The Vigilantes (The Superiors) (29 page)

“Yes,” the boy said, with a smile like the almost-forgotten pleasure of sunshine on a balmy afternoon. His teeth were flat like a human’s—no drawing teeth. “And you are my first visitors in a very long time.”

What was he? A ghost? Byron glanced at Caleb. The guy must love this.

“Who are you? What are you doing out here?” Byron asked.

“Angel Sinclair,” the boy said, holding out his hand. A fitting name for such a beautiful creature. The boy wasn’t inappropriately young to have evolved, like Meyer Kidd, but a young man in his late teen years. He had a glow about him, almost unearthly, that made his skin radiate with health. The light that emanated from him was warm and sunny, not the white glow associated with ghost myths. Angel Sinclair had appeared as if a beautiful vision of daylight had come into the night to remind them of the beauty they were missing.

Byron shook Angel’s hand and tried to break the spell the boy had on him. The strangeness of him fascinated Byron the same way Meyer did, the way any new thing did, just when he’d thought he could no longer be surprised by anything.

Caleb shook hands with Angel, and they stood studying each other. “You were not expecting to find me here,” Angel said. He had no trace of an accent of any kind.

“We were just exploring a bit when we caught your scent,” Caleb said.

“I see.” Angel gave them another brilliant smile. “You are most welcome. I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer you by way of refreshment, but you are welcome to come inside, if you like. My home is but humble, as you can see, but I’m loathe to leave you standing outside.”

Caleb started to step forward, but Byron put a hand on the man’s arm to stop him. Angel watched this little proceeding with curiosity.

“I’m afraid we don’t have much time before we need to head back,” Byron said, as much to Caleb as to Angel. If this boy, however beautiful, had killed a man, Byron didn’t want to go into his house, especially since they had no witnesses to their journey. They would be added to the list of mysterious disappearances and never heard from again. Who was this, Meyer Kidd’s army of child soldiers, first lieutenant?

“Actually,” Byron said, plunging ahead. “We were out here looking for some information regarding the whereabouts of a missing person. You wouldn’t happen to have heard anything, would you?”

Angel’s eyes widened and his hand went to his heart. “That’s so sad,” he said, shaking his head. “When did he die?”

Byron and Caleb exchanged glances. “We haven’t confirmed death,” Byron said.

“I’m sorry, I just assumed.”

“Would you mind coming back to the car with us for a moment? Just to check your records, you understand.”

“Why would you do that?”

“It’s unusual to find a Superior living alone. If you don’t mind my saying so, it raises a bit of suspicion. We just want to make sure you’re not someone we should be interested in.”

Angel laughed, a sound like music. “I’m sure I’m not of any interest to you,” he said. “But I’d be obliged to ease your mind. Your vehicle is nearby?”

“Right down the road. Step this way, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Angel said, following Caleb and then falling into step beside Byron. Byron noticed that he even walked strangely, like his feet never touched the ground but rather glided over it.

“We’ll just check your papers and you can be on your way,” Byron assured Angel.

“You are police,” Angel said.

Byron didn’t let his surprise show at the outdated term. “Yes, of sorts,” he said. “I don’t mean to be rude, Angel, but I feel like I’ve known you forever. Forgive my familiarity, but if you don’t mind my asking, what do you eat out here?”

Angel laughed, the same melodious sound as before, one that filled Byron with a sense of relaxation almost against his will, similar to the state of inebriation he entered after drinking too much wine. “The same as you do, of course,” Angel said.

“You own a human?” Byron asked, though he knew the answer already. He would have smelled a human.

“Sadly, no longer. I do so need a new one. My last one…weakened and died. I’m sure I’ll find a new one to my liking soon.”

“Do you have papers?” Byron asked when they got to the car.

“I did, once,” Angel said, and his face looked so sad Byron thought he might cry. “But they were lost, and I move around so much…I haven’t reapplied. I’ve been meaning to get new ones, I just don’t much like crowds.” He looked a little scared, and Byron had the absurd urge to hug the boy. He seemed very lonely and childlike, much more so than Meyer, who must have been five or six years younger at evolution.

“I see. Well, we can scan you and find your identity that way. You don’t mind?”

“Do I have to enter your vehicle?” Angel asked. He seemed to shrink with every passing second, growing smaller inside until even his body looked smaller.

“You don’t want to?”

“Small spaces scare me,” the boy said in a tiny voice.

“You never ride in cars?”

“Not in such a long time. I am a loner, yes, because I don’t fit into your society.”

“I can see that. Don’t be scared, Angel. We’re not going to hurt you. I can take the scanner out, see, it just takes a minute.”

Byron got in the car, unscrewed the scanning device and brought it out. Angel stood very still, but his body shook with small tremors as Byron scanned his eyes and hands and tongue. The boy cooperated, all the while looking at Byron in a way very much like a small child frightened by the punishment he knows is coming.

“No match,” the screen flashed. Byron looked again to make sure. That had never happened. He looked at the boy again and then at the scanner. Angel really wasn’t a Superior, was he? Byron had assumed he had to be. But all Superiors would be in the system.

Right?

Caleb stood on the other side of the car, looking at Byron with no expression. “Enforcer?” he asked. “Everything alright?”

“Yes, of course,” Byron said. “My scanner isn’t working. Let me just put in your information manually.” He slid back into the car.

“I don’t like small spaces,” the boy said.

Byron switched on the screen of his display panel and punched in
Angel Sinclair
under NAME.

“No match,” the screen flashed. Byron glanced out the door to where Angel had stood, but the boy was gone. Byron jumped out of the car and stood listening, scenting. Then he sprang after the boy and Caleb.

Caleb had seen the boy run, so he was in front of Byron, already in pursuit. Angel was fast, though, and he knew his way around the ghost town. Within moments they lost sight of him. The road and sidewalks lay buried under piles of rubble, loose bricks, and chunks of concrete and stone. The bare sections of concrete buckled upwards to expose roots, small plants and grasses. The pursuit proved difficult, and often Byron and Caleb slipped and had to scramble over sliding piles of rubble that Angel seemed to dance over or clear altogether in one graceful leap. They watched him disappear again and again into one building and another, reappearing now and then or just leaving new trails of scent wherever he went. After a while, the sky began to lighten, and Angel’s scent clung to everything, so finding the freshest trail became impossible with so many to choose from.

When the sky turned a deep clear blue, Byron and Caleb stopped. “I think we lost him,” Caleb said.

“For tonight,” Byron said. “But we’ll come back, with a team, and root him out.”

“I know you want to leave, Enforcer,” Caleb said. “But do you mind if I look inside his house for a minute first? I thought I caught the smell of something rank.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Caleb. It was probably just the sap he said died there. It’s almost daylight, and the light bothers me very much. It will be hard driving back even now.”

“I’ll drive. I have to see. I have a very sharp sense of smell.”

Byron had to admit Caleb was right about that. No matter how he disliked the man, and even if he’d let Angel get away by not pursuing quickly enough, he did have one advantage over Byron. If Caleb hadn’t been there, Byron never would have caught Angel’s scent in the first place. So if Caleb thought he’d smelled something, he probably had.

Caleb had already started back in the direction of Angel’s house. Byron closed the door of his car and locked it this time before following Caleb. Angel may have just gotten scared, knowing Byron would take him away in the car once he couldn’t find his information. Or maybe he’d just made up the part about claustrophobia as an excuse to run, and he’d take off with the car as soon as Byron turned his back. Driving back in daylight might be awful, but walking back would be impossible.

Byron hurried to catch up with Caleb and arrived at Angel’s lair at the same time. Caleb stood scenting, his eyes closed. Byron scanned the area, wondering where Angel had disappeared to. He kept all his senses on high alert while Caleb focused on one.

“I’m going in,” Caleb said.

“We should come back at night,” Byron said, but Caleb had already started over the heap of debris in front of the door.

“No, he might move things by the time we come back. Something’s not right. I think he’s the one responsible for the disappearances. We can’t risk losing evidence.”

“We already lost him.”

“He’ll turn up eventually. No one can hide forever.”

“Did you notice his teeth?” Byron asked, looking around the floor of Angel’s house. The empty room, bare and unwelcoming, stared back at the intruders. The boy might be beautiful, but his house was not. Weathered boards covered the windows, keeping light from entering the murky, grimy room. Shredded linoleum peeled from the floor in strips. A crumbling staircase led to the upper level.

“Yes, they were very bizarre,” Caleb said. “
He
was very bizarre.”

“I’m going upstairs,” Byron said, picking his way over the small piles of dusty debris. A few steps had less dust and remained intact; most sagged or had been replaced by gaping absence.

The upstairs looked only slightly more hospitable. Crumbling furniture sagged in corners, although most looked like it had long ago given up hope of ever being used. On a table near the back corner lay a clean white sheet, rising like a snow-capped mountain out of the grime in the room. Everything else looked old and neglected.

Byron approached the table slowly and took the edge of the sheet in his hand. The room smelled of Angel, and the table even more strongly. But not strongly enough to be Angel. Byron glanced around again to make sure he was alone. In one swift movement, he swept the sheet from the table. Seeing what lay beneath, he threw the sheet on the floor in disgust. Nothing but stacks of neatly folded clothes lay hidden by the sheet. He’d expected something exciting, fascinating, or at least helpful.

“Byron!” Caleb’s voice drifted up the stairs. “Come down, now.”

Byron moved quickly upon hearing the urgency in his partner’s voice. He leapt down the stairs so he wouldn’t risk taking a misstep and falling through them. He didn’t fall as gracefully and weightlessly as Angel, but he managed to land on his feet and stay there.

Caleb crouched in the corner of the downstairs room, holding open a hatch in the floor. A putrid smell wafted up—the stench of death. “I’m going down,” Caleb said, starting into the hole. A set of steps led down into the darkness below.

Byron shut off his breathing, wishing he’d done it before his nose filled with the stench. Now he’d have to keep smelling it until they went outside and he could take another breath of clean air. He could tell by Caleb’s nasally voice that he’d already shut off his breathing, too.

“I think I should stay up here,” Byron said. “Keep a lookout. No use in us both going down there.”

“Good idea, Enforcer,” Caleb said, his voice echoing from below. Byron stood at the top of the stairs looking down into the hole. His eyes were very old and he could see well in the dark, but when surrounded by the bright dawn light, he could no longer make out anything in the darkness below.

“I hope you like small spaces,” Angel’s soft voice said behind him.

Byron whirled, his hand already drawing his weapon. Angel’s feet hit Byron’s chest with the force of a cannon ball. Byron had never imagined a person could possess such strength. He went tumbling down the stairs before he could withdraw his weapon. Sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, his head spinning with the blow it had sustained on the way down, he wondered what the hell Angel had eaten to gain that much strength. A few dozen entire sapiens?

“I loved them all…” Angel’s voice drifted down. Even through the desperate chaos of his thoughts, Byron instinctively felt sorry for the boy before he could stop himself. The sadness in Angel’s voice was bottomless. His face appeared in the small opening at the top of the steps. “You can thank me later for giving you such a dark place to sleep,” he said, and Byron could hear the musical laughter echoing in his head long after the boy had slammed the door and sealed them in.

Chapter 43

Cali
got up at dawn and put on her only outfit—a woolen jumpsuit. Though it was too hot to wear during the summer, she didn’t have anything cooler. She had a pair of scuffed rubber-soled slippers from winter, and she put these on as well. Then she went out to the garden to wait.

She sat quietly until the door to the garden opened. The noise startled her, and she jumped to her feet and spun around. She remembered suddenly that Master hadn’t come to feed yet, as he usually did before daylight. But Master hadn’t come out, just Shelly. He stood in the doorway rubbing his eyes.

“You sure you gonna do this?” he asked.

Cali
nodded. “I’m sure. Don’t tell Master for as long as you can.”

“Don’t worry, I’m a good liar,” Shelly said, sitting down next to Cali on the end of one of the garden beds. He slid an arm around her back. “I’ma miss you, girl.”

“I’ll miss you, too. I wish I could let you know when I make it.”

“Or if you don’t.”

“Don’t say that. It’s bad luck.”

“I wish you’d stay with me.”

“I wish you’d come with me.”

They sat together in the morning light that filled the garden until Cali heard movement below. When she hugged Shelly, he wouldn’t let her go until she pried his arms loose.

“You sure you won’t come?” she asked.

“I’m sure. I hope you make it, girl. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” After hugging Shelly one more time, Cali went to the bars and looked out.

Below her, a man hung by a rope, climbing up to Martin and Terry’s garden. As soon as she saw him, Cali’s heart beat faster. She held onto the bars and pressed her face between them, pushing so hard her cheeks ached against the hard metal. She couldn’t get her head through, though, and she couldn’t see the man as well as she wanted.

After a few seconds, she pulled back and turned to Shelly. “Come see,” she whispered, gesturing frantically.

He shook his head. “The less I know, the better. Good luck, Cali-girl.” Shelly went inside, closing the door behind him. Cali turned back to watch, distracted and sad and excited all at once. She wanted Shelly by her side, and she felt crazy for risking this again. When Shelly closed the door, a pain flared inside like he’d pulled something out of her, but she knew he wanted to stay separate to save them both.

She tried not to think about him and focused on the man below, who had climbed on top of Martin’s garden and was using a metal tool to do something to the bars. Cali looked at the top of her own garden, at the black metal bars that covered the enclosure on all sides. Could he really show her way out?

When she looked again, the man was lifting Terry through an opening on top of the garden below. Cali watched the woman descend the rope, and then Martin descended, awkwardly making his way after his wife while cradling a bundle in one arm. Cali thought her heart might explode when the stranger with the rope looked up at her. He had eyes so blue she could see them from the next floor up.

“Can you tie a good knot?” he asked in a loud whisper.

Cali nodded, and then jumped back as a rock shot through the bars with a rope tied to it. She left the rock attached and tied the rope in several knots around the bars before she looked over the edge. The man jerked the rope hard, never losing his balance on the bars of the other garden. Then he started up. He climbed faster than the others, and she watched his muscles bulging as he came. He looked very strong. Grasping two bars of her enclosure, he scrambled to get a foot hold. It took him several tries before he got good purchase and stood, breathing hard, holding onto the bars.

“Ready for the fun part?” he asked, smiling at her. He was older than her by maybe ten years and had dark blonde hair, shaggy and wet with sweat. He was good looking but not too awfully handsome.

Cali nodded. “I’m ready.”

“Good,” he said, still breathing hard. “You weak as you look?”

“I’m not weak,” she said, trying not to get offended.

“Then let me step up on your shoulders and this will go a lot faster.”

Cali hesitated, then knelt for the man to put his foot on her shoulder. She stood with some difficulty, but the man held onto the bars and pulled himself up at the same time, so she didn’t have all his weight. After a few seconds, the man lifted his feet from her shoulders and pulled himself along the top of her garden. He squatted at one end and started with his tools.

“What is that?” Cali asked. She thought she might explode from nerves. What if Master came in right now? What if he came late to get his usual blood before he slept?
Hurry hurry hurry
, she prayed.

“It’s called a wrench, and it gets you outta here,” the man said, and leaned down to the tool. His face got red with strain and he grunted a few times, his huge muscles flexing. Then he sat up with a grin and started turning the tool quickly. He repeated the process at the other end, moving on hands and feet along the rails. Then he moved the rail aside and smiled down at Cali. “Ready?”