The Forever Song (36 page)

“It’s huge,” I whispered as Kanin stepped up beside me, silently assessing the enormous task before us. “How are we going to stop it?”

“We can’t stop it,” Kanin said, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the vessel and its inexorable push toward the land.

My stomach lurched. Were we too late, then? Had we come this far, fought all this way, only to lose?

“We don’t have to stop it,” Kanin said. There was a flatness in his voice, a finality. “We need to turn it around. If we can get to the helm, we should have enough room left to bring the barge around and head it back to Eden. If we can ground it on the island, we should be able to contain things.” He paused, and I saw something in his eyes that I couldn’t quite define. Sadness? Resolve? “We can deal with the rabids then, but the most important thing is not to let them escape to the mainland.”

I nodded, and Zeke glanced at the raider king, standing at the helm. “Get us close,” he called, and the boat surged forward, bouncing through the waves left in the barge’s wake.

As we closed the distance, the shadow of the huge barge looming over us, a tall, pale figure suddenly appeared, leaning over the railings. My lips curled back from my fangs, and I felt Zeke stiffen beside me.

Sarren, the scarred, brilliant, crazy psychopath himself, walked calmly along the top deck, smiled and waved to us.

I snarled, hatred, fury and determination flaring up at the sight of the deranged vampire. There’d be no easy way around. Sarren was waiting for us, and we’d have to deal with him before trying to stop the ship from plowing its way into the checkpoint.

Then Sarren raised his hand and pointed a long, bony finger into the air, at something along the side of the ship. I flicked a glance at where he was pointing, and gripped the railing hard enough to feel it bend beneath my fingers.

A metal pole hung over the edge of the barge, away from the side of the ship. A net swung from that pole, dangling over the foaming water. Inside, two small, terrified faces peered out at me, and my stomach dropped.

“Caleb!”
Zeke surged forward, looking like he might jump the railing, his horrified gaze on the net swinging precariously over open water. “Bethany! Hang on! I’ll be right there!”

A faint scream came from the kid’s direction, Caleb’s highpitched voice crying out for Zeke. I could see both children now, tied back-to-back with heavy chain, their faces streaked with tears. Eight-year-old Bethany, golden-haired, fragile and shy, but who had still survived the entire nightmare-filled journey to Eden. And Caleb, six years old, resilient beyond his age, and the only person in the entire group who had never been afraid of me because I was a vampire.

Horrified, I looked back at Sarren, and he gave me a wide, evil smile, fingering a rope that had been tied to the railing. The rope stretched back toward the barge, pulled taut up the side of the ship and toward the metal pole. Everything inside me went cold.

Don’t,
I thought desperately. For Zeke, for Caleb and Bethany, and everyone else caught in Sarren’s ruthless sights.
For the love of God, if you have some sliver of humanity left in you, any at all, don’t do it.

Sarren raised his left arm—the arm I’d sliced off with my katana the last time we met, severing it just above the elbow. A viciously curved blade had replaced the forearm, attached to his elbow with metal clamps and straps. Sarren smiled at me over the edge of the weapon, holding my gaze, then brought it slashing down toward the railing. The rope snapped, and the kids screamed as the net plummeted into the foaming water like a stone and sank from view.

“No!” Zeke gave a strangled, desperate cry and glanced back at me. His face was tortured, eyes bright with anguish. He knew we had to stop Sarren. He knew that if Requiem hit land, everything would be over. But he was still Zeke. The Zeke who protected his own, who refused to leave anyone behind, who loved his people fiercely and would give his life to keep them safe. If Caleb and Bethany died, even if we saved the world, Zeke would never forgive himself.

“Go,” I told him, and he spun, leaped the rails, and dove into the frigid water without hesitation. Surfacing, he struck out for the place where the net had sunk below the surface, fighting waves and current and the foaming wake of the barge. I watched him, the boat carrying us swiftly away, until a wave broke over the lean, bright form cutting through the water, and Zeke was lost from sight.

I swallowed the sudden terror that I’d never see him again and turned back to the barge. Jackal pushed the boat faster, and we closed the distance, the waves bouncing us so hard I felt the deck rattle when we came down.

“Get around it,” Kanin told Jackal, who nodded grimly and spun the wheel. The boat angled off and began following the sides of the great ship. “The pilothouse is at the front. We need to steer this thing away from land.”

A scream interrupted him. I looked up just in time to see a rabid fling itself from the top of the barge and land on deck. It gave a shriek and lunged toward Jackal, but Kanin intercepted it, driving his blade deep into the side of its neck and ripping it out the front. The rabid’s head toppled backward, and Kanin kicked the monster over the railings, into the lake.

“Shit!” Jackal yanked the wheel, and the boat veered away from the side. Chilled, I looked up the barge to see a huge horde of rabids swarming the platform, shrieking and hissing and tearing at themselves. They weren’t locked away in a hold or in cages; they were loose on the deck. And already infected.

We passed the open platform, the rabids screaming and hissing at us from the edge, and drew alongside the front of the barge. Waves tossed the boat, the foaming wake of the huge ship plowing through the water, but Jackal maneuvered us until we were just a few feet from the wall. A set of rusty metal rungs were welded to the side, leading to the top of the deck Kanin turned to me.

“Let’s go.”

He leaped from the edge onto the ladder, shimmied up the side, and vanished over the rails. I followed, flinging myself over the water, grabbing the rungs as I came down.

Turning, I searched for Jackal, expecting to see him right behind me. He still stood at the helm, his lean body hunched over the wheel, almost leaning against it. I swallowed hard. In all the time I’d known him, he had never shown signs of pain or weakness, until now.

“Jackal!” My voice carried weakly over the waves. My brother didn’t move, and my fear increased. Sarren was on the other side of the barge, and there was a horde of screaming, infected rabids between us, but I knew he’d show up soon enough. “Come on! Jump! Before Sarren gets here.”

Jackal raised his head, eyes gleaming, gave me a strained smile. Black veins crawled up his throat and jaw, and the skin on one cheek was beginning to darken.

“Yeah, about that.” His voice made my stomach sink. It was tense, tight with agony, but resolved. Like he had just come to a conclusion, and knew we weren’t going to like what came next. “Sorry, sister. But you’re going to have to fight this one without me.”

“You can’t be serious! You’re going to leave
now?
” I gaped at him, not knowing whether to be stunned, furious or terrified I would never see him again, because he’d be dead soon. “After everything we did to get here? When you know what Requiem will do once it hits land? You’re still going to bail?”

He smirked, and the boat veered away. “It’s what I’m best at,” he called without an inkling of remorse. I stared after him, disbelieving, and he grinned. “Don’t worry, sister, I’m sure you and the old man will be able to beat Sarren on your own. But I can’t fight Sarren like this, and I’ve survived this long by knowing when the odds aren’t in my favor. So I’m afraid I’m going to have to fold.”

“You can’t run from this, you idiot! You’re infected with Requiem! Where are you going to go?”

“Don’t worry, sister.” Jackal’s smirk was more of a grimace. “What do I keep telling you? I always come out on top. You just worry about beating Sarren. Kick him in the teeth a few times for me, would you? I’d appreciate it.”

“Jackal…” Desperate, I stared at him, wishing I knew what to say to stop this. “You won’t survive. If we lose, if Sarren wins, everyone will die.”

Jackal gave me a wry, humorless smile. “Then I’ll see you both in hell,” he called, and sped off, pulling ahead of the barge and vanishing into the black. Numb, I stared after the boat until it was lost to the waves, as Jackal disappeared into the unknown once more, then I scurried up the ladder.

Kanin waited for me on top, saying nothing as I climbed over the railing to join him at the edge of the barge. We stood on the front deck, the wind whipping at our clothes as the huge vessel sliced unerringly through the water. Several yards away, the pilothouse rose into the air, and beyond that, the deck dropped away to the huge floating platform that made up the rest of the barge. Long metal containers were scattered across the platform, creating a labyrinth of aisles and corridors, and also a walkway the rabids couldn’t reach from below. Of course, one wrong move or slip meant you would fall to a grisly death. A pair of containers had been stacked together and shoved against the wall closest to the pilothouse, preventing the monsters from climbing onto the front deck. Sarren was nowhere in sight.

“Jackal…” I began, not knowing what to say.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kanin said, moving swiftly toward the pilothouse. “He made his choice, and it is up to us now. If we can reach the controls and turn this ship around, there will be time to deal with the rabids and Sarren. But we must stop Requiem from making landfall. If the rabids escape to the mainland, it will be over.”

“Oh, Kanin,” purred a familiar, instantly terrifying voice, from somewhere overhead. I looked up, and there was Sarren, standing atop the pilothouse, his bladed arm glinting in the moonlight, a steel ice ax in his remaining hand. His smile was viciously inhuman. “Did you really think it would be that easy?”

Leaping down, the tall, bony vampire swung at me with savage force, and I barely brought my katana up in time to block. The curved, pointed head of the ax struck the blade and sent me reeling back a few steps, and Sarren instantly whirled to deflect Kanin’s blow with his other arm. The weapons met with a raspy screech, and I leaped back into the fray, snarling my hate for the insane vampire. As his blade sliced at me, I ducked and slashed up with my katana, aiming for his throat. He smoothly moved his head back just enough to avoid it, blocked Kanin’s stab with his arm, and hammered me in the gut with the blunt end of the ax. Something inside me snapped, and pain exploded through my middle, nearly dropping me to my knees. As I staggered, Sarren swung his blade arm at my head, aiming for my neck, and for a split second, I thought I had lost. That he’d behead me and I would die the final death.

Then Kanin ducked beneath Sarren’s ax, lunged and slammed into him, knocking him back. The very point of the blade slashed my throat, drawing blood, but leaving my head firmly on my neck. Sarren gave an annoyed hiss and dropped a bony elbow into Kanin’s spine, then swung the ax up into his jaw as he staggered. Kanin reeled away, blood pouring from his mouth and chin, and I caught him before he could fall.

“Kanin!”

“I’m fine.” The vampire spat blood, then glanced at Sarren, who waited for us calmly, a pleased smile on his scarred face. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to engage us. “That was very close, Allison,” Kanin murmured, giving me a look that was both anxious and stern. “I taught you better than that. Calm your rage—don’t let Sarren bait you into attacking blindly. Remember how important this is.”

I nodded. I had been careless and was certainly paying for it now. My ribs throbbed, and every movement sent a jagged shard of pain through my middle, making me grit my teeth. Something was definitely broken inside, maybe multiple somethings. I was healing, albeit slowly, but we had a long fight ahead of us. And not much time to finish it.

Unlike Sarren, who had all the time in the world.

“Can you hear it?” Sarren whispered, his eyes shining with glee and madness as we approached again, cautiously this time. He raised his bladed arm to the front of the boat, a look of ecstasy crossing his face. “The song, the requiem—it calls to us all. The end draws ever closer, one final note, to sing this world to sleep.” His gaze shifted to me, and he smiled. “You cannot stop it, little bird. You can only beat your wings against the bars of your cage, and you don’t even realize you are trapped. You do not see the sickness, the corruption, all around you, twisting everything it touches. Requiem will set you free. It will set us all free.”

“Death isn’t the answer,” I growled, gritting my teeth through the pain in my ribs. “Destroying everything, letting the world start over, isn’t the answer. You’re just giving up. But there are still things worth fighting for, things worth
living
for.”

Sarren gave me a look of genuine pity. “No, little bird,” he said, shaking his head. “You are still an infant demon, far too young to know the truth. Eternity is not a gift. It is a curse. The longer you live, the bleaker and darker the world becomes, until you are stumbling around, blind, in the shadows. Kanin knows, don’t you, old friend?” He looked at my sire, smiling faintly. “You long for oblivion, for an end to your eternal wandering. But you’re afraid of what comes after, that the evil staining your soul will send it to damnation. And so, you continue to live, to exist, in the hell you created, hoping to atone for what you have done.” Sarren chuckled, and it sent a chill up my spine. “But there is no redemption for us, old friend,” he whispered. “Nothing can wipe away what we have caused, the centuries of blood and death. How can we cleanse our souls, when the very world around us pulses with rot and filth and decay?” Sarren’s lip curled in a snarl of disgust. “No, it is time to end it. It is time to wipe the sickness clean, once and for all. And you, little bird, will not stop it!”

He lunged, coming in fast, swinging his blade at my face. I hadn’t forgotten how quick the insane vampire really was, but knowing how fast Sarren could move did me no good here. Even though I was expecting it, I barely managed to leap back, desperately swinging my katana to keep him at bay. At the same instant, Kanin stepped in with his knife, cutting at his throat. But Sarren blocked my swing, dodged Kanin’s weapon, and lashed out with a kick, striking me in the chest. As I was hurled away, I saw Sarren spin toward the other vampire, whirling his ax in a vicious arc toward his neck. This time, Kanin ducked beneath his arm, stepped in, and plunged his blade into Sarren’s stomach, ripping it out the other side.