by S T Branton
“Take the truck.” Veronica emerged from the tent, corralling her hair back into a thick ponytail. “There’s still some gas in it. If you can find more while you’re at it, all the better.”
I’d almost forgotten about the black SUV we had managed to bring with us after the showdown in Lincoln Tunnel. In the past few days, it had felt like more of a hindrance than a help as we navigated the thing through the woods, but that pain in the ass would finally pay off.
“You have to be careful,” a voice said over my shoulder. Brax stepped up behind me. “Car’s gonna be a moving target on an empty road.”
“It can’t be helped,” Veronica replied. “We need to replenish our provisions. Maya said she’s already starting to see some early signs of malnutrition in the kids.” Veronica caught Dan’s attention and waved him over.
The Were woman finished bandaging the baby’s mom, and Steph handed the child over. They rejoined us too, completing our seven-person council.
“Are we ready to rock and roll?” Dan asked. “Whatever you’ve got, lay it on me. I guarantee it’s better than nothing.” His aura of general conviviality provided a surprisingly strong support against the pressure rapidly closing in on me again.
“All right.” I glanced around at my motley crew. “Listen up.”
Chapter Four
“It’s pretty clear we can’t keep doing what we’re doing. The group isn’t in the greatest shape, and that won’t improve over time. Our best bet is to find a place to fortify as a stronghold. That way, we’ll be able to withstand these random attacks without endangering anyone unnecessarily. Plus, it will provide space to care for whoever needs it, maybe set up an infirmary. The sooner we can heal people, the better.”
“Want me to send some men out?” Dan was already reaching for his radio. “I have a few I can spare. I got a report that all fronts are quiet for the time being.”
I shook my head. “Maya, this one’s yours. I’d rather have troops securing our current perimeter at all times, just in case, and I know you can take care of business if need be.”
“Okay.” She rolled her sleeves up. “Where should I start? Keep going west until I find something?”
I thought about it briefly. “Don’t go too far. We don’t want to haul everyone on an expedition, and I’m a little concerned about getting too close to civilization again, such as it is. The last thing we need is to get caught in the crossfire of some messed-up turf war.”
“A ghost town could be useful, though,” Deacon interjected. “We’ve got too many people to assume they’ll all fit in one building. If we found a place with multiple shelters, I think we’d do a lot better.”
“That complicates defense a bit,” said Dan, “but you’re not wrong.” He rubbed his stubble. “It probably wouldn’t be too hard to work something out. Maybe we’d need a constant moving patrol.”
“It would be a total disaster if there wasn’t enough room for everyone.” Veronica frowned. “Nerves are frayed down to nothing already. I’m afraid riots would break out, or people will take off on their own.”
“Do we have a head count?” Maya asked.
“At least a hundred,” Veronica said. “I’ve slowly compiled a list of names, but it’s nowhere near complete. And this is after we lost so many in the tunnel.”
“A hundred’s a lot of bodies,” Dan commented. “We ought to be looking for a hotel or something like that. Could use some of the upper-floor windows as sniper nests in a pinch.”
“Hm. Not bad. I like that.” Steph nodded her approval thoughtfully. “It would also allow us to compartmentalize potential damage or casualties if there were a breach. Station someone in every wing, and we’d at least have eyes on the whole place.”
“And we wouldn’t have to drive the truck off-road and hide it under a tarp,” Jules added. “There are a lot of little townships scattered around here. I bet one of them is abandoned.”
“I’ll go in a big circle,” Maya decided. “The radius will have to be pretty large. It might take me a day or two to get back here.”
“That’s fine,” I told her. “We’re not doctors, but we can hold down the fort. I’d rather wait a little longer if it means we know where we’re going. Good luck.”
She gave me an encouraging smile and went off into the trees. I noticed Steph watching her go until she was completely out of sight. She looked like she wanted to say something but thought better of it at the last minute.
“Big Red—Veronica, I mean.” I chewed my lip. “Sorry. Can you figure out a system for rations? I don’t want to do this, but I don’t think there’s any other option until we find more food. I think people will respond best if you handle it. They really seem to respect you.”
Veronica laughed. “I told you, call me whatever you want. I’m happy to be in charge of managing supplies. I’ll even take stock of our med stuff, free of charge.”
I nodded. “You’re the best. Keep your finger on the pulse of the herd, would you? It’ll be useful to know what kind of headspace people are in. If you feel like there’s trouble brewing, give me a heads-up. We’ll do our best to nip possible conflicts in the bud.”
“Will do, Chief.” Thus assigned, she disappeared into the teepee to start her work. Boxes and bags shuffled around, out of sight.
I turned my attention to Dan and Brax. “Now that’s taken care of, I want to address a slightly more complicated problem.”
“Shoot,” the soldier said, leaning forward. “I’m all ears.”
“The issue is this… We can clothe all these refugees, we can feed them, we can shelter them, but it won’t mean much if they’re completely helpless to defend themselves. Our front line could always break or be neutralized. I’d like to make sure there’s a second line of defense in place. How hard do you think it would be to drum up a citizen’s militia?”
The two looked at me, at each other, and back at me. “Like, working together? I don’t know…” Dan cleared his throat.
Brax said nothing
“What?” I glanced from one to the other. “You’re a military man, Dan. This is easy, right? People will want to defend what’s theirs.”
“I think…” He chanced a look at the demon, who stared impassively through his dark lenses. “No, you’re right. We should be able to do this.”
Brax still said nothing, his arms folded across his chest. He stood square and tall, unmoving. The charcoal-colored brands peeked out from beneath the edges of his clothes.
”Good,” I said. “We need this to happen, and we need it now. I can’t have a bunch of untrained civilians simply sitting wherever we put them. We might as well wrap them up with a bow and hand them over to the Forgotten.”
Dan grunted and stepped back. “All right. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Then he said, “But I won’t sacrifice anyone’s well-being for any reason.”
“There will be no sacrifice,” I decreed. “Make this work. We’re depending on you.”
Solemnly, he agreed. He set his jaw and gestured for Brax to follow him. “Come on. I’ll show you what we’ve got in terms of weapons.”
I waited for the odd pair to walk off together in stony silence, unsure if that particular strategy would be the best idea in the long run. It was at least where I thought Brax would be most useful, and Dan’s expertise in that area couldn’t be denied. I hoped his humanity would counterbalance Brax’s ruthless nature. I trusted them to be professionals about it.
“That’s a powder keg waiting to blow,” Deacon observed helpfully.
I shot him a look. “Can it, Captain Obvious. I’m sending you and Jules on the supply run. Go in and help Veronica put the rations together. That’ll give you a good idea of what we need. Jules, you focus on the medical supplies for now, since Maya’s not here. With any luck, we’ll be moving as soon as she gets back, so only worry about the essentials this time. Once we get settled, we can do another run.”
Deacon gave me a mock salute. “Aye aye, Captain.” He laug
hed a little as I scowled at him.
“Get going, St. Clare,” I said. “It’s a good thing I’ve got Jules to keep an eye on you.”
He had barely turned his back to duck into the tent after Veronica when a bizarre wheezing sound struck my ears. “What the hell is that?” We both glanced over our shoulders, only to be shocked by a rotund vision in a shabby suit and a somewhat mangled hat. “Franki.”
“Hey, kid.” The mobster coughed hard, pounded on his chest, and spat a wad of something disgusting into the leaves near his feet. He bent at the waist, one giant hand on his knee. “Gimme a sec. I’m dyin’ here. Or I would be if I still could.”
“What’s wrong?” I closed the distance between us fast. “And where the fuck have you been? No one’s seen you since you dipped out on Maya back at Madison Square Garden.”
He finished hacking and drew a hand across his lips. “I didn’t ‘dip out’ on her, all right? I got lost in the shuffle. Sue me. I’m here now, ain’t I?” His brow furrowed and rheumy eyes darkened. “Anyway, look. We got a problem.”
“It’s never good news with you, is it?” I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling another headache brewing. “What kind of problem?”
Frank’s expression didn’t change. “A dead one.”
Chapter Five
“What’s going on?” Veronica’s red head popped out of the tent, followed by the rest of her lithe, lanky form. “Who’s doing all that horrible coughing?”
I pointed to Frank, who raised his hand sheepishly.
“Secondhand smoke,” he croaked. “I’m not sick, lady. I swear it. I’m not sure I can get sick anymore.”
I clapped a hand on Frank’s beefy shoulder. “He’s good. He’s with us.”
The doubt still clouded Veronica’s eyes, but she didn’t challenge my assertion.
“Come on,” he told me insistently. “We ain’t got all day. You’re gonna want to see this, kiddo. Trust me.”
“Great,” I mumbled. “I hate it already.” I motioned to Deacon and Steph. They exchanged a look and stepped after us without a word.
A dead problem meant a dead body, which in turn told me that the gods were most likely out and about. Frank wouldn’t have been so jazzed-up otherwise. It bothered me that they’d killed right under my nose. They were getting bolder, and I needed to pay more attention.
The mobster led us to a spot on the outskirts of camp demarcated by a single small tent. We moved into the forest for a few dozen yards, and Frank stopped short. I saw the shoes before I saw anything else—brown loafers ill-suited for the outdoors. The body lay on its back, the arms flung out to the sides. The face was young and male and extremely, inhumanly pale.
“Oh, fuck,” Veronica whispered. “It’s Everett.”
“Do you know him?” I asked. The kid couldn’t have been more than twenty-one, his face sheathed in a combination of patchy stubble and acne scars. His eyes, pale and clouded, were wide open.
“Not well. I got to know him a little over the past…however long we’ve been traveling.” A sorrowful expression spread across her face. “Nice kid. Really nice kid.”
Steph stepped forward, knelt beside the corpse, and examined the upper body carefully. As she turned Everett’s head to the side, I caught a glimpse of deep purple bruising all around his neck and along the opposite side of his face. Someone had evidently beaten the snot out of him before he died.
“Puncture wounds,” she announced. “And not only two. Lots of them.” She pointed to the kid’s neck, throat, shoulders, and arm and studied his paper-white skin. “There’s no blood here. He’s been drained. Whoever did this to him didn’t have to. See this here?” She gestured to a certain distinctive pattern of bruising on either side of the throat. “It looks like he died from manual strangulation. They didn’t have to beat the shit out of him first if they intended to choke him anyway. But they did it because they wanted to. I think they liked it.”
Veronica made a disgusted sound. “This is sick.” Her eyes drifted to Frank, full of undisguised suspicion.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He hunkered down at a safe distance from her. “I may be a freak, but I ain’t a killer.”
“It’s true,” Deacon said. “At least this time. It doesn’t look like a typical vampire kill.”
“Never thought I’d hear the words ‘typical’ and ‘vampire’ in the same sentence,” I muttered. “But what’s with draining the blood? That’s some pretty vampy shit.”
Vampires are not the only Forgotten who drain their prey. Others require blood to sustain life, though I would say few are so gleefully malicious in their unsavory deeds.
Before she stood, Steph closed Everett’s eyes—a touching gesture for someone normally so cold. “Is there a family?” she asked Veronica. “If so, they should be notified right away before the rumor mill starts to churn. No worse way to find out about a death than through the grapevine.”
“I don’t know,” the other woman responded. She was transfixed by the youth’s ghastly white face. “I’ll find out. I can’t believe this happened.”
“Find out as much about him as you can,” Deacon instructed. “We can’t rule out anything yet. Yeah, it looks like something supernatural, but I’d still like to know if he feuded with anyone, if he had enemies, and if someone was pissed off enough to want him dead. It could be some jackass trying to use the current situation to their advantage so they can get away with murder.”
Veronica tugged grimly on her ponytail. “I really hope that’s not the case. I’d like to think all these people are trustworthy.”
“So would I.” Deacon motioned toward the body. “And yet, here we are.”
As Veronica darted back to the teepee in the clearing, I moved beside Deacon, taking my own closer look at the unfortunate young man. If it weren’t for the pallor of his skin, I might not have noticed that he’d been bitten at all. The dark marks on his neck concealing the puncture holes. His shirt and jacket were torn in places, suggesting that the wounds had been inflicted through them.
“What was he doing out here?” I wondered out loud.
“My guess? Taking a leak.” Deacon nodded toward the tent at the edge of the woods. “I’d bet that’s his tent over there, and he was out here to take one last piss before turning in.”
“It’s too bad Maya left,” Steph said. “She might’ve been able to draw some better conclusions. High marks in forensics and crime scene investigation won’t make up for actual medical training.”
“Well, she’s a vet. But you’re right. She’d be leagues ahead of any of us.” I was most disturbed by the distance of the corpse from the rest of the campsite—or rather, the lack thereof. “Why was this thing so close? That’s what I want to know.”
The Forgotten can be excellent at hiding in plain sight. We will need to be extra vigilant until we get to the bottom of this.
The hair stood up on the back of my neck. I didn’t like the sensation of being watched, or the feeling of the rug pulled out from under my feet. It had been a long time since I’d been caught off guard like this. I had gotten used to a certain predictability in the gods’ behavior. They’d show up somewhere, and I’d go there and Gladius Solis them to death. It had worked every time so far.
Suddenly, someone unseen had struck close to home, and apparently without warning. No one even really knew what happened to Everett yet. I didn’t want to imagine what awful damage this news would inflict upon morale.
“We have to keep this on the down-low,” Deacon said, eerily in sync with my thoughts. “It’ll be impossible to keep it from getting out entirely, but if anyone asks, it was an accident, right? No details. People will lose their shit if they think they’re hunted.”
“Jeezum Crow.” Frank mopped his forehead with his sleeve. His eyes almost popped out of his head. I noticed that when he was stressed, a map of veins stood out beneath his clammy skin. It was a little gross.
“Relax,” I said. “We have nothing to do with this, so we
have nothing to hide. Our job is to find this murdering sack of shit and wipe him off the face of the planet. You dig?”
“Yeah.” He swallowed hard, nodding his head so vigorously I thought it’d pop off. “I got it.”
“All right. We’re cool.” I patted his hefty shoulder. “Promise me one thing, Frank. Whatever you do, don’t go vamp. No matter what happens or what anyone says. Don’t go vamp.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
It appears the game has changed, Marcus commented. This is an interesting move by the enemy. Be sure to keep your guard up at all times, Victoria. The Forgotten have eyes in the strangest places. They may be watching.
Another shiver ran up the back of my neck. “Let’s go,” I said. “Frank, keep your head down.” We left Everett’s body where it lay in the woods and walked in silence back to the heart of camp. Veronica flitted among the camp’s residents, prodding as vaguely as she could for information. All anyone knew was that the kid had been missing since the night before, that he had walked out of his tent and not come back.
No one had seen or heard a single thing, yet Everett lay dead just inside the tree line, his body riddled with wounds.
After Veronica had gathered as much intel as she could, Deacon and I headed back to that lonely little tent to retrieve the body. We wrapped him in his sleeping bag, picked him up between us, and carried him deeper into the trees. Then, we took turns. One of us stood watch while the other dug the boy’s grave. Deacon was the one who buried him.
When he was done, he stuck the shovel down into the earth and said, “Damn.”
“It’ll be better from here, right?” Every single one of my senses was on overdrive, listening for any sound and looking for any flash of a shape, a shadow, or a color from the corner of my eye. Nothing could be trusted now that a boy had been plucked from among us. “It has to get better.”
He put an arm around my shoulders. “I hope so, Vic,” he said. “But something tells me we haven’t hit rock bottom yet.”