Decision
Dez and Michael stayed with Levi, neither of them talking, while Jim and Cassandra combed the woods for Jemila. Dez couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to.
Will was alive. Or might be. How the hell could Levi have known that? Dez sat beside Levi’s lifeless body, his hands laced around his knees. He glanced at the dead kid and wondered, Why would he lie? Especially in his last moments? With his dying breath?
No way to know, but if Levi did have second sight or precognition or whatever the hell you called it, several things made sense. One, Levi’s uncharacteristic gloominess back at the farmhouse. If he’d known they were barreling toward disaster, or at least suspected it, his brooding was certainly warranted. But Will….
My God, if my son is alive – Dez didn’t know how that could be, but Levi had seemed sure of it – that meant….
Dez pushed to his feet, stood panting. If Will was alive, that meant Dez had been lied to. That meant Will’s stepfather, the asshole who’d taken Dez’s place, had either deceived Dez or made a mistake. And that mistake had led Dez to….
He dragged a hand through his hair. That false information had led him to remain in this part of Indiana, to not even venture east, to not even verify what he’d been told.
I didn’t know!
And you didn’t goddamn check either!
Dez swallowed, brought a palm to his lips. It wasn’t his fault. The world had been falling to pieces around him. How was he to know Will had survived?
Simple. He couldn’t. Yet somehow, if Levi were to be believed, Will had made it, might still be alive right now. Right. Now.
He had to go to east, to Winchester, Indiana. Had to see if it was true. Who was Will with? His mother was dead, or at least that’s what he’d been told. Unless that was bullshit too. Had they simply deceived Dez to make sure he didn’t disrupt whatever life they were trying to build? He wouldn’t put it past his ex-wife. Or that shitbag she married. Yes, he had to go to Winchester. But something deep in him kept tugging down on this thought, like a curious sunfish testing a bait.
Michael was watching him. On the ground beside Levi, crouching like a catcher, Michael stared at him, hardly blinking, and Dez looked back at him. Neither of them spoke. Neither had to. Dez half turned and gazed through the trees, and though his sense of direction had always been shit, he imagined he was facing east. Toward Winchester, toward Will. If Will was still alive.
If.
All at once he deflated, his shoulders sagging, his legs so weak he was sure his knees would buckle. He was aware of Michael’s scrutiny, Michael waiting for his decision. But before he decided whether to stay here or begin his journey to Will, he had to tend to Levi. With a wash of guilt, he sank down beside the boy and took his cold, lifeless hand. How quickly the warmth left the body. How swiftly the flesh became cool. The November chill did nothing to help.
Dez leaned over and put his head on Levi’s chest. It was sticky with blood, but Dez was so crusted with the stuff, what was a little more? Besides, the blood was a reminder that Levi had been alive only a few minutes ago, and Dez wanted to cling to this. He closed his eyes and thought of Levi as he’d been that night in the Four Winds Bar. Scared, eager. Desperate for a friend. Desperate to help. Levi had been a source of energy that night. Hell, every night thereafter. Only a couple days ago had his mood turned bleak, and that’s because…that’s because….
Had he foreseen his own death? The thought opened Dez’s eyes and made him lift his head from Levi’s chest. He met Michael’s gaze and asked, “You think he knew he’d die here? Like this?”
“It’s a distinct possibility,” Michael answered. “I know he was rattled, more skittish than I’d ever seen him.”
Dez looked at Levi’s face, its bluish cast hurting Dez’s heart. But there was something welling up in him, some thought….
“If he knew he was going to die…if he suspected….”
“He came here anyway,” Michael finished. “He knew and he still came along because he cared about us.”
Dez shook his head slowly. “If he knew what the future held, he would’ve known about Susan not wanting to leave.”
“Dammit, you heard the kid,” Michael snapped. “He didn’t see everything. He saw pieces. Scraps. He might not have known about Susan siding with that Quincey guy. But he sure as hell knew something. That’s why he tried to swerve us off this course.”
“But why did he—”
“He knew how important it was to us, and he was always putting others first.”
Dez fought off a sharp twinge of guilt.
“And he maybe also knew that something good would come out of our trip to the Fortress,” Michael added.
“Good? What the hell? Levi’s dead, Iris is gone—”
“Iris is there,” Michael said, jabbing a finger toward the school. “She’s still alive, so don’t act like it’s over.”
“She chose to stay.”
“Man, wouldn’t you?” Dez opened his mouth to answer, but Michael overrode him. “That little girl ain’t like the bald psychos in the storeroom.”
“One of those psychos saved my life,” Dez pointed out. Where, he wondered, had the vampire child gone? Would the child survive on its own out here without food or shelter?
“Whatever,” Michael snapped. “The point is, she’s basically a normal kid—”
“Who guzzles other people’s blood.”
“When she’s in that state. But look at Cassandra. You think she’s not worth having around? You think she wouldn’t add something to our group?”
Dez took a step back. “What are you saying?”
Michael moved up so they were nearly nose to nose. “I’m telling you we’re better off with Iris and her daughter than we are without them. You wanna argue otherwise?”
And like that, Dez saw it. The sunfish nibbling around the edges of his brain, the one that kept jerking down on the bobber…
…it was Iris.
Yes. His son meant the world to him, everything really. But after that it was Iris, and beyond her, there was only Michael, and to a lesser degree, Jim. The guy who’d once tried to kill him but today had saved his life. That had to be worth something.
Could he forsake Iris and Michael for his boy? He thought he could. But did that mean it was the right choice?
“Dez?” Michael said.
Dez took a few steps away.
Michael said, “We gotta decide. The longer we give those bastards to prepare for us, the worse our chances are. If Cassandra and Jim don’t find that other vampire, you know what that means.”
He knew. But even if Jemila was dead, their chances of busting back into the Fortress and finding Iris and her daughter and persuading them to leave, and somehow doing all that without getting killed, were negligible. But if he didn’t go….
Haunted. He’d be haunted either way. Either haunted by his refusal to save Iris, a woman he just might love, or haunted by the idea that Will, his little boy, was alive and facing this world without him. Dez’s hands curled into fists. That smarmy, weaselly stepfather. Was he with Will? Dez might be a Latent, but he knew Will would be safer with him than with his stepdad.
You so sure about that?
Dez clenched his jaws.
Susan chose a horde of vampires over you.
That’s not fair.
And look behind you, tough guy. Look on the ground. Did you protect Levi? Did you keep him safe the way you believe you’ll keep your son safe? Or maybe…
Don’t say it.
…maybe Will is better off without you. Maybe Iris is better off without you.
Get out of my head.
Two women choosing the vampire life because it’s preferable to staying with you.
Dez seized handfuls of his hair.
Failure.
He shook his head.
Coward.
“Enough!” he shouted.
He stood a second, chest heaving, and when he faced Michael he was sure he’d find derision. Instead, Michael was watching him, chin raised. “You come to a decision?”
Dez nodded. “We go for Iris.”
“And her daughter? Iris isn’t going anywhere without her.”
“Her too. But we gotta go now.”
Both of them looked down at Levi’s body.
“Hate to leave him like that,” Michael said.
Dez shook his head. “No time. No shovel either.”
Michael scratched a sideburn. “Let’s get him in the truck.”
That made sense. By the time they’d carried Levi to the Dodge, Cassandra and Jim were emerging from the woods.
“Gone,” Jim explained, though there was really no need. Jemila might even now be raising the alarm. Jim paused at the lowered gate of his truck bed and frowned at Levi’s body. “What’s that doing in there?”
“After this is done,” Dez said, “we need to bury him.”
“By ‘this’,” Jim said, “I’m guessing you aren’t talking about a cookout back at my house.”
“We’re getting Iris,” Michael said. “And her kid.”
Dez watched Cassandra for her reaction, but her face remained expressionless.
Jim drummed his bony fingers on the truck gate. “I suppose you realize what a shit-for-brains idea that is.”
“You think it’s so dumb,” Michael said, “why’d you run over those dudes with your truck? Why didn’t you stay home instead of gallivanting around these woods with an axe?”
Jim shrugged. “Bored, I guess.” A nod at Dez. “And I wanted to see what this dipshit was up to.”
Michael’s lips opened slightly. “That’s how you knew where to find us. You knew he was going after Susan.”
“Only had a general idea,” Jim said. “Vampires made the most sense. I was actually sort of lost when I met the fanged lady.”
Dez headed for the crew cab door. “Tell us about it on the way. We need to get to the school before dusk.”
He hauled himself into the backseat of the truck and waited. He thought, Please come with us, Cassandra. Please come. Because if she didn’t, they were as good as dead already.
Michael rode shotgun in front of Dez. Jim got behind the wheel and fired the engine. Cassandra remained where she was, standing by the roadside, her brow furrowed. Michael was turned in his seat, watching her through the rear window. “Should one of us try to talk to her?”
“Won’t do any good,” Jim said. “I’ve met people like her. Strong-willed. Nothing you say’s gonna make any difference. She’ll either go or tell you to fuck yourself.”
Dez couldn’t argue with that. Michael evidently couldn’t either because he swiveled in his seat. Come on, Cassandra, Dez urged. Come on. We need you.
After what seemed like an age, the door behind Jim opened and Cassandra climbed in.
Dez looked at her. “What decided you?”
“Unfinished business?” Michael asked.
But instead of answering, she said, “Drive,” and nestled into the corner with her arms crossed.
Good enough, Dez decided. Good enough.
* * *
They approached on a different road this time, though the dome of clouds smothering the late afternoon sun made it difficult to tell which direction they were going. The drive wasn’t long, but Jim took it slow, maybe to let Dez and Michael mourn their friend a little. Or maybe Jim was just apprehensive about their suicide mission.
Dez brooded about Levi. He sought the kid’s full name, and after a second, he had it: Hunter Levi Martin. ‘Hunter’ hadn’t suited him, so they’d opted to call him Levi.
But that kid…he’d brought something to their group. Lots of things. Joy. Innocence. The ability to cook better than any of them. And kindness. That most of all.
They were nearing the edge of the forest when Michael glanced back at Cassandra and said, “What did it? What made you come back?”
She gave an infinitesimal shrug. “Being alone, I guess. I imagined scurrying around the forest all winter, constantly looking over my shoulder. I just decided I’d rather face their wrath now than later.”
They reached a church parking lot. UNITARIAN CHURCH, the sign read. ALL ARE WELCOME HERE.
“Now there’s a novel idea,” Michael murmured.
Jim got out. Michael did too. From where Jim had parked, the school wasn’t totally visible, but if you looked up the hill through the clustered junipers, you could glimpse hints of it, perhaps two hundred yards distant. Jim and Michael leaned against the hood of the Dodge, talking. Dez and Cassandra stayed in the backseat.
He turned to her. “What’s the real reason you came back?”
“Mara,” she said.
Dez nodded. “I could be crazy, but I have this feeling she helped us escape.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me.”
“Why would she do that?”
“She hates her brother. Hates her mom even more. Come to think of it, I might be the only one she doesn’t hate.”
“But you’re not interested in her.”
Cassandra leaned her head against the window. “It’s complicated.”
Dez crossed his arms, gazed through the darkening evening at the trees reefing the church parking lot. “This is gonna be hard enough without more uncertainty.”
Cassandra cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’m not telling you about my personal life.”
“And I’m not asking. But I need to know, is she on our side or theirs? If I meet her in some dark hallway, do I try to kill her?”
The ghost of a smile. “Depends.”
Dez grunted. “Okay, how about I phrase it this way: if I kill her, are you gonna kill me?”
The corner of Cassandra’s mouth gathered in a smirk. “She’s too strong for you.”
“I killed a vampire back there in the forest.”
“Luck, mostly. And she was one of our weakest.”
“And I suppose Mara’s not?”
“When she gets mad, she scares me.” Cassandra reached for the door handle.
“Wait,” Dez said. “Is she angry with you? For leaving?”
“She might be. But I came back.”
“To fight her?” Dez asked. “Or go away with her?”
“I haven’t decided,” Cassandra said, and this time, she did go out.
They joined Jim and Michael by the front grill of the Dodge, then crept forward to a point where the school was visible up the rolling hill. There were no sentries visible, but that didn’t mean jackshit. It was highly possible the vampires were aware of their presence. Jim’s truck was royal blue, and its muffler wasn’t exactly in optimal working order. Hell, for that matter, if a vampire were stationed outside the Fortress, it probably scented the gasoline in the air. Pollution was so rare these days.
“How’s your battery?” Cassandra asked, and it took Dez a moment to realize she was asking Michael about his pyrokinesis.
“Hard to tell,” Michael said.
Jim cocked an eyebrow. “That’s pretty goddamned unhelpful.”
“What about you?” Michael shot back. “You ready to go all wolfman?”
Jim seemed to withdraw. “You shouldn’t joke about that. It’s not like I can control it.”
Michael hooked a thumb at Dez. “That’s not what he says. He says if you focus on a specific topic—”
“Let’s not do that now,” Dez said, and though he made sure not to make eye contact with Jim; he could feel the man’s seething gaze on him. But it’s not rage that brings out the wolf, he thought, it’s sorrow. Just keep the conversation away from his wife and daughter. Just keep it focused on the vampires, on the mission.
Cassandra said, “Whenever there are invaders, the queen closes ranks.”
“What’s that mean?” Michael asked.
From Dez’s left, Jim seemed to relax a little. Thank God.
“It means they’ll gather in a centralized spot,” she said.
“The Garden?” Dez guessed.
Cassandra nodded.
“So we bust in,” Michael said, “show up at their shindig and what? Take on the whole crew?”
“That’s why they close ranks,” she said. “No one can take on the whole crew.”
They were silent a moment.
“Can’t smoke ’em out,” Jim said. He looked at Dez. “We’d hurt your girl—”
“Woman,” Cassandra corrected.
Jim nodded. “Don’t wanna hurt her daughter either, even if she is one of those bloodsucking bastards.” At Cassandra’s look, he said, “No offense.”
She stared at him. “You know that saying ‘No offense’ doesn’t remove the offense, right?”
“You do suck blood though.”
“And you rip people to shreds when you lose your shit.”
Jim smiled frostily. “But yours is a decision.”
Cassandra’s smile was equally cold. “Blood is a necessary part of our diet.”
“See,” Michael said, “that’s what I’ve always wondered. I get that the sight of blood—”
“Or the smell,” Cassandra added.
“—brings you to a frenzy. But what exactly is the biological need it fulfills?”
“Do we need to do this now?” Dez asked.
“As a matter of fact,” Michael answered, “we do. On the off chance we save Iris and her daughter, we’re gonna have to take care of the kid, and I’d like to know what kind of diet she needs. Like, a victim a day? Or will squirrel blood do the trick?”
“Don’t joke about it,” Cassandra said.
Michael spread his arms. “Then enlighten me.”
Cassandra pitched a sigh and scuffed her shoes. “I don’t know precisely how it works. All I know is without blood, we become weak. Anemic.”
“Animal or human blood?” Dez asked.
“And how often you need it?” Jim put in.
“Once a week?” Cassandra said. “Any blood will do, though human blood sustains us for longer.”
Michael nodded. “You did seem pretty enthusiastic back there in the forest.” When Cassandra only favored him with a flat stare, he went on, “You know, when you were drinking from—”
“We got it,” Dez said.
Jim made a bitter face. “You guys are worried about the victory celebration before the game. I could just as easily be home right now instead of out here freezing my ass off.”
“Sitting in your living room?” Dez said. “Eating popcorn?”
Jim gave him a defiant glance. “Better than getting torn apart by vampires.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Michael said.
“Oh yeah,” Cassandra said. “That reminds me. Stay out of the pool. The creature that lives in there is bad news.”
Michael snapped his fingers. “Finn, right? That’s what they called it.”
“What the hell is it?” Dez asked.
“Who the fuck knows?” Cassandra answered. “Whenever the queen wants to give someone a gruesome death, she casts them into the pool. Or the storage room.”
“That reminds me,” Michael said. “I thought I saw something a minute ago.” He pointed across the road toward a dense copse of pines. Dez peered into the massed shadows but could see nothing.
“You think it’s the vampire child?” Dez said. “The one who lived?”
Michael nodded. “The one who saved your bacon back there.”
“Makes sense,” Cassandra said. “You two idiots saved its life. Now it’s beholden to you.”
Jim chuckled. “Like your very own Gollum.” He grinned at Michael and Dez. “I’m gonna start callin’ you Frodo and Sam.”
Michael nodded. “And I’m gonna call you the Big Gray Dickhead.”
Jim flipped Michael the bird.
They glared at each other a moment, then noticed Cassandra staring at them.
“What?” Jim asked.
“I feel like I’m babysitting,” she answered.
Jim pocketed his hands and tipped a nod toward the school. “How about you give us some recon?”
“No time,” she answered.
“I’d like some information too,” Michael said. “At least let us know which vampires to watch out for. Other than all of them.”
Cassandra heaved a sigh and started back toward the truck. The rest of them followed.
“The queen is the strongest,” she said.
“Noted,” Michael said.
“Next would be Quincey.”
“The one who stole Dez’s woman,” Jim supplied.
“Thanks for that,” Dez said.
“And then the princess—”
“Mara,” Michael said.
“The prince,” Cassandra continued. “And me.”
“What about Zixin?” Dez asked. “And Aliyah, the queen’s confidante?”
“Both are strong,” Cassandra allowed. “But they’re a step below Quincey and the royal family.”
“And you,” Michael said.
Cassandra didn’t answer.
Dez went around to the Dodge’s chrome toolbox, which spanned the truck bed under the back window. He extracted a machete and studied Jim’s arsenal. “You’ve got some good stuff here,” Dez said. He fished out a shotgun. “Is this loaded?”
Jim took the shotgun out of his hands. “It’s mine. And yes, they’re all loaded.”
Michael reached in and came out first with a black handgun, small and sleek, then a silver revolver that put Dez in mind of movie westerns.
“Three guns?” Dez asked.
“Four, counting my .38,” Jim said.
“So, if Mr. Second Amendment here gets two of the four,” Michael said with a look at Jim, “that leaves two for the three of us. Should we draw straws?”
“I don’t need a gun,” Cassandra said. She was peering toward the pines.
Michael strode up to Dez and presented both guns, which gleamed dully in his palms. “Choose your weapon, Raven. Black, like your shabby old clothes, or big and silver, like old Jim’s hair?”
Dez looked them over a moment, then selected the revolver.
Michael nodded. “More power but fewer shots.” He pocketed the black handgun. “You ask me, it’s a wash.”
“Won’t matter,” Cassandra said. “There’s no way we’re getting out of there alive.”
Michael regarded her sourly. “Thanks for the positive energy.”
“All right, assholes,” Jim said. “Let’s do this.” And with the shotgun in one hand and the .38 in the other, he set off up the road.
Watching him go, Michael said, “Dude must’ve really been bored back home.”
“I think he was driving himself crazy,” Dez said, “thinking about his wife and his daughter.”
Michael eyed him. “You’d know something about that, wouldn’t you?”
Dez studied the revolver. “Yeah. I would.”
They set off after Jim. Cassandra moved up next to Michael, but her gaze remained on the woods and whatever lurked in its shadows.