Crisped + Sere (Immemorial Year Book 2) (33 page)

“Get the pipe,” Cavalo snarled as he pulled the Dead Rabbit through the door. Richie scrambled through, tripping over the Dead Rabbit’s legs. He cursed as he skinned his hands on the floor. Then he was up and out. Cavalo propped the Dead Rabbit up against the wall, pushing him upright. He heard Richie drag the pipe back in. “Shut the door,” he said as the Dead Rabbit lolled his head to the side, grimacing.

Richie did, and they fell into darkness.

“Light,” Cavalo snapped.

Richie fumbled with his pack and pulled out a small electronic lantern, one of the few that had been left in the prison. Blue light spilled out into the room, and Richie moaned quietly.

Because Cavalo had been right about the reason the room smelled the way it did. Shadows crawled around the room, but enough light caught the five bodies in the corner, all huddled together, arms around each other. Two adults on the outside, curled in. Three children in the middle, flat on their backs. An old gun on the ground. Dark smudges splattered on the wall. The floor. Pieces of their ending flitted across Cavalo’s brain, but he was still drowning in the cold, and the bees pushed it away.

The Dead Rabbit groaned.

He knelt next to the Dead Rabbit, who watched him with wide, wet eyes. “Do you know who I am?” he asked quietly. Their faces were so close Cavalo could smell his stinking breath.

“Pretty?” the Dead Rabbit asked in a whisper. “Man. Man.
Bad
man.” He clicked his teeth together rapidly, as if he were trying to bite.

“That’s right. I
am
a bad man. And I will do bad things to you unless you tell me what I want.”

“Pretty,” the Dead Rabbit said. He was crying, fat oily tears that streaked his dirty cheeks. But even through the tears, he was smiling. His mouth was rotting. Missing teeth. Gums blackened. Radiation poisoning, though not too far along.

“Lucas,” Cavalo said. “Where is Lucas?”

The Dead Rabbit laughed and sobbed and cocked his head. “Lu… cas?” He clicked his teeth together. “Patrick. Said.
Bad
man.”

“Anyone out there?” Cavalo asked Richie.

“No. I don’t think so.” He sounded as if he skirted along the edges of panic.

Cavalo set his pack on the ground and reached inside, grabbing a corner of a threadbare blanket. He cut a long strip and balled it up. “Where’s Lucas?” he asked again.

“Pretty!” the Dead Rabbit cried, mouth stretched wide.

Cavalo shoved the cloth into the Dead Rabbit’s mouth as far back as it could go. The Dead Rabbit choked and tried to grab Cavalo’s legs. Cavalo dropped down, picking up the heavy pipe from the floor. Before the Dead Rabbit could pull the gag from his mouth, he brought down the pipe on the Dead Rabbit’s left knee. The bone cracked wetly. The Dead Rabbit’s eyes bulged, and he screamed into the gag, the sound muffled and quiet.

“Where is Lucas?” Cavalo asked again. He lifted his foot and stepped on the broken knee, grinding the bones together. The Dead Rabbit jerked, hands skittering at his sides.

He stepped off and pulled the gag from the Dead Rabbit’s mouth.

“Bad man,” the Dead Rabbit said weakly, blood draining from his face.

“I’ll do it again,” Cavalo said. “Your other knee. Your arms. Your face. Your fingers. I will break every bone in your body and make sure you’re awake while I do it. Tell me where he is.”

Cavalo was cold. He was calculating. He was willing to go as far has he needed to in order to get what he wanted. That had never been a problem before.

And Cavalo had never been one to underestimate an enemy. He thought he knew how to crack the blubbering man below him, how to break him until he told Cavalo everything he needed to hear.

So what happened next took Cavalo by surprise. The Dead Rabbit reached out toward him with shaking hands. “Please, pretty,” he cried. Cavalo took a step back. The man fell over onto his stomach and tried to crawl. Cavalo raised the pipe again.

The Dead Rabbit pushed himself up on his hands.

He smiled and stuck out his tongue. It was dark and looked rough. He gripped it in his teeth. And then the Dead Rabbit smashed his chin onto the cement floor as hard as he could. Cavalo heard his jaw snap, his teeth grinding together. His tongue fell out of his mouth in a gush of blood. The noise the severed muscle made when it landed on the floor caused Cavalo’s gorge to rise.

“Jesus
Christ
!” Richie moaned, backing away as far as he could. Bad Dog growled loudly as the Dead Rabbit rolled over onto his back, blood spilling from his mouth as he cried and laughed and gurgled.

The man had bitten off his own tongue rather than tell Cavalo anything. Cavalo had underestimated him. And the rest. He would not do that again. He crouched down next to the Dead Rabbit, whose face was a bloody red.

“
Gah
!” the Dead Rabbit cried at him.

Cavalo said nothing as he brought the knife down into the Dead Rabbit’s right eye, pushing it to the hilt. The Dead Rabbit twitched and then stilled. Cavalo pulled the knife out, the Dead Rabbit’s head falling back against the floor with a wet thunk. He wiped the blade off on the Dead Rabbit’s coat. He stood and reached for the door. “Let’s go,” he said. He didn’t look back.

deus ex machina

CAVALO DIDN’T
want to admit it, but they were lost.

He thought maybe an hour had passed since they’d entered the interior of the dam. The causeways split off into different directions, and Cavalo couldn’t tell where they were anymore. He’d always had a keen sense of direction, but being hidden away under a mountain of concrete and steel had fucked with that, and he couldn’t be sure they were any closer to Lucas than when they started.

If he’s even here at all
, the bees whispered.

Which, okay. Fair point. But he couldn’t think of that. Couldn’t think about how big the world truly was. How easy it was to get lost in it. Patrick could have taken him anywhere. Could have taken him back to wherever the Dead Rabbits called home. Could have taken him deep into the forest. Or to the ocean. Or the snows of the north. The deserts of the south. He could be miles away in any direction, and Cavalo would never know.

So he didn’t think about that. He told himself Lucas was here. That Lucas was close. He told himself he could feel Lucas nearby. He almost believed it.

“Fuck,” he growled as they turned a corner that led down another long hallway. There were a few doors ahead on either side. They’d already come across a few rooms. Some were locked. Others blocked from the inside. A few doors had opened, revealing offices. Silent machines. One had a man hanging from a metal pipe, a wire wrapped around his desiccated neck. Enough light had spilled into the room to show large letters etched into the far wall:
I’M SO SORRY MARIE.
He had closed that door rather quickly.

Too many smells
, Bad Dog said miserably.
All over. Everywhere. Bad guys and Smells Different. Smells Different and bad guys. Blood and death and fire and ashes.

“He’s here?”

Yes. He was.

That didn’t mean shit now. Cavalo believed, he really did, but the seed of doubt was growing, and he could do nothing to stop it.

“We’re running out of time,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face.

“We’ll find him,” Richie said quietly.

“We don’t even know where the fuck
we
are,” Cavalo snapped. “It’s not as if—”

“Hi, Daddy!”

Cavalo closed his eyes.

He broke through the cold. Breached the surface. The bees crawled along his skin.

Not there
, he thought.
Not there.

Bad Dog growled.

“Daddy!”

Cavalo opened his eyes. Jamie stood down at the end of the corridor as the lights flickered around them. He held Mr. Fluff in one hand, the stuffed rabbit dragging on the metal grating of the floor. He raised his other hand and wiggled his fingers at Cavalo. “Hi,” he said with a large smile. “Hi, hi, hi.”

“Not real,” Cavalo muttered.

“Cavalo?” Richie asked from behind him.

Cavalo ignored him because Jamie was calling to him, laughing and saying
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy
, and he felt the oily sweat on the back of his neck. The way his hands clenched. The whistling breath from his constricted throat because
Bad Dog was
looking
at Jamie. He was looking at Jamie and
growling
, like he could see him, like he was
real
.

Jamie waved at him again as Cavalo asked Bad Dog, “What do you see?”

I… don’t know.
Smells. Like… fire. Smoke. Lightning. I can’t see… it.
Bad Dog cocked his head, confused.
MasterBossLord, what is it?

“I don’t know,” Cavalo croaked.

“Silly puppy,” Jamie said with a grin. “Silly Daddy. Hi. Daddy, guess what?”

Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

He did it anyway. “What?” he asked.

“I can find him.”

“Who?”

Jamie rolled his eyes, and it was so
familiar
, so achingly and ridiculously
like
him that Cavalo thought for a brief, shining moment he was
real
.

“The Not-Monster,” Jamie said. “The Not-Cannibal. Smells Different.”

“Lucas?” Cavalo whispered.

Jamie nodded. “Do you remember? What I said?”

He’s not who you think he is.

“He’s… not?”

“Not
him
.” Jamie sighed as if his father was the most frustrating man in the world. And he very well could be, for all Cavalo knew. He never had the chance to ask his son otherwise.

“Cavalo,” Richie said, sounding nervous. “I don’t—”

“It’s not
him
,” Jamie said again. “It was never
him
. Silly Daddy. Silly James Cavalo. Mr. Fluff says you’re not
listening
.”

“I always listened to Mr. Fluff,” Cavalo croaked as Bad Dog whined. And he
had
because Jamie had always told him
stories
with Mr. Fluff and—

Jamie grinned again. “Do you? Did you listen to him when you threw him in the river? He floated away, Daddy. Like a paper boat. But I found him.”

“Oh my God,” Richie moaned from somewhere.

“I can see that,” Cavalo said, taking a step toward his son. “Why are you both here?” Because they
were
, they
were
here and
nothing
could convince Cavalo otherwise. Not anymore.

Jamie cocked his head. “I thought you knew. I thought you knew all this time. We’re here because of this moment. We’re the god from the machine, Daddy. Didn’t you know?”

“No. No, Jamie. I didn’t.” He made an aborted attempt to reach out for his son, but Jamie took a step back, and Cavalo felt the stingers of the bees stabbing behind his eyeballs, crawling along his brain. Their legs and silvery wings brushed against gray matter.

“Daddy?”

“Yes,” Cavalo said, hands trembling.

“Catch me!”

And he took off quicker than Cavalo had ever seen him move in life.

Cavalo didn’t hesitate. Richie squawked in surprise when Cavalo ran down the causeway, feet clanging against the metal grating that lined the floor. Bad Dog let out a solid
woof
and followed without question.

Cavalo turned left and caught a flash of Mr. Fluff’s ears, the skin of his son’s ankle. He didn’t stop to think if the bees had finally consumed him, if all the rubber bands had finally broken. He didn’t have time for such frivolous nonsense. His son was running deep inside Dworshak and they were lost and the minutes were wasting away. Lucas was either here or anywhere. They would either live or die. He was tired. He was so very tired.

A right turn. Another right. Through a doorway already open, and the bees screamed at him to slow, to quiet, to
shut the fuck up
because someone would
hear
him, someone would find him and eat his toes and eyes and—

The clank of Bad Dog’s toenails rattled behind him.

The quick, sobbing breath from Richie’s throat.

Cavalo ran.

He only caught vague glimpses of his son, but others were with him too. He saw his father on a decaying poster embedded on the wall, wearing a hardhat, an animated talking balloon coming out of his mouth asking if Cavalo knew about
SAFETY FIRST
and
KEEPING WALKWAYS CLEAR
and
DRINKING WAS THE ONLY THING THAT NUMBED THE PAIN OF LIVING
. His father winked at him from another poster, neck crooked at an odd angle, bones protruding through his throat because he had
died
when he’d fallen from a horse, he’d
died when
—

Warren stood inside a closed office door that Cavalo ran by, only the outline of his shadow visible, but Cavalo
knew
it was him,
knew
that if he’d only seen him first, so many things might have been different, so many things might have changed, and he could have
saved
him, he could have
helped him to—

Snarling coyotes scratched down the hallway to the right as he turned to follow Jamie to the left, and he heard the door there grate open, and the woman inside shrieked at them to come, to finish this, that she wanted to die that she wanted it all to be over, and when they descended on her, when they tore into her flesh, she screamed again, but it was in such
relief
, and she
laughed
—

David begged Cavalo not to shoot him as he crawled underneath the metal grating below Cavalo’s feet, begged him not to pull the trigger because he hadn’t
stolen
anything, he hadn’t
taken
anything from Cavalo, he would never do that, he would never do that because they were
friends
, they were friends, and he wanted it to be more because he
loved
Cavalo, he
loved him and he didn’t want to die
—

“Catch me, Daddy!”

There was a stitch in his side. His knees hurt, but that was because he was getting older and it was damp here inside this hellhole. Water trickled down around him, the walls groaned and shifted. Steam poured from a cracked pipe. He was old, this place was old, it was a tomb, and he would be
buried here
—