Crisped + Sere (Immemorial Year Book 2) (28 page)

It burned. All of it burned. Cavalo felt as if he’d been lit on fire, his skin scorched and crisped.

“We’re dead,” Cavalo said. “All of us anyway. It’s only a matter of time. That’s all it ever was. It’s inevitable.”

But if he gets me, everyone else will be too. Dworshak is just the beginning. He’ll spread east like a plague until there is nothing left but bones and ashes.

“Why now?” Cavalo croaked.

Lucas looked back at him. He placed his hand over Cavalo’s, which still gripped his stomach. Their fingers fit together perfectly. He didn’t know why he’d never seen it before.
Because there’s no other choice. We made our stand. It didn’t work. Now it’s time to finish it.

“I won’t do it.”

I don’t need you to. I can do it myself.

“Why didn’t you, then?” Cavalo cried. “Save me from this goddamn bullshit!” His voice carried his anger, but it was fragile, and it cracked and broke.

Couldn’t leave it that way.
He squeezed Cavalo’s hand until he felt the bones grind together.
You.
He shook his head.
I couldn’t. Not yet.

“And now?”

Yes
, Lucas said maddeningly.
And now.

He was right, of course. No matter what Cavalo could say, Lucas was right. Logically, he was right. He was thinking beyond this room. Beyond the people huddled in the tunnels below. Beyond the prison and the little town of Cottonwood that Cavalo wasn’t sure still stood. If Patrick got what he was gunning for, none of it would matter. It would start with Dworshak. It would end with fire. It always did.

Lucas was right. Cavalo hated him for it. He hated himself too. That all of this had been for nothing. That these people, the people of Cottonwood, of Grangeville had died for nothing. It might not have mattered in the long run, but all he could remember were Deke’s last words about Mr. Fluff, the look on Hank’s face as his son’s blood leaked out before him. There might have been time for them. Before Cavalo had come.

“There’s nothing but hell for us,” he said quietly. “After.”

I know.
That’s the only thing that waits for people like us.

“We’ll burn.”

Yes. In the fire.

“I won’t be far behind you.” And he wouldn’t. Patrick would come with his Dead Rabbits, electrified fence be damned. It wouldn’t take long.

Lucas reached out and touched his face.

Then Cavalo said the hardest words of the long years of his life. “Will you wait for me? In the fire?”

Lucas kissed him. Kissed him the answer, and in the howl of desperation, Cavalo felt the song of relief course through him until he vibrated with it, the bees knocked from their swirling storm. His mind was clear and sharp for the first time since he could remember. It was consuming and bright, and it hurt far more than he thought it would. But it was because of the surety. It was because of the end, that inevitable end he knew he no longer had to avoid. They would go from this fractured earth and descend into the fire together. They would burn, and as the flesh fell from their bodies for all their sins, Cavalo would reach out and take Lucas’s hand in his own and allow the pleasure of burning to overtake him.

He gasped as Lucas broke the kiss, their foreheads touching, eyes locked.

I am dark
, Lucas said.

“I know.”

You took some of it away.

“I know.”

He felt Lucas reach down off the side of the cot, never looking away. His arm moved briefly, and then his knife was pressed into Cavalo’s hand. Cavalo remembered the first day he’d felt this knife on him, in the other side of the woods, the blade against his throat. He hadn’t felt fear then, not really, because he hadn’t cared if he lived or died.

Funny how things changed. So quickly. So easily.

He took the knife. He thought he felt himself start to break, but instead, he pushed himself into that cold where his killer lay sleeping, diving as far beneath the surface as he’d ever been before. When it closed up and over his head, he felt it chill him to the bone as the rage in him awoke and swallowed him whole. It was easier, this way. Here in the dark where everything felt like ice, he couldn’t bother with things like
emotions
. Any person he had ever murdered had come from this place, submerged and drowning but somehow still able to breathe. His father was lucky to have died when he did. Cavalo would have ended up killing him before too much longer.

The bees thrived here. He could feel them crawling along his skin, whispering promises to him that they could never keep. They promised to show him things if he stayed down below, and the killer in him laughed and said things like
yes
, and
I’ll stay. I promise I’ll stay
, even though Cavalo didn’t want to.

The knife was cold in his hand. The man below him was warm. It was a study in contrasts that Cavalo didn’t have time for. Not now.

His voice was steady and cool when he said, “Between the ribs. Into the heart. It’ll hurt, but only for a moment. Then it will be over.”

Lucas nodded.

And somehow, Cavalo broke above the surface, fingers and arms and face covered in bees, choking as they poured down his throat. His voice was harsh and broken when he said, “Are you sure?”

Lucas nodded.

Cavalo went back under.

He didn’t flinch when Lucas leaned up and kissed him gently on the mouth. He kissed him back because it was the right thing to do.

He could hear himself screaming inside his head.

He put the knife against the Dead Rabbit’s side and thought,
Maybe I should just follow him now. It’d be easier. And it’ll be my choice.

It was a coward’s way out. All of this was.

It’d be on his own terms, at least.

He almost felt bad when he thought of Bad Dog and SIRS finding them. Bad Dog would be heartbroken. SIRS would mourn. But he was so far under that they were nothing more than fleeting thoughts. He didn’t think any part of his skin was visible. He looked like a roiling mass of silvery wings and onyx stingers. He wondered if he would drown in them.

It had to be done now.

He just had to do it now.

He was on the precipice of a great thing. A momentous occurrence.

It was time for him to rise.

And just before he stabbed the knife upward into Lucas’s heart, the man named James Cavalo somehow managed to say, “I’m sorry. For everything.”

Lucas touched his face and said,
I would do it again. For this.

Cavalo thought,
NOW NOW NOW.

He thought,
NO NO NO.

His hand tightened on the knife.

NOW NOW NOW.

The muscles in his arms coiled.

NO NO NO.

He gritted his teeth and—

And an alarm went off.

The klaxon blared.

Cavalo’s breath punched its way out of his chest.

A light swirled red above the door to the tunnels.

Cavalo broke through the bees. Breathed the surface. He pulled the knife away because it was close. Too close.

He rose from the bed. Lucas followed him up. They stood side by side.

What is it?
Lucas asked. He looked as dazed as Cavalo felt. Almost like they’d woken from a shared dream to a cold reality.

“Proximity alarms,” Cavalo said. “They’re here.”

THEY DIDN’T
discuss the fact that Cavalo had almost killed Lucas at his request as they entered the tunnels. It was something lost in the bees. Cavalo knew all he had to do was take the knife back from Lucas and shove it into his chest, but Lucas was resolute at his side, the warrior pushing forward. They were done with that. For now.

People tried to stop them, to ask him questions (
who
and
what
and
why
), but Cavalo ignored them. Lucas growled silently when they tried to step in front of him, and they fell back, eyes wide with fear. The blare of the klaxon grated against Cavalo’s ears. He tried to shut it out but it was all he could hear.

He reached the steps that led into the barracks. More people waited for him at the top of the stairs. Always with their questions. It was disorienting, having so many here in his space. He wondered briefly if it’d be easier to sink back below the surface, but he wasn’t sure how many of them he would kill.

There was a man who grabbed his arm to get his attention, and Cavalo thought,
Arm down. Foot to kneecaps. Break them sideways. Hands to face. Gouge the eyes.
As the thoughts roared through the bees, he began to submerge himself and turned to kill the man who touched him and—

“Are they here?” Hank asked, voice getting through from somewhere off to the left.

Cavalo stopped, and the man who touched him dropped his arms, unaware that he’d almost died. He felt the brush of a hand against his. Lucas. The feel of weight against his legs. Bad Dog. He took a breath and let it out slowly.

Good?
Bad Dog asked him.
You smelled like bees.

Cavalo shook his head. “It’s okay.”

Bad Dog didn’t look like he believed him, but didn’t push it.

“Where’s SIRS?”

“In the back office,” Alma said, standing next to Hank. “Watching the monitors. It’s hard to see. They’re old and with the storm….” She looked away.

Cavalo looked toward the closest panel on the far wall. It was dark, meaning SIRS was controlling them, not allowing others to see what he could. It was better that way. Depending on what they could see.

He needed to get back there.

“Do we have a plan?” Hank asked.

Cavalo snorted, feeling slightly hysterical. “I think we’re past planning now.”

“This isn’t going to end well,” Hank muttered, and he sounded so much like Deke that Cavalo’s heart hurt. He pushed it away. He could worry about those he let die later.

“Keep everyone calm,” he told Hank and Alma. “Only the Patrol should be armed for right now. I need to go see what’s out there.”

“We know what’s out there,” Hank said in a low voice.

Cavalo said nothing as he pushed his way through the crowd. He didn’t know why SIRS continued to let the alarms ring through. He should have silenced them by now. People were starting to panic, and it was only making things worse.

People moved as he carved a path toward the rear of the barracks. Their questions mixed in with the alarm, and he curled his hands into fists at his sides to keep from lashing out. Lucas and Bad Dog were beside him, both baring their teeth until people moved.

He could see SIRS’s outline through the office window, hidden behind ancient plastic blinds that no longer pulled up. The door was shut. Screens flickered, but the robot did not move.

Before he could push on, Bill stood in front of him, looking harried. “The fences will stay up and running,” he said quickly. “We’ve got enough juice to keep them up and running at full power for at least a few days.”

Cavalo nodded sharply but pushed past him. They didn’t have time for this. Not now.

“Did you know your audio was out?” Bill called after him. “Fixed it for you. Don’t know why SIRS couldn’t have done that.”

And everything came to a halt.

He tried to breathe, but he couldn’t get his lungs to work.

The bees laughed.

He turned. “What?” he managed to ask.

Bill looked confused. “The audio. For the cameras and monitors. I noticed it was out. Wire had been cut. Stripped it and put it back together. Should be full audio now.”

No.

Everything slowed down around Cavalo. Colors bled together as he turned back toward the office. His heart was thunderous in his chest. He ran. He ran as fast as he could, but it was like moving through water, and he could hear SIRS in his head, the first words he’d ever said to him when Cavalo had stumbled upon the prison that dark night so very long ago.
Well, this certainly is a surprise. How lovely it is to see a human again. It has been such a long time. Now, state your business before I snap your neck and leave your body for the animals in the woods to pick at.

Even then, Cavalo knew SIRS was like him.

He ran toward his friend.

He hit the metal door to the office. It did not budge. He slammed his hands against it. And from inside, he heard voices.

“Robot.” A small voice, filled with static and rage.

“Yes, Father.” He’d never sounded more robotic.

Cavalo screamed for SIRS. Begged him.

“I was Rebekah’s nurse who died and was buried under the oak before Bethel.”

“Father, may I?”

“You may.”

Cavalo grabbed a rifle from a man he did not know and bashed the butt of it into the window. It did not shudder. It did not shake. It did not crack. Cavalo remembered once that SIRS had told him it was bulletproof.
To protect the guards
, he’d said.

The mechanical response: “But Deborah Rebekah’s nurse died, and she was buried beneath Bethel under an oak; and the name of it was called Allonbachuth.”

Cavalo turned the rifle around and shot the window. People screamed behind him as the bullet ricocheted.

And even above the noise, he could hear the final question, and his heart broke again and again.

“I was the star that fell when the third angel sounded.”

And Sentient Integrated Response System said, “And the third angel sounded, and there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp, and it fell upon the third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters.”

“SIRS!” Cavalo cried. His voice broke like glass.

“And the name of the star is called Wormwood; and the third part of the waters became wormwood; and many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter.”

“Don’t do this,” Cavalo whispered. “Please.”

“Robot.” Patrick sounded delighted.

“Yes, Father?”

“Do you know Lucas?”

“Ye-e-es,” SIRS ground out. “He is… my… there is no….”

“
Robot
.”