Darklight 7: Darkfall

by Forrest, Bella

  The pained screams got louder as we crept along. "One of the creatures is injured," Dorian whispered. "That's what the screams are from." My heart softened. The small creatures were terrified and so far harmless, even if one had come at me earlier.

  The trees groaned as we moved through them; the sound became more pronounced as they grew thicker. Close up, the bark on their sides seemed to move, creating a rumbling croaking that made my teeth chatter from the sheer unnaturalness. Whatever was going on in the Leftovers, it was against all laws of nature. It reminded me of my first mission into the Immortal Plane, where everything felt strange and wicked—except that this wild territory was in my own backyard.

  "A little to the left," Sike advised from behind me. "The scanner is working a bit better. The creature looks huge. It’s moving away from us at a fairly steady pace."

  "And yet we can't hear it," Dorian said, his voice wary. We fell into a hush until the trees in front of us roughly formed the shape of a corridor, as if welcoming us to walk through.

  I held up a hand, fearing a trap, and my team stopped and studied the strange, cavernous passageway.

  It wasn’t my imagination. The trees were moving before our eyes, and they were letting us through. Why? Were they reacting to our presence as humans and vampires, or did they do the same for all sizeable creatures? Were they leading us somewhere unsavory? I made a mental list of the questions popping up in my mind that I needed to tell Cam to put in a report later—Bryce had been gleeful about having a grunt to do all of our paperwork, and his nephew actually seemed to enjoy it.

  “Do we keep forging ahead through these trees?” I asked Bryce. “I think it’s worth it, but they might be acting like Venus flytraps, luring us in just to trap us.”

  Bryce eyed them. “Let’s keep going. They haven’t been moving that fast. We can escape through the treetops if we need to.” Dorian nodded at this recommendation. The vampires probably had no worries about speed when they were up against trees.

  Eventually, as we slowly trekked through the forest, climbing over logs, the trees gave way to an elevated ridge, and we broke into late evening sunlight. Here, the sediment was a mix of mortal soil and pinkish immortal rock. Rotten grasses bunched around the ground, yellowed and slimy. I grimaced for the moment as the smell of sulfur hit me. It reminded me of the water near the Hive and the waterways we’d used to travel to get to Itzarriol. I hoped our allies were doing well.

  The injured creature’s screams were getting closer. My boot hit something silver and glinting. I stooped to snatch up a dirty pocketknife, rusted shut.

  I pried it open. There was an inscription on the blade. For Joey. As Cam wrinkled his nose, I smelled it, then tested its edge against my thumbnail. Despite the rusty handle, the blade itself shone. “Someone’s sharpened it recently.”

  Bryce scowled. "But they didn’t bother themselves about the rust? Not to dash your hopes, Sloane, but the odds for this one aren’t looking great. Especially without a knife "

  The rust was strange, but it was the unsettling implications of a human missing their knife that stirred my blood. "I hope they're packing heat. Let’s move on."

  “The beast keeps moving away from us,” Sike reported.

  Dorian and I made it over the ridge, following the sounds of the screams. In a small clearing beyond the ridge, one of the blue rodents lay in the middle of the wild grass, scrabbling on an injured leg. A few other spiky rodents sniffed it, making quiet, worried noises, but scattered as we approached. Sike bent to examine it. My heart sank as he shook his head. I debated putting it out of its misery, but, to my shock, the creature squawked at Sike and began to drag itself into the underbrush, disappearing from sight.

  "We're close," Sike said, voice hushed in the gloom. "Or… it's close." He pointed past me, following a left-tilting gulley, and I followed the direction. The trees seemed denser around the area; it seemed they were moving toward us. The air felt heavier, with something more than humidity.

  I was about to give the signal to fan out into defensive position when Sike shook his head. “Wait—it’s moving—much faster than before. Maybe it caught our scent?”

  Bryce let out an uneasy grunt at the dwindling light above us. "Are you sure you want to charge into battle, Sloane? It'll be nightfall soon. And all of these creatures are much more suited to fighting us in the dark. We'd have to rely on Dorian and Sike’s senses." And although Sike was tough, he had come along as a researcher, not a warrior.

  I hesitated. Then, Dorian inhaled sharply, his eyes dilating with a flash of darkness. His voice came out as a growl. "Blood. I smell blood."

  “Let’s follow it,” I barked, and we booked it down the gulley, crashing into another clearing where a tumble of boulders sat next to a tiny, scum-filled pond. Red splashed garishly over the biggest boulder, dripping off its surface. It looked fresh, even in the low evening light—bright red, human blood. A discarded weapon, a weathered standard-issue Bureau pistol, lay in the grass. The gun barrel was snapped in half.

  "We need to move faster,” I said to my team. “This happened recently. If we don’t find them soon, we’ll give up and go back, but if we can catch up, we might get to them before they bleed out.” I got worried glances, but no disagreement.

  I kicked up the pace, following a bloody trail that went right into another patch of trees. Sike checked the scanner, directing us as the monster moved rapidly through the forest. We pushed along, driven by the proof of someone out there suffering.

  Through the trees, the trail grew fainter and fainter, appearing in splatters and then drops. I bit my lip as I tried to work out how much blood could be lost by a human body before the person died, and how close the nearest hospital was. We could call an emergency chopper, but I needed to phone it in as soon as we found the human survivor.

  "Wait," Sike whispered urgently. He wasn't looking at the scanner anymore. It was probably the creature’s aura. Dorian growled, his fangs peeking out from his mouth.

  "I feel its presence now," Dorian confirmed. It was all the validation I needed to push forward. If someone was hurt, this was our chance to help them. After dark, there would be no hope. "There are other auras too, but not as big."

  I rested my hand against my weapons belt. This might be more of a fight than we’d anticipated. “We’ll have to strategize.”

  "Lyra," Dorian said as I tried to push my way through a narrow passage of vines. I turned to see him and the rest of my crew looking at me grimly. Resignation was written all over their faces. But we were so close!

  Bryce bowed his head apologetically. "It's late. We can't fight off multiple creatures if it comes down to it, and with the way the scanners are acting, I'm not sure our night goggles can be trusted. The victim is probably dead by now. We don’t know what’s out there, and now’s not a good time to find out."

  I searched Dorian's face in the last remaining light. He nodded reluctantly. "Bryce is right. The creatures here will be more active at night," he explained. "I assume the mortal sun is unnatural to them."

  I faced my team, trying to figure out how I could get them to understand. Then Sike gasped and shook the scanner. "What? It's gone!"

  Cold water poured over my white-hot motivation. “What?”

  Sike growled in frustration, showing me a screen blank but for tiny blips that I guessed were ratlike creatures.

  “Could it be the scanner?” Dorian asked. “I still don’t hear anything.”

  Sike shook his head. “If it were malfunctioning, we wouldn’t see any of these blips. It’s only the large signature. It just… disappeared.”

  “But it was out there,” Dorian said, glaring out into the darkness. “We both felt it.”

  A cold weight settled in my stomach. There wouldn't be a rescue. Whatever this was, it went beyond our current understanding, and night would make our odds worse. I couldn't risk my team’s lives on a wild goose chase through this territory just because there was a chance of a human survivor. All afternoon
, we hadn't heard a single cry beside the small rodents.

  I heaved a sigh of disappointment but accepted the facts. "You’re right. It’s probably best not to continue."

  Dorian put his hand on my shoulder in sympathy. As we turned back, I tried to shirk the feeling of failing the unknown person. They’re probably already dead.

  A storm cloud of frustration seemed to consume me as we made our way back to the ghost town. I quelled the brewing emotions, trying to remind myself that it wasn't practical, but insidious thoughts wound their way into my brain as I stared around the dimming underbrush, searching for danger at every turn. What if it’s one of my parents out there?

  No, I couldn't go down that path. If the knife actually belonged to that survivor—and the rust made it doubtful—his name had been Joey. None of my parents’ possessions had been in the barricaded room. Perhaps the laptop had a name on it, and we could check when we got back. The intact room had suggested that there had been only one person still around.

  Worry filled me, the kind of worry that went beyond that of a soldier. I was a daughter, worried for my parents. I’d seen their quarters, and they weren't here. I had to remind myself of that. That person out there, if they were alive, probably wasn't my mom or dad. We would do our best to find them tomorrow, but... I had to keep myself mentally strong on this mission.

  The shadows fell longer and longer until darkness overtook us as we reached the destroyed barracks. The rodent creatures had vanished completely into the underbrush.

  Bryce and Cam barricaded the intact room once more to protect its evidence before we headed to the carrier plane to sleep for the night. They worked in silence; maybe Bryce couldn't find anything to criticize Cam over. I joined Dorian, keeping watch in an open doorway. Sike was already going over the data he’d collected today. He worked in a notebook by a solar-powered light clipped to his uniform jacket; we would translate his notes to digital format later. Dorian looked especially dashing in our slate gray uniforms, although he insisted on wearing our optional cloak at all times. I felt better without mine and planned to save it for hardier environments, but Dorian had worn one basically since the day I met him.

  I still had the laptop recovered from the barracks room tucked away in my pack. We needed to see if we could learn its secrets. I had a sinking feeling that the person who owned it wouldn't be coming back for it.

  Dorian's hand gently pressed against my back. It was all I needed for him to remind me that he was here, as my husband and partner, on this mission.

  The situation was as dire as we’d expected, but we had to deal with the reality that the meld had left behind. I only wished that we had come across more promising signs.

  Still, there was tomorrow. I focused on that.

  Chapter 4

  Roxy

  How I’d managed to find myself in this situation was beyond me at this point. My attention had been split these past few days, and that had landed me in this vinyl booth seat.

  "So, was your Valentine's Day as crappy as mine?" the guy across from me asked. His name was Luke, and he had brown hair that managed to seem scruffy despite how short it was. Behind my companion, a neon sign blared “open.” The restaurant was a chain location. After all, what was every woman's dream if not to be taken out for five-dollar mozzarella sticks and refillable sodas?

  "It was interesting," I replied vaguely, because I could tell Luke wanted to launch into his own monologue first. People in my workplace assumed I was brash all the time, but here, in this restaurant that smelled like fried food, I was just a young woman trying to blend into the crowd in plain clothes. The lack of a uniform practically made me itch. I could be myself at work, but I was in civilian territory here. I never knew how they would react to stories from my job, and to be honest, I didn’t really have many other kinds of stories.

  I had a zero-dating policy within the Bureau, but I met Luke because he worked for the delivery service that served the Bureau office in Chicago exclusively. I’d been surprised when he asked me out, and my mother had lobbied for me to accept. Funny how she used to berate me for choosing to be a soldier, yet happily took a job with the Bureau after losing her job as a secretary at the bank. The meld had caused a small economic depression all over the country, but I’d gotten her an office position easily enough.

  Begrudgingly, I’d caved to save myself a lecture. It was always easier to pick and choose battles with mother dearest. I can't say no to family, even when it comes to my own dating life.

  It was always easier not to date as a soldier. Supernatural work didn't mix with stable schedules, and the few guys I had gone out with before were never able to understand my dedication to an organization over them. As if date night should be prioritized over hunting redbills to keep our homes and families safe. Whatever.

  "Well, my Valentine's Day was terrible," Luke said, dragging out the last word for dramatic effect. He played with the straw in his soda as he launched into his tale. "I went on an awful blind date with this chick named Melissa. She brought along a friend for part of it, then talked about how she wanted to be engaged by twenty-five." Luke was twenty-seven, if I remembered correctly, but I couldn't care enough to think very hard about that.

  "Engaged, huh?" I asked, but my voice sounded flat even to me. Luke appeared not to notice. He was fully wrapped up in his sordid tale of woe.

  "She asked me to pick her next nail color. Can you believe that?"

  Putting on nail polish at any point in my life, besides my brief punk-rock stage, when I had taken a permanent marker to all my nails?

  “No, I can't," I said honestly, hoping the mozzarella sticks were coming soon. If I had to leave this "date" early, I at least wanted to get a snack out of it. Luke would probably be perfectly nice for somebody else, if a bit obnoxious, but he was clearly under the impression that I cared about this date. I had run a brush through my recently chopped, shoulder-length red waves, but that was more for the twins’ benefit as they tried to psych me up for this. I smiled to myself at the thought of them. Luke took that as a good sign and kept going.

  "And then she asked if I would ever consider going vegan. Me, go vegan? I'd rather die." He gestured wildly. I took stock of his physique. He worked out, at least. He was nothing compared to a certain vampire tank, but... Don't think like that, you have to move on. I pushed thoughts of dark hair and a deep laugh to the corners of my mind. I was technically here to learn more about this guy, so I needed to be polite. But… my focus had slipped more than usual since the incident on the mission.

  Luke wrapped up his tale and took a generous slurp of his soda. "So, anything bad about your Valentine's Day?" The question came out of his mouth like a robotic gesture of politeness.

  My eyebrow quirked upward with amusement. "Well, I spent it rescuing a Z-list vlogger and her boyfriend from monsters. All in all, an average day."

  "Monsters?" Luke let out a disbelieving scoff. "I mean, I know you work at the Bureau and it's all weird and stuff, but surely you don't mean actual monsters."

  Irritation flared inside me. "I would give you their video footage, but, whoops, I destroyed it. They'd been breaking into restricted areas around the Leftovers and releasing the footage. Arresting them was fun." I watched Luke’s face pale a shade, but the disbelief in his stare made me want to push the envelope. "First, I stabbed a giant turtle-alligator-thing in the neck. Then I had to wrestle this girl into handcuffs, and after that I got to throw them into a jail cell."

  A smile quirked onto his face. Give him a chance. Just, like... one more.

  I suspected Luke had asked me out on the goading of my mother. Her mail room work ethic seemed to be ferocious with gossip, but not with boundaries. Then again, a few other people in the mail room had mentioned the nice delivery guy and said I would get along with him. Had they said that because they saw me as brash and tone deaf in conversation, just like this guy? God, I hoped not.

  "Well, that sounds like a real story," Luke said as his wry grin grew.
I felt a pang of annoyance. So, he didn't believe me. I exhaled evenly while trying to calculate the exact amount of time that had passed since we put that appetizer order in. The man continued, as if he might actually be curious about my life. "They say you're a real firecracker at the Bureau. Is all your family like you?"

  I leaned back in the booth. A mention of family was enough to calm my irritation for the moment, since I could talk about my family all day. Even if I had a complicated relationship with my parents, I loved them and my siblings fiercely. Some of them were working with me now.

  "Definitely,” I said. “I'm the oldest, but the second oldest are twins, and they recently joined the Bureau too. They're fraternal, Jessie and Jordan, and between them they have way too much energy. I was excited for them to start at the Bureau—until I realized they were gonna be in my department. It makes sense, I guess—I just wasn't ready to see them in action this soon, and I definitely wasn’t expecting them to become Hellraisers." At Luke’s confused expression, I explained: "At the Chicago Bureau, that’s what the monster-hunting department is called. We get all the hotshots and troublemakers. It's a perfect nickname, and the twins fit right in. Honestly, it's been a bit of a problem for me, watching them fight."

  The twins hadn’t been with us on the Valentine’s Day mission. Hindley had wanted to put them on my team, but I’d flatly refused. I was thankful for that… since otherwise they would’ve witnessed my weird moment in battle and never let me live it down. I’d screamed at Kane, but everyone thought I’d been yelling at them while freezing like an amateur on the back of the beast. I hadn’t taken my kill.

  The waitress stopped by as I talked and dropped off our basket of mozzarella sticks. Before I could finish my sentence, Luke snagged four for himself and left me with two. I might as well have disappeared altogether.

  "Gotta get my protein gains," he bragged as I restrained myself from snatching my snacks out of his greasy hands, deciding not to mention the fact that the protein value of our appetizer left much to be desired. After all, Luke had no idea how important mozzarella sticks were to the continuation of this date. "Oh, you were saying something? Go on."