The Eternity Cure

Part II

CAPTIVE

Chapter 5

There were no spotlights up on the Wall.

In New Covington, the Outer Wall was the city's shield, lifeline and best defense, and everyone knew it. The thirtyfoot monstrosity of steel, iron and concrete was always lit up at night, with spotlights sliding over the razed ground in front of it and guards marching back and forth up top. It circled the entire city, protecting New Covington from the mindless horrors that lurked just outside, the only barrier between the humans and the ever-Hungry rabids. It was the one thing that kept the Prince in power. This was his city; if you wanted to live behind his Wall, under his protection, you had to consent to his rules.

In my seventeen years of living in New Covington, the Wall had never once been abandoned.

"Something is wrong," I muttered as Jackal and I stood on the outskirts of the kill zone, the flat, barren strip of ground that surrounded the Wall. Pits, mines and coils of barbed wire covered that rocky field, making it deadly to venture into. Spotlights-blinding beams of light that were rumored to have ultraviolet bulbs in them to further discourage rabids from coming close-usually scanned the ground every fifty feet. They were dark now. Nothing moved out in the kill zone, not even leaves blowing across the barren landscape. "The Wall is never unmanned. Not even during lockdowns. They always keep the lights on and the guards patrolling, no matter what."

"Yeah?" Jackal scanned the Wall and kill zone skeptically. "Well, either the Prince is getting lazy, or Sarren is wreaking his personal brand of havoc inside. I'm guessing the latter, unless this Prince is a spineless tool." He glanced at me from where he was leaning against a tree trunk. "Who rules New Covington anyway? I forgot."

"Salazar," I muttered.

"Oh, yeah." Jackal snorted. "Little gypsy bastard, from what Kanin told me. One of the older bloodlines, prided himself on being 'royal,' for all the good it did him here." He pushed himself off the tree and raised an eyebrow. "Well, this was your city, once upon a time, sister. Should we walk up to the front gate and ring the doorbell, or did you have another way in?"

"We can't just walk across the kill zone." I backed away from the edge, heading into the ruins surrounding the Wall, the rows of dilapidated houses and crumbling streets. There were still mines and booby traps and other nasty things, even if the Wall wasn't being patrolled. But I knew this city. I'd been able to get in and out of it pretty consistently, back when I was human. The sewers below New Covington ran for miles, and weren't filled with rabids like the Old D.C. tunnels. "The sewers," I told Jackal. "We can get into the city by going beneath the Wall."

"The sewers, huh? Why does this not surprise me?" Jackal followed me up the bank, and we wove our way through the tall weeds and rusted hulks of cars at the edge of the kill zone, back into the ruins. "You couldn't have mentioned this on the way?"

I ignored him, both relieved and apprehensive to be back. It had taken us the better part of a month, walking from Old D.C. across the ravaged countryside, through plains and forest and countless dead towns, to reach the walls of my old home. In fact, it would've taken us even longer had we not stumbled upon a working vehicle one night. The "jeep," as Jackal called it, had cut down our travel time immensely, but I still feared we'd taken too long. I hadn't had any dreams to assure me that Kanin was still alive, though if I concentrated, I could still feel that faint tug, urging me on.

Back to New Covington. The place where it all began. Where I'd died and become a monster.

"So, you were born here, were you?" Jackal mused, gazing over the blasted field as we skirted the perimeter. "How positively nostalgic. How does it feel, coming back to this place as a vampire instead of a bloodcow?"

"Shut up, Jackal." I paused, glancing at a broken fountain in front of an apartment complex. The limbless cement lady in its center gazed sightlessly back, and I felt a twinge of familiarity, knowing exactly where I was. The last time I'd seen New Covington, Kanin and I had been trying to get past the ruins into the forest before Salazar's men blew us to pieces. "I thought I was done with this place," I muttered, continuing past the statue. "I never thought I'd come back."

"Aw," Jackal mocked. "No old friends to see, then? No places you're just dying to revisit?" His mouth twisted into a smirk as I glared at him. "I would think you'd have lots of people you'd want to contact, since you're so fond of these walking bloodbags. After all, you're practically one of them."

I stifled a growl, clenching my fists. "No," I rasped as memory surged up despite my attempts to block it out. My old gang: Lucas and Rat and Stick. The crumbling, dilapidated school we'd used as our hideout. That fateful night in the rain... "There's no one here," I continued, shoving those memories back into the dark corner they'd come from. "All my friends are dead."

"Oh, well. That's humans for you, always so disgustingly mortal." Jackal shrugged, and I wanted to punch his smirking mouth. All through our journey from Old D.C., he'd been an entertaining, if not pleasant, travel companion. I'd heard more stories, pointed questions and crude jokes than I'd ever wanted to know about, and I'd gotten used to his sharp, often cruel sense of humor. Once I'd realized his remarks were purposefully barbed to get a rise out of me, it was easier to ignore them. We did almost come to blows one night, when he'd wanted to "share" an older couple living in an isolated farmhouse, and I'd refused to let him attack them. We'd gone so far as to draw weapons on each other, when he'd rolled his eyes and stalked away into the night, returning later as if nothing had happened. The next evening, three men in a black jeep had pulled alongside us, pointed guns in our direction and told us to get in the vehicle.

It had not gone well for them, but we did end up with that nice jeep. And with our Hunger temporarily sated, the tension between Jackal and me had been defused a bit. Of course, I still wanted to kick him in his smart mouth sometimes.

But he'd never brought up New Covington or my years as a human until now.

"So very fragile, these bloodbags," he continued, shaking his head. "You blink and another one has up and died. Probably better in the long run, anyway. I'm sure you got the whole you must leave your past behind lecture from Kanin."

"Jackal, just..." I sighed. "Just drop it."

To my surprise, he did, not saying another word until we reached the drainage pipe that led into the sewers. It was an odd feeling, sliding through the pipe, emerging into the familiar darkness of the tunnels. The last time I'd done this, I'd been human.

"Ugh." Jackal grunted, straightening behind me, wringing dirty water from his sleeves. "Well, it's not the nastiest place I've ever crawled through, but it's definitely up there. At least they're not in use anymore. From what Kanin told me, all the human crap in the city used to flow through these kinds of tunnels." He grinned as I gave him a sideways look. "Disgusting thought, ain't it? Kind of makes you glad you're not human anymore."

Without replying, I started down the tunnels, tracing invisible steps back toward the city.

We walked in silence for a while, the only sounds our soft footsteps and the trickle of water flowing sluggishly by our feet. For once, I was glad that I was a vampire and didn't have to breathe.

"So." Jackal's low, quiet voice broke the stillness. "How did you meet Kanin? It was here, right? You never told me much about you and him. Why'd he do it?"

"Do what?"

"Turn you." Jackal's eyes glowed yellow in the darkness of the tunnel, practically burning the side of my face. "He swore that he would never create another spawn after me. You must've done something to catch his attention, to make him break his promise." Jackal smiled, showing the very tips of his fangs. "What made you so special, I wonder?"

"I was dying." My voice came out flat, echoing down the tunnel. "I got caught outside the Wall one night and was attacked by rabids. Kanin killed them all, but it was too late to save me." I shrugged, remembering the terror, the phantom pain of claws in my skin, ripping my body apart. "I guess he felt sorry for me."

"No." Jackal shook his head. "Kanin never Turned humans just because he pitied them. How many humans do you think we've watched die in horrible and painful ways? If he offered to make you immortal, he must have seen something in you that he liked, made him think you could make it as a vampire. He doesn't bestow his 'curse' on just anyone."

"I don't know, then," I snapped, because I didn't want to talk about it anymore. "What does it matter? I'm a vampire now. I can't go back and change his mind."

Jackal raised an eyebrow. "Would you want to?"

His question caught me off guard. I thought of my life as a vampire, an immortal. How long had it been since I'd seen the sun, let it warm my face? How long since I had done anything truly human? I realized I didn't remember what real food tasted like anymore. The Hunger had completely infused my memories so the only thing I ever craved was blood.

And the most ironic thing? If Kanin hadn't Turned me, I would never have met Zeke. But being a vampire meant I could never be with him, either.

"I don't know," I said evasively, and heard Jackal's disbelieving snort. Of course, it was easy for him-he reveled in his strength and immortality, caring nothing for those he slaughtered along the way. A few months ago, I'd been so certain, but now...if it came back to that night, lying in the rain as my life slowly drained away, and a vampire asked me, once more, what I wanted...would my choice be the same?

"What about you?" I challenged, to get him off the subject. "Why did Kanin Turn you? Certainly not for your charming personality." He snorted a laugh. "So how did you meet Kanin? You two don't seem like you'd get along very well."

"We didn't," Jackal said easily. "Especially at the end, right before we parted ways. I guess you can say I was his biggest disappointment as a vampire."

"Why?"

He smiled evilly. "Oh, no. You're not getting my story that easily, sister. You want me to open up?" He grinned wider and pressed close, making me uncomfortable. His voice dropped to a low murmur. "You're going to have to prove that I can trust you."

"You can trust me?" I pulled back to glare at him, feeling my fangs press against my gums. "You're joking, right? I'm not the egotistical murdering bastard. I don't toss unarmed humans into cages with rabids and let them rip them apart for sport! I'm not the one who put a stake in my gut and threw me out a window."

"You keep harping on that," Jackal said with exaggerated patience. "And yet, you are a vicious, murdering vampire, sister. It's in your blood. When are you going to realize that you and I are exactly the same?"

We're not, I wanted to snarl at him, but a noise in the tunnels ahead made me pause. Halting, I put up a hand and looked at Jackal, who had stopped, as well. He'd heard it, too.

We eased forward, quietly but not too concerned with what we might find. Rabids rarely came down here; the Prince had sealed off all entrances into the sewers except a few, for the sole purpose of keeping them out of the city. Occasionally, a rabid would wander down here, but never for long, and never in the huge swarms we'd seen in Old D.C.

As we rounded a corner, there was a shout, and a flashlight beam shone painfully into my eyes, making me hiss and look away. Raising my arm, I peered back to see three pale, skinny figures standing at the mouth of the tunnel, gaping at us.

I relaxed. Mole men, as they were called, had been nothing but urban legends to me when I was a Fringer, just creepy stories we told each other about the cannibals living under the streets, until I'd run into a group of them one night in the tunnels. They were not, as some stories claimed, giant hairless rat-people. They were just emaciated, but otherwise normal, humans whose skin had turned pale and diseased from a lifetime of living in dark sewers. However, the stories about mole men preying on and eating fellow humans weren't entirely false, either.

That seemed a lifetime ago. This time, I was the thing they feared, the monster.

"Who are you?" one of them, a skinny human with scabs crusting his arms and face, demanded. "More topsiders, coming down to crowd our turf?" He stepped forward and waved his flashlight menacingly. "Get out! Go back to your precious streets and stop trying to invade our space. This is our territory."

Jackal gave him an evil, indulgent smile. "Why don't you make us, little man?" he purred.

"Knock it off." I moved forward, blocking his view of the humans before he could kill them. "What do you mean?" I demanded, as the three mole men crowded together, glaring at us. "Are people from the Fringe coming down here? Why?"

"Vampire," whispered one of them, his eyes going wild and terrified, and the others cringed. They started edging away, back into the shadows. I swallowed a growl, stepped forward, and the scabby human hurled the flashlight at my face before they all scattered in different directions.

I ducked, the flashlight striking the wall behind me, and Jackal lunged forward with a roar. By the time I'd straightened and whirled around, he had already grabbed a skinny mole man, lifted him off his feet and thrown him into the wall. The human slumped to the ground, dazed, and Jackal heaved him up by the throat, slamming him into the cement.

"That wasn't very nice of you," he said, baring his fangs as the human clawed weakly at his arm. "My sister was only asking a simple question." His grip on the human's throat tightened, and the man gagged for air. "So how about you answer her, before I have to snap your skinny neck like a twig?"

I stalked up to him. "Oh, that's a good idea, choke him into unconsciousness-we're sure to get answers that way."

He ignored me, though his fingers loosened a bit, and the human gasped painfully. "Start talking, bloodbag," the raider king said. "Why are topsiders coming down here? I'm guessing it's not because of your hospitality."

"I don't know," the mole man rasped, and Jackal shook his head in mock sorrow before tightening his grip again. The human choked, writhing limply in his grip, his face turning blue. "Wait!" it croaked, just as I was about to step in. "Last topsider we saw...he was trying to get out of the city...said the vampires had locked it down. Some kind of emergency. No one goes in or out."

"Why?" I asked, frowning. The human shook his head. "What about this topsider, then? He probably knows. Where is he now?"

The mole man gagged. "You...can't talk to him now, vampire. His bones...rotting in a sewer drain."

Horror and disgust curled my stomach. "You ate him."

"Oh, well, that's disgusting," Jackal said conversationally, and gave his hand a sharp jerk. There was a sickening crack, and the human slumped down the wall, collapsing face-first into the mud at our feet.

Horror and rage flared, and I spun on Jackal. "You killed him! Why did you do that? He wasn't even able to defend himself! There was no point in killing him!"

"He annoyed me." Jackal shoved the limp arm with a boot. "And there was no way I was going to feed on him. Why do you care, sister? He was a bloodthirsty cannibal who probably killed dozens himself. I did the city a favor by getting rid of him."

I snarled, baring my fangs. "The next human you kill in front of me, you'd better be ready for a fight, because I will come after you with everything I have."

"You're so boring." Jackal rolled his eyes, then faced me with a dangerous smile of his own. "And I'm getting a little tired of your holier-than-thou act, sister. You're not a saint. You're a demon. Own up to it."

"You want my help?" I didn't look away. "You want your head to stay on your neck the next time you turn your back on me?" His eyebrows rose, and I stepped forward, my face inches from his. "Stop killing indiscriminately. Or I swear, I will bury you in pieces."

"Yes, that worked out so well for you last time, didn't it? And it seems we keep having this conversation. Let me make something perfectly clear." Jackal, his eyes glowing a dangerous yellow, leaned closer, crowding me. I stood my ground. "If you think I'm afraid of you," he said softly, "or that I won't put another stick in your heart and cut off your head this time, you're only fooling yourself. I've been around a lot longer than you. I've seen my share of cocky vampires who think they're invincible. Until I rip their heads off."

"Anytime, Jackal." I reached back and touched the hilt of my sword. "You want that fight, just say the word."

Jackal stared at me a moment longer, then smiled. "Not today," he murmured. "Definitely soon. But not today." He stepped back, raising his hands. "Fine, sister. You win. I won't kill any more of your precious bloodbags. Unless I have cause, of course." He looked down at the dead mole man and curled a lip. "But if they come at me with knives or stakes or guns, all bets are off. Now, are we going to head into the city, or were you planning to hold hands with these cannibals and have a sing-along?"

I glanced once more at the broken corpse, wondering if his people would come for him and what they would do with his body if they did. Shying away from those thoughts, I stalked past Jackal and continued down the tunnel.

* * *

The rusty ladder that led up to the surface was exactly where I remembered it, and I felt another weird flicker of deja vu as I pushed back the heavy round cover and emerged topside. Nothing had changed. The buildings were still there, dark and skeletal, falling to dust beneath vines and weeds. The rusted hulks of cars, their innards gutted and stripped away, sat decaying along sidewalks and half-buried in ditches. The vampire towers glimmered in the distant Inner City, as they had every night before this. Familiar and unchanged, though I didn't know what I'd expected. Maybe I'd thought things would be different, because I was so different.

"Huh," Jackal commented as he emerged from underground, gazing around at the crumbling buildings, the roots and weeds that grew over everything and pushed up through the pavement. "This place is a right mess, isn't it? Where is everyone?"

"Nobody stays out after dark," I muttered as we walked through the weed-tangled ditch, hopped the embankment and strode into the street. "Even though the vamps force the Registered humans to give blood every two weeks, and have plenty of bloodslaves in the Inner City, they still go hunting sometimes."

"Of course they do," Jackal said, as if that was obvious. "What fun is feeding from bloodbags you don't catch yourself? It's like having a stocked lake and never fishing from it."

I ignored that comment, nodding to the very center of the city, where the three vampire towers were lit up against the night sky. "That's where the Prince lives. Him and his coven. They never come down to the Fringe. At least, I never saw them when I lived here."

Jackal grunted, following my gaze. "According to vampire law, as visitors to the city, we're supposed to check in with the Prince," he muttered. "Tell him where we're from, what our business is here, how long we're staying." He snorted and curled a lip. "I don't really feel like playing by the little Prince's rules, and normally I would say 'the hell with it,' but that's going to be a problem now, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I agreed. I could feel the pull that drew me toward my sire. It was faint now, flickering erratically, as if Kanin was barely hanging on to life, but it still pulled at me, right toward the three towers in the center of New Covington. "He's in the Inner City." I sighed.

"Yep. And we'll probably run into Salazar's men while we're there. Could make searching for Kanin challenging if they decide we don't belong." Jackal grimaced as if speaking from experience. "Princes tend to be irrationally paranoid about strange vamps in their cities."

"We'll just have to take that chance." I gazed at the vampire towers and narrowed my eyes. "Salazar tried to kill Kanin and me both after he found us in the city." Jackal snickered, and I scowled at him. "He won't be too fond of you, either, because you're Kanin's blood. He hates Kanin with a vengeance."

"Everyone hates Kanin," Jackal said with a shrug. "All the old Masters know what he did, what he helped create. If we say we're looking for him, Salazar will probably assume we want to kill him. He doesn't have to know the truth."

"And what if he decides he wants to come with us and do the honors himself?"

"Salazar is a Master." Jackal smiled evilly. "It would be helpful to have a Master around when we run into Sarren- they can tear each other to pieces, and we can sneak out with Kanin. If we're lucky, they'll kill each other. If not..." He shrugged. "Then we'll just finish off the survivor when he's distracted."

"I don't like it."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Jackal's voice was flat. "What, exactly, is tripping you up here, sister? Having the Prince help us? Letting him fight our psychotically murderous vampire friend? Or is it the whole 'kick him when he's down' thing that's tweaking your conscience?" He shook his head. "Don't be so bloody naive. Salazar is a vampire, one who's lived a very long time and has become a Prince the old-fashioned way-by killing all his competition. He'll do exactly the same to us if he has the chance." He bared his fangs. "And you are going to have to start thinking like a vampire, my dear little sister, or you're never going to survive this world."

His words had an eerily familiar ring to them. I'd told Zeke Crosse the same thing once, that the world was harsh and unmerciful, and he wasn't going to survive if he didn't see it for what it was.

"All right," I snarled. "Fine. Let's go see the Prince, but I'm not spending any more time with him than we have to. We're here for Kanin, nothing else."

"Finally." Jackal rolled his eyes. "The shrew can see reason after all." Bristling, I was about to tell him what he could do with his reason, when a noise stopped me. A soft noise. One that, for whatever reason, raised the hair on the back of my neck.

We both turned to see a lone figure staggering down the street toward us.