by J. L. Murray
“Why, to kill Joshua Flynn,” he said. “We have always been truthful about that.”
“Why do you think I would do that?” she said. “Now that you know who I am, now that you know that I love him, what would make me want to kill him?”
“Because, Sia,” whispered Conrad, his breath hot in her ear. “We have your daughter.”
He released her then and for a moment, she felt lost. She was dizzy and the room blurred, her body felt light without Conrad gripping it tight, twirling in a dance.
“Who would like to hear Sia play?” Conrad shouted in a loud, good-natured voice. The crowd cheered and she was ushered to the stage, a violin and bow thrust into her hands. She stared at the objects, feeling so much like the girl who had come into the hospital. The recovering addict Sia. The lost Sia. The eager to please Sia. What had happened to the woman of strength and substance? The one who had tasted her dead mother’s blood, who had taken a vampire to her bed, who had reduced Evelyn Hauser to a shell of a woman?
Conrad had Ana. Sia stared at all the expectant Rev faces. Mathilde wasn’t among them. Her eyes fell on Conrad’s face, his smiling eyes. He nodded at her and she knew she would have to obey. She picked up the violin and began to play.
Twenty-Nine
Mike sat on the bed and watched the snow. It swirled outside the window as though the very storm had a life of its own. He hadn’t heard from the guard in a long while, except the occasional snore. Mike was wide awake, though, the pain making him alert, hyper-aware. He heard the squeal of hinges, loud as a scream in the dead of night. The sloppy sound of very wet shoes walking down the hall.
Splat. Splat. Splat.
Mike rose from the bed, flinching from the pain any movement sent up his arm. His hand throbbed and he wondered if it was infected. It felt heavy, as though he had gained appendages rather than lost them.
The wet shoes grew louder and stopped nearby.
“Mikey?” came a whispered voice.
“Dez?” said Mike. “Is that you?”
Dez Paine’s face in the window at his door sent a wave of dread crashing over him. Dez grinned.
“Why are you still here?” said Mike. “You were supposed to run. You were supposed to survive.”
“We’re both going to survive,” said Dez.
“Get out of here, Dez,” said Mike. “Don’t do this. I can’t run, not like this.” He held up his hand and the smile slid off Dez’s face.
“What did they do to you, Mikey?” he said.
“Cut off my fingers off. And they’ll do worse to you. Now get the hell out of here and save yourself. I’m old, a bitter old man. Just forget about me, kid.”
“Shut up,” said Dez. “I’m going to get you out.”
“And then what?” said Mike. “Joshua Flynn isn’t going to save us, Dez. We can’t outrun the Revs, not for more than a few days. There’s nowhere to run.”
“You haven’t seen what the city’s like,” said Dez. “There’s a revolution, Mike. Because of you. Because of us. We started something, mate. Something that’s going to fix everything.”
“Dez,” said Mike. “I’m not going with you.”
Dez stared at him, a look of confusion on his face.
“I found you, Mike. You can’t just decide to lay down and die. You don’t get to choose. Remember? Survival isn’t all there is.”
“I’m not looking to survive, kid,” said Mike. He held up his bandaged hand. “I’m done. I’ll never type again. I’ll never hold a pen. I'm just a broken old man.
“You’re my friend and I’m going to help you.” said Dez.
“I’m no friend to you, Dez,” said Mike, fighting back the thickness in his throat. “Get out of here, Dez. Please.”
“Bollocks, Mikey.”
Mike closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the bars as he heard Dez slop down to the end of the hall. The longer the kid was here, the more likely he would get caught. Mike had to make him go. It was all over for him, he was old, he might even die from sepsis by morning. But Dez was young, maybe young enough to watch all this blow over. Maybe by the time Dez’s kids were grown, the world would be back to normal. A real life.
“Mikey, what the hell is this place? It smells like rotten meat.”
“I’m pretty sure people they put in these cells aren’t meant to live long, happy lives,” Mike said. He stood up and watched Dez jingle some keys on a large chain. “Where’s the guard?”
“Passed out over there,” said Dez. “Guess they didn’t think you’d escape, huh, Mikey?”
“I guess they didn’t,” said Mike.
Dez tried key after key, cursing when they didn’t turn. Finally, the lock clicked and the door opened slowly, rusty iron squealing against the hinges. Mike stood in the middle of the room and looked at Dez.
“Come on, man, what are you waiting for?” said Dez.
“You have to save her,” said Mike. “There’s no other way.”
“What? Save who?”
“Sia,” said Mike. “He won’t let you live if something happens to her.”
“Who?”
“Flynn, you idiot. Save the girl, Dez. Forget about me. I’m already dead. Save Sia Aoki so you can survive.”
“We’re going to run, Mikey. We’re going to survive together.”
“No,” said Mike. “You have to save her. You know Flynn. That bastard isn’t going to die anytime soon, Dez. He’s like a cockroach, he’d live through anything. You’ll run for the rest of your life, but he’ll always know where you are. He’ll never let you go. Unless you save her.”
“You come with me, then,” said Dez. “You come and help me save her.”
Mike held up his hand. “I think in a building full of Revs, they might just recognize the most wanted man in Philadelphia.”
“In the world, actually,” said Dez. “There was a whole article in the Post about you.”
“Oh?” said Mike. “What’d it say?”
“You don’t want to know, man,” said Dez, smiling.
Mike nodded. “Fair enough.” His hand felt like it weighed twenty pounds. His bare feet were standing on cold cement, but he was sweating. He was sick and he knew it. Another wave of nausea rolled over him and he had to grab his knees to stay upright.
“Jesus, Mikey,” said Dez. “You okay?”
“I’m dying, Dez,” said Mike. Dez helped him over to the bed and Mike laid back onto the thin pillow.
“Shit, you’re burning up. I can get medicine, I saw some…” Mike grabbed Dez’s arm with his good hand and the younger man looked at him. Mike shook his head.
“Just leave it,” said Mike. “If you want to do something good, Desmond, do this one thing. If you save the girl, you can find that girl, Delilah, raise that child with her. Outlive this and come out clean. But you have to save Sia, even if she doesn’t want to be saved.”
Dez put his larger hand over Mike’s. “Mikey, I wanted to save you.”
“I know.”
“I wanted to prove that I was a good man, Mike. I wanted to prove that I could be good like you.”
Mike almost laughed. “I’m not a good man, Dez.”
“You’re the best I ever met.”
“You haven’t known very many then.”
Dez smiled a little, but it only lasted a moment. He stood, staring down at Mike for a long time. Mike concentrated on breathing. It was getting harder and harder. Dez pulled the blanket up over Mike and tucked it under his chin.
“I’m sorry, Mikey.”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” said Mike. “Go find her, Dez. Live. Don’t end up a broken old man like me.”
Mike closed his eyes and pretended not to see Desmond Paine crying. And when he was gone, Mike finally let go, the sobs racking his frail, sickly body, the tears growing cold on his face.
The snow kept falling.
Thirty
Viv slid the silver cart down the hall. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She didn’t know wha
t she would do if the tainted blood didn’t work. It would mean she wouldn’t be able to find Hunter or the other children. She wouldn’t be able to help Sia. She wouldn’t be able to save herself.
Viv listened to the sound of music, growing louder as she went along, accompanied by the echo of her own heels clicking on the tile. She held her breath as she passed a Rev, standing like a statue in the hall, watching her pass with his eyes. He was larger than the other Revs, and wore a long black coat. Security maybe. Viv smiled at him and handed him a bag of blood. Around another corner, and another Rev. Viv’s heart beat hard in her chest as she slid another bag into his clawed hand. She ducked down a darkened hall to her left to catch her breath. There were Revs everywhere. As protection for Conrad, she was sure, but she could breathe less and less with each one. Viv leaned against the wall and forced air into her lungs. She was still lightheaded and she closed her eyes, focusing on Hunter and listening to her heart begin to slow.
After a few moments, though, she realized there was another sound. A muffled squeaking, wet shoes on a tile floor coming from the dark hall. She straightened, pushing away from the wall. Revs didn’t like it when you were nervous, she knew that well enough. She pulled the cart around and started back for the main hall. The squeaking sped up. Viv looked behind her to see a man rounding the corner, looking straight at her. He was big, his tousled hair wet and dripping, his face unshaven. He was wearing a black leather jacket that had seen better days and a Mover jumpsuit, his eyes red-rimmed.
Viv started to run, and then she couldn’t hear anything but her own breath, wheezing in panic, her heart blasting in her chest, the wheels of the cart spinning as she pushed it faster and faster, until someone grabbed her from behind and put a freezing white hand to her mouth just before she reached the main hall, the other holding her arms at her sides. She opened her mouth wide and bit the hand as hard as she could. As the man cursed in a hoarse whisper and pulled away, Viv pulled the box cutter out of her pocket and put it to his neck, waiting for the sound of the Revs in the hall to find them, waiting for them to take her away. The man towered over her. He was young, and was probably handsome before all this. But he just looked tired to her. She realized his teeth were chattering.
“Who the hell are you?” she whispered.
He held up his hands in surrender. She’d broken the skin, the imprint of her teeth oozing bright red on the palm of his hand.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. He had an accent. British. Viv narrowed her eyes. She motioned for him to walk back into the dark hall, away from the Revs. He nodded and she followed him until they were out of earshot.
“You chased me down a deserted hall and put a hand over my mouth,” she said. “What did you think would happen?” She still had the boxcutter, but the man didn’t seem afraid of her.
“I didn’t exactly think it through,” he said, shrugging. “You’re Mikey’s friend, aren’t you?”
“Mike Novak?” Viv said, lowering her voice. She lowered the blade.
The man smiled and rubbed his neck, even though she hadn’t actually touched it. He was so young.
“Yeah,” he said. The smile faded and he looked sad for a moment. “I’m a friend of his.”
“You’re the man from the apartment,” she said. “You were arguing.”
“I was trying to get him to run,” said the man.
“Didn’t turn out so well, did it?” she said.
“Nah,” he said. “It didn’t. I’m Dez.”
“I'm Viv,” she said. “Where is he now?”
He shook his head and looked away. “I couldn’t help him. I tried. They caught him.” He swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at her. “I think he might be dead,” he whispered.
“Oh,” said Viv, something hurting in her chest. “I…Oh.”
“He was still alive when I left him,” he said, sounding far away. “But only just.”
“You just left him there?” she said.
“I didn’t have a choice,” he said. “He wouldn’t come with me. He just kept saying I had to save the girl.”
“Sia,” said Viv.
“Yeah,” said Dez. “He said Joshua Flynn wouldn’t stop if I didn’t save her. I think…” He frowned, looking down at his bleeding hand, rubbing it with his thumb. “I think he was saving me. It was supposed to be the other way round.”
“He’s stubborn like that,” said Viv. “What did they do to him?”
“They…they cut off his fingers. He was so sick, I’ve never seen him so weak.”
“His fingers,” said Viv. “So his wounds became infected. How bad?”
“I don’t know,” he said, his eyes suddenly wet. “He had these bandages on his hand. He couldn’t stand up straight, and he was throwing up. I could smell it in his room. He was in this cell. Past where Sia used to be.”
Viv raised an eyebrow. “So you’re one of the visitors she was talking about.”
“Yeah,” said Dez. He looked at her and she could see the hurt in his eyes. Mike had meant something to him. It hadn’t been easy to leave him. “I put him to bed,” he said. “Mike, I mean. I put the blanket over him. I don’t know if he was asleep or dead. I should have checked.” He rubbed his face with his hands, leaving a smear of blood on his cheek. “I should have goddamn checked.” Viv studied him. She slid the blade back down on the box cutter and put it in her pocket and put a hand on his arm.
“You did the best you could,” she said. He nodded and wiped his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“They’ll kill you if you go in there,” she said. “Actually, they’ll just arrest you.”
“That’s worse,” he said. “Shit, this was a mistake.”
“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “If I get her out of there, can you get her to safety?”
“How are you—”
“Don’t worry about how,” she said. “Can you get her to safety?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I have a van.”
“Good,” said Viv. “Wait out here and I’ll bring her to you. One hour. Understood?”
“In the hall? What if someone sees me?”
“I suggest you hide,” said Viv. “You get Sia out, and I’ll go try to help Mike.” She sighed at Dez’s expression. “I used to be a doctor. Before.”
“You can save him?” he said.
“I can try,” she said. “If he’s still alive.”
“And if they find me before you get Sia out?” he said. “I don’t even have a weapon.”
Viv handed him the boxcutter, shrugging.
“What good is this going to do against the Revs?” he said.
“Not much,” said Viv. “But it’s all I have. And I’m walking into their wasp nest.”
“Why are you doing this?” he said. “Why are you trying to help her? Did Joshua Flynn get his claws in you too?”
“No,” said Viv. “Never met him.”
“Then why?”
Viv frowned and thought of her dreams, Sia’s eyes watching her, Sia’s hands touching her face. She thought of Hunter and Griff and the blankness in her mind when she thought of the Blackout. And she thought of Mike, her only true friend through all of this. She had to save Hunter, if he was here. If he was alive. But Sia? “If I can save anyone, I have to do it.” said Viv.
“Good reason. Is that some kind of doctor thing?”
“There are no doctors,” said Viv. “Not anymore. We’re all just trying to save ourselves. What’s left of us.”
He looked at the bags of blood piled onto the cart. “What’s in those?”
“Enough tainted blood to kill every last one of those bottom feeding leeches.”
Dez was looking at her with a strange admiration.
“I know why Mikey fancies you so much. You’re some kind of fierce bitch.”
Viv frowned.
“It’s a compliment,” said Dez.
“I’ll take your word for it,” said Viv. “One hour.”
She turned and pushed the cart into the main hall, making her mouth smile. She nodded at another Rev as she passed him. They were everywhere now and she was passing out the tainted blood like candy. She walked into the middle of a knot of monsters clogging the hall outside V-block. She gave them all blood.
They even held the door open for her.
It was like walking into the past. Men and women in fancy dress clothes under warm lights that were sputtering, dimming and then growing brighter again. Gas lamps, Viv realized. She felt out of place, underdressed for a moment, until she looked at the dancers. Revenants in elaborate masks covering their eyes and flattened noses. Some even wore wigs or headdresses to cover their hairless heads. They might have looked human, if not for the teeth, every lower jaw either slack or nonexistent, the six-inch teeth protruding in an oddly helpless way. Viv had a sudden pang of pity for them. They wanted what they could never have. To be human.
The Revs found themselves drawn unconsciously closer to the stage as the music rose in intensity. It was something gorgeous that pulled at Viv in ways that she’d forgotten music could do. She hadn’t heard so much as a whistle in so long, that she’d almost forgotten how much she loved music. The Revs seemed to be in a stupor as they gravitated slowly toward the stage, toward the music.
She looked to the stage and saw a single player, violin tucked under her chin, a tiny, beautiful little thing in a white silk shift dress. Her fingers moved like someone possessed, the bow moving smoothly and quickly over the strings in a way that made it seem as though it had a life of its own. Viv stared for a moment, shocked that such sounds could come from such a small instrument. The player was wearing a white beaked mask, her black hair coiffed elegantly around her head, tendrils shaking free as she played. Her exposed neck and collarbone and shoulders were covered in a sheen of sweat. Viv squinted.
“Sia?” she said softly. She was so changed that Viv wouldn’t have recognized her. There were no lesion scars on her, she looked more than healthy. Her lips had been tinted a dark red color and, even from across the room, Viv felt that Sia’s eyes were on her, probing her, making her feel as though only the two of them were in the room, instead of the dozens of Revs.