Anyelet's face twisted as Stephen nodded, a semblance of sanity returning to his face. How had this twit known his name? The girl glanced around the hall, the only spot of color on her body the small streak of crimson on her forehead. Then she stared at Anyelet again, and Anyelet could have screamed at the swelling of pain those crystalline eyes brought to her head. The girl smiled sweetly, and when she spoke, her whisper was like the damning moan of funeral bells.
"
The angel of death has been born
."
REVELATION 12:14
And to them were given two wings of a great eagle,
that they might fly.
~ * ~
"This is the end of the line, C.J. C.J.!"
"
No!
" He sprinted in the opposite direction, then stopped unsteadily at the edge of the small terrace. Below the sidewalk was like a black flood; here and there the light of the moon highlighted the far rooftops. He stretched a blood-flecked hand toward her, then dropped it helplessly. "I'm—oh,
God
, Louise." His glance skittered over her shoulder to the door, barricaded with only an empty, rusted oil drum. "We should've gone up to the next level—I should have
known
better—"
"Shush." She pressed her fingers against his mouth. "It wouldn't have made any difference. We knew that when we pulled them away from the Mart, didn't we?" He flinched as something knocked playfully against the other side of the door.
“
Hellooooo
. . .
Anybody home?
"
Louise gripped his arm tightly, pulled the pistol from her jacket pocket and offered it to him.
"You know that won't help!"
"I don't mean for them," she said urgently.
C.J. squeezed his eyes shut, then tugged her farther away from the door. The small section of roof wasn't much; once the beasts beyond the door got tired of playing, it would be only seconds to the end. With each half-lazy thump, C.J.'s heart gave a sledgehammer pound of its own. "I can't do that," he said hoarsely. "Can you?"
She opened her mouth, then shut it. "No," she whispered. The pistol clattered to the tarred surface. Her eyes were terrified sparkles as she looked at him pleadingly.
"
I don't want to be like them
."
"Me neither." C.J. stepped to the terrace edge and Jeered over. A hundred feet below, the sidewalk was like a tempting, dizzying trampoline.
Louise followed his lead, then shot a frightened glance behind her as the metal can gave a scream of protest when the door began to force it aside. A small moan slipped from her throat. "Suicide?"
"No," he said grimly. Behind them the door rebounded against the wall as their pursuers finally beat it open. From up here, the last of the daylight was a lost purple smudge in the west.
"Salvation." He held out his hand, and she took it and squeezed. His fingers slid forward and they locked wrists.
Silent, they stepped off the edge of the world and flew like eagles.
~ * ~
"Shit, man," Ron said in disgust. He picked up the limp wrist of the girl, then let it drop. He and Gabriel had tried to get at least something from the bodies, succeeding only in getting their clothes and hands sticky with blood. Anything worthwhile was splattered across the concrete. "These guys are nothing but dog meat."
"Yeah." Gabriel grabbed his arm. 'And here come the dogs." A small pack of outcasts was slinking along the sidewalk, growling and snapping, their tongues black and ripping at the smell of blood. Soon they would be scratching and fighting amid the remains like hyenas.
Ron and Gabriel fled into the darkness, leaving the bodies to the scavengers.
REVELATION 16:6
For they have shed the blood of saints and prophets. . . .
~ * ~
"Kill her!" Anyelet hissed. "Do it
now
!"
No one moved. Anyelet’s face went purple. "You're all imbeciles! Rita!" she barked. Rita's head snapped up, her puckered, twisted face jarred to attention. "You take care of it! The rest of you come with me before the humans get too far—"
White fire encircled her wrist and rocketed up her arm as the girl's hand shot out to stop her. Shrieking, Anyelet tried to twist away from the hand clamped on her as the other vampires gasped and wailed but made no move to help. She felt like she was being
electrocuted
, her thoughts crisped in her mind before they could finish. At last she managed a sharp backhand that sent the girl reeling into Rita's waiting arms. Something blue
flashed
and Rita screeched and flung her away.
"She—she
burned
me!" Rita yowled. "I can't touch her!"
"Then
use
something, you fool!" Anyelet bellowed. Her remaining soldiers were no more than frozen statues.
"Yes, Rita . . ." The girl cocked her head, as if trying to hear something. The stench of burning flesh and charred cotton filled the hallway. "Why don't you use your . . .
knife
?"
"
DO IT!
" Anyelet roared, and shoved Rita forward. Rita stumbled, then righted herself and drew the carving knife from her belt, its blade still crusted with Howard's blood. She gnashed her teeth and advanced on Jo as Anyelet and the others closed around the two women like wolves.
Jo smiled serenely and closed her eyes. Then she spread her arms wide in a welcoming embrace, soundless as her lifeblood splattered the dead who gathered.
REVELATION 22:11
And he that is holy, let him be holy still.
~ * ~
"We have to move," McDole told Ira and Calie. "I know we've only been back a couple of hours and its going to be difficult with all these new people, but tell everyone to be ready by ten o'clock." Beneath his anguished eyes, his cheeks were hollow from lack of sleep. Last night had been difficult beyond words; while Alex's choice of a hiding place had proven wise, the darktime hours had been filled with terror as they dragged painfully by in the wait for dawn. "We'll give them one more hour—"
"
That won't be necessary
."
McDole spun, nearly tripping over the chair behind him. For a moment he couldn't even speak. "How did you get in here?" he choked out. "How did you even
know
where to come?"
Stephen smiled calmly at the older man and Calie, who was staring at him openmouthed with Beau cradled in her arms. His face darkened. "C.J. and Louise won't be coming back," he said in a low voice.
Calie sobbed, just once, then lifted her chin. "They . . . they didn't—"
"No," Stephen answered simply. "They didn't." McDole sat heavily onto the chair and stared at the floor.
"Calie." Dr. Perlman hobbled into the room. "I'm having a hard time—" He stopped at the sight of Stephen. "I thought you'd . . ."
"Be dead? No, not yet." He gazed at the doctor, his eyes an odd mirror of Jo's. "I came because I . . . had a feeling you needed help with Renata."
Perlman started to say something, then dismissed it. "Come with me," he said. Yesterday's frantic exercise made him limp heavily as he led Stephen down a long hallway, then up a flight of stairs into a room converted to a makeshift hospital ward. Calie and McDole followed glumly as the doctor showed Stephen to the far end, where the pregnant woman they'd rescued yesterday strained against restraints. "We had to tie her again. I can't even hold a logical conversation with her," Perlman complained. "She won’t listen, she won't talk." Perlman looked haggard. "Listen, I'm a bacteriologist, not a psychiatrist. All I know for sure is I can't keep her sedated; it's bad for both the baby and her."
Stephen stepped to the woman's bed. "Renata," he said gently, "Dr. Perlman wants to discuss the baby with you."
"How do you know everyone's name?" McDole asked in the background.
Calie shot him a puzzled glance. "Wasn't he with you at the Mart yesterday?"
"It's evil!" Renata shouted suddenly. Spittle sprayed from her mouth. "The child is a monster!"
"Not at all," Stephen said soothingly. "Howard is
dead
, Renata. This isn't his child, it's
yours
." His fingers stroked the damp hair from her sweat-drenched forehead. "A baby, blameless, at the mercy of someone else." He paused, then leaned close. "Do you remember what it was like to be at someone else's mercy, Renata?" She stiffened. "Think of a child subjected to that kind of hatred." The woman's hands gripped the bedrails until the fingernails showed white; she began to cry.
"Then"—Stephen let his hand drop briefly to the small swell of her stomach—"think of a child raised under opposite circumstances, how a . . .
boy
might grow into a fine man if he were cherished and taught to love others in a healthy way." His fingers found the sheet strips around Renata's wrists and began untying them; Perlman shuffled nervously. "
Your son
, Renata. You might name him . . ." Stephen's gaze flicked to McDole and Calie, then back. ". . . Clement Judd, after that brave young man who gave his life to help free you and the others." He stopped and studied her. "That is, of course, if you decide you want to keep the boy after all."
Silence, heavy and fearful, settled on the small group as they all stared at Renata. For the first time since her explosive arrival yesterday, her hands were free. Perlman looked ready to leap if she made the slightest movement.
"It's a boy?" Renata asked in a small voice. Her hands folded tentatively around her stomach.
"Yes." Stephen backed away and motioned for the others to follow.
"You're sure—"
Perlman began, but Stephen waved at him to be quiet. On the bed, Renata sat up and looked around; after a second she poured herself a glass of water from the bedside pitcher, then picked up a small hand mirror from the table and frowned at her reflection.
"She'll be okay," Stephen assured Perlman. "She just needed to remember that the villain was Howard, not the child."
"Clement Judd?" Calie raised her eyebrows.
Stephen gave her a distracted glance. “A nice name, don't you think?"
REVELATION 22:3
And there shall be no more curse.
~ * ~
Where will I be twenty years from now?
Alex straightened and stretched the muscles in his back.
Will I remember the smell of soil and the way the sun broke through the clouds to shine on the park?
Will I remember Deb?
He picked up his shovel and leaned on it. Grant Park was, of course, deserted, the Art Institute a gray fortress at his back. A fitting place for Deb's grave; she had loved the Institute, and how many people could've claimed they had worked
and
lived there? Soon the small mound of upturned earth would fade into the surrounding lawn, covered casually by grasses that would probably grow long and wild for centuries to come.
The sun pushed through in earnest as the cloud cover scattered and the temperature climbed noticeably. Deb's final resting place was in the sun, as she had requested, but he thought it looked sad and plain compared to the greening spread of the surrounding park and the eternal beauty of the woman it held. Alex tossed the shovel aside and thought of the tiny white daisies that Deb had so cherished.
He knew just where to get seeds.
REVELATION 22:5
And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle,
neither light of the sun.
~ * ~
"We'll have quite a few babies around here within a year," Perlman told McDole. “At least two of those women are pregnant, maybe more."
"Not enough to repopulate the world, Bill," McDole pointed out with a wry grin.
"No." The doctor shrugged. "But it's a start. Besides, once it's obvious that the vampires are gone, I bet we find a lot more people than even you realized."
McDole sat back. "You really believe in that V-BAC."
"Without a doubt."
McDole stared out the window morosely. "Too bad it didn't come last month, or last winter. Then maybe—"
"Don't." Perlman placed a hand on McDole's shoulder. "There're too many 'what ifs' that we could torture ourselves with, and too many of
those
would've changed anyway."
McDole's forehead creased. "Where did Stephen go? He's disappeared already."
"He's one of those 'what ifs,'" Perlman said. He turned and grinned as Calie reached past him and shoved a squirming bundle into McDole's hands.
"Don't look so glum, boss," she said cheerily as McDole gaped at the tiny red face of Evelyn's son. He couldn't help smiling as the baby squinted and waved a miniature fist. Calie folded her arms. "That's better. You wouldn't want your namesake to actually
look
like you, would you?"