by Griffin, Gen
I choked on the smoke. “You aren't going to die.”
“Never say never,” Seth eased the engine down to a slow idle. “Not all gods are infallible.”
“You aren't a god,” I reminded him tiredly. “And even if you were, wouldn't dying kind of render all your precious prophecies useless?”
“I don't ever recall saying they were useful,” Seth clarified. “Besides, you can't ever take a prophecy as proof that you're going to survive the rest of the day. Trust me, prophecies don't mean shit when it comes to predicting who lives and who dies.”
“But, if you're supposed to live-.”
“Death changes the prophecies,” Seth cut me short. “Believe me. I never wanted to be the high priest. My brother Jeremiah was supposed to be the one who lead the church. The prophecies didn't show me as the high priest until after Jeremiah died.”
“Oh.” I shuddered slightly. “Who would be high priest if you died?”
“No idea.” Seth's expression implied he'd never even considered the question before. “Hell, I don't even know if there would still be prophecies. Vera has never had any visions. Not sure if the old prophecies would still apply with both me and Jeremiah dead.”
“Let's not find out,” I said abruptly. “I don't even want to think about you dying.”
“Aw, are you starting to care?” Seth grinned at me with his usual coldness, but there was a slight flicker in his one light blue eye that made me wonder if the question wasn't entirely sarcastic.
I took a deep breath and tried not to think about exactly how dead I would be without Seth. “I'll never be able to save my parents without your help.”
Seth sat silently for a minute and then grunted. “You'll never save your parents sitting around here all day either. We need to get moving if we want to make it Ra-Shet before sunset.”
“What are we waiting for?” I asked with fake brightness.
“I'm waiting for you to get on that dirt bike.” Seth pointed at the second bike. “The sooner you learn how to operate it, the sooner we save your parent's lives.”
With considerable reservations, I got on the dirt bike. Thirty minutes later we were roaring down a narrow trail through the woods. I was finally headed for the city I'd only ever seen in my worst nightmares.
Chapter 5
“You don't honestly expect the high priest of the Church of Chaos to just go waltzing into the city, do you?” Seth leaned on the dusty front counter of the long closed beauty school and held up two dingy boxes of hair dye.
We'd made it to the abandoned beauty school with less than an hour until nightfall. Seth had parked the bikes inside a dingy old storage room that was full of discarded mannequins and rotting beauty supplies.
He'd explained to me that the Church had 'claimed' the beauty school as an outpost years ago. The crosses that had been spray painted onto all the doors and windows of the building backed up his claims. We would be safe here for the night.
“Actually, I've been under the impression that you did whatever you wanted to, whenever you wanted to.” I frowned at him as the last brilliant rays of sunset began to fade from the sky behind us.
Seth let out a dry chuckle. “I do.”
“But you can't just walk into the city?”
The city lights were coming on in the valley below us. I couldn't help walking over the gigantic plate glass windows and just staring down at the rows and rows of houses. I'd never seen so many homes. Or so many people. They looked like ants from our perch near the top of the mountain. Tiny ants scurrying through the streets on this early winter evening. I supposed that they were just going about their usual business. Living their lives the same way they had always lived them. Going to work. Going home. Spending time with their families. I missed my quiet, worrywart mother and outspoken father more than I knew how to say. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the dusty, cold glass.
“Maybe I should rephrase. Nothing is stopping me from walking into the city, but it would certainly attract a lot of attention.” Seth spread his long, muscular arms out into a broad shrug and grinned at me. The gaping hole in his lower jaw exposed his jawbone and bottom teeth quite clearly through the side of his face.
“Yeah, I can see where you might.” I was tempted to reach out and touch his face just to confirm that he was real and not part of one of my nightmares. I didn't do it. Touching Seth always made him too real. “They don't normally let zombies just walk through the streets of the city, do they?”
“I am not a zombie.” Seth was smirking slightly as he crossed his arms over his muscular chest. He still had the boxed of hair dye in his hands. “But you're right, they're afraid of me.”
“Because you're-,” I struggled for a second before I remembered the word that he and his church for of followers preferred to use to describe themselves, “- changed.”
Seth winked his cold, ruined left eye at me. The scar that ran from the middle of his scalp to the top of his cheekbone bisected his eye completely. The pupil had changed from light blue to a dead, white color that was more than slightly disturbing to look at for more than a couple of seconds. “Because I'm a legend.”
“More like a pompous ass,” I replied.
He laughed. “I wasn't actually referring to my ego. When I say that I'm a legend in the city of Ra-Shet, I mean that I'm basically the boogeyman. Say your prayers and wash behind your ears, little children, or the Church of Chaos will get you.” Seth grinned wickedly and made a swiping gesture through the air with one hand.
“Oh god. You're not serious?” I ran my hands through my frizzy, out of control brown curls. It was futile to try to tame them but I always made the effort.
“You don't think I make a good boogeyman?” He countered with a mildly surprised look on his face. “Come on, Pilar. You were terrified of me the first time you saw me. You still are.”
“The first time I ever saw you, you snuck-up on me,” I reminded him. “I'd never seen you before. I didn't even know it was possible to partially change into a zombie. You came out of the woods with a sword on your hip and that evil grin you're using on me now. You were scary.”
“Exactly my point,” Seth replied. “I'm fucking scary.”
“Which you use to your advantage,” I spoke the words as I realized where this was headed. “You want the people in Ra-Shet to be afraid of you. You like being the boogeyman.”
“It serves my purposes.” Seth looked smug. “People don't like wandering outside of the city walls when they know the woods are full of monsters.”
“And you'd prefer they stayed in the city?”
“It's not so much the regular people who concern me,” Seth said. “But the king of Ra-Shet wouldn't mind expanding his empire all the way through the mountains. He'd like nothing better than to rape the land of every resource it has to offer. Make every person for miles pay him taxes or be eaten by zombies.”
“He couldn't really do that,” I said.
“Want to bet?” Seth asked. “You clearly don't know what happens to the nice citizens of Ra-Shet when they fail to pay their taxes.”
I looked into his good eye, trying to determine if he was joking. His expression was serious. “What happens?”
Seth stepped up to the window beside me and tapped on the glass. “Do you see the double wall that surrounds the city? The circular one with all the lights on it.”
I nodded. “I see it.”
“You see the gates?” He pointed at the narrow corridors that appeared to poke out through the walls like spokes on a wheel.
“Yes.”
“Two of the gates are normal. They're nothing more than reinforced doors with guards posted on both sides. You show your official city pass, they let you in. You show your official gate pass, they'll let you out. Perfectly normal every day operations. The third gate, though. That one is different.”
“Which one is the third gate?” I asked.
“The one closest to us. It faces west.” He was standing so close t
o me that I could feel the slight heat radiating off of his body. His expression was grim as he directed my attention the gate in question.
“Okay. I see it.”
“The west gate actually has two gates on it. One attached to the inner part of the city and one that is attached to the outside wall. The corridor between the two gates is occupied by a starving horde of zombies.”
“What?” I stared at him in horror. “Why would they keep zombies so close to the city?”
“The king uses the zombies to keep the people under his control. If you break a law in the city or fail to pay your taxes, then you have to leave the city through the west gate.”
“You mean-?” I could barely wrap my head around the concept.
“I mean that the guards lead you up to the inner door of the west gate and they shove you out onto a platform that puts you ten feet above the heads of the zombies. There is a ladder going down to the ground. You have five minutes to climb down the ladder from the platform before the guards use an electric cattle prod to force you down into the horde. If you can make it across the corridor to the outer wall gate, you're free to leave the city.”
“Oh my god.” I bit my lip and sucked in my breath. “It's murder.”
“Mostly. Yes. The people who go into the west gate corridor don't typically make it out alive.”
“Has anyone ever survived?” I asked.
Seth's expression was darkly serious as he stared down at the city. There was no mistaking the hatred I saw in his one blue eye. “People have made it out. Every once in a while someone gets lucky and makes it to the gate. The spectators boo and throw food when that happens.”
“Spectators?” I asked.
“Sure. Why not?” Seth turned to face me head on. He raised one dark eyebrow at me. “Can you think of anything better to do on a Wednesday morning than watch people die because they couldn't afford to pay their rent to the city?”
My mouth felt dry. “Why do I get the feeling this is personal for you?”
“When I was six years old, my father made a mistake down at the quarry and his supervisor fired him from his job hauling rock. He didn't find another job until almost two months later. He thought he was going to be able to catch up the rent and tax payments, but then Vera got sick. He spent the tax money on a bottle full of antibiotics. Saved her life. Four days later, the king's tax men hauled him off to the west gate and threw us out of our home. I watched my father get ripped to shreds by the zombies in the corridor.” Seth snarled down at the city. “Let's just say it made an impression on me.”
“That's horrible,” I said after a slightly stunned pause. “I didn't know. I didn't even know you grew up in the city.”
Seth nodded. “I lived in the Burroughs until I was twelve.”
“The Burroughs?”
He leaned closer to me and pointed to the far edge of the city walls. “See the top of the hill.”
“You mean where all the houses start to cluster together?”
“They're not even houses,” Seth said with a snort. “More like holes built into the hillside. The Burroughs are the poorest part of the city. It's where the beggars, thieves, drunkards and the hopelessly sick live.”
“You grew up there?” I was stunned to realize how little I knew about him.
“We moved to the Burroughs after my father was slaughtered in the corridor. It was supposed to be temporary, but my mother got sick working in the clothing factory. Some of the chemicals they use to dye the fabrics are so toxic that they burn your lungs. I remember being a kid and watching the skin fall off of her hands at night when she tried to do housework. Jeremiah, my older brother, wouldn't let her cook dinner because her fingernails used to fall off in our food.”
I gagged slightly but said nothing. Seth didn't seem to notice my disgust. He was more lost in his own thoughts than I had ever seen him.
“Eventually her hands stopped working altogether. I don't really remember what finally made her leave the clothing factory, whether they fired her because she could no longer do the work or if she finally quit. Either way, it was too late. The chemicals from the dye baths had ruined her lungs. It was a cold winter that year and she couldn't breathe. She suffocated on the floor of our living room. After that, Jeremiah raised Vera and me as best he could. He did alright, I guess. We were stubborn and uncooperative kids.”
“I can't imagine you as a child,” I said. It was the truth. “I don't even know how old you are now.”
“How old do you think I am?” Seth seemed intrigued by his own question.
“I don't know.” I didn't even want to try to hazard a guess. “I've never been good with age. Twenty, maybe. Twenty five?”
Seth snorted. “You think I'm twenty-five?”
“You could be,” I was blushing but fairly certain he wouldn't be able to see it in the fading light. “It's hard to tell. I warned you I was bad at this.”
“Plus I have all this gray in my hair.” Seth picked at the streak of white that shone brightly against his otherwise jet black hair. The white hair covered the portion of the scar that was on his scalp, as if the damage that had been done by the blade had struck all the color out of his hair. “Jesus, you think I'm old.”
“I said twenty first,” I reminded him defensively. “All I know is that you're older than me. I mean, you have to be older than me. I'm only fifteen. Or am I sixteen now?”
Seth snorted, his serious mood evaporating almost as quickly as it had come. “You don't know how old you are?”
“I was a few weeks shy of my sixteenth birthday when I left the Cube with Drake and the Scavengers. A lot has happened since then. I haven't exactly been keeping close track of the date.”
“Today is the third,” Seth said.
“Really?” I frowned at him, wondering if he was screwing with me. Seth had a twisted sense of humor. It was one of the first things I'd liked about him.
“Why would I lie?” Seth asked.
“My birthday is tomorrow,” I told him. “November fourth. Same as my Dad's. He always said I was the best birthday gift he'd ever been given. Isn't it funny, me being born on my dad's birthday?”
Seth hesitated and then nodded. “I didn't know. I guess I'll have to buy you a present while we're in the city tomorrow.”
“A birthday present?” I nearly laughed. “My parents are being sold for their flesh in the same city your parents were killed in. You're worried about getting me a birthday present?”
Seth reached out and touched my cheek. “Have to keep life in perspective, Pilar. Can't let the bad completely overwhelm the good. Tomorrow is your birthday. I'll buy you something pretty to celebrate with. Not every day a girl turns sixteen.”
I closed my eyes as I felt his fingertips brush against my skin. It was all I could do not to start crying. “I just want my parents back, Seth.”
“I know. And with any luck, we'll have them with us before the sun strikes noon in the sky. Not that I'm making you any promises.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I know you think they're dead. Thank you for coming with me anyway.”
Seth smiled down at me. “You're welcome. But enough talking. We have a lot to do before we go into the city in the morning.”
“We do?”
Seth reached up and tugged on the white streak in his hair again. “We do. Or at least, I do. You don't really need a disguise. You don't know anyone in Ra-Shet.”
“You're dyeing your hair?” I recalled the two boxes of hair dye that he'd been holding when we'd started the conversation.
He nodded. “Can't have anyone recognizing me as the high priest when we're in the meat market tomorrow morning. It would be messy.”
“Messy?” I didn't like the sound of that.
“The king of Ra-Shet and I aren't exactly friends. The last time I was in the city, I burned half of it to the ground.”
“You did what?” I was stunned. “Why did you burn the city?”
“For revenge.” Seth admit
ted his motive as casually as he would have said the sky was blue. “The king was responsible for killing Jeremiah. I returned the favor by firebombing market square. Let's just say that I made an impression.”
“Oh Seth.” I stared back down at the city below us. The lights didn't look so pretty now that I knew about the corridor of zombie death that stood between those bright, shining lights. “The king of Ra-Shet. Is he afraid of you?”
“I hope so,” Seth said. “He hates me, but I don't know that he fears me. Hate and fear are two different things.”
“Yes,” I said with a frown. “You're right. Hate and fear are two very different things.”
“It would be best if we could get in and out of the city without anyone recognizing me tomorrow,” Seth said.
“Do we have a plan?” I asked.
“A loose one. I want to be in the city first thing in the morning. We can enter through the South gate. It's the gate closest to the meat market. By the time we actually get to the meat market, it should be close to opening time. We'll be pretending to be ordinary shoppers.”
“Just a normal pair of rich cannibals looking for our next dinner?” I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice. Seth shushed me with a wave of his hand.
“Most of the people who go into the meat market are gawkers. Not buyers. Human flesh is expensive. Only the wealthiest households in the city can afford to buy human meat. The rest of the people in the meat market are just morbid tourists.”
“What are we going to do once we find my parents?”
“If we're lucky?”
“If we're lucky.”
“If we're lucky, we'll buy them and leave.” Seth winked at me. “Hopefully they won't be selling for a premium.”
“You're planning on buying my parents from the flesh brokers?” I was surprised.
“You'd rather we have to fight our way out?” Seth asked skeptically. “The meat market is heavily guarded and very busy. It would be you and me against 20 or more people. Even taking into consideration that people would be afraid of me if they knew who I was, the price on my head is going to make them pretty brave.”