Dawn of the Vie (Immortal Aliens Book 1)

by Laura Diamond

  Anna’s face turned crimson. She brushed her hair into her face and ducked behind Ben. I couldn’t decide if it was cute or flaky.

  Ben nodded at me. “All right, man. Sorry I doubted you.”

  “It’s okay. I hardly believe it myself,” I replied, half disappointed he’d given up so easily and half relieved, for his sake.

  Martin stood shoulder to shoulder with me, marking our solidarity. Dad had called it a unified front. It impressed people and won them over.

  “I think we’ve been blessed today,” Martin said. “Justin here is the fulfillment of the prophecy.”

  His eyes shifted to me, and while the others stared on with admiration, his expression smacked of opportunity.

  I wanted to grab the pamphlet from his hands and stuff it down his throat. Trusting in the NCAAR was a waste of time. They were Vie, and no Vie could be trusted. Believing in a crap philosophy was just as sludge-brained. But I couldn’t deny what happened. Alex’s trance had no effect on me.

  Maybe it did mean something.

  But one thing was for certain: I had to watch my back around Martin.

  his proves it, Justin. You’ve beaten the trance, now the toxin. It’s amazing—”

  Zack stared up at me from the floor while I paced the room, testing my strength. Amazing what one pint of blood did, let alone the second one Martin had just given me. I felt stronger than ever—almost as if Alex hadn’t bitten me. If we had access to blood all the time, we’d be… normal.

  “How’d you get the blood?” I tried again for a clear answer.

  Martin didn’t miss a beat. “I told you not to worry about it.”

  “I don’t know any other Anemie with access to these resources.” I gestured to the collection of water, clothes, shoes, fuel, and now blood housed on the shelves. “They don’t hand this stuff out during distributions.”

  Martin smiled but offered nothing.

  I stuffed my hands in my pockets and fingered the stake I’d impaled Alex with. Add a couple more pints to my veins and maybe I could take him on. “Doesn’t blood have to be kept refrigerated?”

  Martin stroked his jawline with a thumb. “Not this blood.”

  Zack chuckled.

  I shrugged. “All right, what are you guys keeping from me?”

  Martin smacked Zack’s arm, and he covered another laugh with a cough.

  I raised an eyebrow at them.

  Martin jerked his head toward the door. “Make sure no one’s out there, will you?”

  Zack scrambled to his feet and used a flashlight to scan the tunnel. In a moment, he returned and plopped on the mat. “All clear.”

  Martin motioned for me to come closer. “I can’t have people overhear.”

  I tipped my ear to his mouth, eager to hear what he finally agreed to share. “Okay, what’s the secret?”

  “The Vie don’t just drink human blood. Abarron’s scientists manufacture different… varieties and market them.”

  “Duh.” This wasn’t news. I’d seen the advertisements displayed throughout the city.

  “There’s a particular batch they give their human slaves when they’ve drunk too much out of them. It helps them recover faster. The Vie don’t have to wait as long before sucking on them again.”

  Hadn’t heard of that one. “Okay, but the bites are fatal.” I paused. “Well, they’re supposed to be,” I mumbled.

  “For Anemies, yeah, that’s what I thought too. But the slaves, they’re vaccinated against the toxin, so no worries for them.”

  “A toxin vaccine?” I asked.

  Zack nudged in over me, drowning out my question. “Unless they’re drained dry, right, Martin?”

  Martin nodded. “Yeah, and the vaccine isn’t on the open market. It’s for special occasions.”

  I grimaced. “Like what?”

  Martin straightened his spine. “Vie are kinky. Sometimes they want their slaves to get, you know, involved.”

  I had no response for that except, um gross.

  “Vie crave blood; they also like sex. Naturally, the two go together…”

  “Yeah, naturally, but why are you justifying it? Can we get back to the vaccine?”

  He put his hands up. “Whoa. No one’s justifying anything. You wanted to know, and I’m telling you. Consider it a favor.”

  I sucked in a slow breath. Vie bites weren’t one hundred percent lethal. It explained my recovery. It also stoked my hope that Sammie had survived. God, she’d looked so pale though. So still. I rubbed my stomach, sickened by the memory. Could a dose of the vaccine help after someone’s been bitten? Could Sammie really be alive?

  “Spew-worthy, right?” Zack commiserated.

  “How do you know about it?” I asked.

  “I’ve got connections,” Martin said.

  “Nothing’s for free.”

  The challenge hung out there, in the open, waiting to be picked up. If he really did know an Elite Vie, say, then maybe he could get me closer to Alex, and then Sammie.

  “You’re absolutely right. These secrets come at a price. The more you know, the more dangerous it is.”

  “For you?” I asked.

  “For you.” Martin jabbed a finger next to my collarbone.

  “Are you threatening me?”

  Zack weaseled himself between us. “Come on, guys, we’re all friends here, right? We helped you out, Justin. We trusted you. Can’t you trust us?”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “You gave me synthetic blood that no other Anemie has access to, and you expect me to just accept it?”

  “It’s not like I can suck it out.” Martin left the thought dangling.

  “I don’t have anything to give—”

  He stood. “Yes, you do.”

  Zack rose too, matching Martin. He eyed both of us warily. He owed his loyalty to Martin, so I had to consider them both adversaries. Two against one.

  I’d beaten worse odds. Now, with two fresh pints of blood in me… no problem.

  At my full height, Martin still towered over me. “What do you want?” I asked.

  “All I ask is that you stick around.”

  I blinked, twice, in the classic double-take sense. “That’s it? Why?”

  “Tell him, Zack.”

  “The prophecy says immortal Vie inherited the earth to rule with absolute power. Then one day a mortal will be born among them with the power to break the curse, free all mortals, and bring the gift of death.” He paraphrased The Book of Vie.

  “That doesn’t mean anything.” I ran my hands through my hair. I didn’t have time for prophecy; I needed reality.

  Zack’s face fell. “How can you say that? The book says the Bringer of Death will be immune to the immortals’ power. Justin, the Vie couldn’t trance you. The toxin didn’t kill you. It has to be you.”

  “You said the toxin isn’t always fatal.”

  He waved a hand like he was erasing his words. “Forget that part, then.”

  “You can’t ignore that. If that part is a lie, what else in The Book of Vie is false?”

  “You want to find your sister, right?” Martin asked.

  Arguing with them was like pushing over a brick wall with one finger. In other words, impossible. I collapsed onto the nearby bench and put my head in my hands. “Yes.”

  “We’ll help you rescue her if you agree to stay with us. And you have to promise not to tell anyone about what I told you in here.” There it was. The deal. Sign my allegiance over to Martin. Fine. But I’d never be able to trust him.

  Then again, Martin had connections. If I believed what Zack said, Martin also went to the E. D. all the time. Maybe it could work. Maybe instead of trying to knock over the brick wall, I could climb on top of it, use it to get me closer to what I wanted.

  I lifted my head. “Why would you do that? Risk so much?”

  Zack rolled his eyes. “The book says you’re the Bringer of Death. I believe it, and I believe Martin, and so does everybody else. We need you.”

&nbs
p; I sighed. More like Martin wanted me around for his little evangelistic fantasy. His group would be all the more loyal to him if they thought he’d found the Bringer of Death. But was it wrong of me to accept the help, especially since they thought I was the answer to some half-baked prophecy?

  Truthfully, I wouldn’t have gotten this far without them. Let’s see if they’re willing to go all the way. “I think Sammie is in Abarron’s lab. Alex mentioned bringing her there. I need to get inside.”

  Zack gasped. “Abarron’s lab? That makes no sense.”

  “We’ll figure out a way.” Martin extended a hand easy peasy, like trespassing into the alien leader’s building to find Sammie was as simple as walking into a café and ordering a bottle of Crimson Crush.

  Zack’s gaze volleyed between Martin and me. Clearly, he didn’t know all of Martin’s secrets.

  I hesitated, teetering on the need to rescue Sammie and the repulsion of making a deal with a thief and deceiver. A deceiver who had, at least partially, saved my life. Finally, I shook Martin’s hand.

  Only getting to Sammie mattered, and I’d do everything and anything I could to succeed.

  Year 75, Month 5, Day 21, morning

  We left the underground hideout well after daybreak, emerging from the subway entrance like explorers exiting their tents ready to face another day of discovery and danger. Nothing outside changed during my time in the tunnel. Slaves rushed around on their assignments. Construction on the dome continued. Every day the UV-resistant panels stretched higher above us, closing us in, separating us from the world, erasing our history.

  Martin led the way. Zack kept close to my left flank, his face all sharp angles like he escorted the most important person on the planet.

  I couldn’t suppress a smirk.

  “What’s so funny?” Zack elbowed me.

  “Nothing.”

  I pulled the baseball cap down to mask my face. The shirt and jeans I had changed into were too big, but I needed clean—okay, less dirty—clothes and these happened to be the least stained out of a pile of moderately stained clothes that were relatively close to my size. Martin insisted. He made Zack change too. It took at least a half an hour to sate Zack’s questions about the burn scars covering my back like tree bark while we’d dressed.

  “Whatever.” Not paying attention, he nearly collided with a lamppost.

  “Careful, Zack. We don’t need to attract extra attention,” Anna hissed.

  She had insisted on joining us. For such a secretive guy, I had no idea why Martin had tolerated her presence, but he had. Maybe if she took part in our mission and got used to me in the meantime, she’d share with Ben and ease his mistrust. A way of keeping the group cohesive. Still it seemed foolish risking more peoples’ lives.

  “Why’d you let her come along?” I asked to see if I was right.

  Martin jutted his lower lip for a moment before answering. “Having you with the group is a big deal, whether you believe it or not. She wanted to come and see the Bringer of Death in action.”

  “I’m not the—”

  “Shh.”

  He shot a glance at me that could wither even the toughest guard. Then he snapped his fingers and made a halting motion to Zack. While Zack distracted Anna by commenting on an advertisement for an updated UV blocking cream, Martin grabbed my arm and rushed us ahead.

  “What if something goes wrong?” I asked.

  He dipped his head to whisper softly. “It’s worth the risk.”

  “You’re a fraud.”

  “For helping people? I don’t see you doing the same. You’re just concerned about yourself and your sister.”

  “If I’m so selfish, why are you helping me?”

  He dropped my arm. “I already explained that to you. Bringer.” A jerk of his head was all it took to bring Zack and Anna closer.

  I wondered whether or not he believed all this Bringer stuff. If he did, maybe he still wasn’t sure about me. And if he didn’t, was it okay for him to lie if it meant he was protecting other Anemies?

  We crossed Forty-Third Street and kept heading south. “I thought we were going to hit a laundry service before we entered the Elite District.”

  “We only shop at the finest places.” Martin grinned.

  “Ha! You’re going to love this, Justin,” said Zack.

  “It is exciting. I feel honored to be a part of this.” Anna stuffed her hands in her hoodie pockets.

  Breaking into a Vie facility did not sound like a fun adventure. “You should stay out of it. You could get hurt,” I said.

  “What? Because I’m a girl?”

  “No, that’s not even…”

  “Whatever.” She walked faster.

  Great. I’d pissed her off. “So where is the NCAAR? Couldn’t you have placed an order with them? Four slave uniforms, please, one in each size. We’d also like them ironed and folded.”

  Martin scowled at me. “Here we go. Ready?” He paused at the next intersection then jogged across the street.

  Zack hovered close behind him.

  Ready? Right. All I had to do was walk away. I could slip down a side alley without them knowing and find my own solution to rescuing Sammie. Because I was so extremely brilliant and talented that I should be able to develop a one hundred percent foolproof plan and carry it out with my shoelaces tied, hands stuffed in my pockets, ears plugged, and eyes blindfolded. Then the only person who could get hurt was me.

  Contrary to (un)popular belief, I was not a genius. Since I really was a sludge brain, other ideas—reasonable ones anyway—hadn’t popped into my head. Which meant I needed Martin. Again. Without his help, I’d never get into the laundry facility to steal the slave uniform that I needed to get inside the lab. No Martin, no uniform. No uniform, no lab. No lab, no Sammie. Circles, circles, circles, penning me in everywhere. We’d only met a couple of days ago and my livelihood already irreversibly circled back to Martin and his “connections.” And he—rightfully—expected something in return for it. He wagered I could impress his group and permanently solidify his role as leader by being the Bringer of Death. Whatever that meant. Now I had to prove it, with Zack and Anna present as witnesses.

  I’d have to solve that problem later. So then… moving on.

  If you wrote a top ten list of impossible feats—excluding killing Vie—breaking into a place during broad daylight would be near the top.

  We waited until the slaves emptied out of the side street, then we ducked into the alley that also served as the Commercial Laundry Service’s driveway. At least a dozen trucks, each one parked at its own loading dock, lined the rear of the building, polished surfaces refracting rainbows all over. I had to duck to avoid getting blinded.

  “Anna, stay here and keep watch.” Martin positioned her facing the street.

  “But I wanted to come with you guys.”

  Zack, the consoler, spouted, “We need a lookout. You’re the most important person in the whole mission.”

  She pouted. “I’m not a sludge brain.”

  I made direct eye contact. “No, you’re not. But you look the least conspicuous of all of us. Why don’t you beg for pellets or food? No one will get suspicious with you standing here, even this close to the Elite District. If Zack, Martin, or I loitered here, the Guard would be on us in seconds.”

  She sucked on a lock of hair, pondering. After a moment, she nodded. “All right. Get going.”

  Zack grinned. “Cool.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him.

  I couldn’t blame her. The kid was too damn giddy for his own good.

  The three of us sidled down the alley, hugging the wall.

  “Where is everybody?” I whispered, checking the windows for shadows and peering over my shoulder every three seconds as if it would make a difference.

  “The laundry service crew doesn’t show up until after noon. They do pick-ups in the morning,” Martin replied.

  “But the trucks are already here.”

  “Yeah, the
outgoing ones.” He sighed, then spoke really slowly. “Everybody’s out on pick-up duty. Trust me. No one’s here.”

  Lucky for him, he stopped short of spelling each word out. If he had, I’d be tempted to shove my fist down his throat one time for every letter.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Uh, I’ve been around for more than five minutes. Man, don’t you know anything?”

  “Sorry, keeping track of laundry service schedules didn’t really mesh with avoiding Vie.”

  “Or slaying them,” Zack added.

  I glared at him. “Which one goes to the Abarron Laboratory?”

  It’d be a direct way in, no need to worry about street guards.

  “Why would I know that?” Martin asked.

  “You know everything else,” I retorted.

  “Funny.”

  “We could hide in the truck that goes there.”

  “And then what? Yell surprise when they opened the door?”

  Zack giggled.

  “Fine. So how do we get inside? Got a lock-picking kit?” I asked.

  Martin clucked his tongue and fished something from his pocket. A keycard. “Ye of little faith.”

  “Where’d you get that?”

  Martin dropped the clear plastic card into the lock slot. “Oh, you mean this master key? Guess.”

  Beep. Beep. The lock disengaged with a click.

  “The NCAAR,” I said.

  “Very good. I think you’re getting smarter.” Martin tucked his card away.

  “No way. I call bullshit.”

  Zack hushed me. “Quiet.”

  “Get inside,” Martin opened the door.

  We entered the main floor work room. Though the overhead fluorescent lights were off, sunlight streamed in through the floor to ceiling windows lining the east side of the building making it bright enough. Rows of laundry carts filled with uniforms took up the central working area. Conveyor belts—filled to capacity with clothes, sheets, towels, and blankets—sorted whites off to the left and colors to the right. It looked like the building evacuated in the middle of chaos.

  The scent of detergent and soap irritated my nose so bad that I sneezed.

  “Shh.” Zack winced.

  “I thought the place was empty,” I shrugged, wiping my nose with the edge of my shirt.