War Page 4

  “You’ve done so well,” he murmured, staring at the cans covered in Chinese writing piled into the corner. “More than I ever could have in your position.”

  I turned and handed him a mug. “No, you just make heroin and give it to lonely women.”

  The flinch indicated how cruel I’d been. He reached for the coffee without meeting my gaze. Silence grew, until the beast had claws, and when he finally met my gaze, he spoke. “The drug I gave you was nothing more than a relaxant, just like Valium.”

  I didn’t believe him. I tried to search my memory, but I’d never taken drugs before, so how would I know? Because you never got sick… “But that wasn’t all, was it?”

  “Yes, it was,” he answered, those stony words having the strength of truth. “I promise on all that I am, I’m telling you the truth, Harlow. Just a relaxant I took from a doctor. The stuff’s called Diazepam, and I have a stash of it hidden away. I can take you there, if you want.”

  “You showed me…the first time, you showed me how to…”

  “Cook and inject? Yes, I wanted you to believe you needed me. I’m not going to try to justify my actions, Harlow. Because there are no justifications. I needed you to trust me, and hell, if not trust—then I’d settle for need. I had to be close to you. And at the time I thought there was no other way. I watched you for weeks before I approached you in the tunnel. Do you know how much that killed me? To see you, to watch you live like there was no hope. You were already dying inside. I had to stop that. I had to do everything I could, so yeah, I tricked you. I drugged you. I swapped one addiction for another. Because, believe me, you wanting to check out of this world was an addiction.”

  Coffee splashed against the side of the mug with the shakes. I tried to close myself off to his words, but, no matter how hard I tried, the ache was still there. No family. No purpose. What kind of life was it, when each day you were living, just to eventually die? “You could’ve talked to me, could’ve been a friend.”

  I moved closer, his careful hands, careful touch, fingers skimming my fingers. “You know, and I know, out there there’s no such thing as friends. It’s too dangerous.”

  I wanted to hate him, wanted to draw a line in the sand, with him on one side and me on the other. Did one good deed outweigh all the bad? He used me, controlled me. He was no better than those who’d caused all of this.

  “I’m not asking you to forgive me, all I’m asking is for you to listen. I never cried out once when I was locked in that basement. Never rushed you, never asked for anything other than your attention.”

  My muscles twitched. The need was still there, driving an itch through my veins. Nirvana…Nirvana. His words made no sense. I knew what I felt when I took those drugs. I knew the high, just as I knew the low. “I needed it…”

  “You needed to numb the pain, that’s all. I understand why…believe me.”

  I shook my head, swallowing the harsh bark of laughter.

  I understand…those words stuck in my craw.

  He didn’t understand. No one did.

  Inside my mind, memories crowded in. The crackle of glowing embers lit up the darkest of nights.

  Not now…please, not now. I tried to shove that night down. Down in the dark and endless nothing where the memories couldn’t hurt me. Still the choking smell of burning flesh filled my nose…his screams followed—brutal, savage screams while they cheered and screamed for more.

  Harlow! Harlow, run!

  The mug slipped from my hand. Hot liquid stung my skin.

  “Fuck! Harlow…Harlow!”

  Warm hands…warm touch. He pulled me closer—held me against his chest. But he couldn’t still the shakes.

  He didn’t understand—no one did.

  The Mighty murdered my father in cold blood…he was more than my dad. He was my protector, my savior. He was my everything.

  Run Harlow Ru—

  His screams erupted in my mind, until the boom of the shotgun tore me free, leaving nothing but the thuds of my heart. My hands shook, my body shuddered. I closed my eyes to that memory, as tears spilled free and raced down my cheeks.

  Still Pestilence held me, rocked me. “You’re here, you’re safe. I won’t let them hurt you…ever again.”

  “You can’t say that,” I pulled away, jerking my arm from his hold. “You don’t know me. You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

  Sadness in his voice was like breaking glass. “That’s where you’re wrong. I do know you…I know you better than you think.”

  Tears blurred his face, and yet all I could see was the familiar blue pullover and the faded sweats Dad always wore. “Those clothes you’re wearing belonged to my dad. He’s dead now…because of me. So, tell me again, how well you know me? How well can you really know a monster like me?”

  I waited for the flinch, for the look of horror on his face that was surely on mine. But all he did was stare into my eyes and murmur, “You’re no more of a monster than I am.”

  Ash…that was all he’d left behind of Kris. Bits of floating ash that caught the breeze. I remembered that moment clearly. I remembered the boom of the blast. I remembered the sky turned white. Pain savaged my head and my belly. I reached up now, touching tender flesh. I remembered him striding through the haze toward me, right before my knees buckled and I hit the floor.

  “We aren’t monsters, Harlow. We’re the exact opposite.”

  Fire tore along my throat with the laughter. “So, what? We’re saviors, is that it? We’re the good guys out here saving the world?”

  “Would that be so bad? I’ve been trying to tell you…trying to make you understand. The world has gone too far…even you can see that.”

  I yearned for the perfect years before the storms—for that time where everything had felt secure—where I was just a kid…where I was just me.

  The squeal of a rat cut through the foyer outside. I jerked my gaze to the open door and stumbled forward. There was no sign of Angel. She had better things to do than to stay with me.

  I gripped the knob and shoved the door closed before I turned. His words swirled around in my head…and yet, inside, that aching resounded loud and clear, something that was bigger than myself.

  “You can feel it, can’t you? The drive to be someone. To do something. You and me, underneath the horror…underneath the things we’ve done—we’re the same.”

  The same killer?

  The same monster?

  I dropped my gaze to the broken mug on the floor. Milky white coffee slipped between the tiles to race along the floor. I made for the sink, grabbed the cloth, and moved toward the mess.

  My knees shuddered and ached as I bent and mopped the liquid. I wanted to sleep, to bury myself under the covers and forget the world existed—forget he existed.

  “Talk to me,” he murmured. “Yell at me, hit me—hate me. But don’t shut me out. Don’t close down and pretend I’m not here.”

  I swiped and squeezed, running my fingers along the grout.

  “He’s coming, Harlow. War is coming and you need to be ready.”

  My hand stilled, eyes closed. There was a trembling inside me, one that cut through my core.

  Is she ready?

  Those haunting words echoed in my mind. It was another voice, another man…another one of them…

  War. His name resounded as I shoved up from the floor and climbed to my feet. I headed for the sink, letting the cloth slip from my hand before I turned.

  Rain peppered the glass in the window. I lifted my gaze to the nailed boards. There was a gap, big enough to see the slate gray skies that stretched as far as I could see.

  “Why?” The question tore free. I spun and searched for the truth in his eyes. “Why do this? You want me to believe you, right? Then tell me, what purpose does this serve? Why come here, why take everything away from us?”

  “That’s not up to me to decide…or you. They are who they are. They take what they take. Free will means free will, Harlow. The freedom to make thei
r own mistakes, no matter how terrible they might be. It’s how humanity was always meant to be.”

  The ping…ping…ping of heavy drops made me shudder. Free will made the storms. Free will made the disease. Free will killed those I loved.

  But it didn’t come for me.

  “How well do you remember that night? The night your father was killed?”

  I jerked with the question and lifted my head. Darkness rushed, stealing me from this moment into the past.

  “Do you remember what happened after…when you stumbled home in the dark? Do you remember falling to your knees?”

  I shuddered, could still remember the emptiness, the loss of control, spinning…spinning…spinning. Still feel the pain in my knees as I hit the asphalt—I turned my head now to stare through the gaps in the boarded windows…it’d been just out there.

  Out there in the street outside our building while the world burned around me.

  Embers had lit up the night sky, floating like orange stars above. I’d wanted to die. I closed my eyes as those words echoed from his lips. “You summoned the plague, do you remember? Come to me…were your words. Find me—”

  Take me…the calling filled my mind. I could still taste the blood in my mouth, still feel that agony in my chest. Still feel my nails buckling under the strain as I clawed the tar.

  That night I screamed for the plague to claim me.

  I called for war to come and leave me broken and bloody in the street.

  I whispered for famine…begged for death.

  I called them.

  The kitchen shimmered beyond a sheen of tears. There was a darkness that welled in my belly—an emptiness that had no name, no substance. But it was here, this night—this terror, this knowing. I saw him now, saw him for what he was…not a man—something else.

  Something not of this world, but he existed because of it.

  “You called…and we obeyed.” He danced and jerked behind unshed tears. “Now do you understand?”

  A quake raced, tearing me back to that night. I threw my hand against the sink and held on. That night pinned me down. I was still there, feeling the fire in my throat…tasting rage as I screamed for them.

  Only I didn’t know what I was calling.

  The crack of thunder tore through the sky overhead like the heavens screamed my name. His arms were around me, soothing words echoed in my ear. “Free will extends to us, as well.”

  I take it back…I take it all back. I didn’t want anyone to die.

  I didn’t want anyone to be in pain.

  “It was over long before I came. It was over that night. That’s the journey…that’s the end, of the age. And we will travel this journey together, no matter what happens. I’m here for you, Harlow.”

  And from beneath the roar of the thunder and the rain, a piercing scream cut through the air.

  It was the scream of a woman.

  A scream of pain.

  And it wasn’t until the sound came again that I knew it wasn’t just a remnant in my mind. I tore from his hold and stared through the boards of wood. “Did you hear that?”

  The gray washed-out city was all I could see. I rose on my toes, searching the street below. “I heard something…someone.”

  “I didn’t hear anything. Maybe it was the wind. It could’ve been anything, Harlow.”

  Strands of hair slapped my face as I shook my head. “No, I heard it.” I shoved away from the sink and made for the door. “I heard a woman scream.”

  “Don’t go out there,” he growled, bare feet slapped the tiled floor behind me.

  Desperation was in the driver’s seat now, whispering restitution to the woman with her heart still in the past. If I could just help one person.

  If I could just try.

  I twisted the lock and yanked the door. My bare feet were a blur racing down the stairs, and as I hit the bottom I heard her scream once more.

  “Harlow! Harlow, wait!”

  Heavy boards were nailed in place across the main entrance. Cupboards and dressers crammed hard against the doorjamb. There was no getting out that way. I spun and lunged for the slide door, feet slipping against the slick floor.

  The darkness waited for me down there, along with the icy water and the rats. Don’t think, just do. Worry about the panic later. The scream outside turned into a tortured moan.

  I yanked open the door and raced back along the darkened hallway until I hit the stairs. Water rose fast as I lunged. Bare feet stung with the frigid kiss, moving upward along my shins, my thighs, until my lower body was swallowed once more.

  “Jesus Christ, Harlow,” Pestilence lunged into the water behind me as I pushed harder.

  The squeal of a rat made me flinch. My heart hammered inside my head, drowning out the roar of the rain, until I reached the side door.

  My pack sat on the table, barely three inches above the water level. Tiny waves lapped the tabletop as I clawed for the lock.

  “Wait,” he growled. “It could be a damn trap.”

  My hand stilled, clenched around the knob.

  “Let me go first. Harlow…”

  It took all I had not to step out there first. I knew danger. I lived in danger. But he was right. I couldn’t take chances. I took a step and moved out of the way. His fingers brushed my arm as he stepped through the door and under the sheeting. “Stay here. I’ll come back for you.”

  The edge in his voice made me lunge, catching his arm before he slipped from sight. “Don’t…don’t hurt her.”

  “I’m not a damn animal, Harlow.”

  Those words stung. My hand dropped and he was gone, shuffling from under the covering and stepping out into the gray world.

  Seconds felt like minutes. I waited, straining to listen through the thunder and the rain. Until I could take no more.

  Gray clouds bled like a stab wound in the sky. I lifted my head, catching the crimson bloom, millimeter by millimeter—whatever it was—it moved.

  I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t move. I was trapped, nailed to the spot by the glowing orb.

  “Harlow!” The hard whisper came from my left.

  I flinched with the sound and tore my gaze from the sky. The dark blur moved, sharpening as he stepped close. “It’s a girl.”

  My stomach clenched. I flung myself forward, leaving the safety of my home behind. Water raced along the gutters and spilled from the drains. In the space of only a few hours, the streets had become a river.

  “Over here,” he called, and then turned.

  Rain soaked the pullover against his back, from here he was nothing more than a man, nothing more than someone I knew.

  Not someone I should be afraid of.

  I followed, moving along the alley toward the street. A tremor raced as I scanned the alley behind me and stepped out. She was just a blur amongst the sleet. I blinked as rain pelted my face and fell into my eyes, watching her roll and crawl along the ground. “What’s wrong with her?”

  Pestilence stilled, turned his head, and cupped his ear. Frustration mounted as I lengthened my stride. “I said, what’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s been bitten.”

  My heart raced, forcing my feet to pick up their pace. I stumbled forward, shooting past him, and the blur seemed to sharpen. Bitten by a rat? A dog? Fear sent a shudder through my core. I scanned the pelting rain for movement and called out. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help.”

  She flinched, held her leg tight, and rolled, facing me.

  And for a second, I stood, stunned. She seemed so familiar…eerily familiar. Her dark green coat was weathered and worn, but underneath the padded fabric was someone thin and young.

  Bloodless lips were mashed together. Dark, haunting eyes were wide, peeking out from the long dark strands of hair plastered to her face. “A snake, floated out of the drain. It stings...”

  I swallowed hard, staring at her hands wrapped around her ankle. “We need to get you inside…now.”

  She looked s
o damn young…too young. Barely more than twelve…as old as Sarah when she died.

  “My leg,” she whimpered. “I can’t walk.”

  I knelt beside her, catching sight of the fang marks on her leg. “Then we’ll carry you.”

  Pestilence rounded her other side, stepping into the gutter as the water gushed, and reached around her back with one hand and under her legs with the other. He lifted his head, brown eyes imploring, waiting for me to give the command.

  I gave a nod, and then he lifted, curling her against his chest as we turned back to the building.

  5

  I wanted to call her Sarah. The name stuck in my throat as I gripped the metal sheeting and watched them slip through the door. Water sloshed as he waded along the basement and climbed the stairs.

  I was close behind, listening to her tiny whimpers and moans in the dark. She sounded so much like Sarah, frail and afraid. “Hurry,” I urged. “We need to get her leg strapped before the venom spreads.”

  Hinges howled as he shoved through the door and strode across the foyer for the stairs. A savage snarl echoed from the top of the stairs. Angel stood there, top lip curled, white teeth bared. Pestilence stilled, dripping water along the steel stairs.

  “Hey,” I called and slipped around them. “Cut that out.”

  Still, she never moved, dark eyes trained on him. I climbed the stairs and moved in front of them. The savage sound eased as her gaze slipped up to me. She didn’t like him, not one bit…but still, this felt more than that.

  There was a hunger in the air, a desperation, that seemed to stem from something more than a dislike. “He needs to pass,” I murmured and glanced over my shoulder at the young girl in his arms. “She’s hurt.”

  Angel gave a whine, and then a snarl as I made for the top of the stairs. She had no collar, no chain. She was a free animal and, until this moment, she’d had no reason to be leashed.

  “Come on.” Spittle flew from her mouth as she set her sights on Pestilence. I moved closer, blocking her view and making her step backwards. “Leave him alone.”

  She lunged against my thigh, snapping and snarling. But not once did she turn those fangs to me. I trusted her…and she trusted me. “I know, okay. But we can’t do this now. You’ve gotta trust me.”