City Of The Damned: Expanded Edition

by Stephen Knight

  “Arrogant… but bored. Lived so long… needs challenges. Wants to lead… all vampires.”

  “All vampires… You mean he wants to rule all vampires? Here in the US?”

  “World,” Sharon replied. “Everywhere.”

  “I see. And why did he come to Los Angeles?”

  “Challenge,” Sharon responded. “From team. Sun.

  Everything. City so big… so many people. Also needs people for something… don’t know what.”

  “A ritual?” Ellenshaw pressed.

  Sharon’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling again. Ellenshaw cursed the sedative.

  “Don’t know,” Sharon whispered. “But he needs to see it.”

  “What does Osric need to see?”

  “Los…” Her eyes fluttered closed as she slipped into unconsciousness. Ellenshaw sat upright on the stool, irritated. He would have to speak to Kerr about taking her off the sedative. There was little time left.

  He thought about what she had said before going under. Los Angeles? Lost? What did Osric need to see?

  15

  With aching slowness the minutes turned into hours for Claudia Nero. It was hard for her to sit and wait when she knew something was happening. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but whatever it was, it tweaked her senses like a lighthouse beam slashed through a dark night. Her particular psionic talents—empathy, the ability to read emotions, and psychometry, in which she could divine the past history of an object or event—were operating with an intensity she’d never before felt. They were no longer wild. She could control them, switch them on and off at will, but even in the “off” mode, they twitched and stirred. Her psychometric talent was the easiest to manage, since it depended on her coming into contact with something that had absorbed enough psychic energy to leave a residue, and other than the conference room table (two of Kerr’s assistants had made violent love on it almost a week ago), there was nothing else to tweak it. But her empathic skills were clicking on and off, activated by something as simple as someone walking past the closed door. Claudia reached out with that sense, pushing it out before her like some giant hand. The hand’s psychic fingertips brushed against the emotional signatures of everyone in the Plant: Acheson, as he wrestled with copious amounts of grief and regret; Julia, who kept her feelings bottled up behind a thick facade of discipline; Cecil, trying to reach a part of his mind where he could always find peace, only to discover it eluded him; Nacho, edging toward sleep as he patted the head of a large chocolate Labrador retriever; Kerr, struggling with his own anxieties, brought on by Ellenshaw, who he suddenly resented; Ellenshaw himself, growing fatigued and irritated with Kerr in kind; and Sharon, who was now barely a glimmer on Claudia’s new-and-improved empathic radar, slipping in and out of drug-induced fugue states. She captured all of these impressions in an instant, along with impressions from everyone else in the Plant, from the lab technicians processing biological specimens taken from Sharon to the intel analysts chipping away at the amassed electronic intelligence collected overnight. She extended her empathic power’s reach even farther. The physical world slid away from her as she floated about, connected with the great hand that had become her universe and provided all the sensory input she needed.

  In the distance, at the very edge of her newfound ability, she sensed something vague yet achingly familiar. Like a snowflake lying in a field of fresh snow, one shape among millions, but one Claudia knew intimately. The sudden discovery caused her heart to race, and the abrupt adrenaline surge almost cost her the tenuous grip she had on the distant signature. She forced herself to concentrate on her connection to the indistinct pulse. She let her power brush against it.

  Chiho.

  Claudia reigned in her excitement over the sudden discovery and tried to draw it closer, but it was like clutching at smoke. She couldn’t read the specifics of Chiho’s situation. She was alive, that much was certain. But was she alive as a true human or, like Sharon, lying at the doorway to a different kind of existence? Still her heart leapt. Chiho was alive!

  Suddenly the connection wavered and faded. Claudia despaired, and she seized onto it with everything she had. It was no use. The signature dwindled until she could perceive only the merest glimmer of it at the far edges of her perception.

  “Claudia?”

  The voice came to her as if from a great distance. As if separated from her by a world of dreams, something shook her, something distant and unimportant. Claudia felt as if she were still floating, but this time downward, returning to earth.

  She was back in the conference room. Julia and Kerr were on either side of her. Kerr held Claudia’s left wrist in her hand, measuring her pulse, while Julia stared into her eyes.

  “Claud? Can you hear me?” Julia asked.

  “Yeah. Yeah…” Claudia felt dizzy for a moment before everything snapped into place, and the vertigo departed.

  Julia frowned. “You all right?”

  Claudia nodded, even though a terrible lassitude enveloped her. Sweat covered her body, and her heart hammered in her chest. She was surprised at how exhausted she felt.

  Julia looked over her head at Kerr. “Andrew?”

  “She’s had an episode,” Kerr responded. “She’s been Seeing, but it must’ve lasted for quite some time.”

  “I controlled it,” Claudia whispered. “I made it happen.”

  Julia and Kerr exchanged glances again. Kerr ponderously rose to his feet and looked down at her, cupping her head in his hands. He stared into her eyes.

  “Pupillary dilation is fine… her eyes are normally reactive now. You said you could control it, Claudia?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well. Don’t do it again. Whatever you did, it’s taken quite a physiological toll.”

  “I could feel Chiho,” Claudia told him. “Just barely. She’s alive.”

  “Really.” Kerr’s tone was skeptical.

  “You’re upset with Ellenshaw,” Claudia told him. “And he’s pissed with you. The two of you just had an altercation. Am I right?”

  Kerr exchanged another look with Julia. “Yes,” he said, but did not elaborate.

  “I could feel everyone in the Plant,” she continued. “Everyone. I could feel what they were feeling, and what’s more, I actually got some imagery from their feelings. Nacho’s with a brown dog, a Lab, somewhere nearby. Am I right?”

  Julia nodded. “He had his dogs brought in forty minutes ago. You’ve never seen the dog compound he has east of here, have you, Claud?”

  Claudia shook her head. “I’m allergic to animal dander.” She tapped the conference room table and looked at Kerr. “Yi-Ting and Terry Hwang are having an affair, doctor. They got it on right here on this table last week. Go ask, but be discreet—they’re married, only not to each other.”

  Kerr looked embarrassed. “I don’t think we need that kind of detail, Claudia.”

  Julia asked, “You can really feel Chiho?”

  Claudia nodded.

  “Is she…?”

  “Alive? Yes. Not like Sharon.”

  “What do you mean?” Kerr asked.

  Claudia looked at him. “Sharon’s more than half-dead already. She’s going to Turn, and whatever you’ve done won’t stop it.”

  Kerr sighed and looked at Julia. “Do we continue?”

  “Continue with what?” Claudia demanded.

  Julia met her gaze, and the hard shell of discipline surrounding her did not waver. “The vamps did something to you in the hospital, Claudia. We need to know what it was. You can’t or won’t recall, but you’ve been fundamentally changed.”

  “Not because of anything the vamps did to me,” Claudia countered. “Something else. Some sort of… power. And it’s growing, all over the city.”

  “Which is why we’re here,” Julia continued. “We need to know what was done to you, Claudia, and if possible, why. We have to be… aggressive about it.”

  “I’ve already told you everything I can.”

  “I know. B
ut you can’t tell us what you don’t consciously know.” As she spoke, Kerr opened his doctor’s bag, which sat beside him on the table. He pulled out a leather case and unzipped it. Inside were two syringes and several needles, still in their sterile wrappers. Kerr reached back into the bag and produced a bottle of clear liquid. He tore open one of the syringes and fill it with the liquid.

  “What’s that?” Claudia asked nervously.

  “A very light sedative that will make you more responsive to questions,” Kerr replied. He placed the bottle of liquid on the tabletop, then tapped the side of the syringe. Despite his cool facade, Claudia saw he didn’t like doing this.

  Claudia looked at Julia, who hovered by her right shoulder. Unlike Kerr, Julia was very good at masking her emotions, but she couldn’t control everything. She was stressed. She didn’t like this either.

  “You can’t be doing this,” Claudia said.

  “It won’t be harmful,” Kerr said as he pulled antiseptic swabs from his bag. “There will be no long-lasting effects. The sedative is processed by the human body very quickly and should be inert within two hours.”

  “Relax,” Julia said. She put a hand on Claudia’s shoulder, and Claudia jerked away from her, pushing back in her chair.

  “You can’t be doing this!” she said.

  Julia grabbed her shoulder again, this time firmly. The grip communicated to Claudia that she was in control. Her fingertips expertly exploited the muscles there, and Claudia felt a slight twinge of pain. Julia’s expression was neutral, but her emotional signature said it all: she was ready to go much farther if necessary.

  Claudia was terrified.

  “Mark’s authorized this.” Julia’s voice was tight and controlled.

  “But I told you everything I know!” Claudia wailed. Kerr stepped around the table, syringe in one hand, and alcohol swab in another. He had slipped on latex gloves.

  “We know,” Julia said. “We don’t think you’re in control, Claud. The vamps did something to you, like they did something to Sharon, and we need to find out what that is.”

  “Sharon was fanged, I wasn’t!”

  “Claudia.” Kerr’s voice was calm and businesslike, and he met her gaze directly for the first time since coming into the room. “What I’m about to do is not harmful. If it was, I wouldn’t be doing it. Trust us to take care of you right now.”

  Claudia turned to Julia. “You’re doing this because it’s what Acheson wants, right?”

  “No one wants this, but this is how it has to be.”

  “I guess I’m fucked no matter what,” Claudia said. “And here I was, thinking I was part of a team.”

  Julia softened a bit. “You are part of a team. But they have Chiho. We need to get to her back while she’s alive.”

  Claudia sighed through clenched teeth. She didn’t like this one bit, but she knew she’d been manipulated somehow during the raid on the hospital. She could remember almost everything… except for that window of time between when Sharon fell to the floor screaming and Acheson and the others were on the scene. It couldn’t have been more than two or three minutes… but she’d been allowed to live for a reason. As much as she feared the interrogation Julia and Kerr were proposing, she was deathly frightened of doing something that might compromise Chiho.

  Even if she loves Acheson, I still love her.

  She relaxed to the best of her ability and settled into the chair. “Let’s get this over with,” she said, as she rolled up her right sleeve.

  ***

  “She needs to be taken off the sedatives.”

  Acheson sighed and rubbed his eyes. He looked across his small desk at Ellenshaw. The older academician’s poise resembled that of a tense feline that had been backed into a corner by a formidable predator.

  “Talk to Kerr, Robert. If he thinks there’s a chance of keeping Sharon from Turning—”

  “He can’t,” Ellenshaw said.

  Acheson leaned back in his chair. It creaked beneath his weight. He crossed his arms and glared at Ellenshaw.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Correct. But Kerr does, and he’s admitted it to me.” Ellenshaw leaned toward him, putting his elbows on the desktop. His expression was intense. Acheson couldn’t recall a time when the older man seemed as animated. “We need her, and we need her straight, not doped up. She’s barely lucid now.”

  “Funny, you were the one criticizing my decision to utilize her last night.”

  “It would have been more prudent to leave her here, where the vamps couldn’t get to her again. But maybe she can be of even greater value now that they’ve…altered her.” Ellenshaw grimaced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

  “Yeah. Whatever.” Acheson stared holes through Ellenshaw’s head for a few moments, then looked up at the ceiling. His analytical side advised him that Ellenshaw was right and they should allow Sharon to emerge from the drug-fogged stupor she was in. Her developing senses would sharpen as the link between her and Osric continued to mature, possibly enabling her to act as a type of bloodhound. But for how long? What if the link between Sharon and Osric only served to hasten her Turning? Acheson knew that Sharon would want to treasure the remains of her fading humanity for as long as possible…

  Or was that his selfishness talking? Was it Acheson who wanted to savor what was left of her? If I wanted to share her last moments, then why am I in here instead of with her in the quarantine area?

  The answer was simple. Because you’re chickenshit, Acheson.

  “Mark?”

  Acheson roused himself and looked back at Ellenshaw. He was tired, almost numbingly so. He would have to break down and take some stimulants if he was going to stay operational.

  “Mark,” Ellenshaw said again.

  “What the fuck do you want, Ellenshaw?” Acheson said loudly. He knew his voice traveled far beyond the walls of the small office, and he regretted his outburst immediately.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  Ellenshaw ignored the apology. “What I want is for you to make a decision. We’re not getting any do-overs. Either get her off the sedatives and let her help us, or walk into the next fight with one arm tied behind your back. You need to wake up and realize we’re close to losing, and that storm is going to be here in a few hours. It’s going to be their cover, slowing down all the authorities long enough for them to do whatever the hell it is they’re planning.”

  “I don’t need you to tell me what I already know!”

  “Apparently you do,” Ellenshaw shot back. “How much handholding will you need to get through this, Mark? Chiho’s gone, and Sharon’s going—”

  “Are you going to sit there and tell me you’ve moved past what happened to Helena?” Acheson asked with a sneer. “Let me tell you something, old man… when it comes time for Sharon to turn, I’ll be the one making sure she doesn’t go all the way. I’ll take her out while she’s still at least a little bit human. You think you can take out Helena, even now?”

  Ellenshaw looked away. When he spoke, his voice shook slightly. “I don’t know. I thought it’s what I came back for… to try and give her some peace. But I honestly don’t know if I’ll be able to.”

  The pain in Ellenshaw’s voice resonated with Acheson. He managed to get himself under control. “I’ll speak to Kerr. Sharon will do whatever she has to in order for us to get to Osric, but she’s still going to end up in the same place. I just want it to be as peaceful for her as possible.”

  Ellenshaw nodded. “I understand.” Then, after a moment: “She does have a say in this. She can refuse, if she thinks it’s going to cost too much.”

  Acheson snorted and shook his head. “She’s a fighter. If there’s even a remote chance she can gouge Osric in the eye before it’s over, she’ll do it.”

  Ellenshaw nodded again and fell silent. Acheson looked past him as Julia appeared in the doorway. She was haggard and drawn. Behind her, Andrew Kerr loomed.

  “I’m sorry, Mark. We got n
othing from her.” Julia leaned one shoulder against the doorframe and crossed her arms. She looked down at the floor. Behind her, Kerr leaned against the white cinderblock wall, his hands clasped behind him, his head also bowed.

  “Claudia wouldn’t cooperate?” Acheson asked.

  “Whatever they did to her, they buried it deep,” Kerr said from the hallway. “She wants to know what it is herself, but they covered it very well. The only way we’ll know what they did is to wait for it to be triggered.”

  “Is there any chance that nothing was done to her?” Ellenshaw looked at the three of them, one at a time. “You realize it would be just like Osric to toy with us like this. To turn us against each other—”

  “She’s changed,” Julia said. “It seems her power is off the hook. Something’s been done to her.”

  “Then keep her out of the cycle,” Acheson said. “Leave her locked up in the conference room, or wherever she can be monitored and controlled.”

  Julia nodded.

  “Andrew?”

  Kerr looked up from the floor at Acheson. “Yes?”

  “Take Sharon off the sedatives. We’re going to need her after nightfall, when they start waking up.”

  Kerr looked at the tiled floor again. “I presume there’s no use trying to talk you out of that.”

  Acheson shook his head. “How long until the drugs clear her system?”

  Kerr straightened and pushed his hands into his pockets. “Three to four hours. I was liberal with the dosage. I thought it might help postpone the inevitable.”

  “Get her off it. And start handing out some uppers—we’re all starting to crash.”

  Kerr nodded again. He pushed away from the wall, just as a wiry intelligence analyst stormed up. Kerr didn’t notice him, and the smaller man fairly bounced off Kerr’s bulk. The analyst was carrying several sheets of paper, and they exploded into the air as he pinwheeled his arms, trying to maintain his balance.

  “Sorry,” Kerr said, steadying the man before he crashed to the floor. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine, fine,” the man said. He sank to his knees and gathered up the papers.