Forged From Ash (32 page)

“Something they never got,” Cole replied as though he was spitting every word into someone’s face. “They were holding me in an old prison. Me, Frank and a few others. After we got away from there, I’ve been keeping my eyes and ears open for any word about other places like that. When I heard about this one, I stepped up my effort to find it so I could hit these pricks where they live, get what I need as far as finding that Full Blood and blow another Vigilant hellhole to pieces.”

“I like the blowing up part,” Asher said. “Should we go back and light a fuse?”

“Nah. That place is already done. There’s no way The Vigilant will keep it running now that it’s been found. The location was pretty much all it had going for it.”

“I thought it was done when the plane crashed.”

“What?”

“The plane. The one on top of my hole in the ground. Didn’t you see it?”

“Yeah, I saw it. I just…” Cole thought about it for a second and then felt like an idiot. All the evidence he’d seen made it look as if the crash had happened after the packs took over. Plenty of planes were downed once the Full Bloods found a way to spark the change in humans from a distance. Pilots shifted or were killed by passengers who’d turned, and the planes started to fall. If Asher didn’t know about all of that, then he must have been underground for a while before the plane had crashed.

“I heard the crash a while back and thought the shit bags had finally given up on me and decided to blow the place up. Then I heard scraping, machines, workers. Every so often, a bunch of ‘em would show up and stomp around over me. I think they were meeting about something. I tried to listen, but some of the other voices drowned them out.”

“They were setting up a base,” Cole said. “I bet that’s it! The plane crashed pretty close to your prison, and they decided to fortify that spot and grow it into a full base. That way they got a nice, strong structure in a defensible spot, and from the air or anywhere else, it would just look like a wreck. Not too shabby.”

Asher shrugged. “Or they could’ve been building a bigger prison. This one’s been here for decades.”

Turning to him, Cole asked, “Decades?”

“At least. Some of the markings inside my box went all the way back to April eleventh of seventy-three.”

“That far back? You’re sure?”

“It ain’t like I had much more to read. The last time they let me have my own light down there was a while back, though. At least a few months.”

Cole looked through his scope once again. Frank’s expression seemed less anxious than before, but wasn’t exactly easy to read. “Doesn’t matter now. This place is still done.”

“Not necessarily,” Asher said. “Looks like they’re still bringing in truckloads of men and guns.”

“Those are just the reinforcements that were called in when we busted you out of there.”

“What happened today may have been enough to shut this place down before. Now, though, it seems they can get away with a whole lot more. I mean, it ain’t like the Highway Patrol is making regular stops around here. Even the military must have better things to do than worry about some bunch of crazies keeping a few people locked up, especially if they’re only human crazies.”

“You sure you couldn’t hear much while you were locked up?” Cole asked.

“I heard some things, but I was on my own a lot longer than I was locked up here.”

At the first sign of movement further down the road, Cole took a quick look and said, “Frank’s bringing the truck this way. Get ready to jump on.”

“Them shit bags had plenty of time to drag a goddamn passenger plane to where they wanted without bein’ noticed. They’re drivin’ around like they’re the goddamn Army! You think losing me will really be enough for them to pack up their stuff and leave?”

“We know where this place is,” Cole said while standing up to signal Frank. “We hit them pretty hard. That’ll have to be enough for now.”

Asher stood up as well. “Eh, you’re just like all the others. You ain’t got the stomach to do what needs to be done.”

“We came and got you! What the hell else do you want?”

“How many of them shit bags did you kill? I saw ‘em laying on the floor, but they were still breathin’! What were you keeping them alive for? You figured on feeding ‘em to the Half Breeds? Damn! That would have been great!”

As the Ford rolled to a stop near them, Cole said, “Shut up, and get in.”

After taking a moment to think about it, Asher shook his head hard enough to get all of his braids swinging back and forth. “Nah. I prefer to be on my own.”

“How about this?” Cole added while pointing the Brown Precision at him. “Please.”

“You got food? Something good like pancakes or waffles or corned beef hash?”

“We should be able to scrape something up.”

“Why are you waiting?” Frank called out from the truck. “We need to go before more of them drive down this road!”

Asher looked at the truck and then looked down the road toward Tensleep Canyon. Next, his eyes wandered in the opposite direction without once giving the slightest bit of attention to the large rifle in Cole’s hands. “You think we could burn these guys some other time?”

“Trust me,” Cole replied. “All three of us want to burn them. We’ll have to wait for another good chance, but we’ll have plenty to keep us busy in the meantime.”

Now Asher looked at Cole, studying him with eyes that were a milky shade of green. Finally, he smiled and said, “The two of you seem like a couple of real prime specimens.”

“I know where to find a large pancake breakfast,” Frank said.

Asher clapped his hands together and shoved Cole’s rifle aside so he could climb into the truck. “Me and Gorn out for flapjacks! This apocalypse ain’t so bad.”

Cole climbed in after him and shut the door.

“Sorry it took so long,” Frank said. “There were other trucks filled with armed men heading for the canyon. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.”

Suddenly, Asher snapped his head up and clambered over Cole to force his way out through the passenger door. By the time Cole had jumped out after him, Asher had disappeared into the bushes. Almost immediately, Asher returned dragging his pink and purple carryon behind him.

“Can’t forget my new threads!” Asher said before tossing the case into the back.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Sodrazica, Slovenia

R
andolph hadn’t shifted into his upright form for days on end. In fact, he’d hardly stopped running in that time. Only when he needed to sleep or eat did he slow down long enough for the wind to stop singing in his ears. The lands he’d visited were cold and stark, which was mostly how they’d been before the days had grown so dark for the human race. Unlike the urban sprawl of London and Paris, Slovenia lay in front of him looking much as the continent used to when he’d first stretched his legs as a Full Blood. Randolph had never visited this exact tract of land, however, and was somewhat intrigued by any piece of ground that didn’t seem at least a little bit familiar.

Trees sprouted from the ground but swayed in peculiar directions as if they were being pushed by winds other than the ones that rustled the Full Blood’s fur. When he looked in one direction, Randolph saw dirt that had been piled into grassy mounds. A glance in another direction showed him bare rock scarred by the elements that seemed just a bit too close to the surface. Small animals could be seen and not heard. Birds flew just a little higher than normal. A vague trepidation sank into the pit of Randolph’s belly which, for a Full Blood, was the most peculiar thing of all.

Suddenly, Randolph regretted diverting his travels to go there. Time was no longer something he had in abundance. Even if he did find what was supposed to dwell there…

And then he saw it.

His eyes had just swept over a plateau to the north a few seconds ago. When he looked back that way again, he’d expected to find the same emptiness that had been there before. Instead, he saw a beast crouching atop the subtle rise. It wasn’t standing tall enough to assert itself as keeper of this domain yet dominated it all the same. It had the shape of a Full Blood but not the scent.

It had no scent at all.

“Impossible,” Randolph growled.

After staring at him for a short while, the beast atop the rise lowered itself to lay with its head resting upon its front paws. Its eyes were still fixed on Randolph, but it no longer seemed concerned about his presence if indeed it had ever been concerned in the first place.

Randolph approached the rise cautiously. His ears pricked up, and he drew in twice as many breaths as he needed so he could taste as much of the air as possible. As he got closer, he still couldn’t smell the other beast, but he could hear its breaths rolling in and out of cavernous lungs.

Now that he was within three paces of the beast, Randolph could see it was more than just another Full Blood. Its thick coat of fur was dark, misty gray peppered with strands of black. Long, curved fangs extended from its mouth at irregular intervals like spires of rock that had formed within an ancient cave. Its paws were large and flattened by untold years spent hammering against the earth. It stared at him with mild curiosity and pearl white eyes shot through with veins that looked more like cracks upon the surface of weathered marble.

“You are the Celtic child,” the gray Full Blood said in a deep, scratchy voice. “Birkyus.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Many have been speaking of you. The humans call you Randolph Standing Bear.”

“Few who know my birth name speak it with such perfect pronunciation. You honor me.”

Licking his lips as if on the cusp of a yawn, the gray one said, “I know how to speak a word. That doesn’t mean I honor it. You have been traveling wide in recent days.”

“Have you been watching me?”

“No. Your coat smells of British waters, Scottish dirt, the airs of France, German smoke, Russian snows.”

“And yours smells of nothing at all,” Randolph snapped. “How can this be?”

The gray one sat up and cocked his head to one side. “I have lived a great many years. In that time, I have occasionally drifted into listlessness or despair. I can truly say I have never been so tired or so bored that I have studied my own scent.” One side of his mouth curled into what could have either been a smile or an attempt to suck a piece of meat from between his back teeth.

“You are Borrek?”

The gray one’s eyes were not solid white. Randolph could see that now. Instead, their pupils were alive and swirling like a cauldron full of steam as they narrowed slightly and took in every detail before him. “It has been a long time since I have heard that name. And to hear it pronounced correctly is much more of a feat than my knowledge of the Celtic tongues. Who spoke it to you?”

“It came to me as I was running. I…thought I heard it in the wind.”

Borrek’s wide head bobbed up and down. “You sound like you don’t believe what you say.”

Randolph’s eyes rolled slightly. It was a gesture he’d picked up from the humans like one of their many viruses. “It seems quaint.”

“Quaint?”

“Almost as quaint as following the voices heard in a dream. Such fanciful notions are left for children and poets.”

“This coming from someone who walks as both wolf and man?” Borrek chided. His snout wavered slightly as he stalked forward and sniffed the air. “From someone with the breath of ancients clinging to his fur.”

“The breath of ancients?”

“Don’t take me for a fool, boy. You’ve been walking with the Mist Born.”

Randolph straightened up and lifted his chin to an almost haughty angle. “I have.”

“How many have you seen?”

“Kawosa roams free, although I don’t know where he is now. I have sensed the presence of Tiddalik, the Water Keeper, in the seas to the west.”

“And what of the Snake Lord?” Borrek asked.
Randolph considered lying to the gray one but decided against it for several reasons. Self preservation ranked high among them. “I have also seen Icanchu,” he said. “But that was before the humans fell.”

“The humans have fallen before.”

“Not like this,” Randolph said. “They were attacked by the leeches and pressed close to extinction by several of our own.”

“I thought things had gone quiet. That could be why.”

When he moved forward, Randolph did so cautiously. Borrek stood, and as Randolph continued to advance, the gray one lifted himself onto his back legs. He shifted into his full upright form, bones creaking like an oak being tested by strong winds. There was power within him. It ran so deep that it could barely be sensed, but it was there. Randolph stood on his hind legs as well, shifting into the most primal of his shapes in order to display every layer of muscle that could be heaped upon his frame.

“Have you felt the change within the wellspring?” Randolph asked, using a term that was outdated even for one of his years.

Borrek nodded once, clearly recognizing that the younger Full Blood was speaking in antiquated terms for his benefit. Like any human who found himself in that situation, he didn’t like it. “Of course I have. It has been many years since I have had to draw from the Torva’ox. My sire taught me the benefits of an even temperament and not exerting oneself unless it is absolutely necessary.”

“The voice that led me here said that you were old. If that truly was coming from a Mist Born, you must have dust running through your veins.”

“You goad me so that you may get an idea of my abilities. You want me to lash out so you can feel how much strength is behind my claws. You believe you are strong enough to survive an attack from anyone.”

“The Snake Lord himself could not put an end to me.”

“I am no snake,” Borrek said. “Tell me why you came here. Surely, it cannot be simple curiosity sparked by a voice on the wind.” The gray one squinted at Randolph for a few seconds before digging his claws into the dirt. “You wanted to see if I was tainted by the wellspring.” Closing his eyes, he stretched his neck toward the younger beast and drew a long breath through his wrinkled nose. “So you have not squandered the prize you won from Icanchu? Will you use your prize to put yourself on Esteban’s good side?”