by M. Lorrox
Skip bites his lip. “What can I do to help?”
A tear drops from her eye. “Let Lance put me back downstairs. No zombie will cross while I breathe.”
Jambavan shakes his head. “No, you’re being dramatic. You’ll be fine.”
She shakes her head. “No, I won’t. I’m dying. I know that I won’t be walking out of this one.”
Skip puts his hand on her other shoulder. My god, how can we leave you? “I don’t want you to go back downstairs.”
“Get Lance to bring me down, or I’ll crawl down.” Her lip quivers.
Skip sniffs and blinks his eyes clear. He takes a breath. “Thank you for coming for us. You saved all of our lives.”
“You’re welcome... Don’t you dare give up. Get everyone to safety, no matter what it takes.”
Skip nods, then he stands.
Jambavan is still shaking his head. “I’m going with you.”
“You are, so I can make you a knight. Lance, let’s go.”
Skip turns and walks away, into the room. He steps past others that are holding their mouths and crying. Some of the children cry too because they see the adults, even though they don’t know why people are upset. Jennifer hugs Tommy; beside her is Minnie and Katlyn.
Katlyn welcomes Skip into her arms, but first, he picks up Minnie.
Downstairs, Korina sends Lance back and instructs Jambavan to stay. “I’ve trained you as best as I could, and I’ve never been so proud of a squire.” She smiles for the first time in hours as more tears flow down her face, mirroring Jambavan’s.
“I can’t leave you.”
“Listen Jambavan: do you remember the vow you made to me when you left your family?”
He nods.
“You will trust me this last time… Although I didn’t give you the traditional test, I know you would have passed. Embrace me now, Jambavan, as a Knight of the Order.”
He hugs her and breathes hard alongside her face.
She presses her head against his, still keeping her hands tight against her chest. She sniffs mucus back into her nose. “Life in the blood—”
“Death in the blood.” He hugs her for another few seconds, then he takes a breath to calm himself. Then, he lets go, and he stands.
“Go now, Jambavan, Knight of the Order. Give your life in service.”
He nods and tears that clung to his chin break free. He spins and bolts up the stairs, past the fifth-floor office, and straight up to the attic. There, he turns off the light and sits in the darkness, quietly pouring more tears from his eyes.
Two stories down, Korina drops her hands away from her chest. She looks down at the burnt black bone of her fingertips and the peeled and blistered, charred skin of her hands.
-WHRRM- The barricade shakes a little.
Korina makes a fist, and the blackened, cooked skin along the back of her hand cracks open. She grits her teeth and waits.
After the excruciating and thorough interrogation of Robert, Hamid taps Sadie. She’s still hiding under the hospital bed.
Thank the gods. She crawls out and watches Hamid’s face. He’s tired. Looks broken. Perhaps not a complete psycho… She looks at Robert’s face. FUUUUUCCCK. “Is he dead?”
Hamid shakes his head. “Of course not. I’m not a monster, like he is.”
Robert has only the base of his nose remaining, revealing gaping and blood-soaked nostrils. The flesh is torn from cheek to cheek, and he no longer has lips. His front teeth are broken, and the skin under his eyes has been pinched and torn off. “Hamid, he’s going to need a lot of surgery.”
“Good thing he’s in a hospital. Did you understand what he said about Væir?”
She shakes her head. “I’ve never heard of them…or it, whatever that is.”
“Neither have I, and that concerns me.” He sighs. “Come here. Leave him for now.” He motions for her to walk with him toward the door. “Do you know why I insisted that you stay?”
“I have a couple ideas about that.”
“This plan must be stopped, and now you can corroborate what he told me.”
She stops walking. “Hamid? If all he said was true, then part of me wishes you did kill him. But…what if he wasn’t involved? Would you have tortured him just the same?”
He stops a step past her, and he sighs. “My dear, I’m sorry that you had to witness that. I’m sorry that I had to go to those extremes. But to answer your question, no, I would not have tortured him if he wasn’t involved. But he was. You heard him.”
“Yes…but how did you know? People will say anything when they’re being tortured.”
He turns to face her. “There have been so few vampires to ever reach an age as old as I have. Perhaps I’ve lived longer than any other vampire has, ever. That is uncertain, but what is certain is that I am not the same as I was a thousand years ago.”
“I’m not the same person I was a week ago. Hell, exactly one week ago, the call to the House of Elders was placed, and the DC meeting was announced.”
“I know, I know, but that’s not what I mean. Do you mind if I sit? I’m exhausted.”
“In here?” She looks over her shoulder at the bloody mess that was—and apparently still is—Robert.
Hamid sits on the floor and leans his back against the wall. “In the sun, our DNA is constantly being broken by the energy of the photons, and when it recombines it usually does so in a malformed way. But, sometimes the DNA improves, and if that happens, that DNA sticks around.”
Sadie sits beside him. “Are you saying you evolved?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. But over time I’ve gained additional…benefits, or abilities. Some have been very minor, like better control over hunger. Others have been more interesting. One is that I can sense the changes that happen in a person’s thought patterns. I don’t know the science, but I can tell if there’s a sudden change, and I have been able to use it to my advantage.”
Sadie tilts her head. “You’re a walking electroencephalograph?”
He shakes his head. “Your words. I don’t know what that is, but I’ve known Robert for decades, and this ability allowed me to tell when he was lying. I didn’t really hurt him until I was sure, and I so wished I never had to.” He drops his head and closes his eyes. “My actions were not just, but were necessary.”
“I know you’re a religious man.”
He nearly growls his words, “I am a terrifying man.”
Sadie frowns and decides it’s best not to argue.
“When I first truly found my faith, it took me a hundred years to gain control over my impulses and my strength… I fear I have crossed a line, one I cannot remedy.”
“With Robert?”
“And with those that abducted me. Looking back, part of me is glad I did what I had, so that maybe I can stop this…this evil. But I also wonder what the cost was. I wonder if now I have sinned so great as to never recover.”
Sadie leans her head on his shoulder. “You have been a true friend to my family from the beginning. I am sure that you will find peace.”
He lifts his head and looks down at her. “Thank you. And this reminds me of the other reason I needed you here.”
Sadie lifts her head. “And what is that?”
“To say it now would not be wise. Now we must act.” He stands with confidence, and then he steadies himself with a hand against the wall.
Sadie steps under his arm. “Let me help you. What now?”
He walks with her to the doorway, then knocks against the door.
Tatsu opens it, and without a word he slinks under Hamid’s other arm and lifts.
“Thank you. Sadie, you go on ahead.”
She steps out and faces him. “What do you wish me to do?”
“Gather everyone. Councilors, elders, knights…any—” His eyes track a doctor running past. “—any of our group that are present. Bring everyone together for a meeting. Tell them I have returned.”
She nods and rushes down the hall.
“Alright, Tatsu, let us return to the guard station.”
“Sir? What about High Councilor Flaxman? Should I get him a doctor?”
Hamid swallows and waits a moment before responding. “No. No one can delay him now. He is on his way to hell. I felt him leave us a moment ago.”
Wren Riggs wants a story. Helicopters come and go from the Pentagon Field Command Center, but she has been barred from getting close to them. She overhears yet another group of soldiers mention “The Mall,” while running between tents, and she gets an idea on how to get her story. She slips around the back of some squad cars and military trucks, then double-times it over to the Arlington Independent news truck. “Jackson? We all set?”
He nods, and his beard bounces against his chest. “Hop in.”
She does, and he starts driving away from the Pentagon through its large parking lot. Jackson cranks the handle on his window to raise it a few inches. “So, where’s this adventure at?”
“Downtown.”
“Yeah, right. We can’t get downtown. But seriously, where am I going?” He drives with one hand on top of the steering wheel, and he points out the windshield with his first two fingers.
She points out the windshield. “There, take that toward 395 North.”
He doesn’t merge into the lane. “Dude! I am NOT going downtown!”
“Do it! I know what I’m doing.”
Pro news anchors are all alike. I for one refuse to get zombified for an exposé—no sirree. He merges onto the onramp for 395 North, which leads straight across the Potomac River and into the quarantined area of DC.
As they approach the river, she points again. “There, take 10C onto George Washington Memorial Parkway.”
Oh. He takes the exit, and they hug the river on the Virginia side, headed north.
“Take the exit for Washington Boulevard.”
He does, and they soon approach a large traffic circle. “Okay, you see the pillar at the entrance to the bridge? Park as close as you can to it; I want to get up there.”
Get up on the pillar? Wow. He blinks and shakes his head. “Uh, which side? Have a preference?”
She looks out the window at the Arlington Memorial Bridge, then across the river to DC and the Lincoln Memorial, and then to the tall Washington Monument. Wait, the bridge is empty... It must be blocked at the other side! “Change of plans, cross the bridge, the pillars on the other side are even better.”
He merges into the circle, then exits onto the bridge. “It’s so weird when there’s no traffic. It’s kind of eerie.” As he approaches DC, he notices something large and dark sitting directly ahead of them, past the end of the bridge. He points and slows. “See that?”
She nods. “Yeah... Oh shit, I think it’s firing! Did you see that flash?”
He slows more. “It’s shining red lights on the ground… I think we should turn around.”
“It looks like it’s firing away from us, which would make sense… Come on, let’s check it out.”
He shakes his head. “Shot by a robot or eaten by a zombie? Either would be quite the epitaph… You pro news anchors are all the same.” His heart races as he slows down to a crawl, still driving closer to the automated turret.
It continues to fire in the opposite direction.
“Wren, I’m freakin’ out here.”
“Me too, but I think we can do this. Look, the thing is huge; it’s still like two hundred feet away. Pull up as close as you can to the pillar over there, the north side.”
As he approaches, Wren watches the machine, and then her eyes are drawn to the huge sculptures that reside on top of the pillars on both sides of this end of the bridge. “The Arts of War sculptures... Fitting to report from those, I suppose.”
The two grand sculptures are bronze and fire-gilded. In the sun’s evening rays, they blaze gold against the deepening blue sky. Each depicts a nude man on horseback, while a semi-nude woman stands alongside. In the more southern statue, the woman holds a shield, while in the other statue, the man holds a child.
Jackson inches the truck over to the pillar supporting the sculpture on the north side of the road, and he parks so close to it that he can’t open his door. “Good enough? Wait, what’s that thing saying?”
The LAZoR unit repeats its warning while its spinning, defocused laser diodes paint a swath of red through the news truck’s windshield—across both reporters’ faces. Wren grimaces and turns away. “Yeah, I think we’re good here. Better bring a shotgun mic to isolate my sound from that warning message though. I want to set up on top of the pillar with the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument on one side and me on the other. We should be able to see the Capitol Building too.”
Jackson slowly shakes his head and sighs. “You seriously want to go out there?”
She squints at him. “Of course. Now, how big a zoom do you have?”
“Big enough... Seriously, lenses aren’t a problem. Crazy news-ladies that want to scale pillars near a robot death machine thing, that’s a problem.”
Wren sighs. “Put up your relay antenna, and grab your lenses—better grab a wide too, there’s not a ton of standing room up there. Do you have a monopod? Better—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Have you been up there before?”
A deviant grin crosses her face. “A couple times, but not always with clothes.”
His beard falls toward his chest as his jaw hangs open for a moment, then his lips curl into a smile. “You’ll tell me about it later, right?”
“Depends...” She opens the passenger’s door and steps out. The LAZoR unit at the end of the bridge is just over one hundred feet away. It identifies her as a target, and its gun turns toward her.
Wren smiles at Jackson. “If my hunch is right, we’re getting beers after this because we’ll need to discuss our entry to the Pulitzers.”
The LAZoR unit hits its maximum and can’t turn any more. It stops while aiming down the middle of the bridge. It begins spinning its gun toward its opposite maximum, 350 degrees away.
Jackson stares for a moment while considering the possibility of winning a Pulitzer for news photography, and Wren closes the passenger door. He frowns. “Wait. What does you telling me the story depend on?”
She’s already walking to the back of the truck. He sighs and opens his door without looking. It grinds into the stone pillar. Crap. He crawls over the center console and into the back where the controls are.
The LAZoR unit’s gun hits its other maximum, just to the north side of the north pillar. It can’t fire on them.
Jackson is sending the microwave transmitter up as Wren climbs onto the roof of the truck.
Both the LAZoR units immediately to the sides of the one at the end of the bridge—both of which are along the curved road, Ohio Drive SW—rotate their guns and LIDAR targeting systems toward the perceived threat. The unit in the middle, closest to the reporters and unable to aim at them, picks up the other LAZoR units’ slack. It begins firing without pause at zombies that enter the kill zone.
The LAZoR unit to the north is at the intersection of Ohio Drive SW and Rock Creek and Potomac Parkway NW, and directly in its line of sight to the reporters is another pair of pillars with large sculptures on top, the Arts of Peace sculptures. These sculptures each depict Pegasus with wings lifted high, and under each wing, a figure holds a symbolic item. The southmost of these sculptures is Aspiration and Literature, and it completely blocks the LAZoR unit’s view.
Due southeast from the end of the Arlington Memorial Bridge is the John Ericsson Memorial, a tribute to a man who is regarded as one of the most influential engineers in history. His figure is seated below a personification of wisdom, and as he sits, his head is dipped and is turned slightly away.
Behind him and the personification of wisdom is the other LAZoR unit that is spinning its gun toward the perceived threat. The Arts of War sculpture on the south side of the Arlington Memorial Bridge, Valor—the sculpture with the woman holding the shield—al
most entirely blocks the LAZoR unit’s view of the north side’s statue and the reporters.
Almost.
The unit receives a firing command from the optically networked LAZoR System, and it spins its gun to engage that new threat.
After five minutes, the news truck’s antenna is up, Wren is on top of the pillar standing alongside the massive sculpture, and Jackson is standing on top of the truck. He hands the last of the gear they’ll need up to her. “Alright smart lady, where exactly am I supposed to set up my shot from?”
She pats the rump of the gigantic bronze horse. “From under the tail.” She smiles and extends the monopod out to him with one hand, and she grabs onto the horse’s back knee with her arm. “Climb on up!”
Sadie opens every vampire’s door on the quarantine wing and asks everyone to immediately come join her in the hall. Nurse Jacqueline is in Eliza’s and Katherine’s room, and she is at first annoyed to hear Sadie’s notice… She is trying to provide care for the vampires; they were admitted to her hospital, and for good reason. But she knows better than to argue with an elder, so she suggests that Sadie collects everyone into a small lounge at the very end of the hall instead.
“Thank you. See you there.” Sadie leaves, then enters Eddy’s and Enrique’s room. When she tells them that she’s calling a meeting of all the vampires in the hospital, Eddy glances at the table he and Enrique set up with the ring and fake transcription papers.
He nods and smiles. “Perfect.”
Madeline grabs the clipboard from the front of her room and cruises the hall in scrubs. Whenever someone passes, she makes sure to bury her face in her own paperwork. Ahead, she sees the Elder Costanza knocking on doors, and while hiding behind the clipboard, she eavesdrops. ALL vampires are headed to the lounge at the end of the hall? Perfect! …I don’t weigh that much; I had my phone and keys and shit in my pockets! Ugh.
After a few minutes, the hallway is quiet, and she makes her way to the Costanzas’ room. She pauses outside the door, pretending to check something on her phone while she listens. She hears the TV inside the room, but nothing else. She takes a deep breath, holds her clipboard up, and barges into the room.