The Age of Embers (Book 5): The Age of Defiance

by Schow, Ryan

She was having nightmares.

  He leaned closer, sniffed her sweating skin, smelled the fear. If this was the girl who killed everyone in the house, he was not impressed.

  Upstairs, after an hour or more of going through most of the building, he found Maria, a man in bed beside her and a young girl on a couch beside them.

  He moved through the apartment extra slow, not sure what to expect of her or the other occupants. She slept like a regular person, but she was no regular person. Or was she? He moved to the bed, stood over her.

  Was he fooling himself?

  Maybe she was normal. Maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him. But then she opened her eyes, her breath coming fast. He was standing right beside her.

  He closed his eyes, quick, didn’t move a muscle.

  He heard her breathing change, heard her sniffing the air. She wouldn’t be able to see him because it was that black inside, and he wasn’t creating a shadow because he was just as black as the night.

  “I hear you,” she said quietly.

  He hadn’t moved a muscle, so he prayed she was bluffing. He wasn’t sweating either, so he knew he wasn’t giving off an offensive odor. Then again, you never really knew what you smelled like, but you could certainly smell others.

  Eyes closed, he listened to her shift in bed.

  He refused to move even as he heard her scooting closer to him. He cracked an eyelid, moved back just in time for a hand to swipe out and breeze by his face.

  He turned and looked toward the edge of the building. The wall had been torn away, leaving the apartment open to the elements. It was a long way down, but perhaps he could escape through the opening if needed, dangle over the top and swing down in to the next apartment’s balcony.

  Another swipe brushed by him so close he startled inside. Closing his eyes, he allowed his senses to heighten.

  That’s when he heard her laying back down, pulling the blankets over herself and falling asleep. Not moving a muscle, even though they were all so terribly stiff right then, he waited.

  When her breathing changed, he snuck back out, worked his way downstairs and out of the building. In the cool night air, he took a very deep breath, then released all the restless energy that had taken root inside his heart.

  Returning home, he walked inside and through the carnage the young woman left behind. He did not expect to find happiness with this scene, but the smile on his face told him otherwise. Not only would the sacrifice here appease the gods, it meant it would be safe to perform the ritual.

  In his bedroom he lit several candles, then moved the bed aside and picked up a small bag of salt, crushed chicken bones, several herbs and a pinch of chalk. In the center of the room, he sprinkled a large circle, making sure it bore no holes, and then he lit more candles, placing them around the salt line. He grabbed a snare drum he found some weeks back, then removed his clothes and put on special garments. Inside the circle he began chanting, confident in his abilities to contact the Loa, despite not having the safety of the hougan and the mambo, the priest and the priestess.

  Although Kalfu was named after the moon god, ruler of the night, he was of a different breed than the legend himself. The legend of Kalfu was known as the patron deity of sorcerers, specifically those who dealt in black magic.

  Despite being schooled in black magic by his aunt (who later went crazy and lost her life in a particularly dark ceremony), Kalfu the man, not Kalfu the legend, swore off black magic. The doctors later said it was a stroke that took his aunt. Everyone knew she’d angered the Loa.

  He didn’t want the same fate for himself.

  Still, the Kalfu name would forever mark him, for legends sometimes have a propensity to overshadow reality. Sometimes, they can even influence reality.

  Kalfu the legend used charms and trafficked in bad luck. He was all about destruction and all manner of injustices. It’s said that those possessed by Kalfu had exceptionally dark eyes and that they could cry black tears.

  When his aunt first forced him to drink the legend’s favorite drink—rum laced with gunpowder—Kalfu the child cried. He was only eight, not yet in his power. When she saw his tears were not black, her disappointment was so monumental she fell into a fit of curses, her eyes narrowed on him and leveled with so much hate. He hadn’t cried since that day. But if he ever cried again, he doubted his tears would be black.

  After testing the other side and feeling no spiritual resistance, Kalfu dragged Jaw-Long in to his room, lifting his dead body over the chalk and inside the circle.

  Back in Haiti, when his aunt first taught him to make the circle, she said, “This circle will keep the bad spirits you summon in, but if you want to release them to the world, all you need to do is break the seal.”

  Now, inside the sealed circle he sat pounding the snare drum and chanting. He wanted to attract the dark spirits, the Loa he never contacted without the hougan and the mambo. He had questions about the devil woman.

  He needed to know her.

  To see her.

  Pounding the drum, chanting, he let the questions hover unguarded in his mind, hoping the Loa would know his request and grant him the wisdom he required. Then, everything changed. Kalfu felt the spirit doors opening, almost like a hand dipping into water and the water parting for it, except there was no hand, only the parting of water.

  He took out his large knife and cut a long slice in Jaw-Long’s neck, blood boiling out of it. He traced some of the blood down his forehead, under his eyes, across his bare torso, and then he made his request verbally and to the Loa directly.

  The silence overcame him, to the point where his limbs became powerless, useless. He felt his mind travel elsewhere, not wholly, but in glimpses. That’s when he felt the woman, the very nature of her. He saw much bloodshed, an animal rage, and then…metal, like tentacles reaching down inside her brain. The octopus of antennae then turned on him, startling him.

  He was suddenly shoved out of the woman’s head and slammed back in his body with force. He toppled over, but did not break the circle’s seal.

  Although he was back in his body, he did not feel the same. There was a darkness that stuck to him. It was not her directly, rather it was the depleting, agitated feeling of her.

  Shivering, he stood up, left his room and the house and went to find shelter elsewhere, in someplace less haunted by the spirits.

  Chapter Twelve

  Maria and Carver woke to the rising sun. The first thing Carver saw on Maria’s bare back was the healing wound and the blossom of blood smeared all around it. He couldn’t believe he was back in bed with her again.

  What in God’s name did I do? Carver wondered.

  He told himself he wanted nothing more to do with Maria, especially when it came to sex. In looking back, he realized he was just so excited about the prospect of a new girl, and the idea that maybe Maria would pawn him off on her, that he gave in to her impulses one last time.

  No, he gave in to his impulses.

  When she opened her eyes, she rolled over and saw he was already awake. One was awake, too, but she was sitting by the opening in the building, looking out at the city, but not down. When she saw Maria was awake, she moved away from the window.

  “Let me see your hands,” she told the girl. One walked over. Maria sat up, topless, not concerned in the slightest about One being a child and her being naked.

  “Cover up your breasts,” Carver mumbled.

  “Worry about yourself,” she snapped. Then to One, with a softer voice, she said, “Come on now, let me see.”

  The child showed Maria the palms of her hands and all the fresh blisters she’d acquired during her sweeping marathon the day before. There were four really good ones by the look of it.

  “Hold still, this won’t hurt,” she said. One stood perfectly still.

  “What are you doing?” Carver asked.

  She pulled the girl’s palm to her mouth, used her two sharpest teeth to bite holes in the skin. She then sucked out the liquid and sp
it it on the floor.

  “You’re disgusting,” Carver groused, unable to help himself. His temper had been getting away from him far too often, but he was quickly losing the temperament needed to keep his mouth shut. Grabbing his boxers off the floor, he slid them under the covers, slipped them on and then said, “And with your boobs out no less.”

  She was already biting open the fourth blister when Carver got out of bed.

  “Instead of vampiring all that pus, you could have just poked it with one of the shards of glass over there,” he said, pointing to the mess on the floor where the side wall had been blown out.

  “That’s dirty,” Maria said. “My mouth is clean.”

  “Clean as a cat’s ass,” he said. “You realize how much bacteria the human mouth carries?”

  “It’s fine, Carver.” Then to One she said, “Feel better?”

  The girl nodded her head but didn’t smile.

  “Don’t get any dirt in the holes now. You need the skin underneath to crust over. After that, we’ll peel off the ruined layer and your hands will be as good as new.”

  “You gonna eat the blistered skin, too?” Carver asked.

  “What’s your problem?”

  “What’s on the agenda today?” he asked, changing topics.

  “We’re going back to where Aaron and I were attacked, and we’re going to take their things, maybe grab a few more strays. First I want you to meet Ruby. I think she’ll like you.”

  “Playing Cupid with me?” he asked.

  “Maybe playing Cupid with all of us,” she said with a less-than-pleased look. Then she said, “Don’t be so selfish.”

  “You realize this kind of Bohemian lifestyle does not fit with the times, right? I mean, we can barely feed ourselves and we’re unshowered in dirty clothes with unbrushed teeth and we’re acting like this is free love in the sixties. It’s not normal. In fact, it’s pretty unsettling.”

  “They say women need a reason to have sex, men only need a hole. Now you’ll have two holes and I’ll have a reason.”

  One’s face turned a deeper shade of red. She looked away when Maria got out of bed. She wasn’t wearing any clothes and didn’t act concerned about it.

  “Have some decency,” Carver said, her lack of decorum finally getting to him.

  “Your Christian obsession with covering the human body is downright stupid. You have this amazing biological system that is so fascinating, so visceral and so full of emotion, and all you try to do is hide it, deny it, contain it. What good is living if all you’re going to do is justify doing nothing with it? I want to have sex, and so should you. I want you to see me because it feels amazing being seen, I want—”

  “Stop!” he barked.

  She crossed the room in an instant, grabbed him by the face and lifted him slightly off his feet. Skin smooshed up, the flesh gathering around his eyes and his mouth firmly shut, he stared at her, unmoved by her tirade. If she wanted to kill him over a challenge, she could do so and he wouldn’t bat an eyelash.

  “I would’ve thought you’d learned the same lesson One learned,” she said. “You are older, wiser, more perceptive, yet you’ve learned nothing.”

  “Uh-kyu,” he said behind his smashed mouth and clamped jaw.

  She stopped, fell perfectly silent, like she was deciding his fate right then and there.

  “Do it,” he said.

  “Do what, Carver?” she asked.

  “Kill me.”

  She shoved him aside, causing him to stumble into the bed and nearly fall over. He managed to land on his feet, even though the force of her abuse made it tough to get and keep his balance.

  Pulling herself together, Maria said, “We’re going to introduce you to Ruby, who will earn her keep here, even if it means taking you off my hands from time to time.”

  “And after that?” he asked, brooding, rubbing his jaw.

  “After that we’re going to get food, water and men. And then I want to move some things a few floors up. Have you been up there? To the twelfth floor? Half of the rooms don’t even have a roof. It’s gorgeous at night, with the sky on full display above you.”

  When they made their way downstairs, Ruby was already talking with the guys. They were telling the new girl the ins and outs of Maria, something Maria didn’t feel all that comfortable with by the look of it. If anything, she wanted to control the conversation. Really shape her own legend.

  Aaron, Myron and Danny saw her and startled, their words clipped, all three of them falling silent.

  “I see you’ve met the rest of the crew,” Maria said, looking first at the guys, then at Ruby. “This little sweetheart here is One, and this brooding slab of bitch meat is Carver. Don’t let the sour face fool you, he’s become a hell of a lover.”

  Ruby’s face turned the reddish color of her hair, and the other guys looked down or away.

  Carver, however, turned and glared at Maria.

  “As long as you’re here,” she said to Ruby, “if you get any carnal instincts, everyone but Carver is off limits. Is that clear?”

  “You’re…you’re okay sharing?” she asked.

  “With you, yes.”

  “What if I’m not interested in men, per se?”

  “You’re into women?”

  “Not exclusively, but yes,” she said. “I prefer women.”

  “Are you saying…” Maria started to say.

  “She’s saying she’d rather share a bed with you than me,” Carver blurted out. “I would have thought for someone like you, as perceptive as you are, you’d have caught that.”

  “I’m not sharing any bed with anyone, no matter my preferences,” Ruby said, discussing the matter like it was just another normal everyday conversation. “But thank you for trying to decide such a personal thing for me after having met me only hours ago.”

  “Perhaps, when you’re ready, the three of us can acquaint ourselves then,” Maria said with the flippant wave of a hand.

  “So we get the three of us, and you get the three of you?” Danny said, his bald head looking less shiny than the night before.

  “Doesn’t seem fair, does it?” Maria teased.

  “Hardly.”

  “Let’s go,” she said. “Make sure you’re ready for anything.”

  “Where are we going?” Aaron asked. “And what if Ruby is interested in one of us at some point?”

  This was a man in his thirties, not too good looking, not ugly, decent build with black hair, dark blue eyes and features that were as normal as they were forgettable. Maria didn’t seem to mind the question.

  “Will you be?” Maria asked the stray with the tattoos, the torn nose and the bruises.

  “No,” Ruby said, giving the men a quick once over. “No offense.”

  If only Aaron knew that the she-Satan had made Carver her bed slave, he might not have been so quick to lament his situation. Then again, like Maria said, women need a reason to be with a man, but men just need a hole.

  Did Aaron need a hole?

  All men did.

  Shaking his head, Carver was now face-to-face with the absurdities not only of their previous life and society, but with the nature of testosterone and all the sour trappings of male biology.

  “How will we all fit in the truck?” Myron asked. He was dressed, his hair out of sorts, his eyes extra red against his pale, freckled skin.

  “Close quarters,” Maria said. “Ruby’s up front with me and One. No sense in packing her in tight with the fellas.”

  “Do we get a vote in this?” Myron asked, his two front teeth prominent in the morning light.

  “No,” both Maria and Ruby said at the same time.

  Everyone else laughed, but Myron hung his head in shame, aware that he was as appealing to most woman as say, the idea of slaughtering farm animals.

  “Oh, cheer up there buck teeth, there’s bound to be a blind woman in need of loving from a man not every other woman is pining for. The guys and I will tell her that, despite the built in
can openers protruding out of your mouth, you’re as handsome as the day is long.”

  Shaking his head, he said, “It never ends.”

  “Bad breeding is something you’ll carry with you to the end,” Maria said. “You’ll be fine. Let’s go, girls.”

  In the parking garage, One and Ruby climbed in the cab while the guys piled in the open bed. They headed to the house where Ruby killed everyone, passing a dog in the street. He was just trotting along, carrying his leash in his mouth like he was taking himself for a walk.

  Half the guys went in to the house and came right back out. Danny puked on the front lawn. Carver, however, ignored the crime scene and looked around, all but desensitized to the carnage.

  When he came back out, he said to Ruby, “Did one of the bedrooms have some sort of ritual ceremony performed in it when you were here last?”

  “No,” she said, heading inside. When she saw the man in the circle of what smelled like some sort of salt, she said, “I killed him in the other room. And I didn’t cut his throat. I lanced it with a broken rod.”

  “You did that to his eyes?” Carver asked, looking at her from an entirely different perspective. They were like broken eggs, the yokes of them gooped out and dried on his cheeks.

  “I was scared,” she admitted.

  “Remind me not to frighten you,” he mumbled, his dried lips finally splitting open. When her belly made a hard growl, she covered it with a hand to stifle the noise. “Are you alright, Ruby?”

  “Just hungry,” she said.

  “Tell me about it,” he replied, licking his lips and tasting blood. “How much food did these guys have before you left?”

  “Not sure,” she replied. “I left pretty quickly.”

  He gave a thoughtful nod, then said, “Don’t worry about all that sex talk with Maria. She’s finally able to be herself outside of the norms of society—”

  “Past norms,” Ruby interrupted.

  “Past norms of society,” he said, correcting himself. “Anyway, she’s really trying to come in to her own.”

  “She’s pretty hot,” Ruby said, smiling for the first time. It was disarming, her smile. “I mean for it being the apocalypse and all.”