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Retribution (Book 3 of The Dominion Series)

Page 24

by Lund, S. E.


  He sighs heavily and stands in front of me.

  "He's right. It's still early, but there's enough chaos despite our efforts that some may be willing to risk it."

  "He also says I should come and be with him now."

  He says nothing for a moment, but then he glances away, his gaze moving to the picture window looking out over the ocean as if he's fighting with himself.

  "You should. Now's the time. I should go south to Boston. That's where I should be."

  My heart squeezes to hear him give in so easily. "You think I should go and be with Michel?"

  He nods, but doesn't look at me. "Looks like it. It's the only way to stop Dominion. It's the price we'll have to pay to preserve humanity. I'll have to set up surveillance on known Blackstone cells in Boston."

  "You won't be upset if I go to Michel? Become his submissive?"

  "It's for the best. You have to go. You'll be safe with him. We'll be together again one day."

  He looks back at me and in the low light from the fire, I can see tears in his eyes, as if his words and his emotions are at odds. Without thinking, I go to him and he's still unable to embrace me. He tries to pry my arms away, grimacing as if touching me hurts.

  "Don't touch me," he says, his voice rough.

  "Why? What will happen if we touch?"

  I persist, pushing him, and finally, he practically throws me down onto the couch, which is covered in wool blankets, and looms over me, his hands beside my body, not touching me.

  "I'll have to kill you, Eve!" he says, his eyes wet. "Don't touch me!"

  Then he rises up and cradles his head as if he's in pain.

  "Just go!" he says, pointing to the door. "Go to Michel. Do it now. I have to get ready to go south."

  I struggle to get up from the couch and wipe my eyes. "I won't go. I'm coming with you."

  "You can't Eve," he says, his voice breaking. "You must stay here."

  "You'll have to make me."

  He stands there in silence, struggling, his breathing hard. Finally, he goes to the bedroom, hauling out a large black duffle bag from a closet, which he starts packing with what little remains of his clothes – all those that have no synthetic fibers. He pushes past me and goes to the kitchen for some food and then to the closet for his coat. After he packs up his weapons, he turns to me.

  "There's a horse and cart at the stables I can use. I'm going south."

  I grab my coat and a few things, the Keats book, my shells, some food, and a worn wool blanket.

  "I'm coming with you."

  "It's not safe for you to stay with me," he says as he goes out to the yard. "You should go to Michel."

  "I'm staying with you."

  He shrugs. "If you can keep up."

  I follow him down the road to a farm on the outskirts of town, struggling with my heavy backpack, my weapons in a case over my shoulder. He practically ignores me.

  When we arrive at the farm, I stand in the driveway and he goes to the barn. In a few moments, he brings out a horse and cart. He throws his things in the back of the cart and takes a seat on the bench, the reins in his hand.

  "I suppose you've driven one of these before," I say as I throw my backpack and weapons bag in the cart beside his duffel bag.

  He shrugs. "Not for most of a century, but I know my way around a horse and cart."

  I climb up beside him but he doesn't even look at me.

  "I'll drop you off at Soren's place."

  "No, Julien!" I say. "This is my choice and I choose to stay with you!"

  He says nothing, and gives the reins a shake. The cart jerks forward and I hold on to the side rail.

  We ride along the darkened streets in silence, the clip clop of the horse's hooves the only sound. I stare at the trees that border the road, whose branches sway and move in the wind. A storm is brewing. I wonder if what Michel said was true – that soon, vampires would start asserting themselves. It doesn't matter. I can beat them, if I'm prepared.

  "How long will it take to get to Boston?"

  "Depends on how rough going the road is. I expect there'll be quite a lot of abandoned cars on the roads. It's about thirty miles to Boston.

  "Shouldn’t we wait until daylight?"

  "I have to get there as soon as possible."

  "Why?"

  "Work. Gotta provide security for Soren's estate and work on our battle plan."

  I just stare at him. Where did my Julien go? It's like he's another person entirely.

  Soren…

  He has all of us exactly where he wants us. He has Michel at his side, he has Julien preparing to defend him against Blackstone. Blackstone succeeded in starting a technological apocalypse.

  I doubt it's possible to hate Soren even more than I do now.

  We make slow progress for the first hour due to the abandoned cars that block the main roads, their owners abandoning them, car doors open, hoods up. Soon, the cars thin as we reached the more rural areas along the coast with less development, but that's also a problem. The older dirt roads are clear, but they've been worn down over the years so that there are deep ruts where wheels have carved through the soft earth. A storm hits while we're on back roads, and I have to pull a blanket over my head to keep from being soaked by the rain. Julien doesn't seem to notice.

  Then, an unanticipated problem -- the ground softens under the heavy rain and quickly turns to mud. Despite the blanket, I'm completely soaked, the blanket around my shoulders offering little cover.

  Soon, the cart founders, its wheels stuck. I hold a lantern up that uses cooking oil as fuel while Julien takes the horse by its reins and tries to maneuver the cart out of the rut.

  Other than the occasional boom of thunder in the distance, there's no sound except the rain on the leaves and in the puddles surrounding me. Then, the wind picks up and the flame falters. I shelter it, hoping to protect the flame but the wind blows it out, casting us into darkness.

  "Quick," Julien calls out. "There are more matches in my bag on the seat."

  I run to the wagon and find a package of safety matches, light one and rekindle the flame. Its light casts long shadows amidst the trees. I see movement at the edge of the road ahead, a dark shape moving across the path but there's nothing more.

  "I saw something in the shadows."

  He glances at me but shakes his head. "Nothing we can do but stay alert. If anything stops us, for any reason, keep your wits about you."

  Finally, Julien's able to get the wheel out of the rut and we drive on, the lantern casting a feeble light ahead. As we make our way into the deepest part of the forest along the coast, I worry about the movement I saw earlier. Behind the cart is nothing but darkness, the light from the lantern quickly dissolving into black as we pass. I catch brief glimpses of trees and brush as we drive on when lightning flashes, but as we enter the center of the forest, the trees thicken and soon the rain falls in torrents, obscuring my vision even furtherujj`ki.

  We drive on like this for an hour, and fatigue grips me, but the wagon banging over the ruts on the road keeps me awake. A crack of thunder overhead shocks me into alertness, adrenaline coursing through me.

  Then, Julien pulls up the reins, the wagon almost slamming to a halt. Ahead on the road lies a fallen tree bough, its thick branch making passage impossible. The wind is strong but I immediately feel unease at the thought that someone or something has done this deliberately to stop us.

  Julien whispers. "Watch the back."

  He takes the lantern and inspects the fallen tree. I join him, my nerves tingling

  "Look," he says, pointing to the tree. "Lighting strike."

  I examine the fallen bough. Sure enough, there by the side of the road is the tree trunk. It's blackened where lightning struck, cracking the tree in half, one half remaining and the other falling to block the path. The wood's still smoking where the lightning hit, so it must have been recent.

  Julien drags the branch out of the way and I begin to feel a bit safer. The sun won'
t rise for a long time. Then, I see something out of the corner of my eye - something at the back of the cart.

  I wave to Julien to draw his attention and he immediately stops dragging the fallen tree and holds a finger to his lips. He grabs his dagger from the ground and motions to me to go on one side of the cart, while he goes to the other. We circle it and end up at the rear of the wagon.

  Julien shakes his head and then I see movement at the front of the wagon -- just a flick of ghostly white in the darkness. I hear the clink of metal on metal.

  We run to the front, Julien's gun at the ready, but there's nothing to see.

  "Get in," he says to me, his voice filled with fear. I do without question. The only thing I can look to for comfort is Julien's crossbow, armed with silver-tipped arrows. Then, when Julien tries to urge the horse forward, it refuses, stamping its feet and snorting as if frightened.

  "What is it?" he says, pulling the reins again and again. "Something's spooked him."

  I glance at the trees as the shadows shift, and what looks like men in long cloaks come into view.

  "Julien!" I point to the trees lining the road where several men approach, and from the color of their faces, I know they're vampires.

  I drop into fight mode and Julien is right there with me and together we leave the cart. I grab my weapons and we're on top of the three vampires before they can respond, easily taking them out. I take on one of the three, my weapons at the ready, and stake him because he's like a statue. He falls to the ground, lifeless and I then take my metal sword and hack his head off, thankful that we were trained to do so without thought at the abbey, even though it was just on straw-filled dummies.

  Julien is fighting both of the other two vampires and takes them both down with a couple of quick moves and beheads them as well. I look to the three bodies – the first time Julien and I have fought together and the first time I've actually killed a vampire.

  I'm barely out of breath because they were helpless against us and I realize the importance of Adepts with fight skills.

  "You did great," he says and there's pleasure in his eyes. He reaches out to wipe off some blood from my face but then stops, remembering.

  "This is what I was meant to do, Julien. Not be some slave to Michel."

  "You really do have to go to him, Eve. You'll be safe."

  I shake my head. "I'm not going. I belong with you."

  He sighs heavily and starts to go back to the cart. I follow him, but before he gets there, a flash of light strikes so blinding, a boom so loud, that I'm thrown backwards, my senses leave me.

  What feels like an eternity passes before my vision clears of bright sparks and stars, the brightness fading slowly, but my hearing is still dulled. Flash bangs. Hands drag me from out of some inferno, someone carries me and I grasp instinctively to hold on.

  Before my eyesight returns, I can barely make out the face of my – savior? Or captor? I don't know. All I see are blue eyes and a pale face, still out of focus, framed by dark hair. Behind them a pair of dark wings outspread. Is it Julien?

  Blackness surrounds us for a brief moment and I feel the whoosh of air on my cheeks, and then those eyes recede into the distance, up into the sky, into the stars above.

  Finally, consciousness leaves me completely.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  "The one thing we can never get enough of is love. And the one thing we can never give enough of is love."

  Henry Miller

  I regain consciousness, my vision coming slowly into focus. When I can finally see clearly, I'm inside a covered wagon, the cart banging against the ruts in the road. Michel sits on the bench beside a man with grey hair. Now and then, I hear a hint of conversation from Michel and the other man, but I can't make out what they're saying for the sounds are muffled.

  I feel a bit dizzy and so I reach out and touch the side of the cart beside me to try and steady myself. Then I remember the attack and sit up, my heart racing. I glance around to see where Julien is, but he isn't in the back of the cart. When I siY6t up fully, an intense pain strikes my temple and I gasp and grab my head, lying back down once more.

  Michel turns and sees me. He speaks to his companion and then comes to me, crawling over the bench, sitting beside me where I'm lying.

  "Let me see," he says, leaning over me. He tilts my face so that I have to look in his eyes and I see only tenderness in them. He runs his fingers over my temple, and soon the pain disappears and a sense of calm descends over me.

  "Try and rest. You've had a shock."

  "Where's Julien? What happened?" I try to sit up again but he presses me back, his hand firm on my shoulder.

  "He's fine. Just rest."

  "Where is he?"

  He keeps his hand on my shoulder, holding me down. "He's in another cart. You needn't worry about him. Just sleep now."

  Whether it's due to shock from the explosion or him manipulating me, I don't know but soon, I can't keep my eyes open.

  When I wake, Michel's carrying me through an alley into an old building in Boston. It's day, but when I catch sight of the sky, it's grey and cloudy. Even so, the light bothers my eyes and I shade them. He carries me up some stairs to the third floor offices. The grey-haired man from the cart opens the door for Michel and he carries me inside.

  "We're here," Michel says as he lowers me onto the small couch in Ed's old office.

  I sit up and glance around.

  "Where are we?"

  "We're in a building on the waterfront that still has working fireplaces. We have no other way to heat buildings that relied on electricity for heat."

  Michel brings me a blanket from a chest against the wall. "I have a house in the north where we'll live until Soren calls us to be with him. I have some business to attend to before we can go there." He hands me the old wool blanket, which has faded from use to a soft blue. "Use this to keep warm. These old buildings don't have much insulation so it'll be cold until we can get some kind of heating system set up and running."

  The grey-haired man comes over and stands in front of me. Michel gestures to him. "This is Ethan. He's a police officer who's joined our cause."

  I guess that Ethan is in his fifties, for his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles.

  "Hello, young miss," he says. "Pleased to see you're better. We had a bit of a scare there for a while with your head injury but Michel was able to fix you."

  I frown at Michel. "Where's Julien?"

  "He's at his residence."

  "I didn't consent to come with you so this is abduction."

  "Eve," Michel says, exasperation in his voice. "Why must you always resist me? Resist reality?" He sits beside me on the couch and takes my hand. "You know this was inevitable. Best you just come with me now, rather than later when it might be too late."

  "It's already too late," I say. I try to pull my hand out of his, but he's too strong.

  "I thought you understood," he says. "Now is the time to submit, Eve. Now is your last chance."

  I don't want to be petulant, but it scares me, this future with Michel. His submissive? Him as my Lord and Master?

  "I'm afraid."

  "I know," he says and leans down, his forehead against mine. "You should be, but I'll do everything in my power to protect you. Right now, everyone is fighting just to stay alive. Speaking of which," he says and stands. "You must be hungry. I'll get you some tea."

  He goes to the fireplace, which has a small fire going and pours some hot water out of a tin kettle into a cup. "Milk, one sugar?" he says.

  I nod.

  "Would you like a sandwich?"

  I shake my head. "My stomach's a bit off. Just the tea will do for now."

  He comes back and stands in front of me once more. "I have some work to do, but please, if you do get hungry, let me know and I'll get something for you."

  "Michel, you can't just abduct me and force me to comply."

  "I don't want to force you to do anything," he says and sits beside me aga
in. He leans closer and cups my cheek with his hand, stroking my skin with his thumb. "I want you to freely submit. Haven't I told you that a dozen times?"

  I glance away, not yet ready to do this.

  He goes to a table on which are files and papers. "I don't have much that would interest you," he says as he flips through materials. Finally, he pulls out a newspaper.

  "Here's The New York Times if you feel like reading."

  I take the paper and glance at the headlines as I sip my tea. Football stories and scores along with a political scandal dominate the front page.

  "From before or after?"

  "Just before production stopped."

  Then, it really strikes me just how much things have changed if all I have to say is 'before or after' and he knows exactly what I mean. Before the red rain.

  Before the start of the end of the world.

  After I read the paper from cover to cover, I eat a cheese sandwich. Then, I close my eyes for a while as sleep sets in. In the background is the conversation between the two men, their voices rising and falling, lulling me to sleep.

  Michel finishes up his work a few hours later. He lets me walk out of the building to the cart. He sits beside me, his arm over the back of the bench while Ethan drives. I watch Michel for a while.

  "You knew, didn't you?" I say. He turns to me and he knows exactly what I mean. He looks devastated. "You should have been more convincing if you actually saw all this."

  "I tried, but you were too in love with Julien and too afraid of yourself to listen."

  "What's happening?"

  "War, Eve, between two groups of fanatics who want to bring about an apocalypse. They don't care who they hurt or how many die because to them, humans are nothing more than food and toys. Both sides are ruthless and so must we be."

  We drive southeast, through the old industrial part of the city center.

  "Look at it," Ethan says, shaking his head, pointing to the devastation. "This whole area was revitalized but now it's a wasteland. Shame that people take their anger out on their own city."

  I have many memories of big cities. The dividing line in my life is my mother's death and then the bombing. Everything that happened in between is a fantasy world and I have a hard time believing actually ever happened. The city we drive through is like a huge crumbling garbage heap. There are few people out, only several men pushing carts filled with scraps of wood.

 

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