The Last City Box Set

by Logan Keys

  “No.”

  “Dallas, was it?”

  I nod. I try not to glare at Shade. How else would Bradford know my name?

  “Meet your maker.” Bradford waves a hand at the machine. “Here is our origin. This thing is what pumped out little devils and zombies across our planet. You have it to thank for all of the this.”

  It’s hard not to flinch at that. I mean the whole world would go right back to what it was before without this machine? What a mind-boggling thought.

  “You want to know what I think?” he asks.

  Not really.

  “Sure,” I say.

  “We had a guy here before, who could do the mind control thing. In fact, Simon wouldn’t have kept LA together without him. Anyway, Cory had a theory and thought it’s no coincidence. Shade here is like some modern version of Nyx. Heard of her? Goddess of night described as “a shadowy figure”. Your Adrian: The Medusa. I mean it all came together when I saw this hunk of junk. I’ve got a guy who can make you sleep, just like that! Hypnos, I think, was the name and giants… we all know about the giants in Greek mythology.”

  “Mythology. Sure,” I say humoring him. “But what about us?”

  “You? Vampire. All we need are some werewolves, and we already have zombies. Each age has their ‘stories’ - folklore, fairytales, and so on. Now we know, some of them are true.” He winks at me with a sly smile.

  “Okay.”

  Bradford lifts a finger. “And what do they have in common? There were arguments that the Greek gods were real. Historians that wrote them might have known them. And then the more recent lore: Dracula and the like.”

  “You think this happened before?”

  “Yes. It made legends. Us… legends. They knew it before, but who would believe them?”

  I frown. “So, where are you at in all of this? A legend or a myth?”

  “Me?” He grins. “I don’t get to use my special often but you see that?” Bradford points at the roof where the skylight is high above. “Full moon.”

  He whispers a howl and laughs. My body reacts out of instinct.

  Bradford laughs again. “So, what does your vampire queen command of you?”

  “That we take the machine. That we join together.”

  “Why would I join with you?”

  I cock a brow. “The other option is not as pleasant.”

  Bradford glances at Shade like he can’t believe his ears. “What? The vamps kill us all?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Try.”

  I sigh again.

  He makes no move to attack me but I won’t either until I know his special.

  The moon shows in front of the window. Bradford glances upward and I see why he’s in loose clothing. He hadn’t been joking before. His body is already changing, and he’s grinning at me while his face transforms into a snout. His spine ripples and elongates into an animal’s.

  Skin peals from bone, and it’s not pretty. Bradford melts and regenerates. It’s the ugliest werewolf shift ever, something out of a horror movie.

  And he’s not a pretty fluffy wolf in the end, either. He’s big and terrifying and lanky and full of sinew. His mouth is as long as my torso.

  Shade comes forward, but I give him a look only a woman can. It says way more than words: Stay back. If you get involved, I’ll make you pay.

  “Legends and fables,” I say. “Boy, he wasn’t kidding was he?”

  It kinda makes sense. Perhaps Bradford is right, and this is how the stories went. So many versions are vamp vs werewolf and now we see why.

  Like a demon uninvited he’s twisting into a monster and I feel like maybe there isn’t room in this world for two of us. Our species almost seem exclusive. Who would ride to the top of the food chain? Him or me.

  Zombies are beneath vampire. And wolf? Well, why don’t we find out?

  The monster shivers and shakes his ginormous head yawning its grin at me, and even a laughing wheeze makes it out of the mouth, lips curled back, long teeth dripping saliva.

  Seeing his teeth, my own lengthen again. My skin grows tight.

  Sensing my tension, Bradford rears back onto his hind legs. He’s at least double my height. The wolf howls at the moon. It’s grotesque to see him walk like a human. No wonder he’s not been challenged. One swipe of those giant paws and my head comes off.

  He must notice me staring at them because he takes a practice swing now, and the claws whistle through the air.

  I sense Shade’s fear watching me and the wolf work ourselves toward a fight. He’s worried? For me?

  Shade doesn’t understand yet. I’m in my element. Near death is where I live the most.

  The thing that was Bradford lunges at me with blinding speed. By the barging movement, I get that he doesn’t have much control over his animal. He’s more beast than man. I can use that to my advantage. I am much faster than he is, but his strength is tremendous.

  Every one of the men in the room watch me to see what I’ll do. Will I back down? They have. And they are ready to see their leader pull me apart. I’m sure he’s done so with his challengers thus far.

  I risk getting within grabbing distance to my own regret. He knocks me off my feet. I fly into the wall and further.

  I take out the entire side of the building, catapulting through it, and bounce off my ass into a backwards somersault. I manage to stop my ridiculous rolling by sticking my claws into the wet earth. On all fours, I growl, letting myself get truly and royally pissed off. In an animalistic position, I arch my back up like a cat and hiss.

  He punches through the remaining walls, meeting me outside.

  In the moonlight, Bradford’s monster is horrific. Hands by each side in a bicep curl of power, he howls at the moon, an eerie scruffy sound of impending doom. Thankfully, no one answers. If there were more of him, I think I’d be finished before I began.

  The sound echoes inside of me and I feel a rage I’ve never felt before.

  Shade follows his leader at a distance and he stops and crosses his arms. His eyebrow is up in question.

  I stand and roll my neck, inviting her in. Come on you wanted to take over completely before, well there you go. My soul steps out of the way of the thing that resides in the corners of my mind.

  Once she has firm control, her reflexes are far better than my own, I stroll without caution toward the beast. This time when he swipes at me, I duck and move much more quickly. I’m able to strike him once in the chest. It’s like hitting concrete.

  No heart in hand trick this time, he’s made of steel that looks like skin.

  I bare my teeth at him, and Bradford latches onto me before I can get away. The wolf thing squeezes me in the ugliest bear hug ever. I cry out as my back feels close to breaking. But my feet are free of his embrace and he’s still a man.

  Sorta.

  I kick him between the legs and am satisfied at the yelp as he lets me go. So, it’s not just the heart I need to remove. Interesting.

  We run a strange circle while I try to decide what tactic is best. He’s too fast in the open space, where his brute strength is going to win.

  With the beast firmly in chase, I take off for the city parts. Bradford bays his excitement, dropping onto all fours, where he begins to run so fast that I realize my mistake in underestimating him.

  I keep ahead, but I have to push myself.

  Taking to the shadows, I hide, but the wolf has the scent of me. I don’t hide to get away, I hide to make a trap.

  The wolf is near, but Shade slides into my spot, breathing hard. “You better think of something quick, Dallas.”

  “Shhhh,” I hiss when I see the beast turn down the street.

  “Do you need my help?” Shade asks.

  “Hell no,” I say, but bite my lip. “Ask me again later, okay?”

  Shade pushes me further into the darkness, and he tries to say something, but instead, I silence him with my lips. It’s not a sweet kiss, it’s an angry one. He’d been getting informa
tion from me and giving it to Bradford. I punish him for that.

  But Shade is no beta male. He pushes me back and gives as good as he gets. The second taste of night is as good as the first.

  I’m furious at him being a spy for his side. But I had been doing the same.

  A growl pries me away.

  The wolf closes in and I flee again, searching for a side street, before diving into what I had thought was another way toward the main road, but it’s not. It’s an alleyway and one with solid structures on all sides. The windows are too high to climb into.

  I’m a vampire, not spider man.

  The wolf finds where I turned. He follows me into my trap.

  But I’m the trapped one now.

  “Think, Dallas, think,” I tell myself.

  There are some trashcans on this end chained together. I could lift them and throw them perhaps but it’s not like…

  The wolf rises on his hind legs making a sound that I suppose is victory. Bradford’s got me cornered.

  My pride won’t let me ask Shade for help.

  A noise above me draws my attention. The men. They’re up on the roofs watching us.

  There is a group that is separate from the rest. These seem set apart. They each host enough firepower to take out an entire army. These must be the Raiders Shade had mentioned. Their leader is going to tear this vampire apart, and I’m surprised I don’t see popcorn being passed around.

  “Enjoying the show?” I yell.

  A few say, “Hell yeah!” And I don’t have time to flip them off. I need my hands. He’s close now.

  It’s a stupid idea, but I grab the trash cans, anyway. That only makes the beast laugh.

  When he gets close enough, I throw them at him, and instead of hitting my target, they explode. Brittle and unable to keep together having rotted over time, they shatter into shards of plastic that rains down on our heads like the most disgusting type of confetti.

  While blinded by my own bad idea, Bradford grabs hold of me. He’s wise enough to keep his legs closed this round, so I can’t make sure he never has children.

  With one hand free, I slice a hole in his neck. Not big enough to bleed him dry, but big enough that he’s slower to crush me to compact size.

  All he has to do is get me broken enough to burn me and I know he’s not as dumb as he looks. He has an actual plan. If he knows the legend even vaguely, he knows how to kill me.

  I feel my trapped arm break and I don’t cry out. It doesn’t hurt like it would a normal person, to but it’s a sign that this is getting serious. And now my leg. One has cracked at the thigh.

  He walks with me a step or two still squeezing.

  What is that sound?

  A rattle?

  The chain.

  He’s got the chain from the trash cans tangled around us.

  I dig more at the hole I’ve made in his neck with vigor. I get it open wide, and that makes him relax his hold enough so I can reach for the links. And then I grab hold of the chain. Now, it’s me who does the hugging.

  Wrapping my arms around the wolf, I crawl right up his body, chain pulled tight, until I can wind it around his neck. With leverage, I swing around and up onto his back, the slack of the chain in my hand.

  Bradford drops to all fours, violently shaking his body side to side.

  I straddle him while he swings me around trying to get me off. I manage to stay stuck. Like the ugliest bull ever created, I ride him through more than eight seconds. I keep the chain tight while he makes choked sounds and slows.

  Finally, the beast collapses, but I don’t let up. Not yet. I didn’t come here simply to teach him a lesson.

  It takes long minutes before he finally stills beneath me, completely.

  I move off the giant dog to land on my feet with a thud.

  Leashed, he’s not quite as intimidating. His body transforms back into a man, one who’s growing cold.

  My arm and leg have healed already. I suppose he could heal too, but he seems dead as dead can get.

  Without further ado, and just in case, I pull Bradford’s giant heart from his chest. It takes some doing. Once I have the organ in hand, I drop kick it down the alleyway.

  “Someone burn that,” I say.

  And the men on the roofs watch me in silence.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Crystal

  Goodman meets me on the train. The others left on the one before so it’s just me and him.

  “You okay?” he asks focusing on my eyes too closely.

  I shove his shoulder good naturedly. “Shut up. Let’s just go.”

  No one is on this train. It’s all driven by AI. It will run above the water on a rail for Anthem, there and back several times a day and night. Mostly it runs empty. But then there are the times it brings a bunch of new kids for “treatment” AKA imprisonment.

  We get to walk the train freely because no guards are manning it when there should be no passengers. Dawn is breaking, and it’s nice not to think for once. Instead, I watch the quiet water pass us by.

  “Look!” I point.

  Goodman chuckles and comes to my side. “Cool. Dolphins. Haven’t seen anything like that in a long while.”

  I’ve never seen anything like that.

  We steal snacks from the cabin after breaking the lock. Goodman talks me into playing a drinking game with tiny bottles of alcohol. I suppose it’s for the nurses and doctors who travel often to visit family.

  We do play.

  And I lose.

  Get drunk.

  I can’t remember the last time I was drunk.

  Phillip’s face flashes in my mind and I rub my eyes. He and I’d shared a bottle of Chianti on top of the wall that surrounds Anthem. We’d thrown it into the wilds, and from way up high, watched it disappear without a sound as it fell into dense jungle.

  He’d then kissed me so hard that it had nearly pushed me off the edge. It had pushed me over the edge mentally though.

  I’d been ready to stay stuck on Jeremy for the rest of my life until that kiss. It opened a whole new can of worms.

  He was all that mattered for that moment and it felt good.

  Goodman says something interrupting my thoughts, and I mutter a noncommittal sound and shake my head.

  Goodman figures I need some space and leaves me be.

  I close my eyes and see the anger after the kiss that came much later. It’s like a fresh wound, thinking about that night. He’d started to hate me after a while I think. Lovesick is a real thing. I know it because I am it as well.

  It had proven I could care for another. It had proven that never the less, I am Jeremy’s through and through. I’m starting to hate myself for it too.

  I’m his and I’m Anthem’s.

  And both are sick.

  Maybe both don’t want me. And it’s breaking my damn heart.

  It’s a sad pity party where I sit by the window, knees tucked up under my chin. I can relax like this with Goodman. My new number two. Phillip was number two before. But he’d wanted missions far away. Can’t say I blame him.

  “You know you’re crazy, right, Crystal?” Phillip had said, while packing his things in a small duffle bag. “Can’t see the forest for the trees.”

  “Are you forest or the trees?” I’d asked, arms crossed so hard it had hurt.

  He knew my reaching for him wasn’t a real thing, it was just to pass the time until Jeremy was around again. So, I had stopped that empty gesture. It wasn’t right.

  But he was right. I am crazy.

  That wasn’t even the worst moment.

  “What about the other night?” he’d yelled, not meaning that damn kiss, on that damn wall, on the edge of that damn city.

  He’d meant the one where I’d slept with him after we got free. A man who I barely knew, and after so many of the bad dreams, I’d stumbled into his room, fresh tattoo on my back, after having mooned over Jeremy all night. After our trip to the black-market Jeremy had come home, euphoric, ready to
write about our new sign. The spider, look for the spiders he’d tell Anthem, and me, a forgotten thing no longer his focus, I’d wandered away, rejection fresh, feelings old, and I’d found Phillip’s open door.

  I’d only wanted to ask him to rub my tattoo with salve. But when he had, I’d leaned into him. It was a desperate act, I knew that even as I did it. And when he’d kissed my neck, I’d known a million wrongs that couldn’t make a right, but I’d wanted to feel someone want me for once.

  After the purge “Life is short” had been drilled into me, like a hammer had struck at my core saying over and over: You only live once.

  I’d turned, and I’d pulled Phillip to me, and I’d kissed him like I would have kissed Jeremy after watching him get his own matching tattoo to mine. It was a tarantula, and we’d both had one in the exact same spot now.

  It should have meant something.

  To most it would have. But to Jeremy it meant solidarity where I’d wanted more… so much more.

  Phillip hadn’t known any of that. He’d only seen that I’d gotten a tattoo, and that I wanted his hands on my body. He couldn’t have known the stand-in he was that night.

  But I’d been at the end of my rope

  Always.

  And Phillip had his own desperation. It was in every jerky movement that removed each article of my clothing, and then his own. It was in every tug of my hips lower onto the bed. It was in every kiss, and grab, and squeeze.

  It was in every long stare deeply into my eyes.

  Loneliness quadrupled after the purge. They’d rewired our brains, preyed on our fears and insecurities, reminded us that we were finite things--- but a vapor---and that the world would be nothing but ash in our mouths, everything craved would eventually burn.

  And if I should burn, I wanted the wolf to burn with me.

  I flinch as the train suctions into its tube. The tunnel is darker than I remember. The lights flicker on and I blink. Now it’s too bright.

  We exit the tube after not too long, flying high above the water again.

  Both Goodman and I stand to try to see ahead of the train, like kids on a field trip. It’s the two faces of the Cromwell’s carved into the walls of Anthem. Giant bodices keeping supposed guard, facing the ocean.