Читать книгу: «The Eternity Cure», страница 5

Jackal stepped up, smirking, and I fought the urge to kick him in the shin. “Looks like we’re on the right trail,” he stated, pointing to a hatch in the center of the box that had already been pulled open. “After you.”

Pulling my sword, I dropped through the hatch, landing inside the rectangular box, finding these doors shoved open, as well. Beyond the opening, a long hallway ended at two thick metal doors.

Jackal hit the floor beside me, his duster settling around him, and straightened, giving the entrance a shrewd look. “All right, you bastard,” he muttered, walking forward. “What were you looking for down here?”

We went through the doors together, pushing them back, and stepped into a dark, chilling room. At first, it reminded me of the old hospital where Kanin and I had stayed in New Covington. Beds on wheels sat against the wall, sectioned off by rotted curtains, or lay tipped over on the ground. Shelves of strange instruments were scattered about, and bulky machines sprawled in the middle of the floor or in corners, knocked down and broken. Glass clinked under our feet as we maneuvered the maze of rubble and sharp objects,

I looked closer and saw that most of the beds had leather straps dangling from the sides, thick cuffs to restrain wrists and ankles. Pushing aside a moldy curtain, I jumped as a skeleton grinned at me from a bed, rotten leather restraints hanging on bony wrists. My stomach turned as I stared at the naked bones. What had happened here?

Jackal had already moved on, searching the hidden corners of the room, so I continued along a wall until I found another door. Unlike the others, this one didn’t swing open at my touch. Why was it locked when none of the other doors had been? I braced myself and then lashed out with a kick, aiming for just beside the doorknob. There was a sharp, splintering crack, and the door crashed open.

It was an office, at least, it looked like one from the shelves and metal cabinets and large wooden desk in the corner. Unlike the rest of the lab, this one looked fairly clean and intact; nothing looked broken, and the furniture, though old and covered in dust, was still standing.

Except, there was a suspicious-looking dark spatter on the wall behind the desk and, when I walked around, I discovered a skeleton slumped in the corner, the threads of a long, once-white coat still clinging to him. One bony hand clutched a pistol.

Wrinkling my nose, I turned around and noticed a single book lying in the middle of the desk. Curious, I walked over and picked it up, examining the cover. It didn’t have a title, and when I flipped it open, messy, handwritten pages sprang to light, instead of neat rows of typing.

Day 36 of the Human-Vampire experiment, the top line read.

All power is being redirected to keeping the lab up and running, so I am writing down my findings here, in case we lose it all. Then, if something happens to me, perhaps the project can continue from the notes I will leave behind.

We continue to lose patients at an alarming rate. Early tests with the samples from the New Covington lab have been disastrous, with our human subjects dying outright. We have not had a single patient survive the infusion of vampire blood. I hope the team in New Covington can send us samples we can actually work with.

—Dr. Robertson, head scientist of the D.C. Vampire Project

I shuddered. So, it sounded like the scientists here had been working with the New Covington lab, only they’d been experimenting on humans instead of vampires. That couldn’t be good. I flipped a couple more pages and read on.

Day 52 of the Human-Vampire experiment,

The power grid in the city has gone down. We are running on the emergency backup generators, but we might have had our first breakthrough today. One of the patients that we injected with the experimental cure did not immediately die. She became increasingly agitated and restless minutes after receiving the injection, and appeared to gain the heightened strength of the vampire subjects. Interestingly, she became increasingly aggressive, to the point where her mental capacities appeared to shut down and she resembled a mad or rabid animal. Sadly, she died a few hours later, but I am still hopeful that a cure can be found from this. However, some of the younger assistants are beginning to mutter; that last experiment rattled them pretty badly, and I don’t blame them for wanting to quit. But we cannot let fear hinder us now. The virus must be stopped, no matter what the cost, no matter what the sacrifice. Mankind’s survival depends on us.

We’re close, I can feel it.

A chill crawled down my spine. I turned the page and kept reading.

Day 60 of the Human-Vampire experiment,

I received a rather frantic message today from the lead scientist at the New Covington lab. “Abort the project,” he told me. “Do not use any more of the samples on human patients. Shut down the lab and get out.”

It was shocking, to say the least. That the brilliant Malachi Crosse was telling me to abandon the project.

I’m sorry, my friend. But I cannot do that. We are close to something, so very close to a breakthrough. I cannot abandon months of research, even for you. The samples that came in yesterday are the key. They will work, I am sure of it. We will beat this thing, even if I have to inject my own assistants with the new serum. It will work.

It must. We are running out of time.

I swallowed hard, then turned to the very last entry. This one was blotched and messy, as if the author had written it in a great hurry.

The lab is lost. Everyone is dead or will be dead soon. Don’t know what happened, those monsters suddenly everywhere. Malachi was right. Shouldn’t have insisted we go through with the last experiment. This is all on me.

I’ve locked myself in my office. Can’t go out, not with those things running around. I only hope they don’t find a way back to the surface. If they do, heaven help us all.

If anyone finds this, the remaining samples of the retrovirus have been placed in freezer number two in cryogenic storage. And if you do find them, I pray that you will have better success than I, that you will use them to find a cure for Red Lung and for this new monstrosity we have unleashed.

“Hey.” Jackal appeared in the doorway before I could finish the entry. He jerked his head into the hall, serious for once. “I found something. And I think you’d better see this.”

Taking the journal, I followed him, already suspecting what I would find. We swept through another pair of metal doors, into a small, bare room with tiled floors and walls. It was colder in here; if I were a human, my breath would be billowing out in front of me and bumps would be raised along my skin. Looking across the room, I saw why.

Four large white boxes stood along the back wall. They looked like bigger versions of normal refrigerators, except I’d never seen a working one before. One of the doors was open, and a pale mist writhed out of the gap, creeping along the ground.

Silently, I walked up to the door and pulled it back, releasing a blast of cold. Inside, rows of white shelves greeted me. The shelves were plastic and narrowly spaced, and tiny glass vials winked at me from where they stood in tiered holders.

Jackal stepped behind me. “Notice anything … missing?” he asked softly.

I scanned the shelves, and saw what he meant. Near the top, one of the layers was gone, as if it had been pulled out and never returned.

Jackal followed my gaze, his eyes darkening. “Somebody took something from this freezer,” he growled. “None of the others are touched. And that someone was here recently, too. Now, who do you think that could be?”

I shivered and stepped back, knowing exactly who it had been. As I shut the door, my gaze went to the simple, hand-drawn sign taped to the front, just to confirm what I already knew.

Freezer 2, it read in faded letters.

Sarren, I thought, feeling an icy chill spread through my veins. What the hell are you planning?

“Well,” Jackal muttered, crossing his arms. “I will say I am officially more disturbed than I was when we first started. I don’t know what was in that freezer, but I can hazard a pretty good guess, which just seems all kinds of bad news.” His voice was flippant, but his eyes gleamed dangerously. “There’s no cure here, that’s for certain. So, I guess the million-dollar question is—what would a brilliantly insane psychotic vampire want with a live virus, and where is he taking it now?”

Sarren had the Red Lung virus. The thought was chilling. What did he want with it? Where was he going? And how did Kanin figure into everything? At a loss, I looked down at the forgotten journal, at the unfinished entry on the last page.

I pray that this can be stopped. I pray that the team in New Covington is already working on a way to counter this. The lab there was designed to go into stasis if anything happened. It may be our only salvation now.

May God forgive us.

And I knew.

The journal dropped from my hands, hitting the floor with a thump. I felt Jackal’s eyes on me, but I ignored him, dazed from the realization. If Sarren wanted to use that virus, there was only one other place he could go. The place I’d sworn I would never return to.

“New Covington,” I whispered, as the path loomed unerringly before me, pointing back to where it all began. “I have to go home.”

PART II

CHAPTER 5

There were no spotlights up on the Wall.

In New Covington, the Outer Wall was the city’s shield, lifeline and best defense, and everyone knew it. The thirty-foot monstrosity of steel, iron and concrete was always lit up at night, with spotlights sliding over the razed ground in front of it and guards marching back and forth up top. It circled the entire city, protecting New Covington from the mindless horrors that lurked just outside, the only barrier between the humans and the ever-Hungry rabids. It was the one thing that kept the Prince in power. This was his city; if you wanted to live behind his Wall, under his protection, you had to consent to his rules.

In my seventeen years of living in New Covington, the Wall had never once been abandoned.

“Something is wrong,” I muttered as Jackal and I stood on the outskirts of the kill zone, the flat, barren strip of ground that surrounded the Wall. Pits, mines and coils of barbed wire covered that rocky field, making it deadly to venture into. Spotlights—blinding beams of light that were rumored to have ultraviolet bulbs in them to further discourage rabids from coming close—usually scanned the ground every fifty feet. They were dark now. Nothing moved out in the kill zone, not even leaves blowing across the barren landscape. “The Wall is never unmanned. Not even during lockdowns. They always keep the lights on and the guards patrolling, no matter what.”

“Yeah?” Jackal scanned the Wall and kill zone skeptically. “Well, either the Prince is getting lazy, or Sarren is wreaking his personal brand of havoc inside. I’m guessing the latter, unless this Prince is a spineless tool.” He glanced at me from where he was leaning against a tree trunk. “Who rules New Covington anyway? I forgot.”

“Salazar,” I muttered.

“Oh, yeah.” Jackal snorted. “Little gypsy bastard, from what Kanin told me. One of the older bloodlines, prided himself on being ‘royal,’ for all the good it did him here.” He pushed himself off the tree and raised an eyebrow. “Well, this was your city, once upon a time, sister. Should we walk up to the front gate and ring the doorbell, or did you have another way in?”

“We can’t just walk across the kill zone.” I backed away from the edge, heading into the ruins surrounding the Wall, the rows of dilapidated houses and crumbling streets. There were still mines and booby traps and other nasty things, even if the Wall wasn’t being patrolled. But I knew this city. I’d been able to get in and out of it pretty consistently, back when I was human. The sewers below New Covington ran for miles, and weren’t filled with rabids like the Old D.C. tunnels. “The sewers,” I told Jackal. “We can get into the city by going beneath the Wall.”

“The sewers, huh? Why does this not surprise me?” Jackal followed me up the bank, and we wove our way through the tall weeds and rusted hulks of cars at the edge of the kill zone, back into the ruins. “You couldn’t have mentioned this on the way?”

I ignored him, both relieved and apprehensive to be back. It had taken us the better part of a month, walking from Old D.C. across the ravaged countryside, through plains and forest and countless dead towns, to reach the walls of my old home. In fact, it would’ve taken us even longer had we not stumbled upon a working vehicle one night. The “jeep,” as Jackal called it, had cut down our travel time immensely, but I still feared we’d taken too long. I hadn’t had any dreams to assure me that Kanin was still alive, though if I concentrated, I could still feel that faint tug, urging me on.

Back to New Covington. The place where it all began. Where I’d died and become a monster.

“So, you were born here, were you?” Jackal mused, gazing over the blasted field as we skirted the perimeter. “How positively nostalgic. How does it feel, coming back to this place as a vampire instead of a bloodcow?”

“Shut up, Jackal.” I paused, glancing at a broken fountain in front of an apartment complex. The limbless cement lady in its center gazed sightlessly back, and I felt a twinge of familiarity, knowing exactly where I was. The last time I’d seen New Covington, Kanin and I had been trying to get past the ruins into the forest before Salazar’s men blew us to pieces. “I thought I was done with this place,” I muttered, continuing past the statue. “I never thought I’d come back.”

“Aw,” Jackal mocked. “No old friends to see, then? No places you’re just dying to revisit?” His mouth twisted into a smirk as I glared at him. “I would think you’d have lots of people you’d want to contact, since you’re so fond of these walking bloodbags. After all, you’re practically one of them.”

I stifled a growl, clenching my fists. “No,” I rasped as memory surged up despite my attempts to block it out. My old gang: Lucas and Rat and Stick. The crumbling, dilapidated school we’d used as our hideout. That fateful night in the rain … “There’s no one here,” I continued, shoving those memories back into the dark corner they’d come from. “All my friends are dead.”

“Oh, well. That’s humans for you, always so disgustingly mortal.” Jackal shrugged, and I wanted to punch his smirking mouth. All through our journey from Old D.C., he’d been an entertaining, if not pleasant, travel companion. I’d heard more stories, pointed questions and crude jokes than I’d ever wanted to know about, and I’d gotten used to his sharp, often cruel sense of humor. Once I’d realized his remarks were purposefully barbed to get a rise out of me, it was easier to ignore them. We did almost come to blows one night, when he’d wanted to “share” an older couple living in an isolated farmhouse, and I’d refused to let him attack them. We’d gone so far as to draw weapons on each other, when he’d rolled his eyes and stalked away into the night, returning later as if nothing had happened. The next evening, three men in a black jeep had pulled alongside us, pointed guns in our direction and told us to get in the vehicle.

It had not gone well for them, but we did end up with that nice jeep. And with our Hunger temporarily sated, the tension between Jackal and me had been defused a bit. Of course, I still wanted to kick him in his smart mouth sometimes.

But he’d never brought up New Covington or my years as a human until now.

“So very fragile, these bloodbags,” he continued, shaking his head. “You blink and another one has up and died. Probably better in the long run, anyway. I’m sure you got the whole you must leave your past behind lecture from Kanin.”

“Jackal, just …” I sighed. “Just drop it.”

To my surprise, he did, not saying another word until we reached the drainage pipe that led into the sewers. It was an odd feeling, sliding through the pipe, emerging into the familiar darkness of the tunnels. The last time I’d done this, I’d been human.

“Ugh.” Jackal grunted, straightening behind me, wringing dirty water from his sleeves. “Well, it’s not the nastiest place I’ve ever crawled through, but it’s definitely up there. At least they’re not in use anymore. From what Kanin told me, all the human crap in the city used to flow through these kinds of tunnels.” He grinned as I gave him a sideways look. “Disgusting thought, ain’t it? Kind of makes you glad you’re not human anymore.”

Without replying, I started down the tunnels, tracing invisible steps back toward the city.

We walked in silence for a while, the only sounds our soft footsteps and the trickle of water flowing sluggishly by our feet. For once, I was glad that I was a vampire and didn’t have to breathe.

“So.” Jackal’s low, quiet voice broke the stillness. “How did you meet Kanin? It was here, right? You never told me much about you and him. Why’d he do it?”

“Do what?”

“Turn you.” Jackal’s eyes glowed yellow in the darkness of the tunnel, practically burning the side of my face. “He swore that he would never create another spawn after me. You must’ve done something to catch his attention, to make him break his promise.” Jackal smiled, showing the very tips of his fangs. “What made you so special, I wonder?”

“I was dying.” My voice came out flat, echoing down the tunnel. “I got caught outside the Wall one night and was attacked by rabids. Kanin killed them all, but it was too late to save me.” I shrugged, remembering the terror, the phantom pain of claws in my skin, ripping my body apart. “I guess he felt sorry for me.”

“No.” Jackal shook his head. “Kanin never Turned humans just because he pitied them. How many humans do you think we’ve watched die in horrible and painful ways? If he offered to make you immortal, he must have seen something in you that he liked, made him think you could make it as a vampire. He doesn’t bestow his ‘curse’ on just anyone.”

“I don’t know, then,” I snapped, because I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “What does it matter? I’m a vampire now. I can’t go back and change his mind.”

Jackal raised an eyebrow. “Would you want to?”

His question caught me off guard. I thought of my life as a vampire, an immortal. How long had it been since I’d seen the sun, let it warm my face? How long since I had done anything truly human? I realized I didn’t remember what real food tasted like anymore. The Hunger had completely infused my memories so the only thing I ever craved was blood.

And the most ironic thing? If Kanin hadn’t Turned me, I would never have met Zeke. But being a vampire meant I could never be with him, either.

“I don’t know,” I said evasively, and heard Jackal’s disbelieving snort. Of course, it was easy for him—he reveled in his strength and immortality, caring nothing for those he slaughtered along the way. A few months ago, I’d been so certain, but now … if it came back to that night, lying in the rain as my life slowly drained away, and a vampire asked me, once more, what I wanted … would my choice be the same?

“What about you?” I challenged, to get him off the subject. “Why did Kanin Turn you? Certainly not for your charming personality.” He snorted a laugh. “So how did you meet Kanin? You two don’t seem like you’d get along very well.”

“We didn’t,” Jackal said easily. “Especially at the end, right before we parted ways. I guess you can say I was his biggest disappointment as a vampire.”

“Why?”

He smiled evilly. “Oh, no. You’re not getting my story that easily, sister. You want me to open up?” He grinned wider and pressed close, making me uncomfortable. His voice dropped to a low murmur. “You’re going to have to prove that I can trust you.”

“You can trust me?” I pulled back to glare at him, feeling my fangs press against my gums. “You’re joking, right? I’m not the egotistical murdering bastard. I don’t toss unarmed humans into cages with rabids and let them rip them apart for sport! I’m not the one who put a stake in my gut and threw me out a window.”

“You keep harping on that,” Jackal said with exaggerated patience. “And yet, you are a vicious, murdering vampire, sister. It’s in your blood. When are you going to realize that you and I are exactly the same?”

We’re not, I wanted to snarl at him, but a noise in the tunnels ahead made me pause. Halting, I put up a hand and looked at Jackal, who had stopped, as well. He’d heard it, too.

We eased forward, quietly but not too concerned with what we might find. Rabids rarely came down here; the Prince had sealed off all entrances into the sewers except a few, for the sole purpose of keeping them out of the city. Occasionally, a rabid would wander down here, but never for long, and never in the huge swarms we’d seen in Old D.C.

As we rounded a corner, there was a shout, and a flashlight beam shone painfully into my eyes, making me hiss and look away. Raising my arm, I peered back to see three pale, skinny figures standing at the mouth of the tunnel, gaping at us.

I relaxed. Mole men, as they were called, had been nothing but urban legends to me when I was a Fringer, just creepy stories we told each other about the cannibals living under the streets, until I’d run into a group of them one night in the tunnels. They were not, as some stories claimed, giant hairless rat-people. They were just emaciated, but otherwise normal, humans whose skin had turned pale and diseased from a lifetime of living in dark sewers. However, the stories about mole men preying on and eating fellow humans weren’t entirely false, either.

That seemed a lifetime ago. This time, I was the thing they feared, the monster.

“Who are you?” one of them, a skinny human with scabs crusting his arms and face, demanded. “More topsiders, coming down to crowd our turf?” He stepped forward and waved his flashlight menacingly. “Get out! Go back to your precious streets and stop trying to invade our space. This is our territory.”

Jackal gave him an evil, indulgent smile. “Why don’t you make us, little man?” he purred.

“Knock it off.” I moved forward, blocking his view of the humans before he could kill them. “What do you mean?” I demanded, as the three mole men crowded together, glaring at us. “Are people from the Fringe coming down here? Why?”

“Vampire,” whispered one of them, his eyes going wild and terrified, and the others cringed. They started edging away, back into the shadows. I swallowed a growl, stepped forward, and the scabby human hurled the flashlight at my face before they all scattered in different directions.

I ducked, the flashlight striking the wall behind me, and Jackal lunged forward with a roar. By the time I’d straightened and whirled around, he had already grabbed a skinny mole man, lifted him off his feet and thrown him into the wall. The human slumped to the ground, dazed, and Jackal heaved him up by the throat, slamming him into the cement.

“That wasn’t very nice of you,” he said, baring his fangs as the human clawed weakly at his arm. “My sister was only asking a simple question.” His grip on the human’s throat tightened, and the man gagged for air. “So how about you answer her, before I have to snap your skinny neck like a twig?”

I stalked up to him. “Oh, that’s a good idea, choke him into unconsciousness—we’re sure to get answers that way.”

He ignored me, though his fingers loosened a bit, and the human gasped painfully. “Start talking, bloodbag,” the raider king said. “Why are topsiders coming down here? I’m guessing it’s not because of your hospitality.”

“I don’t know,” the mole man rasped, and Jackal shook his head in mock sorrow before tightening his grip again. The human choked, writhing limply in his grip, his face turning blue. “Wait!” it croaked, just as I was about to step in. “Last topsider we saw … he was trying to get out of the city … said the vampires had locked it down. Some kind of emergency. No one goes in or out.”

“Why?” I asked, frowning. The human shook his head. “What about this topsider, then? He probably knows. Where is he now?”

The mole man gagged. “You … can’t talk to him now, vampire. His bones … rotting in a sewer drain.”

Horror and disgust curled my stomach. “You ate him.”

“Oh, well, that’s disgusting,” Jackal said conversationally, and gave his hand a sharp jerk. There was a sickening crack, and the human slumped down the wall, collapsing face-first into the mud at our feet.

Horror and rage flared, and I spun on Jackal. “You killed him! Why did you do that? He wasn’t even able to defend himself! There was no point in killing him!”

“He annoyed me.” Jackal shoved the limp arm with a boot. “And there was no way I was going to feed on him. Why do you care, sister? He was a bloodthirsty cannibal who probably killed dozens himself. I did the city a favor by getting rid of him.”

I snarled, baring my fangs. “The next human you kill in front of me, you’d better be ready for a fight, because I will come after you with everything I have.”

“You’re so boring.” Jackal rolled his eyes, then faced me with a dangerous smile of his own. “And I’m getting a little tired of your holier-than-thou act, sister. You’re not a saint. You’re a demon. Own up to it.”

“You want my help?” I didn’t look away. “You want your head to stay on your neck the next time you turn your back on me?” His eyebrows rose, and I stepped forward, my face inches from his. “Stop killing indiscriminately. Or I swear, I will bury you in pieces.”

“Yes, that worked out so well for you last time, didn’t it? And it seems we keep having this conversation. Let me make something perfectly clear.” Jackal, his eyes glowing a dangerous yellow, leaned closer, crowding me. I stood my ground. “If you think I’m afraid of you,” he said softly, “or that I won’t put another stick in your heart and cut off your head this time, you’re only fooling yourself. I’ve been around a lot longer than you. I’ve seen my share of cocky vampires who think they’re invincible. Until I rip their heads off.”

“Anytime, Jackal.” I reached back and touched the hilt of my sword. “You want that fight, just say the word.”

Jackal stared at me a moment longer, then smiled. “Not today,” he murmured. “Definitely soon. But not today.” He stepped back, raising his hands. “Fine, sister. You win. I won’t kill any more of your precious bloodbags. Unless I have cause, of course.” He looked down at the dead mole man and curled a lip. “But if they come at me with knives or stakes or guns, all bets are off. Now, are we going to head into the city, or were you planning to hold hands with these cannibals and have a sing-along?”

I glanced once more at the broken corpse, wondering if his people would come for him and what they would do with his body if they did. Shying away from those thoughts, I stalked past Jackal and continued down the tunnel.

The rusty ladder that led up to the surface was exactly where I remembered it, and I felt another weird flicker of déjà vu as I pushed back the heavy round cover and emerged topside. Nothing had changed. The buildings were still there, dark and skeletal, falling to dust beneath vines and weeds. The rusted hulks of cars, their innards gutted and stripped away, sat decaying along sidewalks and half-buried in ditches. The vampire towers glimmered in the distant Inner City, as they had every night before this. Familiar and unchanged, though I didn’t know what I’d expected. Maybe I’d thought things would be different, because I was so different.

“Huh,” Jackal commented as he emerged from underground, gazing around at the crumbling buildings, the roots and weeds that grew over everything and pushed up through the pavement. “This place is a right mess, isn’t it? Where is everyone?”

“Nobody stays out after dark,” I muttered as we walked through the weed-tangled ditch, hopped the embankment and strode into the street. “Even though the vamps force the Registered humans to give blood every two weeks, and have plenty of bloodslaves in the Inner City, they still go hunting sometimes.”

“Of course they do,” Jackal said, as if that was obvious. “What fun is feeding from bloodbags you don’t catch yourself? It’s like having a stocked lake and never fishing from it.”

I ignored that comment, nodding to the very center of the city, where the three vampire towers were lit up against the night sky. “That’s where the Prince lives. Him and his coven. They never come down to the Fringe. At least, I never saw them when I lived here.”

Jackal grunted, following my gaze. “According to vampire law, as visitors to the city, we’re supposed to check in with the Prince,” he muttered. “Tell him where we’re from, what our business is here, how long we’re staying.” He snorted and curled a lip. “I don’t really feel like playing by the little Prince’s rules, and normally I would say ‘the hell with it,’ but that’s going to be a problem now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I agreed. I could feel the pull that drew me toward my sire. It was faint now, flickering erratically, as if Kanin was barely hanging on to life, but it still pulled at me, right toward the three towers in the center of New Covington. “He’s in the Inner City.” I sighed.

“Yep. And we’ll probably run into Salazar’s men while we’re there. Could make searching for Kanin challenging if they decide we don’t belong.” Jackal grimaced as if speaking from experience. “Princes tend to be irrationally paranoid about strange vamps in their cities.”