* * *
When the bare stretch of dirt below known as Boulder City came into view in the small oval airplane window, Marcus looked on, surprised at just how visible the light from the city of Necropolis was. He’d only seen the city early in its prior construction, but not since its rise, fall, and—he smirked at the thought—resurrection. The bright yellow glow flickered here and there in the night horizon. Yellow? Flickering… Like a candle in the dark…
He unlatched his seatbelt and dashed between the two rows of seats filled with other vampires, many of whom he knew on a praenomen basis, toward the front of the plane. At a closer vantage point, even with the plane jolting here and there as its descent came closer, with his hands shielding out the light, Marcus was able to make out the immense flames dancing in the desert wind in the city that had been a symbol of sin in one form or another its entire existence.
He took the nasty little device Emperor Caesar had given him from the pocket of his black fatigues, dialed, and put it to his ear. His scarred reflection in the window transposed over the bright flames and for a moment he was reminded of the Great Fire, his body and face smoldering as he fought to escape from his home while a large portion of Rome burned to the ground. He let the image and the memories it conjured sink to the back of his mind, adding to the mass of others that sparked the fire that still roared within Marcus’s own heart. A black charred kind of hatred that consumed his every atom. The Emperor’s voice filled his ear.
“Yes?”
“Something’s not right, master. The city appears to have already been set aflame.”
There was a long painful silence on the other end of the phone. The only thing that could really pierce the solid outer wall of the hatred that made up Marcus’s whole being was fear. And there wasn’t much that struck fear like a sharpened spear through that brutal armor he was cloaked in; angering the Emperor was one of the few things that could do the trick. A man (or was he?) of such means as to have complete utter power over the vampire queen, Bellona, the goddess of war herself. She was everything to all of her children, the creator and the destroyer, and yet she submitted to this man with such vulnerable desperation, practically throwing herself at his mercy. It was pitiful yet frightening to behold.
“That’s most unfortunate, Amilius. Do take the matter into scrutiny. Inform me of your results. If there is a significant trail I want you to take your army with you and follow it to wherever it leads.”
“Yes, Lord Caesar.”
* * *
Darkness. But human limitations were no longer Hank’s to bear. He could see it all. The dripping water from a particularly large silvery stalactite as it hung from the ceiling of the cave. Lying on the rock in which he had been bitten, he reached for the spot where her fangs had sank in and sure enough, the wound was there. Whatever this dream was, it was certainly consistent. But she was gone now. Nowhere to be seen. Gone with the light that had been Hank’s savior for sure. Was he damned now? And what would that mean if he were. What was there to be damned to that could possibly be worse than the world he’d been born into?
He slid his hand along the grainy surface of a nearby rock, leaning crookedly against a larger one. The silence was heavy with anticipation. Something had changed. This place, Hank knew now somehow, was real. The things that happened in it, real too, though somehow not empirically connected to the reality that Hank knew to be truly physical. It was a sort of metaphoric reality made of solid matter.
The one who had bitten him had been the Queen. Her names were so many, they flooded his brain to the point of becoming indistinguishable. Even though she wasn’t physically there, her presence could be felt in this place. It permeated every drip of water, every slick rock, every grain of salt, every hanging stalactite that pierced down from above. Even the air was heavy with her invisible aura.
Hank stood finding himself as naked as he’d been before in this place. But he felt no shame still. No fear either. Simply detachment, yet some other connection with all that surrounded him. Like it was home. It was then that he knew. The hive. But not the hive. Some part of the hive hidden from all but him…and her. But why? Why would she show him such a sacred place and not show her children, her…lover? Ishan. Hank could see the connection between them like a physical thing, an umbilical cord sending nourishment or even a nerve sending pleasure, pain, and numb mercy as the time comes for each.
But even as strong as their connection was, he knew that if he so desired, he could break that connection. Bind himself to her and build a connection even stronger. All he would have to do is let the venom enter his veins, take its course, stop his beating heart, awaken the real bloodlust and become a true vampire himself. He could see it clear as a movie before him. This potential future stretching out for centuries, millennia.
But it was not anymore set than the others lined beside it like thin lenses stacked on their sides. There were thousands of them, but several were much closer to Hank by some means yet visibly equal in relative distance. He could reach forward and pull one from its place and peer inside. This was how he had seen Necropolis burning. As time moved closer to the probable event more and more of the strange lenses would disappear until only one remained. And then the pressure of inevitability weighed heavily. Hank had seen the lenses wear down to two when he sought out Ishan and told him what he knew; both ended in ashes. In one, the Empire burned the city to the ground at dawn and Hank and the human vampires of Necropolis who stayed behind to fight all died in hellish torment, in the other—well—it had already happened.
Hank stepped indifferently and unflinchingly through the rigid sharp and wet terrain with little effort. He knew she was close. Even with this new power he’d somehow been granted, he still needed answers. Knowing possible futures didn’t tell you the past, nor did it tell you the present and its ongoing mysteries. And still there was a fog over many things. Some things didn’t even provide possibilities. It was only darkness. But the Queen had answers. If not all of them she held many still and many that Hank needed to learn. This he knew too. Sure he knew some things of the present and the past he had no possible human right to know, but these were merely artifacts of what he saw in the future. Revelations still yet to come in chronological time.
And then there were the probabilities. They darted around his brain nearly as numerous as the synapses firing in his brain. He could see them tunnel to, from and through each other like branches from some infinite-looped forest of interconnected trees.
At the far end of the large cavernous space, Hank came to an opening that led into a narrow rocky tunnel. But like everywhere else in here the rock was made of salt. That was just another fact that let itself be known to him. The tunnel sloped downward at what should have been a dangerous incline for Hank, but he navigated it with an uncanny precision, seeming to know every handhold and foothold to grab and step upon as though he’d traveled this path thousands of times before. At the bottom of the tunnel he found another large cavernous space. This one was more elongated and narrow and across the many jagged stalagmites and stalactites pointed at each other like the sharp shiny crooked teeth of some cave beast eating its way through the ground, a large throne carved from the same crystal-like rock as everything else in this place stood seating the Queen in unseen magnificent glory. Her red irises shone in the darkness, watching Hank with patient curiosity. Painfully humbled, Hank looked to his feet and then got down on his knees.
“You may come forth, young one.”
Hank had never felt so much joy in all his life as he did at that moment. She was granting him passage. He would be in her true presence. Very few had ever been where he was now. Hank seemed to float forward unaware of his feet moving or any sensations below his soles. She spoke to him then inside his mind. You know now that this place is real albeit disconnected from the physical world of which you came from. It is the birthing place of my children, myself, and all of those who walk in darkness.
“But why—” The Queen put a so
litary finger to Hank’s lips and pressed it gently against them; gently but firmly. Her mouth stretched slightly into a rich lustful smile. She slowly slid her finger along Hank’s lips with deliberate sensuality, pulling his bottom lip down involuntarily and allowing saliva to moisten her finger and lubricate its passage as the sharp rigid tip of the curve-shaped claw at the end of her finger entered first into Hank’s mouth, followed by several more inches of the finger itself.
Hank willingly let the finger tenderly probe the inside of his mouth, the point of the claw only barely grazing the flesh inside his mouth and bringing forth a flood of pleasure he’d never known possible.
Inside these delicate vessels of flesh and bone are many answers to the questions that you seek. The answers we all seek. You simply must unlock them. And inside the closed partition of your flesh body lies the miracle responsible for it all. Now use this new voice to speak to me from within.
Instinctively, Hank reached out to her with his mind. He felt a connection bridge between them.
But why me? What’s so special about me?
It is curious. Although completely human, there is a power in your blood. A great power. Its origin, though certainly ancient, is a mystery to me. I’m as blind to its secrets as I am to the Emperor’s.
How do you know this?
Have you forgotten so quickly, young one?
The memory of her fangs piercing into Hank’s neck flashed into his mind only from the Queen’s perspective. In that quick glimpse, he could taste the unique property of his blood she had described. The mysterious element came through as though it were a potent seasoning sparingly introduced. But its power was heavy with potential. The vision dissipated just as Hank’s life began to play itself out within the Queen’s memory. And there was something else in that short moment of alien memory. A transfer of energy.
Ah, well, young one, I’m not the only one who received a taste of something powerful. When I transferred your blood to me some of mine was transferred in exchange. This is why you see things yet to come. We have blood bonded. And from here on, we will be linked. Whenever you wish to call upon me, I will hear you. And when I wish for you to hear me, it shall be. But for now, you have work to do, young one. Those who you travel with will need help. You will know what to do when the time is right. Sleep for now and when you awake, go and help.
Chapter 19
Southbound
Marcus Amilius stood across the street from what had once been the Stratosphere tower in Necropolis and Las Vegas before then. An explosion from some large source nearby had knocked the tower over and shattered its top into another burning building creating a visual effect akin to a monstrous still-burning torch laid across the city.
Kicking chunks of concrete debris out from under his shoe, Marcus studied the site, letting the scent of the air tell him more than it would ever tell any mortal man. He could smell the sweat of a man who had walked barefoot. He could still smell the man’s blood on bits of broken glass along the road.
He knelt down and picked up a piece of the glass and tasted the sticky dust-covered dried-up blood. Human—yes. He hadn’t been wrong. But odd, nonetheless. It wasn’t purely human somehow. It was different. Marcus decided he would keep this little bit of information to himself until he could be alone with his Queen. Then he would put the question to her wisdom to unfold. He turned then, walking away from the trampled tower. It was time to find out just where the rest of these cowards had gone.
* * *
Pushing the soil with ease, Jack dug his way out from the hole he’d buried himself into. His target had likely gained some ground on him thanks to the bloke in the leather, so he decided to head into the nearest town and look for some fresh game before continuing the real hunt. He retraced his steps back to the diner Toby and Cayne had eaten at. Mostly fat old truckers and middle-aged waitresses lined the place. Nothing enticing to Jack’s very particular palette. Between the new moon and the cloudy sky, darkness engulfed the rural countryside.
Jack had driven his little jalopy of a car to the place, but decided to run instead to try and work out some of the nervous energy he’d built up lying in that hole in the ground. He’d barely slept. The old wives tales about vampires falling into a deep sleep in the daylight hours weren’t as true as Jack would have liked. He often found that when he was uncomfortable it took some time to finally fall asleep, but he would never sleep in. He’d always wondered why his internal clock had been so consistent. It never had been when he was still human. Human? I’ve never truly been human, eh? Jack laughed to himself as the lights of a nearby town peeked over the tall hill he was running up.
* * *
Toby awoke to find Dustin asleep sitting upright in a chair by the door, Jonathan's crossbow lying across his lap. Thin streams of bright sunlight snuck in from around the four corners of the square piece of plywood nailed over the only window in the room. Toby eased himself down from the top bunk landing on the bottoms of his shoes with a hollow tap. Dustin's eyes fluttered at the sound and he looked up at Toby with an expression like a man staring into a spotlight right in front of his face.
Toby smiled as Dustin moaned in an exaggerated deep growl. "Why you gotta go and wake me up for?"
"Sorry. I didn't think it would be that loud. We probably have to leave soon anyway."
"Yeah, probably. Don't mean I wanna get up just yet, though." Dustin grinned mischievously and stretched as he got up from the chair. A knock at the door caught their attention and Jonathan peeked his head in at them.
"You guys wanna get cleaned up and get some breakfast before we head out? It's gonna be a long trip."
The shower rooms were crude, much like an older version of what Toby dealt with in the Imperial orphanage. But breakfast was far superior. Big fluffy waffles, bacon, sausage, toast and eggs. When they were done eating, Toby was afraid he wouldn't be able to get up from his seat. After the grand welcome the day before, Toby was surprised to find that there was no send off of any kind as the three of them got in Jonathan's truck to leave.
Conversation was light for the first hour or so of the trip. Toby watched the sun get higher and higher in the clear blue eastern horizon above the trees and tops of houses, barns, and bare fields as they drove along the highway. Traffic was also light in those early hours just late enough to be after the morning commute and early enough to be well before lunch. A few tractor trailers and the occasional minivan seemed to be as busy as it would get.
After that first hour went by, Dustin and Jonathan seemed to take to each other well, having long conversations about guns, music, and movies. Toby mostly listened, but added his opinion here and there on the subjects of music and movies where he felt comfortable doing so. Otherwise, he stared out the side window and let the two men talk.
It was late in the afternoon before they stopped to get gas. Dustin and Toby went inside to use the bathroom as Jonathan manned the pump. As soon as they walked into the gas station, Toby was reminded of just how surrounded by the enemy they were. The sound of Imperial praise music filled the intercom speakers. Years ago, the lyrics had barely meant anything at all to Toby. But ever since he'd been old enough to make sense of them and then after his father had been taken from him and Toby was put in that orphanage, the lyrics of those songs haunted him often.
This particular song was a new one he'd heard a lot in the past few weeks. The lyrics were typical really:
Lord I praise your name up to the sky,
If you asked me to, I would lay down my life and die,
For you, Lord Caesar,
All for you
Having believed his father dead in Necropolis at one point, the song struck a dissonant emotional chord in Toby. It gave him a fearful kind of chill yet lately, he'd often found the song stuck in his head. It was almost an anthem to him, an anthem built on irony and anger. As Dustin led the way down a narrow hallway past the register, Toby wondered what it was like for his father to meet face to face with such a purely evil and p
sychotic man as the Emperor. He wasn't sure why he'd never thought of it before, but the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth and a sharp pang of guilt for all the time he had been so difficult toward his father for what he thought was going on.
When they were done in the bathroom, Dustin looked around for a snack for a few minutes while Toby just stared out the window, wondering how much longer it would be before he could see his dad and hug him. Apologize—thank him. Talk with him for hours. He wanted so badly to just be in the man's presence. He felt safe with Dustin and Jonathan, but without his father there was a nagging fear building up inside. He wasn't used to worrying about adults, even though he'd had his share of doing so in the past year.
Dustin decided on a single serving bag of chips and a hot dog and the two made their way to check out. The man behind the counter was dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans and wore a long necklace made up of leather string and multi-colored beads of various shapes and sizes. He was staring at a television just out of view from Toby. Dustin stood waiting for a few minutes as the man, appearing to be mesmerized by what he was watching, seemed to ignore him. Dustin gave a loud prompting fake cough and the man reached forward and grabbed the items Dustin had laid out on the counter without looking at them and began to scan them.
"You believe this shit on TV, man? It's crazy enough the Emperor had vampires holed up somewhere, now he's got them stationed all over the place. They're not sayin' it on the news, but what the hell happened to this big attack against Necropolis? If you ask me, something went really wrong and we're all screwed."
Toby and Dustin shared glances at each other while the man talked.
A man standing by the donut stand nodded. “The cops also got the state lines blocked up. They ransacked my whole truck and patted me down and everything. I think you might be onta somethin’ there fella’.” He wore a greasy old blue baseball cap with a matching windbreaker, and blue jeans. A small tuft of gray hair stuck out from the loop in the back of his hat when he turned to rummage through the donuts some more. The man behind the counter just sighed in reply and then finally looked up at Dustin.
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