Night: Final Awakening Book Three (A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller)
Page 17
Ambrose and Dax walked farther down the road, chatting almost like father and son. Bronwyn had played coy when Ambrose had requested he get the first words in with the man. Ambrose believed that he had first rights because his lieutenant had found them all. Bronwyn had only acquiesced because she knew that, in the end, Ambrose would be no match for her. And even if the human, for whatever reason, chose to listen to him, she would be victorious in the end. It was her destiny.
But a woman had a limit to her patience. And Ambrose was reaching it.
Bronwyn went to the rear of the barn. Three of Ambrose’s minor lieutenants stood guard. Before they could react, Bronwyn waved her hand. All three fell into a trance that only she could end. Killing them would have alerted Ambrose to her movements, and she didn’t want to tip her hand to him yet.
The back door had been padlocked. Waving her hand again, Bronwyn snapped the lock. She then snapped her fingers, and the door opened. She strutted into the barn where four more of Ambrose’s vampires stood guard. Again, Bronwyn simply waved her hand, and they fell.
The humans tried to hide their gasps and cries, but she could feel their energy, their fear. It sent a rush of heat through her body, and she closed her eyes so she could focus on their despair. The emotions. The pain. The emptiness.
She opened the stall with a nod of her head and then strolled over to it.
Five kids huddled in the far corner of the stall. Bronwyn masked the glow in her eyes.
“Have you come to let us out?” the oldest in the group—a teenage girl—asked.
“That depends,” Bronwyn said. “Are you on the good or the bad side?”
“We’re on the good side,” a young boy said.
“And how do you know which is the good side?”
“We’re with Dax,” the oldest girl said. “He’s going to kill all these things.”
Bronwyn raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
The girl nodded.
“So how does killing people put him on ‘the good side’?”
“Those aren’t people,” another one of the children—a boy—said. “They’re Screamers.”
“They were people once. And now they’re better than people. Like superheroes.”
Bronwyn smiled as she watched their eyes. Despite being children, they had an intuition—they did not believe her, so she decided to give up the ruse and ignite the glow in her own eyes.
“Stay away from us,” the girl said. “Don’t hurt us.”
“Hurt you?” Bronwyn laughed. “I would do no such thing.”
“Then what do you want?”
The glow in Bronwyn’s eyes flashed like a light on top of a police car, bathing the entire barn in a blood red hue.
“This,” she said.
The kids screamed, but Bronwyn muted their cries.
Not even the other Masters would hear them.
46
Isaac turned his back to his Master and to Dax. He didn’t look back.
He was a lieutenant now. A leader. Isaac had found their most sought after asset—an acquisition that would secure him a permanent spot at Ambrose’s side as he destroyed the other Masters and then ruled the world. Dax didn’t matter anymore.
Isaac looked at the armies in the field. Only Ambrose could achieve such a feat of cunning manipulation and double-crossings. Nothing would stop him now, not with the human weapon in his possession.
Two of the Masters stood at the front of the army. They didn’t look at Isaac as he passed by. He walked the perimeter of the property as Ambrose had commanded, though. It had only been a task to get him away—he knew that. But he would do as his Master asked, regardless.
Isaac walked around to the rear of the barn. The three guards he’d stationed there lay on the ground, motionless. The door stood ajar. He didn’t understand how that could be. Dax was with Ambrose, and only the children had been inside the barn. Isaac walked inside, ready to fight.
In the center of the barn lay more Screamers—all four that he’d left to guard the kids. He turned the corner and stood before the open stall. A woman sat there with all five kids cuddling in her lap. She was rocking back and forth, humming to them.
The children’s eyes glowed.
“What’s going on?” Isaac asked.
The woman raised her head and smiled. Her bright eyes matched the intensity of her auburn hair. Isaac paused, his words muted by her penetrating gaze.
“You must be Isaac. The lieutenant Ambrose sent to look for the human.”
She spoke with a European accent. Isaac thought back to the Masters outside—only two of them had been there.
“You’re Bronwyn.”
“The one and only.”
“What have you done?”
She stroked Monica’s hair. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Do you know who those children are? They’re Dax’s nieces, nephew, and kids he was trying to find. To save.”
“And?”
Ambrose, come to the barn right now, Isaac said telepathically to his Master. Bronwyn has—
What? Bronwyn entered Isaac’s mind. I’ve done what. Please, continue.
She has turned the children.
Tattletale. He cannot hear you. I’ve blocked all communication to and from this barn.
Isaac’s glowing eyes grew wide. He had to get to Ambrose. Now.
He’d bolted toward the back door when thick, silver chains dropped from the rafters and swung in the threshold. Isaac reached out before he realized what was happening, and the silver links burned his flesh. He tried to dodge them, but the chains animated, coming to life like tentacles and wrapping around his body. He screamed as the silver chains tightened around him, burning through his clothes, tattooing his skin.
Bronwyn strutted across the barn. She clicked her tongue as she stood before him.
“You should not have gotten in my way.”
“You can’t destroy a Master’s right hand,” Isaac said. “It’s forbidden.”
Bronwyn laughed. “Forbidden? By whom? I should invite Jing in here to kill you. Do you not remember what Ambrose’s former right hand did to Jing’s? No honor among thieves, and all those clichés. Besides, I’m not planning on destroying a vampire.”
Her eyes illuminated the entire barn. As the silver bit deeper into Isaac’s flesh, a sharp, mental dagger entered his head. It throbbed as he remembered thoughts from his former life.
At first, he thought of his mother and how she had died during Hurricane Katrina.
But then other memories resurfaced.
The power going out.
The daycare center.
All the kids. The old people who had joined them.
Chloe. Her beautiful curls, and big brown eyes.
Dax. He’d known Dax before?
His entrapment by Serafino.
Being turned.
Killing.
Chloe?
“Ah, you remember now, don’t you?”
“I killed her?” he asked.
“You were once friends with Dax, but you betrayed him and killed the one you loved.”
Isaac began to cry, and only then did he notice that the silver no longer burned his skin. The chains loosened, and Isaac dropped to his knees. Pain shot through his legs.
That wasn’t normal for a vampire.
And when he looked up at Bronwyn, he saw his own reflection in her glowing eyes.
The glow in his was gone.
“That’s better. Now we can get on with this,” Bronwyn said.
“With what?”
“I told you I wasn’t going to kill a vampire. I never said anything about a human.”
She raised her hand, and Isaac flew back against the wall. He couldn’t breathe. Bronwyn then raised her other hand, and an object came off the wall and flew toward him, aimed at his throat.
A pitchfork.
“In case you think you will be seeing Chloe or your mother again, know that there is no afterlife. Only darkness.”
Isaac closed his eyes, but he spoke two words as he drew his final breath.
“I’m sorry.”
47
Ambrose smiled as he walked back to the barn with Dax.
He had done it.
He had cloaked his movement but had he fooled them outright? Probably not. But he’d bought himself enough time and space to capture the human and turn him into a weapon that would bring the final death to Bronwyn, Jing, and Jaraca.
Dax had agreed to serve him if the children and the Casket Girls would not be harmed, and as long as Dax would have a chance to say goodbye before Ambrose turned him. That wasn’t a problem for Ambrose; there was time. He had to first use Dax to eliminate the other Masters. Then, once he had turned Dax, he could simply wipe his mind of any memories of the children and the women, and then enjoy watching Dax kill them.
Jing and Jaraca had made their way up to the barn, where they were standing next to the two Casket Girls and the soldiers Ambrose had left there to guard them. The third Casket Girl had yet to regain consciousness. As he looked around, though, he noticed that one of the Masters was mysteriously absent.
“Where is Bronwyn?”
“Around,” Jing said.
“What does that mean?”
“She went to get a cigarette.”
Ambrose smirked. He ordered one of his guards to go find her.
“And where is Isaac?” Using his telepathic power, Ambrose signaled his lieutenant.
Isaac, I need you back in front of the barn.
No response.
Isaac!
He tried to locate Isaac, but he couldn’t find him. Their bond had been broken.
A shiver crept up Ambrose’s neck.
The barn’s double doors opened then, and out walked Bronwyn with a swagger in her walk. A smile spread across her face as she winked at Ambrose.
“I see you two are done talking.”
Ambrose was about to reply when he noticed a body pinned against the barn wall with a pitchfork.
Isaac’s body.
“You bitch. I just got him trained.”
Bronwyn waved at him and smirked. “Oh, please. Don’t pretend you’re a rule-following diplomat. Especially after what happened to Seyana. Right, Jing?”
The Master of the Asian faction nodded. “You got what you deserved,” he said to Ambrose.
“We had a deal,” Ambrose said to Bronwyn, trying to keep his words low.
Jing and Jaraca stepped forward, the South American Master folding her arms across her chest.
“What?” Jaraca asked Bronwyn. “You promised us…”
“Yes, but it seems I played you all, am I right?”
Ambrose gritted his teeth. “I don’t really care, my dear. You’re too late. The human has chosen to serve me instead of facing death if I kept his little children alive. He is mine now. All mine.”
Bronwyn raised an eyebrow. She whistled and then spun around.
Five sets of glowing eyes lit the shadows of the stall, and the children that had been held captive by Ambrose walked out of the barn and stood next to Bronwyn.
“I went ahead and turned them,” Bronwyn said to Ambrose, whose mouth hung open in a silent O. “Seeing as you had Dax in your service.”
“No!” Dax screamed. He started toward them, but three of Bronwyn’s Screamers restrained him. Another two grabbed the two Casket Girls by the arms.
“Put them all back in the barn, including the half-dead girl. I might want to play with her later. Well, Ambrose. Now what?”
Jing and Jaraca stood next to each other, turning and twisting their heads around as the armies began to move. As if sensing the inevitable, the vampire soldiers in the fields had started to clump together by faction.
Dax kicked and screamed as they dragged him into the barn, right past the kids who didn’t even look at him. They threw Dax into the barn while Alex and Zoe carried Saw inside. The soldiers then slammed the door shut behind them.
“Did you really think you could use the human to destroy our lairs? Was that your ‘grand’ plan?” Bronwyn asked.
The deceitful bitch had outsmarted him yet again. He had underestimated her guile, and now he would have to resort to the only option he thought he had left. Ambrose never considered turning the kids back and re-aligning with Dax and that was why Bronwyn would ultimately triumph.
“We have our own factions for a reason,” Ambrose said. “I think we all knew it would come to this.”
“What?” Jaraca asked.
“War,” Ambrose said. “It’s the only way.”
“The last Master standing gets the human. And rules the world,” Jing said.
Bronwyn grinned as if she had already defeated the armies of the other three Masters.
“So be it,” said Ambrose.
48
The vampire shoved Dax into the stall like he was cattle and Dax dropped to his knees. His shoulders fell, and his chin touched his chest. He openly wept now, no longer feeling the need to project strength.
When he closed his eyes, he couldn’t help but see their faces lit by the glow of the evil in their eyes.
Anthony.
Kim.
Kanesha
Darius.
Monica.
Kevin.
He’d failed them all. It didn’t matter what happened to him now. Everything was lost. He was lost.
“Dax?”
He ignored her.
“Dax, I’m so sorry,” Alex said, placing a hand on his shoulder. When he didn’t respond, she added, “We can make sure they didn’t die in vain. We can still fi—”
“What?” Dax said. “We can what? Fight?” He snorted. “I don’t think so.”
“Dax.”
He ignored Alex and went to the corner, where he sat alone.
Ten minutes passed, and things outside got eerily quiet. Dax was staring at his hands when Zoe spoke.
“Saw!”
The fallen Casket Girl moaned, and she put an arm over her face as if she was trying to fend off the sun after a wild night of drinking. Zoe and Alex rushed to her side. Dax sat up and was about to check on Saw when a force blew through his mind like a massive sandstorm. He rocked back, clutched his head, and passed out.
Dax awoke with his body aching—muscles and joints stiff as if he hadn’t moved in years. He sat up and looked around, the room feeling as though it was bobbing up and down. One window opened to a view of the ocean, and the one on the other side of the bed gave him a view of a dock, and beyond that—New Orleans as it had been before the Blackout.
I’m on a boat.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. Not only was he on a boat, but he was on the boat that he’d shared with Papa Midnight, Kevin, and Monica before the two children had been abducted by Serafino’s—and ultimately, Ambrose’s—Screamers.
Dax stepped out of the room and found himself standing on the top deck.
“Well, hello there.”
Papa Midnight stood near the railing of the main deck, dressed in a white suit and with his arms crossed over his cane.
Dax stepped down the ladder, and the old man smiled as he approached.
“Why did you bring me here?”
“That’s how you greet me now?”
“The children are dead, Papa. How do you expect me to act?”
“I know, son,” the voodoo priest said, bowing his head. “I needed to bring you here to remind you of what happened on this boat.”
Dax glanced to the building on the other side of the dock. The restaurant stood undamaged, as was the rest of the city in this vision.
“You need to remind me about Monica and Kevin being taken from here?”
“I need you to remember what happened after,” Papa Midnight said. “How you felt. The anger that was inside of you. All the training we did.”
“What does any of that matter n
ow? The children are gone.”
“Do you not remember your true purpose, Jackson? Was it only to save the children? You have been burdened with much more than that.”
Dax sighed and stared off at the ocean, allowing the silence between them to blossom.
“You can still end this,” Papa said.
“How?” Dax said, throwing up his arms and raising his voice. “The last time I saw you, you were telling me that I couldn’t defeat them. What the fuck?”
“The alliance the Masters formed has fallen apart. They betrayed each other because they seek power only for themselves. It is in their nature to be selfish and destructive. And the power that they seek? That power is you.”
“What am I supposed to do? Just because they aren’t working together doesn’t mean there aren’t four of them.”
“Remember the desperation you felt when the children were taken from this boat. The determination that was in you to fight. Remember all that I taught you. Harness the anger. The thing that separates you from them is your beating heart. Your emotions. Use that to your advantage. You can defeat them.”
“But what about the ‘Angel’ you spoke of? I still haven’t seen it, or him, or her, or whatever.”
“The Angel is already with you. You have seen it.”
“What does that mean?”
“Embrace your anger and turn it into light. You will win this fight.”
“Hold on. I need to know—”
Papa Midnight’s body wavered and then transformed into ash. The wind swept his remains into the air and dropped them upon Dax like light snow.
When Dax opened his eyes again, he was still in the corner of the stall. A cold sweat had drenched his shirt and forced a shiver.
“He’s awake,” one of the girls said.
Alex approached him.
“How long was I out?”
“About ten minutes. Here, I found a half-empty bottle of water. Have some.”
Dax waved his hands. “No, you guys go ahead and—”
Alex pressed the bottle against Dax’s lips. “Drink.”
This time, he didn’t refuse. Although he wanted the girls to have it for themselves, his tongue felt like sandpaper, so he took a sip. He grimaced and swallowed, almost spitting the water out. Dax tasted a distinct bitterness.