“There’s no way in hell I’m touching a hair on your head.” He says. “You’re a legend, bro.”
Okay, now I’m confused. “A legend?”
“We love you, man.” He continues. “You’ve become a symbol to our casue. I can’t believe you don’t know any of this.” He shakes his head again, disbelief written plainly on his features.
“I’m sorry…what?”
He leans in and whispers, “You’re the Sun-Child who would rather become a traitor to his people than interfere in human lives when you knew it was wrong.”
“A traitor?” I say, almost choking on my food.
Shane nods, a shadow of doubt passing over his eyes. “Aren’t you?”
I open my mouth to say that I’m not a traitor, that I was forced out, but then I take a deep breath and decide this isn’t the time nor the person to talk about this.
I look away. “How do you guys even know about me?”
“Word spread, I guess.” He shrugs, but his attitude has changed. He leans back a little, studying me from a distance. “Everybody knows about it. And it’s unprecedented…nobody of either of our kind has ever run away.”
I snort. Like I had a choice.
“Listen, I won’t bother you anymore.” He says suddenly, standing up and rolling up his napkin into a ball before making a perfect shot into the waste-basket nearby. “I just want to ask you one thing before I go.”
“Yes?” I say, looking at my watch and standing up as well.
“Have you heard anything new about the fire eaters in Billings?” He says casually, but he might have been speaking to me in French for all I understood.
“Er…what?”
His eyes widen in surprise for the second time this day. “Oh my god, Daniel.”
“What is it?” I snap.
He sits down again. “You need to hear this.” His eyes grow darker and he sighs heavily. I tense. Whatever this is, it’s not good.
“Your kind is evolving.” He says.
My heart stops. “What do you mean?” I breathe deeply and try to get a hold of myself. A shiver runs down my spine as I remember the Prophetess’s words: A great evolution is coming for our kind…an Age of Light will dawn, and there will be peace under our reign. Then our true selves will come alive.
“They have started to breed between themselves.” Shane says.
I let out a breath, relieved. I even laugh out loud. “No. That’s impossible. We’re infertile. There is no chance that can ever happen.”
“You were infertile.” Shane says. “Not anymore.”
“Are you taking me for a fool?” I say, but he sounds serious. Dead serious.
Shane shakes his head. “This isn’t a joke.” he says, voice low. “The Children of the Sun are having nasty little creatures that are even worse than them. No offense.” He adds with a side glance.
I ignore him, trying to process the information. Does this mean that I am fertile now? Does this mean… that Kismet is, too? But I kill that thought as soon as it surfaces. It doesn’t matter what Kismet is or isn’t. Not anymore.
He sighs. “Fire eaters can’t heal others, at least not that we know of. And their eyes don’t glow. But boy can they kill. And they’re always hungry.” He says, voice grim. “If they spend so much as a few days without feeding, they die of starvation.”
“Stop right there,” I say, logic coming to my aid. “I only left six months ago,” I say. “How can you be talking about fully-formed creatures?”
“Two months gestation until labor.” He explains, his voice factual, scientific. “They immediately start growing at an accelerated speed once they’re born. It doesn’t take long until they start killing humans, their natural prey.” He says, staring hard into my eyes. “It’s an abomination.”
I don’t believe this. “Honestly, Shane?” I say, raising an eyebrow. “It sounds like you’re feeding me a hot steaming pile of bullshit.”
He laughs under his breath. “Whatever, man,” he says. “I don’t need you to believe me, I just thought you should know.” He makes to get up, but I hold out a hand.
“These…fire eaters,” I say, humoring him until I decide what to believe. “How do they kill?”
Shane twitches, and I recognize that I touched a soft spot.
“They’re cannibals.” He finally says, sitting back down. “The first thing they do is rip out their victims hearts while they’re still alive, and devour it whole. Then they eat the other organs; the stomach, liver, kidneys. They leave the brain for last, as dessert.”
I hold up a hand, feeling nauseous. “I don’t need to know more.”
He looks at me gravely. “I wish I were feeding you a pile of bullshit.” He says. “But I’m not. The only good thing about this situation is that we can track the fire-eaters down fairly easily. Their killings hardly ever go unnoticed.”
“I would imagine not.”
“We’re trying to kill them all before the humans find out the cause of these gruesome murders and freak the fuck out.”
“They’d probably think it was some sort of zombie apocalypse.” I say, almost to myself.
Shane raises an eyebrow at me. “It would make for some interesting headlines.”
“Yeah.” I say, grinning at the dark humor in it, despite everything. “Do you know how my tribe feels about this?” I prod, hoping to get as much information as I can.
Shane laughs darkly.
“What?” I ask, getting nervous.
“It’s your leader, Rafael.”
I clench my hands. “What about him?” And how do you know my leader’s name?
“He’s gotten it into people’s minds that their newly acquired fertility is some sort of prophecy come true.” He says, looking disgusted. “He wants to use the fire eaters as weapons against us.”
I unclench my hands and burrow my face in them. “Of course he is.” This goes exactly along with the Prophetess’s plan to rule over humans. Damn that bastard to hell. “World domination, is it?” I rub my face furiously with my hands. I almost don’t believe this is happening.
Almost.
But the fact of the matter is, the Prophetess did foresee some sort of evolution six months ago. And if Rafael tells them our newly acquired fertility is the evolution the Prophetess predicted, then The Children of the Sun will believe what he wants them to believe. They have no choice.
“It’s not really working in his favor, though.” Shane says, interrupting my thoughts. “The fire eaters are too wild and mindless to control. They escape as soon as they’re strong enough to live on their own. And they don’t even bother to hide the mutilated carcasses of their victims after they feed. They leave that to us.”
“You’re here to kill fire eaters.” I say, connecting the pieces of the puzzle in my head.
He smiles. “That’s right.”
I just stare at him. Is this guy for real?
“Not only that,” Shane continues, levelling with me, “but the Immortals are also searching for traits of immunity far and wide to draft as many warriors as we can.”
By drafting he must mean recruiting, and the only people they recruit are the ones who are immune to our powers. The only ones able to fight us. I suddenly remember how easy of a prey I am to him, and shift the tiniest of inches away.
“And you were assigned to Rickshaw.” I say.
“I chose to come here.” He says, “As a leader, I have that choice.” He flashes me a smile, cool and smooth. “Funny thing, our seers didn’t see you here.” He says, “They’re usually so sharp.” I run a hand over my hair. His smile grows wider, and he looks at me, and I could swear he knew I was hiding something.
Suddenly, I have an idea. It’s so preposterous that I hesitate for a few moments before saying it out loud. “Shane…” I sit up straight. “I want in.”
“Ah, what?” He stutters, his composure shattering. “What do you mean, in?”
I breathe in deeply. If I wasn’t a traitor before, I sure as hell am o
ne now. “On your mission.”
He blinks. “You want to help me draft?”
“…and kill fire eaters.” I say. “That is your mission, no?”
“You know nothing about how to draft.”
I scoff. “I’ve recruited plenty of my own people.”
“Yeah, you’ve kidnapped a bunch of kids.” He says, rolling his eyes. “This is different.”
I raise an eyebrow. I don’t like it that he’s familiar with our methods and leaders and I’m not familiar with his. “Different, how?”
“Just different.” He says, without offering any more explanation.
I suppress a sigh of frustration. He doesn’t trust me, the same way I don’t trust him. But I have to find a way to get through to him. Rafael is planning on mass murdering God knows how much of humanity, and even if this doesn’t directly concern me, I can’t possibly stand idly by and watch this madness consume my people.
Also…the possibility of some action—some fighting, even—after six months of suicidal boredom, is too much to pass up.
“Shane, nobody hates Rafael more than me.” I say, levelling with him.
He leans in towards me. “And why would that be?” His voice is calm, but I can see the hunger, the curiosity in his eyes. I hesitate. This is a virtual stranger, and an Immortal to boot. He should be my mortal enemy. We should be fighting to the death right now.
Yet we aren’t.
So I follow my gut and tell him the truth.
“Do you know how my power works?” I ask, lowering my voice.
Shane’s eyes flicker around, making sure no one is listening. “You heal someone.” He says simply, also in a low voice. “And then you kill someone after.”
I nod, deciding not to get into the moral issue that divides our two species. “Except not always…apparently.”
Shane frowns.
“I healed someone six months ago,” I say, leaning in even closer. “And then I healed another person.”
“Without having to kill someone after?”
My mood dampens even more as I recall what happened that night. “After I healed for the second time in a row, I lost control.”
Shane raises an eyebrow. “Are you normally in control?”
I stare hard at him. “Yes.” I say. “Always.”
Suddenly, I remember what Benedict said the last time I ever saw him. “What happened last night was a mistake.” He said. “I wasn’t planning on ever killing again.”
I hadn’t understood what he was saying, chalking it up to temporary madness, that can happen to the best of us. But now I know.
He was the first.
We sit silently next to each other for a few moments. Shane looks at the people in the park and I can tell he’s deep in concentration. Joggers, sunbathers, kids playing on the monkey bars. All of them seem content in their own safe little world. Witnessing their happiness suddenly dampens mine.
They don’t know what it feels like to kill. They don’t know what it’s like to run for your life, fear coursing through your veins like fire as cold, nervous sweat drips from your skin, soaking you through. They don’t know what it’s like to fight off an enemy who is hell-bent on destroying you, or how to throw a knife or slit a throat or stab someone dead without any mercy at all.
“You told me you healed twice in a row before having to kill.” Shane says, snapping out of his deep concentration. “So do you think you have the power kill without having to heal someone else first?”
“I’ve honestly never thought about it before.” My evolving powers are the reason I had to run away from my people in the first place. They’re the reason I lost Kismet. Thinking about them or having anything to do with them is the last thing I want.
“Daniel, this is serious.” Shane says, his voice hard. “Things are changing. There’s a possibility that the rest of your kind has changed, too.”
“I know,” I say, sighing.
“Then you understand what this means.”
I nod. “It means that we become more dangerous to humans because nothing would stop us from killing anyone we want.”
Also, I know Rafael well enough to deduce that he would have killed anyone who evolved before him, but after his own powers evolved, and he’s officially recognized as the first by the tribe according to the Prophecy, he would have no qualms to use these new powers to his own advantage.
“Exactly,” Shane says, and then looks away.
“I could try and feed,” I say.
Shane instantly leans a little into me. “Could you?”
I recoil. “But I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
I stop and stare at him. “Are you kidding me?” I say. He crosses his arms. “You’re Shane, an Immortal. You’re supposed to be against me killing anyone.”
“This would be an experiment done in the service of gathering information.” He says. “A one-off, if you may.”
I scoff. “You’re a utilitarian.”
“You would know.” He snaps back.
I narrow my eyes at him.
“Daniel, you have to do this.” Shane says, standing up to face me. “We need to know if it’s possible.”
I look at him, torn between my convictions of not ever killing again and the practical necessity to know whether this is a possibility or not. I’ve healed twice in a row before, and I guess we’re fertile now. How much do we really know about ourselves?
“Okay.” I finally concede. I could tell myself I was doing this in service of helping humanity from Rafael’s tyrannical plans somehow, even if it all backfires on me in the end.
But really, it’s because I have to know.
And killing again… that would be heaven.
“I know how hard this is for you,” Shane says. “So…thanks.” He gives me a small smile, which I meekly return. He leaves, and I lean back into the bench to glare up at the big sun. Letting the rays soak through me little by little.
The Experiment
Shane chooses Saturday to perform our experiment. He spends the entire week either searching the town for possible Immortals or nagging me at work. After a few days, I reluctantly admitted to myself that I kind of liked having him around.
I spent all my teenage years with either Kismet by my side or hanging out with Benedict, and I’d forgotten how used to having constant company I was, and how much I missed it. Maybe it’s the same for Shane. That would explain why he hangs out with me so much.
Days pass by quickly, and before I know it, Saturday arrives. I wake with the first glimmers of dawn on the horizon. I take a deep breath, rub my eyes and get up from the bed, and then go to the bathroom to take a quick shower before getting dressed. I think about eating something, but decide against it. I feel like throwing up at the the mere thought of what’s to come.
Five minutes later, there’s a knock on my door.
“Jeez, man.” Shane says when I open the door. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
“Fuck this, Shane.” I say, voice breaking. “I’m not going to do it.” I walk back into the room and sit down on my mattress. Shane walks in and closes the door behind him.
“You can’t back out now.” He says.
“The hell I can.”
Shane runs his hands over his hair, sighs, and then sits down next to me. We say nothing for a while. I sit with my elbows on my knees and fingertips together in front of my face, and Shane lies down on the mattress, his arms and ankles crossed. After about fifteen minutes, I clear my throat, and ask, “You’re sure you’ve got this under control?”
“I should be asking you the same question, only that in your case the answer is obviously ‘no’.” He says, sitting up. “But yeah, I do.” He looks at me, his face grave. “You can trust me.”
I take a deep breath. “Then let’s go.”
We walk out the flat, and I lock the door behind me. Shane walks over to a gigantic black truck parked on the curb of the sidewalk and gets in the driver’s seat, and I
follow him after another, briefer, moment of hesitation.
“I should’ve known you were a truck guy.” I mumble under my breath as I get on the passenger’s seat and put on my seatbealt, but he pretends not to hear me. He turns on the ignition, and the truck rumbles to life.
“Easy, girl.” He says, patting the dashboard.
I snort, amused despite myself. A moment later I feel like throwing up again. “This doesn’t feel right.”
Shane doesn’t speak until we reach the highway.
“This is hard for me too,” He finally says, “Immortals are not supposed to do this. It goes against everything we believe in. But we have to find out, Daniel. We’ve got to know.”
I look at the battered, faded yellow sign with the words ‘Welcome to Rickshaw’ written in red passing us by as we leave town. Shane is staring at the road head on, his face a cool mask of tranquility, but his fingers are digging into the steering wheel, knuckles turning white.
“How long is the drive to Montana?”
“About six hours.” He says. “The execution at the prison is at 2pm, so we’ve got time.”
I look at the clock on the dashboard of the car. 6:16am.
“I know what could cheer you up.” He says. “Do you want to play some road trip games?”
I look at him. “I’m not even going to dignify your question with an answer.”
He smiles. “You just did, though.”
I give him the finger.
“How did you even hear about this, anyway?” I ask him after a while, sinking back into my seat. “Do the Immortals keep track of all executions in the United States?”
“Of course not,” He says. “I just looked it up in the news. Montana has been pro-death penalty since 1974. There was bound to be some execution sooner or later. And I thought it would be the easiest way to test out our theory.”
“This isn’t right.” I murmur.
“You said that already.” He says, teeth slightly clenched, the first signs of tension cracking through his wall of cool and calm collectedness.
“Honestly, though.” I say. “This is wrong.”
“All right, that’s it.” Shane pushes down on the brakes violently. My body launches itself forward, the seatbelt holding me back until we come to a complete stop. He pulls over to the shoulder of the highway. There are no cars around us, only golden wheatfields for miles on end whichever way you look.
The Sun Child (The Sun Child Saga Book 1) Page 13