“Hey, look at this,” Cali called. She stood on a short but well-preserved stretch of road made of stone instead of concrete and asphalt. “What is it?”
“It’s only more of the roadway.”
“But why is it so nice? Why didn’t they do this everywhere? It’s obviously better than the rest of the road.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” The sun had risen, and in the direct sunlight, Draven found himself stumbling even after donning his sunshades. He searched among the heaps that had been the foundations of buildings, and soon, he found one where a basement had collapsed, leaving a large crater in the ground.
“Come look,” Cali said. “I found words.”
“I must take sleep soon,” Draven said, but he went to her. She stood beside a slab of concrete inscribed with names.
“Is this like in the cave?” Cali whispered after he’d read them to her.
“I can’t imagine it is. Perhaps survivors of the War, or those killed.”
“I wonder if anyone remembers them. If they’re Superiors, maybe they’re still alive. Maybe we could find them.”
Draven smiled. “If they evolved, it’s possible. But I’d rather not see another Superior just now.”
Cali hugged herself. “Me, too.”
Draven took sleep, and when he awakened, they continued walking, hurrying to leave the openness of the razed city. If Byron found them there, they could not hide behind anything but a few trees and piles of debris.
After a time, Cali asked if they could stop and eat, so Draven pulled several broken cinderblocks from a pile and fashioned them into a seat for her. Under one of the blocks, he noticed a rusted seam of metal cutting through the cement foundation, but he didn’t think much of it. Cali sat to rest and eat a piece of dried meat, but her eyes continued to dart about, as if she had to absorb every detail before they left the city that so fascinated her.
“What’s that?” she asked. When Draven turned, she pointed to the rusted seam.
“I don’t know,” he said, shouldering the pack.
“Don’t you want to find out?” she asked. “What if it’s something important.”
“It’s not.”
“But if you don’t know what it is, then how do you know it’s not? Maybe it’s a weapon, one that could kill Byron.”
“It’s not.”
“You don’t know that, because you don’t know what it is.”
He sighed and stooped to pull away a few more blocks. The pile shifted, and he caught Cali around the waist and darted further from the tumbling cinderblocks.
Cali let out a breathy laugh and pulled away when the blocks had settled and the dust began to shift through the damp air towards the earth once more. “Let’s see what it is,” she said, shoving the entire strip of meat into her mouth and starting for the spot she’d sat only moments before, her seat now toppled and indistinguishable from the other rubble. Draven darted in front of her, and together they tested out the edge of the heap. When he was sure it wouldn’t collapse again, he began tossing the fallen pieces aside.
Cali joined him, and they undid the pile of bricks and blocks and chunks of cement. When they had finished, they stood back and surveyed the clearing they’d made around the square metal seam. The metal itself had rusted to red powder on the surface. At one edge of the square lay two cylindrical tubes about the size of his smallest finger, and a steel loop rose from the cement opposite them.
“What is it?” Cali asked.
“A door.”
“A door in the ground? Why would someone put a door in the ground?”
“It’s likely a bomb shelter from the War. Or perhaps an armory.”
“What’s an armory?” she asked.
Draven could hardly keep himself from leaping onto the door and tearing it open. If it was an armory, Cali had saved their lives, and perhaps given them the advantage they so desperately needed to defeat Byron.
“Open it,” he said, nudging Cali forward.
She tugged at the door for several minutes while Draven held himself in check. Finally, he could wait no longer. “Shall I?” he asked.
She stepped back, and he grasped the metal handle and heaved the door upwards. Despite his Superior strength, it only gave a bit. The rust had sealed it, and only after a half dozen attempts could he free the door from the frame. It groaned as it emerged, a rusted spring almost the size of Cali’s midsection creaking as it unspooled. The bottom of the door was framed with wooden planks, which had rotted some but not completely.
Cali shone the flashlight into the gaping maw. A greyed wooden ladder led to a cement floor below. “What is it?” Cali asked again. “Can we go in?”
“I’ll make sure it’s safe,” he said. He took the flashlight, leaving Cali the knife and the pack, before he dropped into the shelter. Just as he leapt, he had a fleeting thought that it would be most unfortunate if he found a starved Superior inside, awaiting the slightest scent of sapien to reawaken its hunger.
The large room was filled with shelving that contained both foreign and familiar objects from sapien times. He scanned it quickly, striding through the narrow aisles for signs of danger. In one corner, he discovered a bed, still made up as if awaiting their arrival. In the opposite corner, he discovered the bed’s intended guests—two long-dead sapiens, their bodies propped against the wall, rifles across their laps, still guarding their lair.
Cali called down, and he answered before wrapping the bodies in a sheet from the bed and stowed them in a corner. Then he climbed the ladder, testing each step and finding enough stable rungs to support his weight as he ascended.
“It’s a shelter,” he said as he emerged. “We can’t have a fire, but we can stay a day or two, rest and take good sleep in the dark.”
Cali followed him down the ladder. He pulled the door closed behind them, although it didn’t seem to fit anymore. After several attempts, Draven managed to wedge it into the opening. When he had finished, he brushed the dust and rust from his clothing and turned to find Cali standing at a shelf.
“Look at all these books,” she marveled, running her fingertips across their spines. “I thought you had a lot back home, but these…”
“Most paper books were destroyed during the War so people couldn’t hide messages in them,” he said. The humans who had hidden here had also hidden their library, it seemed. They’d lined an entire set of shelves stretching as long as the room with books. Three similar sets of shelves filled most of the remaining space in the shelter, with a clear spot beneath the door and one at the other end of the shelves where the bed stood. Two sets of shelves contained what had once been food. Rodents, insects, or mold had eaten away the boxes, leaving only shredded balls of paper as evidence of their former existence. Cans of food had exploded or corroded over the years, leaving empty tin shells surrounded by stains of varying shades. The labels on some were still readable.
On the last shelf, Draven found a case containing two antique shotguns and two handguns, cases of bullets, a bow with steel-tipped arrows, a roll of wire, cases of corroded batteries, and a huge case of ancient matches, which he didn’t imagine would still work. He couldn’t imagine why humans would need so many matches in a place so airtight that building a fire would asphyxiate the occupants, but he meant to try them. There were also cases of plastic water bottles, all of which had cracked, leaking their contents onto the floor beneath, old-fashioned sapien-style light bulbs, and many objects he couldn’t identify, including a strange contraption that resembled a miniature wind turbine in a cage with a cord attached to the base.
After exploring the shelter, Draven returned to Cali, who hadn’t moved from her place beside the bookshelf. “Can we stay here forever?” She turned her sparkling eyes on him. “Or at least until you’ve read all the stories to me?”
“Not forever,” he said. “But a few days, perhaps.”
“Thank you,” Cali said, throwing herself into his arms.
He caught her up, laughing, and checked hi
mself at the last moment, reminded of the moment he’d forgotten and squeezed her too hard. “I should make you happy more often if this is the thanks I get,” he said, setting her on her feet.
“You should,” she agreed.
“I’ve got to do one more thing outside,” he said. “Do you need to…relieve yourself?”
Cali smiled. “No, I did my business while you were down here before. I’ll be here.” She made her way down the set of shelves, running her fingers along the books as she went.
Draven gathered the sheet with the bones and climbed the ladder, all the time waiting for Cali’s questions. For once, she seemed too preoccupied for curiosity. He flung the door open with some effort, sure he’d break the ladder with the force of straining against the door, but it held. After disposing of the bones, he sprinkled the door with some of the camouflaging scents Sally had given him—lemon juice, clove powder, and a clove of garlic—before descending the ladder again.
CHAPTER forty
“Can I drink this?” Cali asked, holding up a glass bottle, half filled with clear liquid. Draven plucked it from her hand to examine the label, most of which had disintegrated.
After inspection, he handed the bottle back. “I can’t imagine why not.”
She twisted off the cap, inhaled the fumes, and made a sour face. “It doesn’t smell very good.”
“Don’t drink it, then. We have water.”
Cali sniffed at the mouth of the bottle, then turned it up and took a sip “Oh, it burns, it burns,” she said. “What is this?”
Draven accepted the bottle and took a sip. “It’s alcohol.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s…like medicine. It numbs pain. If you drink a lot, it makes you drunk.”
“Ohhhh,” she said, comprehension dawning in her eyes. “Like corn whiskey.”
“Exactly like that.”
“Well, I’ve had that before. It’s not nearly so sharp, though. I used to drink it when…you know. When I had my woman’s days and my stomach hurt.”
“I didn’t know humans still drank alcohol. I’ve never tasted it on one.”
Cali laughed. “I didn’t think Superiors did. Give me that back. I think it’s better than corn whiskey.”
“Have you been drunk before?”
“Sure, everyone has. I mean, it’s one of the things we can make for ourselves. I’ve even heard of people making corn whiskey out of potatoes or watermelons—all kinds of things.”
“Wouldn’t that be potato whiskey? But I think it’s called something else. Vodka, perhaps.”
“Vutka?” Cali took a swig from the bottle. “We should keep this. Can we take it with us?”
“Take anything you like.”
“Can we take all the books?”
“Choose one, and I’ll read to you.”
“Is this supposed to be one of you?” she asked, holding up a book. The front cover featured an illustration of a man wearing a black cape, his fingers curled like claws, his drawing teeth so long there was no possible way he could close his mouth.
Draven laughed. “It might be. Is that what you want me to read?”
“No, that’s boring,” she said, sliding it back onto the shelf. “Are these books by humans or Superiors?”
“Humans. Look, here is one called The Secret Garden. You like gardening. Shall I read it to you?”
“Yes, perfect. Now come lay with me,” she said, skipping to the bed and flopping down. The bed frame squeaked terribly. Mice had chewed holes in the blanket and stuffed the threads into a hollow in a pillow, along with paper and plastic to pad their nest. Draven tossed the mouse nest in a corner, flipped the pillow, and slid it under the good one. Cali scooted close, rested her head on his arm, and sipped from her alcohol bottle while he read. Her body lay warm against his, soft and luscious, and he grew as drunk on her scent as she was on alcohol.
“Stop drinking that,” he said, reaching for it. “I’ll get drunk when I draw from you.”
“No,” she said, laughing and holding it away from him. “I found it, so it’s mine.”
“You’ll make yourself sick.”
“I will not. Now keep reading.”
After listening to him read for a few more minutes, Cali rolled onto her side and pressed the bottle against his lips. He relented and took a swallow, but he quickly pulled away with a grimace.
“What, can’t you drink corn whiskey?” Cali teased before downing another mouthful.
“I haven’t ever. People act foolish after alcohol.”
“What if I want you to act foolish?”
“Why would you want that?”
“Because I’ve never seen you act stupid. You see me act stupid all the time.”
“Not all the time.”
She pinched his arm. “Don’t be mean. You promised you’d be nice to me.”
“I’m reading to you, yes?”
“I’m tired of that,” she said, standing to stretch. Draven captured the liquor bottle and tried not to watch Cali stretch her body to its last millimeter. She collapsed out of the stretch, stumbled, giggled as she caught herself, and bent to open the pack. After a bit of digging, and a bit more stumbling, she pulled the black party frock from the bottom of the bag. “I still have this? Why didn’t I know, all this time? This is the funniest shift I’ve ever seen. I mean, look at it. There’s no place to put your arms.”
“I see that,” Draven said, sitting upright on the bed and covering his lap with the open book. He turned away as Cali began to slip her trousers down.
“You can look,” she said. “I don’t mind anymore.”
“I’d better not.”
“You’re missing some very fantastic legs…”
Surprised by the teasing in her voice, he forgot himself and turned towards her. He looked away again quickly. When she’d succeeded in pulling on the sleeveless frock, she came to him where he sat on the edge of the bed, and drew his hands up to her waist. The dress was satin and tight to the waist, where it flared out in ruffled layers. His breath caught, and he had to force himself to raise his eyes to hers.
“Are you trying to seduce me?”
“What’s that?”
“Nothing. I’m out of my mind. What is it you want?”
“Give me my whiskey back.”
He laughed, both relieved and crushed that nothing had come of the moment before. He took a sip from the bottle. “This is terrible. How can you like it?”
“Because I’m drunk, that’s how. Aren’t you?”
“Perhaps a bit.”
Cali took the bottle and held it out of his reach. “Do you think I’m pretty?”
“Ravishing.” He reached for her or the bottle, he wasn’t sure which.
She darted between the shelves, turned, and stood smiling an invitation at him.
“Do you want me to chase you?”
“Of course I do, silly.”
He was on her before she could turn to flee. He let her run, but he was waiting for her at the end of the aisle when she arrived there, too. She let out a shriek and pushed at his chest. “That’s not fair,” she said. “You’re too fast. I can never win.”
“That’s right,” he said, drawing the bottle from her hand. “You never can.”
She ducked under his arm and raced down the next aisle. After a few minutes of finding him before her at every turn, she fell into him, laughing and out of breath. “You’re no fun. Can’t you just let me win once?”
“Yes. But not this time.” He took her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. When he lay her down, she closed her eyes and held to his neck.
“Why won’t you play with me?” she asked. “You don’t have to be old and mean and boring all the time.”
“Yes, I’m quite dull.”
“I don’t believe you. Now kiss me.”
“No.”
“Why not? Is it because you think I’m rotty with drink?”
“You’re not thinking clearly.”
; “I don’t care. Kiss me. I won’t let go until you kiss me.”
He slipped from her hands as easily as if they weren’t there at all, but she reached for him, curled her fingers over the waistband of his trousers, and tugged. “Please?” she said. “You wanted me before. Can’t you do it for me? I want you to.”
“Do you imagine you can simply decide you want something, and you’ll get it?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you can’t.”
“I can keep trying,” she said. “I ran away three times, and it didn’t stop me from running away again with you.”
“You’re headstrong.”
“But I want you, and you want me. Why can’t we have each other?”
“You don’t care that I might kill you?”
“You wouldn’t. You love me too much.”
He let her pull him against the edge of the bed, but he couldn’t lie with her.
“What did I do wrong?” she asked. “Why won’t you have me? Don’t you want to, even a little bit, just to know what it’s like? I love you. Why don’t you love me anymore?”
He snatched her hand from his trousers and fell upon her, trapping her beneath him, pulling her hands above her head. “You have to stop this nonsense, you sexy little fool. Of course I want you. I’m mad with wanting you. Is that what you want, my admission? Of course I love you. But it means more. That I want you, I want to have you, and kiss you, and eat you, and love you madly, and make you love me. But I can’t risk losing you forever just to lie with you a few times.”
“Just a few times?”
“Perhaps only once, perhaps ten times. But I’d hurt you, even without wanting to. I told you I’d get you…a mate.”
She wrapped her legs around his hips and linked her feet together. “I don’t want a mate. I want you.”
“If you’re so desperate, I’ll pleasure you myself. But I won’t have you.”
The Fugitives, A Dystopian Vampire Novel: Book Four: The Superiors Series Page 22