Viper Moon (34 page)

“We need to go,” Michael said. “Now.”

The other children had come forward, but they huddled together, despair on their faces.

“Can we go, too?” one little girl asked. Her voice quavered and tears glittered in her eyes. No one had come for them.

“Of course you can.” I reached out to reassure them, but Michael stepped forward first.

He crouched down to be on their level and gave them that beneficent smile. “You can come with me.”

One of the girls, a lovely child, reached out to touch him, then drew her hand back. “Are you an angel?”

“No, but I’m someone who will help you,” he said. This was a Michael I’d never seen. Man, human, or something else, he had a complexity I did not understand.

They’d been psychologically wounded, these young ones, probably traumatized to the deepest places in their hearts. I hoped they would recover. Maybe Abby would help with a potion or two—if she could.

I went back and checked both directions in the hallway. Nothing.

I didn’t want to go back the way we came in, but we were in the heart of the Zombie Zone, and nothing good lay outside. The rain had stopped, and I’d bet the storm sewers were moderately clean by now.

“Nefertiti,” I called softly. Damn, where was she? “Nefertiti, come on, snake.”

“Maybe she went with the other snake,” Richard said. “The big one that looks like her.”

“Oh, yes,” Selene chimed in. “One of the men came back after they fed us one morning. He came in and said I was a big girl and he wanted to play with me.” She sneered. She knew how he wanted to play. “The snake came and bit him. He fell over and died.” Her eyes glittered, even in the soft light. “It came and stayed with us sometimes. We weren’t scared when it was here.”

“He’d locked the door behind him before he died, so we couldn’t get out,” Richard said. “But I took this and hid it before the others came and found him.” He held up a stunner. “Batteries are good.” He had a dark streak near his eye. He’d fought somewhere along the way.

“And I got this.” Selene drew a bronze-bladed knife out of her pocket. She grinned and I could see so much of Flynn in her.

These two had been willing to fight, not surprising, given their relatives. I didn’t know of a big snake, but Nefertiti knew her way around. This was where I’d found her and maybe she called it home. Others like her might live here. I certainly couldn’t go hunting for her.

“You ready?” Dacardi held a cell phone to his ear, and his little GPS thing glowed in his hand. “Good. Track us. Hurry. Blast your way in if you have to. There’s an extra hundred thou for all of you.”

“Damn, Dacardi. That’s big-time.” I couldn’t hide my shock.

“Ain’t going back in those sewers.” He stuffed the instruments in the plastic bag and shoved it back in his pocket.

We made our way down to the first floor using one dim, shaded light. There were no windows or doors left there, and no sign of monsters.

“Still too easy,” I muttered.

I peered outside and tried to get my bearings. The plaza, the center of the pentagram and the last place I wanted to be, was behind us on the other side of the building. Lightning flickered across the sky and skirted the tattered edges of boiling clouds. Not crashing bolts, but what my mother called God’s lace. A precise scientific name, I’m sure. The street was empty but the night had a heavy silence, as if greater things were ready to fall upon us.

Flynn wrapped an arm around me and kissed my ear. He was shaking and he couldn’t talk. We made a three-way clump, since Selene wouldn’t let go of him.

“Thank you,” he whispered, as Selene finally broke the embrace to talk to Richard.

I had to say it. I grabbed his shirt and held on. “I want to tell you . . . I . . .”

“I know. My love, my life, I know.” He rubbed his face against mine.

For once, I had no words.

Richard comforted the younger children. A born leader, that boy. I could feel the power in him and Selene. That was the thing that caused the Mother to send me after some children. These were the ones the Darkness desired. The others, while still precious, were simply children. I always rescued them when I could and I hoped that somewhere there was someone to love them, joyful to have them returned.

Michael stood silent, his eyes on the street.

Michael turned to me. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I felt the weight of his gaze. Had he proven himself this night? I wanted to think so. I wanted to think that Dacardi’s men would arrive and we’d all go safely home.

Dacardi was whispering in his phone again and the mechanical sound of approaching vehicles came. Then the sound of gunfire. “Use the big ones,” Dacardi ordered, his voice rising. “Use the fucking flamethrowers.” He shouted the last words.

Light, brilliant as a high summer morning, filled the streets a block away. Howls and screams filled the night, then roars of rage. The battle had begun—and since the vehicles hadn’t slowed, I’d bet humans and their guns were winning—for now. When they moved closer, their light filled the street before us. I had a bit different perspective.

I’d seen the monsters in the sewers, an increase in the numbers over the years, but now at least a hundred milled in the street. They must have climbed aboveground at the first sign of rain. Now they poured out of buildings and threw themselves in front of what looked like a couple of Fire Dogs on steroids. Men sat on top of one and suddenly sent out a thirty-foot slash of fire. That fire sent dozens of blazing monsters running away screaming. Other men with automatic rifles fired indiscriminately through the throngs and mowed the creatures down.

“Dacardi,” I screamed over the deafening chaos of battle. “How did you know we’d need this much firepower?”

Dacardi was laughing. “My granny told me. I dreamed about her two nights ago. Paid attention for a change.”

I saw no reason for the humor, because more creatures were pouring out of the buildings around us, packing the streets with fangs and claws. Why were there none in the building that held the children? Because, of course, we’d walked into a trap. I didn’t think the person or thing setting the trap had counted on Dacardi’s army getting us out. They had expected me to come alone, I realized. I was supposed to go in, unchallenged, until someone snapped the jaws shut around me. Maybe I had done something right, asking for help.

The roar of battle buffeted us: screams, donkeylike brays, the firecracker chatter of guns, and the racing engines of the Steroid Dogs. The vehicles had made their way to within sixty feet of us and stopped where the street ended in a series of cracks they couldn’t cross. We’d have to weave our way between those cracks—and we’d have to fight.

I drew my gun and heard the others ready theirs.

“Richard, Selene, you keep the little ones together,” I shouted above the screams and gunfire. “Stay in the middle and let us fight.”

They did as I asked, their faces solidified with determination. After weeks of fear and captivity, these two brave children wanted to take a stand.

Dacardi yelled final orders into his phone. “Get down,” he said. He pulled something out of his pocket. He threw it outside. Oh, damn. We all dropped. The grenade exploded, sending monster parts flying everywhere, even onto us. We surged out of the building and onto the street. We made it a good way over the pavement before the beasts realized we were running among them. Only forty feet to go.

Flynn and Dacardi were the only ones with rifles. They mowed quite a few down. I had to be more selective. I’m a good shot, and every time I pulled the trigger, every time the gun slammed against my palm, one went down. The brilliance of the lights on the vehicles helped. The creatures frantically shook their heads in an attempt to keep from staring into it straight on.

Then they surrounded us and our forward motion slowed. Another searing blast of fire came close—too close. The biggest problem was the monsters between the vehicles and us. We couldn’t shoot in that direction and the men couldn’t shoot in ours. I moved to the front, where my shots—individual, precisely placed—were more effective. I dropped a magazine and loaded another. The men on the vehicle shot them, too.

Another fifteen feet. With horrified faces and wide, bulging eyes, the younger children screamed, but those small cries were lost in the clamor of battle. Richard and Selene had them by the arms and dragged them on.

Sometimes an idea, a bit of knowledge, a realization comes to you, but you shove it aside when faced with major distractions. In the back of my mind, I knew something was wrong. The monsters weren’t attacking us. They thrashed around, slashing and screaming, they threw themselves at the war machines, but they didn’t attack the humans moving among them. They only used their solid bodies to hinder us.
Control
. What could possibly be controlling them?

We made it to the Dog by climbing over the hideous carcasses we and Dacardi’s men had killed. The doors popped open and Michael loaded the kids. Dacardi, Flynn, and I fired into the press of beasts. The troops on top of the vehicle could fire over our heads now. They beat them back until the living had to crawl over the dead. And crawl over they did.

Dacardi climbed in the Dog, then Flynn and Michael. The beasts froze. I wasn’t sure anyone noticed but me, since the troops on top of the vehicle continued to fire. The change came in a chill whisper that echoed in my head, not my ears. As one, the monsters surged, throwing their bodies, shoving me backward, separating me from the others. One of them barreled into me from behind.

Stunned, I staggered forward. Another of the apelike beasts caught me in its arms. The thing was three times my size. With five-inch claws—claws that never touched me—it scooped me up like a child and carried me away. Up and over the dead, down the street. No one would shoot for fear of hitting me—if they even saw what happened.

Gunfire ratcheted up behind me as the attack on the Dog resumed. I bounced in painful slaps against the beast’s rough hide as it made heavy, galloping leaps across the pavement. It grunted with each step and blew foul carrion breath over me. I finally got over my shock and realized I still had my gun. I shoved the barrel under the beast’s chin and pulled the trigger. It died instantly as the bronze blasted out the top of its head, but forward momentum carried it on—and if it fell on me, I’d be lucky to get off with broken bones. Another creature grabbed me as the first collapsed.

Animals! Who controlled animals—monsters—the way I controlled Nirah and Nefertiti? I was in deep shit. I shot the second beast, same as the first. As it fell, I twisted away, but I landed hard on the pavement. I kept my head up, but my hip and one elbow flared like someone drove a nail in them.

Stunned, I couldn’t tell how far I’d gone. Not too far, because light glowed from fairly close by. I heard gunfire, though, and I could go in that direction. Or even back into the storm sewer, which had to be free of monsters because they were all up on the street.

I rolled and tried to push myself up. Liquid splashed in my face. I gasped as Robert had when I’d hit him with the truth potion, and, of course, I sucked it into my lungs. My body instantly went limp. Fingers, not claws, tore the gun from my hand. My eyes burned like an acid bath and a corrosive taste filled my mouth.

Someone bent over me. I couldn’t see, but I knew the voice.

“I’m sorry, Huntress.” Reverend Victor, benevolent director of the Lost Lamb, a man I trusted. I had seen not a single hint of betrayal.

“No! Victor!” Michael shouted from a distance. He had come for me, but I knew he was too far away.

Vic laughed with a high, hysterical cackle. “You’re too late, little brother! You had your chance. Now I get mine.”

“Victor, stop! Madness is her province, not yours.” Michael was closer now. Much closer.

I fought a useless battle to regain control of my limp body. Whatever he used had turned my muscles to mush.

Victor shouted, “Kill him!”

Some of the sewer monsters milled around. I couldn’t tell how many, but they all suddenly marched in the same direction. Consciousness slipped away.

I woke lying on something soft. Disoriented, I kept my eyes closed, trying to get things together.

“You’re breathing faster now, Cassandra. I know you’re awake.” Vic swabbed a wet cloth on my mouth and I sucked a little moisture and worked up some saliva in my parched mouth.

I opened my eyes and focused on his face above me. Damn, I wanted to smash it, to break bones. My hands clenched into fists, but he’d tied my arms to what felt like a camping cot. Tied so tight my fingers throbbed, desperate for life-giving blood.

I spat at him.

Vic jumped a little but, other than that, didn’t react. He had a ridiculous smile and tears ran from his eyes. For whom was he crying?

He sat in a chair beside me. His shoulders slumped and he twisted the rag in his hands.

My head and body ached, but not in the raging pain of broken bones or other serious injuries. I studied the room around me. A couple of battery lanterns cast dim light on what had once been an office. It had a dusty aura of disuse, a battered desk, and old file cabinets with missing drawers. Two bottles of water sat on the desk, but the cot I was lying on was the only actual sign of habitation.

Vic didn’t look happy. No
Ha ha, I won
gloating.

“Come on, Vic. Let me loose and give me my gun. I’ll save you.”

A peal of shrill, penetrating laughter filled the room. Elise Ramekin came into view. She’d aged twenty years since I’d met her at the asylum. A decrepit old woman walked toward me. Her eyes were sunken deep into her face. She wore a long black robe with a bunch of peculiar designs woven into the fabric. It was far too long; she had to hold it up to walk. Even so, it trailed behind her like a giant dust rag, gathering all manner of filth. She’d pushed the sleeves back to reveal heavily bandaged arms.