by eden Hudson
The sun came up, but the darkness stayed. It looked like the eclipse I’d seen when I was in kindergarten, with a weird half-light like someone had poured blood over the surface of the sun. I waited for the weird light to go away, but it didn’t, even when the sun was full up.
That’s it? The question I had asked Sissy in the last dream I would ever have.
Yep, that was it.
Harper’s feet hit heavy in the upstairs hallway, like she was still drunk and trying to stay upright. She made it to the bathroom without falling down.
That’d been me not that long ago. Three days ago? Four? It felt like a million years.
The toilet flushed and then the shower came on. The shower shut off. I could hear Harper drying herself off and getting dressed. Then she went back down the hall to her room. Her mattress springs creaked. A few minutes later, she started sobbing.
It was late afternoon by the time Harper got back out of bed. She stopped off at the bathroom again, then started downstairs. I hadn’t moved off the coffee table all day. When I heard Harper on the stairs, I put Scout’s hands together on her stomach and brushed some hair off her face.
Then I stood up and got out of the way so Harper could see.
Harper stopped halfway down the stairs. She sat down, hard.
“She’s asleep.”
I didn’t bother trying to argue. Harper knew.
“Dammit, Tough, Scout is asleep.”
I went over to the stairs and started up. Harper met me on the second step. Threw her arms around my shoulders and buried her face in my neck. Her body bucked with the sobs.
“Tough,” Harper said. It almost sounded like she was asking me a question. Asking me to fix it, asking me why, what happened, what do we do now, how could me and her still be alive with everyone we loved dead? “She was my baby sister, Tough.”
I squeezed her tighter. I was crying, too.
“I should’ve protected her. I should’ve got her out of this fucking town.”
I shook my head, but Harper kept talking about all the things she should’ve done. I let her run herself out. After a while, she stopped talking and just cried.
When she was done with the worst of it, she let go of me, went to the coffee table, and sat facing her sister’s body.
It occurred to me that I’d sat in that spot plenty of times before—Mom, Dad, Sissy, Ryder, Colt—and waited for someone to tell me what to do next. The thing you eventually figure out is nobody knows what to do next.
Harper bowed her head and folded her hands.
I couldn’t watch this. It didn’t feel right going upstairs like I still lived here, though, so I went into the kitchen.
“Oh, God, I don’t want to be a part of this.” Harper’s broken whisper made it all the way to where I was standing.
I went to the window and pressed my forehead to the glass, staring out at our shitty little backyard. Hearing His name didn’t knock me on my ass anymore, but it sure as hell still tore my soul up.
It’ll get easier, Tiffani had said.
Yeah, well, it’s not right now, so don’t fucking say it.
You think you’re cold now?
Well, now I was. All the way through.
I hoped whatever Scout had traded for the crow magic wasn’t eternal. She’d fucked up on Earth, been on her way to becoming just as shitty as me, but I hoped she hadn’t got all the way there before she died.
The linoleum in the hallway crackled under Harper’s feet. She stopped in the kitchen doorway.
“All I ever wanted was to marry Jax and live happily ever after. I just wanted to be left alone so we could be happy.”
I didn’t think I could look at her, so I didn’t turn around.
“If we’d had to live here forever and he’d had to work for the Council for the rest of his life and I had to let Logan drink off me until I was too old and gross for him, I would’ve been okay with that as long as me and Jax could’ve been together. I would’ve been happy.”
I squeezed my eyes shut tight.
“Do you know what Scout said to me when she brought me home from the hospital?”
I shook my head, even though I knew Harper wasn’t looking for an answer.
“She said none of us was ever going to get a happily ever after living here, that it wasn’t possible, and that surely I could see that now.” Harper made a choking sound that flashed video clips of Scout laying on the ground with her hand fluttering around that piece of glass through my head.
Harper sniffed. “She told me that before, back after I found out Jax was waiting to propose until he had enough money or a plan or whatever he thought the perfect future was and I thought it was so stupid, but Scout said he was right to want to get away from here because there weren’t any happy endings in Halo. But when she said it the other night—you know how she talks, like she knows every fucking thing in the world— So when she said it the other night, I screamed at her. Told her to fuck off, get out, she didn’t understand, and I hated her. So she went. Then you showed up and I hated you, too. But she was right. If it hadn’t been you killing Jax, it would’ve been him killing you. Or me killing him. Or Scout. Or something awful. Something even worse. Because that’s what it’s like here.”
That’s for damn sure.
“I know she was annoying and screwed up sometimes, Tough. But I loved her.”
I turned around and faced Harper. She was leaning against the doorway, staring down at the floor. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were red and dry like all the tears had given her a sunburn. She took a shuddering breath and let it out.
“I don’t have her anymore. I don’t have him anymore.” She laughed this broken laugh. “All I’ve got left is you and Jesus, preacher boy, and to be honest, I’m not really that big a fan of you anymore.”
I laughed, probably a lot harder than I should have. I laughed until my eyes were watering. You can only get so low before everything starts to look hilarious.
Harper made a face that was probably supposed to be a smile. “I guess the point is I can’t stay out of this fight anymore. We’re stuck with each other. So now what do we do?”
I didn’t know what to tell her. Not very many days ago I’d thought Harper was hot, but that she would never know how to get up and keep going once life knocked her down. Now I could see how wrong I’d been about that.
“I guess we start with the small questions,” she said. “Have you fed yet today?”
I shook my head, not sure what she was getting at.
“Well, you should. Here.” She swiped her hair off her neck and waited.
I shook my head, hard. I would rather find out firsthand whether vampires could starve to death.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” she said. “You kill me? Trust me, these days that sounds like the best possible thing that could happen to me.”
I’d like to say I didn’t drink off her, but you know the story by now.
We didn’t have sex, at least. Harper was my friend. Had been my friend. I couldn’t ruin what was left of that.
I tried to pay attention while I was drinking because I wasn’t sure she was going to fake-collapse—part of me was still pretty sure that she wanted to commit suicide by vamp—but she must’ve been too used to doing it the right way. Her knees gave out and I had to break the suction on her neck so I could catch her.
The vampire side of my brain latched onto that, psyched as shit to have brought down a living creature. I took a couple steps back, wiping blood off my mouth.
The kill-instinct was satisfied, but something else inside me wasn’t. My brain needed more. It needed to be blackout drunk so it wouldn’t have to think, wouldn’t have to listen to that faulty wiring in my head running through everything wrong I’d ever done, everything I could never atone for.
Now there was a word I hadn’t thought I even knew the meaning of anymore—atone.
Consider this my only shot at that, I thought. Not getting to drink enough anymore. Th
at can be my punishment.
Maybe if I’d never tried Scout’s crow-magic blood trick, the separation between how much normal blood affected me and how much more I needed it to affect me wouldn’t have been so far apart. Maybe it would’ve been easier to live with.
Or maybe it was Desty’s blood. Finn had said he couldn’t get enough to be satisfied anymore—that he’d drained three groupies since drinking off her and even that wasn’t enough.
Destroyer blood, like Rian had said. Took it out of your girlfriend’s hide.
But it ended up being Tiffani and Jax’s voice yelling the loudest in my head: Alkie. The way you die is the way you stay.
It was just me again. It was always me. Why the hell I ever bothered trying to find something else to blame my shit on, I don’t know.
Harper found some gauze and rubbing alcohol, but by the time she was done wiping her neck down, the blood charm on her bellybutton ring had already healed up the bite wounds. She tossed the bloody gauze in the trash.
“The next time you see Logan, you’re going to need to offer him something in return for drinking off me. Money would probably be best since you’re not anybody’s protector yet.”
I gave her a thumbs-up. If me and the world survived long enough to run into Logan, I would deal with that then.
Harper snorted. “I can’t believe that after everything you still manage to be such an asshole.” She laughed some more and after a few seconds that turned into crying. “Dammit, Tough. I can’t stop this shit. Am I just going to cry forever?”
I tried to hug her again, but she pushed me away.
“No. Just please tell me what we’re going to do now.”
I thought about it, then went and got the shopping list and pen out of the kitchen.
I got to go tell Owen about Willow and Dodge. Then back to the family business.
Harper read it. “You’re going after Kathan?”
I nodded.
“I am, too, I guess,” she said.
I shook my head, hard.
“It’s not like I can live happily ever after now. And if it helps somebody else never feel this…” She sighed. “There’s nothing else I can do. I either go fight or stay here and wish I was dead some more.”
That I could understand. Fight and die or live and cry.
“I’m going to go get dressed,” she said, heading for the stairs. “Get anything you want out of the house. We’re not coming back.”
There wasn’t anything left that I wanted, but I went upstairs and changed into a clean t-shirt with less blood and dirt and bullet holes. My jeans were just about shot, but they were the only pair I had.
Across the hall, I could hear Harper sobbing again. I pulled my hat back on, then looked around the room for something I couldn’t live without. Mom’s tattooed acoustic was in pieces on the front lawn, the agate pick with Tough written on it that Colt got me for my thirteenth birthday was lost somewhere out there, too. The only other thing I could think of was my beat-up MP3 player, but I couldn’t find it. The speaker dock was on its side on the floor, with the plug hanging halfway in and halfway out of the outlet.
Harper’s footsteps went down the hall. The top step creaked as she headed downstairs.
Fuck it. It wasn’t like I could even listen to music right now anyway. It would just sound like noise.
When I got down to the living room, I could hear something hissing air in the kitchen and Harper digging around in the drawers.
I grabbed the shopping list and pen off the coffee table and wrote a note to Owen.
Harper came out of the kitchen with a lighter and a Molotov cocktail made out of what was left of a bottle of tequila and a washrag. She went to the couch and bent down to kiss Scout on the cheek. Then she stood up and looked at me.
I could smell the gas now, coming from the stove. I wondered whether Harper had turned on all the burners or jerked the pipe out of the back of the connector, but I didn’t go look. I just ripped my note off the shopping list and nodded to let her know I was ready to go.
We headed out onto the front porch. The sky was still the color of dried blood, but since it was night, the darkness didn’t feel as weird.
Harper stopped on the steps, tipped the tequila upside down so it would soak the rag, then she lit it up and threw it through the broken screen door. We were about halfway down the block when we heard the boom.
*
The wind picked up as we walked, kicking up dust devils around us and tearing at my shirt. I pulled my hat down tighter just in case. Overhead, lightning crackled and disappeared. Every now and then the ground shook like the planet was trying to explode from the inside out.
By the time we got to the trailer court, the moon was shining down as bright and red as a new scab. Harper waited out in the street near one of the smaller potholes while I went up the metal steps to Owen and Clara’s little trailer and knocked.
At first I didn’t think anybody was going to answer, but then I heard movement inside. The door swung open.
As soon as Owen saw me, he hit me. He socked me with everything a guy pushing 230 could throw into a punch. It knocked me off the porch and into the dry grass next to his car. He came down the steps, grabbed me up by the last unripped shirt I owned and hit me again.
“What the fuck are we supposed to tell Bitsy?” Owen yelled. “When she starts hollering for mama tomorrow, what are we supposed to tell her? Huh? What? What do I tell her? What the fuck do you tell a little baby girl who wants her mama?”
Then he wrapped his big arms around my shoulders and let loose with some grade-A, certified, country-fried sobbing that shook us both. All I could do was let him get it out of his system. Honestly, I’d been hoping he would hit me some more, give me the ass-whooping I deserved.
When Owen got himself a little more under control, he stepped back and asked, “Dodge? He make it or—”
I shook my head.
He started crying again. “Dammit all.”
Tell me about it, I thought.
After a few more minutes, Owen pulled it together again. I handed him the note I’d made before Harper and I left the house.
Get out of town. Take Bitsy and get somewhere safe. Shit’s about to go down.
I didn’t actually know if there was any safe place left in the world, but anywhere had to be better than Halo.
Owen stared at the note for a while before nodding. “I don’t know how we’re going to explain this to her. How do we tell her why we’re leaving her mama behind? Will and Dodge both… Dammit. Did they… Was it bad?”
I pointed at the note.
He turned it over.
Will and Dodge died tonight. Dodge died trying to save me. Will died trying to warn everybody that fallen angels were trying to sneak around and pick them off. They didn’t suffer. It was fast.
“That’s something, I guess.” But it wasn’t. You could see it in his face. “I should’ve gone, too. Maybe I could’ve—”
I grabbed his hand and turned the note back over, then pointed at one word—Bitsy.
“Yeah.” Owen didn’t sound too convinced. He looked back at me. “You’re going to get them back for this, aren’t you? Will was—” His voice cracked again and two huge tears rolled down his cheeks. “She was so good. They put out a light with her. Dodge, too. You know what I mean, don’t you? The world needed people like them. The payback for that ought to fit the crime.”
I nodded. It’s going to.
Godkiller
We pulled the liquid metal and rock outward from the center of the planet, cracking the crust in places that had never seen a lava flow. Ash and poisonous gases filled the air, choking the life from human and NP bodies alike.
“You have to stop.” The voice was quiet, but it cut through us, to the center of our being.
We turned to find Him there. (God with us, now literally.)
“It’s always been literal,” He said.
“You think that makes it better?” we yelled.
“You were always with us?” we raged. “You were there when they stuck that coat hanger into me and ripped out my insides? You were there every time Leif raped me, then said he’d tell everyone in school I was a slut if I broke up with him? When Mom was deciding she would rather be dead than our mom? When Dad was fucking a girl young enough to be our big sister? When vampires used us, when boys and angels treated us like cum rags, when we used to cut ourselves and pray to die, and when we laid awake all night crying and praying for you to make everything okay, you were there? YOU WERE THERE?”
Moons and planets shook in their orbits. Asteroid belts and planetary rings ripped apart, firing meteorites and debris out into the solar system.
We reached out our hands to take Him apart, but He grabbed our wrists. Then He said a name that we had never heard before.
It was mine, it was me. I…we… It was us as one. It was my name.
“Yes, I was there,” He said. “Go ahead. Ask.”
We thrashed in His grasp, but He didn’t let go.
“Why didn’t you do anything?” we demanded. “Why didn’t you stop it?”
“Desty already knows the answer to that,” He said. “You both know the answer, even if you can’t get it through to your emotions yet. Do you think you’re the only one who gets free will?”
We screamed. It was the sound of continents cracking apart, of nuclear bombs detonating. Any mortal within hearing distance would have dropped dead at the sound.
“That was my feeling as well,” He said.
Our fury raised in pitch until the air caught fire with it. The holocaust exploded off of us in a flare of fire that scorched the moon and turned smaller meteorites to ash. The sun shuddered and flickered. For a moment, it looked as if it would burn out. Then He spoke a word and it returned to full strength.
“What now, —?” He said my name again in the language I couldn’t speak. “Will you fight me? Try to destroy me?”
“You watched! Everything they did to us and you just stood back and watched! You let this happen to us! You made us this by doing nothing!”