Disarming (7 page)

Elijah had spent the day rigging up solar panels and dozens of large batteries on the roof of the casino. Fuel for the generators would not last forever, and he had to come up with a better solution to sustain his home away from home. It’d taken a while to find enough raw materials to create his energy-producing station, but he had gathered enough to get it going.

He occupied one of the rooms next to the club as his own apartment when he wasn’t underground, and it had every luxury a person would ever need. The ferals didn’t wander this far up, making it an ideal place to live for now, a safe refuge he could run to if he ever needed it.

Jumping up from his perch, he headed over to the bar that sat nestled inside the club. He grabbed a bottle of beer out of the cool refrigerator and popped the top, cursing when he nicked his thumb on the cap’s sharp edges. Sucking on the wound, he reached over to turn on the stereo system. The room filled with the thumping hypnotic tempo of the techno, vibrating the chandelier that twinkled above. The mirror ball spun into life, shooting shining stars all across the room. It was a relief that the club could not be seen from below, but he never lit the dance floor at night.

He bobbed his head softly to the beat, losing his thoughts in the memories, and stared through the windows to gaze upon the desolate blue sky outside. Somewhere out there was something better. If he could figure out how to escape his ties to the city of Vida, he might get there, maybe even see the ocean again. For now, it was the only life he knew, the only place there were others like him. He wasn’t afraid to leave, it was just never the right time, the right situation. He was waiting for something. What it could be was a mystery even to him.

No one left Vida; it was forbidden. The underground human settlement was anything but home to Elijah. He was allowed to leave and scout for hives of crazed vampires or sites to fortify and keep supplied if they had to move. The “zompires” were what he had dubbed the dead. Their absence of humanity and lust for blood was akin to the creatures in the zombies of movies he had watched many times in his “previous life.” Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he would be in the middle of a vampire apocalypse. Never had he ever thought it would leave him alive—but changed—after surviving the initial infection. He had not turned into a mindless cannibal, nor had he perished. Though that had not left him certain it was better to have come out alive. It had been nothing but a perpetual curse since then.

He lit a cigarette, sucking in the bitter smoke and letting it seep from his lips and nose, enveloping his face and making his eyes water. He would have to shower once he got back to Vida; the leader Katrina did not allow smoking and would pitch a fit if she knew he spent his days smoking out here. He didn’t care. She could get mad if she wanted. He disliked her with every fiber of his being. He didn’t really know why, he just did. Her strict leadership was overbearing, and she treated him, along with his eleven soldiers, like freaks of nature. Something was off about her, too, and he’d find out sooner or later what it was.

Flicking the stub of the cigarette over the edge of the platform, he watched it plummet through the air until it was no longer visible. He smirked, laughing out loud and throwing his hands up into a stretch. It was amazing to breathe the fresh air and let the hours pass without a thought. He was free for this one moment, and that would hold him over until the next time.

Elijah chugged down the last gulp of cold beer and dangled the bottle from his fingertips, his languid hand hung over the railing, swaying with the breeze. He studied the Rio Casino across the way−brilliant in its dirty red and purple mirrored windows. It had been a fun place to hang out, too. He’d wanted to clear each casino out from the zompire infestations, but knew he’d never be able to do it alone. Eventually it would all fall to inevitable ruin anyway, no matter what he did to help maintain the buildings. Eventually the earth would swallow up the remnants of humanity, taking back what was hers in the first place.

He let go of the bottle, watching it descend into the oblivion below. Running his hand through his messy locks, he retreated and readied himself to return to his underground version of hell on earth.

~~~~~

April

THE SHATTERING OF
glass had sent me running into the shadows, propped with my machete and ready to pounce. My heart sat in my throat, pulsating hard and pounding in my ears as I strained to listen for any further sounds. Stillness surrounded me, and my breathing was my only company. It had come from above, of that I was certain. I studied the small mess of glass that now marked the street. The glittering green glass had sprayed out into a circular explosion, sending its shards in every direction. I moved my gaze up into the sky, but nothing but blue and an occasional cloud filled the expanse.

The windows were all pretty intact in the tall Palms Casino. Months of exposure to the elements had left them dingy and streaked. Nothing betrayed itself in the sea of glass, leaving me baffled on where it had come from. I suspected that whoever had dropped it had not seen me. It had not come near my position at all.

I glanced at my goal on The Strip. I had parked at the Gold Coast Casino, an old haunt of my father’s, intent on walking the rest of the way to The Strip down Flamingo. I had jetted across the street since I was going to keep to the southern end of the street this time. It didn’t take long before I was walking to the entrance of the Palms. Its sleek doors looked dusty enough to make me think there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but my gut told me otherwise. Someone was in there. I wanted to know who and why.

I shoved at the doors, only to be met with another set of heavy glass doors. Ferals definitely would find it hard to get into this place with the weight it took to push them open. But it wasn’t impossible. I continued on, holding my weapon in hand, ready for anything that might come tumbling toward me.

Inside, the air hung still and heavy, making the darkness thick, even with the full daylight pouring in from the doors behind me. The absence of windows made the light diminish after a few steps in, and the dark tint lining the glass didn’t help. I grabbed the flashlight off my belt and clicked it on. Sweeping the beam across the premise, I found nothing out of place.

It wasn’t until I bumped into a row of slot machines that a stack of plastic buckets, which had been used in the days of coins, came toppling over across my path. A snap of a rope caught my attention as one of the buckets rolled into its lasso and was sent flying as the rope’s slack pulled itself taut and hung like a noose just above me.

My heart was in my throat once more as I stared wide-eyed at the booby trap dangling before me. It swayed from the momentum, but hung empty. I didn’t dare step further in, suddenly aware of the slurry of traps coming into my view: hidden stakes strapped onto metal poles and endless loops of rope draped across the carpet. It was definitely rigged up, and one false step would send me flying into the air by one leg or get me staked through the heart for sure.

It was brilliant. Why I hadn’t thought of that was beyond me. I carefully took stock of the surroundings and discovered a small worn path to the right of the gaming area. It was not the first choice of anyone walking through here, which made it easy to hide and disguise the trap-free route. I snickered, making my way carefully to the path without setting off any more traps.

A gurgling sound drew my attention before I got to it. Turning back the way I had come, I held my blade out as I rounded a corner to find what had created the disturbance. A feral vampire hung by one leg, swinging and thrashing as I got closer. I examined its restraint, making sure it would hold before creeping closer. I watched as it twisted to look at me, its fangs exposed as a low guttural growl formed in its throat. He swung his arms at me, making the rope sway and creak under the movement. I grinned, finding it rather amusing. The trap was quite effective, rendering him harmless as he hung like a slab of cow on a meat hook.

I held my machete up and was about to slice through his neck when another noise startled me. I spun to my right and found a man waiting nearby, arms crossed, an angered frown pasted on his face. I didn’t turn back, certain the feral was helpless enough that I could leave him swinging as I sized up the stranger. Surprise was not the world that described what I felt. Shock was more like it.

“Who are you?” I demanded, gripping my machete tightly, wondering if he was a human or a hybrid. Without answering, he stepped closer, into a ray of light that leaked through a skylight high above the card game tables. He wore a rumpled light blue T-shirt with well-worn jeans covering dark black boots. His clothes were worn but clean. Stubble colored his strong jaw and his dark brown hair laid in locks that threatened to cover his ears and fall into his eyes.

The look on his face confirmed that he had not expected to encounter any humans. The very fact that whoever had taken such pain-staking steps to keep the ferals from entering the bottom floor of this place made me think that they had not figured other humans into the equation at all. How this person was so sure there were no others, was beyond me. But I had certainly not expected to meet a hybrid vampire when Miranda had waltzed into my life, for that matter. My guess was that the traps were never meant for humans, but had been laid there for feral vampires.

We studied each other, and I knew then he had stepped into the light on purpose, for me to know exactly what he was. The sun did not bother him, and there were no golden halos surrounding his irises, reflecting the light. He looked pretty human to me, which was intriguing yet shocking. I wondered what he had been up to for over a year in solitude and why I’d never run into him before.

“I’m Elijah.” He tilted his head to the side and continued to glare at me. “You’re trespassing.” He stepped even closer, making me back up, still holding out my sword. I didn’t trust him, but I could not bring myself to bolt out of there immediately.

Now standing by the dangling feral, he shifted his eyes to the animal swinging in his trap. With a snap of his arm, he decapitated the snarling creature with a sword I had not noticed on him before. Stepping back to a row of slots beside the fallen creature, he pulled the lever on the nearest slot machine which sent the rope and the body crashing down in a mangled heap. I watched his every move, waiting for an attack. But it did not come.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He muttered, kneeling down to undo the restraint on the feral’s leg. Finding it too tight to undo, he pulled out a hatchet and hacked the foot right off. Blood sprayed the carpet, but the rope was now free—and bloodied—but he nevertheless unraveled it and reset the lasso.

“What are you doing here?” I stuttered as I waited, unsure if I should let my guard down or not. He didn’t seem as threatening when his eyes were not bearing down on me. Still, I trusted no one.

“Does it matter? I live here, so
go away
.” Emphasizing the last two words, he refocused on me with the same daggered glare. I shook my head; I wasn’t going to go anywhere yet. Not without the answers I sought.

Our stare-down continued as he stood back up and pocketed the hatchet. He wiped the sword clean on the dead feral’s dirty clothes before placing it into a sheath attached to his belt. Obviously, he was pretty strong and intelligent to outsmart hordes of feral vampires for so long. I felt a sort of kinship with him, knowing we must have had so much in common.

Especially the human part.

“Very well then.” He groaned and turned, heading down the unrigged path to an elevator. He hit the button, which lit up at his touch. My mouth hung open as the doors slid open and the empty car revealed a well-kept ride. “You coming or are you going to stay there with your jaw on the floor?” He smirked, the death glare all but gone. I followed him to the elevator and entered, positioning myself beside him, never letting him out of my vision. He gave me a curt nod and hit the penthouse button.

The lurch made me grab the side rails of the car. The last time I had ridden an elevator was at the Stratosphere Tower. It had ended pretty badly, with me beaten and near death. It was not a pleasant memory whatsoever, and I was pretty sure my apprehension was showing as he focused his eyes on me. It was like he was trying to probe my mind as we shared this tiny space. The end came quickly, with a slight ding as the doors opened onto the highest floor of the building.

If shock could permanently be stamped on my face, right then would have been a good time for it to happen. He led me into the old Ghost Bar, a dance club I had heard about and seen advertisements for on TV. He had it all rigged up with electricity somehow, and the lights on the chandeliers above the bar twinkled. It was pristine, like any minute a gang of partiers could waltz right in. But it was just me and this Elijah. And I still had no clue who he was.

“Not too shabby, right?” He beamed at my shock and headed toward the bar. A door stood right by the end of the counter, he entered a code into the panel beside it and then pushed it open. He motioned for me to follow. I was still awestruck, but I reminded myself to remember where the hell I was.

The bottles of beer lining the shelves of the bar were green, just like the shattered glass on the road.

I entered what was a comfortably-sized apartment behind the bar. It had a simple set up to it and one black accent wall. His bedspread was a striped black and brown, making it clean and crisp. It looked like a hotel room, but the decorative knives and swords lining the walls and sitting in glass displays along with the pictures of smiling people made it more lived in. One picture was of a woman, bright blue eyes and dark brown hair. Her perfectly white smile gleamed at me through the glass. Another had an older couple, white hair peppering their once dark strands and wrinkles cinching on their happy faces. I wondered who they were, what they meant to this man. I was definitely fascinated.