Authors: Merrie Destefano
Omega:
The woman turned away. Overhead the sky howled, mournful and heartbroken, as if the heavens already knew what was going to happen. Omega crouched behind one of the stone tombs, watching her. She was sick. He could feel it in her touch. She needed to come with him, away from this place. He had tried to tell her, to get her to come with him, back to his pack. She would have been safe there.
But it was too late now.
It was coming, that thing he had been waiting for, walking through the cemetery gates. Sometimes it looked like a man, and sometimes it didn't. It stood upright, but it moved, wrapped in shadow, darkness trailing behind it, a swirling gossamer pattern that spun out in corkscrew curls. The darkness flowed and fluttered like a cape in the wind.
Omega felt a growl, deep inside. He wanted to lunge, to strike this man-beast, to attack him.
The man walked with the stench of death and he needed to be destroyed.
Omega stamped the ground with his front paw. He tried to get the woman to look at him, to turn and come.
But she kept her eyes fixed on the approaching demon, and on the vehicle that rumbled at the curb.
Chaz:
Clouds covered the sky, turned all the bright, hard edges into something shadowy, something obscure. I felt lost. In one moment my reason and my command of the approaching situation dissolved. Like sand castles worn away by one swift wave. Angelique retreated into a narrow crevice between the tombs, she knelt, her back to me.
Despair raged in my heart, stronger than any emotion I had ever known.
Isabelle's face appeared before me, transposed on the darkening sky, like a transparent piece of film: full of color and expression, yet distant. She might not come back to me, for all my plans. She might always appear this way, a memory, beautiful and fragile.
Oh, God, this ache was more than I could bear.
Then I heard the rumbling growl of a car, wide tires ripping gravel, saw steel and aluminum sparking in the dull light. It stopped in front of the gates, some hybrid monster that bridged the gap between a Hummer and an oversized SUV. A door breezed open and he stepped out.
The man I never wanted to see again. Not alive anyway.
Dressed in gutter-punk black, his muscles rippled through his clothes, like his body had a life of its own. His bald head was covered with metal studs, his lizard eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses. A lazy grin snaked up his left cheek, carved a dimple.
The door closed behind him and I wondered, was Isabelle inside? Was she safe?
The wrought-iron gate creaked as he pushed it open.
“Takes off yur jacket and shirt, Domingue. Throws 'em on the ground.” He stopped about ten feet away from me. “And empties yur pockets. Slow and easy, now. Don't be tossin' no liquid light, neither.”
I kept my eyes on him as I pulled off my jacket. I was unbuttoning my shirt when I saw a movement, faster than anything I could have reacted to. One of his hands lifted something.
“Chaz!” Angelique cried out, but we both knew it was too late.
The sting of a dart. A tufted yellow feather blowing in the wind. I yanked it out of my arm, saw an orange haze descend before the dart landed on the ground by my feet.
“Ya'll won't be no causing me no problems now, wills ya?”
Neville laughed as my knees buckled beneath me, as I crumpled into a crouching position. Orange light colored everything, clouds rolled into my chest. It felt like I was trying to breathe with a pillow over my head.
“Is she in the car?” I asked. I pushed myself back up to a standing position, felt my legs wobble, kept my eyes focused on his.
He nodded.
“Get her out, let me see her or no deal.”
“It ain't gonna works like that. Yur Newbie, she's gonna
go inside and brings yur little princess out. All safe and pretty-pretty, just like I promises.”
I shot a glance at Angelique, her skin moist, her eyes dull. She was too weak; if anything happenedâ
“Okay,” she said, moving toward the vehicle on unsteady feet. “But if anything happens to me or the little girl, you might not like the consequences.”
“Angelique, don't goâ” I tried to stop her, but I don't know if my words even left my mouth. The door to the Hummer opened, then she stepped into a dark, fathomless chasm and disappeared.
And at the same moment, Neville kicked me in the gut.
I rolled forward, gasping for air, and discovered that a one-sided fight had just begun.
Chaz:
Orange tombs swayed and tossed, an angry sea, a melancholy parade. The wind blew, cold, the sky hung low, and the ground sparkled with flecks of red. My blood, I think. One of my teeth was missing, but I wasn't sure, underneath the pain.
One punch followed another, a rapid downbeat rhythm of knuckle against fleshâNeville's fists, my flesh, the tempo fueled by his gen-spike madness. At some point I thought that he would go on like this all day, until his halo high dissipated and I was a pile of brain-dead hamburger, ready for full VR life support.
But then, for some reason he stopped. Maybe because he realized that if he continued, he'd never get what he wanted. If I was dead or unconscious, his deal wouldn't go through. There'd be nobody at the counter to take his order.
One serving of immortality, ready and waiting. Yes, sir.
I pushed myself back into a sitting position. I needed some semblance of life, had to make him see that I wasn't broken. Not really. Damaged, yes. Defeated, no.
I thought I saw something move in the shadows between the crypts. Something black, watching me. I blinked. It was a dog, I think, but it pulled back into the darkness and disappeared. Just as well.
One mongrel was enough to fight right now.
The door to the Hummer breezed open. Both Isabelle and Angelique stepped out.
They looked okay, they both looked fine. Angelique seemed a bit weaker, she stumbled as she moved forward and Neville watched her with a sly, crooked grin.
But Isabelle broke away and ran. Still wearing the black-and-white diamonds, her face smeared with rouge, she ran toward me, her arms out, tears on her cheeks.
“Uncle Chaz! Uncle Chaz!” She flew into my arms like a baby bird and I held her close, felt her tremble and heard her weep. She was safe, my little girl was safe. Now that Russ and her mom were gone she was mine to protect, love and shelter.
And I wasn't going to make any of the same mistakes my brother had.
“She's leaving now,” I said, my voice coming out like a growl. “Did you hear me?”
Skellar's voice echoed in my ear. “On my way. Immediately.”
The lieutenant's car screamed down from a nearby rooftop, hovered a few feet over the tombs to my left. The passenger door opened and a stairway slid down to the ground.
Neville didn't react. He just watched. Almost as if he had expected this.
“I keeps my part of the bargain,” he said.
“Go up the stairs,” I told Isabelle. She didn't want to leave, she cried and argued for a moment, then realized that she had to go, that I wasn't going to change my mind. “I'll see you soon, sweetheart.”
She paused halfway up the stairs and looked back at me. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
Skellar reached out and took her by the arm, helped her inside the car. Then they took off, zipped out of sight. Almost like neither one of them had really been here. It was just us now, Neville, Angelique and me. And that dog, somewhere in the shadows. He was watching Angelique.
It had to be Omega. That dog she had experimented on. The one she and Russ had killed over and over again.
I just prayed that he wasn't here looking for revenge.
Chaz:
Sometimes life can be measured in small miracles. A string of diamond-bright supernatural interventions. Right now he stood over me, the monster that wanted to end the world, one person at a time. He had invaded my family gates and then waited years for this moment. Right now, he was winning. I was still on the ground, unable to stand, his poison in my veins. My life was his, and as far as I was concerned, that was just fine.
Because Isabelle was safe. Skellar came through. I never knew for sure if he would hold up his end of our agreement, if he would come down from the sky at just the right moment and carry her away. But he did.
That was my miracle. My reason for living and dying.
I guess I forgot that there might be more to the story.
“Gives it to me,” Neville said. His lips were pale and cracked, the stench of decay overwhelming. That was when the scales of Providence tipped. No more interventions for me and mine. With lightning reflexes, Neville grabbed An
gelique by the hair and pulled her toward him. She winced in pain.
I tried to stand up, swung a feeble arm in his direction.
“Let her go!” I cried.
He ignored me, grinned down at Angelique. “We forgots to mention something, didn't we? Tells yur boyfriend here yur little secret. Tells him what happened inside the car.”
I instinctively ran my gaze over her body, tried to figure out what could have happened in twenty minutes.
“It doesn't matter,” she said, her voice weak.
“She doesn't sounds so brave, does she?” He paused to laugh, raw and guttural. “Ya knows why? 'Cause we takes out her Fresh Start chip. She's a One-Timer now. Just likes you.”
She lifted her chin. “I was done jumping.”
Just then a blade flashed in the dying light, silver and sharp. It caught the sun on its tip, held it captive for a blinding moment then slid into position. Against Angelique's throat. Neville watched me as he pressed the handle of the knife. A trickle of blood flowed down, began to stain her dress. The look in her eyes made me want to cry outâshe looked like a fawn, knowing it's about to be slaughtered. She was struggling to fight the fear but it rose to the surface, clouded her eyes.
“Ya tries anything and she's done,” he said, then whispered loudly in her ear. “Whadya thinks 'bout that, sugah? Ya ready to steps into the Great Beyond?”
“The serum's over here,” I said, forcing myself to my feet, ignoring the pain that made me want to double over. I staggered a few steps and gestured weakly for him to follow.
He pulled Angelique with him, one hand wrapped in her hair, the other pressing the knife. I kept glancing back as I moved forward. One misstep, one stumble and he could accidentally slice through her skin, the blade would find her jugular and take her away forever.
Just then the wind picked up, howled through the surrounding trees, caught dead leaves and forced them to dance around us, like lifeless marionettes spinning in a macabre pirouette.
Behind us Omega lifted his nose, sniffed the air, watched Angelique as she shuffled away from him. He took a cautious step, following us.
Not now, dog, if you jump now, she's dead
. I shot him a warning glance.
Neville paused, then looked behind him as if he sensed something.
Omega melted into the shadows. Only I could see him now.
Neville's grip tightened on Angelique and a soft cry of pain shot from her lips. I had to get his attention away from the hidden dog, needed to make him face me and lift his pressure from the knife.
“Here!” I called. “It's just past this crypt.”
He was facing me again, stumbling in my direction, pushing Angelique forward step by step. Her eyes met mine and she forced a smile.
“Come on,” I said as I rounded a corner.
Then I knelt before one of the crumbling tombs, ran my fingers through the tokens that lay draped around the neck of a stone angel. Mixed in amidst weathered rosaries and strings of Mardi Gras beads I found it, the simple leather cord with a glass vial on the end. I held it delicately between my thumb and forefinger as I untangled it and pulled it free.
“What's this?” He came around the corner just as I was clasping it in my fist. “This ain't no time for prayin', Domingue. Off yur knees.”
I clamped my fingers tight. “Let her go.”
“What ya gots in yur hand?” He leaned forward, curious.
I opened my palm to reveal the vial. The serum caught a ray of sunlight and seemed to glow with a phosphorescent
light, like a jewel from another world. I was just outside his reach. He'd have to take another step forward and release Angelique if he wanted the vial.
“Immortality,” I said. “Eternity. There's one injection left.”
Neville chuckled. It looked like he was going to do what I wanted. His pressure on the knife lessened slightly. He took a step forward and leaned toward me, reaching out with his other hand. Only a few more inches and she'd be free. I stretched my hand toward his, ready for this exchange to be over.
Just then a wild growl sounded from the shadows.
Neville turned his head slightly, frowning. “What the hell isâ”
Before either of us could react, Omega bounded out from a crevice between the tombs. He had been stalking Neville, had worked his way closer through the maze of tombs and now he was flying through the air, teeth bared, claws like talons, a rumbling snarl deep in his throat.
“No!” Angelique cried out, her voice strangely muffled.
In an instant, the dog struck Neville in the back, the force of Omega's weight pushing Angelique away. But in that same moment, Neville instinctively dug his knife deeper.
A widening pool of blood spread beneath her.
She slumped to the ground, uttered a long moan and then fell quiet.
Neville still clasped the knife and now he lunged toward me, propelled by the momentum of the dog. His left hand grabbed mine and we both clenched the vial, pressed inside our palms.
With his right hand he drove the blade into my gut. Six inches of steel honed in on that sweet spot between my ribs.
Meanwhile, dagger-like teeth latched onto Neville's throat. The dog buried his muzzle in flesh and bone; he snapped and tore and thrashed until bones crunched and blood sprayed out.
Then all three of us tumbled backward in an endless arc of pain until finally my spine slammed against the cement, an agony of torn muscle and broken vertebrae. A second later, our fists hammered the ground in unison. I felt the bones in my wrist shatter and then a hundred tiny knives sliced into my palm.
Somewhere beyond horror and pain I realized what was happening.
But I was helpless to stop it.
Neville's body thumped on top of me and he cried out with his last breath. He struggled to break free from the dog's relentless attack, but his strength waned as his blood continued to flow. The force of his fall drove the blade even deeper into my chest until it found the ultimate prize.
My heart.
But that was when the real nightmare began, when he finally stopped flailing, for his left hand was still clasped with mine.
We were dying, both of us.
Our hands were locked together. And inside our palms, the shards of broken glass cut like a thousand needles, ripping through flesh and cartilage, intersecting blood vessels and capillaries.
And now the serum was flowing into both of our bodies.