Torment (Soul Savers Book 6)

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Torment (Soul Savers Book 6) Page 30

by Cook, Kristie


  “I’d say you had more important reading to do.”

  She chuckled, the sound flat and hollow. “Did I? If I’d read your books instead of medical textbooks, I might have saved more lives than I ever will as a surgeon. I could’ve tried to keep everyone here. But the entire campus cleared out the day after the monsters attacked, running for families and home. They would have survived here. They most likely didn’t out there.” Her voice had become watery, and she paused to suck in a ragged breath. “Do you know the last we heard anything, a quarter of the world’s population had been killed? They estimated another quarter had been infected and turned into those monsters. And look out there.” She waved at the city before us, where cars should have been clogging the roads and people crowding the sidewalks—live people, not corpses. “Anyone left is in those camps or have gone underground, except for the few here or in the gangs. One-fourth of humans dead. Gone. Wiped out. Just like it says in the Bible. I can’t wrap my mind around that many people. And pretty much everyone I know is included in that. My sister’s the only family I know who’s still alive. The rest probably died trying to get out of here.”

  “We have people out there who could have helped them,” Tristan said.

  “Did you ever see any good creatures?” I asked. “Supernaturals like us, trying to help?”

  She stuffed her hands into her pockets. “I did at first. That’s how I knew my sister was right about everything she believed. But the humans went after them, especially the gangs. They killed some, but I think the rest just bolted.”

  My heart shriveled at the thought of some of my people dying out there in the streets before me. Murdered when they’d only been trying to save lives and souls. And where were the rest? Had any escaped? Did any work covertly, still trying to help, or had they all given up?

  “It’s not safe out there, Alexis,” Carlie said as she turned for the steps. “No matter what special things you can do. It’s not safe anywhere. Some people here think help is coming, but it’s not. There’s nobody left to help us. We stayed to find survivors and give them a safe place, but there are none of those left. Now we stay because there’s nowhere to go. We have enough food to last us another week or so, and then what? We become one of them?” She blew out a heavy breath. “Supernatural or human, they’re all monsters out there.”

  She descended the stairs, disappearing from sight. I turned back to the view before us. Besides the destruction and weird emptiness, which were bad enough in themselves, the sight was marred by strange symbols everywhere. Burnt into grass. Spray-painted on buildings and streets. Smeared in blood. Ugly lines that I couldn’t interpret, but nevertheless made the hairs on my arms stand up.

  “Signs of the devil,” Tristan said. “Symbols calling out to Satan.”

  And they were everywhere.

  Lucas and his Daemoni owned this city. And who knew where else? How long had they been infiltrating, worming their ways in like the snakes they were? How far did they plan to go still? The Satanic symbols sent my body into a full shudder.

  My legs nearly gave out by the weight of it all. The death and destruction. The loss of lives, of hope, of humanity. The promise of a future filled with only evil. The reality that Dorian could be headed straight into it, and that the baby in my womb would never know differently.

  I collapsed to my knees and buried my head in my hands.

  I’d completely and utterly failed. I hadn’t protected the humans, and now their souls were already lost or would be soon to the evil still coming, for Lucas wasn’t done yet, I knew. Anything left of humanity was barely worth fighting for. The Amadis showed no signs of existence anymore. They’d probably given up on us ever accomplishing our mission. And I couldn’t blame them. I’d failed them, too. Solomon had been killed, and Sheree lingered in death’s grip. How many more loved ones would I lose?

  Tristan crouched beside me and wrapped his arms around me.

  “We’ve lost, Tristan,” I cried. “I’ve failed everyone, and we’ve lost. There’s no hope of us winning. There’s no us to win. It’s …” I blew out a harsh, tearful breath, and whispered with a soul-crushing sense of hopelessness, “It’s all over.”

  Chapter 25

  “As long as you and I are alive to fight, it’s not over,” Tristan said. “Remember what we promised each other? We fight together, hand in hand ... ? The ultimate warrior and fierce protector …”

  “Nobody can beat us. Yeah, I remember. That’s back when I was stupid enough to believe that good always wins. That the Amadis were all-powerful. But we don’t have the power, Tristan.”

  “No, we don’t,” he admitted. “But we have everything to fight for.”

  I shook my head. “How can you say that? What’s still left that’s worth fighting for?”

  “This.” He took my hands and pulled me to my feet, and then he walked me around the steps in the center of the tower, to the far side that looked out over campus instead of the city. “This is how I can say that. This is what’s worth fighting for.”

  Down below, a couple dozen people were busy at work. Some chopped wood while others hauled armfuls of it off to the buildings. A small handful of college-aged guys had gathered around some kind of mechanical contraption, studying it, and tinkering. I didn’t know what the object was, but the vague clips of thoughts I managed to grab told me that whatever it had been before, they wanted to turn it into a water purifier now. A few hunters with compound bows or swords on their backs jogged into the quad carrying pillowcases stuffed full of something bulky. One reached in his bag, pulled out a package of Twinkies and tossed it at Heather who sat with Teal, Teah, and some other Norman girls about their ages. They ripped the bag open and divided the two snacks to share among them. Dorian still sat under the tree while Sasha and a couple of little kids ran circles around him and threw dead leaves in the air. Their laughter carried up to us.

  Tristan stood behind me as I watched and slid his arms around me. He leaned down and murmured in my ear, “You were so focused on the devastation out there, you missed the beautiful part of the view.”

  I knew what he meant, but I could only sigh. “Except they won’t be around much longer. You heard Carlie—they don’t have enough food to last forever. They won’t survive.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “If we give up and roll over. If we don’t fight for them, they have little chance of survival. But if we do, we increase their odds greatly. If we can free the Norman soldiers from the Daemoni’s control, they’ll fight for the right side. They’ll protect their fellow humans instead of locking them up to be served for dinner. These people will have hope, Alexis. But only if we do our part. Only if we don’t give up. They need us.”

  I leaned back against him, trying to soak up his positive energy by osmosis.

  “The Amadis need you, too,” said a female voice from the top of the stairs behind us. “Sorry, but I’d been sitting on the roof over there and couldn’t help but overhear.”

  Alys came over and stood next to us, gazing down at the scene below.

  “I’m afraid the Amadis have given up on us,” I said dejectedly. “We’ve had no way of communicating with anyone. No way of telling my council we’re still alive. Half of them didn’t believe in me anyway, and they were right not to. I’ve failed them. And now they’re just trying to do their best to survive.”

  Alys turned toward me and tilted her head. “You’re wrong, Alexis. They’re still out there, fighting the Daemoni and protecting the Normans. They’re still doing all they can to convert the newly turned. I hadn’t come across any for several days before today, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t out there—that we aren’t out there. We’re scattered around the world, making it hard to be detected even by each other, but that was the point of your orders, right? They’re still expecting you to succeed at whatever it is you need to do and to give them new directives. In the meantime, they’re fighting like they’re supposed to. Don’t give up on them. I promise they haven’t
given up on you.”

  My brows pushed together, and I scowled as I considered this news. “When was the last time you saw the Amadis actually fighting?”

  “About a week ago, in the mountains. Right before I found Lesley. I went back to find those guys, thinking they could help me with her, but they’d moved on. Staying under the radar, just like we’d been told to do. If they knew you were pregnant, Alexis, you’d probably see them everywhere, showing their commitment to you and each other. So please, please don’t give up.”

  I gazed down at the scene below as I let this sink in and imagined it being replayed all over the country, all over the world. Were there other pockets of Normans like this, simply trying to survive and help others and not trying to kill each other? Were my Amadis truly still out there, following my orders? Or, at least, serving their purpose of protecting souls? Of course they are.

  I wished we’d developed some old-school way for the Amadis to stay in communication with each other, such as using messengers. Of course, when we’d given the orders, we hadn’t expected the world to fall apart at the seams as it had. And perhaps such a scheme to keep us in contact would have only made things worse by jeopardizing the messengers if they’d ever been caught by the Daemoni. So relying on accidental run-ins, such as Alys with the others and now with us, had become our only means of passing on news. And I appreciated the coincidence of her finding us while chasing Lesley, because her update was exactly what I needed to hear to be reminded of my own commitment.

  Nothing is coincidental. The words echoed in my mind, a quiet whisper no doubt from Mom or Rina or Cassandra. Perhaps a hint that Alys was meant to deliver this news to keep me going.

  “Well, then,” I said, trying to sound more chipper than I felt deep down, “we promised our people that this would all be worth it. We’d better give it our damnedest, since they’ve given theirs.”

  The three of us leapt off the tower straight to the ground, catching everyone’s attention, which was the point. At Tristan’s direction, Carlie gathered them into the auditorium inside the gray-stoned building, sending a few to round up those who were scattered across the grounds. Only patients in the hospital were left alone. Forty, maybe fifty people had come out of the woodwork and stood in the aisles and in front of the seats, nobody bothering to sit down.

  Physically, they’d obviously seen better days. Many faces were smudged with dirt, some scratched and bruised from flying debris. Bandages covered arms and hands, probably burnt from the bombings and resulting fires. Knit hats and baseball caps covered some heads, but everyone’s hair could use a good washing. So could their clothes, which could also use some mending, already showing lots of wear and tear. I couldn’t imagine everything these people had been through to make it this far and everything they’d still have to face.

  Yet, they looked up at us on the stage through eyes lit with hope.

  It was up to us to ensure they had the best chances of survival we could possibly provide. It was up to us to give them that hope for a future.

  Tristan had Carlie introduce me, but introductions proved to be unnecessary. As soon as she said my name, everyone began clapping and wolf whistling. I wanted to throw up. This felt worse than the coronation, because then I’d been too wrapped up in grief to care. At least Tristan kept hold of my hand and walked out on stage with me, standing by my side as I cleared my throat and began.

  “I’m, uh, pretty overwhelmed by all of this,” I admitted, trying to make my voice loud enough to be heard, but it was impossible over the lump in my throat that wicked all of the moisture from my mouth. Blossom waved her hands at me, and my voice suddenly amplified across the auditorium as though I spoke into a microphone.

  “You all are truly amazing,” I started again. A few people cheered when they could hear me this time. “You’ve really blown my mind. When I wrote those books, I honestly had no idea about all of this. I thought I wrote fantasy, nothing more than fiction. I’d just needed an escape from my own real life and had hoped my stories would provide an escape for others, too. I had no clue my tales would lead to this.”

  I paused to swallow, and the audience took the opportunity to clap and cheer.

  “You deserve the applause,” I said. “You’ve made it this far. By working together, hopefully you’ll get through this insanity and be able to restart the world.”

  “As long as you’re here, we can do anything,” someone in the back yelled.

  I sighed. “That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you tonight. The people I came with, we’re like the elite team of our kind. And we have a mission to accomplish. Some will be staying to protect you, but I and a few others will be leaving tomorrow afternoon. We’re hoping by accomplishing our mission, we can free the people in those camps, including the soldiers keeping them there. They’re not in their right minds, but our mission will return them to normal. When that happens, they’ll need you, but you’ll also need them. They can protect you and train you. We plan to give you all a fighting chance.”

  Excited chatter waved over the room. My sensitive ears caught whispers about family and friends being held like prisoners in the camps. Tristan lifted his hands to quiet them down.

  “I just have to ask you one thing,” I said. “There are others like us out there. They’ve had to remain covert because of the lies humans were told about us. Not all supernaturals are evil, though, as you can see before your eyes right now. Our people are waiting for us to accomplish our mission. When we do and when the time is right, we’ll be calling them out to fight more overtly. We’re going to need all the support and help we can get. We’ll train you. We’ll help you. We’ll protect you. And eventually, we may need you to help us fight the real monsters that are out there. I just ask that you give us a chance.”

  “We’re on your side, A.K.,” somebody yelled, and the audience burst into chants of “A.K.’s Angels! A.K’s Angels!”

  Even the hunters in attendance got caught up into the chant and shouts of support. James and his besties were noticeably absent, though, probably on guard outside. I wondered if they’d be a part of this now, or if they’d be standing by the door, arms crossed over their chests, smirking as they rolled their eyes. Then I decided I didn’t care. He’d either learn eventually or he never would, but one thing I knew for sure. Stupid people didn’t stand a chance against the Daemoni.

  We spent the rest of the evening by candlelight with Dorian in his room that shared a bathroom with ours. Since we hadn’t been able to sit down together and officially tell him until now, we delivered the news about the baby.

  “Yeah, I heard,” he said with a small smile. “That’s really awesome.”

  “I’m so glad you’re happy about it,” Tristan said.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, and Tristan and I exchanged a look. We’d been worried about Dorian’s reaction, hoping it wouldn’t send him into one of his broody mood swings. Or worse, shove him along the path to the Daemoni. “I’ve always wanted a baby sister. And I know you’ve wanted her for a long time.”

  I threw my arms around him. “You’re going to be an amazing big brother.”

  “I know.” He beamed.

  We talked for a while about what it would mean to have a baby, and Dorian promised he’d be the protective big brother and always look out for her. Unavoidably, our conversation turned darker as we discussed what it would be like to take care of a baby in this new world we lived in. Dorian’s mood darkened along with it until he fell out of the conversation completely.

  Trying to bring him back, we asked him to play cards with us, using a deck we’d found in one of the desk drawers, but he didn’t get into the game. Then we made up stories about the girls who’d lived in the room before, looking at their photos and other belongings pinned to bulletin boards or left out on the desks and dressers. Well, Tristan and I did. Dorian just sat there, petting Sasha and scowling at the zebra print comforter.

  “I know one thing for certain about them,” he finally sa
id after Tristan and I had spent an hour playing the game between the two of us. We both stopped looking at a pile of pictures by the candle flame and turned our attention to our son, glad to have him involved. His hazel eyes cut over to us, and he said flatly, “They and all their friends are dead.”

  Tristan and I stared at him in silence. What could we say to that? As much as I hoped he was wrong and most Normans still lived, I knew the chances were slim. Some had survived, yes. But not all. Any denial to Dorian’s statement was probably an outright lie.

  * * *

  Sleep eluded me, as usual, but not because of memories of Mom keeping me awake. Worries of what the next day and night would bring had my brain whirring in a hundred different directions. I was thankful when morning finally came, and we could sit down with my team at the dining table in the townhouse to make more solid plans.

  Once we’d gone over everything, Charlotte stood and braced her hands on the table, leaning toward Tristan, Owen, Vanessa, and me. Her gaze traveled over each of us, her lips pressed into a hard, thin line. Something weighed heavily on her mind.

  “What?” I demanded.

  Her words came out as an order. “You have to promise to be back before midnight.”

  “What’s at midnight?” I asked. After all, a deadline hadn’t been discussed before. Was there some kind of curfew we hadn’t known about? Who was even policing that, anyway?

  Char pierced me with her sapphire eyes, bringing all thoughts to a halt. “According to the Normans who’ve been keeping track, today is Halloween.”

  I immediately turned toward Tristan, my mouth opening, but he held up his hand and shook his head. For once, I didn’t ignore him. This wasn’t the time to be celebrating his birthday.

 

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