by Amy Cross
“From two...” She sighed as she used her knee to open her bedroom door. “Ask the Sentinel, or ask my father. Or I'll fill you in later. Right now, I -”
“It shouldn't be here,” O'Malley said firmly, grabbing her arm. For the first time, there was a hint of genuine fear in his charred, reddened eyes. “The Sentinels are supposed to watch the edge of town, but they're under strict orders not to break the perimeter themselves. That Sentinel is countermanding direct orders by coming anywhere near this house!”
“So go tell it,” she replied, before pausing. “Can I talk to you later?”
O'Malley stared at the Sentinel for a moment longer, until finally turning to her. “Me? Why?”
“I have so many questions,” she continued, “and I'd really appreciate some honest answers.”
“Are you sure you shouldn't speak to -”
“I want to ask you,” she replied, interrupting him. “Dad only tells me what he wants me to hear. He thinks he can protect me by hiding the truth from me. I need to talk to someone who'll be honest with me, and right now you're the only option.” She waited for a reply. “Please, O'Malley. You know I'm right.”
“Fine,” he said after a brief pause. “It's sad that you can't talk to John about these things, but I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Just...” Another pause. “I'll be totally honest with you, Izzy. About everything. There might be things you don't like hearing, things that upset you or -”
“I can handle that,” she told him. “I just need to know the truth.”
As Izzy headed into the bedroom and pushed the door shut, O'Malley made his way to the railing and looked down at the hallway, where John was cautiously talking to the Sentinel and asking about its orders. The creature's head was glowing slightly, and the lettering all over its face was constantly shifting, displaying fresh information in a language that for most people was nothing more than a relic of a long-forgotten world.
“Why the hell would a Sentinel care so much about Izzy Farmer?” O'Malley muttered finally, watching the Sentinel with a flicker of concern. “This is getting out of control. Time to call in some reinforcements.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Monsters!” Rita gasped, sitting up suddenly and looking across the room.
“Easy, there,” Izzy replied, taking a glass of water from the bedside table and holding it out for her. “There are no monsters. Well, not unless you count...”
Her voice trailed off for a moment.
“Not unless you count me.”
Rita took a sip from the glass, while eying her cautiously.
“So do you remember what happened at the mall?” Izzy asked.
Rita paused, before nodding. “I peed my pants 'cause I saw a clown, and Mom got mad and made me walk home in my own mess, and then she told all her friends about it on the phone.”
She froze for a moment.
“Oh, you mean what happened at the mall tonight?”
She paused again.
“Yeah,” she said finally. “I remember. Maybe I'll be able to forget, though, if I really work on it.”
“I don't know what we're supposed to do next,” Izzy continued, trying to ignore the sense of fear in her chest. “There are two dead...” She closed her eyes, holding back tears. “There are two dead bodies there. I saw... Oh God, I saw Violet's head actually getting... It was like the Sentinel ripped her apart, piece by piece.” Opening her eyes, she wiped away the first tear, but more quickly followed.
“No kidding,” Rita replied. “Plus, Annabel ended up going over the...”
She frowned, remembering the strange figure that had shown up and apparently dealt with Violet.
“I just hope they were dead already. Like, they didn't feel it. I think something else was controlling them, but who the hell was that guy who showed up and helped us?”
“It's a Sentinel,” Izzy replied, “and yeah, it creeps me out too. I can't even begin to explain any of this. I'm just sorry you got caught up in it all.” She sniffed back more tears. “It's okay, though. It's not your problem, and I don't think there's any danger of it following you once you leave. Now you're awake, you should just get out of here as quickly as possible.”
“And leave you to deal with it alone?”
“I'm not alone. I've got my father, and O'Malley, and apparently the Sentinel.” She paused. “It's all true,” she added finally. “What I told you earlier, about the whole vampire thing. I guess I have to find a way to deal with it.” Getting to her feet, she made her way over to the mirror above her dresser, and she took a moment to wipe her eyes. “I'd appreciate it if you could not tell people about me, at least for a few days. Just until I can get out of town. I understand if you can't hold back, though. I won't blame you if you shoot your mouth off.”
Hearing no reply, she turned and saw that Rita was simply watching her with a frown.
“What?”
“You're a...” Rita swallowed hard. “You're really, truly a...”
Her voice trailed off.
“Apparently,” Izzy replied, feeling a knot of fear in her chest. “I'm still kinda wrapping my head around it all.”
Climbing off the bed, Rita winced as she felt a pain in her ribs.
“Again, I'm really sorry you got caught up in this,” Izzy continued. “That wasn't fair.”
“Seems like you're caught up in it too,” Rita pointed out, gasping as she tried to take a few steps away from the bed. Leaning against the desk, she let out a slow groan. “I feel like I got hit by a truck.”
“My father didn't see fit to fill me in on any of this when I was younger,” Izzy continued, with a trace of bitterness in her voice. “He says he thought he was protecting me, but I think he was just a coward. He took the easy way out. He should have prepared me.”
“Parents, huh?” Rita muttered. “Who'd have them?”
“At least yours didn't hide the fact that you're a different species.”
“Fair point,” Rita replied. “I always thought I had it bad, but...” She sighed. “My mother's an alcoholic. And a major-league hoarder. You should see our house, she never throws anything away.”
Izzy looked at the collection of bottle-tops, pieces of metal and small stones that were hooked all around Rita's waist. Even with the belt having been discarded earlier, there was plenty of junk still attached.
“This is equipment!” Rita said defensively. “This isn't hoarding, this is actual stuff that might be useful some day!”
“Sure it is,” Izzy replied with a faint smile.
“It is! My mother's the hoarder, not me!”
“So you don't have about thirty bent nails in your jacket pocket?”
“They might be useful one day!” Rita said firmly, before sighing. “Fair point, dude. Maybe a little of it might have rubbed off.”
“At least you can stop if you want,” Izzy replied, turning and looking at her reflection in the mirror. After a moment, she bared her crooked fangs and felt a shudder as she realized there was no hiding from them. “They're not even straight,” she pointed out. “Even other vampires are gonna think I'm a freak.”
“You wanna know about being a freak?” Rita asked. “I could tell you about...”
She paused, muttering something under her breath.
“You're not a freak,” Izzy told her, leaning closer to the mirror so she could get a better look at her fangs.
“Yeah, well... You don't know everything about me.”
“Like what?” Hearing no answer, Izzy glanced at her and saw the extreme discomfort in Rita's eyes. “What are you talking about? Why would anyone think you're a freak?”
“I have...” Rita sighed. “Damn it, I am so going to regret showing you.”
“What?”
“Can you keep a secret?”
“I don't think I'm the one who -”
“Just promise you won't tell anyone!” Rita said firmly. “This is really goddamn embarrassing, okay? So you have to promise!”
“More embarras
sing than a pair of crooked fangs?”
“Yes!” Rita hissed. “At least fangs are cool! At least being a vampire is kinda cool! But what I have...” She sighed again. “I'm not anything like you, so don't go jumping to conclusions. I'm just a human, but I do have this... weird... thing.”
Izzy waited for her to continue. “Show me,” she said finally.
“This stays between us.”
“Deal. Both ways.”
Rolling her eyes, Rita still seemed a little uncertain.
“I won't tell a soul,” Izzy continued. “Seriously, no matter what it is, it can't possibly be as big as the secret I'm asking you to keep!”
“Turn around.”
“Why?”
“Just turn around, while I... Just turn around!”
Turning, Izzy frowned as she heard Rita unzipping something. She desperately wanted to glance over her shoulder and see what the big fuss was about, but she figured she should probably request Rita's plea to look away, at least until the time was right.
“I genuinely can't imagine what the big deal is,” she said after a moment, as she heard Rita shuffling about. “Are you sure you're not making a mountain out of a molehill?”
“I'm only showing you this,” Rita replied, with a hint of fear in her voice, “so you understand that you're not the only one with something weird as part of her body.”
“Okay, but -”
“And you have to promise not to laugh.”
“I promise.”
“You have to really promise. I've never shown anyone else, not outside my family and my doctor, not on purpose. I just figure you, of all people, might understand, and might benefit.”
“I really promise, but -”
“Okay. Turn around.”
Izzy paused, before turning.
She frowned as she saw that Rita's trousers had been unzipped and were now around her ankles, while she was holding the sides of her underwear.
“Um... Rita, if -”
Sighing, Rita turned around and pulled the back of her underwear down a little, just enough for a long, thin pink tail to slip free.
“What,” Izzy whispered, “the hell...”
“It's a tail.”
Izzy swallowed hard, watching as the seven or eight inch long, hairless appendage dangled down from a spot just above Rita's butt.
“I... can see it's a tail...”
“I'm not a werewolf,” Rita said through gritted teeth, “or any other weird kind of thing. I'm just human, and this is just a vestigial tail. All human babies have a tail for a while in the womb, but it gets, like, absorbed into the body as they grow. Or it's supposed to get absorbed. In a very, very tiny number of cases it survives through to birth, and I'm just one of those very lucky people who ended up keeping theirs.”
Izzy stared for a moment, genuinely not knowing what to say.
“Can you wiggle it?” she asked eventually.
“No!” Rita snapped, before pausing. “I can flex it slightly.”
The tail flicked upward a little, before falling still again.
“Can I touch it?” Izzy asked.
“No!” Turning, Rita tucked the tail away and then pulled her pants back up. “No-one's ever touched it, apart from a doctor once! Mom won't pay to have it removed, but as soon as I can save up enough money, I'm having the damn thing chopped off!”
“Why?” Izzy asked.
“Because it's a tail!”
“It's kinda -”
“Don't say cute!” Rita replied. “It's not cute! That's a lame thing to say! How would you feel if I said your crooked little fangs are cute?”
“I was gonna say it's cool.”
“That's not a whole lot better!” Rita pointed out, her face bright red as she blushed. “Well, now you have something on me. You were worried I'd blab about your secret, now I've given you leverage.”
“You didn't have to do that,” Izzy replied, unable to hide a faint smile.
“I wanted you to trust me.”
Izzy paused for a moment. “We just fought off two... I don't know, possessed girls from school. You could have turned and run, but you didn't. Trust me, I trust you.” She swallowed hard. “Maybe you're the only person I can trust right now.”
“Did you find out what happened at the mall? What was going on with Violet and Annabel?”
“I'm going to talk to O'Malley later.”
“What about your father? Can't you ask him?”
“He wouldn't tell me. He only doles out the information he thinks I need to know. Even then, he has a tendency to leave things out.”
“You should give him another chance.”
Izzy shook her head.
“Go talk to him,” Rita continued, stepping closer and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Always talk to people you love. One day, you might suddenly find that they're gone and you can't talk to them ever again.” She paused for a moment. “Trust me on that.”
Izzy opened her mouth to argue with her, before realizing that there might be a kernel of truth in her advice.
“I want you to come with me,” she said finally, turning and opening the door. “I want you to hear everything I hear, 'cause I really need to know what you think about it.”
“Fine, but don't you go telling anyone about my... extra thing,” Rita said cautiously.
Izzy turned to her, and after a moment they shook hands.
“Deal,” they both said at the same time, before Izzy smiled and heading out into the corridor.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“What are you doing here?” O'Malley asked, stepping closer to the Sentinel as it remained in position at the foot of the stairs. “I thought your orders were to remain at the town's perimeter. Sentinels are not permitted to challenge their orders!”
He watched as the symbols on one side of the Sentinel's face changed slightly.
“Clause nine doesn't justify this type of behavior,” O'Malley continued, clearly a little irritated. “You must return to your post at once!”
A smaller set of symbols shifted on the Sentinel's forehead.
“Nonsense!” O'Malley hissed. He checked over his shoulder, to make sure no-one was close enough to overhear, before stepping closer to the Sentinel and looking up at its face. “You're going against your training and your orders. I've been involved in the creation of Sentinels, I know how you work. If I didn't know better, I'd be tempted to say that your organic components are asserting themselves.”
He waited, but this time the symbols remained static.
“I'm right, aren't I?” O'Malley continued, with a hint of wonder in his voice. “I always told the others this was possible. I said it was a mistake to use fallen soldiers to create Sentinels.”
The symbols changed slightly.
“Why?” O'Malley asked.
Three of the symbols flickered and moved.
“That makes no sense,” O'Malley continued with a frown, before sighing. “Fine. If you insist on switching to speech protocol, go ahead.”
“I believe it is the only way to explain,” the Sentinel replied, as the faint glow returned to its head. “The written language of the ancient vampires lacks certain -”
“Why are you here?” O'Malley asked firmly. “Why did you abandon your station and come to protect the Farmer girl?”
“I have seen her before.”
O'Malley hesitated for a moment. “When? Where?”
“I believe it was before I...” The Sentinel paused. “My organic component, the dead warrior whose body was used to create me... I still have access to his part of the race memory, I can still recall things that happened to him before he died.”
“Izzy Farmer is sixteen years old,” O'Malley replied. “You died many... I mean, the soldier whose body was used to create you... He died thousands of years ago.”
“And yet he saw Izzy Farmer once,” the Sentinel explained. “I have analyzed the encounter several million times over the past few hours, and I have come to the conclusi
on that he and Isobel Farmer experienced a rare but documented phenomenon involving the race memory.”
“You think Izzy saw you in her dreams, and you saw her in return?”
“It is not completely out of the bounds of possibility.”
O'Malley paused for a moment, trying to imagine whether such a thing could really happen.
“Her mind is immature,” he muttered finally. “Chaotic. If, in her dreams, she sensed the presence of the Sentinels, it's possible that her race memory latched onto one of you. Then, as the dream progressed, she might have witnessed a moment of your old life.”
“I believe she witnessed my death,” the Sentinel replied calmly. “When I was a vampire, I was killed by a spider at the edge of the Gothos plain. There was a girl there too, at the end. She was the last thing I saw before the spider crushed my chest.”
“The race memory is a complex phenomenon,” O'Malley continued, “and not one that is entirely understood. Still, there are times when it becomes more than a memory, when it can be experienced by all parties...” He paused, watching the Sentinel for a moment before finally taking a step back. “You feel compelled to protect Izzy. I understand that. Your organic component still holds sway, and asking you to fight against that impulse would be pointless.”
“Clause nine, along with clauses eleven, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen -”
“You don't need to explain,” O'Malley added. “I'm sure deep in that complex mind of yours, you've managed to justify every action.”
“My calculations suggest that Isobel Farmer would not have successfully defended herself at the shopping mall tonight,” the Sentinel replied. “Without my intervention, there is a 99.8% chance that she would have been taken to the forest and delivered to RaYuul, along with a 99.9% chance that her associate Rita Callow would have been killed. Additionally -”
“That's fine,” O'Malley muttered. “I get it. You saved her, and you're determined to save her again.” He stared at the Sentinel's face for a moment. “I thought I knew everything about the Sentinel program,” he continued finally, “but you've surprised me today. You've shown that the organic component can have a greater influence than I deemed possible. I shall have to take that into consideration, going forward.”