by S T Branton
The smile on its thin lips pulled back to reveal a set of glistening fangs. It could smell the essence of this boy’s life, soon to be snuffed out. A necessary sacrifice.
Everett pissed on a tree trunk and wished he could teleport back to the relative comfort of his sleeping bag. In a lot of ways, he thought he was unbelievably blessed under the circumstances. Most of their traveling party had to bunk down under whatever they could find at sundown, and the nights would only get longer.
He was really very fortunate.
As the thought entered his brain, he was distracted when the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His fingers paused in the middle of zipping his fly. He opened his ears, but all he heard was the oppressive silence of the forest.
Everett never saw what killed him and his friend in the tent never heard him die.
But the whole camp heard the whispers that made the rounds the next morning. Everett wandered off last night and never came back.
By afternoon, they’d found what was left of the body.
Chapter One
I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand, doing my best to clear the sleep-fog from my mind. In the east, the sun began to creep into the sky. Our camp, a hundred strong, slept peacefully behind us, unaware of the approaching mob. I shook my head and stifled a yawn. It was damn early, but the duty of defense waited for no one.
Fortunately, I had found over the past few days that in terms of energizers, a good ass-kicking ranked even higher than coffee.
“Here they come,” Deacon announced. The FBI agent stood to my left, his pistol raised and ready. Were-Maya and Brax were on my right. The demon’s hammer blazed in the grayish dawn, and he drummed his fingers impatiently on the handle.
“I wish they’d hurry it up,” he muttered.
We could see the Forgotten now, tracking toward us in a small horde—one of many since we’d left New York. They’d followed us the whole time, maybe hoping to overrun our group or to pick off stragglers. As the de facto security team, Deacon, Maya, Brax, and I were essentially on constant call, which meant that on most nights, we managed a minimum of sleep. A week or so into the journey, we were all paranoid and irritable, but we were exceptionally good at beating these waves of scumbags down.
I shook out the Gladius Solis blade. The enemy drew closer, and I picked out a whole variety pack in the front: half a gang of tattered satyrs, some Marked, a brigade of vampire cops, and even a centaur or two. Like us, they all looked worse for wear but ready to scrap. We were on one big collision course.
“Let’s do this quick, all right?” Brax grunted tersely. “I don’t like being out in the open for too long.”
“I bet you say that to all your partners.” I led the charge with my sword out and rammed the first of the satyrs. Everything about him reeked of cheap alcohol, and I kicked him away from me as he slid off the blade.
Staccato bursts of gunfire triggered around me. The bullets sent storms of leaves billowing up all over.
“Heads up!” I yelled at my team. “These guys are wasted.” I grabbed the nearest attacker by the front of his shirt and swung him into his staggering friends. Their hooves splayed awkwardly as they tumbled backward onto the dewy grass.
“At least somebody’s been having fun,” Deacon remarked. “No wonder they’re dropping like flies.”
It felt a little cheap to take the creatures out while they rolled in an alcohol-induced stupor at my feet, but all my misgivings crumbled away when I remembered the crew Maya and I had found looting the pharmacy. If there was any evidence that the foul-mouthed goat men were little more than flea-bitten sacks of garbage, I had yet to see it.
I knew a satyr once who was as sober as a councilman, Marcus claimed.
I dispatched the last one with mechanical precision. He didn’t even bleed from the instantly cauterized wound. “Why do I find that impossible to believe? These guys would bleed five-dollar whiskey if they could. Are you sure he wasn’t merely a goat?
You know, Marcus said, smiling, I do often find it difficult to tell the difference.
I snorted and slashed my way through another cloven-hoofed drunkard. “Either your jokes are improving, or my sense of humor’s been worn down by constant exposure.”
I will accept either circumstance.
The furious drumming of hooves intruded on Marcus’s voice. I looked up to see one of the centaurs bear down on me, brandishing his spear. The chain brand wrapped around his powerful torso remained a deactivated, dull gray. Apparently, freedom from Rocca had done little to improve the searing hatred he felt for my face.
“Oh, shit.” The spear point arced downward, and I dropped almost prone in the wet groundcover, throwing out my sword. The centaur had leaned in to stab me when his pumping legs collided with the blade. The next thing I knew, he had flown fifty feet beyond me, carried by wild momentum and permanently separated from three of his horsey legs. Off to the glue factory with him.
Your reaction time is improving.
“Think so? You should see me when I’m awake.”
“Damn, girl!” Deacon called. “Simmer down. It’s too early to look that cool.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know, sometimes, you really nail that ‘lame dad’ vibe. You’re like the only person under fifty who’s ever told me to simmer down.” I turned toward the pack of cops. “Cover me while I handle this, would you?”
“You’re gonna ask me for cover after getting up on my steez like that?” The agent dropped his empty clip and replaced it in one smooth motion. He handled his weapon with the easy deftness born of years of practice.
I shook my head. “See, there you go again. I haven’t heard the word ‘steez’ in at least twenty years.”
He opened fire, and I sent the Gladius Solis among the hail of bullets before running to catch up with it as it zoomed back to me. The burning blade cut a wide semicircle through yielding vamp flesh. Soon, I waded through a persistent haze of dead bloodsucker dust.
My eyes narrowed to slits, and I covered my nose and mouth with my free arm. “Why can’t they turn into something that’s not airborne?”
“We need to get you a respirator,” Deacon said. He popped a few more in the head, one after the other. “That shit can’t be good for your lungs.”
I shrugged. “Probably no worse than city air.” But it did mess with my range of visibility and stung my eyes a little. “Brax? How you doing?” I turned to see him standing calmly atop a small mountain of Forgotten, his hammer propped head-down on the summit.
“Me?” The demon smirked. “I can do this all day.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to see a doctor after four hours,” I shot back.
Brax laughed. “Not until it starts to hurt. And I feel brand fucking new.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of Were-Maya’s trademark battle chaos. I followed it in time to see her rip a cop in half like he was made of paper. “If you wanna talk about doctors, I think you oughta start with her.
“She is the doctor,” I said. We both smirked. “I—"
The rest of my response was cut off by a heavy choking, gurgling sound at my back. Something humanoid flashed by at an incredible rate of speed, trailing flecks of viscous liquid and an overpowering stench. It missed me by inches and slammed into the Deacon. The breath rushed from his lungs as he fell, pinned beneath the writhing creature.
“Deacon!” I launched into a running leap, but a sharp crack left the monster limp before I could even get close. All three of us, Brax included, wheeled around to see Steph, her blonde hair perfectly coiffed even at this ungodly hour, lower her gun.
The agent shoved the corpse away and brushed himself off. “Thanks, Steph. That was one hell of a save. Though I have to say, it was a little close.”
She dismissed him breezily. “Oh, please, Deacon. No need to pretend you forgot I’m a better shot than you. Besides, I wouldn’t miss this for the end of the world.” She glanced at the group, counting in her head, then seemed to notice M
aya for the first time. “Wow. She really is something else.”
We all turned and observed as the werewolf finished cleaning house and dropped the last of the mob into the dirt. She rejoined our group, transforming on her approach. Brax and Deacon looked away. Steph did too, though reluctantly. I took my coat off and tossed it to Maya.
“What?” She grinned broadly, caught the garment, and wrapped it around her naked body. Not the fullest coverage, but better than nothing.
I gave her shoulder a gentle punch. “Merely watching the doctor work. You get better every day.”
“Remind me to bring some extra clothes next time. I keep forgetting that part.”
“You ought to be proud,” Steph interjected. “It’s a very impressive skill.”
Maya glanced at her, still smiling. “Nudity isn’t a skill, but thank you. That’s the thing about doctors. We practice.”
“Come on.” I slung my arm across her shoulders. “We’d better get back to camp. If the last few days are any indication, these fights aren’t even close to being over.”
Chapter Two
We reached the clearing beside the river where the bulk of the camp was located, a sprawling shantytown spread out under the open sky. Somewhere around a hundred people, most of them families, lived in this mess of shitty tents, makeshift shelters, and hand-dug firepits. We’d camped in the Delaware Water Gap for half a week. Everything was dirty, muddy, and cold. Everyone was hungry. The supplies we could scrounge weren’t always enough, and we would need to make another run soon.
“Hey, guys!” Jules’ voice pulled me from my thoughts. She hurried out of the middle of the clearing, waving. “How’d it go?”
I looked to either side. “The fight was a piece of cake. But we need to figure out what the hell we’re doing from here on out.”
Jules nodded. “I’ve been talking with the others, and I think they feel the same way. Why don’t we all try to hammer out a strategy right now while we’ve got a moment?”
“It’s the best chance we’ve got,” Deacon agreed. He glanced at me as Jules turned toward the camp. “Right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s go.” The encampment centered around a sheet of canvas strung up like a teepee between a little copse of trees in the center. Two figures—a man and a woman—stood in front of the impromptu command center, talking quietly. There was something about her wild fall of deep red hair that I recognized. When she turned toward me, I realized that the last time I’d seen her, she’d been climbing out a window of Lorcan’s vamp factory slaughterhouse. Our eyes met, and a wide smile bloomed across her features.
“I wondered if I’d ever see you again,” she said. “I never got a chance to thank you properly for saving us from that hellhole.” She extended her hand. “My name is Veronica.”
“Right.” I shook her hand. The woman had an astoundingly firm grip. “Big Red.” These last two words stumbled from my mouth before I had a chance to realize how idiotic they made me sound. But Veronica laughed, which made the crushing embarrassment somewhat bearable.
“That’ll do,” she said, tossing her mane.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“Hey, I’ve been called worse. Besides, you saved my bacon back in that place—me and a bunch of others. You can call me whatever the hell you want.”
We formed a tight semicircle outside the teepee, blocking prying eyes or would-be eavesdroppers. It was probably an unnecessary precaution anyway. Most people were probably too preoccupied with simply getting by to pay much attention to us. Still, an undertone of quiet desperation pushed closer to the surface with each passing day. It was impossible to predict what could happen when things finally boiled over.
Like always, we needed a plan and fast.
“Okay, guys.” I scanned the circle of faces. Sandwiched between Veronica and Jules was another relative newcomer, a soldier from the reinforcements who had joined us at Lincoln Tunnel. He and a small group of elite infantrymen had fought their way out of New York alongside us, earning him a place on our team. I looked at him first. “Reports, please. How are we doing?”
Dan spoke with the easy confidence of a natural leader. Before it all went to hell, he’d been nowhere near top brass but now was the best they had. He had risen to the occasion with commendable dignity. “My men are in pretty fine spirits, all things considered,” he said. “That’s not to say it isn’t all absolute shit—it is. We’re up to our eyes in it, but no one’s complaining. This is what we’ve trained for.”
“Ha,” Brax scoffed. “Humans of this age know nothing of war.”
The soldier scratched the stubble on his jaw and said, “I think you guys know a little too much about it.” Without missing a beat, he continued. “I’ve taken the liberty of sending them out to patrol the perimeter, though I don’t recommend staying here for too much longer. I think one more night, max.”
The demon scowled. He brushed off the slight but one hand tightened briefly into a fist.
This newcomer is a man of action. I approve wholeheartedly.
“That’s an incredibly optimistic estimate, Dan,” Veronica replied. “We’re ‘staying put’ because we have to. You and I aren’t representative of the whole group.” She turned to me. “People are scared to death, Vic. They’re also tired, hungry, sick, and wounded. We literally cannot move any faster than we have been, and even that is pushing it. The medical needs will only increase from here as the weather gets worse.”
Maya nodded vigorously. “That’s what I’ve been saying, too. We’re putting a hell of a lot of folks at risk like this.”
“What are we supposed to do?” Dan spoke with urgent concern. “This isn’t a good spot to take our time. If we are attacked in the clearing, we’ll be overexposed and run the risk of massive casualties. If it happens on the move, people will scatter into the trees. The group might split, but they’d have a fighting chance for survival in the forest.”
“For how long?” Jules entered the verbal fray. “That might be true for someone healthy, but we’re talking about children and the elderly as well as the sick and injured. We can’t be responsible for leaving them to fend for themselves.”
The soldier frowned. “Of course we wouldn’t leave without them. As soon as it was safe, we’d round everyone up and continue.”
“Why bother?” asked Brax. “It would be an opportunity to cull the herd, so to speak, and improve the odds for the rest.”
Maya glared at him. “Don’t say that. No one gets left behind.”
He folded his arms disapprovingly but didn’t argue.
“The question we should address,” Steph chimed in, “is how to maximize the chances of survival for everyone most efficiently. I personally believe our defense force, however small it may be, is currently more than capable of repelling attacks. I suggest we focus on searching for somewhere we can hunker down, fortify our position, and tend to those who need it.”
Deacon agreed. “The thing is, everyone’s right. We’re too vulnerable here, but we can’t march these poor refugees all across the country. It’d defeat the purpose of saving them in the first place. I say we scout ahead and see if we can find somewhere that might work. There has to be a suitable place around here.”
“Vic?” Jules touched my arm. “You’ve been quiet. What do you think?”
I drew in a deep breath of dense, cold forest air. The river continued to rush in the background of my thoughts, filling my head with more white noise. “I’m…not sure.”
What I really wanted to do was simple: I wanted to station Dan’s men on guard at the camp, take my team, and search for the source of the continuing problems. Even if there were no official gods in charge at the moment, I knew they had to be out there, and they were probably watching. I wanted to find them, and when we found them, I wanted to open multiple cans of whoop-ass in their otherworldly faces.
Not the most elegant plan, but it sure would’ve made me feel a whole lot better. As it stood, I understood that my heart�
��s brute force desire was all but impossible. I was at the head of the pack, meaning I had a responsibility to do the right thing. Unfortunately, it was also up to me to decide exactly what the “right thing” was. The pressure felt like an elephant doing cartwheels on my shoulders. It would be so easy to do something very, very wrong.
“Vic?” Jules said my name again, her periwinkle eyes darkening with a hint of worry. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” The roots of a headache threatened to wind themselves around my temples. I’d begun to warm up to the idea of leadership in a selective sense. I could deal with my little band of badasses. Having to steer this whole massive ship was never something I had wanted.
Fighting evil monsters was so much easier than being a leader. Send a herd of centaurs at me, and I barely had to think. Swarm me with vampires, and I’d turn them all to dust. Ask me to make decisions regarding a hundred helpless people, and I stumbled around in the dark, unable to find any answers.
Then again, I knew I had no choice. Ultimately, I had made the decision to save as many as I could. There was no one to take my place if I abandoned them.
It felt shitty, like I was copping out of something I should’ve been able to handle on the spot, but the gravity of it all made my brain spin.
“We only want what’s best for everyone involved,” Veronica said.
“There is no blanket solution,” Brax interrupted brusquely. “You humans are too soft and accommodating. Allow sacrifices to be made for the greater good. That is what it means to succeed.”
“Careful,” Dan warned. “Not everyone’s definition of success includes a body count.”
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” said Brax, “but ours already does.”
