by R. G. Nelson
I hear her breaking voice softly calling out to me, “Run, human. Please.” I look back at Lukos’ menacing figure–he can probably hear it, too–and lose my courage. Or maybe I just decide to do the smart thing. Either way, I break and run. I run like I’ve never run before, stake still in hand just in case. My new power carries me to the wall with what feels like instantaneous speed. I hope that Vera has now continued running away and is creating a large head start. I take several bounds up on my feet and then switch to all fours and follow her path up to the roof, jumping from window to pipe to window–pull, climb, jump, pull, shimmy, jump. And then before I know it, I’m there at the top. But I hear someone laughing from behind me.
I turn and look down. Lukos stands at the base of the building, just watching me go. He is smiling and emitting sinister chuckles. A growing, sinking feeling begins to develop in my stomach as I realize that he is laughing at me. I’m not sure why, but it can’t be good. I’m just starting to turn to complete my escape along the roof top when I see him jump.
And then he is there, in front of me on the roof. He blocks my path and has cut me off from where I hope Vera is growing more and more distant. Still smiling, he looks me up and down, assessing me. I see that his grin does not touch his eyes.
“So, you are to blame for all this?” he asks calmly, almost familiarly. And then, suddenly, he is no longer smiling. “Decades of planning. Why?” This question is harder, more pointed. And I realize that he wants an answer. That suits me fine; maybe I can stall him longer for Vera.
So I tell him the truth: “Because someone had to.”
He shakes his head, almost sadly. When he next speaks, his voice sounds almost resigned. “The world moves ahead of us. Your very existence will be threatened.”
“True. But maybe it's not our time anymore,” I respond. “We lived our lives. And then we died. We need to deal with that; I’m just trying to help restore the natural order.”
“The natural order?” he scoffs. “We are preternatural. You don't deserve the vampiric gift,” Lukos utters, his voice dropping into a low guttural growl. It chills my bones. “You don't know how to enjoy true power.” Well, it only took him a few seconds to come to the same conclusion that many other vamps eventually seemed to reach about me. I’m not surprised.
I try to stand my ground and not show the very real fear seeping throughout my being. “Power isn't something to be enjoyed. If everyone understood that, the world would be a lot better off,” I tell him pointedly.
And here, Lukos smiles again, but this time he reminds me of the Lukos that I saw in the underground chamber. Right before he had all the Elders destroyed. “Cute,” he says. “But you won't be here to see if it ever happens.”
I have just enough time to turn to the side, away from the edge behind me, before his blow strikes me. I double over, conscious of only two things: the pain in my chest and my hope that Vera is long, long gone. And then I’m seeing stars. Confused, I think for a moment that he hit me so hard that I’m dazed. But I realize that I’m on my back now and staring up at the actual stars. They seem to rock and sway and call out to me, urging me to get up, but maybe I am a bit dazed after all.
Lukos grabs me and throws me into a large metallic vent. I don’t know exactly what it normally does, but it hurts like hell when you’re thrown into it. The pain and impact knock me to my senses, though. I become aware that this fight is happening whether I want it to or not, and that I better get my head in the game. I feel rage growing inside me, and I try to draw strength from that. I summon all the power inside me, power whose limits I haven’t even fully explored yet, and feel my fangs extend unbidden from inside. Battle buzz: check.
Without meaning to, I snarl.
And then I pounce. Lukos is surprised to see me on the offensive, especially when my stake is somewhere on the other side of the roof where it was knocked in all this. He is also surprised when my second blow catches him on the jaw. I can tell that he wasn’t expecting my speed and power. I use that to my advantage and strike again. Then again. Then I kick out at his knee, hoping to put him off balance.
But he recovers quicker than I would have liked and side steps out of the way, countering. He moves very, very fast, but it’s as if the faster he moves, and the faster I need to move in response, the more time slows to adjust. Or rather, time stays the same, but the rest of the world slows. Inside my head, I can think and process info at the usual speed, but everything else seems to be on a massive delay. Well, everything except Lukos’ fists. Those seem to be moving just fine.
A blow catches me unprepared, and I feel my nose begin to bleed. Still I rage on, trying to keep my strikes controlled and precise and to not become the wild animal that I feel trapped inside. He blocks most of my efforts, but every once in a while I manage to connect. Unfortunately, for every one that I get in, he gets in two. My body starts to ache from the repeated pummeling in too short of a space to heal. I almost want to look down to make sure that I’m still wearing armor. It sure doesn’t feel like it.
I start to look for an opening to slip out the syringe and get it in him. I circle behind another vent type of thing and use that moment to take it out into my hand. I see him see it. I see him get suspicious as I quickly uncap it. But I don’t care–I have to make my move. There is no escape for me as I previously hoped; I know that he is too fast and will catch me. So I hop over the vent and lunge at him, needle first.
My outstretched hand connects with nothing but air. And then I feel his fist come down on my wrist, hard, and just like that, the syringe is gone somewhere else on the dark roof. But Lukos doesn’t stop there; his leg kicks out into my ribs and sends me literally flying back. I’m down. Shattered and lying on my side, even rolling over to face Lukos hurts. I have no idea how I can continue.
But I know that I have to ….
Somehow.
I drag myself back up. “Impressive,” Lukos acknowledges. “How old are you, exactly?”
“Oh, I’m about a year old,” I admit, then laugh when I see Lukos’ shock. My ribs make me instantly regret the laugh.
“We really could have used a fighter like you,” Lukos says. “It will be a shame to see you turn to dust.”
“Yeah, well, life sucks. Why should undeath be any different?” I throw back. If I’m going to the neverend here, tonight, I at least want to do it like a man.
And so I race forward and punch again.
And again.
And again.
Yet each time my arm goes out, Lukos’ is there to stop it. Frustrated, I try a new tactic and attempt to tackle him like a linebacker. But I’m just met with a blurred wall of pain. I don’t even see his individual strikes anymore; I just feel the cumulative impact seeping away my strength and will to fight.
Lukos must sense his imminent victory, because he grabs me and pins me from behind. One hand pulls hard on my hair, exposing my neck. I know what comes next, so when his teeth break into my flesh I’m not surprised. I can only make a half-hearted attempt to break free. With each swallow that I feel him steal from me, my feeble struggle becomes less, until finally I just lie there in his grasp, waiting for the end. Darkness hovers on the edge of my vision, an eternal night without stars, ready to close in. I’m about to yield to it, to float off into the welcoming abyss, when I hear it.
Hear her.
Vera.
She screams so loud that it pulls me back from the brink. I feel myself dropped (or more accurately, flung aside), as Lukos turns to meet her. She has snatched up the syringe from some recess of the roof and is ineffectually trying to drive it home inside him. But my angel is no match. He blocks her every move and even smiles as he toys with her. She will die if I don’t help her.
Helpless to move
much, let alone fight, I try to call on my new power to start healing me as fast as possible so that I can once more enter the fray. But with so much blood gone, the healing tingling that I normally feel seems to be taking much, much longer. Too long. I realize that I can’t wait for it. She doesn’t have the time. Time to cowboy up.
Save Vera.
Save Vera.
Save Vera.
From deep inside some remote corner of my being that I didn’t know I had, but just discovered for Vera’s sake, I commandeer a hidden reserve of energy. I painfully stagger back to my feet and look around quickly for the silver stake. I don’t see it and don’t want to waste more time searching for it. The syringe in Vera’s grasp is our best hope anyway. I face toward Lukos and snarl in anger. In rage. In defiance. He looks back at me. And then I lunge at him and punch as hard as I can at his face.
But I miss.
Or more precisely, I’m too slow. And he is gone from where he was before my fist can land home. And then I’m back down, flat on my back. Staring up once more at the stars. A crunch lets me know that Lukos has just crushed my knee. Second time tonight. I would probably have cried out, but my body is already in so much pain that I can’t separate the new from the existing. For a few seconds, I can hardly move. Some hero I turned out to be. Finally, I get some muscle control back and manage to lift my head. I see the worst.
Vera is helpless in his grasp, much as I was moments ago. He has her pinned from behind, with one arm wrapped around her body, trapping both her arms. The syringe is there, in her hand, but she can’t use it. It’s horrifying. Lukos’ other hand holds her head, baring her neck for his pleasure. It’s a heartbreaking thing to watch your girl being violated in another man’s grasp and know that you can’t do a damn thing about it. She loved me. She trusted me to protect her. And I let her down.
And then he bites down and drinks.
I’m furious.
I’m furious and terrified and helpless. My girlfriend is being destroyed in front of me and I’m lying here helpless. If I could just get up and limp over there, maybe I could take the syringe and use it. But I’m having trouble even sitting up. Vera! My heart goes out to her; she wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for me.
Vera has stopped struggling–she goes limp in his arms. I remember the sensation and know that she must be slipping toward the neverend. If she could just hold on for a few moments longer….
But Lukos sees me watching. He stops from drinking just long enough to taunt me. “You will get a true traitor's death and face the morning sunlight. I will hold you myself as you burn. But now, now you will watch this one die and know that you were too weak to stop it.” He bites deep again, savaging her neck. Wasted blood flows everywhere, staining her clothes further. Her eyes gaze outward, frozen and increasingly vacant.
With this image before me, I somehow pull myself to my feet.
I hobble toward her, conscious that for every broken step I take, she loses more and more blood.
I reach out, willing her to hold on.
And then something strange happens. Lukos lets her go. She falls to the ground, unmoving. I think for a second that she is dead, but then remember that when vampires die, you know it. Lukos looks at me and tries to take a step, but he doesn’t quite manage it. He tries to speak, but doesn’t quite manage that either. Instead, he seems to freeze in place, immobile.
And then I see it. The syringe still sticking out of Vera’s thigh. She couldn’t get it into Lukos, so she used her own blood to carry it into him as he drank from her. Smart cookie. But also very dumb–Metz warned that it might be too strong for vampires without the strength of the Elders. She could have just frozen herself permanently.
But I’ll have to deal with that later, because I have only moments before it starts to wear off of Lukos. I look around frantically, trying to find the silver stake. Precious seconds tick by: five, ten, twenty … and finally, I see it, blending into and stuck halfway underneath one of the metallic vents. I hobble over quickly, as quickly as I can considering my knee, and grab it. I try to ignore the pain and focus on the task of keeping my balance while moving. I’ll heal, I tell myself as I push through it.
Probably less than a minute has passed before I’m standing back in front of Lukos. Probably. I don’t want to cut this too close, yet I can’t help but pause look at him. So much powerful blood there, ripe for the taking if it weren’t for the tranq coursing through him. As much as I’d love another turbo boost, especially with the aches my body is currently enduring, I know I can’t risk immobilizing myself. Not when so many enemies remain nearby. So I stare him in the eyes for a few seconds, letting him see what is coming. I want him to absorb and appreciate that helpless feeling that he made me feel. I want him to know what is about to happen and internalize that he cannot stop me. I even smile. I hope he finds it sinister the way I did.
And then Lukos blinks.
I think I flinch, and then regret it as he must have enjoyed seeing the effect a simple blink could have on me. The whole moment I was trying to create was just ruined. So much for the badass vibe I was going for. Hopefully, he is more worried about what I’m going to do to him than gloating over my skittishness. Anyway, I’ll just have to settle for destroying him.
And then I do.
And I enjoy it.
35)
As soon as the Lukos situation is done and dusted, my full attention turns to Vera. My angel lies prone on the dusty rooftop like a toppled marble statue of a Greek goddess. Certainly as pale and as beautiful. And as inanimate. I kneel beside her, as if to pay homage, but instead try to shake her lightly into responsiveness. With no luck, I gently close her eyes–their shallow, unfocused, and vacant stare unnerves me. Perhaps it is a remnant of my days as a human, when such expression meant death. Perhaps I simply can’t face them: Now that there is a moment of respite, guilt has begun its insidious creep forward into the back recesses of my mind.
What if I could have fought harder?
Run faster?
What if I hadn’t answered the phone when I thought Taylor was calling?
What if I had just toed the line and not rocked the boat? Was Vera’s life and health worth sacrificing to prevent the Vampirists from seizing power over humans?
But no, I can’t think like that. Not even at this cost–though I sincerely wish it were me lying there and not Vera. I note that a few loose strands of hair have fallen across her face. I gently tuck them away back behind her ear in case they are bothering her. Now that her soft cheek is fully exposed, I can’t help but run my hand across it affectionately, tracing and re-tracing the indentations that I know so well. I hope that even in her frozen state she can feel it and draw comfort from knowing that I’m here, with her.
Abruptly, I sense another presence behind me. There are no humans here though–my nose and ears and common sense tell me that. I pause from my ministrations and tense up, instinctively searching out the silver stake with my eyes. I try to ready myself for yet another round of combat in what has seemed like an endless night of conflict. And to think that a little over a year ago, I was a self-professed nerd. A recovering nerd, maybe, but still someone who would be very far away from the veteran pugilist this night has shown me to be. The kind of warrior that can pretend to be taking care of a wounded girlfriend while actually mentally taking stock of the extent of his previous injuries and his ability to do violence to others. This time, I’ll have to win fully on my own–injured knee and low blood level be damned–there is no one coming to save me. I hope that I have it in me, for both our sakes.
“Hey,” a voice calls out warily. I relax. Partially. I know that voice. It’s a girl’s voice.
Laney.
I turn around carefully,
feigning imbalance as an excuse to put my hand out near where the stake lies. You know, just in case. But Laney sees through this ploy and gives a small smile. Then she catches sight of Vera and stops smiling altogether. She can tell that something is very, very wrong. She steps forward quickly, and then stops briefly–I guess to get permission first. I nod, but watch, on guard. I see her take me in, in turn. Her eyes rove over me, noting the fact that my body isn’t healing the way it should. Given who we just fought, I’d expect her just to be surprised that we are still undead.
Laney sighs and unslings a large backpack from behind her. She unzips it and reaches inside, ruffling around for something deep within near the bottom. It’s packed tight and as she fumbles around I see bits of bright colored clothing sticking out. A hairband falls out onto the roof. Followed by a brush. I guess she packed the essentials for her escape. After a few more seconds, I hear the crinkle of plastic as her fingers find what they are looking for. A triumphant smile dances across her lips. She pulls out the blood bag and tosses it to me.
I look at it suspiciously. This is the girl who tried to turn us in not much more than an hour or so ago. Although, to be fair, so much has changed since then. “It’s not poisoned,” she declares, somewhat exasperated. “I took it for me, but you guys apparently need it a whole lot more. I don’t have many: I tried to take what I could in case it takes a while before I can locate a new supply, but seems like others had the same idea.”
“It’s okay. Thank you,” I say. I forget about the stake for the time being and try to delicately bite the top off the bag to make a spout of sorts. Then I ease Vera onto her back and wipe my hand off so I can try to pry open her mouth. I give a dry chuckle as I realize that the dirt on my fingers is the least of my vampire girlfriend’s worries right now. After I manage to achieve a small hole, I pour a bit of the blood inside. She doesn’t swallow, though, and the excess runs over her cheek in a thin, disconcerting rivulet. I try to massage her throat, as if this will somehow induce her to swallow. But I have no luck. She is thoroughly and completely frozen. Incapable of even a small muscle movement like that.