Night of Never

by Megan O'Russell

  “Then where are you going?” a little girl asked.

  “We’re looking for a friend,” Nola said. “But you’ve got to go.”

  “So do we.” Jeremy walked past the cluster of people. “Go as fast as you can!” He called back as they ran down the road.

  “Why wasn’t that street touched?” Nola asked as they ran around the corner. “The fire should have spread that far by—”

  “Nola!” Jeremy seized her arms, tossing her into the air.

  Pain shot through her shoulder as she hit the ground ten feet behind Jeremy. In a second, he landed on top of her, covering her head with his chest.

  “What?” Nola mumbled the question into Jeremy’s shirt. “What!”

  “Get up slowly, and stay behind me.” He eased his weight off of her, kneeling in front of her until she scrambled to her feet.

  “What was that about?” Nola rubbed her shoulder. The pain had already begun to fade.

  “I know why this street isn’t on fire.”

  Nola peered around Jeremy’s shoulder. A silver and black metallic canister rested in the middle of the street. The pavement hadn’t even cracked where the thing had landed.

  “Is that a bomb?” Nola whispered, her voice stolen by the foolish feeling that speaking too loudly would cause an explosion.

  “It’s a fire pack.” Jeremy took a step closer.

  Nola grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “I don’t know what a fire pack is, but please don’t go any closer.”

  “It’s pre-domes Incorporation tech. When blight started spreading, fire packs were used to purge the fields,” Jeremy said. “Drop them from up high and torch everything below. A bang at the start of the cascade, then pure flames. The fire burns away whatever fungus or bacteria is killing the crops to keep it from spreading.”

  “Or wipes out the city to stop the people from spreading.” A void enveloped Nola’s chest. “The domes did this. Our home did this.” She had no anger or tears. The void had swallowed the place where rage should have lived

  “How did they get them?” Jeremy asked. “This many fire packs, there’s no way they were stored in the domes, that’s too dangerous. And how did they get them in the air?”

  “We have to get to Nettie and get back to Nightland.” Nola skirted around the fire pack, pressing her back to the buildings as she crept past.

  “I don’t understand.” Jeremy followed Nola. “I just…how?”

  “We’re going to find out,” Nola said, “but we’ve got to get Nettie.”

  They kept their backs to the buildings all the way around the corner until bricks blocked the fire pack from view.

  “We’re almost there.” Jeremy took off down the street, glancing sideways to be sure Nola kept pace.

  This street hadn’t been burned either, but smoke hung heavy in the air.

  Turning onto the next road, flames soared up in front of them. The stench of burning rubber singed Nola’s nose. Fire had decimated the houses. The fronts of the buildings had caved in or toppled onto the street, leaving only burning skeletons of homes behind.

  “We have to find another way.” Nola gagged on the stench. “If we cut around—”

  Jeremy took Nola’s shoulders, turning her from the blaze. “There isn’t another way, this is Bellevue.”

  “But…” Nola’s protest faded as she looked back at the flames.

  The twisted forms of melted lampposts dotted the street. The remains of stone stairs lead up to houses that no longer existed.

  “No.” Nola knew the word couldn’t help but she shouted it anyway. “No, no, no!”

  “We have to go.”

  She didn’t fight him as he kept an arm behind her back, guiding her away from the blaze that was the end of Bellevue.

  The fire pack still sat in the middle of the street.

  How can a thing so small cause so much death?

  No larger than her torso, the fire pack didn’t look deadly at all. It could have been built to transport water or fuel for one of the domes’ trucks.

  But it’s killed a city.

  The group they had told to flee was gone.

  “Do you think they made it?” Nola asked.

  “We can hope.” Jeremy didn’t slow their pace, even as he favored his injured leg.

  The smoke had thickened in the time they’d been in the city. Destruction that had been easy to see on the way in now hid beneath a sheet of smoke, as though the fire itself felt the disgrace of what it had done and wanted to hide the horror of its actions.

  A boy lay in the middle of the street. Crumpled up like he’d been tossed aside. The slight rise and fall of his chest was the only thing that separated him from the other corpses they’d seen.

  “He’s breathing.” Nola knelt next to the boy, rolling him onto his back.

  It was the boy they’d spoken to only a few moments before. The one who truly believed the Domers would come for him.

  “We can’t leave him here.” Nola slipped her arms under the boy. Gritting her teeth, she straightened her legs. She could feel the weight of him pulling her off center, but her arms didn’t scream in protest.

  “Give him to me.” Jeremy reached for the boy.

  “You’re hurt. I can do it.” Nola stepped back.

  “He’s bigger than you.” Jeremy holstered his Guard gun, keeping the revolver in his other hand. “If we walk out of here with you carrying him, what will people think? They can’t know we’re different.”

  Nola helped Jeremy sling the boy over his shoulder.

  “Are you sure you can do this?” Nola asked.

  A gray tinge had taken over Jeremy’s face, and sweat slicked his hair.

  “We need to move.”

  Nola took the lead, weaving their way out to the alley between the walls of fire.

  More buildings had collapsed, leaving flaming rubble coating the street.

  Something that looked like a couch or a bed burned like a bonfire in the center of the path. Two charred corpses lay next to it.

  With a wail and a crack, the façade of a storefront toppled onto the street in front of them.

  “Is there another way out?” Nola shouted over the rumbling crash of an apartment building crumbling in on itself half a block behind them.

  “No. Run, Nola.”

  “Not any faster than you.” Nola pushed Jeremy in front of her, running right on his heels as he dodged between debris.

  A glimmer of sunlight shone through the smoke ahead of them. A stretch of concrete filled with people.

  “Almost there!” Nola shouted.

  The top floor of a building sagged in on itself, showering Nola with sparks and catching the tip of her braid on fire. She patted the flames out with her palm, barely feeling the pain as her lungs seared, trying to find usable air within the shroud of smoke.

  A boom sounded from far away, shaking the ground under her feet as they burst onto the highway.

  “Out of the way!” Jeremy called.

  He didn’t stop until he reached the far side of the road.

  “Help me,” he said.

  Nola grabbed the boy’s shoulders, easing him carefully to the ground. The boy was still breathing, but his eyes stayed closed.

  “Can you hear me?” Nola patted the boy’s cheek.

  “Nola.” Jeremy grabbed her shoulder.

  “He needs a doctor.”

  “Nola.”

  She looked up. Jeremy had his head down, his chin tucked to his chest.

  Behind him, the street teemed with people. Some covered in soot. Some in the black uniforms of the Outer Guard.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Oh no,” Nola whispered.

  Jeremy knelt in front of her, pulling the pack off his back. “Give me your gun belt.”

  Nola’s fingers shook as she undid the clasp.

  “Keep your head low.” Jeremy slipped his own belt into the pack with Nola’s and pocketed the revolver.

  “Why are they all here?” Nola pulled her
hair out of her braid, fluffing her unruly curls to hide her face. “How did they even get here?”

  “No idea.” Jeremy glanced back over his shoulder. “How many of them are there?”

  Nola scanned the street through the curtain of her hair. “Two hundred, maybe three.”

  “Way too many.” He shook his head. “A week ago, the domes were down to eighty-seven guards. Even with new people coming in we couldn’t break one-fifty. The domes aren’t built for it.”

  “Then who are they?”

  “If you’re in need of water, come over here,” a voice shouted over the crowd. “Only one bottle per person. They are equipped with filters. Find a water source that isn’t the river and the bottle will make the water pure enough to drink.”

  “They’re giving out filters?” Nola stood, trusting in the crowd surging toward the voice to cover her.

  “Why would they burn a city and help the survivors?” Jeremy said.

  “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “We need to get out of here,” Jeremy said. “If they recognize us—”

  “You mean you don’t think your dad rescinded his kill order on me?” Nola knelt next to the boy. “We can’t just leave him like this.”

  “His own people abandoned him in the middle of a burning street,” Jeremy said. “We can’t take him to Nightland, and I don’t know the first thing about saving someone who’s inhaled that much smoke.”

  “Please line up in an orderly fashion,” a guard called from the center of the throng.

  “What did they think was going to happen when they offered water to a few hundred desperate people?” Jeremy ran a hand over his face.

  Guards surrounded the mass of outsiders. All had guns drawn.

  “Remember to save these bottles,” a guard instructed the crowd. “Keep them with you, and you’ll be able to get more clean water.”

  “From where?” an angry voice shouted. “If we can’t use the river, where should we go?”

  “Where are we going to sleep and care for our wounded?”

  “Why haven’t you brought food!” a woman shoved a guard hard in the chest.

  Two guards grabbed the woman, pinning her to the ground in an instant.

  A clap like thunder sounded an instant later, pounding out from the center of the crowd.

  Nola clamped her hands over her ears a moment too late. The sound throbbed through her brain, shaking away all thoughts but wanting the pounding to be gone.

  The crowd scattered. Some falling to the ground and covering their heads, others stumbling away from the noise.

  Only the Outer Guard in their heavy helmets didn’t seem to mind the brain-shaking sound.

  As the whooshing in Nola’s brain settled, a man climbed up onto a set of crates. His limbs looked almost too long to be allowed, like the world had forgotten the difference between man and spider in his creation.

  The man pulled off his helmet. His bald head glistened in the sun. “We have come out here in your time of need to offer aid. The domes are under no obligation to assist any of you.”

  Nola studied the man’s face, wracking her brain to remember when she had seen him in the domes.

  “We will leave in two minutes,” the man continued. “If you would like a water bottle, calmly claim it now. Any unclaimed bottles will return with us to the domes.” The man lifted his wrist, speaking into the cuff of his uniform.

  The crowd surged forward, pushing each other out of the way to get to the center of the pack.

  “We need one of those bottles,” Jeremy said.

  “I’ll go.” Nola stood.

  “No, some of those guards could be from our domes.”

  “I have hair camouflage, you don’t.” Nola pulled more hair to cover her face, and ran toward the crowd.

  She shoved her hands between two men, prying them apart, and slipped through the gap. Someone stomped on her foot. Stars danced in her eyes, but she pushed forward, shouldering past people until the crates came into view.

  Rows of shining silver bottles sat in the crates. There were dozens of bottles in every crate and dozens of crates in the pile.

  They were expecting more survivors.

  Keeping her body smashed in the crowd, Nola reached her fingers out, barely managing to close them around a metal cylinder.

  A fist swung for her face and nails scraped the back of her hand as she pulled her prize from the crate.

  The punch connected with her forehead. She stumbled as arms wrapped around her chest, pinning her arms to her sides. She kicked back. A crack of breaking bones sounded the moment before the person holding her bellowed, their arms slipping away from her.

  Cradling the bottle to her chest, Nola plowed her way through the crowd, back toward Jeremy.

  The rumble of engines shook the air. The mob scattered, all moving in the same direction as Nola, knocking each other over in their haste to flee.

  Heat licked the back of Nola’s neck.

  “Load them out!”

  Nola glanced back at the shouted command. A helicopter large enough to hold all the crates landed on the street.

  The guards pushed through the crowd, loading the crates onto the aircraft, then formed a line in front of it. All the guards’ guns pointed at the crowd.

  In less than a minute, the helicopter had been loaded and, with a whine of its engines, soared straight up into the air.

  As soon as the helicopter had cleared, the guards turned, running down the highway toward the river beyond. Four dark boats had arrived on the riverbank, waiting to ferry the soldiers home.

  An arm wrapped around Nola’s waist. She jabbed her elbow backwards, catching the person who grabbed her in the ribs.

  “Ouch.” Jeremy coughed.

  “Sorry.” Nola stopped running, but Jeremy kept a hand on her back, pushing her forward. “I didn’t know it was you.”

  “Then I’m glad you defended yourself.”

  Angry shouts took over the street as the sound of the helicopter faded.

  A dozen brawls broke out in a matter of seconds as everyone fought for the bottles.

  “How could they just leave like that?” The question barely made it through her gritted teeth. “They had to know everyone would fight to keep more bottles.”

  Footsteps pounded after them. Jeremy let go of Nola, catching their pursuer in the ribs with a punch.

  “Run faster.” Jeremy took Nola’s hand.

  “What about the boy?”

  “He’s still breathing and I moved him into the shade,” Jeremy said. “There’s nothing more we can do.”

  Nola bit the inside of her cheek, tasting her own blood.

  Helping got Jeremy shot.

  At least you didn’t leave him to the flames.

  They didn’t bother sticking to the trees but sprinted up the center of the street.

  Nola kept at Jeremy’s side.

  I could run faster.

  But Jeremy’s breathing came in rattling gasps, and his gait became more uneven every minute.

  “We need to stop.” Nola tugged on Jeremy’s hand.

  Jeremy didn’t argue as Nola veered off the road and into the trees.

  Others had followed their path, but none moved half so fast.

  “We have a few minutes before they can catch up.” She led him to a tree, pushing his shoulders to make him lean against the trunk.

  “Give me the bottle.” Jeremy coughed. He turned his head to the side and spat black into the brown grass.

  “Are you okay?” Nola took his face in her hands.

  “My body is purging, just give me the bottle.”

  Nola handed the silver bottle to Jeremy.

  He didn’t unscrew the top as she had expected, but flipped it over, examining the base.

  “Do you want water?”

  Jeremy ignored her. He dug his fingers into the seam at the bottom of the bottle.

  “What are you doing?” Nola said.

  He swayed as he reached down, pulling the
knife from his boot.

  “Jeremy.”

  “There has to be a reason.” He dug the tip of the knife into the seam. With a pop the bottom came loose.

  Another layer of metal waited beneath, as smooth and shining as the outside. A blue triangle run through with tiny lines had been stuck to the very bottom.

  Jeremy pulled the triangle loose and held it up to the sunlight.

  “What is it?” Nola whispered.

  “It’s a beacon. They’re in the wrist cuffs the Outer Guard wear. It’s how the domes track guards when they’re out in the city.”

  “And they’ve planted them on all the survivors.” Nola took the water bottle, unscrewing the top before looking back to Jeremy. “Can I drink it?”

  Jeremy nodded. “No use in tracking dead people.”

  Nola took a long drink of the cool water, letting it dampen the fear rising in her chest.

  “The domes destroyed the city and gave trackers to the ones who made it out alive.” Her mouth went dry. She took another long drink. “They’re trying to find Nightland. The guards are banking on some of the survivors making it to the vampires, and Emanuel taking them in.”

  “He won’t.” Jeremy pushed himself away from the tree. “No one will find Nightland. We’ll warn Emanuel. We won’t let the guards find them.” A groan of pain slipped from him as he put weight on his leg.

  “We have to get the bullet out.” Nola pushed him back to the tree.

  “It’s already working its way out.” Jeremy pushed himself up again, not seeming to notice Nola’s hands on his chest.

  “What do you mean working its way out?”

  “It’s like getting shot, but really slowly, and in reverse.” His mouth narrowed into a thin line, and pink splotches blossomed on his forehead.

  “We have to get it out.” Nola grabbed his arm, trying to pull him back, but he kept walking toward the road, dragging her along behind him.

  “We have to get back and tell Emanuel what the domes have done.” Jeremy spoke through clenched teeth. “We have to warn them not to take anyone in, we need to tell Raina we couldn’t find her sister, and I need to get you safely into those caves before the desperate people who just lost their homes catch up to us. I’m not sure if you noticed, but I’m not in fighting shape right now. Our best bet is to keep ahead of the crowds, so we have to move.”