Michael watched the group of people whipping themselves into a frenzy. It was amazing. Ryder was a jerk. There was no denying that. He’d treated them terribly during their brief meeting and he’d even thrown his fists around, although he’d been careful to have no witnesses. Raj had told everyone he’d fallen against one of the displays, and the others seemed to believe it.
But when he talked—when Ryder talked—the crowd listened. They heard his words and they cheered him on with all their hearts.
Michael wished people would listen to him like that. He missed being in charge of a group. He closed his eyes and a face flashed across his memory. A small, sick boy. He remembered the child’s mother. She’d fought so hard to keep her boy alive. Then there was Evans. The man who’d traveled with Michael for three weeks after the first Bagger attack. Evans had trusted him. And Michael had betrayed him.
He’d left them all behind to die during an attack.
No, it was better if he wasn’t in charge. He’d only make a mess of things again.
But still.
Clementine nudged him with her shoulder. “I think we should leave after this,” she said, leaning in close and shouting straight into his ear. “We can sneak out or something. Heath isn’t here. He wouldn’t get involved with stuff like this. I’m game to head home tonight if you are.”
Michael nodded. “Maybe,” he shouted back. “Let’s see what happens.”
She looked at him, raising a single eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you believe this crap? There are thousands of Baggers out there and less than a hundred untrained students here. What chance do they have?”
“It’s probably the same chance whether they want to fight or hide,” Michael answered.
The girl with the ponytails started jumping in place, waving her hands about, and Michael ducked and moved closer to Clementine.
“We will fight,” Ryder screamed. “We will kill them before they get the chance to take any more of us down.”
“WARNING WARNING WARNING.”
Michael turned his head, wondering where Raj had gone. He spotted him a few feet away, leaning against the wall and drinking from a bottle of rum. He caught Michael’s gaze and winked.
“Enjoying the show, mate?” Raj offered up his half-empty bottle. Michael took a long drink.
He never got a chance to answer. A loud bang echoed through the exhibition room. Someone had thrown open the heavy doors. Katarina rushed in, blood pouring from a gash on her face. Everyone’s vocal chords cut off at once.
Dead silence.
Katarina swayed back and forth as her eyes tried to focus on the people waiting.
“They’re here,” she said.
Her knees buckled beneath her and she fell forward, her face making a sickening squelching noise as it hit the floor.
The PA system hummed. No one moved.
Several seconds ticked by. Finally the girl with the ponytails opened her mouth and let out a very long scream.
People began to run. They rushed past each other, bodies slamming into bodies as they all tried to reach the exit at the exact same time. A girl went down, tumbling to the ground as others stomped over her, completely oblivious to her weak cries. Another guy, the red-haired one, grabbed a girl by the hair and pulled her aside to try and get closer to the door. The girl spun around and ended up punching the guy beside her.
Complete frenzy.
Michael and Clementine would have to try and follow the crowd if they were going to get out in one piece.
Michael grabbed hold of Clementine’s hand and squeezed tightly. “Don’t let go of me,” he said.
“Not a chance.”
They tried to stick to the sides as they inched their way toward the door. Michael’s foot stepped on something squishy and he jumped back, horrified to see a body beneath him. He couldn’t see the face attached to it; there were too many legs rushing about. From somewhere down the hall, gunshots fired. People screamed louder. Some of them turned and tried pushing their way back into the room. A fist came out of nowhere, slamming into Michael’s ear. Tiny stars exploded across his vision. Clementine’s hand was jerked almost out of his. An older man pulled her back by her blond locks, trying to get past. Ignoring the pain in his ear, Michael raised an arm and tried to pry the guy’s hands out of her hair. He managed to free her, and the older man turned around in confused circles, several pieces of Clementine’s hair tangled in his fingers.
“You did this.”
The voice hissed in Michael’s ear. A fist hammered down on Michael’s skull, forcing his legs to become jelly. Suddenly he was down on the floor and staring up at the ceiling lights. Clementine immediately knelt to help him up, but Ryder grabbed her, pushing her aside as he reached down to place his hand across Michael’s throat. Bringing up his foot, he slammed the heel of his shoe straight into Michael’s stomach.
“You did this,” Ryder repeated. “You brought them here.”
“We didn’t do anything.” Michael’s voice gurgled under the pressure as Ryder’s hand tightened.
“Leave him alone, man.” Raj had joined the circle. “Look at him. There’s no black veins. He’s one of us.”
“He’s one of them,” Ryder continued. “He’s managed to fool me. His eyes are normal but he’s one of them. Maybe he’s working for them.” Ryder forced up a good ball of spit and let it fly at Michael’s face. “Traitor.”
The light of the room was starting to grow dim around the edges. Everything started to slow down. Michael could see Clementine throwing herself on Ryder’s back, pounding at him with her fists. A bright halo of light flickered from the back of her head. Her blond hair was glowing in the spotlights.
She was so beautiful. How come he hadn’t properly noticed it before?
He did, however, notice that Raj had turned over his rum bottle and the liquid was draining out onto the floor.
Someone’s going to slip, he thought.
Then Raj brought the bottle down along the side of Ryder’s head.
The air rushed back and Michael took it in with great gasping whooshes. He started coughing, which brought the stars back with a vengeance. Ryder dropped down across his legs, and Clementine quickly grabbed his arm and tried to pry him off Michael. The preacher was unconscious, blood trickling from a gash in the side of his head.
“Told you the guy’s a bit dense,” Raj said. Reaching down, he grabbed Michael by the arm and helped him to his feet. Clementine appeared on his other side, wrapping her small arms around his waist, trying to prop him up.
“I’m okay,” Michael finally mumbled. His throat burned when the words came out. So much pain. Everything had happened so quickly. It was a miracle the nut hadn’t crushed his windpipe.
“Really, I’m okay,” he repeated, but Clementine still refused to let go.
“We have to run,” she said. “Can you do it?”
Michael nodded.
Raj paused and glanced down at the unconscious Ryder on the floor. More gunshots echoed through the halls. The majority of the people had made it outside the exhibition room and their screams were distant as they rushed for the museum’s exits.
“You are cool, right?” Raj asked. “I didn’t just waste my booze on that guy for nothing, right? Holy crap, I can’t believe I clocked him like that.”
Michael stepped forward, trying to keep his knees from buckling. “Yeah, we’re cool. We had nothing to do with this. How could we?”
“I hate to admit it, but I think it is kind of your fault,” Raj said. “Mine too. Too much of a coincidence. They must have followed us from the library.”
“You think?”
Raj nodded. “I’ll take full blame. I should have known better. Not too sure what to do now.”
“You can come stay with us,” Clementine said. “And anyone else we can round up. We’ve got a safe house.”
“If we get out alive, babes,” Raj said. “I guess you’re following me again.”
He turned and headed into the darkness of
the hall.
Michael twisted his body around in Clementine’s hands until he was facing her. “Hey,” he said, and when she looked into his eyes, he leaned down and covered her lips with his. Time stopped for a brief moment.
“What was that for?” she said when he pulled away. Her eyes shone brightly under the generator lights.
“Because you’re beautiful.”
“You just discovered this now?”
Her fingers wrapped around his.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said. “Plenty of time for that later.”
He smiled and hobbled after her.
NOTHING
There is nothing more thrilling than the hunt.
Nothing.
Not even the kill.
I am Nothing.
I live for the moment of breathtaking anticipation when I pinpoint my prey.
Stalking it.
Waiting for the right moment to jump.
I crave the surprise on their face, the dulling of the corneas as I bring my weapon down and slash their throat. The feeling of life as it leaves their body. I can feel it. It’s both suffocating and invigorating. The air grows heavy as the mind starts to shut down. They greedily suck in that final breath. Then it’s over in the blink of an eye. If they have a soul, I am the one who devours it.
It doesn’t matter who they are. I will take them and I will consume them.
This is why we were drawn to each other. We both wanted the hunt. The reasons were different, but none of that mattered. We didn’t even particularly like or trust each other. We were too much alike in that way.
But we still bonded.
We wanted the kill. We could taste it on our tongues. The sweet, sticky flavor of revenge. There would always be the desire to right the deaths for which we felt responsible. We weren’t that different, although he’d have been shocked if he knew it. He would have blamed me for turning him. Twisting his thoughts and making them my own.
I had nothing to do with it.
At least when I was hunting with him, I was still normal. Well, as normal as I could be.
Secrets.
We had them. They were different, but at the same time, I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear they were the same.
Something made me stronger when I was part of a team, able to push the darkness deep down inside of me. I could control it.
But it was always hard.
I didn’t want it.
I lied to myself, refused to listen to the voices when they called. Tried to block them out. I needed to be strong enough to keep my own mind.
But they called to me.
When they grew too powerful, I’d get away.
Run. Run away.
Hide.
When they passed and I returned to normal, the guilt would eat me up.
And believe me, there was guilt. Lots of it. I lived each moment as if a thousand pounds of molten lava crushed my chest. You may not think I felt pity for my victims by the way I talk, but I did. I felt sorry for each and every one I harmed. I remembered them all in secret. All that weight on my soul took its toll.
Scratch that. I don’t have a soul. It’s gone. I lost it a long time ago.
And when I closed my eyes I saw their faces etched on my corneas. Staring down at me. Accusing. Hating. Wishing me the same death. Demanding to take back what I’d stolen from them. They’d eventually find me and drag me down. After a while I stopped looking in mirrors. I didn’t want to see what they saw.
They all haunted me.
Even when I killed my own kind.
MASON
They’d moved across town in the dark, sticking to the shadows, constantly searching for signs of life. They had their plan and it required careful movement. They’d been doing this for a few weeks now. Most nights after Aries said good night to Daniel, Mason would step out of the shadows and sit down next to the guy he didn’t like. It wasn’t a personal thing that kept him coming back. No, it went deeper.
The Baggers had noticed. They had to tread more carefully as the days went on. It would be bad for them to fall into a trap. But as they made their way across the Granville Bridge, nothing waited for them.
From a short distance away, the Burrard Bridge was a pile of rubble. The earthquake had claimed a good chunk of it. With the salty wind pushing his hair back off his forehead, Mason stared out at the space where the gigantic structure once stood. There was nothing there now except a cracked skeleton of metal truss and a solitary masonry pier.
Nothing left in a dead city.
The streets were hushed.
Mason didn’t believe it for a second. It was too calm.
“Why aren’t there more of them?” he asked. They leaned against the concrete, peering out across the bridge and toward the darkness beneath them. There was no electricity and it was hard to tell if the ground was empty. There were too many shadows to hide in. Too many abandoned cars and overgrown bushes. Plenty of places for psycho nutbars to crawl out of. From a distance he could see the sky lit up where the Plaza of Nations stood hidden. A soft glow seeped above the now empty condos that were once considered the most luxurious places to live. At least the ones that were still standing. Several of the buildings had collapsed into themselves. All of those indoor pools, hot tubs, and fitness rooms gone in the blink of an eye.
The Plaza of Nations was the place the white vans advertised as a safe haven. It was the only area in the downtown core that had electricity. Either they had powerful generators or someone had figured out how to turn on the juice for that section only. They were making the most of it. Sanctuary. All a person had to do, no matter how terrified or timid, was walk up to the gate and they’d welcome you in with open arms. No one would be harmed. It was supposed to be that simple. Mason didn’t believe it for a second.
A single spotlight flashed straight up into the night sky. It cut across the bay and both boys ducked as it grew closer.
Daniel shrugged. “Guards? Maybe one or two. Do you really think they expect someone to come down and try and break up the joint? Only idiots are going to go willingly to the plaza. No one in their right mind is going to try and attack it.”
“They know we’re out here.”
Daniel snorted. “We’re not a big enough threat. Sure, we’ve taken a few of them down. But there’s thousands more. I doubt we’ve even registered on their radar.”
Last night they’d found a nest of Baggers down on Moberly Road. They’d quickly scouted the area, mapping it, planning how best to come back and destroy them. Then it had been a bit of a shock when dozens of the white vans arrived on the scene. Mason and Daniel realized they’d been discovered and had barely managed to get away.
The day before they’d killed four of them.
It wouldn’t bring back the people the Baggers had murdered, but at least it would keep them from claiming more. Daniel had become Mason’s partner in crime. It was the only thing so far that made him cool.
Something had happened several weeks ago when Daniel first handed him the knife and they let Aries and the others run off to safety. It was the first time he’d actually felt in control since he’d gotten the fateful news that his mother was in the hospital just before everything broke loose. Before the darkness he’d fought so hard to ignore had taken control. The Baggers hadn’t killed her directly, but they were still responsible. And he would make them pay.
Tonight they had a different plan. A nicer one. It was Daniel’s idea and a good one.
The spotlight passed them by. Mason half expected to hear gunshots. Bullets tearing through his flesh as he tried to run between the shadows. He had these fantasies whenever he got too exposed. The Granville Bridge held no hiding spots. If the Baggers were to attack, their only way out would be to jump.
Of course, Mason knew he’d never do that. He’d fight instead. Even if it was hopeless. He’d just make sure to take as many of those monsters down with him as he could. It wouldn’t bring Chickadee back. But the thought still made
him smile.
Nothing happened. They reached the end of the Granville Bridge without great difficulty and set off through the darker parts of Yaletown. It was hard work. Most of the streets had been destroyed in the earthquake and several of the fallen buildings made it impossible to move in a straight line.
The stink of garbage was overwhelming. There were a lot of restaurants in the area and it smelled like every single one of them must have been overspilling with rancid food. Mason could see rats, too. Several of them moved in and out of the darkest corners as they searched for whatever it is rats search for.
“Even the cats stay away from those suckers,” Mason said when a particularly oversized white rat ran out in front of them with something dead clamped between its jaws. It glared at them with beady pink eyes before disappearing into a pile of rubbish.
“Cats are smarter than that,” Daniel replied. “They’ll stick to the mice and birds. Majority of them are probably feral by now. At least the ones that managed to get out of their human prisons. Must be cat heaven these days. No people. Lots of rodents. Cockroaches too. I used to live in a place over on Broadway that was infested with those little beasts. I used to have to shake my clothing out in the morning before I got dressed. Did you know you can freeze them and they’ll still come back to life?”
Mason had never seen a cockroach, but he nodded anyway.
“Come on,” Daniel said, kicking at a pile of bricks, the remains of what was probably once a trendy clothing store. “We’re not going to get around this way. We should go back to Pacific. It’ll be more open and that’s probably where they’re going to be standing guard, but I guess we don’t have much of a choice, do we?”
Pacific Boulevard was better. There were still a lot of buildings standing, silent skyscrapers blocking out the moonlight. Most of the windows had broken in the earthquakes, but there wasn’t any shattered glass on the concrete. The Baggers had obviously already started cleaning this area up. Easier for all those poor unlucky souls to just walk on in. And Daniel and Mason were taking full advantage of it. But the landscape was more open and it didn’t take long before they spotted the Baggers doing their patrol. They crouched down behind some cars and watched.