The Flame Never Dies

by Rachel Vincent

  “Their Trojan horse isn’t going to make it to the gates.” Anabelle sank back into her chair with a defeated sigh and stared at the SUV. “It’s not that I’m rooting for the Church to win, and I hate that they used Melanie as their weapon. But Kastor is our enemy too, and since Mellie’s not going to make it to Pandemonia, it kind of feels like she died for nothing.”

  I closed my eyes, stunned. Meshara had stolen everything from my sister—even the chance for her death to have meaning.

  I couldn’t let her death mean nothing.

  “Melanie wasn’t their only Trojan horse.” I’d caught the virus from my sister, which meant that whether they’d meant to or not, the Church had turned me into a walking contagion, capable of spreading their virus to any demon I came into contact with without ever even having to expose myself as a threat. “Kastor wants me?” I glanced from Anabelle to Eli as they twisted to look at me from the front seat. “He can have me. But he’s going to get a hell of a lot more than he bargained for.”

  It only took them a second to catch on. “Wait, Nina, let’s think about this,” Anabelle insisted, and Adam began to fuss in my arms as if he knew exactly what was going on. “If they’ve got Grayson, the city’s already infected. You don’t need to go.”

  “With any luck, Reese and the others caught up with Grayson before Kastor’s people could get her to the city. If that’s the case, the demons who took her are dead, which means neither they nor Grayson will be infecting Pandemonia. And if Grayson is in the city, the others will need help getting her out. Either way, I have to go.”

  “But what about Adam?” Ana looked horrified. “You can’t just abandon Melanie’s baby to…what? Go spread disease in the most dangerous city on earth?”

  “I’m not abandoning him. You two are going to watch him for me.” I tried to hand the baby to Anabelle, but she frowned and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “You’re all the family he has left, Nina!”

  “And the most important thing I can do for my nephew”—now that he didn’t need my soul—“is make sure Kastor will never, ever get his hands on this little guy. I have to go to Pandemonia, Anabelle.”

  Ana turned to Eli, desperation shining in her wide eyes. “Say something! Talk some sense into her.”

  Eli opened his mouth, his forehead furrowed, and I held up one finger to stop him. “Don’t even start. You said the Lord gave me an exorcist’s gifts for a reason.” I was far from sure I believed in Eli’s warrior religion, but I did believe in purpose, and the Unified Church had unwittingly given me a hell of a one. They’d given me a way to avenge Melanie and protect Adam.

  They’d given me the ability to bring all of demonkind to its knees.

  Eli nodded, then turned to Anabelle. “She’s right. Nina’s been given two gifts—exorcism and contagion. And they both seem destined for Pandemonia.”

  “But…what about the baby?”

  I looked down to find him sleeping in my arms, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to stay there, holding him, looking for signs of Mellie in his tiny features. “With any luck, I’ll make it out and come back for Adam, but the odds aren’t in my favor. Anabelle, I need to know that if I die, you’ll do everything you can to protect him and give him a good life.”

  “Nina…”

  “Please, Ana. For Mellie.”

  “Yes. Of course.” She exhaled heavily and stared at the baby with tears in her eyes. “You know I will. I just don’t want to lose you too.”

  “And will you help her?” I turned to Eli. “Can Ana and Adam stay with you and your people?”

  “Of course they can. But we get raided too, Nina. Ours isn’t an easy life, or a secure one.”

  “I know.” But those both applied to my life too, ever since the moment I’d discovered that I was an exorcist. “Just do your best for Adam, and I’ll do my best to come back for him. That’s all any of us can ever promise.”

  We buried Melanie on the side of old Interstate 70 as the sun rose over the badlands. Eli and I took turns digging with our only shovel while Adam napped and Anabelle wrapped my sister’s body in the nicest blanket we had, to cover up the smoking hole in her chest. Though I could hardly see it anyway through the tears steadily blurring my vision.

  Eli closed the grave with shovelful after shovelful of dirt while I clutched the baby to my chest. In the hundreds of times I’d pictured Melanie’s labor and delivery, I’d never once pictured my sister lying in the hole I’d known would have to be dug afterward.

  We marked Melanie’s grave with a cross Eli made from scraps of wood and the nylon cord from my bindings. He’d carved her name on the short length of the cross with surprising aptitude. But as the crimson morning sun shone down on my grief, I realized I would probably never again see either the cross or my sister’s grave.

  I had little confidence that I would leave Pandemonia alive.

  I held Adam snugly, feeding him his third bottle, while Eli and Anabelle loaded up everything they could fit in the car except what they’d insisted I carry in the bag Ana had packed for me.

  “Okay.” Eli set the full backpack at my feet. “Remember, we’ll be traveling down old Interstate 70, toward what used to be Salina, Kansas. If you make it out of Pandemonia anytime in the next week, you should be able to catch us in a car. Adam will be waiting for you.”

  “Thank you,” I said. Anabelle held her arms out for the baby, but I clutched him tighter until he began to squirm. “If you run into the rest of Anathema, tell them what we’ve figured out and how. Tell them where I am and why. But stay with the Lord’s Army, Ana. Promise me you’ll keep Adam with Eli and his people.”

  She frowned. “But Maddock and Devi and Reese…They’re stronger and faster, and they’d do anything to protect us—”

  I laid one hand on her arm to be sure I had her full attention. “The Lord’s Army fights demons when they have to. When evil brings the fight to them. Anathema will always be looking for that fight. That’s what exorcists were born to do. But even if any of them knew how to take care of a baby, that kind of life isn’t safe for Adam.”

  “But you’re an exorcist,” she pointed out. “All that goes for you too.”

  “I’ll worry about that if I survive Pandemonia.” But the chances of that were slimmer than either of us wanted to admit.

  “But…”

  Eli stepped between Anabelle and me and pulled me into a hug, careful not to squish the baby. “Meeting you and your friends has been among the greatest honors of my life.”

  Ana pulled him away from me by one arm, scowling. “She’s not going to die!”

  Eli frowned down at her. “Life holds no such guarantee, and the odds don’t improve when you march into a city full of demons.” He turned back to me while Anabelle watched us through wide, worried eyes. “You’re going to need this.” He removed his cowboy hat, turned it around, then set it on my head, over my objections. “Sunscreen only goes so far. This will shade your face and protect your eyes from the glare.”

  “Thank you,” I said when I realized he wasn’t going to change his mind.

  “In about thirty miles, you might run into another division of the Lord’s Army. In the spring they like to harvest patches of spinach, radishes, and asparagus that grow wild a few miles north of I-70. Their elder, Brother Malachi, is my maternal grandfather, and our divisions share many relatives. If you see them, show them the hat and tell them I sent you. They will give you shelter and watch over you while you rest.”

  “Thanks again, Eli.”

  He smiled and began walking backward around the front of the car. “Go with the Lord, Nina Kane.” His words had the ring of a final goodbye, and my throat tightened at the thought.

  I placed the baby in Anabelle’s arms as Eli slid into the driver’s seat, and when she got into the car and closed the door, I leaned in through the open window to kiss my nephew on the forehead. He smelled like wet wipes and formula, and I was sure that for the rest of my life, even if I liv
ed to be a hundred years old, I would forever associate that combination of scents with grief, hope, determination, and the cruel suspicion that I would never again see any of the people I loved the most.

  As Eli and Anabelle drove east on old Interstate 70, carrying with them my last living relative, I picked up the bag they’d packed for me and tossed it over my shoulder. I watched the car until it disappeared into the horizon, and then I turned and headed west, with nothing but the bag on my back, determination in my step, and my eyes on the goal.

  Pandemonia.

  Ready or not, here I come.

  By my estimate, I’d been walking for eight or nine hours, not counting several stops to relieve myself, when I saw smoke rising into the sky to the north. I felt like I’d maintained a good pace, but since I had no watch and lacked Eli’s ability to accurately tell time by looking at the sky, I could only guess that I’d gone about thirty miles. Which meant I might be seeing smoke from a campfire built by the Lord’s Army’s sister division Eli had mentioned.

  I left Interstate 70 to veer north, and after walking for another quarter of an hour, I realized that the smoke plume didn’t look right. It was too thick—more like a bonfire than a small hearth for each family unit. And the smoke was too dark, as if they were burning gas or oil rather than wood.

  Something was wrong.

  My pulse swishing in my ears, I pushed myself faster in spite of my aching feet and legs, and half a mile later the source of the smoke came into sight. It wasn’t a bonfire. It was the charred remains of a camper similar to the one Damaris drove while two of the Army’s young women held school for the children in the back.

  On the ground next to the camper lay two dead horses. Scattered in all directions from the fire were other signs of violent chaos. Clothing stomped into the dirt. Dented pots and pans. Scattered piles of freshly picked radishes and unwashed spinach. Hand-carved wooden toys and homemade leather pouches. Cowboy hats, most stomped into the ground and stained with blood.

  Eli’s sister division had been attacked, and other than half a dozen horses now grazing several hundred feet across a field full of knee-high wild grass, I couldn’t find any signs of life. But the closer I looked at the carnage, the more death I found.

  Two bodies lay on the ground near the dead horses, one a young man about my age whose leg had been crushed by the fallen animal, probably only moments before his head was crushed by…something else. Something blunt and deadly.

  Two older women lay near an unlit campfire, both twisted into unnatural positions. Their arms were covered with defensive wounds—one was obviously broken—and both had succumbed to gaping wounds in their chests. When my horrified gaze snagged on a gore-covered ax on the other side of the camp, I recognized the instrument of their deaths.

  There were several more corpses scattered around the campsite, and as I inspected the damage I realized three things about the slaughter I’d missed by no more than a few hours. One: not one of the bodies was ripped open, which told me they hadn’t been attacked by degenerates. Two: most of the bodies wore soft leather sleep clothes, which told me they’d been attacked late at night or early in the morning. And three: assuming this division was at least the size of Eli’s, there were far too few corpses.

  Most of the victims had been taken.

  Or so I thought, until metal squealed behind me.

  I spun, my pulse pounding in my throat, to find a girl around Melanie’s age standing in front of the open door of an old, rusty sedan. She held a tire iron in both hands like a bat, clearly ready to swing. “Who are you?” she demanded in a shaky voice, and behind her, movement from the sedan drew my attention to several small heads peeking over the backseat.

  “My name is Nina Kane.”

  Her eyes widened, and she took an unsteady step backward into the embrace of the open car door.

  “What happened here?” I asked when she seemed frozen with indecision. “Demons? Was it Kastor’s people?”

  “It was our people. Only they weren’t really. They woke us up before dawn. Four of them, wearing the skins of our friends and parents. One of them was my mother. Only she wasn’t. Not anymore.” The girl sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of one hand. “They killed the ones who fought, and burned Brother Malachi in the camper.” Her eyes filled with tears again when she glanced at the burned-out vehicle over my shoulder. “They took everyone else and only left me to care for the little ones.”

  Because they found child-rearing tedious but didn’t want to waste the potential future hosts.

  “But this is your fault,” the girl continued, and I frowned, confused. “They were looking for you!”

  “Me?” I stepped forward, hoping to hear her better, but she raised the tire iron and made a threatening noise deep in her throat. The children ducked out of sight in the sedan. They were all terrified, and I didn’t know how to convince them I was no threat.

  “They wanted to know if any of us knew Nina. Or Maddock. Or Finn,” she said, and horror tightened my chest. This was my fault, at least in part. Anathema had been the target. “There were other names, but those were the ones they said the most. Were they talking about you? Are those your brothers?”

  “Yes, that’s me.” I exhaled slowly, my mind racing. “The boys are my friends.” They were more than that, of course, but the fact that Kastor was out looking for us, leaving carnage in his path, underlined the urgency of my mission. “Eli Woods is my friend too. Do you know him? He’s a sentinel in another division of the Lord’s Army.”

  “Eli is my cousin,” the girl said.

  “Good.” I glanced past her into the car, where the children were peeking again, scared, their dark-eyed gazes trained on me. “Does that car run? Do you have gasoline?”

  She nodded.

  “Can you drive?” Church cities wouldn’t issue a driver’s license to a girl so young, but nomadic children seemed to learn everything early.

  Her second nod confirmed my guess.

  “Good. Pack up everything you can still use, then drive those children east on old Interstate 70 until you catch up with Eli’s division. Don’t stop for anything or anyone. They’re planning to spend a few days in what was once Salina, Kansas, before they move on. They’ll take you in. And with any luck, I’ll see you there on my way back through.”

  When I backed away from the car full of children, headed for one of the other vehicles, near the perimeter of the ruined campsite, the girl finally lowered her weapon. “Where are you going?”

  “Into the Lion’s Den.”

  “That’s where they took our people,” she called as I turned toward the nearest intact car, crossing my fingers that it had gasoline and that someone had left the keys behind. “Why would you go there?”

  “To kill the lions and set the lambs free.” I pulled open the driver’s-side door of a rusted, formerly slate-gray vehicle with large wheels, a high center of gravity, and a solid-looking roll cage. It was the kind of car Reese would have chosen. It would go fast if I had to run, and it wouldn’t get crushed if I flipped it over.

  Not that I was planning to flip it over.

  “They’ll kill you,” the girl warned, and I glanced back to see her holding a handmade leather back pouch, half-full of whatever supplies she’d been able to salvage.

  “Probably. But hopefully, by then the damage will already have been done.”

  The girl gave me a strange look while I searched the gray vehicle for the ignition key. “They’re usually over the visor,” she called. Then she straightened her shoulders, got into her sedan, and drove the car full of orphaned children east on I-70. I spared a moment to send up a prayer to Eli’s Lord that she and the children would make it unscathed.

  Then I slid into the driver’s seat of the gray car and pulled down the sun visor. Shade fell over my face and a set of keys dropped into my lap. I started the engine, and the arrow in the gas gauge swung up to just beneath the three-quarters-of-a-tank line.

  I took off toward the
west as fast as I could drive.

  The sun had just slipped beneath the horizon when Pandemonia came into sight, its buildings blazing in the distance like torches in the dark. Other than two periods of unconsciousness, I hadn’t slept in two days, and I had no expectation that that would change anytime soon.

  I hadn’t come to Pandemonia to rest.

  The glow from the demon city was an extravagant waste of energy and resources that Deacon Bennett would have condemned on sight. Where the Church subsisted on careful rationing of everything from city utilities to human hosts, I could see at a glance that Pandemonia was a bastion of excess.

  And if that wasn’t enough to set the two demonic civilizations apart, once I passed the abandoned suburbs and industrial districts and could see downtown, I realized that Pandemonia’s walls were as representative of the anomalous population they contained as were any of the Church’s city enclosures.

  Rather than a tall, smooth steel wall, welded and virtually seamless, Pandemonia’s defenses were a patchwork of metal—chair legs, chain-link fences, traffic barricades, car frames, shopping carts, garden gates, street grates, ladders, scaffolding, steel pipes—all apparently fused together by welders high on some sort of psychotropic drug. The effect was that of a metal briar patch surrounding the entire former downtown area, as far as I could tell, easily penetrable by light and sound but not by any creature larger than a cat.

  The only gap in the bizarre fusion of steel was the city gate, facing almost due east.

  I parked my borrowed car in the middle of the road a hundred feet from the gate, and for a moment I could only stare up at Pandemonia while I took deep breaths, trying to avert sheer panic. This was it. My chance to succeed where the Church had failed. To drive the worst of the demonic presence from earth and reclaim the badlands in the name of humanity.

  If I survived, I swore to myself, I’d go after the Church. Starting in New Temperance.