Crisped + Sere (Immemorial Year Book 2) (25 page)

Cavalo crouched down on his knees, picking up a handful of snow. He rubbed it against his face to clean the blood away. It melted against his skin. He picked the gun out of the snow and turned back toward the people behind him.

There was a mixture there of awe and fear. Healthy doses of both, as it should be. All except for Lucas, who grinned crazily at him, eyes bright and teeth bared. It was ferocious, and it was all for Cavalo. He allowed himself to be consumed by it for only a moment before he pushed it away. They were out of time.

Cavalo submerged himself into the cold, feeling the little pinpricks pulling him under. It felt like coming home. When he opened his eyes again, everything was sharp and clear. The weight of metal in his hands. The breaths he took, slow and steady. The snow falling in crystals around him. The warmth of a body to his left, a line down his side. Others, to his right, stepping forward to stand next to him. His friend, down at his legs, a low growl pouring from his throat, head down toward the ground, back raised, tail stiff. All of it felt with a perfect clarity that came from the coldness as it closed over his head.

The Dead Rabbits poured in through the hole in the wall. They funneled, just as Lucas said they would. They were frenzied now, the smell of blood on the wind turning their instincts from human to animal. The moment they pushed through, roiling and writhing over each other, gunfire erupted from all around Cavalo. He felt the bullets zing over his head, his ears clouded by the sudden burst of sound around him.

One of the Dead Rabbits, a woman with muscular arms and no teeth, got hit in the shoulder, but it did little to slow her down. She burst forward, blood trailing behind her in the snow. Her mouth was open in a wide scream that Cavalo couldn’t hear. He pulled the trigger, the kick hard against his shoulder. She flew back, arms and fingers trailing behind her. Cavalo expended the shell.

The bodies began to pile up inside the hole. It was getting harder and harder for Dead Rabbits to push through, though they tried. It was not until it was almost too late that Cavalo saw the wall began to splinter farther down, coming apart with the force of an impact on the other side. He could hear them now, repeated strikes against the wall, and knew they were starting to break through. Only a second later, he saw a flash of an eye through the wall, and then the black barrel of a gun was pushed through. He pushed Alma toward Hank, hoping it was enough to get them out of the way. He grabbed a handful of Bad Dog’s fur, and he threw himself against Lucas who was prowling at his side, waiting for any Dead Rabbit to get close enough.

Lucas tensed underneath him, his body thrumming like a live wire. They all hit the ground, and Cavalo rolled them toward the side of a house just as a hail of bullets struck the snow where they’d been standing moments before. Bad Dog yipped at him in surprise. He pressed them both against the house and glared at them until they stopped struggling in his grip. He glanced to the right and saw the others across the courtyard, against another house. There was someone lying facedown in the snow, blood pooling around them, and Cavalo couldn’t make out who it was. One of the Patrol, from the way they were dressed. Dark hair. Conner? Was that his name? Conner?

It didn’t matter now.

What mattered now was that Frank, foolish and obstinate Frank, had gotten a taste of the fire in his veins, the rush of blood in his ears. He had one of the Bakalovs in his hands, and he was loading a fat shell into the underside of the rifle. It slipped in easily, and Cavalo screamed at him, but Frank didn’t hear. There was a brief pause, a temporary break in the hail of bullets, and Frank stepped out, a determined look on his face.

“
Don’t
!” Cavalo roared.

Frank stuttered, his finger slipping on the trigger. The 40 mm grenade that SIRS had flashed his eyes so smugly over fired at the gun sticking through the wall. Cavalo had to hand it to Frank; his aim was true. The shell hit the wall and exploded, less fire and more concussion. The wall rippled and cracked, already weakened from the first explosion. He heard Dead Rabbits screaming on the other side, and Frank looked triumphant. The look fell when the struts and supports of the wall began to crumble, crashing down onto the pile of dead and dying Dead Rabbits. Cavalo didn’t know why he thought the wall would have lasted longer. False hopes, maybe. Or maybe he thought he was finally owed a break.

Cavalo had not lied when he’d spoken to the town previously. He fully expected to die this day. But as the wall came down, he realized how much he didn’t want it to happen. How much he’d thought they’d actually win. That something would give and the skies would open up and the sun would shine and there would be no more death. There would be no more pain. There would be no more suffering. He hadn’t known he could still hope for such things. He knew it now as the wall came down.

Even before it’d finished crumbling, even before the large section had crashed to the ground, he turned and looked up at the second-floor window of the house behind him. Two men watched him with wide eyes. And from his lips came the only word he could say, no matter how much it burned. He hoped it would be enough.

“
Run
!”

They didn’t hesitate. He heard the call go up back through the town. They knew what to do. They’d planned for this, however futile it’d seemed at the time. He watched as the houses began to empty, people rushing toward the northern gate. He knew the remainder of the Patrol that stood as the last line would let them through and would follow them through the back gate and lead them toward the prison.

The snowfall grew heavier. Fat flakes swirled around them.

He knew this was it. This was probably the end of his long and fucked-up life. He had many regrets. Many things he’d wished he’d never done. He had murdered people in cold blood. He had taken that which did not belong to him. He’d betrayed others. He’d hurt them. If there was such a thing as hell, Cavalo would surely descend on it once his body had been torn apart.

He laughed then. Long and loud. At the absurdity of it all. This life.

A hand on his shoulder. He looked over at Lucas and grinned. His skin felt too tight on his face. He felt lost in the bees but was certain of one thing, though he couldn’t find a way to put it into words. He turned to Lucas and thought,
I regret almost everything I’ve ever done. But I will never regret you.
Instead, he said, “You ready?” as the Dead Rabbits spilled into Cottonwood with a roar.

Lucas nodded.

Cavalo stood, sliding up the side of the house. Alma and Hank and the others stood with him on the opposite side of the courtyard. He felt Lucas rise behind him as he stepped out from behind the house to face what was coming.

A group of Dead Rabbits. Their faces painted. Covered in blood. Gore streaked their arms. One looked like the heavy tumor hanging from his right arm had burst, leaking dark fluids. Another’s eye was hanging by a thread on her cheek. And another was crawling toward them, hand outstretched, legs broken and bent at odd angles. These were the monsters, Cavalo knew.

He screamed. In fury. For all those who had died. For Deke, who he knew they would not get to bury. For his wife, who was nothing more than a tree in the middle of a haunted wood. For his son, who could slip between the veil of this world and the next. For all the others. For all the others who’d died because of the choices Cavalo had made.

He fired the shotgun, a snarl on his face.

Bad Dog howled and launched himself, teeth flashing white.

Lucas spun his knife once and arced it out away from his body. A Dead Rabbit screamed as his fingers fell into the snow.

Hank roared and smashed his heavy fists down into a man’s face, breaking nose and teeth.

Aubrey rolled as a man brought down an ancient scythe, the blade inches from her head. She grabbed an arrow out of her quiver as she stood and brought it up and through the bottom of the man’s jaw, pinning his mouth closed as the arrowhead entered his brain.

A woman grabbed Alma from behind, arms wrapping around her chest to pull her away. Another man ran forward to grab her legs. Alma kicked herself up from the ground, smashing her feet into the man’s face, lying back against the woman. The man fell. Alma rolled away and the woman lost her grip. Alma stood above both of them and pointed a pistol at the woman’s head. There was no hesitation as she fired. The man said “No,” and Alma fired again.

Bill and Richie stood back to back, firing over and over again as the Dead Rabbits descended upon them. Richie handed his dad a spare clip and kept firing.

Frank’s eyes went wide as the Dead Rabbit with the broken legs grabbed his ankle, teeth bared and ready to bite. He kicked the Dead Rabbit in the face, and the man began to convulse in the snow, arms and legs skittering, leaving trails of blood and dirt.

Gunfire went over their heads, and Cavalo jerked his head back, seeing the people trying to flee to the rear wall getting shot in the back. One fell, then two, and three and four and
five
and—

Cavalo cocked the shotgun and fired again, blowing a hole in the stomach of a woman who was about to stab Hank in the throat.

Bad Dog tore through flesh and muscle, jerking a leg until a Dead Rabbit fell.

Lucas moved as if he was dancing, spinning and sidestepping, arms out, eyes narrowed and knife bloody.

A man ran at Cavalo as he reloaded. Cavalo bent down, left shoulder forward. He thrust up as the man ran into him, flipping him up and over his back. Cavalo spun as the man landed on his back in the snow, but before Cavalo could shoot him, Lucas brought down the knife into the man’s chest, the blade scraping against bone. The man’s head jerked forward, his eyes bulging. A bubble of blood burst at his lips, a light spray misting over his face as Lucas pulled the knife out and brought it down again and again.

And still they came. More and more and more. He saw them up on the walkway now, farther down the wall, unsure of how they got there. There was no sign of Patrick, and Cavalo wanted to tear his head from his shoulders.

And then they started to lose.

Hank shouted in surprise when a knife went into his shoulder.

He heard Aubrey cry out as a bullet punched through her arm.

Alma grunted as a man with no teeth grabbed her by the hair, pulling her back, baring her throat.

Bad Dog whined sharply when he was kicked in the side.

Lucas fell back when he was struck in the head with a heavy wooden club.

Bill and Richie were backing against a far wall, clips gone, using their guns to bat away reaching hands.

Frank fell to his knees in front of a man who looked vaguely like Cavalo’s father. Cavalo thought,
No, Dad, don’t
, when the Dead Rabbit stood above him, smiling a terrible smile. Frank died when the smiling Dead Rabbit shoved a knife into his chest and another into his mouth. As Cavalo watched the tip of the blade crack the back of Frank’s skull, he knew they’d lost. Frank fell back, and his sightless eyes stared up into the thickening snow.

The bees told him to run.

The bees told him to fight until he fell.

The bees told him to kill them all.

The bees told him to save those who were left.

They screamed so loud Cavalo thought the snow globe that stretched out beyond the sky above would shatter and glass would rain down upon them, and they would be no more. And when Cavalo looked over his shoulder, his bones aching, his face covered in blood and dirt, he saw his son standing near the back wall, skipping with Mr. Fluff hanging from his hands. He laughed and dodged through those who remained in Cottonwood, standing and waiting for Cavalo’s orders, bodies tense and eyes wide. Jamie looked over at him and cocked his head, wiggling his fingers at Cavalo.

He said, “Daddy. It’s time to go.” Even above all the noise and the thundering of his own heart, Cavalo heard him loud and clear. He didn’t know if his son was a ghost of mind or madness, but it didn’t matter. He was right. They’d lost. They had to go.

“Fall
back
!” he cried as he fired the shotgun again. His breath was knocked from his body as he was tackled from the side, the shotgun knocked from his hands. He felt hot breath on his neck, the shark clack of teeth snapping near his ear. He tried to shove the heavy body away, but it was too much, and a tongue scraped against his ear, and he heard, “Yes, this one is mine, mine because you taste so
good
—” before the Dead Rabbit was lifted from him and pushed away. Cavalo sat up and saw Lucas stabbing his attacker again and again, his face tight in the grips of rage. Cavalo rose to his feet and pulled Lucas off him. Lucas struggled in his arms, snarling silently, the knife slicing the air.

“No time,” Cavalo breathed in his ear.

Lucas stopped and stood on his own. He ran his eyes over Cavalo once, making sure he hadn’t been hurt. He nodded tightly, then picked up a discarded rifle off the ground. He jerked his head toward where Hank and the others had started running.
Go! Now!
He opened fire, a spray of bullets knocking down the approaching Dead Rabbits.

Cavalo didn’t want to leave him, but he had no choice. They had planned for this, as much as they could. They had one last chance to get out of here safely, one last chance to get to the prison. He ran, Bad Dog close at his heels. The wind picked up around him, the snow stinging against his face. He passed by the bodies of those who hadn’t made it out of Cottonwood. He thought there were twenty of them, maybe more. Facedown in the snow, arms stretched out as if reaching for the wall they’d come so close to passing through.

It’ll be easier this way
, the bees said, sounding like the killers he knew they were.
Fewer of them means less time it’ll take to get to the prison. Fewer of them means fewer people
in
the prison.

Since Cavalo was submerged in murder, he took cold satisfaction from this. Shreds of his humanity tried to sing him home, but he was too far gone right now. There’d be time for regret later. If he survived.