Night of Never

by Megan O'Russell

  We could sneak away, hide where no one will find us.

  “I need to turn these samples in,” Nola whispered.

  “We must work for science.” Jeremy took her hand. “What the world needs is more mushrooms, and I think you’re just the one to deliver.”

  “Stop it.” Nola knocked her shoulder into his arm.

  “Then we spar?” Jeremy asked.

  “Oh yes,” Nola said. “Raina laughing and telling me I’ll never properly gut someone is my favorite time of day.”

  “It brings her inside,” Jeremy said. “That’s something.”

  Nola’s joy faded away, popped like a bubble of soap she had been foolish enough to think she could hold in her hand.

  “It is good for her to come in for a while,” Nola said. “We all have a job to do, but…”

  “Her sister isn’t coming,” Jeremy said.

  “No, she’s not.”

  They walked in silence until the crackling of remembered fire grew too loud in Nola’s ears.

  “How was Emanuel today?”

  “Fine. We talked about organizing everyone for training sessions and working on drills for evacuating non-combatants in case Nightland is attacked.”

  “And?”

  “And there’s nowhere to go,” Jeremy said. “Everyone could run to the mushroom farm, but there’s no way to reinforce or create an exit. The survivors would end up in a siege with the guards, and there’s no way Nightland would win.”

  Nola bit her lips together, holding her question as four children ran past. Each of them held a book in their hands.

  A hope for the future if the domes will allow us to have it.

  “So there wasn’t any progress?” Nola stopped in front of a metal door.

  “Well”—Jeremy glanced up and down the corridor—“a helicopter was spotted in the sky.”

  “What?” Nola squeaked. She clapped a hand over her mouth as her voice bounced down the hall.

  “It took off at daybreak and flew away. There’s been no sign of it since.”

  “What does that mean?” Nola held Jeremy’s hand with both of hers, clinging on like she already knew what he was going to say.

  “Not sure. Emanuel and I agree, if we don’t see any movement, in two days we send scouts down to see what’s happening.”

  “No,” Nola said. “Why would anyone go down there? The only information we could gain is that we don’t need to hide anymore. It’s past season for the garden, we can wait—wait a month even—then see what’s going on.”

  “What if they’ve brought in more guards?” Jeremy asked. “What if they’re rallying guards from all over the world to attack us?”

  “Does it matter?” Nola asked. “There’s nowhere else for us to go. We have to stay here, so we should just stay hidden.”

  “If they’re going to come for us, we could disband,” Jeremy whispered. “Head out in small groups. They wouldn’t be able to find us all, and some people might make it. If they attack while we’re all here, we all die.”

  Nola pressed her forehead to his chest, searching for a reason to tell him he was wrong.

  “If we have to run—”

  “We run together,” Jeremy said. “There’s no question of that.”

  “And T and Beauford come with us,” Nola said. “I won’t leave them.”

  “I wouldn’t ask you to.”

  “And if you go on the scouting mission to the domes”—Nola squared her shoulders—“I’m going with you.”

  “Absolutely not,” Jeremy said.

  “Then you don’t go either,” Nola said. “The only reason you’d be a better choice than Raina or Desmond is because you can go in the daylight. If you have to go in the daylight, you aren’t going alone, which means I’m coming with you. I’m the only other superhero we’ve got, remember?”

  Jeremy stared up at the ceiling for a long moment. “We’ll just keep our fingers crossed that something will change in the next two days that will keep Nightland safe and you in the tunnels.”

  “Why two days?” Nola asked.

  “That’s when you get your last dose,” Jeremy said. “I won’t risk either of us going far from Dr. Wynne before you get that injection.”

  Pain raced through Nola’s veins at the thought of the ice flooding her again.

  “Right.” She nodded, feeling like her head was bobbling uselessly around. “Right. Mushrooms. I should get these in to him.”

  “Want me to come in?” Jeremy asked.

  “Better not,” Nola said. “I’ll meet you in the sparring room?”

  “I’ll be the one with the bow staff.” Jeremy kissed her and left her in front of the metal door.

  Nola turned the handle without knocking and stepped into Kieran’s lab.

  Chapter Twenty

  Beakers bubbled on the table, sending puffs of steam into the air. Vines grew up the far wall, their color gray though the plants thrived. Terrariums of insects lined one side of the room, while cupboards and a heavy sink stood along the other.

  Kieran sat at the center of it all, hunched over a scraped up microscope that looked older than him or Nola. He glanced up for only a second when she entered his laboratory.

  “I’ve brought all the samples,” Nola said. “Things are still going well. Too bad people can’t live on mushrooms alone or we’d be set for the whole winter.”

  “The animals can eat the extras.” Kieran kept his eye pressed to his microscope. “Better to have too much than too little.”

  “Of course.” Nola dropped her bag on the table, careful to let it fall with a thump.

  Kieran’s jaw tensed, cutting into a line that looked more statue than living.

  “Do you want me to test the samples?” Nola opened the far cupboard, pulling out the giant binder that held all the data from the mushroom field experiments.

  “I can do it,” Kieran said. “You should go meet up with him.”

  “Him?” Nola dropped the binder onto the table. “You mean Emanuel, Beauford, Julian?”

  “Jeremy.” Kieran gripped the table, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. “You know I mean Jeremy. I could hear his voice through the door.”

  “You’re right.” Nola pulled the samples from her bag, laying them out in a long line. “Jeremy walked me here, and he’s waiting for me in the sparring room. But he has practicing of his own to do, so I have time to do the work myself.”

  She unwrapped the first set of samples. A young button mushroom from one of the beds. “We should look at putting in more places to grow in the cavern. There’s plenty of room, and it’s going well.”

  “He could have come in with you.” Kieran stood.

  For a moment, Nola thought he would walk toward her, but he headed to the cupboards, pulling out a green file. He didn’t say anything else as he walked past her back to his seat.

  “Did you want Jeremy to come in with me?” Nola asked.

  “I’m sure he’d be happier if you weren’t alone with me.” He scratched out notes on his paper.

  “I’m surrounded by vampires all the time. I don’t think you’re any more likely to try and hurt me than the rest of them,” Nola said.

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “I know.” Nola pulled an oyster mushroom from its wrapping. “Jeremy trusts me.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Don’t hmm, Kieran.” She pulled the glass vial from its cloth. “Just because you live in a warped little world where trust is something most people don’t bother to understand doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.” The vial snapped. Nola gasped as shards of glass cut deep into her palm. “Dammit.”

  Kieran took her hand, his cold fingers touching her skin before she even knew he’d stood up.

  “We need to wash out the dirt.” He moved toward the sink.

  “The dirt won’t hurt me, Kieran.”

  He closed his eyes, nodding to himself before opening them again. “Right, you’re right. But we at least need to pull out the g
lass.”

  His black eyes didn’t turn up to her face as he ran water over her palm.

  The water in Nightland held no heat. It matched the cool of the vampires’ skin. Graylock hadn’t stolen Nola’s warmth. It had left her maddeningly close to human. Her flesh warm, feeling every chill of Kieran’s touch.

  “I know you trust Jeremy,” Kieran said, his tone barely above a whisper. “And I want you to be right about him. I just…”

  “Just what?” Nola held her hand still as Kieran pulled free the first shard of glass.

  “I’ve loved you for a very long time, Nola. You were my whole world. Dead mom, crazy dad…you were everything to me. If I hadn’t left the domes, we’d probably still be together.” A smiled touched Kieran’s lips.

  “I never wanted you to leave.” Blood dripped from Nola’s hand, falling to the stone floor. “I mourned for you. It was like you died.”

  “Sometimes, I wished I had,” Kieran said. “But Dad had a mission. He had to save people, and I had to make sure he didn’t die doing it.”

  “He did save a lot of people.”

  “That’s just it.” Kieran finally met her gaze. “Half of Nightland wouldn’t be here without him, without ReVamp. Some of the humans would be dead, too.”

  “And without you, what food would there be?” A tingle of something itched at the center of Nola’s chest.

  “Not enough to keep our people fed.” Pleading filled Kieran’s eyes. “The day we got kicked out of the domes was the day I lost you. And then when you came to Nightland, for one crazy moment, I thought I could have you back.”

  “So did I.”

  “But it was already too messed up, Nola. You never could have walked away until the domes made you. And you had Jeremy waiting for you and protecting you in ways I couldn’t, because Nightland is my home. These are my people. They have been for a long time.” He ran her hand under the water again. “But the thing is, if I could go back, I wouldn’t change it. If Dad and I had stayed in the domes, a lot of people would have died because we wouldn’t have been there to help.”

  “Kieran—”

  “I love you, Nola. I will always love you, and maybe I’ll never love anybody else. But I can’t regret what’s happened. I can’t regret the Nightland I helped to build.”

  “What you’ve done is amazing.” Nola touched Kieran’s cheek. “If this place didn’t exist, I don’t know what would have happened.”

  He held her hand to his face. “I know I’ve messed up a hundred ways, and I don’t know if you’re ever going to be able to forgive me or trust me. But I don’t think I can survive in this tomb with you hating me. And Jeremy hating me. Jeremy and I used to be friends, and…I don’t know if I can be happy for you yet, but I’m going to try. And maybe someday—”

  Nola wrapped her arms around his neck, laying her cheek next to his. “We’ll all work on it. On trusting each other. There are only five ex-Domers here. We can’t afford to hate each other.”

  “We can’t.” Kieran held her tightly. “I’ve really missed you, Nola.”

  “I’ve missed you too.” A tear fell from Nola’s cheek, mixing with the blood she’d dripped on Kieran’s shoulder. “Sorry I bled on you.”

  “A snack for later.” Kieran gave a tiny smile. “Too much?”

  “Maybe a little.” Nola shrugged.

  The tiny tingle in Nola’s heart had turned into a painful tear. “Is this supposed to hurt?”

  “It hurts me,” Kieran said, “but I won’t keep fighting it and make you hurt more. That’s all it would do, and I can’t take that.”

  “Right.” Nola rubbed her fingers over her palm. The cuts had already disappeared. “How long do you think it’ll hurt?”

  “For me?” Kieran turned back to his worktable. “Forever.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “You’ve got to pay attention,” Raina growled. “Your work is sloppy.”

  Nola wiped the blood off her cheek. “Well, my face is bleeding.”

  “You’ll heal.” Raina prowled the inside of their sparring square.

  “I also don’t know what I’m doing,” Nola said.

  “You’re distracted.” Raina flipped her blade back and forth in her hand. “Distraction gets people killed. Not paying attention gets people killed.”

  Raina threw her knife at Nola’s thigh. Nola dove to the side.

  “Hey!” The shout came from behind Nola. She rolled over to see a man hopping on one leg, Raina’s dagger protruding from his calf.

  “What the hell do you…” his voice trailed away as his eyes found Raina’s face. “Sorry.” He grimaced as he pulled the knife free, carefully wiping his blood from the blade as he hobbled over to Raina. “Sorry.” He passed her the blade with a bow, leaving a trail of blood behind as he limped back to his own square.

  “See what happens when you don’t listen, Domer?” Raina held her blade up to the light as though inspecting it for any damage the man she stabbed might have done to it.

  “I am listening,” Nola said. “I promise I’m listening. I’m just not very good at fighting.”

  “Sure you are,” Raina said. “Your heart just isn’t in it. I heard from a little birdy you even stabbed yourself a vampire in the domes. You have to want to kill, Nola. You can’t just want to learn to swing a knife around. You have to learn to want to kill. Now let’s go again.”

  Raina tossed her knife into the air, letting the blade spiral before catching the hilt with a grin.

  A flicker of red moved behind Raina’s shoulder as Jeremy stepped away from his match to watch.

  “Don’t look at lover boy. Look at the one holding the knife,” Raina said. “If it comes down to a fight and you worry more about where he is than who’s trying to kill you, you’ll end up dead. Then he’ll probably end up dead because he’s distracted by your death. So get your shit together and focus on not getting sliced and diced.”

  “Fine.” Nola tightened her grip on her own blade. “Let’s do this.”

  “Don’t you sound fancy?” Raina leapt forward before she finished speaking.

  Nola spun out of the way.

  The hard touch of metal brushed her shoulder before she could face Raina again. Nola sliced in, aiming for Raina’s thigh. Raina grabbed her wrist, smashing the knife from Nola’s grip with the hilt of her blade.

  “You’ve got to do better.” Raina sauntered back to her side of the square.

  Nola shook her hand out, trying to get rid of the tingling Raina’s blow had left behind.

  “Are you sure—” Jeremy began.

  “Do you want me to be nice or do you want your lover alive?” Raina asked.

  Heat flooded Nola’s face. “It’s fine, Jeremy. No killing each other in the sparring room. That’s Emanuel’s rule, right?” The powerful assent Nola had been hoping for didn’t come.

  “I won’t kill you,” Raina laughed, “but those poor people who’ve been assigned to the laundry, they are starting to hate all the blood stains I’ve been making.”

  You can do this, Nola. You are more than just another bloodstained shirt.

  Nola took a step forward.

  “Here kitty, kitty,” Raina cooed.

  Nola dove forward, slashing at Raina’s arm.

  Raina knocked her hand aside, but Nola held onto her blade.

  Nola aimed for Raina’s forearm. Her blade touched Raina’s sleeve before Raina swung her left arm, hitting Nola hard in the elbow.

  Stars danced in Nola’s eyes as she stumbled aside. The glint of Raina’s knife cut through her vision. Nola kicked back, catching Raina hard in the shin.

  “Yes!” Jeremy’s shout carried around the room.

  Raina swiped a kick at Nola’s ankles, knocking her face first onto the ground.

  Nola coughed, dragging air back into her lungs.

  “Better,” Raina said. “You’d still be dead, but I’d be a little less ashamed to have known you.”

  “Thanks.” Nola rolled onto her back. “Ar
e you sure I shouldn’t just practice with the Guard guns. I’m pretty good at those.”

  “We don’t have the ability to manufacture the fancy little darts those guards love so much, so no.” Raina kicked Nola’s toes. “There will be no target practice in this apocalypse, Domer. We can sharpen blades, and, if we get really desperate, we could even make some knives. So let’s stick to things your incompetence won’t waste, shall we?”

  “You don’t have to be mean about it,” Jeremy said, glaring at Raina as he lifted Nola off the floor. “She’s doing really well.”

  “Then let her fight her own battles.” Raina snatched Nola’s knife from the ground. “Like it or not, we can’t always be there to protect the people we care about. Better to make sure they can fight on their own.”

  Jeremy opened his mouth, but Nola covered his lips with her fingers.

  “Leave it,” Nola said. “What’s the point in being a superhero if I can’t take care of myself?”

  Jeremy shook his head and left their square.

  “Superhero?” Raina raised an eyebrow and handed Nola back her knife. “How fancy.”

  “Can we just get to the bit where you cut me again?” Nola asked.

  “How did you know that was my favorite part?” Raina strolled back to her side of the square. “This time I want you to try and get my knife out of my grip. Don’t worry about inflicting damage. Focus on disarming me.”

  “Right.” Nola focused on the blade in Raina’s hand.

  Raina didn’t grip the hilt as Nola clutched hers. She held her blade tenderly, like the knife was a treasure to be cherished. An extension of her arm.

  Nola loosened her grip on her own blade, willing the tension out of her hand.

  “Come on, we don’t have all night,” Raina said.

  Nola lunged, swiping her blade up toward Raina’s stomach. Raina’s palm crashed into Nola’s forearm, knocking Nola’s knife hand aside.

  Nola sliced her other hand up, striking Raina’s wrist from below.

  Raina grabbed the wrist of Nola’s knife hand, twisting her arm, and pinning her blade behind her back. Pain burst from Nola’s shoulder, radiating down her arm.

  “And we have a dead Domer.” Raina tapped her knife on Nola’s jugular.