The Fugitives, A Dystopian Vampire Novel: Book Four: The Superiors Series

by Lena Hillbrand

  That didn’t stop him from standing in the doorway watching her pack, rubbing absently at the wrist that had given him that panicky, metallic ringing, the one that had gone soon after Cali had. It didn’t stop him from thinking about the warm weight of her hair when he’d sat on the bed running his fingers through it for hours as he read. His teeth throbbed with hunger for her, more than the simple hunger for her sap.

  It was an ache for more, to trace the veins in her throat down, across her clavicle and her warm chest, the small pink knots of her nipples, the scooped out area between her ribs, the way they framed her like two arms. Two arms that held her body contained, the falling away at her waist like the crook of elbows, then the rise of her hipbones, like forearms, and the drawing together at the pelvic bone like two cupped hands, presenting the tangle of ripened fruit like an offering to gods. He ached to kiss it all, to sit behind her and be the arms that contained her body, to lift the living weight of her hair and kiss the baby-fine hairs that glowed along the nape of her neck, catching the light and reflecting it back like gold.

  Draven drew himself away from the door to Cali’s hut, drew into himself this longing, this want that ached constantly in him even after the gnawing pain inside his head ceased. He returned to the house and brought Cali one of the backpacks, showed her how to use the tarp under her damp mat so more water wouldn’t soak into it. He left her with the backpack containing the mummy bags so she wouldn’t have to light the fires to warm herself, and he made sure she had the wooden knife before he departed.

  He didn’t leave the house again for several days, until his hunger mounted to a dangerous level, drew his mind from important things and made him reckless. He needed nourishment, especially as he’d begun to worry about the homeowner returning now that spring had arrived. When they moved on, he would need strength, and he couldn’t trust himself to count rations if he grew hungrier than his current state. He hadn’t eaten since he’d overdrawn Cali, almost two weeks before. While in the house, he’d found several indications that the owner would be back in spring, though he could not find a clue with an exact date. Soon, they would have to move on, so he began to make preparations.

  After drawing from a sapien in a neighboring backyard who had accepted Draven’s visits in the docile manner of especially brainless saps, he went in search of food for Cali. He wanted both to stock up on food before their departure and to keep her well fed. When he remembered her emaciated body upon their arrival in Moines, he was reminded of the sapiens in the basement, starving and rotting on their mats. But as long as she remained healthy, he would draw from her to make certain he wouldn’t lose control again. She could give him a few rations a day without it costing her much.

  He crossed two neighborhoods, using the fences to move, savoring only ordinary scents. He pilfered two cans of food from a sapien hut and a handful of freeze-dried food packets before he began his journey back. He didn’t dare stay out all night anymore.

  If Superiors saw him, they would report him, so he never took a direct route back. A car sat parked in the driveway of the house directly past the stone one he occupied, so he skirted to the other side of the street before crossing back and slipping into the shadow beside their house. He moved along the fence to the back, where no one could see him from the street or the neighboring backyards.

  He was scanning the neighborhood so intently that he nearly forgot to look up, nearly missed the man on the fence. When he sensed him, he froze. Thoughts of Cali careened through his mind. For a moment, he imagined Byron had found him. But the man’s stature was much different from Byron’s, smaller and straighter, as he sat perched atop the fence, legs crossed at the knees, hands resting in lap.

  “Well, hello there,” the man said. “We meet at last.” His voice was strange, not high like a woman’s, but not a man’s, either. Draven couldn’t make out his facial features—the lights in the neighborhood shone behind him and illuminated a silhouette only.

  “Are you an incubus?” Draven asked. The thought only came to him as he said it. The man was not a sapien, but it wasn’t exactly a man, either. It was something other. Draven’s only other encounter with an other was with an incubus.

  The man laughed, high and childlike. “An incubus? What a strange thought. I’ve never met one. Are you an incubus?”

  “No.”

  “Your file said you were suspected as one.”

  “What are you, then?”

  The man dropped from the fence before Draven, and he could see the face now, the small figure, the impeccable clothing and hair. “I’m a person, of course.”

  Not a man. A boy.

  “I’m Meyer Kidd. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said, extending a hand so white it seemed to glow against the darkness.

  “You’re here to kill me?”

  The boy laughed. “Kill you? No. I’ve been looking forward to making your acquaintance for some time now.”

  “That’s impossible. I only met your employee a month ago.”

  “Ah, but you’re quite famous,” Meyer said, smiling. “I’ve known about you for much longer.”

  “Are you an Enforcer?”

  “Good god, no. No, I’m just a fellow who knows plenty. I’ve been watching you for a while now.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I suppose I want to help you. I’ve your papers.” Meyer tossed a bundle at Draven’s feet. Draven paused, not sure if this was some sort of trap, if he’d bend to retrieve the papers and this child would knife him. He knelt, keeping his eyes on the boy, and stood with the papers in hand. His papers. His real, original papers, the cards rubbed slick near the edges, worn almost through to the silver and copper inner workings where his thumb settled most often. Not replacements.

  “Where did you get these?” he asked. Last he’d known, Sally’s family had them. A twinge of sadness tugged at him at the realization of what this meant.

  Meyer shrugged, his suit jacket moving up and down stiffly, as if he were a robot and not a person at all. “I have my ways. I know lots of people and lots of things. I can get anything I want, with very little effort, if you must know.”

  “Did Eva send you?”

  “Send me?” Meyer asked, laughing again. “No one sends me. I send others.”

  “Did you send Eva to me?” Draven asked, stalling for time. His mind frantically called out to Cali, hoping she was inside the big house, sleeping, and that she didn’t awaken and emerge to use the outhouse.

  “I didn’t send her,” Meyer said. “Ah, well. It all worked out splendidly, didn’t it?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Oh, nothing, I suppose. It’s all really nothing in the end, isn’t it? I mean to say, in the absence of death, what meaning is there in life?”

  “We can live. Perhaps help others.”

  “Yes. Yes, that’s quite the thing of it. I couldn’t agree more. So I am here to help you as you helped those sapiens of Eva’s.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Ah, but I’m sure you do,” Meyer said with a smile.

  “I’m afraid you must have the wrong man. It was nice to make your acquaintance. You seem a thoughtful man.”

  “A man? Is that what you think I am?”

  “Aren’t you? You said you were.”

  “No, I said I was a person. Let me tell you that I think you’re quite a fascinating fellow yourself. You’ve given me much opportunity for thought.”

  “As I said, you’ve the wrong man.”

  “Nonsense. You hold proof in your hands. Of course you’re the right man. Let me ask you this, Draven, what do you think of me so far?”

  Draven kept his face neutral, although he was a little startled when the boy used his name. But of course Eva would have revealed that, and he had Draven’s papers. Still, did the boy know of him before that? Had he tracked the papers after Eva told him about Draven or before?

  “I haven’t yet decided,”
he said after a pause.

  Meyer laughed. “I like that. You aren’t as daft as I’d been led to believe.”

  “Eva told you I was daft?”

  “Oh, lots of people. It seems to be a common description in your file.”

  “Yes, that.”

  “Yes,” Meyer said. “Where are you from, Draven? Your accent is quite familiar.”

  “Not unlike yours, I imagine.”

  “Muddier, I’d say.”

  “If you’re so well acquainted with my file, certainly you know where I’m from.”

  “It seems to have slipped my mind. Belarus by way of India or Pakistan, from your accent.”

  “I don’t know these places you speak of.”

  “Oh, right. You’re a Third, how could you?”

  “How can I help you?” Draven asked.

  “You let Eva’s saps escape. Isn’t that true?”

  “I don’t know what you speak of.”

  “Yes, you do. She told me. They told her.”

  “I see. Then she caught them.”

  “Some of them. It seems they were happy enough at the shelter. There were thirty-four of them, as you know. Twenty went back to the shelter and stood by the door until someone came to put them away.”

  “And the others?”

  Meyer counted off on his fingers, a gesture Draven had seen Eva use the first night they met. “Four died of exposure or previous ailments. Seven were picked up and taken to a clinic. Three didn’t make it far before Eva’s group found them and took them back to the shelter.”

  “The shelter. That’s what you call that place?”

  “It’s Eva’s term.”

  “And do you eat there?”

  “Me? Why would I eat there? I have as many saps as I can manage at my disposal wherever I go. That’s for charity.”

  “Charity? That’s what she calls it? Let me ask you, sir, have you ever been to this ‘shelter’?”

  Meyer smiled. “Not as such, no.”

  “And do you know that the humans inside are nearly starved to death, drained to within an inch of their lives, exposed to cold and filth with no way to counter the elements?”

  “I saw the ones at the clinic, as it happens, so I know enough. But I didn’t before. But really, that’s not my concern. I run my charities, and they run theirs. I’m more in the business of helping Superiors who have fallen between the cracks.”

  “I see. And you don’t care that your employees torture humans illegally? That doesn’t look good for your company when it comes out, does it?”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “No,” Draven said quickly. “I only meant, when the clinic leaks it.”

  “Oh, they don’t know where the saps came from. And I don’t condone this behavior. I’m just not one of your human rights fanatics. Are you?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so, but I couldn’t be sure. Can I ask you a question?”

  “I would love to stay and chat,” Draven said. “But I’m afraid I should be going in for the day.”

  “Daylight is hours away,” Meyer said with a dismissive wave. “Besides, I don’t really think you want to go back in that house.”

  “Why not?” Draven asked, glancing at the fence. All he wanted was to return to the safe normalcy of his stolen life, to the freedom of anonymity.

  “Well, because Byron’s inside, of course.”

  Cali.

  Draven almost said her name aloud, the word forced from his mouth by panic and anguish. But if Byron was inside, he already had Cali. There was no use committing suicide.

  “You work for Byron,” he said, his voice a croak.

  Meyer laughed. “Not at all. In fact, I work for anyone who works against Byron, although I myself do not. You see? That is my special interest in your situation.”

  “Can you help me?” He might as well beg. All he had to lose was already lost. This strange man-child offered a semblance of hope.

  “Do not despair,” Meyer said with a chuckle. “Your sap is safe.”

  “Where is she?” Draven demanded.

  “She’s safe. That’s all you need to know for now.”

  “Have you hurt her? Given her to Eva? What have you done to her?”

  “Nothing, I assure you,” Meyer said, holding up a hand. “And neither have you. You seem quite attached to her, despite your noticeable lack of interest in her. I’ve never seen someone quite so agitated over a sapien, especially one you don’t even feed from.”

  “What do you want from me?” Draven asked, his lips too stiff to form the words correctly.

  “Oh, I hadn’t really thought about it,” Meyer said. “I suppose I could think of something. I know you have no money. In fact, all you have is a stolen sap, and as of right now, you don’t even have her. So, just out of curiosity, what is your offer?”

  “Anything you want.”

  “Anything?”

  “If I could have her back, yes.”

  “You’d, say, die for her?”

  “I’d kill for her.”

  Meyer laughed. “Not the same thing at all. But very good. It seems she feels the same,” he said, opening his jacket. The shirt inside was torn, and a small circle of blood surrounded the tear. He lifted his white button-up shirt to expose a bandaged abdomen. “She is quite impulsive with her knife. Did you fashion that for her?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought so. Yes, very good. I’m quite impressed.”

  “Oh?”

  “I quite enjoy your antics. You are like a fly in the ear of Byron. Buzzing, buzzing, and never any peace.”

  “Can he hear us?”

  “Oh, I doubt it. I’m sure he’d be out here if he could. You see, he’s made the mistake of going inside the house, which, as you know, is nearly soundproof. Confidence elevates a man, but it can be his downfall as well, wouldn’t you say?”

  “So you know of my relationship with Byron, and you know of my record, and you have my sapien. What else do you want from me?” Desperation set in as Draven glanced at the house. He needed as much time for his escape as he could get. He didn’t want to think about how Byron had found him, how Meyer had. Perhaps one had led the other to him. It could have been Eva, or the smoke, or his use of the electronic devices, even though he hadn’t entered his ID. He only knew that they needed to flee, and every moment he wasted speaking with this boy brought him closer to Byron.

  “I was curious, I suppose,” Meyer said. “I wanted to meet the man who has driven Byron over the edge. I quite enjoyed watching him take the plunge. Anyhow, as entertaining as our little chat has been, I suppose I should let you get on with your dalliance. Let me just ask you one thing. Are you a sex pervert?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You know, do you get your rocks off with the girl? The sap.”

  “No,” Draven said, trying to hide his horror.

  “Never?”

  “Never.”

  “That’s too bad. I was hoping to drive Byron mad with that. And when I saw that she stayed in the house with you for the first few days …well. You can see how I’d hope that was the reason.”

  Hope? He’d hope that Draven was a sex pervert just so he could use it against Byron. Though Draven now knew Meyer had no great love for sapiens, that seemed excessively vindictive.

  “Oui, I can see how you would,” he said.

  “Well, then. I wonder how else you might help me in return for my help.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Draven said. “But I don’t have much in the way of payment. If you expect it, keep the papers, sell them. I can’t use them now, anyway.”

  “That’s very true,” Meyer said. “You’d lead the Enforcers right to you. But I couldn’t sell them for that very reason. I do have something else you want, however.”

  “What are you going to do with her?”

  “I don’t know. Let us see, shall we?”

  Draven hesitated only a moment. If Meyer wished to trap him,
Draven would be trapped. He had to see Cali, if she was alive, before he fell prey to whatever Meyer had in store. He followed the boy around the fence and into the neighbor’s front yard. Meyer put his finger over his lips and pointed to the car Draven had seen earlier. He then opened the door and gestured for Draven to enter. He did so. He would have gone anywhere that held that scent and the sound of an accompanying heartbeat.

  Meyer climbed in after him and closed the door. “Byron is in the front of the house,” he said. “He might hear us if we talk outside.”

  Draven had stopped paying attention to Meyer. He twisted around to look behind the back seat where Cali lay, her hands bound in front of her with thick plastic pull-cuffs. She lay curled with her head on the black backpack. A wide band of cloth covered her mouth.

  “Release her,” Draven said. “Whatever you’re going to do with her, you can do to me if you let her go.”

  “You are a strange fellow,” Meyer mused. “Very well. I will let her go if you answer me one question.”

  “I need to know she hasn’t been harmed. Unbind her.”

  “You may take the gag off. But if she screams, Byron might hear. I will put you both out of the car if he comes out.”

  “Yes, fine. Cali, do you understand? Do not scream, yes?”

  Cali nodded, and Draven reached over the seat, hooked his finger under the gag, and drew it from her mouth. Her eyes went wide and her heart beat hard, but her voice came out strong and even. “I told you I don’t scream.”

  Draven smiled. “Have you been harmed? Are you well?”

  “I’ve been better,” Cali said, gesturing with her bound hands.

  “Before I negotiate your release, I have to know you’re unharmed. Was anything done to you?”

  “Nothing besides this,” she said, gesturing again. “I tried to stab him but…he’s hard. The knife didn’t go in. I’m sorry.”

  “No, no, pet, do not be sorry,” he said, stroking her hair. “You did what you should have. I should never have left you. I’m sorry.” Draven brushed her hair off her face, caressing her cheek to check for marks at the same time.