was just desperate, but it felt like I leaped higher than I ever had before. I struck the top of the deck with room to spare and instantly whirled, lunged forward, and grabbed Zeke as he fell toward the edge of the platform, yanking him to safety.
We sprawled on the deck for only a moment, tangled in each other, our fingers interlocked, before scrambling upright.
The open container sat at the edge of the barge, empty and hollow in the moonlight, and I sprinted toward it.
“Grab the chain!” I told Zeke, snatching a length of the massive, heavy links myself. The coils were huge, individual links larger than my fist. It wouldn’t snap, that was for certain.
I just had to make sure it wouldn’t break from the container.
Dragging it to the metal box, I searched for something to attach it to. Thick steel bars ran vertically up the back of the open doors; I wound the chain through them, then looked around for something to secure them in place.
“Allie!” Zeke tossed me a pipe. I grabbed it, shoved it through the metal links and, gritting my teeth, bent the pipe around the chain, twisting it several times.
There, I thought, taking a step back, surveying my handiwork. The chain was attached to the container, the doors already open. Now all we had to do was shove it overboard and hope that a huge metal box filled with water would be enough drag to turn the ship.
Something moved from the corner of my eye, and the blood froze in my veins.
No. It can’t be. He should be dead.
I whirled, shouting a desperate warning, and Zeke glanced up from where he was unwinding the heavy coils of chain.
Too late.
A long, curved blade erupted from Zeke’s chest, punching into the air and gleaming in the moonlight, and Zeke screamed. Sarren, dripping wet, fangs bared in a terrifying snarl, lifted him off his feet, pushing the impaled vampire into the air, and I roared.
Drawing my katana, I flew at Sarren, who swung his arm and hurled Zeke’s body away before turning on me. Zeke crashed to the deck several yards away, crying out in agony, and I closed on Sarren.
“Why won’t you just die!” I screamed, slashing my blade at the mad vampire, intending to cut him in half. No more taking chances; this time I’d sever his head, his legs, his other arm, his spine. I’d slice him into a dozen pieces and scatter them to different ends of the earth to make certain he was dead.
Sarren blocked my swing with his sword, lunged in, and grabbed my throat. Still insanely fast. I felt my feet leave the ground as my opponent lifted me up and slammed me onto the deck with a crash that made my head ring.
Sarren knelt above me, still pinning me by the throat. His face was pulled into a vicious snarl, his eyes blank and terrifying. Fear lanced through my stomach. There’d be no words this time, no toying with his prey, no taunts or hints or creepy poetry. I faced the true demon now, and it wasn’t interested in words. All it wanted was to rip me apart.
Sarren’s grip tightened, bony fingers closing like a vice, crushing my windpipe and turning the world red with pain.
One knee pinned my sword arm to the deck; I couldn’t move my arm, and watched as Sarren raised his sword, angling it toward my neck.
With a defiant snarl, I clenched my free hand into a fist and punched the arm at my throat as hard as I could, striking the elbow. There was a snap and Sarren toppled forward, the pressure at my throat loosening as he was thrown off-balance.
I shoved hard with my legs, bucking him over my head, then scrambled upright with my sword.
I barely had time to turn before he was on me again, hissing and baring his fangs. I dodged the first savage blow, deflected the second, and was hurled back as Sarren lunged in and kicked me in the chest. I hit the deck, rolled to my knees, and stabbed up as quickly as I could, almost without thinking.
A jolt went up my arms as Sarren hit the point of my blade, impaling himself through the stomach. He glanced down at the weapon through his gut, bared his fangs, and stepped forward, sliding along the katana edge and slashing his sword arm at my face.
I jerked back, managing to keep ahold of my weapon, wrenching the katana free in a spray of blood. Sarren didn’t even slow down as he attacked once more, driving me back across the deck. Blood drenched his front, dripping to the metal, but his eyes were crazed and glassy, beyond any pain.
Past his head, I caught a split-second glimpse of land, of the lights of the checkpoint, nearly upon us.
Snarling, I knocked away Sarren’s blade and slashed in with my own, desperate to end this. He dodged, the edge missing his head by centimeters, and lunged forward with an inhuman shriek. I jumped back, but hit the wall of the engine room, striking my head against the metal. In that moment of shock, Sarren stabbed forward, and the tip of his blade slammed into my shoulder, sinking deep and pinning me to the wall.
Agony flared. I howled and slashed at him, but his free hand shot out, striking my wrist as the blow came down, and my sword was knocked from my grasp, skidding across the deck.
Turning back, Sarren hissed and shoved the blade in deeper, twisting it as he did, and I screamed.
Zeke suddenly rammed into Sarren, hitting him from the side as he brought his machete slashing down at his neck. The impact sent another blaze of agony up my shoulder, setting it on fire, as the blade pinning me to the wall snapped with a metallic ringing sound, and Sarren lurched away with half a sword. Roaring, the mad vampire spun on Zeke, who faced him with his machete in hand, the other pressed to his chest.
His clothes were drenched with blood, and he could barely stand, his jaw clenched with pain and determination.
Zeke bared his fangs and slashed viciously at Sarren’s face, but his swing was wild, hindered by pain and blood loss. Sarren blocked easily and grabbed Zeke by the throat, lifting him up with a snarl. I grabbed the blade in my shoulder and, ignoring the jagged edge slicing my fingers, pulled it free, lunged at Sarren, and sank it into his back.
He whirled with a roar, backhanding me in the jaw, sending me flying. I hit the deck and rolled into the railing, crying out as everything blazed with pain. I couldn’t keep this up.
I was just about done. But I had to keep fighting. For Zeke, and Kanin, and everyone in Eden, I couldn’t let Sarren win.
I raised my head and caught a glint of metal, lying an arm’s length away. My sword. I tried to move, to reach for it, but footsteps echoed over the deck, and a shadow fell over me.
I looked up. Sarren stood there, pale and terrible in the darkness. He held Zeke against him, one arm circling his throat, gazing down at me over his shoulder. Zeke’s hands were empty of weapons, and he clawed futilely at the arm around his neck, his face tight.
