Petrified City (Chronicles of the Wraith Book 1)

Home > Other > Petrified City (Chronicles of the Wraith Book 1) > Page 14
Petrified City (Chronicles of the Wraith Book 1) Page 14

by S. C. Green


  “Should be able to?” Malcolm narrowed his eyes as he stared down at the gun Cory held out to him.

  “I’ve tested them in a variety of simulations,” Cory explained, sounding nervous.

  “I’m sure you have.” Malcolm snatched the weapon from Cory’s hands. “But these aren’t simulations.”

  “Dangerous or not,” Dorien said, glowering at Malcolm. “We have a job to do. These wraith are killing everyone they come across. If we don’t stop them, they’re going to empty this city of life and break through the wall that confines them.”

  Several of the Reapers exchanged glances. I could read their thoughts in their eyes. Why should we stop them? Why should we not be free of this cursed dome?

  I had to admit, it was a bloody good question. But I knew in my heart it wasn’t right. We knew now how strong the wraith truly were, and that was with them living inside a fishbowl where their power was contained. If they were able to gorge themselves on the energy out in the world ...

  There must be a way to destroy the wraith and the dome. We just had to figure it out. But one problem at a time.

  “The last two shifts have had some luck,” Dorien said. His face appeared tired and drawn. His new duties must be wearing on him. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “We’ve managed to cut up four of the wraith into a good twenty pieces each. Another two have been blown to smithereens by Cory’s grenades. Even with the Mimir in their possession, it will take some time before they return to bother us. By our best estimates, there are less than a hundred and eighty-five wraith in total under the dome. We’re still superior in number, and we have the natural order on our side. These creatures aren’t supposed to be here. The underworld wants them back. It’s your job to bring them home.”

  “And how many Reapers have died?” Lucien demanded.

  Dorien’s face remained passive. “Just one.”

  “That’s one too many,” Malcolm said. No one argued with him.

  Dorien finished handing out the weapons, explained the route we’d be taking and the sector we’d be patrolling, then gave us the signal.

  Alain reached for me, squeezing my hand. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  I slung the weapon over my shoulder. “I was born ready. Let’s go.”

  With a swoosh of their cloaks, all the Reapers around me transformed into their raven forms, their wings churning up a stiff breeze as they flew toward the roof of the dome and sailed over the walls of the Compound. The only ones remaining behind were Dorien, May, Cory, and Alain. I remembered that I still hadn’t asked Alain about how they manage to shift with all their clothes and items. Now didn’t seem the right time.

  “Ladies first,” Alain said, gesturing toward the gates.

  “You aren’t going to change?”

  “Not tonight. It would draw attention to the fact you’re human.”

  I smiled. How sweet.

  May and I filed out into the street, followed by the men. We headed toward the Hub, following the line of black dots as the ravens flew toward the horizon, their sleek bodies diving low as they swooped between the crumbling high rises.

  Even for the Hub, the streets were empty. Trash piled at the edges of the buildings. Cars with their windows shattered sat, unwanted, in the parking spots, the meters between them smashed open—the coins inside long since squandered into the city’s criminal underworld. Usually there were at least a few people around, walking their expensive dogs or visiting friends with an entourage of security guards in tow, but today the city was eerily silent.

  After a couple of blocks, I learned why. Husks littered the road, the dried remains skidding across the asphalt as our movements disturbed them. Faces made of stone stared up at me, cheeks sunken, eyes and noses crumbled away, mouths open in silent terror. Their frozen hands clutched uselessly at the jagged wounds in their chests, their hollow bodies slowly returning to dust.

  I counted at least ten lying in our path. I picked my way around them, careful not to stand on any of them, remembering the sensation from my days in the prison of my boot sinking through the dry husks. It looked as though no one even bothered to sweep them away any longer.

  I stared up at the skyscrapers around me, noticing for the first time the petrification had spread this close to the Compound. The stately commercial facades bubbled with stone protrusions, and the sleek high rises cracked and crumbled as their very structure transformed.

  We rounded a corner toward the Palisade Apartments—a building I’d robbed at least eight times for the Dimitri clan—and halted. Three wraith were dragging a woman out of the broken glass doors of the lobby. She screamed and sobbed and grabbed at the jagged glass with her bare hands, desperate to delay her fate. But the wraith wouldn’t stop.

  Beside me, Alain’s breath caught in his throat. I realised he hadn’t seen the wraith manipulating objects in this way before. All three of the wraith wore bright red scarves.

  Behind her, a man and two other women fled down the street. In the apartments above, stricken faces pressed against windows. The wraith had hauled the screaming woman outside so others could see what they did to her. They were making a point, trying to spread terror.

  “Drop her!” Alain called.

  The wraith spun around, gaping mouths hissing in defiance. They dropped the woman on the pavement and advanced toward us.

  I met them with a beam of light from the particle gun, focusing the blast on the leading wraith. He broke into a run, leaping toward me. I gritted my teeth and stood my ground, my finger cramping on the trigger as I fed his body with a steady blast from the gun.

  Beside me, Alain changed with a whoosh, his body charging with fire. He rushed the wraith, flames curling from the sleeves of his coat. They wrapped around the ghoul’s arms and pulled it closer.

  They disappeared into a ball of flame. But the other two wraith kept on coming.

  One smashed into me with enough force to send us both hurtling backwards. I crashed onto asphalt, the wind knocked from my lungs. The wraith’s face hovered inches from mine.

  He wasn’t wearing his hat, but I recognised him instantly. It was the Mayor.

  “Greetings,” he hissed, his gaping black mouth yawning against my cheek.

  “Get … off … me.” I reached for my particle gun, but it wasn’t on my belt. I spied it lying on the ground over the wraith’s shoulder, just beyond my reach.

  The second wraith bent over and picked it up, turning it over in his hands before aiming it at May. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide.

  “I’ll take great joy in sssucking you dry,” the Mayor hissed, his breath like sandpaper on my skin. “Do not think I don’t recognise you, human who violated our home.”

  His hand plunged into my chest. My body went cold, ice shooting through my veins. Needles dug into my skin, drawing out the energy that lived inside me. I opened my mouth to scream, but I had no idea if I was making any sound. All I could hear was the pain thundering through my body.

  My vision darkened. The world around me faded, except the gaping black mouth rushing toward me, ready to swallow me whole.

  I’m sorry, Diana. I’m sorry I didn’t come home to you—

  Something hit my body, sending me skidding across the asphalt. The hand withdrew from my chest, sliding through my skin like a cold knife blade. I gasped and clutched at my chest, certain there would be a gaping hole there flaking with dust. But all that was there was a damp spot, a round sore with the edges hard as stone.

  I squinted up at the high rises and listened to my heart knock against my ribcage. Best sound ever. But I hurt. I hurt like ten thousand insects with icicle-tipped legs were needling through my frozen skin.

  “You,” the Mayor hissed as he faced off against May. “You hurt my brothers.”

  “Damn right,” she shot back. “And now it’s your turn.”

  Fire flared on May’s fingers. She held out her hand, sending a wall of flame at the Mayor.

  He opened his arms
and took it in, devouring the flames within his icy body. He threw back his head and laughed, a halting cackle that sounded like twigs burning.

  Alain appeared behind May, his flame-wrapped body barrelling toward her.

  My vision blurred again, and I gasped as the pain pulled me under. I stopped struggling against it and let it take me away.

  Then warmth cascaded down my legs, fighting against the ice, battling for possession of my body.

  Finally, the heat won, ripping through my chest and triggering my heartbeat with renewed vigor.

  “Sydney.” Alain held me to his chest, his face wet against mine.

  Behind him, the woman the wraith had dragged out huddled against the curb sobbing.

  “Is he gone?” I choked out, my shoulders heaving.

  May shook her head. “We’re not that lucky. He slipped away before we could do any real damage. The three of them have probably gone back to the Citadel to heal.”

  “But we’ve hurt him.” Alain lifted me to my feet.

  I leaned against him. “How?”

  “We combined our flames. Some Reapers can do that, and it appears May and I can, as well. Without the Mimir, we can’t take him to the underworld, but we can burn up his energy. It’s very painful. We nearly had him, but he’s just too powerful. He’ll be back. We’d better get moving.”

  May helped the woman to her feet. She sobbed loudly and leaned heavily against May. Her face was pale. May guided her toward the doors of the apartment building.

  “Eat this,” May said, pushing a small candy bar into the woman’s shaking hands. “Then run inside and hide.”

  Alain looked up and scowled. “Get away from the windows!” he yelled to the top of the buildings, shaking his fist up at all the stricken faces watching, like Romans awaiting the final decision of a gladiator battle. “Don’t give their cruelty an audience.”

  Blank faces stared back, unblinking, unmoving. Were they frozen with fear, or did they truly want to see? Was the slaughter in the streets the last great entertainment of their dwindling lives?

  “Can we find him again?” I asked Alain.

  “Unlikely,” he replied. “My guess is that he’s retreated back inside the Citadel to heal his energy reserves. We must—”

  He broke off as a bloodcurdling scream pierced the air. It was a male voice. And familiar.

  “Cory!” I yelled.

  We ran down the street, following the screams as they echoed off the towering structures. A cramp exploded down my leg, but I gritted my teeth and pumped my arms at my sides, pouring on more speed.

  We rounded the corner of the building. Cory was lying on the ground. A wraith was hitting him with a stream from his own particle gun. Another had its hand plunged into his chest, its blackened mouth peeled back into a wicked grin. Cory’s body convulsed.

  “No!” I shouted.

  Alain and May flared up, their flames wrapping around each other. I dropped to one knee, readied my weapon against my shoulder, and shot a stream directly at the wraith closest to Cory.

  It glanced up from its feast, and with a smile of triumph, twisted its arm inside Cory’s chest. With a last choking sob, Cory’s eyes glassed over. His hand fell to his side. His nose crumbled from his face.

  The wraith stood then turned, and the two of them zoomed away, their bodies a blur, faster than we could hope to catch them, likely returning to the Citadel to add Cory’s energy to their store.

  I dropped to my knees, cradling Cory’s head in my hands. Bits of his skin, now dry and crumbling like dust, flaked away in my hands. He felt cold. My chest clenched, and I tucked my chin in defeat.

  Where was Dorien? He and Cory were working as partners. So where had he gone?

  “What happened here?” Faintly through my grief, I recognised the voice of Malcolm. I glanced up to see him and Lucien racing toward us. They fell to their knees at Cory’s side.

  “Oh, shit no,” Lucien picked up Cory’s hand, studying his face while his own trembled with grief. “No.”

  Alain grabbed my shoulder, trying to pull me away. I didn’t want to leave Cory. I stayed put, tears flowing freely down my cheeks. He’d always been so patient with me while I trained with the wraith simulations. He’d guided me into the Citadel. Without him, I wouldn’t be here. Without him, what would the rest of the Reapers do? No one was as technologically gifted as he was.

  “That’s Cory’s father,” he said softly. “Leave him be.”

  “Where’s Dorien?” I cried. “Why didn’t he help Cory?”

  Alain shook his head. He clasped his hand over mine and drew me back, but I was too stricken to move. Cory’s body shrank down, his limp limbs retreating back within himself, black feathers pushing through his crumbling skin. In a few moments, all that was left of Cory was a pool of drying blood on the pavement, and a dead raven lying on its side.

  “When a Reaper dies, he reverts back to his bird form,” Alain said. He bent over and scooped up Cory’s body. “We were lucky you got to him so quickly. He has not yet been husked. We must hurry if we have any hope of moving Cory’s soul to the underworld without the Mimir.”

  “There is a way to do that?”

  “Maybe. If we act quickly. We will return to the Compound immediately.”

  WE RETURNED to the Compound with Cory’s tiny body. Alain laid him inside a small wooden box he dug out of a storage room. There were several of them stacked up against the wall, obviously for this exact purpose. I wondered how many Reapers had died since we’d been trapped inside the dome.

  Alain and Lucien laid the box in the middle of the courtyard, knelt beside it, and waited. I stood at the edge of the yard, between May and Diana, wanting to offer comfort but not sure if I should disturb them. Finally, I worked up the courage to step forward, but May held me back.

  “Don’t,” she said. “Alain is not here. He’s taking Cory to the underworld.”

  He was? But how could he do that, without the Mimir? I watched Alain’s face carefully. Some minutes later, he shifted, his eyes flicking open and an expression of deep sadness falling upon his face.

  Other ravens flew in. Some carried the ruined carcasses of their mates. Soon, Cory’s box was joined by five others.

  Six Reapers dead. Six souls to pass to the underworld.

  DORIEN WAS the first to leave the courtyard. I could see from the horror on his face it pained him to do so, but he probably had a hundred pressing matters to attend. As soon as I saw him enter the passage, I jogged after him.

  “Dorien?”

  He slowed his pace, his coat fluttering around his ankles as he glanced back over his shoulder at me. “What is it?” He asked, his voice weak and hoarse.

  “I know you have a lot on your mind right now, but I think …” I paused, wondering how much to explain. I decided to opt for the Reader’s Digest version. “I think someone might be targeting May. She’s vulnerable at the moment, and as the only Reaper woman, she would fetch a mighty price.”

  “Where’s this coming from?” He demanded, the edge creeping back into his voice. I knew he saw May as a daughter. “Have you heard something?”

  “Not exactly. I just … have a bad feeling. I thought you might be able to make sure her room is guarded.”

  “I’ll take care of it personally.” he swore.

  “You don’t have to do that, Dorien. You’re already doing too much. You need to sleep, too. Just have someone you trust watch her.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” He repeated, his eyes darkening. “I won’t let any harm come to her. You have my word.”

  IT WAS WELL into the morning before the vigil ended, but there was no comfort to be found. Alain explained that the Reapers were unable to drag their brothers’ souls back from the Citadel.

  “The soul is imbued in the energy the wraith take,” he said, gazing out the bedroom of his room. “It’s why we do not escort the souls of those who have been husked. They are beyond our reach.”

  I tucked the blanket on the bed
under my chin, suddenly cold. “You mean Cory’s soul is trapped in those orbs in the Citadel?”

  Alain nodded. “With enough focused power, we Reapers should be able to open our own gateway to the underworld, without the use of the Mimir. It would only work for the soul of one of our own. But the ritual has failed. The grip of the wraith on Cory’s soul is too strong. Without the Mimir, even all of us Reapers working together can’t pull him free.”

  “That’s awful.”

  He pushed his mouth into a grim line. “Because he’s a Reaper, he’ll be aware of everything going on. His soul could be split into a million pieces by the wraith as they dole out his energy, but he will still be sentient in every one. He will experience what the wraith experience, feel the flush of energy as they take life, endure the callousness of their minds.”

  “That sounds awful.”

  “For a Reaper, it’s the most unimaginable hell—” Alain’s voice cracked, and he turned away. He was silent for several moments, then said, “The only way to set Cory free is to destroy those orbs, to leak away all the energy the wraith have stolen. But I don’t see how.”

  “There has to be a way,” I said. “We just have to find it.”

  The door creaked. I looked over and saw Diana’s shadow inside the frame.

  “Can I sleep in here with you guys?” she asked, her voice thick with fear.

  I hesitated. Alain was in such pain. I knew he needed me badly. But Diana needed me, too, and she was first. She was always first.

  “Of course, Red.” I lifted the edge of the blanket. She crawled in gleefully, resting her head against my shoulder. Alain followed her, the two of them spooning against me.

  In a few moments, I heard Alain breathing deeply, his body rising with a shuddering rhythm. He was asleep. I stared at the bare wall opposite, thinking about Cory and about the conversation I’d overheard between Malcolm and May. I hadn’t had a chance to tell Alain, and now with Cory’s death weighing on him, I wasn’t sure if I should burden him further. Had I misheard or misinterpreted?

 

‹ Prev