The Torn World: The Harvesting Series Book 5

by Melanie Karsak

  I pulled the Range Rover into the parking lot of the municipal building. The administrative offices sat on the first floor. In a basement below were the equipment rooms and garage which let out onto the alleyway behind the building. If I remembered correctly, the salt was stored in the garage below. When everything had fallen apart, someone had boarded up the windows on the municipal building. They’d found some undead inside during our initial sweep of the town. After that, we’d just locked up the building with a chain.

  “We’ll need to go downstairs,” I told Zoey as we approached the door. “We’ll get the garage open, see if there are any trucks down there that will start. Otherwise, we’ll just pull the SUV around.”

  Zoey nodded, but her brow was furrowed.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Just a weird feeling.”

  When we got to the door, Zoey’s weird feeling made sense. The chain around the door handle was gone. I tried the door. It opened easily.

  “Okay,” I said slowly. “That’s not right. The door used to have a chain.”

  “Maybe we should get the guys,” Zoey said, eyeing the building.

  I looked up at the sky. The sun was already beginning to drop toward the lake. I shook my head. “We’re running out of time.”

  “Shit. Yeah. I know. Okay, well, let’s go see,” she said then pulled her gun.

  Reaching inside my vest, I pulled out the little water gun filled with holy water and handed it to her. “Just in case.”

  “Great.”

  I pulled my shashka and we crept inside. With the windows boarded shut, the place was completely dark. There was a spray of blood on the wall near the reception area. I motioned to Zoey to follow me as we turned left and moved down the hallway toward the back stairwell. The place had a sharp smell. The musty and decaying scent assailed my nose. Zoey snapped on her flashlight. With the office doors all closed, the only light from outside was that coming in from the front door. The back of the building was dark and silent.

  “Let’s check the rooms,” I whispered.

  My shashka ready, Zoey’s gun drawn, one by one we opened the office doors. Signs of struggle were apparent, desks overturned, papers lying everywhere, but there was no sign of anyone. But Zoey was right. Something felt strange here.

  “Let’s go downstairs,” I whispered.

  The rooms clear, we exited the first floor and descended the back stairwell. The stairwell was dimly-lit by a battery-powered exit sign.

  As we rounded the stairs, my heart started beating harder. Something wasn’t right here. Something was off.

  “Hey,” Zoey said, shining her flashlight on the wall. “There’s a fallout shelter here?”

  I followed the beam of light. On the wall was a sign for an emergency shelter. There were two in town, one here and one at the library, but they were old and empty. The one in the library had been used for storage. Ian’s group had checked out the one here. I hadn’t even remembered it.

  “I…I think we need to hurry,” I said, my stomach twisting into a knot.

  Zoey nodded then pushed open the door. We went inside the garage.

  “Let’s get the garage doors open. Quickly,” I said, but then I paused. Inside my head, I heard muttering voices. I heard conversation, but could not make out the words. I’d heard such chatter before.

  Seeing the impression on my face, Zoey stopped. “Layla?

  From somewhere in the back of the garage, I heard chains rattle and the sound of a door slowly opening.

  “Oh shit,” Zoey said, then turned and ran toward the garage door.

  Moving backward toward Zoey, my blade poised and ready, my eyes searched the darkness. There was a strange smell in the room and a weird chill like someone had left a refrigerator door open. Had they been in the fallout center? Had they been hiding here? But if they were here, what was in the cemetery?

  “Is that you, Miss Katana?” I heard a woman ask. She had a heavy accent. It wasn’t Rumor. The voice lacked the seductive purr, but I’d heard this voice before. “We’ve been waiting for the bogatyrka to come home. How nice of you to come to us.”

  “Layla, the door is too heavy. I can’t lift it,” Zoey said, panic filling her voice.

  Moving quickly, I turned and pushed, but something was wrong. I scanned my flashlight above to discover the mechanism above the door was broken.

  “Can we make it back to the stairs?” Zoey whispered.

  “No, you cannot,” a male voice called from the back of the room.

  That made two of them. How many more?

  Taking Zoey by the arm, I pulled her to the next garage door. We heaved hard, but the door didn’t budge.

  Motioning, I pointed toward the exit sign above the main door.

  “Where are you going, bogatyrka? Don’t you want to see what the sunlight did to my pretty face?” the woman called.

  I flashed my light toward the back of the garage in time to see a familiar face with blonde hair. It was Katya, Rumor’s main henchman at the Harpwind. The skin on one side of her face was completely scorched, and her eye drooped. She grinned wildly then disappeared, fluttering away from my beam of light.

  “I don’t think she missed you,” another female voice called from the darkness.

  That made three.

  “But I’ve been waiting for her all this time. I wanted to show her what her handiwork did. Those of us who survived the Harpwind barely made it to that abandoned tanker in time. And even then, not all of us survived. The sun scorched many of my comrades, and gave me this beauty mark. But I am glad you’re here now. How did you know where to find us? We thought for certain you’d find the little surprise we left for you in the cemetery.”

  My heart beat hard. “What surprise?”

  She laughed but didn’t answer.

  I moved quietly and carefully toward the door. Clearly, we were in trouble. But so were the others.

  I took a deep breath and reached for Zoey’s hand. Moving slowly, I snapped off her flashlight then turned off mine as well. I dropped the light then reached into my pocket and pulled out a syringe. Holding the shashka in one hand and a syringe in the other, I moved toward the door.

  “You’re not coming this way, are you?” a voice called from the direction of the door. I swished the shashka in front of me while pulling Zoey against me, lining us up back to back.

  My senses told me they were close. Too close.

  “See. See everything.”

  I took a deep breath and listened. I could hear them talking.

  “Block her.”

  “I’ve got her. They’re headed this way.”

  “Get her. Now!”

  “Zoey, shoot the gun I gave you,” I screamed, lunging forward into the darkness with a slashing movement. My blade connected with something hard, and I heard the male grunt.

  Nearby, a woman screamed.

  “What is this? What have you done?”

  Zoey snapped on her flashlight to see a female vampire writhing on the floor near her. She sprayed the woman again. The vampire screamed out in agony. There was a sharp smell of sulfur in the air as the female vampire melted.

  On the ground in front of me, the male vampire grabbed his side then rose. His wound was healing. Moving fast, I spun my blade toward his head, but he morphed into shadow and retreated.

  Grabbing Zoey by the arm, I ran toward the door and flung it open. Dim sunlight shimmered above the lake. Ruby red and burnt orange colors illuminated the skyline. We were too late to help the guys.

  A moment later, the two vampires appeared at the door.

  “Run,” I told Zoey.

  The male vampire gritted his teeth and burst out of the door. He hit Zoey with such force that the little water gun flew out of her hand and tumbled across the parking lot.

  “Layla! Help,” Zoey yelled.

  In the dying sunlight, the vampire smoldered, wisps of black smoke rising off him, but he didn’t die. I flicked the cap off the needle a
nd raced toward the vampire as Zoey struggled to evade his bite. Heaving my hand up, I slammed the syringe into his back and pressed the plunger. Suddenly another body smacked into me, and I tumbled to the side.

  Catching my footing as quickly as possible, I held my shashka tightly and spun on Katya. Like the male vampire, she too burned in the dimming sunlight. But she didn’t seem to care. She gritted her fanged teeth and lunged at me. I swiped my sword. She was so fast. I twirled my blade over my head then slashed. Katya swept in and bashed me hard in the stomach. I stumbled back among a clutch of pine trees. She advanced on me, now sheltered from the sun by the shade.

  “Katya, stop this. We never wanted any trouble from you. Just leave us. You don’t have to die,” I told her.

  “I cannot leave you. Don’t you understand? This isn’t about revenge. It’s about survival. Without your blood, we’re dead. I hate you, but I need you to survive.”

  From behind us, the vampire man screamed loudly. Zoey pushed him off then jumped to the side. The man convulsed on the pavement as Zoey stood over him. A moment later, Zoey took out her gun and shot him in the head.

  Distracted by the scene, I was startled when Katya screamed loudly and lunged at me. But this time, she was stopped in her tracks as one of the undead burst through the trees and grabbed her, knocking her to the ground. Katya howled as the undead man bit into her throat. Her scream died with a gurgle of blood. Zoey ran toward me. She lifted her gun and aimed it at the undead man who rose the moment Katya’s feet went still.

  Then, realization washed over me.

  Moving quickly, I pushed Zoey’s hand aside a fraction of a second before she pulled the trigger.

  Bark flew off a tree nearby.

  The undead man turned then, blood dripping off his chin, and looked at me.

  “Jamie?” I whispered.

  CHAPTER 43: LAYLA

  “LAYLA,” JAMIE WHISPERED IN MY MIND.

  “How did you get here?”

  “The mist. I got lost in the mist. I was…confused. And then I ended up here.”

  “Jamie?” I said softly, stepping toward him. It was him but not him. His skin was white, as were his eyes. The blood around his mouth was a gruesome sight. My heart hurt so badly, pain squeezing my chest.

  “Layla, be careful,” Zoey cautioned.

  “She’s right. I’m not…I’m not the same. I think the doctor—”

  “She infected you. I know. We tried her cure on another…like you. It doesn’t work on those who’ve already turned.”

  “Layla. It hurts. The hunger. I can’t…I’m not safe. I’m not the same. Please shoot me.”

  “No. I can’t,” I whispered.

  “The vampires were waiting for you. I watched them. I knew you would come home. I waited for you. I just wanted you to be safe. Please, please end it.”

  “Jamie, I love you. I can’t.”

  “Her,” he said, motioning to Zoey.

  “Oh, please don’t ask that.”

  “Layla,” Zoey said, looking sadly at Jamie. It was clear that she’d read between the lines.

  “Don’t let me go on like this. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I can barely control it. I can’t go on like this.”

  “Zoey, go start the SUV. We need to get to the cemetery. The others are in danger,” I said, tossing the keys to her.

  “Are you…”

  “I’m coming.”

  She took the keys then left, leaving me and Jamie alone.

  “You’re not gone. You’re still here. You’re still you.”

  “No. It’s taking everything I have inside me not to attack you, not to eat you. The desire is nearly overwhelming,” he said. I saw that he was trembling. “Please end it.”

  Tears streamed down my cheek. I pulled my gun from the back of my jeans and aimed it at him.

  “It wasn’t supposed to end like this,” I said, my voice weak. My hands shook as tears rolled down my cheeks. “How can I let you go?”

  “You must. Live, Layla. That’s what you can do for me.”

  “I can’t do it.”

  “Layla, I’m already dead. Don’t let me suffer like this.” Jamie closed his eyes. “I love you, Layla.”

  “I love you too,” I whispered, and then I pulled the trigger.

  CHAPTER 44: LAYLA

  WE DROVE QUICKLY ACROSS TOWN. The sun had already set by the time we got to the cemetery. We’d just passed the cemetery gates when we heard a massive boom and saw an explosion of orange light. Flames shot up from among the trees. As I drove the SUV toward the mausoleum, I watched in horror as at least two dozen undead, most of whom were now on fire, filtered out of the open door of the tomb.

  “It was a trap,” Zoey said, aghast. “There were undead inside. Nice distraction for the humans so the vampires could have easily picked us off.”

  I nodded absently then grabbed my gun and headed across the cemetery toward the others. Will, Kellimore, Chase, and Tom were shooting and falling back toward their trucks as the undead advanced on them. Zoey and I quickly joined the fray. The heat coming off the undead bodies and the terrible stench of roasted flesh gagged me. But I felt nothing. I moved automatically. My mind was numb. I couldn’t, wouldn’t think about what had just happened.

  Jamie had come home.

  Jamie had saved me.

  And I’d killed him.

  I couldn’t let it in. There was no way I could survive the pain. It was too terrible. I choked the anguish that wanted to overwhelm me and took aim, shooting one undead creature after another. Soon, there was nothing left but heaps of bodies lying in the graveyard, smoldering down to charred husks.

  By chance, the vampires’ ruse had failed.

  Or maybe it was something more.

  Maybe it was fate.

  Maybe.

  But it hardly mattered.

  The undead still walked. Vampires still lived. And the kitsune still hated us.

  We might survive this night, but what next?

  I headed back to my SUV. Opening the trunk, I sat down and looked out at the night’s sky. Save the glow coming from the dying flames on the corpses, it was dark. I stared at the curves of the mountains, black silhouettes against the night’s sky. A canvas of twinkling stars hung overhead.

  Some time passed before I heard someone approach.

  It was Kellimore.

  He sat down beside me and handed me something.

  I looked down to find half a bottle of vodka. I twisted the cap off and took a massive swig and then another.

  I handed the bottle to Kellimore but then paused. “Are you even old enough to drink?”

  “Close enough,” he said then took the bottle, taking a draught.

  He handed the bottle back to me.

  I closed my eyes. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I took another drink, then another, then another. We sat there for the longest time. I didn’t want to feel anything anymore. I didn’t want to remember any of this.

  “Come on,” Kellimore said, taking my hand. “We’re going to go back to Tom’s house to wait out the night. Zoey told us what happened. Layla, I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah. Thanks,” I said absently then slid out of the SUV. I swooned, leaning hard on Kellimore.

  “Maybe I should take this,” Kellimore said, reaching out for my shashka.

  “My scabbard,” I mumbled, fumbling to unhook my belt. I shook my head and took another drink.

  “I can get it, if that’s okay,” he said carefully.

  I nodded.

  Kellimore moved delicately as he unhooked the buckle on my belt. Feeling him so close to me, all I wanted to do was fall against him and weep. How good he’d felt that day at Witch Wood. How safe I’d felt in his arms. How freaking messed up it was that I felt like that, in the midst of all this misery. I was ashamed that my mind could toy with such ideas after what had just happened.

  Kellimore slid my shashka into the scabbard then closed the trunk. Taking me carefully by the arm, he helped me into the Range Rov
er. He went and spoke to the others then returned once more.

  We drove away from the cemetery. Wordlessly, I watched out the window as we drove through town. We passed the library, the old diner where I’d lived with my mother in the upstairs apartment, Ian’s shop, all the sights and scenes of home illuminated only by the moonlight. I felt so hollow. Everything felt so hollow. I drank the vodka, holding the sharp liquid in my mouth, savoring the burning sensation as it trickled down my throat. I closed my eyes and let the drink dull my senses. I didn’t want to feel.

  When I opened my eyes again, Kellimore was helping me out of the Range Rover and guiding me toward Tom’s house. The others smiled sympathetically at me.

  “There is a spare room in the back,” Tom said. “You got her?”

  “Yeah,” Kellimore replied.

  “Will and I will be back in a bit,” Tom said. “We can’t leave Jamie there like that. We’ll be back soon.”

  “Zoey and I will keep watch,” Kellimore said.

  Kellimore led me to a back bedroom then sat me down on the bed. My whole world was spinning. Everything seemed far away. There was this odd feeling inside me, like misery and joy were on a swing set connected to my heart, both of them pumping hard. Kellimore leaned my shashka against the footboard. Then, moving carefully, he took the vodka bottle from my hands.

  “Hey, I was drinking that,” I complained. My head was swimming, and the words coming out of my mouth didn’t sound like my own.

  “I know,” Kellimore replied with a chuckle. “Put a dent in it. You’re holding your liquor for the moment. Better stop now before you end up with alcohol poisoning.”

  “I’m Russian. That’s not going to happen.”

  Kellimore smiled. “Then how about you stop before you do something stupid.”

  “Something stupid?” I asked with a laugh. “Like what?”

  Kellimore looked at me. In the dim moonlight, he smiled. “Who knows? Start hunting werewolves?”