Defending the Lost

by Justin Sloan

  Though she couldn’t quite fathom how a god would have let the world sink to this level of fecal existence.

  An old man with missing teeth and a cloth over one eye approached her, hand held out as he mumbled to himself. His one good eye stared into the distance as if he didn’t really see them, and that’s when she realized he was mumbling in French.

  “What’s he saying?” Martha asked.

  She listened for a moment, then shook her head. “You’d rather not know.”

  “The gist?”

  “Stuff he’d like to do to all of us.” She walked on, not even acknowledging the man. “It involved replacing his eye with one of ours, and worse. The word for shit was repeated in a fairly incomprehensible way.”

  “These people,” Robin asked, “they’re not slaves?”

  “Some of them were,” Rand replied, “before being cast out of their positions for being too lost…too out of their minds.”

  “So they wouldn’t be much use if we were to ask them questions.”

  Rand shook his head. “Afraid not. Some people suspect them of faking it, but having lived here I can tell you that a large portion of them really are batshit crazy.”

  “How do they survive?” Robin asked.

  “Mostly by begging or looking for scraps, though…”

  “Yes?”

  “Some still have relatives among the slaves. I think they bring food out here when they can.”

  “So they steal,” Valerie stated. “And I imagine they suffer the consequences if they’re caught?”

  “Both them and the people they were helping would be executed, yes.”

  Valerie thought about everything he was saying for a moment as he motioned up a hill to their left.

  “I don’t imagine there were so many crazy people before the great collapse,” she finally stated, keeping her voice down as they passed the torn-out foundations of a house where several of these crazies were milling about, two of them caressing each other in a very disturbing way. “Right? It doesn’t meld with all the stories you hear of the glory days of old.”

  “So what if there weren’t?” Martha asked. “Does that change anything now?”

  Valerie shrugged. “Might. I don’t know. If anything, one has to wonder what’s causing it. Are they all really messed up by drugs, as those in New York would have you believe? I’m having my doubts, is all.”

  “So something has happened that’s causing people to lose their minds,” Robin cut in. “Sure, it’s possible.”

  Valerie turned to her, sensing a change in her aura. “You’ve seen something?”

  After trudging up that hill in silence and nearly slipping on a muddy patch but being caught by Valerie, Robin nodded. “My gramps. He was still with us for a while. One day he went out to slaughter a chicken for dinner, but didn’t come back. Dad went out looking, and when he took too long, I followed. He’d found the old man sitting there with the chickens, staring at the wall of the chicken coop. Just…staring. That look of emptiness never left his eyes, and we couldn’t explain it.”

  “We call that old age, up north,” Martha said. “No offense.”

  “Offense taken,” Robin replied with a glare. “It wasn’t that. I know the difference.”

  “And your grandpa?” Rand asked. “What happened to him?”

  Robin turned away, continuing up the hill. No answer, but a cold wave emanated from her and Valerie knew to leave it alone. Her best interpretation of that wave was intense sorrow.

  They continued in silence past an old building’s skeleton, Valerie doing her best to ignore the shapes that could only have been bodies hanging on the front, swinging in the wind.

  A deadly silence hung over this area as if even the sounds from the city had been blocked off. Oh, they were still there, but seemed not to be at the same time. Lining a nearby street were several stores with large signs in Chinese that had certainly once flashed with the bright lights similar to those in Capital Square in New York; these signs were now broken or hanging sideways. Another storefront had worn-out pictures of nude women, and Valerie had to wonder about the old days again. She had come across a lot of built-up sexual tension among the people of New York, and there were those who had gotten down on the streets at night, including that one bastard she had taken care of later in the bazaar. But stores that dealt in sex? She couldn’t imagine what sort of society would condone such a thing.

  A yelp came from within, and she had to remember that modern society couldn’t be any less harshly judged.

  The group paused, glancing at each other, and then Valerie noticed shadows behind them. A small group had gathered and was following them.

  “Trouble?” she whispered.

  “Only if we don’t keep moving.”

  Again the yelp sounded, this time followed by a man’s voice that whimpered, “Please, no more.”

  “Fuck that,” she declared, and turned toward the noise.

  She felt for her sword as she approached the door to the place with the sex pics, forgetting that the weapon wasn’t there. Her knives would have to do, or she would just go old-style vamp on them—she wasn’t sure which.

  She pushed through the swinging doors and came to a dark corner, where she took a left and made her way past a curtain into the main area. What she had expected to find was someone getting molested or worse, but what she found instead was a man tied to a cross on a stage and a group of men and women who took turns throwing rocks, pieces of broken cement, and other objects at him.

  “Stop, please,” he begged again, and at that moment the crowd turned to Valerie.

  Her companions joined her and Rand mouthed, “Oh, shit.”

  “We gotta go,” he warned, taking a step back. When the others didn’t follow, he added, “This is how they do it here. Their justice system, for wrongdoers.”

  Valerie digested that as she looked at the cuts and welts on the bound man, and she shook her head.

  “What has he done wrong?” she asked, addressing the assailants.

  “None of your business,” a man said, stepping toward her and brandishing a large stick with nails protruding from its top. “Scram, or you join him.”

  She considered this, then asked Rand, “Does the man likely deserve this?”

  Rand’s face scrunched up, then he sighed. “I’ve seen them do this for the wrong reasons.”

  “Well then,” Valerie said, turning back with a wicked smile that showed her vampire teeth and red eyes. “Let’s show them what justice really looks like.”

  “Le diable,” one of them hissed, stepping back and diving for a machete. Another went for a crossbow, but she held up a hand and pushed a slight amount of fear so that they all froze in terror.

  “Before you do anything stupid,” she stepped forward, letting her fingernails grow into claws, “I want to give you all the chance to leave unharmed. Your masters in this city are about to face justice. You don’t have to join them.”

  When one woman pulled at the arm of a man and he turned and ran off with her, Valerie was glad to see them go. She’d rather not kill anyone she didn’t have to. Perhaps this was part of their culture; if they were given fair warning and stopped, she had no problem.

  It was the people who knowingly hurt others, especially if they enjoyed it, who she looked forward to bringing to their knees.

  So when the rest charged her, she embraced the beast within. But this wasn’t about killing them, she decided as the first one swung his nail-tipped stick at her. It was about teaching a lesson, and making a change.

  When he came at her again, she decided to have a bit of fun. Instead of tearing him a new one, as her instincts urged her to do, she dodged the weapon, pulled his arm around himself, and slammed the nails through his shirt so that he was pinned to the pillar beside him. The nails had gone all the way in, so he wouldn’t be getting free easily.

  Then she pulled the rest of his shirt up and over his face, kicked another attacker away, and made three quick scratche
s across the first man’s stomach. The result was a smiley face of blood.

  Robin was at her side in an instant, pushing back another attacker with her knife raised when Valerie said, “Wait!”

  With a look of confusion, Robin glanced at the smiley face, then frowned. “Don’t tell me this place has gotten to you already?”

  “In what way?” Valerie asked, turning to toss another attacker onto the stage. She followed in a blur, holding him down with a foot to the throat as she slashed through the bound man’s ropes to set him free. She lifted the second man from the stage by his heel and threw him onto the cross, turning as his machete came her way. With a smile, she broke the assailant’s wrist, then jammed the machete into the cross at such an angle that it stopped inches from his neck. She did it so fast that neither of them recognized what was happening, and then kicked the original man so that he went flying into one of several booths that lined the room.

  “This isn’t a game,” Robin shouted. “You want to teach them a lesson? Do it with blood!”

  Valerie looked at the three she’d dealt with so far while the others backed into the corner, gazing at her in terror.

  “No.” Valerie took the machete out of the cross, picked up the man and then held him before her, eyes inches from his. “You tell your friends that this is over. The old days are gone, and there will be order.”

  “This isn’t what we came for.” Rand joined Robin’s protest.

  Valerie shook her head. “No, but there’s a whole city here that needs to change. We can’t just let them continue like this.”

  “What’ll you do?” Robin yelled. “Save the whole world?”

  With a deep breath, Valerie released the man and said, “Go.” He did, along with the others—all but the one still struggling with his shirt. She considered Robin’s question, watching the man struggle. When she pulled the stick free to release him, he looked at her with horror and scampered off to join his friends.

  “Yes,” she stated, turning back to Robin again. “I will save the whole world if I can. But I won’t be alone. You will help me.” She turned to the others. “All of you will. Michael is doing his part, and Akio and Yuko. Terry-Henry Walton, and all the rest of them. We will save the whole world, one step at a time.”

  They heard shouting, then the sound of breaking glass. Fire spread into the room.

  Robin gave Valerie an “I told you so” look. “And if it burns before that happens?” Robin joined her on the stage. “What then?”

  Valerie shook her head, hoping the ones she had let go weren’t behind this. She motioned for Rand and Martha to go out the back door, and then followed with Robin.

  “Much of the world might indeed burn,” Valerie told her, watching the flames. When they had exited, she saw the group that had followed them and heard them shouting. “Those people and others like them might not make it, or they might change. But in the end, we will win. Out of the ashes, our new civilization will rise.”

  “You… You’re really out there.” Robin shook her head. “But we’re following you, so it’s your call.”

  Looking between the crowd and the city, barricaded walls not far off now, Valerie made up her mind. “Leave them alone for now. We’ll find your parents, then I’ll deal with the rest of this mess.”

  Robin nodded and Valerie felt a surge of warmth from the woman. “Thanks,” it said, even if Robin wasn’t in a place emotionally to say it out loud.

  “This way.” Rand gestured for them to follow.

  As they ran Valerie was aware of eyes on them, but the people in the shadows neither called out nor attacked. Perhaps they were the ones she had let go, or maybe they were different crazies.

  She didn’t know how to stop all of this. Hell, she had no idea what needed to be done. But she knew the world couldn’t continue on this trajectory, and that if she wasn’t the one making a change, nobody would.

  It was a heavy weight to carry, but with the powers Michael had bestowed on her she would manage.

  CHAPTER SIX

  New York

  Blue light filtered in through the window, which Sandra took to mean she had woken either in the early hours of the night or late the next morning.

  She found a bowl of fruit and took an orange, then made her way to the window and stared out as she ate it. How many other people in this city were staring through their windows at this same moment? It struck her as the thing to do nowadays, since the state of their city and life in general left much room for contemplation.

  People were still moving around and the lights were bright in the distance toward Capital Square, so she figured it was night.

  The others hadn’t returned yet, and were probably tossing a few back as she just sat there being pregnant. At least Diego and Felix could serve as the designated fighters, if it came to it. The fact that they were Weres meant their healing powers would counteract the alcohol before it got too out of hand. And Garcia was a big boy. He could certainly drink his share, but seemed smart enough to know when to slow down.

  She took a shower and changed her clothes, thinking she would go for a quick walk for fresh air. The night sky was clear with no rainclouds in sight; only a few white wisps in the distance.

  The hallway’s lighting was dim, though at least it wasn’t flickering in some horror-story way, but when she reached the elevator she opted to take the stairs instead.

  To her surprise, when she opened the door at the bottom of the stairs she found someone there she hadn’t expected to see anytime soon. Jackson.

  “I take it you’re looking for me?” she asked.

  He stood, hands clasped in front of him, and nodded.

  “Val’s long gone, if that’s what—”

  “It’s not about her. She had to go, I get it. I’ve moved on.”

  “She’s not the type you move on from so easily.”

  He chuckled. “No, she’s not. But honestly, I’ve met someone. This visit isn’t about all that though, it’s about Loraine.”

  “The teen you were mentoring?”

  “The same.”

  Sandra stood there waiting for him to go on until finally he said, “Oh, and the baby thing? Congrats!”

  “You heard?”

  “I keep my ear to the walls, you know.”

  “The baby thing.” She laughed. “Exactly. So how can I help you with Loraine?”

  “She’s been getting into trouble, and I didn’t know who else to go to.” He glanced over his shoulder as if someone were watching them, then leaned in. “She’s gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd.”

  “The definition of “wrong crowd” could be a bit murky with you.” Sandra wasn’t even sure if she was buying this, let alone giving a crap about his problems. Then again, from the little interaction she’d had with Loraine, she knew she liked the girl. With a sigh, she asked, “What kind of crowd are we talking here?”

  “Have you heard of the New Wave?”

  She frowned and nodded. The name had come up in recent briefings, but she had simply brushed it off as some kids trying to start trouble.

  “It’s not like the other groups we’ve had problems with in the past,” Jackson went on. “The New Wave believes that Weres and vampires are the next evolution. They practically worship the UnknownWorld, even want to sacrifice themselves for the chance of evolving, as they put it.”

  “Well, shit.” Sandra put a hand on her belly, thinking an apology for her unborn having to hear her talk like that—assuming it could hear. “I’m not sure I can help.”

  “Of course you can. You know Weres and vampires. You’re the human with the most inside knowledge. More than anyone I know, at least. I mean, you were besties with Val, and now this thing with Diego.”

  “This thing is a baby,” she snapped with a scowl. “And the more you speak, the less I want to help you. But yeah. We should find her, then I can try and talk some sense into her.”

  “Thank you.” He threw his arms around her. “It’s not like… I don’t kno
w. She’s not really my responsibility, but she’s kinda become like a little sister.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out. Hell, we figure everything else out, why not a teenage girl joining a cult?”

  He cocked his head. “I’m not sure if that was a joke, but I’m not quite in a jokey mood about this yet.”

  “Right. Sorry.” She gestured for him to lead the way, and followed.

  The night had a cool breeze, pleasant and not enough for a coat to be necessary. It rarely was, but sometimes the wind would blow between these buildings and chill you to the bone.

  From the corner of her eye Sandra thought she saw someone watching her, but when she looked there was no one there.

  Jackson glanced back, worried, but she shook her head. “It was probably nothing. Any idea where this group could be? This New Wave?”

  “Honestly, I hate to admit it, but I followed her once.”

  “And?”

  He looked sheepish as he confessed, “We went toward where I used to tutor her, and then—”

  “Lost them?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, let’s start there, then.” They started walking, but after a few minutes she paused, heart racing. “How do I know this isn’t a trap? It’s been a while since I have seen you, then you come out of the blue like this.”

  “That’s the first you thought of it?” he asked. “It should have gone through your mind before you left the building with me so you could’ve decided on it right away.”

  “Yeah, well… Call it groggy pregnancy brain.”

  “If I were trying to hurt you, I wouldn’t be doing it like this. I would’ve just followed you on one of your evening strolls—yes, I’ve seen you around—and attacked you then. Or taken you somewhere to attack you.” He waved his hands at himself, as if to show he was really there. “This is all me right now, no deception.”

  She pursed her lips, then nodded. “Yeah, and if you tried anything, Diego would snap you in half. So okay.”