Dawn of Dae

by R. J. Blain

  I searched the brick for solid places to rest my weight, trembling as I tested for the best spots. When I was as secure as I could make myself, I reached up and eased the window closed. It latched with a faint click.

  While I couldn’t use my left hand too much, I was able to grip the bricks enough to help balance. During a normal climb, I relied on my arms and upper body strength as much as I did my feet. To make it down, I’d have to compensate for my injured left wrist.

  That frightened me almost as much as what would happen if I fell. I closed my eyes. Staring at the ground wouldn’t help me. Neither would imagining the moment of impact, but I ran through each and every nightmarish way I could splatter myself on the ground as I eased my way down.

  While the inside of the house was a mess, the outside had been maintained, likely to keep the entire thing from collapsing. I had no idea how far down I was when one of the bricks shifted under my weight, and for a stomach-churning moment, I dangled from my right hand. I scrambled for a new foothold, and once I found it, I clung to the building and shook.

  Tears burned in my eyes, and I fought to control my breathing.

  I was so sick and tired of being afraid. For a long time, I couldn’t force myself to move. My legs and arms burned from exertion. I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced myself to lower my foot to take the next step.

  My foot touched the ground, and with a strangled cry, I slumped down, my hands sliding over the rough brick. I leaned against the townhouse, unable to stop my shaking.

  I had to keep moving, but my body didn’t want to cooperate. With the help of the building, I lurched to my feet. The alley was too small for cars, and like so much of the fringe, it had been relegated for use as a dumping ground. Trash scattered the street, and the smell was worse than the water.

  There were probably bodies hidden in the larger piles. Where I stood was clear enough of filth, though I had no idea how I was going to get anywhere without having to step in something.

  I was going to catch my death just from walking down the alley. I lifted a foot and stared at my abused soles. Years of running around without shoes had done a lot to make my feet tough, but Arthur had managed to leave me with blisters. While the ground near his townhouse wasn’t as bad as the rest of the alley, I was begging to get an infection if I tried to walk anywhere.

  I hesitated long enough to glare up at the third-story window. One day, I’d pay Arthur back for every last stroke of his hand and every scar he left behind. I would find a way to ruin him.

  I’d find a way to extinguish his flames. When I finished with him, he’d endure the same fear I did, which tightened my chest and threatened to choke off my breath. I’d make sure all of my shame and pain died with him.

  Clenching my hands into fists, I limped into the night, not caring which direction I went, so long as it took me far from Arthur’s reach.

  I had no idea how long I had been with Arthur, but the quiet night unnerved me. While werewolves howled, their cries came few and far between. Lights glittered in the distance, and the tallest of the downtown skyscrapers glowed as a beacon to guide me away from the fringe.

  When I had broken out of the warehouse, Baltimore had been a far darker place. Had some semblance of normality been restored in the time I was held captive? I crept my way through the alleys, avoiding the larger streets when I could. When I couldn’t, I darted across as fast as my throbbing feet allowed.

  I needed to find a place to hide and hole up, but I wasn’t familiar with the section of the fringe I traversed. All I could tell was that I was far from the Inner Harbor. My normal roost wasn’t far from the ruins of Dundalk, which had been absorbed by Baltimore.

  Judging from the direction of the skyscrapers, I was likely somewhere on the south shores of the city.

  If so, Arthur was either a lot braver or dumber than I thought. I avoided the south shores; the last thing I wanted was to be caught while sniffing around by the military, and Gibson Island wasn’t too far away.

  The elite living there didn’t like dock rats near their mansions. I sucked in a breath, my eyes widening.

  Gibson Island was perfect. So close to winter, the elite left the place to take up residence in the city proper to avoid being snowed in. Its close proximity to a military base ensured sane dock rats avoided the place.

  If I got caught by the elite or the police, I’d tell them the truth and swallow my shame. I wouldn’t tell them how I had escaped from Arthur—twice—but if what I had overheard was true, at least they wouldn’t kill me right away.

  With the Dawn of Dae causing mass chaos, it was entirely possible the elite had left the mansions unattended. A few weeks without anyone watching the estates wouldn’t hurt them much, and if Arthur and his cohorts were any indication, the elite were too busy dealing with a potential uprising to worry about their summer homes.

  If the police and military were busy controlling the populace, it was entirely possible I could slip by the installations on the route to Gibson Island. The real problem would be making it that far without collapsing.

  Gibson Island was over twenty miles away from the Inner Harbor. I pressed my back to the bricks of the alley, glancing both directions—and up—in search of anyone lingering nearby.

  All remained quiet.

  While there were entries to Kenneth’s tunnels in the south part of the fringe, I didn’t know them very well. Most I’d only seen once during the daylight. I had no chance of finding them at night without solid landmarks to rely on.

  It’d be easier to find Gibson Island. All I had to do was head south and east along the shore until the fringe made way for the countryside. I’d have to dodge the military base, but if I could deal with walking through the alleys of Baltimore barefoot, I could handle a walk through a park.

  Twigs and stones beat refuse. Dirt I could deal with. I tried not to think about what I was stepping in as I resumed my slow limp across the city. Instead of aiming for the skyscrapers, I checked over my shoulder to make sure they remained behind me whenever I emerged from the alleys.

  I would either make Gibson Island or find somewhere to hole up. All I had to do was keep out of sight and avoid where the dae were.

  How hard could it be?

  I giggled, and unable to stop myself, I clapped my hands over my mouth to muffle the sound. For a long time, I huddled in the alley, struggling to control my mirth. I was a human in a world turned insane, full of monsters, nightmares, dragons, and unicorns.

  How hard could it be, indeed.

  I laughed until I cried, and when I finally managed to control myself, I staggered south and east in search of a safe haven.

  Time lacked meaning, and I lost track of the number of alleys I traversed on my way towards Gibson Island. My world narrowed to the pain in my feet, which stabbed up my legs with each and every step. It took every bit of my willpower to remember to check for dae.

  The streets remained quiet, and as I crossed the fringe, my worries grew.

  Had the curfew become so enforced no one dared to defy it? The infrequent howls of werewolves and the deeper roars of dragons reassured me there was still life in the city, but despite the distance I had travelled, I hadn’t run into anyone, living or dead.

  If there were bodies in the alleys, they were buried deep enough I couldn’t spot them.

  I needed rest, but until I found somewhere safe, I didn’t dare stop. I didn’t dare break into any of the buildings on the fringe; without knowing who or what was within, I’d be asking for trouble. I already had one dae who wanted me to fuel his powers.

  I was in no condition to fight off anyone. I wouldn’t even count as sport. A child with a stick could beat me into submission without working at it.

  It amazed me I was still on my feet and moving.

  The fringe made way for a nicer neighborhood; the presence of working street lamps clued me into the change. The alleys remained a mess, but the main streets were clear of debris. While the roads were still paved with
asphalt, the sidewalks were of cobbled stone, a nod from the elite to the residents of the district.

  I leaned against the wall, peeking out of my alley. Unlike the fringe, the flower boxes hanging from windows were filled with plants still clinging to life. With so many lights, I wouldn’t be able to cross the street without running the risk of someone seeing me.

  Then again, the dae could probably see in the dark, especially the werewolves. Did they even need the lights to get by? I scowled.

  Any other evening, I would have found comfort in the flickering glow. When everyone had been human, the risk of being caught breaking the law was enough to deter most people. I had a feeling the dae didn’t care very much if they were caught, as long as they were bigger and badder than their opponent.

  I couldn’t fault Arthur for his reasons, but his methods left me sick to my stomach—and likely scarred for life. I ducked back into an alley, leaned my shoulder against the wall, and closed my eyes.

  Unless he had been following me from the start, I was likely far out of his reach. Once I reached Gibson Island, I could disappear until I no longer felt—and looked—like tenderized meat.

  I drew deep breaths until my heart rate slowed and I ceased panting from exertion. When the dae had been fighting in the streets after dark, hiding was a lot easier. All I had to do was let the brawls draw attention from me.

  How was I going to cross a middle-caste district without being seen? I pinched the bridge of my nose to ward away my growing headache. My stomach growled in demand, and I sighed.

  Unless I lowered myself to breaking and entering, food wasn’t an option. Even if I had cash, which I didn’t, I didn’t have a credit chip embedded in my hand like those of the upper castes, granting me access to the stores outside of the fringe. If I could find an outlet belonging to Kenneth, I could swing something, but the south shores weren’t my turf.

  Even if I was willing to risk tipping off my boss about my location, I didn’t know where to find his dealers. It was a mistake I’d have to rectify and soon. It hadn’t mattered so much before.

  The few times I had visited the south shores, I had left without needing to use any of Kenneth’s contacts or tunnels.

  Things had been a lot simpler before the Dawn of Dae.

  I sighed, cracked open my eyes, and peeked around the corner. The street remained deserted, illuminated by the lamps. While the alley I was in was strewn with garbage, the main street was clear of debris.

  If I could dodge the glow of the lamps flanking the alley, I could hide in the shadows where the lights didn’t quite reach the storefronts and homes. I’d have to be careful, watch for people looking out the windows, and dart across where I couldn’t avoid the illumination.

  I had my doubts I’d be able to go any faster than a pained limp. Walking was bad enough; I didn’t want to imagine trying to sprint.

  I wasn’t brave enough to check my feet to see how much damage I had done to myself walking across the city. That I had made it so far without collapsing astonished me. Until I found a safe haven, I didn’t dare stop.

  I once again glared at the well-lit street. Retreating and trying to find an alleyway through the district would only take me so far; after a couple of blocks, there wouldn’t be any alleys at all. Instead, there would be groomed lawns, driveways, and suburban streets.

  The change in the streets offered hope, though. Like Dundalk, Glen Bernie had been absorbed by Baltimore, but instead of decaying into the fringe, it had thrived, serving to house those who had dodged the poverty-ridden lower castes.

  They weren’t elite, but they were the closest most Americans would ever come to it. They were the businessmen and women who had done well enough for themselves and earned the right to vote with their success. Their families were guaranteed primary school, and many went to secondary school as well.

  They were also the ones most likely to call the police if they caught me on the streets. I sighed. It was too easy to get caught and a lot harder to escape once under the scrutiny of the police, who were far more enthusiastic about protecting their middle-caste wards.

  Maybe it was late enough at night every sensible person was asleep—and if someone did spot me, I would be long gone before the police arrived. Standing around in an alley wouldn’t do me any good.

  I needed to keep moving. I drew a deep breath to steady my nerves, picked the path most likely to hide me from watchful eyes, and took the first step out onto the main street.

  A hand clapped over my mouth and pinched my nose closed, preventing me from screaming. An arm wrapped around my stomach, pinning my arms to my side and dragged me back into the alley’s dark shadows.

  Sixteen

  Let’s not attract their attention.

  Unable to breathe around the hand clamped over my mouth and pinching my nose, I panicked. The way my captor held me kept my arms pinned and lifted me so I was forced to stand on my toes, which limited my struggles to ineffective kicking. When I scraped my feet against the rough asphalt, tears of pain blurred my eyes.

  The hand across my mouth forced my head back, preventing me from repeating my mistake with Arthur. In a way, it was as much of a blessing as a curse. While I wouldn’t knock myself out again, I realized I had no hope of pulling free.

  My lungs and chest burned with the need for air, and it didn’t take long for my abused body to go limp in spite of my frantic desire to lash out and fight back.

  My pained tears made way for humiliation as the realization I was falling prey to someone yet again sank in. My traitorous body gave up, and when my legs could no longer support my weight, the hand eased away from my mouth and nose, allowing me to breathe. The autumn chill flooded my lungs, but I couldn’t find the strength to resist.

  I had reached the end of my rope, and I knew it.

  Something a little wet, a little squishy, and disgustingly cold slithered up my bare leg. I drew in a sharp breath to shriek, and my captor’s hand clapped over my mouth to keep me quiet.

  “Shh,” someone I recognized but couldn’t place hissed in my ear. He wasn’t Arthur. The man’s tones was too deep. “Not right now.”

  “Mommy?” Colby whined from somewhere near my feet, my leg, to be specific. Colby had survived, and it had somehow found me. Shock kept me silent, and as it wore off, the violence of my shaking rattled my teeth together.

  “Both of you, be quiet!”

  Rob. Rob had grabbed me, and he was hissing orders in my ears. I was torn between relief and fury that of all of the dae to find me, it had to be him.

  “Mommy,” snapped Colby, and my roommate squished over my foot, clinging to my ankle.

  How had they found me? Why had they found me? Colby I could understand. My roommate had witnessed everything that had happened. But what was Rob doing with Colby?

  Rob eased his grip over my mouth, and I sucked in air. My heart beat too fast in my throat and drummed in my ears. Without his arm around my waist, still pinning my arms to my sides, I would have collapsed in a heap. He pulled me deeper into the alley, and Colby clung to my leg in its determination to stay with me.

  I hurt from head to toe, and I couldn’t tell if either one of them was adding to my collection of rashes, blisters, cuts, and scrapes. I panted, struggling to get my feet beneath me so I could stand on my own.

  “Some of the winged dae have taken to hiding on rooftops in ambush,” Rob informed me in a whisper. “Let’s not attract their attention, Miss Daegberht. I’ve already dealt with a few who were a little too interested in tailing my woman. I’d rather not have to deal with any other dae tonight.”

  “Mommy,” Colby agreed.

  In my exhaustion, it took me longer than I liked to realize Rob had, as usual, vocalized a claim on me. It pissed me off enough I managed to stomp on his foot.

  He was wearing shoes, and the only thing that kept me from yowling in pain was him clamping his hand over my mouth again. “Will you stop that?”

  I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to be
property, not Arthur’s, not Rob’s, not anyone’s. My anger and frustration kept the tears at bay, and I jerked my head in an effort to pull free of his grasp.

  Rob loosened his hold on me. “I have a lot to say to you, Miss Daegberht, but it can wait for the moment.”

  I wasn’t expecting him to release me, and I staggered several steps before colliding with the wall. I clutched the bricks to stay on my feet. The anger in his voice frightened me.

  I knew firsthand what angry dae did, and my body still ached from Arthur slamming me into the street when I had fought against him. Turning to face Rob, I drew a breath to snarl at him, determined to establish I wasn’t anyone’s, let alone his.

  Rob had his suit jacket off, and with a flick of his wrist, he settled it over my shoulders. What I meant to say died in my throat, and while my mouth opened, no sound emerged. I froze, and when I kept still and quiet, the dae pulled the heavy-weight material around me, buttoning it closed.

  He wore it a lot better than I did, but it was so warm it almost burned my raw skin. It wasn’t until my arms and chest were covered I realized just how cold I was. I shivered, but I kept my teeth from chattering by clenching them together.

  “It’s a little too chilly to be wandering around like that,” he informed me, shaking his head. “Really, Miss Daegberht. Couldn’t you have at least stolen a coat? Shoes, perhaps?”

  “Fuck you,” I hissed.

  The dae’s scowl relaxed into a faint smile. “Did I interrupt you a little too soon in your schemings? I can’t say I blame you for waiting. I wouldn’t want to steal anything from the fringe, either. That said, you have a lot of explaining to do, Miss Daegberht. You can begin with what happened to your clothes and why you’re wearing another man’s underwear.”

  The arrogant scorn in Rob’s voice was too much. I stared at him, swallowing compulsively in my effort to keep from bursting into angry tears, but it only delayed the inevitable. I lifted my hand to smack him, and he caught my wrist in a firm but gentle grip. He pulled me to him, letting go of my wrist to stroke his hand down the length of my arm. I stiffened, uncertain of what he was doing until he worked his fingers into my hair and held me close, resting my forehead against his chest.