“No matter what happens, we’ll help you.” I sighed. “Isda, we’re trying to give everyone the right to choose what their life will be like. We can’t let Perfects or some Ta’Zan dude tell us whether we deserve to live or not. That’s insane. We’ve lived without them for so long, and we’ll keep living, long after they’re gone.”
“Just promise you won’t forget about us,” Isda murmured, then pushed through a small door and led us both outside.
I stilled for a moment, feeling the salty air gently caressing my face. It was a little past midnight, and the bluish moon was out and glowing gracefully, casting its diaphanous light over the thick jungle around us. I could hear the sound of running water nearby.
“I won’t. I promise, Isda. You deserve a shot at a good life, just like everyone else. Not as a slave, or a servant, or a mild-mannered inferior life form. But as a creature with a heart and a soul, and a right to pursue your own happiness.”
We ran into the deep woods, enveloped by darkness and the soft sound of insects chirping. I could breathe again, away from that damn shock collar and the cruel beauty of our diamond prison. I worried about the others, but I took comfort in what Isda had just said—Ta’Zan had more use for them if they were alive. But their predicament made my work all the more important. I had to find Ben and Rose, and I most certainly had to find my sister. She was worried sick about me, for sure.
We reached a swollen tributary wide enough to make crossing it quite a challenge—for a non-vampire, of course. For me, it was a walk in the park.
“You’re not crossing the river,” Isda said, then pointed at a distant spot to our right. “You’re jumping into the waterfall. You’ll follow the stream to the east. Always east. You’ll find your friends if you keep going east.”
“Where were they last seen? Do you know?”
“I don’t. But the most recent report from Araquiel suspected that the outsiders have teamed up with Raphael, and that they were headed east, toward the summer-winter clusters,” she replied. She noticed my confusion and decided to further explain. “It’s a hostile area about three hundred miles east of here. No one ventures out there because it’s difficult to navigate. The weather conditions are extreme, with hot and cold pockets, and violent storms in between. The outsiders might be looking to hide there, in order to fend off their Perfect hunters.”
I nodded slowly, watching the crystalline river disappear below, approximately fifty feet from where we stood. Small animals gathered on the other side to drink, occasionally looking behind them to make sure there weren’t predators nearby. Murmurs erupted from behind. The coliseum was quite loud, even from half a mile away.
“What will you do?” I asked her.
“I’ll go back,” she replied with a soft smile.
“Won’t you be in trouble?”
“No one saw me anywhere near the riot,” she said, then shrugged. “Worst-case scenario is I’ll have to answer some questions, or maybe get some jail time, if Amal ratted me out. I don’t know how to lie, though, so that’ll be a challenge.”
“Hey, you’ve made it this far. Frankly, I wasn’t even sure you’d help, to begin with.” I chuckled. “But you surprised me. It shows potential. You’re clearly undervalued here. I’m sure you’ll be okay. Just… take care of my people, if you can. Once we start bringing Ta’Zan’s empire down, it’ll get messy.”
Isda nodded firmly, then motioned for me to go.
“Leave, Varga. Before they track you here,” she said. “Take advantage of the water. Stay near the stream. Move as little as you can during the day. And always hide your tracks,” she added, then handed me a black leather pouch filled with a strange mineral dust. “Scatter this behind you whenever you’re on dry land. It’ll absorb the traces of smell you leave behind.”
“Thank you, Isda. You’re amazing.”
“Just know that the Faulties are beginning to see the full picture now, just like Monos and me. And with Amal’s betrayal, it’ll just make them even angrier and more determined to clap back against Father. We know the truth, Varga. Father doesn’t have our best interests at heart. He never did. And Amal ruined herself when she chose to side with him, turning against us. There’s hope here. So, come back for me. I’ll be waiting,” she replied, then breathed out and walked back into the woods, vanishing behind the thick and gnarled trees.
Isda’s support had come as a pleasant surprise. She was kind of a late bloomer, as far as rebellions went. But I was determined to come back for her, for Monos, and everyone else who didn’t share Ta’Zan’s delusion about a Perfect world.
She was right, though. Amal had lost all credibility in front of her own people. That wasn’t going to work out in her favor.
I was on my own now. I had a sister to find, and a lot of Ta’Zan’s wrongs to make right.
But first, I had a waterfall to jump into.
Draven
We were close to midnight now.
Our deadline in the Draenir tribe had expired, and we’d failed to make any progress. They had limited supplies of serium-fueled weapons, including the pulverizer capsules, which could obliterate an object and turn it into dust. I could only imagine what damage it could deliver to a Perfect.
But we didn’t just need weapons. We needed intel and support on the ground—locals who knew Strava well enough to help us move around, ideally undetected. The more of us who rose against the Perfects, the better our chances of success.
This wasn’t about organizing riots and revolutions. This wasn’t about all-out war.
No, this was about getting enough people on our side to help us sneak into Ta’Zan’s compound and get our people out. To help us destroy Ta’Zan and find a way to keep the Perfects under control. If the latter failed, we needed the firepower required to destroy them—something only Ta’Zan had, in the absence of more pulverizer capsules.
Frustration was making my blood boil. I’d been trying to speak to Rakkhan again, after he’d caught me with Wallah in the stronghold, but the old Draenir didn’t want to have anything to do with us, at that point. He’d given us until midnight to pack up and be on our way, but I had yet to give up hope.
“Will you try again?” Serena asked.
I looked around in our little spot inside the camp, noticing the hopeful expressions of everyone in our crew. Avril, Heron, and his nine wards, Taeral and Bijarki, and even Bogdana and Lumi—they were all watching me. They were counting on me, and I refused to let them down.
“I have to,” I replied, then kissed my wife. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight, thankful to feel her soul so close to mine, so open and vibrant and full of energy. I may not have become a sentry from our union, but our souls were definitely bound and perfectly attuned to one another. And her soul sang to me of persistence and resilience—the same that had gotten us through the war against Azazel.
I dug deep into myself until I found that spirit, then stood and gave Serena a warm smile. “I’d say wish me luck, but we both know this isn’t about luck anymore.”
“Then I can only wish your mind to stay clear and focused, my love,” she replied gently.
“Don’t be afraid to play dirty,” Lumi interjected. “We’re past the point of politeness, Druid. And we both know we have what it takes to force the Draenir to comply.”
I nodded slowly. “I know. I just wish we didn’t have to resort to such measures.”
“I’d be wary of attacking them. You’ve seen what those weapons can do,” Taeral muttered.
“We wouldn’t be attacking them. Not physically, anyway,” Lumi replied. “We have leverage, young prince. Remember, the Draenir are trying to stay hidden here. They will do anything to keep their location a secret. And that’s what we must work with if we want them to willingly work with us. Well, begrudgingly, but willingly.”
I took a moment to gather my thoughts, then quietly made my way toward Rakkhan’s cabin, on the other side of the camp. I felt the Draenir’s eyes on me, but I kept mine foc
used on the wooden door of the Elder’s home. He was going to hear me this time, and he wasn’t going to like me.
The young guards, stationed outside his place, saw me coming and moved in to greet me, their weapons out and firmly gripped. I stopped and smiled at them.
“I seek one last audience with the Elder Rakkhan before my people and I leave,” I said.
“He’s busy,” one youth replied.
“It’s the last time I will bother him,” I promised.
He sighed, then went up the stairs and knocked on the cabin door. A moment later, Rakkhan’s head popped out, his brows furrowed. The youth murmured something, prompting the Elder to look at me and scoff.
Nevertheless, it worked.
The guards stepped aside, and I joined Rakkhan in his cabin.
A minute went by in silence as Rakkhan shut the door and settled in a chair by the small fireplace in his living area. It was a nice and homey place, not at all luxurious, but definitely better kept than the tents outside. I had a feeling that Rakkhan didn’t want to lose such minor, but pleasant, privileges.
“So, you’re all leaving,” he finally said.
“I’m hoping I’ll leave with your support,” I replied bluntly.
“I told you no, over and over. You cannot possibly be this thick,” Rakkhan grumbled, crossing his arms.
“Will you really just cower and hide in this place, while Ta’Zan, the product of your society, goes out and destroys the entire universe? Is your conscience dead, Rakkhan?”
“There is nothing we can do! I’ve told you before. He’s too powerful! Our weapons and resources are not enough. Gathering more will take time and manpower, neither of which we have. So, yes, we’re better off here, surviving in this little corner of Strava, than going out to face that damn monster!”
I shook my head in disappointment. “Then you leave me no choice, Rakkhan, but to squeeze the door on you. I’m sorry.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Ta’Zan doesn’t know where you are. That you’re still alive. It will take a minimum amount of effort for us to inform him otherwise. And if you’re thinking of killing us in order to stop that from happening, rest assured that we have contingency plans in place. Someone will tell him. And then, you know what will happen next.”
Rakkhan said nothing for a good minute. He was shaken to his core, but he was doing his damned best not to show it.
“I could also have our swamp witch manipulate you into saying yes. But that would be cheating. I’d rather you help us willingly, with a clear mind,” I added.
“You call this ‘willingly?’ Blackmail?!” he shouted, his face flushed.
“You’re not giving me much of a choice, Rakkhan. I told you! I will stop at nothing to save my people! My world! And yours, for that matter!” I replied, matching his volume.
Rakkhan stilled, then shot to his feet. “I need to show you something.”
He motioned for me to follow him into another room. At first glance, it looked like a small study, but there was a cellar door hidden beneath a carpet, which he pulled back. I went downstairs, after him, mindful of the narrow steps.
It was a dark passageway that seemed to go on for hundreds of yards.
At the very end, a white metal door awaited.
“No one knows about this part of the stronghold,” Rakkhan said. “And that’s because I didn’t want anyone knowing what’s in there. My people couldn’t bear to see what I’ve seen.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
He punched a code into the small keypad, then opened the door. It led us into a circular chamber similar to the ones I’d seen inside the underground stronghold. The presence of a second door confirmed my ongoing suspicion: this was connected to the Draenir’s safety bunker.
This room, however, was slightly different.
Its walls were covered in massive screens, while the bottom halves were lined with computer panels and keyboards. Rakkhan placed his hand against a small glass screen, which lit up green once it scanned his prints.
“This is what we call a memory room. Thousands of years’ worth of archives, stored on small little discs and chips, containing our history, our recorded memories, all our knowledge and data. A treasure trove for many. A source of much grief for me, personally,” he said.
“What is it you want to show me?” I asked, somewhat confused. This was definitely a wonderful place to stumble upon, but it wasn’t a good time for any kind of research.
“The reason I know, for a fact, that Ta’Zan will succeed in everything he wishes to accomplish. The reason I am so, so desperate to keep my people hidden from him,” Rakkhan replied.
“Enough riddles, Rakkhan. Please.”
He nodded, then pressed several keys on one of the control panels. The screens lit up, and a bunch of moving footage came on—most of it scenes from what appeared to be a Draenir laboratory.
“This is Ta’Zan,” Rakkhan said. “These are logs from his last Draenir laboratory, before he moved away with his Faulties.”
Ta’Zan was accompanied by two female Faulties. I recognized Amane from the data we’d gotten from Ben and Rose, and it only took a half-second to deduce that the female next to her was Amal, her twin sister. Behind them were four glass boxes, with ventilation systems mounted on the tops. Inside were four adult Draenir, all males, seemingly desperate and terrified. They didn’t belong there…
“What is this?” I asked, my voice barely audible.
“Listen.”
He turned the volume up, just in time for us to hear Ta’Zan’s smooth voice. “Lot number 27. We’ve made progress from the previous viral batch. It is now airborne, and it is perfectly tailored only for the full Draenir. Unless the organism is 100 percent Draenir, the viral infection will manifest as the common cold, then lay dormant inside the body until it comes across a full Draenir. Once it does, the results… well, they speak for themselves,” Ta’Zan said, clearly pleased with himself.
I then watched him take a glass sphere filled with a bright yellow liquid, which he mounted into a circular slot on the ventilation system’s panel. He pressed a couple of buttons, until a loud hiss erupted, and the yellow liquid was vaporized into a mist and transferred through the ventilation tubes, filling the four Draenir’s glass boxes.
My heart sank when the effects began to manifest. The Draenir began to cough and choke on their own blood, hemorrhaging through every single orifice, their pristine skin turned blotchy and raw. Within minutes they were dead, and Ta’Zan was smiling. Amal and Amane were both quiet, but neither looked at peace.
“As exhibited by this batch, the viral infection is incredibly fast and efficient at a full concentration,” Ta’Zan added. “I will, however, lower it and release it into the atmosphere. It will stick like a bad flu at first. Then it will kill them off. If I let it out at full power, they’ll know I had something to do with it. I must give the Draenir credit where they’re due. I need to kill them off gradually. They will study the virus, anyway, but they’ll treat it as a natural aberration. It will be too late by the time they figure out that it was made with elements from their own… pantry.” He chuckled, then ended the recording.
The screens went black.
Minutes went by in harrowing silence, as I tried to connect the dots.
Rakkhan helped me, though, noticing my expression. “You didn’t see it coming, did you?” he asked, rhetorically. “We didn’t either. At first, only those who prosecuted and imprisoned Mudak Marduk died of a then-mysterious viral infection. An earlier version of what you just saw.”
“How… Why?”
“Mudak created Ta’Zan. He went against many Draenir principles when he designed Ta’Zan’s genetic blueprint. He broke numerous codes by raising and educating him. Ta’Zan was simply far too advanced, even for our society, and he quickly became dangerous. Mudak didn’t see it until it was too late. Until Ta’Zan began creating his own people, the Faulty, and started killing some of th
e Elders. Ta’Zan went into hiding, right in one of our cities. Mudak was prosecuted and sent to prison, charged with crimes against the people.”
“He created Ta’Zan, and was thus held responsible,” I muttered, doing my best to ignore the nauseating ball gathering in my throat.
“Exactly. Mudak went to prison for life, while the rest of us scrambled to capture and destroy the most intelligent and dangerous creature in our world. Ta’Zan had started out as a brilliant hybrid, but he could never fit in. I’m not sure when it started to go south, but all I know is that he devolved into a coldblooded and calculated monster. It got worse when Mudak killed himself.”
I stared at Rakkhan for a moment. “What? Why?”
“Guilt, I suppose. Mudak knew what he’d created. He felt terrible. He couldn’t bear to live with himself, according to the note he left behind,” Rakkhan explained. “But when word of his death reached Ta’Zan, all hell broke loose,” he added, then pointed at the screens. “Ta’Zan further developed the plague virus, then released it into the atmosphere.”
“So, the plague that wiped out the Draenir… that was all Ta’Zan’s doing,” I croaked, the truth finally sinking in.
“Yes. And it never really went away,” Rakkhan said. “It definitely died out with the Draenir, while the rest of us got away and sought refuge here, on Merinos. A plague can only spread so far, unaided by bodies.”
“Ta’Zan said it only kills those who are 100 percent Draenir,” I replied.
“The Faulties that were with him most likely carry the virus to this day, still. Or at least some of them do. The twins, definitely.” Rakkhan sighed. “If we come in contact with him or the Faulties again, now, it’ll be the end of our people. This time, for good. We were unable to find a cure to it then; we most certainly won’t find it now. We tried everything. Even Druid and swamp witch magic. We had some knowledge and resources at the time. Not anymore.”
I exhaled sharply, rattled by grief.
“So, you see, Druid, if you give away our location, Ta’Zan will finish the job. He will destroy us all. He has no use for us in his labs anymore. He will kill us out of spite. He considers us all responsible for the death of his maker. He never forgave us, he never will. And, as I’ve said before, when Ta’Zan sets his mind on something, he does it. No matter what. He wiped out an entire civilization simply because he could.”
A Shade of Vampire 64: A Camp of Savages Page 24
