Read The Forever Song Page 12


  I just didn’t know if I could do it.

  Numb, I gazed around for my sword, feeling the empty sheath against my back, light and disconcerting. When I didn’t immediately find it, I panicked for a moment…before I remembered. It had been left behind when Kanin jumped out the window with me. My weapon was still on the top floor of the tower…with Zeke.

  And then, I remembered something else.

  “Where’s Jackal?” I whispered, spinning toward Kanin as he rose, his shoulders slumped. The last thing I remembered from before I’d blacked out in Kanin’s arms was Jackal, surrounded by raiders, struck down with a crossbow bolt, and Zeke advancing on him. Kanin gave me a look that was full of regret.

  “He’s not here, Allison. He didn’t make it out of the city.”

  No. I clenched my fists, refusing to believe it. No, not Jackal. He can’t be dead; he always makes it out.

  On impulse, I reached out for Jackal’s presence, searching for him through our blood tie. Suddenly terrified, I braced myself to feel nothing, solid proof that my infuriating, inscrutable blood brother was no longer in the world. That something had finally killed him.

  There was a pulse, and I closed my eyes in relief. It was faint and erratic, like the dying heartbeats of a bird, but it was there. Desperately, I followed it, needing to see open sky, to get out of this suffocating tomb. The steps were blocked with decades of rubble and stone, but a hole in the floor led down into an ancient, rusty pipe, which eventually emptied into a storm drain. I crawled from the opening and found myself at the edge of the lake, cold water sloshing at my boots.

  From where I stood, I couldn’t see Jackal’s old city, but I could feel him, that faint tug from somewhere over the turbulent waters, telling me he was still out there.

  Headlights suddenly pierced the darkness, and I shrank back as three raiders cruised out of the shadows, one after the other, riding along the edge of the lake. They vanished down another street, the growl of their engines fading into the night, but I knew what they were searching for.

  “They come by every few hours, searching along the water’s edge,” Kanin said, emerging from the pipe. “There are more in the ruins, going through buildings and empty houses, looking for us. Thankfully, they have not found this place yet, but they know we are still in the city.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “Because not all of them make it back,” Kanin replied gravely, and looked down at me. “You were badly hurt, Allison. You needed blood, and a lot of it, to have a chance of coming out of hibernation. The lake’s edge was a good spot to take shelter; it allowed for easy disposal of the bodies. But they’ve noticed that their numbers have slowly dwindled, and they now patrol the city in groups of at least three.” His mouth thinned in a humorless smile. “It appears Ezekiel is not about to let us go.”

  Zeke. I forced my thoughts away from him, trying to suppress the horror of the task before me. I would deal with that when I faced him again. I would not think of him now, because then I would fall apart.

  “Jackal is still out there,” I muttered. Kanin nodded grimly.

  “Yes, he’s still alive,” my sire agreed. “I feel him, too. But he hasn’t moved in two days, and I fear where he might’ve ended up. I believe he is somewhere deep within the flooded city, unable to move or feed himself.” Kanin’s eyes narrowed in the direction the bikes had gone. “It seems they have not found him yet, but he will not be able to hide forever. And there is still the matter of Sarren.” His gaze grew distant and troubled. “This was likely his plan all along, to slow us down, give himself more distance and time. He is likely very close to Eden now, if he has not already arrived.”

  I bit my lip. “We…we’re going back for him, right?” I asked, and Kanin glanced down at me, his expression blank. “We can’t leave him behind, Kanin,” I argued. “I know he’s a bastard, and he’d probably leave us if he were in the same situation, but…” I trailed off with a helpless gesture, unable to explain. I felt empty and defeated, weighed down with despair, the knowledge of what I had to do: destroy the evil thing Zeke had become. I was so tired of it. I didn’t want to lose anyone else, not even Jackal. He was ruthless, infuriating, selfish, and would sell us out without a second thought, but he was my brother, the only family I had left besides Kanin. “I’m going back for him,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady under my sire’s steady gaze. “You don’t have to come. Keep going to Eden. Find Sarren, stop the plague. That’s always been your objective. I understand.” I swallowed hard as he continued to stare at me, unblinking. “But I’m going back for Jackal.” And Zeke.

  Kanin cocked his head at me, appraising. “Is it worth it?” he asked, making me frown. “Two lives for the rest of the world?” he continued. “Are you willing to sacrifice everything to save one and destroy another?”

  “What do you—”

  “Answer the question, Allison,” Kanin continued in a quiet but ruthless voice. “I want you to understand exactly what you are deciding, right now. If we return to the city for Jackal and Ezekiel, Sarren could reach Eden, complete whatever he is planning, and unleash a virus that could destroy everything. And if that happens, everything we’ve done here will be for nothing. Do you understand that?”

  I blinked at him. “We?”

  Kanin sighed. “I cannot take Sarren alone,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice. “If we are to have any hope of stopping him, we must face him together. But, regardless of that, I refuse to leave one of us behind, even one as volatile as him. I created him. I am responsible for his life. So, you will not be going into the city after James, Allison. I will.”

  I blinked in shock. He peered down, dark gaze boring into me. “I just want you to understand the potential consequences of tonight,” he went on. “If we are killed, if we cannot get to Sarren in time, everything could die. It will be like it was sixty years ago. You aren’t old enough to remember the days Before, but when Red Lung was at its peak, the entire world was madness and chaos. And when the rabids appeared, it became hell on earth.” Kanin paused, brows drawing together as he gazed at the ruined city around us. “It is…a very heavy weight to carry, Allison, the damnation of a world. I want you to be very certain, before we go any further. Is it worth it? Is he worth it?”

  His words chilled me, but I already knew my answer. It was selfish, it was unreasonable, and I knew it was the wrong choice. But I looked up at Kanin, into his impassive face, and whispered, “Yes.”

  “You are willing to let others die for this. To let Sarren win.”

  “He won’t win,” I said. “You and Jackal will get to him in time, I know you will. But…I have to do this, Kanin.” Turning, I gazed over the dark lake, feeling Jackal’s faint glimmer of life, and the ugly yawning decision that awaited me with Zeke. “I won’t leave Zeke like that. He’s suffering, even if he doesn’t realize it. If it were me, you’d do the same.”

  “And how do you expect to fight him?” Kanin asked softly. “Your weapon is gone.”

  “I don’t know,” I muttered, feeling a sharp pang of loss at the reminder. I missed my sword; without the familiar weight across my back I felt oddly naked and incomplete. “I’ll find something, I guess. A pipe, a broken bottle. The end of a stick, it doesn’t matter.”

  Kanin sighed. Without a word, he stepped close, took my wrist, and placed the sheath of his thin, razor-sharp dagger into my palm. I blinked as he wrapped my fingers around it, the blade light and lethal in my hand, and looked up at him.

  “Kanin, I can’t—”

  “Take it, Allison.” Kanin pulled his arm back, leaving the blade and sheath gripped loosely in my fingers. “You will need something to defend yourself with, as I am not coming with you. If you insist upon facing Ezekiel alone, I will not send you into battle empty-handed.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’ll return it, Kanin. I swear.”

  Kanin raised a hand. “Just listen a moment, Allison. Before we take another step, I want you to be very sure of w
hat you’re about to do.” He gazed down at me, his eyes and face dark, his mouth pulled into a grim line. “We have done exactly what Sarren wanted, what he planned for us, every step of the way. It was never random chance that you found Ezekiel. He was put here to stop us—his orders were likely to kill us all, keep us from reaching Eden. But Sarren specifically left him behind for you, Allison. And Ezekiel will be his most dangerous creation, because he knows you so well.” Kanin’s gaze narrowed. “No matter what he says, no matter what you tell yourself, you must remember that your human is gone. And the thing Sarren left behind is just a twisted mockery of Ezekiel Crosse.”

  I bit my lip to stop the stinging in my eyes, struggled to keep my voice from cracking. “I know,” I almost snarled. “I know he’s gone. Why are you telling me this now?”

  “Because I want your eyes to be fully open,” my sire replied. “You must know what you are walking into. You cannot let your feelings for Ezekiel cloud your judgment. He will try to kill you, Allison. And he will succeed if you are not fully prepared to end his life.” His gaze sharpened, cutting into me. “Are you absolutely certain you can do this?”

  No, I thought in despair. But I won’t leave him…like that. “Yes,” I told Kanin, and my voice was almost steady. The

  Master vampire regarded me a moment longer, then nodded. “Then this is where we will part,” he stated, turning toward the lake. A cold wind hissed across the water, tugging at our hair and clothes, as Kanin’s dark gaze swept over the vastness before us. “I am unsure where Jackal is,” he murmured.

  “I simply know that our blood tie will lead me to him. But I don’t know what state he will be in when I find him, if he is in hibernation, severely wounded, or close to Blood Frenzy. It might take me a while to locate his body, and even longer to help him. We might be separated for a good length of time.” I didn’t like the idea of splitting up, but there was no better choice. Jackal had to be found, and I had to face Zeke.

  Better that Kanin find the raider king and get them both out of Old Chicago. That way, if I died—if Zeke killed me—at least they would still have a chance of stopping Sarren. And even that seemed like a long shot now. Time was slipping away from us; Sarren might’ve already gotten to Eden and destroyed the only hope left for the rest of the world. We might already be too late.

  “Where will you go from here?” Kanin asked, turning back to me. I shrugged.

  “Back to the city, I guess. Unless you think Zeke is riding around with the patrols?”

  “No.” Kanin shook his head. “If I know Sarren’s mind, Ezekiel will be waiting for you to come to him. Probably in a place that has significance to you both. I do not know where that will be, but…” His brow furrowed. “I’m certain you will find it, and him, fairly soon.”

  “All right, then.” I sighed, taking a step back. Nothing left to do now but go, face the boy I had to kill. “I guess…I’ll see you and Jackal when this is over.” One way or another. “Allison.”

  Kanin was still watching me as I turned back, his expression unreadable. “When you have dealt with Ezekiel,” he said, “wait for us on the eastern road out of the city. If we’re not there by tomorrow evening, go on to Eden without us.”

  Something passed through his eyes, a flicker of emotion, before it was gone. “Be careful.”

  I nodded. “You too, Kanin.”

  He turned then, and walked into the black waters of the lake without looking back. I watched until his dark head vanished below the surface, then made my way up the bank, into the street, and back toward the flooded city. Back to Old Chicago and Zeke.

  As I slipped through the silent, ruined city, canyons of cement and rusting steel towering overhead, I could feel the lingering pain in my chest start to fade—the physical ache, anyway. My body was finally healing; the blood Kanin had given me was repairing the last of the damage from the wooden spike that had been driven through my heart by the boy I had lost.

  My stomach clenched, and not from Hunger this time. I… was really going to do this. Kill Zeke. Because some sick, demented vampire had Turned him into a monster. Wiped his mind clean, destroyed his memories, and twisted him into something I didn’t recognize.

  I’m going to destroy you, Allie, because he wanted it to be me. He wanted you to see me tear the heart from your chest and crush it in my fist. It will be poetically ironic, he said, whatever that means.

  “Damn you, Sarren,” I growled, as the stupid angry tears pressed behind my eyes again. “If I survive this, nothing will stop me from finding you and tearing you in half. The world could be falling apart around us, and I’ll still see you dead before it’s over, I swear it.”

  But that didn’t stop the ache at what I had to do now. I shot a quick look at the tops of the ruined skyscrapers, crumbling and skeletal, against an ominous navy blue sky. Not much night left. Maybe a couple hours to sneak into the flooded city, find Zeke, and kill him. But I couldn’t turn back. By this time tomorrow night, I would either be on the road to Eden, hopefully with Kanin and Jackal, or I would be a pile of ashes swept away by the wind.

  At the edge of the river, I paused, gazing over the water into the flooded city. Apparently, the traps and mines Zeke had set when we’d first come through had been taken down, because the city was no longer empty. Torches and lanterns were lit again, glowing orange in the darkness, and humans milled about the platforms and crossed the walkways and bridges without fear, though not in the numbers I’d seen before. In fact, only a few people seemed to be out, in small groups or pairs, or just wandering the bridges alone. I wondered if the majority of the raider force was out patrolling the city, looking for three escaped vampires. Or maybe they were all with Zeke, and I was walking into another trap.

  Slipping into the water, I retraced my steps from the night Jackal had led us through. I swam to the base of his tower but, instead of going through the flooded stairwell, entered the building through the front doors and surfaced in the lobby.

  It was empty. No raiders or guards lurked in the shadows or paced the walkways overhead. It seemed odd that no one was expecting me, but I wasn’t going to question it. Silently, I made my way to the far wall where, just like on the very first time I’d come through, the elevator sat, still coughing and spitting sparks, in the corner of the room. Not bothering with the lever or the questionable machinery, I climbed atop the rickety box, grabbed the cable, and shimmied up the shaft, going hand over hand, until I reached the very top floor.

  It was still quiet, despite the evidence that a brutal fight had raged here not long ago. Streams of bullet holes dotted the floor and walls, punched through plaster and the remaining windows, shattering them. Dried blood was smeared everywhere, on the floor, laced across the walls; there was even a spatter of it on the ceiling, evidence that the two vampires who’d fought their way to get to me had left carnage in their wake. I swallowed hard, gripping Kanin’s dagger beneath my coat. Both of them had sacrificed so much to get me out. The least I could do was destroy the evil that Sarren had left behind.

  The door to the lab stood open, creaking on its hinges. No guards stood before it, no raiders, no Zeke smiling his awful smile. But sticking out of the wooden frame, glimmering in the dim light through the shattered windows, was a familiar sword.

  My sword.

  Warily, I edged forward, barely stopping myself from reaching out and snatching the blade from the wall. I couldn’t smell any humans nearby, and there was nothing on the ground or the sword itself to indicate a trap. Nothing seemed unusual or out of place, except a small scrap of paper, folded over and shoved halfway down the blade itself.

  Carefully, ready to leap back if needed, I reached up, grabbed the hilt of my weapon, and pulled it from the frame.

  It slid out easily, and I stepped back, waiting. When nothing happened, I glanced down, tore the slip of paper from the blade, and flipped it open.

  I’m at the Pit, the note read, making my insides go cold. Face me.

  The paper fluttered fro
m my hand and blew away down the hall as I closed my eyes, gripping the sword tightly with my other hand. All right, Zeke, I thought, swallowing the lump in my throat. Opening my eyes, I gazed out the broken windows to where a smaller, blackened building sat several blocks away on the corner. Of course, he would be there, just as Kanin had said. A place that was significant to us both. You’ve made your point. Let’s end this.

  I didn’t swim below the city this time. I didn’t bother to hide my presence. Zeke knew I was coming; he was expecting me. I walked down the ramp and across the bridges, striding in plain sight toward the Pit, my sword strapped to my back and my face set into a blank, don’t fuck with me mask.

  No one did. Humans took one look at me and quickly backed off, cringed away, or fled my presence entirely. Perhaps Zeke had told them I was coming. Perhaps the rest of the army was away, searching for Kanin and Jackal. No one stepped up to challenge me as I made my way over the rickety bridges and catwalks, ignoring the men and women who watched from the shadows, reeking of fear. That, and the scent of warm blood, stirred the Hunger, urging me to attack, to paint the platforms in red, to drench myself in it before I faced my enemy. I firmly shoved it down. I was here for one person, though if someone did try to interfere, they wouldn’t live long enough to regret it.

  The Pit loomed before me at the end of the walk, the old theater where Zeke and I had first seen Jackal, several months ago. Back then, it had been a crumbling but still majestic brick building, its neon-red CHI AGO sign blazing against the night. That was before we’d rescued our group and set the Pit on fire. Now, the old building was blackened and charred, the roof had partially collapsed, and steel beams poked into the sky like the skeleton of an ancient beast. The CHI AGO sign had gone dark, never to be lit again.