Dawn of the Vie (Immortal Aliens Book 1)

by Laura Diamond

  I hit the ground.

  Zack knelt next to me, his fingers digging into my shoulders. “Justin! Come on, man, stay awake.”

  “Give me… a minute.” Was this it? The toxin finally doing me in?

  “Here.” Zack drew a water pellet from his pocket and held it to my mouth. “Take it.”

  “It’s yours.” I turned my head.

  “You’re stubborn.” He plastered his palm across my face so I couldn’t refuse. His skin smelled like gasoline; not something many Anemies came by. I’d be more curious if I didn’t feel half—or three-quarters—dead.

  I sucked on the pellet.

  “There. Not so bad, right?”

  I closed my eyes and let the thing slowly dissolve. It didn’t fully quench the thirst searing my throat, but it helped. The rapid pounding of my heart lessened, as did the vice-like headache. Soon, I could breathe without gasping.

  A bit of relief.

  “You’re looking better already,” he said.

  I squinted at the bright blue sky. Black spots polka-dotted the clouds, wobbling and writhing. I needed to hear him talk. To remind me what was real. “Tell me about the raid you survived.”

  He licked his lips. “It happened about a year ago. I’d found this sweet place on Seventy-Third. The windows were intact, the front door was made of reinforced steel, even the water was still on. Other kids there said the NCAAR watched over it.”

  The place sounded too perfect. Alarm bells rang in my mind. Oddly, it helped me focus.

  “I found a spot along the far wall, within two steps of the rear door.”

  The kid had thought about an escape route. Smart.

  “They raided close to dawn.”

  The time when night loosened its grip. When you thought you were close to reaching safety for another day. I shifted my gaze to him. His expression was dark, his eyes distant.

  “They busted through the steel door like it was sawdust. A wall of them rushed in, grabbing kids and snapping necks so fast their bodies blurred.” Fat tears gathered in his eyes as his cheeks reddened. His fingers curled into fists.

  “How’d you get out?” My entire body tingled, either from the toxin, or rage, or both. Damn every single Vie who landed on this planet.

  “I pushed a kid out of the way.” Zack’s voice hitched.

  “We all have to fight—” We all have to sacrifice one another to live. Altruism ends in one thing: death.

  It didn’t ease the guilt. David’s soft cry whispered to me from the past.

  He pointed to his chest. “I got someone else hurt.”

  “The Vie raid wasn’t your fault. They’d have killed you too.” I swallowed down the memory of little David’s body crumpling to the ground. Was I saying it for Zack…or me?

  His foot tapped the sidewalk rapidly. “More waited outside. While kids pushed and shoved one another to get out of the building and into the alley, Vie picked them all off.”

  “But you made it.”

  “I ducked under everybody and crawled to a Dumpster. The lid was open, so I jumped in.”

  Whether hiding or not, Vie could hear our heartbeats. “They didn’t look for you?”

  “After most of the kids were dead, one of ‘em said, ‘grab the rest. The sun’s coming up.’ They left me.”

  Grab the rest. Like they did last night.

  He wiped his eyes with his torn, stained sleeve. “I didn’t have the nerve to even peek out of the Dumpster until midday. That’s when Martin found me. He took me in. I bet he’ll do the same for you, especially after he hears your story.”

  “Martin?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Now it’s your turn. Tell me your story.”

  I told him the story in rough outline form.

  “They took some kids during my raid, too.” I tucked my legs under me and tried sitting up.

  Zack steadied me. “So, Sammie?”

  “My sister. A Vie…drank her blood. Then he drank mine. It made him… high.”

  Zack’s jaw dropped. “What? That’s impossible. They don’t drink Anemie blood.”

  “I saw it.” In fact, it was tattooed in my mind.

  I forced myself to stand, clenching my jaw against the dizziness threatening to level me. “I need to find Sammie.”

  Zack offered himself as a crutch. “We need to get you better first.”

  Year 75, Month 5, Day 18, afternoon

  he tingling got worse, settling into a slow burn in my arms and legs. A steady buzz hummed in my ears. No matter which way I held my head, the swirling remained. My feet, now numb, barely held me, so I had to lean on Zack all the way to the subway entrance. All I could think about was Sammie suffering the same fate. Alex better have given her whatever medicine he had to help her.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Zack propped me against the wall. A padlock and chain entwined the iron bars of the floor to ceiling gate, locking us out. Like I thought. What else was Zack wrong about?

  “You got a key?” I asked.

  “Don’t need one.” Zack grinned and jiggled the lock.

  It slipped open and the chains loosened. A resourceful Anemie before us had picked it and figured out how to reposition the chains to make it seem untouched. Zack showed me the technique, all the while jabbering about how Vie probably heard our heartbeats down there anyway but the NCAAR kept the area free of raids. Hard to believe, but I had no energy to argue. Well, maybe it wasn’t so hard to believe. My teeth chattered with chills, and my skin burned with fever. Another wave of pain surged toward me. I missed half of what Zack said, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “It’s one of their biggest fears, you know. Us Anemies banding together, like we’d plan a revolt or something. Only the NCAAR is on our side.” He swung open the door and bowed. “After you.”

  “Thanks.” I entered the damp space, stumbling over my own feet.

  If the NCAAR really was so great, we wouldn’t have to fear for our lives and hide out in abandoned buildings and defunct subways all the time. We wouldn’t have to fight over food and water pellets.

  The rectangular tiles lining the walls were cracked from condensation and lack of cleaning. Piles of rubble proved the place’s speedy decay. The farther we walked, the stronger the acidic stench of urine became.

  Funny how Vie ignored the tunnels, since they had built-in tracks and subway cars already in place for underground transport. Sounded ideal for traveling during the day, but it would be so beneath them.

  “It stinks down here.” I paused next to a map.

  A rainbow of lines crisscrossed the diagram, each one marked by a letter or number identifying the tracks.

  “Do you think these tunnels under the Elite District are all still open?”

  That would be one way of sneaking there without being seen. Though getting from a tunnel to the surface street posed another set of challenges.

  He shrugged. “Probably. Bet they’re sealed off at the border, though. Vie aren’t stupid.”

  “Yeah. So you don’t take the tunnels to the Eee Dee, then.”

  He paused. “Huh?”

  “You said you go there all the time.”

  “Oh, yeah. No, we don’t use the tunnels. Hey, watch your step.” Zack yanked a mini-flashlight out of his pocket and turned it on. “Some parts of the floor aren’t stable anymore, especially in the stairways. When I say follow me, I mean follow me step for step.”

  “Fantastic,” I muttered, falling in line behind Zack, eyes stinging from the sweat dripping down my forehead.

  “This was meant to be, Justin. I swear. Martin will know what to do, you’ll see.” Zack lit a couple of lanterns.

  The rectangular room had to be at least twenty feet wide and twice as long. Gray paint, flecked with age, covered the walls. The concrete floor was stained in spots and cracked in others. Wooden pallets and a couple rows of shelves full of goods made up the only signs of life. My gaze landed on a collection of gas cans. A pile of dirty rags and a stack of long sticks sat next to the
m. If a fire broke loose, I’d be the first one out, no matter what. My heart fluttered at the thought of it.

  “There’s food in these cans? Like, real food?” I picked one up with a shaky hand. The tingling in my fingers was so bad I could barely tell if I had a hold on it or not. “Peas.”

  Zack nodded. “NCAAR donations. All of it. Including these lanterns. We’ll have plenty of light while we’re down here.” He pulled a bottle of protein water with extra minerals and vitamins from a full case and tossed it to me. “Here, drink this. You might need a transfusion, though. Martin’ll know.”

  “Martin knows everything?”

  “He’s our leader.”

  “Seriously?” My hand shook as I twisted the cap off and put the bottle to my dry lips. “You’re that… organized? How come I’ve never heard about you?”

  He shrugged and broke open a can of beets.

  I sighed, scrunching my nose at the dank mold scent. “What is this place, anyway?”

  “Home.” Red beet juice dribbled down his chin like blood.

  “Really?”

  Zack sat next to me on a rusty bench near the door. Back slouched and legs sprawled, his relaxed posture didn’t match his identity—a homeless kid forced to steal or fight for food and shelter to survive. “The subway workers used it, I think. You know, before the Arrival.”

  “And the NCAAR set it up for you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged again. “We’re safe here.”

  “Nowhere is safe.” I shivered, wishing I had warmer clothes or shoes. I wiggled my bare toes.

  “So negative.” He grinned, chewing a beet. “Check those boxes. We keep extra clothes and shoes and stuff in there. I bet something’ll fit you.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “No worries. The stuff is for everybody.”

  I’d all but wrecked my feet from running so much, but it seemed weird taking stuff. I didn’t want to owe anybody.

  “We all come and go. We have to be careful, you know, vary our routes, make sure nobody sees us.” He crisscrossed his arms, waving them like an uncoordinated ballerina.

  “No kidding.” My voice was getting hoarser by the minute. The wound at my neck felt like it had an anchor hanging off it. The weight of it tugged me down, hunched my back. Swallowing hurt like a bitch. I didn’t even try moving.

  “We help each other.” He raised his eyebrows for emphasis.

  “That’s… nice.” I coughed. Searing pain raked down my throat, and I doubled over. My chest tightened, pushing all the air from my lungs.

  Zack caught me again before I hit the floor. “Dude, you all right?”

  I needed oxygen. Needed to breathe… Couldn’t… Red squiggly lines darted across my vision.

  “What’s the… Zack, who’d you bring now?” A deep, rich voice echoed through the room.

  I lifted my head. The blurred outline of a dark-skinned, solid-framed figure headed my way. A Vie? He sure didn’t move like an Anemie, and he didn’t wear the uniform of a slave.

  Zack dropped the can of beets and shot to his feet. “Hey, Martin…”

  My sight cleared. Martin stood in front of me. Shirt and jeans: stain free. Shoes: not tattered.

  Score one point for Zack. Martin knew how to get what he wanted.

  “Who’re you?” Martin bent to lift me up by the collar. He used one arm like I weighed no more than a piece of paper.

  “Justin. Who’re you?” I slurred.

  My hands had gone entirely numb. Invisible needles pricked at my forearms. The guy could pummel me and I couldn’t lift a finger to defend myself.

  “What did I tell you about bringing strangers here without talking to me first?” He squinted at Zack.

  “You said it was okay in an emergency. This was an emergency. Look at his neck,” Zack squeaked. He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. The blush clinched it. He’d messed up. Big.

  Martin pulled me closer. “You’ve been bitten? He could be tranced and sent to spy on us, Zack.”

  “The Vie don’t use Anemies for spies,” he replied.

  “Don’t be stupid. They can do anything.” Martin released me.

  I dropped to my knees. “I’m… not… a spy.”

  He knelt to shove me against the wall with a very large, very solid palm. “How did you get bitten?”

  Thrown back to last night, I felt the sharp shock of Vie fangs digging into my flesh and smelled the scent of smoke and soot mingled with dying screams all over again. Sammie’s limp body lying out of reach. A layer of sweat erupted all over my body.

  “Raid. Vie drank me… to get high.” The words oozed out of me, lava hot and boiling.

  “Whoa, Justin. You just got really pale.”

  “Need… cure. Alex promised.” My tongue, all of a sudden too big for my mouth, refused to cooperate.

  “Who’s Alex?” Zack asked.

  Martin’s fingers slacked. After a long pause, he said, “There is no cure.”

  “Justin survived a raid. His sister was taken, and he wants to rescue her,” Zack blurted, “but I think the Vie toxin will get him first.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Martin’s question echoed in my head, distant. His bear-like hands slipped under my armpits, and he dragged me to a mat. “Zack, get a dose of Antinocio out of my bag.”

  My pulse boomed through my ears like the pounding footsteps of an approaching Vie army. Any second it would stop from exhaustion. It had to.

  “Draw it up, draw it up,” Martin barked.

  “All right, here it is.” Zack pulled up my shirtsleeve.

  A needle jabbed my arm. Liquid fire raced through my veins, toward my chest and brain, tightening my lungs. I choked on the lack of air.

  “Oh, man, is he dying?” Zack chewed on a fingernail.

  “No, he’s not. His body is reacting to the med,” Martin replied.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve seen it before. The toxin has progressed, so his body is fighting anything we give him.”

  “I’m sorry, Sammie,” I grunted.

  Year 75, Month 5, Day 18-19, night

  he war between Vie toxin and Antinocio raged on whether I stayed awake for it or not. Pain was the only constant. Rather than the creeping numbness I’d experienced before, an all-encompassing heat raged within me as if I’d fallen into the fire pit and flames licked my flesh once more. All I could do was hope for relief, and if that meant death, then so be it.

  I’d leave this world a failure. Poor Sammie.

  Another wave of agony sizzled through my body, building beyond what I could handle. I screamed, clutching my skull and arching my back.

  “Hold him down, Zack. I’ll get some ice.” Martin’s voice.

  Another yell ripped out of me. Ice wouldn’t stop this.

  “Justin, relax. It’s okay,” Martin said.

  Zack returned with two large sacks of ice. He dropped them next to me then tore them open, spilling shards of frozen water around my head and over my chest. He even shoved a piece in my mouth for good measure. “Don’t choke on it,” he warned.

  Like I had control over that.

  “The fever’s burning him alive,” Zack said. “We waited too long to give him Antinocio. It won’t work.”

  “Just shut up for once, will you?” Martin hated Zack’s Captain Obvious routine as much as me, it seemed.

  At first, the ice intensified the burning, but after a few moments, as my skin dulled from the cold and my nerves quieted, the pain lessened. Relief, finally.

  I found sleep.

  Later—how long I couldn’t guess—I woke. I felt nothing. Maybe my soul had left my body.

  I opened my eyes. The ceiling had cracks running here and there on its face. Air moved in and out of my lungs and sounds of breathing filtered to my ears, so something inside me worked. I just didn’t want to move and tempt the pain back to life.

  Zack appeared at my side, water bottle i
n hand. “Thirsty?”

  My throat felt thick and clogged, as if stuffed with mud. I rocked my head left to right slightly, unable to speak. No swallowing for me.

  Zack tried to pour some into my mouth. Precious water spilled all over.

  Martin snatched the bottle from Zack. “Leave him alone. You’re wasting your time.”

  “He needs something.” Giving up on the liquid water idea, Zack nestled a water pellet between my lips. “Chew this.”

  I spat it out.

  “Don’t bother. He’ll come around when he’s ready.” Martin didn’t seem to question my recovery. He assumed it.

  Like Alex had.

  My guts twisted in knots as chills jack-hammered through my body. I grimaced and curled into a ball.

  “He needs more Antinocio. At least it can help with the pain.” Zack wiped the sweat off my brow with a soiled rag.

  “What we gave him should’ve helped. Maybe it’s a bad batch.” Martin fished into his pocket and drew out an ampule.

  “You got it from NCAAR. It has to be good.” Zack chewed on a straw.

  “Give it to me.” I lifted my head, refreshing the gnawing agony centered in my neck.

  “Rest. You’re not going anywhere.” Zack held me down.

  I pushed him away with shaky arms and dry-heaved the meager contents of my stomach. Basically stomach acid, bile, and bits of water pellet. Zack said something like, “Eww, it got on me,” while I tried to catch my breath. My brain couldn’t focus on anything other than the pain. The toxin won the war. There was no need for it to keep torturing me and no need for Martin and Zack to waste pellets and medicine on me.

  “What do we do now?” Zack’s voice wobbled.

  Martin rubbed the top of his head. “He needs a transfusion.”

  They stood.

  “Hang tight, Justin. We’ll get you some blood.” Martin hesitated. Stared at the wall. Stared at me. Stared at Zack. Then back to me. He didn’t want to do it. I couldn’t blame him.

  “No, you can’t trust NCAAR. Blood won’t work anyway. It’s too late.” I tried to sit up.

  Martin pressed me down onto the mat. “We look out for each other here. Rest. We’ll be back before you know it.”