by D. S. Murphy
He waved a hand for me to come join the class, but I crossed my arms and leaned back against the bench. I wasn’t in the mood to fight, and I hated the idea of giving this group of child-assassins any extra knowledge. Master Svboda’s class had been a dojo to me, almost a temple. I’d spent weeks learning how to fight and defend myself, generally getting my ass kicked. I wasn’t going to perform for this bastard’s sick pleasure.
“Come on,” he said. “We’ll make it a fair fight. A drop of elixir each.”
Camina stiffened next to me.
“Make it two and you’ve got a deal,” she said, standing up.
“Jacob isn’t going to like this,” Marcus said.
“Then don’t tell him,” Steve sneered.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said, reaching for her arm. The elixir had healed her wounds, but I could tell from her pale, sweaty skin that she was still wrestling with the addiction, which would slow her down in combat.
Camina smirked at me. “He shot you. The least I can do is punch him for you. Besides, I won’t get better by sitting around. It’s time to get back to training.”
Camina tied her hair into a ponytail and stretched her arms and neck, before climbing over the short wall into the enclosed rink. She was nearly as tall as Steve, but without all the muscle, which made her look frail next to him. He took out a small vial with an eyedropper and placed two drops on the back of his hand before lapping it up with his tongue, like a cat cleaning its paws. He did the same for Camina. She frowned, keeping her eyes on Steve as she licked the blood off her skin, staining her lips red.
Then they circled each other slowly. They both moved quickly, with precision, testing each other’s defenses. Steve struck first, jabbing with strong blows, but Camina swatted each strike away before ducking under the last and slapping Steve on the butt, making the kids laugh.
He turned and charged, this time going for her center of mass. She boxed his ears as he tackled her to the ground, lifting her off her feet and slamming her down on the hard floor. Before he could pin her, she wrapped a leg around his neck and twisted until she was on top of him. She got in one good punch before he tossed her to the side. She rolled to her feet, and rather than waiting, attacked with a flurry of kicks aimed at his stomach and chin. He blocked most of them before grabbing her leg and lifting her up against the wall, forcing her to her knees with his arm around her neck.
“As you can see, children,” he said, spitting blood from his split lip. “When given equal doses of elixir, the strongest fighter will usually win.”
I stood up, about to charge into the rink, but Camina winked at me before dropping all of her weight down and breaking the chokehold. She jabbed a pressure point in Steve’s thigh, cramping his whole leg, then swept him off his feet with a scissor kick. He banged his knee hard and let out a groan of pain. Camina kicked off the short wall and did a flying roundhouse that connected with Steve’s chin and sent him sprawling across the floor.
“Unless,” Camina said, dusting her hands, “you’re smarter and better-looking than your opponent. Then you can use his weight and overconfidence against him.”
The kids clapped their hands as Steve staggered to his feet, glaring at her with murderous rage.
“Good match,” Camina said, offering her hand. “Let’s call it a draw.”
Steve hesitated for a moment, glancing at the kids. Camina was offering him a way to save face, and he knew it.
“Guess you got more training than I expected,” he said, shaking her hand.
“You should see what I can do with a spear,” she said. “To be fair, you picked the wrong opponent. Some of the girls really are just a pretty face, with a few months of combat training. But I’m from Iklebot. I’ve been fighting monsters my whole life. It’s in our blood.”
I was relieved the fight was over. We’d been trained to protect the elite, not fight them. Using elixir for sport and practice, training kids how to kill elite, felt wrong somehow. But something else was bothering me.
“Where are you getting the blood from?” I asked suddenly, eyeing the red stain on Camina hand. Trevor blanched and curate Marcus looked guilty. I could tell they were keeping something from me. Something big.
“I mean it’s not straight elixir, it’s elite blood, right? How did you get so much of it? You couldn’t have stolen it.”
“Tell her,” Marcus said finally, not meeting my eye.
“We caught one,” Trevor said, rubbing the back of his neck. “One of the elite. We keep it locked up.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. The idea that there was an elite somewhere in this building made the hair on my arm stand up. What if it was someone I knew, someone I recognized?
“Show me,” I said. Marcus sighed and I trailed after him. We went deeper into the complex, past several checkpoints with guards, before emerging in some kind of underground parking lot.
“She’s in there,” Marcus said, pointing at a large truck. He shrugged when I raised my eyebrows.
“It was a freezer truck for transporting meat,” he explained. “Thick walls, no handle on the inside.” He hefted the handle, raising the wide door to the back of the truck. The cell wasn’t what I expected. Large chains had been bolted into the walls, attached to a thin figure lying on a soiled mattress, covered in filth and grime, her face nearly black from dirt.
Anxious thoughts rattled nervously in the back of my mind, and my skin crawled. Something about this was all wrong. The elite had long dark hair and was smaller than I’d expected. A woman. There were a few in the citadel but I hadn’t had much contact with them. She raised her head, catching my scent, then pulled weakly against the chains. She hissed, raising her lips to display her sharp teeth. Despite her red eyes, matted hair and prominent fangs, I recognized her instantly.
It was Penelope. Back from the dead.
4
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Penelope was still alive. Somehow, she’d survived the king’s forced execution. She was still wearing the yellow gown from her execution, though it was torn and stained a deep reddish brown, from blood, dirt or worse.
I stepped towards her but Trevor grabbed my arm and held me back.
“When we found her,” Marcus said quietly, “she was barely alive, more animal than human. She tore through three armed men before we took her down.”
“But how is it even possible?”
“We think Tobias must have slipped her elixir somehow, as he killed her, or before.”
“I saw it,” I realized, sucking in a quick breath. “He stabbed her, but then he kissed her – there was blood on her mouth.”
“He must have passed it to her then, a lot of it. Stop the heart, then flood the body with elixir. That’s the way to make an elite.”
“But she was part of the resistance,” I said. “She was chosen, and helping you. How can you treat her like this?”
“Whatever she was before, she isn’t now. She’s an elite. She needs blood to survive, lots of it. Let’s just say that nobody down here is volunteering for the job.”
“It kind of goes against everything we stand for,” Trevor added. “If we ask for blood donors, to keep alive an elite, there’d be a riot. Honestly if the people even knew she was down here, it would be a major thing. They’d want her head.”
“The only thing that can save her now is the antidote,” curate Marcus said. “If we find it, and Dr. Liu can make it work, we can make her human again – then she’ll be safe here.”
I frowned, biting my lip.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Trevor asked. “Something you didn’t tell us before.”
“It might be nothing.”
“Do you know where it is?” Marcus asked, holding my shoulders.
“Yes,” I said. “I think so.” It was only a guess, but the vision I’d seen had been of a cemetery, like the one in Algrave but heavily overgrown. There was only one abandoned compou
nd that I knew of.
“Then let’s go get it,” Trevor said, holding my gaze.
“When do we leave?” I asked.
“Nobody is leaving,” Jacob said, sweeping into the room with half a dozen armed guards behind him.
“It’s too dangerous,” he added. “At least right now. I have no doubt the woods are thick with king’s guards, searching for you. If it’s been buried for decades, whatever it is, it can wait until things have died down.”
“Quandom is abandoned,” I said. “I don’t think they’ll look for us there.”
“Where did you hear that name?” Jacob asked, like I’d just uttered a secret curse. His stride faltered and he leaned to the side, his eyes wide.
“I’ve been there,” I said. “Damien took me. I’m sure that’s the vision I saw. If the antidote exists, it’s in Quandom.” I sounded more confident than I felt, but I had to do something. The longer I stayed at Havoc, the less comfortable I felt; and now that I knew they were holding Penelope captive, like some kind of rabid animal, I wouldn’t be able to sit around and wait for something to happen.
“You’re trusting that your elite husband isn’t luring you back to him. He planted that scene your mind; it could be fake, or a trap. Maybe he let you leave, just so you could lure the rebel forces into an ambush.”
“Fiancé,” I corrected, “and I don’t think that’s going to happen,” I said. But how did I really know. Why did Damien bring me to Quandom the first time. Was it all an elaborate ploy to earn my trust – was I bait to foil the rebel uprising?
I didn’t think so. He said he cared about me. The passion we’d shared, when he kissed me in the rain and ash, it felt genuine. But what did I know of love?
“We have to try,” Marcus prompted. “We’ve been here before; the elite are too fast, too strong. But if we could weaken them, if we could make them human again, we’d have a chance. John Patton started this rebellion in Quandom, let’s finish it there.”
“We don’t need help,” Trevor said. “Just a few men.”
“And women,” Jazmine said stepping forward. I hadn’t even seen her arrive, she must have followed the others.
“Do you really think you can find Quandom again?” Jacob asked. “You’ve only been there once, after all.”
“Yes,” I said, though I wasn’t too sure actually.
“She can’t just leave,” Steve cut in. “She knows our location.”
“You still don’t trust me?”
“Not even a little, bloodwhore.”
Trevor’s hands tightened into fists but Jacob raised his hands quickly to stop more violence.
“Fine,” Jacob said finally, clenching his jaw. “But one condition. You bring the chest back here. Everything you find. Hopefully it will be enough for Dr. Liu to start working on the antidote, and we’ll take things from there.”
In the end it was decided, Jazmine and I, Trevor and Luke would go alone. We could see if the trunk even existed. I knew Camina would want to join us, but she was still recovering from the fight and needed rest.
“One more thing,” Frank added, as the crowd dispersed. “This time, you’ll be better equipped.”
He jerked his head and we followed him to an armory, filled with clothing, weapons and equipment.
Frank gave each of us a small vial of elixir, around 10 drops, which would have cost nearly a fortune in the compounds, if it wasn’t so forbidden. The penalty for possession of unauthorized elixir was death. I raised my vial, holding it up against the light. It was cloudy and dark, unlike the pure elixir I was used to; probably processed from Penelope’s blood. I clenched it in my palm before tucking it into my pocket.
“Don’t use it all at once, if you can help it. The thirst will be too great and you might turn on each other for more. A drop or two under the tongue. Five drops and you might be able to run from a slagpaw – at least in theory. If you see an elite, you hide. Going up against them is suicide. This is a recon and retrieve mission only.”
“Got it,” I said.
“However,” Frank continued, “I’m authorized to check out weapons for missions, and we’ve been developing something new.” He held up something that looked like a flashlight.
“UV rays, highly concentrated. Hit them right in the face from close range, and it may be enough of a distraction.”
“And then we also have these,” he said, running his hand over a row of long black assault rifles. There was even a box of grenades.
“It’s old school warcraft,” Frank said. “Very powerful, very dangerous. The problem is, they only work if you get the drop on them. If the elite hear, see, or even smell you first—which they almost always do—they’ll kill you before you even know they’re there. And, of course, the guns are loud, and will give away your position immediately. Guns of any kind are forbidden outside the citadel, so if you use them, they’ll find you.”
“Last resort,” Trevor nodded, shoving a pistol in the back of his pants.
“For stealth, spears and swords are the best option, or a good knife if you can throw one. But only if paired with significant elixir, otherwise you’re unlikely to get out of a scuffle with a slagpaw alive.”
“Pretty,” Jazmine said, pulling a pair of curved daggers with ornate handles from a wall mount.
I hefted a compound bow and filled my quiver with wooden arrows. I also found a swordbelt, which I strapped around my hips.
Luke took a long spear with a dangerous looking barbed end.
Finally, we picked out matching survival gear; dark gray and black canvas and leather, with hoods, hats and masks for the ash that hid everything but our eyes.
Luke stopped near the entrance to talk with Steve and Jacob about something while curate Marcus said a quick blessing under his breath, waving his fingers like a magic wand. Then it was time to go.
The masks were different from the one I’d used in the citadel. Less flattering, more mechanical and homemade. It looked like some kind of car engine mixed with a pacifier. I took a few experimental breaths as we came up through the tunnels towards the exit and met the first burning flakes.
The city was deathly silent, apart from the slight rustle of leaves in the wind and the occasional metal groan from one of the derelict buildings. Even in the capital, the hum of the purification engines was constant, and the older engines in the compounds were easily twice as loud. I’d grown up with so much white noise, I’d learned to tune it out. Without it, the silence seemed menacing; a reminder that we were in the wild, where slagpaw stalked prey and the poisoned air could kill you. It was hard to believe there were thousands of humans hiding just under our feet. No wonder they never got discovered.
I held my bow ready as we stuck to the shadows, moving between the abandoned cars and beneath a large bridge, before hopping across stones over a small stream. We took a different route this time. It was hard to keep track of directions in the metal maze, without being able to see the mountains. We passed through a long, dark tunnel, emerging on the side of a hill with the valley spread before us.
“Which way?” Trevor asked, once we’d finally cleared the toppled structures. It was a relief to be back on solid ground again, instead of clambering over mounds of concrete. I breathed in deeply through the mask, trusting it to filter out the toxins, and was rewarded with the faint scent of pine needles and soil.
I could see the city, behind us to the left, and make out the pointy spikes of the citadel through the ash in the distance. Somewhere to the right, I think, would be Algrave, but I couldn’t see it. Now that I had my bearings and could orient myself, I studied the citadel, looking for the exit we’d taken last time. It had taken nearly an hour on Damien’s motorcycle. Walking was going to take all day.
“You don’t know, do you?” Luke scowled.
“Shut up,” Trevor said, handing me a pair of binoculars.
I found where I thought the road we’d taken should be, a sliver running through la
ndscape, and traced the path through the woods with my eyes. Squinting through the binoculars, I searched for the abandoned settlement. I paused when I found a thin meadow, a barren spot on the landscape where trees wouldn’t grow.
“There,” I said, pointing to it.
“That’s probably about eight or nine miles away,” Trevor said, taking the binoculars from me. “We should get there this evening, if we hurry.”
We jogged down the hill and into the woods, avoiding the abandoned highways and sticking to smaller roads or cutting through the thick forests when necessary. Part of me was relieved to see the sky again, after days under ground. Even though it was full of ash, and I had to keep my mouth and nose covered, it still felt liberating to be out from under all that steel and concrete.
We were making good time, and were probably about halfway there, when we heard a scream. I tensed, drawing my bow and looking behind me—but it wasn’t one of us.
“We can’t help them,” Luke said. “Whoever it is, it’s not our problem. And if it’s an elite or slagpaw, they’re probably already dead.”
“That sounded close though,” Jazmine said. “Shouldn’t we check it out at least?”
“I agree,” I said, nodding to Trevor. He rolled his eyes at me. “Shouldn’t we be moving away from danger? We’re on a top secret mission, critical for the survival of the human race, and you’re going to risk it all to save some stranger?”
“If we don’t help the weak and defenseless, maybe humanity doesn’t deserve saving,” Jazmine said. I caught her eye and nodded.
We ran through the woods in the direction of the screaming. It didn’t take us long to find the source. A group of merchants were running in circles around a wooden cart, in the middle of a flat stretch of road.
I drew my bow, but couldn’t see anything to shoot at.
“What is it?” I asked.
There was something strange about them, something dark fluttering around their heads. I thought they were bats or birds at first, but they moved too slowly, tumbling like fuzzy leaves.