The Immortal Rules (35 page)

I didn’t, but listening to the raider king speak, I felt a glimmer of recognition. Like I should know him from…somewhere, though I didn’t know why I felt that way. I was positive I’d never seen him before.

“Anyway,” Jackal continued, “I wanted to let everyone know that a few nights ago, our search finally came to an end. We have found what we’ve been looking for all this time.”

Zeke stiffened beside me. Behind Jackal, a pair of raiders pushed aside the curtain and shoved someone onto the stage. Jackal spun with shocking grace, grabbed the figure by the collar and dragged him forward, into the light.

Jebbadiah. His wrists were bound, and dark bruises covered his face and eyes, but he stood tall and proud next to the raider king, glaring at the mob with icy contempt. I put a warning hand on Zeke’s arm, in case he forgot where he was. With a few hundred raiders and only two of us, now was not the time for a suicide rescue.

The crowd booed and jeered as Jeb regarded them coldly, but Jackal smiled and threw an arm around his shoulders, patting his chest.

“Now, now,” he chided. “Be polite, all of you. You’ll make him think we don’t want him here.” Jackal grinned, looking entirely animalistic. “After all, this is the man who holds the key to your immortality. This is the man who will be responsible for our rise to glory. This is the man who is going to cure Rabidism for us!”

The crowd erupted into chaos, but I still heard Zeke draw in a sharp breath. Stunned, I turned to him, seeing him pale, as if he already knew. And suddenly, everything made a lot more sense.

“That’s why he’s been after you,” I hissed, leaning close to be heard over the howling mob. “He thinks Jeb can cure the virus, that’s why he’s hunted you for so long.
Anyone
would want that.” Zeke looked away, but I grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “
Does
Jeb have the cure? Is that what you’ve been hiding, this whole time?”

“No,” Zeke rasped, finally turning to face me. “No, he doesn’t have the cure. There
is
no cure. But—”

I held up my hand, silencing him. The mob had finally quieted down. Jackal waited until the last few revelers had stopped, then turned to pat Jeb on the shoulder. “Unfortunately,” he went on in a sorrowful voice, “our good friend here is somewhat reluctant to share what he knows! Can you believe it? I have a lovely lab all set up, waiting for him for
three years,
with everything he needs or could possibly want, and he doesn’t seem to appreciate it.”

A chorus of loud boos and insults. Jackal held up a hand again.

“I know, I know. But we can’t force him to work, can we? I mean, it’s not like I can break his fingers or bash his head in to get him to do what I want, right?” He laughed good-naturedly, and it sent a chill down my spine. “Which is why we’re here tonight,” he went on. “I’ve set up a bit of entertainment for our guest of honor, but I hope the rest of you enjoy it, too. Hopefully, it won’t be over
too
quickly, but we do have a whole troop of new faces we can toss in if things get dull.” He turned and stared directly at Jeb as he said this, lips pulled into a demonic smile, before turning back to the crowd. “So, I guess I don’t have anything else to say except—on with the show!”

He exited the stage to a cacophony of cheers and howls, pulling Jebbadiah out with him. Zeke reached down and took my hand, squeezing tightly, as if to anchor himself for what was to come.

The curtains parted, and two more raiders marched out with another figure between them, his head covered with a dark bag. Opening the cage, they jerked the bag off, shoved him inside the cage, and slammed the door.

“Darren,” Zeke moaned, starting forward. I tightened my grip on his hand and grabbed his arm, holding him back.

“Zeke, don’t.” He gave me a desperate look, but I held firm. “Go out there and you’ll just get yourself caught or killed,” I said, meeting his tortured gaze. “There’s nothing we can do for him now.”

A chilling screech drew my attention back to the ring. Darren, standing fearfully in the center of the cage, glanced at the kennel on the far wall. A rope that I hadn’t noticed earlier had been tied to the door, drawn through the cage bars, and was now in the hands of a raider, bracing himself to yank on it. And I suddenly knew, with terrible certainty, what was in that kennel.

For a split second, the whole room was silent, voices fading away as the onlookers held their breath. Darren, alone in the arena, looked around desperately for an escape route, but there was nothing, nowhere he could run. Zeke was rigid; I could feel him shaking beneath my hands, unable to look away. For just a moment, Darren looked up, and their gazes met…

Then the hollow clang of the kennel door opening echoed in the silence, and Darren didn’t even have time to turn before the rabid slammed into him, pulling him down with a screech.

The crowd roared and surged to their feet, and for a moment Darren was lost in the swell, though his screams could be heard even over the crowd. Zeke let out a breathless sob and turned away, wrenching himself from my grip, but I forced myself to watch, searing the images into my brain. It was the least I could do for Darren, to remember his last moments and to remind myself of what I could become. Not a rabid but something worse; something ruthless and savage and power-hungry, a true monster, like the raider king. Jackal had abandoned his humanity long ago, but I would not forget. I would remember this moment, and Darren’s life would not go to waste.

Thankfully, it was over very quickly. Darren’s limbs hadn’t even stopped twitching when Jackal sauntered up to a bench and stood on it, raising his arms to the cheers of the crowd. Jeb stood behind him, his face white, shaking with grief and fury. “How’s that for entertainment?” Jackal called, and the mob roared approval. I found myself hating all of them, wishing I could fly down and start ripping their jeering mouths off their faces. “And, good news—there’s plenty more where that came from!” He whirled on Jeb, eyes gleaming. “So, what’dya say, old man? I think the next one in the cage should be that pretty girl. Or maybe one of the kids? It really makes no difference to me. Or…did you have something else in mind?”

I couldn’t hear Jebbadiah, over the crowd, but I saw his lips move as he stared at Jackal, fear and hatred lining every part of his body. “I have no choice,” I thought he said, and Jackal nodded, smiling. “I will do as you ask.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Jackal motioned to one of his raiders, and they took Jeb away. Turning back toward the crowd, the vampire grinned, showing a pair of extremely long, deadly fangs. “Minions, I promised you immortality, and I’m going to deliver! Now, the only thing left to choose is who I’ll Turn first once we find the cure. Who is going to have that prestigious honor? Hmm.” He snapped his fingers. “Maybe we’ll just hold a huge free-for-all, and whoever comes out alive gets to be immortal, what’dya say?”

The crowd roared again, beating the seats, pumping fists and weapons into the air, screaming his name. Jackal raised his arms again, accepting the applause, the adoration, while behind him, Darren’s blood pooled over the side of the cage and dripped into the water.

Zeke made a strangled noise and walked away, staggering toward the doors as if he was drunk. No one noticed him; their attention was riveted on Jackal and the show he’d put on in the center. But as I drew back, preparing to hurry after Zeke, Jackal raised gleaming yellow eyes over the crowd and caught my stare. He blinked as our eyes met, a puzzled expression crossing his face, and then I was out the door, following Zeke into the dark corridor.

Chapter 21

“Zeke!”

I caught him and yanked him around a corner just as a pair of rough-looking men came down the hall, laughing and swearing at each other. The raiders continued into the main room, where the echo of the crowd could still be heard through the open doors. I wondered what Jackal was doing and hoped he didn’t have any more “entertainment” planned for the night.

Zeke was leaning with his back against the wall, but, as I approached, he slid down until he was sitting in the corner, gazing straight ahead at nothing. For a few heartbeats, he stayed like that, his expression glazed and dead. Then a shudder racked his frame, and he slowly hunched over, bending his head to his knees, as he sobbed quietly into his hands.

I watched him silently, my own throat suspiciously tight. I wished I knew what to say, the right words to comfort him, but sympathy was never my strong suit, and besides, anything I said would probably end up sounding forced. Especially after the horrible scene we’d just witnessed.

Guessing he wanted a moment alone, I drew back and left him at the back of the hall, letting him mourn the death of his friend. Truthfully, I needed a few minutes by myself, as well.

My eyes stung, and I let a bloody tear slide down my cheek before swiping it away. First Dorothy and now Darren. Darren, who had joked around with me, who had stood up for me, even to Zeke. Who had been a good hunter, a companion, maybe even a friend. I would miss his company, I realized. He hadn’t deserved that death, to come so far only to be torn apart by a rabid in the end. I clenched my fists, feeling the nails bite into my palms. Jackal would pay for this. He would pay for everything.

I turned and walked back to Zeke, trying to formulate some kind of plan, hoping he was clearheaded enough to help me out. He was still sitting in the corner, staring at the wall, but his face and eyes were clear.

I crouched beside him. “You okay?” Not the most brilliant or comforting question ever, but there was nothing else I could think of.

He shook his head. “We have to find the rest of them,” he whispered, struggling to his feet. Leaning against the wall again, he took a deep breath and looked at me, his voice growing stronger. “Where do you think Jackal is keeping everyone?”

“I have no idea,” I muttered. “But I’m guessing it’s nearby. With everything underwater, it’s probably not easy to transport prisoners back and forth. He’ll want to keep them close.”

“We should search the building,” Zeke said, nodding, “once everyone has cleared out—”

A cheer from the open doors to the main hall drew our attention. Either Jackal was on a roll, or someone else was being torn apart. I shuddered and hoped it wasn’t the latter.

Zeke and I glanced at each other, thinking the same thing. There was no time. For every minute we waited, another person could die, shoved into a cage and ripped apart for the crowd’s entertainment. Jackal was ruthless, and I had no doubt he would sacrifice Caleb or even Bethany to get what he wanted. We had to find our people now.

“Backstage,” Zeke whispered, his eyes hard. “They brought Jeb and Darren out through the curtain. Maybe they’re keeping the others back there, as well.”

I nodded. “Makes sense. It’s a good place to start looking anyway.”

But there were two hundred raiders and thirty feet of water between us and the stage, not to mention Jackal himself. I had no clue how powerful the raider king was and no desire to find out. “There has to be a back door,” I muttered. “A way to get in from behind.”

“There are plenty of windows,” Zeke pointed out.

“Yeah,” I said, turning away. “I hope you’re up for a swim.”

* * *

I
N
THE
SHADOWS
of the outside wall, we made our way through the black, grimy water, easing around the side of the building. I wasn’t the best swimmer, not like Zeke, but there were plenty of handholds as we clung to the side of the wall. And of course, I didn’t have to worry about drowning. Every so often, my leg would brush something beneath the surface of the water, a branch or a pole or the roof of a car, making me wonder what else was down there. Hopefully nothing alive. Or, if it was alive, hopefully nothing that wanted to eat us. I imagined huge rabid fish, gliding silently through the black waters, circling our legs, and decided not to voice that worry to Zeke.

“There,” I said, pointing to a rusty metal staircase against the wall. Twisted and bent, it zigzagged up the outside wall to a platform on the top floor. Maneuvering around rubble, pipes and rusty beams, I made my way through the murky black water until I could grab the lowest rung. Heaving myself up, I turned to help Zeke, grabbing his arm as he pulled himself onto the first step. He was shivering, teeth clacking together, and I was reminded that he was only human. The water here was colder than the river had been, far colder. It didn’t bother me, but Zeke was in danger of freezing to death if we weren’t careful.

“You all right?” I asked as he crossed his arms, shivering in the wind. His pale hair lay plastered to his forehead, and his shirt clung to his chest, emphasizing his leanness. His face was tight. “Do you need to wait here? I can go on alone, if you want.”

“I’m fine,” he gritted out, clenching his jaw. “Let’s keep moving.”

The metal staircase creaked horribly as we made our way up the steps, and I could feel it swaying under our weight. But it held until we reached the top platform and crawled in through the broken window.

“I can’t see a thing,” muttered Zeke, pressing close to my back.

I could. The room here had the same crumbling, gutted feel of most other city buildings; cracked ceiling, peeling walls, floor strewn with rubble and trash. Looking closer, I had to fight the urge to hiss. Blank-eyed humans stared at me from the shadows of the room, some draped in rotted costumes, arms and legs missing or lying scattered on the floor. It took me a moment to realize they weren’t real. Just plastic figures made to resemble humans.

Zeke gave a start, one hand dropping to his gun. He’d seen the creepy plastic figures, too, and in the dark, with normal human vision, it might freak anyone out.

“Relax,” I told him. “They’re not real. They’re statues or something.”

Zeke shuddered and took his hand away. “I’ve seen a lot of weird things,” he muttered, shaking his head, “but I think this takes the prize. Let’s get out of here before I start seeing them in my dreams…or before they start moving.”

I glimpsed a dismembered arm on the floor, and a remark about needing a hand sprang to mind, but this wasn’t the time for jokes. We carefully picked our way across the room and opened the door into another dark, narrow hallway.

The door creaked shut behind us, plunging the corridor into darkness thicker than ink. In complete blackness, the world looked shadowy gray to my vampire sight. But at least I could still see. Zeke was edging forward with one hand outstretched, the other on the wall beside him.

“Here,” I said quietly, and took his hand. He stiffened, muscles coiled to pull back, but then relaxed with a tight nod. “Just follow my lead,” I told him, ignoring the pulse at his wrist, the beat of life through his veins. “I won’t let you fall.”

We crept through the lightless hallway, passing rooms filled with dusty boxes, racks of rotting clothes and furniture covered in plastic sheets. It was obvious the raiders didn’t use this part of the building; the dirt and plaster dust lining these hallways hadn’t been disturbed in years—except for the countless rats and mice that went scurrying away, vanishing into the walls and floor. At one point, I stepped in something soft, like mud, and looked up to see the ceiling crawling with what looked like hundreds of winged mice. I didn’t mention this to Zeke as we hurried forward, though for some bizarre reason I felt a strange kinship with the tiny grotesque creatures.

The back of the building was like a maze, with endless rooms, hallways and scattered rubble. Some of the walls had fallen in, and sometimes we had to pick our way over a section of ceiling or edge around a floor that had collapsed. Zeke kept a tight grip on my hand as we maneuvered the labyrinth, occasionally stumbling as his wounded leg gave out but for the most part keeping up with me.

As we stepped over a fallen girder, a splintering crack rang out like a gunshot, and a section of floor gave way beneath us. I grabbed wildly for the beam with one hand, keeping a tight grip on Zeke with the other, as we plummeted straight down. My fingers hit the rusty edge of the girder, latching on desperately, as the weight of Zeke’s body nearly tore my arm out of the socket.

For a moment, we dangled over empty blackness. I could hear Zeke’s panting, feel his pulse racing under my fingers. Overhead, the floorboards groaned threateningly, showering me with dust, but the girder itself didn’t move.

The weight on the end of my arm gave a strangled gasp, hand tightening around my wrist. My fingers digging into the girder slipped a fraction of an inch. “Zeke,” I gritted out, “there’s a beam right above us. If I pull you up, can you grab it?”

“I…can’t see anything,” Zeke replied, his voice tight with suppressed fear, “so you’ll have to be my eyes. Just tell me when I’m getting close.”

I half swung, half lifted him to the edge of the hole, feeling my shoulders scream in protest. “Now,” I muttered, and Zeke lashed out with his free arm, hitting the girder on his first try. The weight dragging me down vanished as Zeke grabbed the beam like a lifeline and hauled himself up.

I followed, crawling out of the hole and rolling onto my back next to Zeke, who had done the same. He was breathing hard, shaking with adrenaline, his heart crashing in his chest. I felt nothing. No pounding heartbeat, no gasping breaths, nothing. A near-death experience, and I didn’t feel a thing.

Wait, scratch that. I did feel something. Relief. I was relieved that Zeke was alive and still with me. And now that the excitement was fading somewhat, I felt a stirring of real fear in my stomach, not for me, but for what could’ve happened. I’d almost lost him. If I had let him fall, he would be dead.

Zeke stirred, shifting to his elbow, squinting into the darkness. “Allie?” His voice was hesitant, probing the black. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” I muttered and felt him relax. “Still here.”

He shifted to his knees, one hand reaching out tentatively. “Where are you?” he murmured, frowning. In the dark, I watched his face, seeing his gaze pass over me without seeing. “You’re so quiet—it’s like you’re not even here. You’re not even breathing hard.”

I sighed, deliberately, just to make some kind of noise. “That’s what happens when you’re dead,” I murmured and rolled to my knees to face him. “That whole breathing thing isn’t so important anymore.”

I reached for his hand, but he suddenly leaned in, and his fingers brushed my cheek. Warmth flooded my skin, and I froze, waiting for him to pull back.

He didn’t. The tips of his fingers lingered on my cheek for a moment. Then, very slowly, his hand slipped forward, the palm brushing my skin. Frozen, I stared at him, watching his face as his fingers moved from my cheek to my forehead to my chin, like a blind man tracing someone’s features to see them in his mind.

“What are you doing to me?” he whispered, as his hand moved down to my neck, tracing my collarbone. I couldn’t answer even if I wanted to. “You make me question everything I’ve learned, everything I know. Truths I’ve believed since I was a kid, gone.” He sighed, and I felt a shiver go through him, but he didn’t pull his hand back. “What’s wrong with me?” he groaned, low and anguished. “I shouldn’t be feeling any of this. Not for a…”

He trailed off, but the word hung between us, raw and painful. I could sense Zeke’s struggle with himself, perhaps trying to find the will to pull away, perhaps to do something that went against everything he’d been taught. I wanted, desperately, to lean forward, to respond to his touch, but I was afraid that if I moved, he would pull back and the moment would shatter. So I remained still, passive and unthreatening, letting him decide what he wanted. Silence stretched between us, but his hand, his gentle fingers, never left my skin.

“Say something,” he murmured at last, cupping my cheek like he couldn’t bear to pull back. “I can’t see you, so…I don’t know what you’re thinking. Talk to me.”

“And say what?” I whispered.

“I don’t know. Just…” Zeke bowed his head, his voice quietly desperate. “Just…tell me I’m not crazy,” he whispered. “That this…isn’t as insane as I think it is.”

His heartbeat stuttered, racing in my ears. The Hunger stirred curiously, always eager, but I could ignore it this time. I wasn’t thinking of his blood, rushing just below the skin. I wasn’t thinking of his heartbeat or his touch or the pulse at his throat. Right now, all I was thinking of was Zeke.

“I don’t know,” I told him softly as he shifted closer, radiating warmth even through his wet clothes. I knew I should pull away, but what was the point? I was tired of fighting. In this absolute darkness, with no one to see or judge, our secret seemed safe. “Maybe we’re both a little crazy.”

“I can live with that,” Zeke murmured and finally did what I’d been fearing and hoping and dreaming he’d do from the very start. His other hand reached up, framing my face, as he leaned in and kissed me.

His lips were warm and soft, and his scent was everywhere, surrounding me. I gripped his arms, kissing him back…and the Hunger rose up, as powerful as ever, yet different from before. I didn’t just want to bite him and drink his blood; I wanted to draw him in slowly, make him a part of me. And I wanted to share a part of myself with him, so that we became one.