Darkness Comes This Way

by Pixie Lynn Whitfield

  “Thomas, this is too much! We have to get out of here!” Zarah shouted as she sent a female flying through a nearby window. The glass shattered and sent shards upon two Rogues below. One let out a wail that pierced her ears.

  When the two monsters began to advance on her again, she saw the pieces of glass embedded in their faces and arms. Thomas ran up beside her. One Rogue that approached had a large chunk of amber glass protruding from his eye and blood running down his cheek. Their snarls were feral. The Rogues that ambushed them were not the new intelligent breed that had been developing. But as she looked around, Zarah felt a strange disturbance and her brows furrowed in thought. They had to have some intelligence if they had ambushed the Guardians. Or were these Rogues under some sort of mind control?

  “I have a way to get us out,” Thomas whispered near her as the Rogues continued advancing.

  She looked at him, and then briefly down to his hand where she saw a small black tube. He had an explosive. Not just any explosive, either. A rare one that Guardians used to possess, but no longer use due to development issues. Mostly the issues were that Thomas had been the Guardian that created them in the first place. He knew the formula. When he went Rogue and left, that formula and the weapon left with him.

  Zarah didn’t have time to question him. A small piece of her felt grateful he was on their side, and even though he was corrupted by the rabid poisons, he fought hard against them. He proved it very simply just by showing up. She nodded quickly and they turned back to their attackers.

  The first one, the one with the glass embedded into his eye, lunged at her. She blocked him quickly with a swift punch to his throat. As he staggered back, gasping for a breath, the other Rogue took aim at Thomas. She couldn’t watch the two scuffle though. She had to remain focused on the one in front of her, who was already preparing to attack again. In the meantime, more were beginning to descend upon them, to outnumber her and Thomas. Zarah had her silver dagger in hand and was slashing at whatever she could.

  Thoughts of Draven drifted into her mind as she fought her way through the numbers furiously. Where was he? Was he hurt? She couldn’t see him, and it began to set her nerves on edge. There were so many of them. What if he had been bit? Her partner couldn’t lose his life that way and there was absolutely no way Zarah would bring herself to kill him if it came to that. Draven and she never got along before, but this mission had changed something between them drastically. He was now something she’d call a…friend. Something clicked, though, that sent a flood of relief through her. Draven couldn’t be hurt. He was alright. He was there somewhere amongst the fight, unable to be seen, but she knew he had to be fine. She remembered the Bonding Pact. If something happened, she’d know on instinct through that connection.

  Distractions of her thoughts threw her off balance. Glass Eye, as she had already nicknamed the Rogue, grabbed her from behind and slammed her against a nearby wall. The force of the impact caused her to drop her knife.

  As Zarah struggled against Glass Eye, he hovered above her. His fangs glinted against moonlight, dripping with blood and saliva, and his breath was raspy and foul. She feared the worst. She was going to get turned Rogue again. And if she did, would she be so lucky to cure a second time?

  He was strong. It was a trait that any Rogue would have. More strength due to the powerful bloodlust they were lost to. She couldn’t move much under his intense grip as he held her arms pinned above her head against the stone wall. Her legs tried to kick at him, only to slip on the rubble beneath her feet. Glass Eye was smiling something nasty and headed right for her throat.

  Then things began to happen in a flash.

  When Zarah thought she was going to lose her life again, Glass Eye pulled back with a screech and blood splattered out onto her face. His grip released and she looked up to see a metal rod protruding from his chest, Draven standing behind him with a smug smile. He was still holding the rod behind the Rogue.

  “Let’s have some fun.”

  Zarah pushed away from the wall and shook her head at Draven’s remark, picking her knife up from the ground. She looked around, seeing Thomas and Alyssa fighting together nearby. The number of Rogues were finally dwindling. The battle was becoming easier, but she could tell that they were all beginning to tire out. The sun was going to be up soon, too.

  With still-shaky hands, she brought her knife up to Glass Eye taking one last look at him. So close he had come to getting her. He was struggling against the rod, trying to remove it with no luck. He curled up his lip with a growl as she approached him. Furiously, she bared her fangs and glared at him in his good eye.

  “You lose.”

  At that, she took her blade and dug it deep into his heart. When Draven let his body fall, it slumped against the same wall that he’d held her against. The silver poison worked quickly and within a matter of seconds, the rabid was only an empty shell. His one red eye stared blankly up at the ceiling, and his mouth went slack.

  She turned back to Draven.

  “Come on, we have to get out of here. Thomas has—”

  But before she could finish her sentence, another Rogue had descended upon them, this time coming up on Draven behind his back. Zarah froze. Something flashed in the Rogue’s hand. She regained her senses and tried to move forward.

  “Draven, look out!”

  It was too late.

  By the time he turned around to try and deflect the oncoming attack, and she was running forward to try and help, the Rogue plunged a silver knife into Draven’s side. Zarah stood still, shock consuming her as he let out a cry of pain and fell to the dusty floor. The seconds that ticked by seemed to move in slow motion. All at once, emotions overpowered her and she began to lose her senses.

  “No!”

  She screamed so loud, it was deafening, and drowned out the fight around her. The Rogue looked from Draven to her, cocking his head to the side. It was mocking and it only made the rage bubbling within her grow. Something snapped and she began slow steps toward the creature, gritting her teeth. The white-hot sensation at the pit of her stomach returned with a frenzy. The violet pulses flashed in her peripheral again.

  Draven was clutching his side after tearing the silver blade from his body, the blood pooling down his hands. His hands were shaking and he remained on the floor, in too much pain from the slow-moving silver poison in his veins to move. He hadn’t been stabbed through the heart, so he could live if he made it back to The Compound in time to receive care. If they could all get out of this fight. Zarah glanced at him to see how badly injured he was. He needed help fast.

  She stalked up to the Rogue, only fueled by the growing heat in her own core, and before he could react, lashed out. Her hand found a tight grip around his throat and with rage-induced strength, lifted him from the ground before slamming his back against a wall to pin him there. This time, it was she who cocked her head at him in a mocking manner and then smirked. The Rogue gasped for breath and his eyes widened in terror as he tried to struggle against her grip, to no avail.

  “You stabbed my partner.” Her voice was haunting, low and menacing.

  Another creature tried to attack her from behind, but her senses were on such high alert, she didn’t even flinch or lose her grip. She simply used her one free hand, and stabbed the other in the heart in a blinding, angry flash with her silver blade, watching only for a second as he staggered away a few feet, and then collapsed among other bodies to die. When she turned back to the struggling Rogue again, her smile was deadly.

  “Zarah…”

  When she heard Draven, she whipped her head around and looked down. His eyes were wide, in awe of something she was unaware of, and he was still clutching at the wound in his side. She could tell he was in a good deal of pain. Looking around, she suddenly noticed the fighting had ended, and everyone was staring at her, either in awe, or in pure terror. The Rogues were backing away, a lot of them starting to run out and disappear. Thomas was almost smiling.

  “What
?” she asked with a frown.

  About that time, she heard an odd sizzling sound beneath her fingertips and smelled burning flesh. The Rogue that she held started screaming and writhing, fighting to get loose. She turned back with wide eyes, seeing that her hands were burning the creature. Unable to let go at first from shock, the burning became more intense, going deep through the neck as tissue and muscle began to char. Smoke billowed from the rabid’s screeching mouth. When flames erupted, she dropped him and jumped back, staring at her hands in confusion.

  “You’re glowing,” Draven finally said, finishing his thought from a few minutes before. She looked back up, her jaw dropped open in shock and then her partner fell into unconsciousness.

  It was starting to fade, her normal pale-white skin tone returning, but when she stared down at her hands, she saw briefly that indeed she had been glowing—a very soft violet emitted from her body and lit the dark room around them. Whatever it was that had happened, it had made her kill with just her bare hands.

  Twenty

  Zarah rushed over to Draven, trying to forget the incident. Her only concern in that moment was him. The silver poison was taking over and it showed through his skin. Lines of gray had begun to run along his arms, and his breathing was labored. She knelt beside him and began fishing through his pockets.

  “What are you doing?” Thomas asked as he walked over.

  “Looking for his keys. We have to get out of here.”

  When she found them, she stood and faced her brother. Behind him, the Rogues that remained in the warehouse were already starting to get brave again, preparing to advance. There weren’t many left, and they stayed close to the back corners, their growling echoing off the concrete walls. Some curses were hissed and Zarah distinctly heard “Angel of Death” from a few whispering, raspy voices. Her nerves were set on edge.

  Without any question, Thomas leaned down and picked up Draven, hoisting him over his shoulder with a grunt.

  “Damn, Guardian is heavy,” he breathed, and they started running for the door.

  As they reached the front entrance, Thomas reached into his front pocket with his free hand and thrust the black tube at Zarah. She knew how to set it off, and that’s what he wanted her to do while he carried Draven and led Alyssa toward the car. She nodded and watched them continue to run on as she remained standing in the doorframe, staring at the cluster of Rogues across the way.

  They were preparing to charge toward her; she was faster. Snapping the trigger at the top of the tube, a loud buzzing began to sound off and a blue light blinked at the bottom. The Rogues stopped and stared curiously at the weapon in her hand.

  “Head’s up!” she shouted, tossing it into the warehouse. The metal clanked and it bounced and rolled a few feet before coming to a stop shortly in front of them in the middle of the room. The buzzing became higher pitched. They started to back away, scrambling to get out through the back, as she took off running toward the car with a slight limp in her left leg from the earlier scuffle with Glass Eye.

  The explosion hit before she could get to the end of the sidewalk. It blew her forward, sending her sprawling on the concrete with a scream and ringing in her ears. Through the noise, the shrieks and anguished cries of the dying Rogues filled the night air.

  Zarah turned slowly and looked back at the building. It was bathed in blue flames. Inside, she knew the remaining rabids were covered in tiny embedded silver pieces. The poison and chemical fire would kill them soon enough. If not, it would paralyze them until the dawn, and the morning sun could burn them to ash. It was the rare weapon that her brother had created—the weapon he had just used to save them with. She had been blown forward on the sidewalk by the wind of the blast, but was luckily unharmed other than a few serious bruises and scrapes.

  Zarah stood and continued limping onto the car as the Rogues still screamed inside.

  **********

  The car beeped as she hit the remote button to unlock it when she approached.

  “Put him in the passenger seat.”

  “Zarah. You’re hurt,” Thomas said as she opened the car door and he placed Draven in, buckling him in.

  “I’ll be fine. You and Alyssa need to go. That blast is probably going to attract human attention soon.” She looked down at Draven. He was still unconscious. Closing the door, she started toward the driver’s side with the key in hand. To hell with never being allowed to drive his car, this was an emergency. She’d deal with his attitude later when he was healed.

  Thomas and Alyssa had already started walking away with their hands tightly wound into each other’s. Zarah stood at the car for a moment watching their retreating backs.

  “Thomas.”

  He turned back and faced her. When she met his red eyes, she had to stop from recoiling, her instinct…her memories of what had happened between them… and fight back the constant nagging grudge. That night, he had been her brother again. Her face softened and tears nearly stung her eyes.

  “Thank you.”

  Thomas nodded, then waved her off. Zarah had to hurry and get Draven to The Compound. She had so many questions to ask, especially about what had happened with her back in the warehouse, but the questions would have to wait.

  She quickly climbed into the car, revving the engine and sped toward The Compound as fast as Draven’s car would go—tires squealing around every corner she took.

  When she turned into the parking garage, Draven groaned, coming back into consciousness. Zarah could tell he was in a lot of pain and looked at him warily out of the corner of her eye. Slamming on the brakes as she put the car in park, she turned and unbuckled him.

  His eyes were gazing at hers, half open and he was wincing where he clutched at the wound.

  “I thought I said you could never drive my car.”

  “Well, I think this situation could be an exception,” she whispered back, meeting him with a smirk. He swallowed against the pain and nodded slowly before closing his eyes again. Sighing, she climbed out of the car and left him, running into The Compound to seek help from the medical ward because she knew she wouldn’t be able to carry him in.

  The hallways were empty as she ran around the corners. Looking down at her watch, she frowned. The others should be starting to come in from their own rounds about then, or at least very soon. She found it strange that The Compound was so completely empty feeling. Normally, at least one or two Guardians may take the night off to stay behind and keep watch there.

  “Hello!” Zarah pounded on the metal door that led to the infirmary.

  “I need your help out here. Open up!” Her throat ached from all the shouting she had done in the last few hours, her voice already beginning to grow hoarse.

  When the door swung open, a bewildered nurse stood before her. Rarely ever did the Guardians need the medical wing, except on serious occasions such as with Mitchell, the Guardian who went mutant Rogue. The nurse that stood in front of her then was the same one that had assisted them that same night. She looked taken aback by Zarah’s disheveled appearance.

  “Zarah! Are you okay? You’re hurt! Get in here and—” she started in a rush, reaching out.

  “No! Not me, don’t worry about me. I’m fine. It’s Draven. Come on, and bring a chair. He’s critical.” Zarah bent over trying to catch her breath.

  “Is there anyone else here that can help? Where’s Nathanial?”

  The nurse, Cathy, was already wheeling a chair out into the hallway with a shake of her head.

  “They’re still all out and haven’t made it back in from their rounds yet. Nathanial went out, too. Just us now.”

  Zarah nodded and they began racing back toward the car again to get Draven. Between the two of them, they should be able to get him into the wheelchair and down to the medical ward. There wasn’t a doctor anymore since Mitchell had killed the other, but Cathy was perfectly capable of handling the situation.

  “Oh my… Zarah… What the hell happened to you two?” she slowly asked when s
eeing Draven.

  “We were ambushed by a very large pack of Rogues in an abandoned warehouse.”

  “You’re lucky to be alive. Two against so many,” Cathy replied. They carefully pulled him out of the seat, and with a little struggling, finally managed to get him in the wheelchair with a white blanket over his lap.

  Zarah stared down at him in silence, watching the blood stain already beginning to form through the sheet. He groaned in pain as he went in and out of consciousness and they started quickly back toward medical.

  “Yes. Lucky,” she barely whispered.

  Zarah knew it wasn’t just luck, though.

  *********

  She felt odd sitting in the waiting room while Cathy was in the examination area tending to Draven. The seconds on the wall clock above her seemed to tick loudly against her temples as she tapped her foot to a rhythm. Her limp from earlier was already starting to feel better. Zarah had always been a fast healer.

  “Zarah?”

  She looked up to see Cathy standing near with a solemn expression.

  “I have good news, and I have bad news.”

  Zarah stood, taking a deep breath. Looking quickly at the clock again, she saw that barely fifteen minutes had passed since Draven had been taken into the examination room. That had been some speedy service. Or was that part of the bad news? Was something so terribly wrong and unable to be fixed that there was nothing more Cathy could do? Where the hell was everybody else and why were they so late coming in from their rounds, anyway? She frowned and turned back to the nurse with a nod.