Authors: Christine Dougherty
She looked up at Evans. “Peter is somewhere in the lab and…he’s fighting with a vampire…he
was
…but it’s been quiet in here…” Her eyes searched the lab, trying to see into the tangled shadows. Then she looked back at Evans, her face stricken. “I have to tell you…the vampire is…was…Billet.”
His eyes came to hers in shock. “Billet? From our detail?”
Promise nodded and fresh tears skated over her lids and down her cheeks. They reflected the red lights, and for a second she seemed to be crying blood. “I’m so sorry, Ev.” She sobbed, beginning to crumble over herself. “Billet killed three people, and then he and Peter were fighting. They were…it was…so violent! The lab was sh-shaking apart…and I don’t know wh-where Peter is. I don’t know if he’s okay or…”
Evans’ hand grasped her arm. “Listen to me. He can take care of himself. Especially in this situation.” She began to shake her head, near hysterics, and his fingers dug in, pinching. A sliver of pain like fire fought with her impending panic. “You have to come with me. We have a safe spot. Peter will find a way to get himself out.”
“No! I want to find him! He might need my help,” she said, the panic trying once again to take over.
Evans leaned in and gripped the back of her neck with one hand, putting his forehead to hers. “He would want you out of here and safe. You know that,” he said and cut his eyes to Edwards who lay between them, breathing raggedly. “And I need your help getting him
and
the cure out. I can’t do both. You have to trust me and trust Peter. Like I said, he can take care of himself.” His eyes had a chagrined, wry cast.
She knew he was thinking about the time Peter had held Evans as easily as one would restrain a tantruming three-year-old.
“Okay, she said. “What do you want me to do?”
He shifted the case to her. “Take this and stay with me, okay?” The shivering tinkle of the delicate vials cleared the lines of panic trying to race through her mind. She took a deep breath. Evans was right, Peter could take care of himself, and without the cure…well, then there would have been no reason for
any
of this, including his own sacrifice of time and blood. He would want her to get the cure to safety. And he would want her safe, too.
Evans bent over Doctor Edwards. “Doctor? Can you put your arms up? I’m going to lift you over my shoulder.”
Edwards moaned sluggishly, but his arms rose. Evans crouched, pulling Edwards torso up and over his shoulder, then stood with a grunt. He turned to Promise. “We’re going out the doors and right,” he said and started to move across the darkened lab. Promise crowded up behind him, the case held tightly to her chest. His boots crunched on glass and bits of rubble. “Miller and Lu are three doors down in a small office…single door, no windows or skylights…easily defensible. The hardest part will be getting–”
He froze, looking to his left. Promise looked in the direction of his gaze. Billet lay half under an overturned lab table in a spill of blood. His throat had been torn out.
“Jesus Christ, did Peter do that?” Evans said, and his voice shook, with anger or fear or shock, Promise couldn’t tell. Her own knees were shaky, and she gripped the case even tighter. If Billet were dead, why hadn’t Peter come back for her? What would keep him away…besides death?
She tried to see into the gloom around them. “Peter?” she whispered. “Are you…” She scanned the darkness, and Evans resumed his trek to the doors, motioning her forward with his free hand. “Peter?” she said again, louder this time, and her voice broke. He must be dead, but she still felt him. Sensed him. Now the darkness began to seem malevolent. But that couldn’t be right…she wasn’t afraid of Peter.
Was she?
She turned to follow Evans, and her nerves felt electrified. The hair on her arms stood up, and her scalp began to tingle, as though they were being watched.
Evans slid the door open and peered into the hallway. He motioned her to follow as he slipped through the opening.
As she entered the hallway, she glanced back over her shoulder. The lab was a senseless jumble, and the shadows were darkly forbidding. A brief flash of orange, there and not there, from the back of the room. Her mind hummed with something… something…
is someone there?
Peter?
He pressed himself into the farthest corner and watched as the three humans made their way from the lab. His mind bit and snapped at him to
catch them
…catch them and bite, pierce that delicate flesh and let the blood flow…the hot salty elixir of desire. He ran his tongue over his elongated teeth and surged away from the wall. Then he threw himself back against it, panting. His mind twisted painfully, as he struggled with himself.
He wouldn’t do it.
He
wouldn’t
.
He…loved…he
loved
her…
Promise
.
The body was still in the hallway, but the vampire had moved on. The floor was slick with patternless sprays and smears of blood. This man, at least, wouldn’t be getting back up. He was white, bloodless. Bled dry.
Promise felt her gorge rise.
“Look away,” Evans said, his voice quiet but brisk.
Promise saw that he’d somehow managed to bring up the short, black crossbow that was the primary weapon of the Guard. He’d be able to get one shot off, but then he’d have to drop the doctor to reload. It wasn’t much of a defense; they’d have to hurry.
Three doors
…
just three doors
…Promise chanted to herself as they navigated the red, silent hallway. They passed a door with ‘Staff Only’ on the nameplate.
One down, two to go
…
one down, two to go
…
The second door was close to the first; it was open and eerily dark. Either there were no emergency lights in the room, or they had been knocked out. It yawned like the black maw of a giant, evil crow.
Evans swerved to the other side of the hall, as far from the gaping doorway as he could get. He kept the crossbow up and trained on the dark rectangle. Promise stayed close to his side, the case wrapped tightly in her arms. She eyed the hole with unease. Anything could be in there. Anyone.
Then they were past the second door and halfway to the third. Evans whistled sharply. The third door opened, and Promise was swept with relief. Miller stood in the doorway, holding it open, and waved them to her.
“Come on, come on, let’s–” Miller stopped abruptly, her eyes widening. She dropped to her knee and rolled once, putting herself in the middle of the hall. As the door began to close, Lu appeared to hold it open.
Miller gained her knees and brought up the crossbow. Promise paused, shaking, the vials chattering like an extension of her strung nerves. She was aiming it right at her! Before she could gasp out a ‘no!’, the arrow sliced the air next to her ear, and then a gibbering hiss came from behind her. Promise turned to look just as the vampire–an old one: dirty, thin, and used-looking, not recently changed–dropped to her knees, screeching as her fingers scrabbled madly at the inch and a half of arrow that stuck out just over her left breast. Then it pitched forward, a thick rope of black blood shooting across the hall and landing with a wet slap.
“Go, go, go!” Lu said, his arm pinwheeling, motioning them into the office. Evans brushed past him, but Promise stood, transfixed, her eyes wide with horror. Another vampire…this one recently changed…was racing down the hall toward them. Its eyes were red, and it screamed and wailed with triumphant rage as it closed on her.
Miller grabbed Promise’s shoulder and shoved roughly. “Move, Promise! Move your ass!” The slim vials of cure rattled sharply; that more than the shove woke Promise from her paralysis. She and Miller tumbled into the office, and Lu shoved the door closed behind them. He dropped a series of boards into place, securing it. The vampire battered itself against the door, squealing and hissing in frustration, but the door was solid and heavy; it rattled in its frame, but didn’t give.
“It will go away when it realizes it can’t get in here,” Lu said. Still, he kept an eye on the shaking door. A Coleman in the corner provided a steady glow. The soft light was such a change from the nightmare emergency red that filled the rest of the building that Promise felt instantly more at ease. She took a deep, steadying breath.
The room was a small, utilitarian office, about ten by ten, and a desk had been shoved against the back wall. Evans dropped Doctor Edwards gently onto the desk. Edwards groaned. “That was…a rough trip,” he said. “Not my recommended…mode of transport.”
Evans grinned down at him. “Better than being dragged, though, right?”
Edwards coughed out a weak laugh. “Yes. I suppose,” he said. He tried to look past Evans. “Is Promise here? Is Peter?”
Promise’s heart wrenched. She took the doctor’s cold hand in hers. “I’m here, and Peter is…he’s on his way,” she said, her voice hitching slightly around the half-truth she desperately hoped would become whole. “We have the case with the vials. The cure. We have that with us, too. It’s safe.”
He squeezed her hand. “That’s wonderful. Thank you. Thank you, Promise.”
“Not me…Ev deserves the thanks,” she said and smiled at Evans. Then she looked back at Doctor Edwards. “What can I do for you, Doctor? Are you going to be okay with just that pill?”
He rolled his head side-to-side and sighed. His skin was gray even in the warm glow of the lantern, and his eyes were deeply ringed with unhealthy black. The skin on his neck sagged in fragile laps. “No, I’m afraid I need more help than the nitro. I most likely need a surgery. A bypass. But it will all have to wait, won’t it? The best we can do is hope for no more muscle death. If I can make it through to morning, then Doctor Patel–he’s our surgeon–he can help me, I think,” he said, and his voice was trailed off to a whisper as his eyes closed. “I hope.”
“Just rest, then,” Promise said and squeezed his fingers. “Morning can’t be far away. Then we’ll get you taken care of.” She brushed her lips across his forehead, and he sighed into sleep.
She turned to the Guard soldiers. Miller gave her a short smile. “I didn’t think we’d be seeing you this soon. But it’s still nice to see you, Promise,” Miller said. Behind her, Lu gave a short nod, and Promise smiled at them as she sank onto the floor, leaning against the wall.
“It’s nice to see you guys, too. Seems like we can’t…can’t get away from–” She raised her hand in a weary circle, indicating the base, the vampires, the panic…everything.
Miller opened her mouth to reply, but Evans cut her off.
“I have bad news,” he said. “It’s Billet.”
Miller’s mouth closed with a snap, and Lu stepped toward Evans, his hands fisted at his sides. “You saw him? Where is he? We have to go get him. We have to–”
Evans crossed his arms over his chest and dropped his head.
“Dead? He’s dead?” Lu asked, his voice rising with incredulity.
Evans seemed unwilling to answer, tucked into his own grief.
“He’s dead, yes,” Promise said. “In the lab.”
Miller turned to her. “A vampire killed him?”
Promise hesitated, unsure what to say next. How to tell them that Peter most likely killed Billet? That he had to?
“Promise? Tell us. Did a vampire kill Billet?” Miller asked. Her voice vibrated slightly as she tried to control her obvious and growing frustration.
Promise looked to Evans, deferred to him.
He looked up, and his eyes were shadowed with grief and anger. “He’d been changed. He was killing people…at least three in the lab, that I know of; that Promise saw,” he said. “I think it was Peter that killed him, but he was protecting Promise and the Doctor.”
Miller put her hands on her hips, head down as she processed the information. Then she looked at Promise. “Where is Peter now? Why isn’t he with you?”
Promise shook her head, not trusting her voice. Her throat tightened. Miller put a hand on her shoulder. “Promise, is Peter dead?”
“I don’t know,” Promise said. Tears spilled onto her cheeks, but she brushed them away with impatience. “But somehow I don’t think so.” She blinked at Miller. “I think he’s still alive, but…”
“But what?” Miller asked, her voice soft.
Promise looked at Evans and then back to Miller. Her eyes were bright with tears.
“I think he might be worse now. Maybe changed all the way. That’s why he didn’t…why he didn’t come back for me.”
Miller drew Promise against her shoulder as the girl dissolved into tears. She patted Promise’s back and told her it would be okay…they’d find Peter, and he would be fine, and everything would be okay.
But over Promise’s head, her eyes locked grimly with Evans’.
Chapter 10
Lu checked his watch. “It’s morning,” he said. Nothing in the room had indicated the passing of time, save for the trapped air becoming warmer, denser, through the night.
Promise stirred from her spot near the desk as the soldiers began to confer, putting together a plan. She scrubbed her hands over her face and wondered if she looked as tired as them. She had not really slept so much as drifted in and out of a shallow unconsciousness where hands reached abruptly from darkness and delicate glass vials fell through the air, slipping through her fingers one by one. Although exhausted, she was glad to put the night behind her.
“Are we going to find Ash and Snow?” Promise asked, breaking into their conversation.
Miller and Lu exchanged a glance. Alarmed, Promise looked to Evans. He, at least, knew how much the horses meant to her.
“We’ll look for them,” he said. His eyes were grim, and his voice was filled with reluctance. “But they…they aren’t our priority. The people have to come first. Can you understand that?”
Promise chewed her lower lip, determined not to cry again. She looked at her hands twisted together near her waist, unable to trust her voice. She felt the weight of Evans’ eyes but couldn’t meet his gaze. She knew it was ridiculous to feel let down–but it was still how she felt. She nodded.
The soldiers turned back to each other.