Thirst No. 3: The Eternal Dawn

by Christopher Pike

  He turns the dial, I hear him turn it, the click of the numbers, eight in a row, eight steps down the ladder that leads to hell. But an instant before the pain starts, I think of Krishna and his deep blue eyes. It is said, in the hidden scriptures in India, that to focus on the eyes of the Lord is the highest spiritual practice a human being can perform. It’s supposed to be equal to the greatest act of charity, which Jesus describes in the Bible as sacrificing one’s life to save the life of another.

  The Vedas, the Bible, it’s true, they overlap a lot.

  Maybe gazing into Krishna’s eyes . . .

  Pain . . . Pain . . . Pain . . .

  Is equal to Christ’s sacrifice.

  I’m only suffering this pain to protect John. It doesn’t matter that he won’t see me. I still love him, I will always love him. And in this exquisitely agonizing moment, I realize he refused to see me because he wanted to force me to see him inside. Ah, that’s the key! This practice of visualizing that I’m staring into Krishna’s blue eyes, I’ve done it before.

  But this is the first time I see him staring back at me!

  The agony comes, and it does not get transformed into bliss.

  If anything it is worse than before. Except for one thing.

  The pain does not obliterate my sense of “I.”

  I’m still Sita, the last vampire.

  I manage to open my eyes and look at Haru.

  “You’re a cold bastard, you know that,” I whisper.

  He stares back, shocked. He reaches for the dial, then stops. He calls to one of his assistants. “You placed the wires on the wrong lobes. No one can defy me under such duress.”

  “She was breaking down a few minutes ago.”

  “She’s not breaking now!”

  “Her brain must be wired different from human beings’.”

  Haru stands. “I don’t have time to argue. Fix the problem and call me when you’re ready.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you do with your silly wires,” I call after Haru. “I gave you the answer to all your questions, and you didn’t hear it. No, you heard it, but you rejected it because it scares you. You already know what’s stronger than the Array and your Pulse, and it frightens you, because you’ve lost the capacity to care for another person. Your coldness has turned you into a coward. It’s made you lose your control over me. It’s done all these things because it’s the truth. Yes, you’re finally getting the truth that you’ve been begging for. Love and kindness are the answers. Without them you’ll always be afraid of the Array. And you’ll always be running from your own shadow.”

  Haru grabs a laser rifle from a guard and strides toward me. He pushes a button and a row of lights turns red on the side of the weapon. I assume that means it’s ready to fire. He puts the barrel to my head.

  “I don’t need pain to make you beg,” he says.

  I smile and prepare to say what I assume will be my last words.

  Then I hear a noise in the hallway. No, it’s on a level above us. It seems to be coming from the stairway. I hear a high vibration followed by a sizzling sound, as if meat were being cooked at an extremely high temperature. I pick up an odor that I immediately recognize as burned human flesh. Ironically, the smell is sweet, far from unpleasant.

  The vibration switches on and off, in quick succession, and I hear Telar screaming for help. I can hardly believe it. Someone is trying to rescue me.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Chaos reigns supreme. Haru shouts for his people to kill the intruder. A half dozen rush out the door, male and female, all armed with their strange rifles. Yet they’re no sooner past the threshold than a series of ruby beams slices the length of the hallway.

  The Telar are tightly bunched. The rapid laser fire proves devastating. Chests are scorched, amputated arms fly through the red-soaked air. A head is severed at the neck and tumbles to the floor and rolls into our room. It belongs to the technician who was helping Haru torture me.

  A female Telar with a ghastly abdominal wound staggers into Haru’s torture chamber. Blood gushes over her legs. A fried hip bone protrudes through her burned flesh. Haru catches her in his hands.

  “Who?” he demands in ancient Egyptian.

  “The Abomination,” she gasps in the same language.

  “Impossible!”

  “He’s alive. He’s coming.” The woman dies, and Haru drops her as if she were a sack of garbage. He turns to his three remaining guards. As a group, they continue to speak in the same lost tongue. “Can we seal this room and gas the entire hotel?” Haru asks.

  One of the guards checks a weird watch on his wrist, the kind Numbria and Claudious wore. “No,” he says. “He’s already neutralized our defenses.”

  “How is that possible, Dakor?” Haru asks.

  “He must have schematics of this structure. Our only way out is through the tunnel.”

  More screams erupt from the hallway as the laser fire increases and the floor outside begins to steam with boiled blood. Whoever is coming is faster and stronger than the Telar. Haru shakes his head at Dakor’s suggestion.

  “Stay here with your men and slow him down. I must return to the Source and warn them.”

  Dakor gestures to me with his laser rifle. “What about her?”

  Haru turns in the direction of the vault, ready to leave. He calls over his shoulder. “Use her as a shield if you have to, but don’t let her escape. She’s as dangerous as the Abomination.”

  “Bye,” I call to Haru.

  He turns and glares at me. “You will die,” he says in English.

  Then he is gone, and it is a relief.

  The guards lock the door. They’re scared, but not terrified the way a group of humans would be. Working quickly, they barricade the entrance with furniture.

  “The Abomination’s dead,” the second guard tells his buddies.

  “Asep must have been mistaken,” the third guard agrees.

  “He’s here,” Dakor says. “Besides us, there’s a dozen of our people stationed at this hotel. You hear them dying. Someone’s killing them. It has to be the Abomination.”

  “This suite is shielded with Neutra,” the second guard says. “There’s no way he can cut through the door.”

  “Not unless he has a disruptor,” the third guard says.

  Dakor is clearly in command. He acts annoyed. “He didn’t stroll into the Source and check out a disruptor. Anyway, the weapon’s still in the testing stage.”

  “Then we should be safe,” the third guard says.

  Dakor doesn’t answer. He looks at me. He has been studying me throughout my interrogation. He has a strong face; it’s blunt and worn, but I find him handsome. He has a thick mop of black hair. A wicked scar runs from his right ear to his jaw. One thing for sure, he’s been through a hell of a lot in his life.

  “Are you in league with the Abomination?” Dakor asks me in English.

  “Can’t say I ever met the guy.”

  “Can you help us stop him?”

  The question surprises me. He wants my help?

  “I’m not sure. Probably. I’m stronger than your people.”

  “Are you mad?” the second guard cries at Dakor. “She’s a vampire. Release her and she’ll tear us to pieces.”

  “We can’t disobey the Source,” the third guard says uneasily. “If Haru finds out, he’ll wire us to the Pulse. We’ll die in agony.”

  “Haru left us here to die without a thought,” Dakor snaps. “We owe him no allegiance.”

  “We just tortured her,” the second guard argues. “Why should she help us?”

  Dakor studies me. “It’s a reasonable question. How do we know you won’t turn on us?”

  “You don’t know. But since you seem certain the Abomination’s going to get in here and kill you all, you may as well release me. I’m your only chance of stopping him.”

  Dakor considers silently. Then he pulls out a set of keys. “Before I release you, you need to know not all of us approve of Haru’s a
pproach. Many of us were against taking you hostage.”

  “Are you a member of the Source?”

  “No. I was close to the Source. Until Haru had me demoted.”

  Outside, the cries stop, and the sudden silence is more intimidating than the fighting. Outside, someone walks the hallway alone. The others hear him. He appears to be collecting weapons.

  Dakor stands near me. “I’ll take out the wires and fiber optics before I undo your chains. It’s safer this way. But you must remain still.”

  “Dakor. Think what you are doing,” the second guard pleads.

  “I have,” Dakor says. He slips on sterile gloves and reaches for a tray of surgeon tools. He begins to tug on the implants in my skull. He works fast, but his touch is delicate. I feel pain, but it is mild.

  “Are you a doctor?” I ask.

  “I am many things.”

  Dakor is almost finished unhooking me from the Pulse when the top hinge on the door begins to sizzle and smoke. All of the guards begin to sweat, but it is the third guard who shows the most fear.

  “He has a disruptor,” the man gasps.

  “No,” Dakor says. “He’s gathered our lasers together and focused the beams on a single spot.”

  “The Neutra won’t melt,” the second guard says.

  “He’s not trying to melt it,” Dakor says. “He just has to soften it.”

  “We should flee, back through the tunnel,” the third guard says.

  Dakor shakes his head bitterly. “Do you think Haru’s left a shuttle for us? He’s sealed the tunnel behind him.”

  “You don’t know that for sure,” the second guard says.

  “Go check if you don’t believe me.” Dakor finishes working on my head. He kneels and pokes a key into a heavy lock that fastens the chains that bind my feet and legs.

  The second of three hinges on the door begins to sizzle. The four of us, almost frozen in place, watch with morbid curiosity. Two more minutes elapse. It’s hard to imagine an alloy that can withstand the heat of a dozen laser beams—lasers that can slice a human in half. But I know Dakor is right. The Abomination doesn’t have to melt the hinges. He just needs to weaken them enough to where he can . . .

  The second and third guard cry out.

  In a cloud of smoke and fire, the door explodes inward!

  The fumes are so thick, I can’t see through them. However, our foe has sharper eyes. A blast of ruby light darts from the cloud and strikes the second guard in the chest. His heart explodes and his sternum rips apart. The blast leaves a massive hole in his torso and fills the room with a steaming red mist.

  Kicking the chains from my feet, I struggle to stand. But my upper body is still tied to the chair, and Dakor has dropped the keys and reached for his laser. I can’t really blame him. In the red haze of bloody smoke, a dark figure emerges.

  “Put down your weapons and you will live,” a voice says.

  It’s no ordinary voice. I recognize it.

  “Matt?” I call, more confused than I have been in my entire life.

  “Stay still, all of you, no one else has to die,” Matt says quietly, taking another step into the room. He’s dressed in black, in an assault uniform, and looks pretty beat-up. He’s bleeding from a dozen wounds. The burned incision across his belly looks serious. I’m amazed he’s on his feet. Most of the hair on the right side of his head has been singed away.

  Yet these changes are superficial. It is as if he has thrown off a cloak and let his true nature shine. The power of his presence is immense. It feels like a tangible mass that shakes the foundation of the hotel. His face is hard, I could even say cruel, but it’s stamped with a confidence that only comes from a long, painful life. His every gesture conveys that he’s in control.

  “So you lie!” Dakor swears at me as he puts his laser to my head. “All this time you’ve been waiting for the Abomination to rescue you.”

  “I don’t know anything about your Abomination,” I snap. “I never heard of him until a few minutes ago. This man is a friend of mine named Matt.”

  “Lies. All lies,” he whispers in disgust.

  “She’s telling you the truth, Dakor,” Matt says. “She knows nothing about my past, and she knows little about the Telar. She only attacked you because you attacked her. It has all been a terrible misunderstanding. Why don’t you put down your weapons and we can talk.”

  “Even if she’s innocent, you most certainly are not,” Dakor replies. “I won’t surrender to you, and if you do shoot me, my hand will spasm and squeeze the trigger and blow her brains out.”

  It’s a dilemma. I realize I made a mistake when I revealed that we know each other, although it was an innocent mistake. I still can’t get over how blind I’ve been to who Matt really is. Actually, I still can’t say I know what he is. How was he able to kill so many Telar at once? Even I couldn’t have done that.

  “Our history is painful. I won’t pretend otherwise,” Matt says. “But it happened a long time ago. We can start over. I heard you talking to Sita and your partners about Haru. You know he took control of the Source by force, and he’s leading the Telar down a fool’s path. You can help me stop him.”

  Dakor shakes his head. “How can I help a monster like you?”

  “I’m not a monster.”

  “No? Who killed my father?”

  “Your father died trying to kill my father. He died in battle, bravely, but he knew what he was doing. He was not innocent.”

  “No Telar would ever join you in a fight against Haru. You have too much Telar blood on your hands, Keshava. It can never be washed off. Kill me if you must, but I’ll never join you.”

  My head spins as the revelations fly.

  Keshava is Yaksha’s son!

  He is supposed to be dead.

  Matt is a vampire-Telar hybrid.

  No wonder he’s so powerful!

  Wearily, Matt takes aim at his old friend, or enemy. “There must be a better way,” he says. I realize he’s not talking to Dakor, he’s talking to me. Dakor has the muzzle of his laser pressed to my temple. He’s forgotten that he loosened my legs, or else he doesn’t think it matters. If Yaksha taught his son anything about me, then Matt must know my feet are more deadly than my hands.

  I slowly turn my head and look up at Dakor.

  “I wish you would listen to him,” I say with feeling.

  His voice is empty of hope. “I wish you hadn’t lied to me.”

  Dakor is not waiting. He goes to pull the trigger.

  He doesn’t have my speed. I slam my head forward, onto my chest, so it’s no longer in the path of his laser. Simultaneously I lash out with my feet, kicking his left leg away from me while hooking his right knee and pulling it toward me. From head to toe he twists like a pretzel, but he still manages to fire. The shot goes wild. Now I have him, in the grip of my bone-crushing legs. But I pause—I don’t really want to hurt him.

  It doesn’t matter. Matt knows Dakor better.

  The situation must be hopeless. Matt shoots him in the chest.

  Hot, dark blood drenches me. Dakor falls, and a moment later the third guard joins him on the floor. Matt hurries to my side and picks the key ring from the slime. He unlocks the last of my chains. Soon I’m on my feet, but I sway like a slender tree on a windy day. He supports me with a strong arm, and for the first time in a long time I feel safe.

  “Keshava,” I say. “You really are Yaksha’s son.”

  “That’s why I came for you.”

  “I thought you were angry at me.”

  “I am mad at you, but right now we have to get out of here. More will come.”

  “Tell me Shanti reached Seymour. That they’re both safe.”

  He helps me to the door. The hallway is a veritable butcher’s block of blood, flesh, and fat. We have to walk over a mass of scorched entrails to reach the stairs. The sight seems to drain Matt. He’s no casual killer. He speaks in a tired voice.

  “They’re safe for now. But you opened a door
coming here. Now the Telar know I’m alive, and with you. They will hunt us until the day we die.” He pauses. “This is the last thing I wanted for Teri.”

  I answer with a sigh. “I know. I know.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  A helicopter waits for us in the hotel parking lot. It is not an ordinary helicopter. I have seen its like before, when Joel and I were fleeing the U.S. military over the Nevada desert. It is an Apache helicopter, one of the most deadly flying machines on earth. It comes equipped with duel Gatling guns and has a rocket launcher capable of firing shells large enough to blow up a tank, and missiles that can destroy a large house. As Matt helps me into the front seat—I’ll have to get used to his real name—I ask where he got the Apache.

  “On eBay.”

  “Seriously.”

  “You’d be surprised at the toys my dad collected.”

  It warms my heart to hear Yaksha referred to as Dad, but I’m still jealous of Umara. She got to have his child and I didn’t, because—except for a short time when I was human again—I’m barren, like all female vampires.

  Matt sits in the rear, the pilot’s seat, which is elevated slightly above the forward cockpit. Jammed around me are the weapon controls. I study them as we lift into the air and circle a mountain peak before we leave Arosa behind. He appears to be an experienced pilot. It’s midnight, but the moon is bright, and I catch Matt giving it a worried look.

  “Does Haru know we’re airborne?” I ask.

  “He will soon.”

  “What will he do?”

  “Try to have us shot down before we reach the airport.”

  “Is that our destination? Do you have a jet waiting?”

  “I have a very fast jet waiting, but our destination is flexible. It all depends on how fast the Source reacts.” He pauses. “I should never have let Haru escape.”

  “He fled using a secret tunnel.”

  “I know about the tunnel. I could have blocked it, but . . .” He doesn’t finish—he doesn’t have to. He had to make a choice between saving me or killing Haru, and he made his choice.

  “How long have they considered you dead?” I ask.

  “Shanti told us you read the book. Three hundred years.”