“Well,” Dr. Wynne said, sitting next to Nola’s bed, “you have a concussion. But you’re awake, so a good rest is all we can do for that. The knife didn’t go too deep, and thankfully it missed all the really important bits or you would have bled to death before they got you to me. You’ve been stitched up, and I’ve given you everything I can to make sure you don’t get an infection.”
“There’s a hole in me?” Nola said, bile burning her throat at the thought.
“Yes, and no.” Dr. Wynne took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. “I may have tried something a little… experimental.”
“Experimental?”
“I needed to heal the wound as quickly as possible, and we have such limited resources.” Dr. Wynne’s hands fluttered through the air.
“What did you do?”
“Well, after doing as much as I could”—Dr. Wynne looked at the ceiling—“I gave you a few tiny injections of ReVamp.”
Nola’s heart raced as though trying to prove its lack of humanity.
“It was all very localized,” Dr. Wynne added quickly. “You should have no long term effects. Your body temperature and heart rate are still very normal. And I must say the wound has healed exquisitely. Once you’re rehydrated and can get up and moving, I would say you should be just fine in a few days. Maybe less. As I said, it was an experiment. And the rate of healing has been extraordinary.”
“So, you didn’t make me a…” Nola couldn’t bring herself to say the word.
“Vampire?” Dr. Wynne shook his head. “No. Though if you hadn’t woken up soon, a full injection may have been the only choice. But it seemed, under the circumstances, that your return to the domes would be infinitely more difficult if you had become a vampire.”
“I don’t think they’ll take me back.” Nola stared at her red hands. “I left. I went outside, without permission, to help vampires. I don’t think that’s the sort of thing the domes will take me back from.”
“Don’t give up hope yet,” Emanuel’s voice came from behind the bed.
Nola struggled to sit up, and in a moment Kieran sat beside her, supporting her weight.
“Emanuel,” Nola began, the words tumbling out, “the Outer Guard. They know about Nightland. They know there’s a huge group of vampires living together underground. They think you’re all working together, planning to attack the domes. And they’re looking for you. They want to destroy you. And they’re getting closer to finding you. They could be at 5th and Nightland right now, trying to break in. You have to get everyone out of here. It’s not safe anymore.”
Emanuel considered Nola for a moment, his black eyes narrowed. “How do they know about Nightland?”
“I have no idea,” Nola said. “But they do.”
“How do you know?” Emanuel asked.
“Jeremy Ridgeway.” Nola’s face flushed.
Emanuel’s eyes flicked to her cheeks, and more heat flooded her face.
“His father is the head of the Outer Guard,” Nola said. “I saw guards coming out of his house in full uniform. I asked why, and Jeremy told me.”
“Why?” Emanuel asked. “Is it common knowledge in the domes?”
“No.” Nola shook her head. “Jeremy’s father told him about Nightland because Jeremy is joining the Outer Guard next month. And Jeremy told me because”—Nola thought of Jeremy sitting with her in the dark—“because he trusts me.”
Kieran stiffened by her side.
“And why did you come to tell us?” Emanuel turned his gaze to the ceiling. “Why did you place warning us over the trust of Jeremy?”
“Because,” Nola said, balling her red, scarred hands into fists, “you are good people. It’s not your fault you have to live out here. You’re doing the best you can. You aren’t going to attack the domes, so how could I let the guards attack you? It would be a slaughter. They have weapons—”
“We are well guarded.” Emanuel knelt in front of Nola, taking her hands in his own. “We have more protection than the guards can comprehend. But knowing they are coming, we can ensure that when they arrive we can turn them away without unnecessary violence. You have saved lives in coming here, Nola. You were incredibly brave.”
“Thank you.” The words caught in Nola’s throat.
“I will make sure you are not punished for your bravery,” Emanuel said. “We will find a way to get you home.”
“They won’t want me.”
“There may be a way. A way that will get you home and save lives in Nightland.” Emanuel stood to leave. “Kieran, please see that she has food and fresh clothing. I’ll go speak to the others and see what we can think up to save our hero.” He nodded to Nola and left.
“I’ll be right back,” Kieran said, gently squeezing Nola’s hand before following Emanuel.
“Well,” Dr. Wynne said after a long moment. “Let’s check your bandages, shall we?” He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Lean forward.”
It wasn’t until that moment Nola realized she wasn’t wearing her own clothes. She had been changed into an old hospital gown. It was worn, soft, and tattered around the edges.
Nola winced as Dr. Wynne pulled the sticky bandage from her skin.
“Hmmm,” Dr. Wynne murmured as he ran his fingers across her back.
“What?” Nola asked. “Is it infected? Am I becoming a vampire?”
“Not a bit,” Dr. Wynne said. “It’s even better than I expected.”
Nola pushed herself to her feet, tottering for a moment before stumbling to the cracked mirror in the corner of the room. Pulling the robe down over her shoulder, she twisted to see her back in the mirror.
“Careful,” Dr. Wynne warned. “You don’t want to tear anything that’s newly mended.”
Then her eyes found it. A red, raised, jagged mark three inches long right under her left shoulder blade.
“You’re very lucky you were wearing the guard’s coat. Otherwise the knife would have penetrated your lungs. And that”—Dr. Wynne spread his hands—“would have been a very different story.”
“It looks like it happened months ago,” Nola said, trying to touch the mark.
“She shouldn’t be standing,” Kieran said as he came back through the door, balancing a plate on top of a pile of clothes.
“I feel better standing.” Nola studied her face in the mirror. She looked pale, like she hadn’t slept for days, but otherwise healthy. The only marks on her were the scar on her back and the red of her hands.
“You should feel better the more you move.” Dr. Wynne smiled. “I gave you another tiny bit of ReVamp this morning.” He waved away the frightened look on Nola’s face. “You needed it to heal. And as I said, no lasting effects. And the more the drug is circulated, the better you’ll recover.”
“That’s remarkable.” Nola rubbed her fingers over the tight red skin on her hands.
“It seemed a bit much,” Dr. Wynne said, his brows furrowed, “to give you localized ReVamp injections in your hands just to fix the inflamed skin. The chance for infection is so small, it’s really only cosmetic damage, and they can mend that in the domes.”
If I ever get back into the domes.
“Thank you.” She pushed her face into a smile. “Thank you for saving my life. ReVamp...what it can do is amazing. We don’t have anything that can do this in the domes.”
“You need to eat,” Kieran said, pulling out the desk chair and setting down the plate of food.
“Right.” Nola swallowed the lump in her throat. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of food. She hadn’t eaten since the domes.
She looked down at the food on the plate. Some sort of chopped vegetables she had never seen before lay next to a hunk of bread and a small bit of meat.
“I know it’s not what you’re used to,” Kieran said, handing Nola a fork as she sat down at the desk, “but it’s not bad.”
“But will,” Nola said, glancing between Kieran and Dr. Wynne, “will it make me sick?”
“This
is good food,” Dr. Wynne said. “It’s the best we have.”
“I’m sorry,” Nola said. “I didn’t mean—”
“It would take years for you to get sick from this,” Kieran said. “It may not be dome-pure, but Nightland spends a lot of time finding the best soil we can. We work hard to keep the irrigation water clean. This is better than anything you’ll get on the streets.”
“Thank you,” Nola said. “For sharing.” She took a bite of the vegetables, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the metallic taste of the food.
“That’s the ReVamp.” Dr. Wynne perched on the edge of the desk. “The unfortunate taste should dissipate as you metabolize more food. The meals here really aren’t that bad.”
“Why do vampires grow food?” Nola choked down another bite.
“For the kids,” Kieran said. “For the people in the city who don’t have anything to eat.”
“Vampires feed people?”
“The ones in Nightland do,” Kieran said. “Emanuel doesn’t want to keep everyone in Nightland forever.”
Dr. Wynne stood, clapping his hands together. “I’m sure Emanuel will be back any minute with a plan to get Nola out of here, and she should be dressed.” He walked out of the room, holding the door open for Kieran to follow.
“I’ll be right back,” Kieran said.
The door shut behind them, leaving Nola alone. She took a bite of the bread, hoping the tinny taste would be different. It wasn’t.
She picked up the clothes that had been left for her. Thick black pants and a stitched-together black leather top. Both were worn and patched in places.
Nola dug the heel of her hand into her forehead. She was alive, that was good. They wanted to get her back to the domes, also good. Dr. Wynne was hiding something from her. Badly. Not so good.
Chapter Eighteen
She pulled on the clothes without letting herself consider the rough texture of the leather against her bare skin. They had been made for someone larger than her, with muscle and curves Nola lacked.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Are you dressed yet?” Kieran called.
“Yes?” Nola said tentatively, staring at her pale face and leather-clad body in the mirror.
I look like I belong in Nightland.
Kieran came in, not bothering to suppress his laugh as he saw her.
“Thanks.” Nola grimaced, taking another bite of the bread and instantly regretting it as the metallic taste flooded her mouth.
“You look great.” Kieran ran a hand through his hair. “Just not like you. It’s going to take them a while to figure things out. Emanuel has a grand plan, but they still have to iron out the details.”
“What kind of grand plan?” Nola pushed the food around her plate, searching for an appetizing bite.
“Emanuel doesn’t usually share his plans with me,” Kieran said, his face darkening for a moment, “but I trust him.”
“What were you saying before, about Emanuel wanting to get people out of Nightland?” Nola looked into Kieran’s eyes, seeking a real answer.
“Nothing.”
“Then why did your father make you leave?”
Kieran grinned. “You know him so well.”
Nola waited in silence.
“There’s a lot of land, other places away from the domes,” Kieran whispered, his words flowing more quickly as he spoke. “There are places where the soil isn’t as bad. Where there isn’t a polluted river in the backyard. The domes were built here because they needed the city for laborers. But they abandoned the city as soon as the domes were ready. Why should we sit here waiting to die if there’s something better out there?” He stretched his arms to the sky through the dirt above them.
“Why didn’t your father want me to know?”
“Emanuel doesn’t want the domes to know.” Anger crept into his voice. “He’s worried they won’t want us to build a good place of our own.”
“Aboveground?”
“For Eden,” Kieran said. “The vampires can’t stay in the light.”
“But the food,” Nola asked. “Do you grow it underground?”
“I was sort of hoping you’d ask.” Kieran’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “I think you’ll be amazed with what we’ve done.” He stood, walking toward the door before reaching a hand back to Nola. “Come with me?”
Nola stood and took his hand, not caring where he led her.
They were in the same part of Nightland where she had seen Eden. They passed the kitchen, but the little girl with the big brown eyes was nowhere to be seen.
“Eden,” Nola asked as they slipped into the gallery, “is she—”
“She’s fine.” Kieran beamed. “The medicine helped. She can breathe now. I actually had to chase her this morning. We had a hard time keeping her out of your room.”
“Why?”
He led her out into the tunnel and in the direction of 5th and Nightland.
“You’re her hero, Nola,” Kieran said, stopping and turning to face Nola so quickly she ran into him. “Literally. You saved her life.” He ran a finger over her cheek. “You are braver than even I imagined.” He turned and continued walking down the hall. “And now you’ve come to save all of us.”
“The Outer Guard,” Nola said as Kieran pushed through a heavy metal door and into a narrower tunnel. The low ceiling left only a few inches of clearance over Kieran’s head. “Emanuel may think they can’t get into Nightland, but they could. They’re...” She searched for a less cowardly word than terrifying. “You know them. They aren’t like everyone else in the domes. If they decide to come in here, they won’t stop because they’re destroying your home.”
“Or killing people,” Kieran growled. “I know. We know. But they don’t know us. And when they try to come after us, they’ll see. This isn’t their city. It’s ours.”
They walked in silence for a moment, the tunnel becoming narrower and the lights dimmer. Sweat beaded on Nola’s palms, burning the raw skin. She could feel the anger radiating from Kieran, overpowering her panic at being in the tunnel. He stopped at a dead end. Crumbling concrete and dirt had caved in the wall in front of them.
“What happened?” Nola asked. “Did a cave-in cover the garden?”
“We found our own way up.” Kieran pointed at the ceiling above him to a narrow hole and a thin metal ladder. “You first.”
Nola reached above her head to the ladder, but this was more than climbing out her window or even up the vent. Her fingers only grazed the bottom of the first rung.
Kieran’s hands closed around her waist, and he lifted her up over his head. Nola grabbed for the ladder, gasping. “Thanks.” Her arms shook, and the skin on her palms stung as she began to climb.
With a ringing thunk that shook the ladder, she felt Kieran launch himself onto the bottom rung. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a breath before continuing to climb. Soon, even the dim light from the tunnel had disappeared. Nola groped the air in front of her, feeling for each rung to pull herself up.
“How far up are we going?” she asked after a few minutes when her muscles burned in protest.
“About 124 rungs,” Kieran answered.
“Was I supposed to be counting?” Nola puffed.
“Nope,” Kieran said, adding slowly, “but you should start watching your head… now.”
Nola froze, waiting for something to swoop out of the blackness at her face.
“Reach up,” Kieran’s voice drifted through the darkness.
Hesitantly, Nola reached one hand overhead. Cold, flat metal blocked the path above her. She pushed, and the metal lifted easily, letting in a flood of outside air and the faint glow of the moon through the haze of the city. Giving the door a heave, she flipped it open with a loud clang, then climbed out into the night and onto a roof high above the city.
Rows of plants stretched out in front of her. Scraps of every kind had been used to make raised beds for the garden. A row of beans was surrounded by planks of an
old painted sign for The Freshest Oxygen Bar in Town. An apple tree grew in the broken bed of a truck. Rows of melons sprouted from the base of an old shipping container.
“How?” Nola breathed, running her fingers along the leaves of a plant. The texture was perfect. No damage from the acid rain, no signs of blight.
“It takes a lot.” Kieran leapt onto the edge of the old truck and pulled a red apple down from the tree. “We had to get miles away to find soil that wasn’t contaminated by the old factories. It took a few months to find the right spot. By then, we had found enough planting containers, though getting them up here was a chore. We had to make sure none of the Outer Guard saw us hauling old truck beds up the side of the building.”
“But they could have helped.” Nola leaned in close to the apple tree and smelled the earth. The scent was different from the dirt in the domes, less pungent in its fertility, but still clean and fruitful. Free from the chemicals that flowed through the river.
“I don’t think they want to help vampires.” Kieran tossed the apple to Nola. “Even if the vampires are growing food for starving kids.”
Nola ran her thumb along the smooth red skin of the apple. “But the forest, the trees there are dying from the rain. The chemicals burn them.”
“These plants aren’t watered with rain. Stay here.” Kieran ran down the rows of strange planters.
Nola held the apple up to the moonlight. The fruit didn’t match the size of those grown inside the glass, and the skin lacked the luscious, vibrant color expected of Lenora Kent’s crops. It couldn’t match the perfection of the domes.
This food can still save people’s lives.
Nola looked out over the city. Only one building stood taller than the garden, blocking the light of the domes from view as though her home didn’t exist at all.
The buzz of a rope being pulled quickly came from the direction where Kieran had disappeared. An odd flapping sound pounded all around the roof as long sheets of fabric unfurled from the sides of the plant beds. Hung from wires so dark Nola hadn’t noticed them before, the cloth rose up high, floating into the sky like sails before, with a shuddering whine, they all turned at once, making a patchwork of fabric that covered the whole roof.
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