City of Light Page 4

  Her gaze followed my fingers. “Bar code?”

  I hesitated. “It would be black, and look like lots of little lines squashed together.”

  She shook her head. “No. He was almost see-through, and he didn’t really have a face. Just big eyes and a squashed nose.”

  So not a déchet, but something far, far worse. She’d described—almost to the letter—the creatures commonly called wraiths. They were one of the Others, but, unlike most, they seemed to have a distinct plan and purpose beyond murder and mayhem. The only trouble was, no one—as far as I was aware—had yet discovered that purpose.

  But why would a wraith kill Penny’s parents and only slash her up? That wasn’t their usual mode of operation. Generally, if a wraith crossed your path, you were dead. No ifs, buts, or second chances.

  The light screen above the door flickered to life, indicating the mediscan bed had finished the healing process. I tossed my half-eaten meal in the nearby recycle bin and rose.

  “Is Jonas better now?” Penny said, her expression solemn as she studied the screen.

  “Let’s go see.” I waved a hand for her to precede me, and sipped my coffee as I followed. The ghosts trailed alongside us, a flotilla of humming happiness. Which again made me question the drifting sense of unease within me.

  An amber light flashed on the control monitor above Jonas’s bed. I frowned and pressed a couple of buttons. Though the ranger’s wounds had been healed, his vital signs were becoming unstable and there was no indication as to why.

  “He’s been poisoned,” Penny repeated softly. “We have to get him to Nuri, otherwise he’ll die. I don’t want him to die. He’s all I have left.”

  “He won’t die.” I flicked the screen across to view the blood work. There was nothing there—certainly no sign of any abnormality in his tox results. And yet he wasn’t waking up, and his condition was worsening.

  I looked at Penny. “Are you sure he didn’t say what he was poisoned with?”

  She shook her head, and I bit back a growl of frustration.

  “Please,” she said. “We have to get him to Nuri. He said it was his only chance.”

  I blew out a breath, glanced at the screen, then closed my eyes and said, “Okay, but we can’t go now. We have to wait until the morning.”

  “But—”

  “Penny,” I said, gently but firmly. “The night belongs to the vampires, and we’ll all die if we go out there now. We’ll just have to hope he hangs on until tomorrow.”

  Besides, there was no way I was going into Chaos at night. In that place, vampires certainly weren’t the biggest threat to life.

  Her bottom lip quivered, but no tears filled her eyes. Maybe she couldn’t cry. Maybe she was all out of tears.

  “Can I stay here with him?”

  “Yes.” I picked her up and sat her on the next bed. “Snuggle down, little one. The bed will keep you warm, and the ghosts will keep you company.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Just to check how the system is holding up against the vampires. I’ll be back soon.”

  She nodded and lay down. Her eyes drifted closed and, within minutes, she was asleep. I glanced up at the light screen. Her core temperature was low, but everything else seemed to be okay. I pressed a button, setting the machine to do a full scan, then turned and headed out. Bear and Cat came with me; the others stayed behind, happily gossiping with one another. After so many years of just having me to talk to and about, I thought wryly, this had to be the most exciting thing that had ever happened to them.

  I didn’t immediately go check the system, however. I headed instead down to the ninth level—the level where, in the long years immediately after this place had been cleansed, I’d taken what little remained of everyone who’d died here. The ghosts of the adult déchet had followed their bones, but the humans who’d died here had not, and I had no idea where they’d gone. I knew humans believed that while most souls moved on after death, a person who’d been taken before their time could not. Did that mean everyone other than Hank—who was the only human ghost I’d seen over the years—had moved on? I didn’t know—and, to be honest, had no real desire to find out. I might owe humanity for my existence, but I certainly owed them nothing else.

  The farther down I went, the closer I got to them, the more their anger grew. They were well aware of just who I’d brought into our home.

  I took a deep breath and said, “I apologize for bringing our foe into your midst, but he will not be here long. He saved the young child’s life, and you cannot harm him in any way.”

  The only response was a sharpening of the anger. It crawled across my skin like fire, burning where it touched. And while I could—through physical contact with their energy—see and talk to these déchet as I might the living, I wasn’t about to tempt fate that way. Of course, they might not give me an option.

  “I know you’re unhappy, but I had no choice. And the war is long ended.”

  Energy surged across my skin, creating a fleeting connection that was intense and filled with hate.

  It will never be over for us, a deep voice said. We were soldiers, created to kill, and death has not ended that directive.

  “But you cannot kill without orders.” And even as I said it, I crossed mental fingers, because I really had no idea if that was true one hundred years down the track.

  And that, came the harsh reply, is the only reason the ranger still lives.

  Relief spun through me. At least that meant they were one less problem I had to worry about.

  I would not, however, the voice added, bring him down here. Directives and conditioning have been known to fail.

  And with that warning ringing in my ears, the connection died and the ghosts left. I retreated.

  A check upstairs revealed the remaining vampires still prowled around the building, looking for a way in. While that was not unusual, there was an intensity to their movements that was troubling. It was almost as if they were being ordered to do so—and yet, I’d never heard or seen any evidence that vampire society had any sort of hierarchy.

  I cleaned up the mess I’d made in the museum area, then patrolled the rest of the complex out of habit. Once I was sure everything was secure and the system was working fine, I headed down to the bunk room, where I gave myself a booster shot against whatever viruses and infections the vamps’ claws and teeth might have held. It was something I really didn’t need, but taking it at least took the stress off my body’s self-healing properties. By the time I’d had a shower and changed my clothes, a couple of hours had slipped past. Penny was still asleep, but the ranger stirred, his lean, muscular body bathed in sweat as he unconsciously fought the restraints holding him in place. A glance at the light screen confirmed his core temperature was rising.

  I downgraded the bed’s temp setting, then introduced a strong sedative. He calmed almost instantly, but his brain activity remained high, and his core temp wasn’t going down. That wasn’t good, especially when the machine wasn’t picking up a reason. But then, these machines were old. Who knew what sort of poisons the world had developed since their creation?

  Frowning, I turned around and studied Penny’s results. Even after the full scan, there didn’t appear to be anything unusual other than a lower than normal core temp. So why did I still have a gut feeling that all was not well?

  Maybe it was just the guilt. Maybe I would never be able to look at a child in trouble and not be certain there had to be something more I could do to help.

  Cat drifted into my vision. Ghostly palms gently cupped my face as her energy ran through me, full of reassurance. I smiled and kissed her fingertips, feeling the warmth in them and half wishing they could once again hold flesh. But that, too, was something that was never going to be.

  I blew out a breath, half-annoyed at the sudden wash of melancholy, and walked across to the chairs near the door. Here I perched, keeping an eye on both of the monitors as the long night rolled slowly by.

&
nbsp; Penny eventually woke and almost instantly said, “It’s dawn.”

  I raised an eyebrow. I knew it was nearly dawn because my DNA was sensitive to the coming and going of the sun, but it was rare to find a shifter similarly attuned. Not when they were this deep underground, anyway.

  “Yes, it is.” I rose from my chair. “Would you like some breakfast?”

  She shook her head. “We need to take Jonas to Nuri.”

  My gaze flicked to the readouts. He’d definitely gone downhill over the last couple of hours, but he wasn’t at death’s door just yet. “Penny,” I said, as gently as I could. “You need to eat. You won’t be any help to Jonas if you make yourself sick.”

  “No!” Her voice was strident, angry, and again that darkness flashed briefly in her eyes.

  I frowned, my gaze flicking to the ghosts. They didn’t seem alarmed. “Okay, we’ll go. But I need to get some supplies first, just to make sure we’re safe.”

  She nodded and almost instantly calmed down. I spun on my heel, leaving her in the company of the ghosts as I made my way to a secondary gun cache two levels down. I grabbed several automatics and a couple of clips, and hid them all under a long, hooded trench that I’d stolen from Central last winter. I thought briefly about altering my appearance, but decided against it. It took a lot of energy to initiate a shift, though once achieved it was easy enough to maintain as long as I ate sensibly and slept properly. But right now, it was probably more prudent to save my strength for whatever might await in Chaos. Besides, if what I’d seen on the surface a month ago was any indication, my black-and-white-striped hair would be deemed rather mild.

  I headed to medical supplies to collect an airchair. Though there was no way known I could take it into Chaos—doing so would be nothing short of issuing an invitation to be attacked—I could at least use it until we reached the bunker’s South Siding exit. The less distance I had to carry the shifter, the better.

  Penny hadn’t moved when I got back. She simply sat on the bed staring at Jonas. Maybe she was willing him to live or something.

  I detached him from the bed’s sensors, then carefully lifted him up and placed him on the chair. Once I’d strapped him in, I glanced at Penny. “Ready to go?”

  She nodded, her little face solemn as she jumped off the bed. The ghosts swirled around, excited and happy that we were once again moving. It wouldn’t last—not when they realized we were not only heading back up to the surface, but going out.

  “Bear, lead the way.”

  He hummed contentedly and did as bidden, guiding us through the myriad tunnels. As we neared the exit, the tunnel became strewn with the rubble and debris that had drifted in over the years thanks to the overflow from the nearby drains. The air was a putrid mix of humanity, rotting rubbish, and the muddy scent of the trickle of water that was still known as the Barra River. Like many things in this world of ours, its course had been forever altered when the bombs had been unleashed.

  The thick steel grate covering the exit came into sight, and the green light flashing to one side indicated the outer system was still in full security mode. Thankfully, the laser net protected only the dome itself, and, with any luck, the museum staff would blame the system going briefly offline on a computer glitch, as they had in the past.

  I powered down the airchair, then walked around to the control box and quickly typed in the twelve-digit code. This tunnel had been designed as a means of escape and, as such, didn’t have scanner facilities. I’d never bothered upgrading the old gateway simply because few people ventured down this part of the Barra—it was too close to one of the rifts.

  The grate slid noisily open. Penny lunged forward, but I grabbed her, holding her back.

  “Hush,” I said, as she opened her mouth to protest. “Wait until we know it’s safe.”

  She pouted. I ignored her and listened to the sounds of a city stirring to life, sorting through the layers, trying to find anything that might indicate someone was close. There was nothing.

  “Okay,” I said and released her.

  She ran out but stopped several feet away from the entrance, sucking in the air as if desperate to fill her lungs. I snorted softly. It didn’t smell that bad underground.

  I glanced back at the ghosts. “Keep this entrance safe for me. I’ll be back by sunset.”

  Hands patted me good-bye—although both Cat and Bear were already outside, waiting. They’d always been more adventurous than the younger ones, preferring to be with me whenever possible rather than stay in the home that was also their tomb. I wasn’t entirely sure whether it was due to our deeper connection, or whether it was simply a matter of their being older than the rest. Either way, I was always happy to have their company.

  I dragged Jonas off the chair, then walked out of our sanctuary. Once the grate had closed, I turned and looked around.

  Sunrise tinted the sky with rose and lavender, and the scent of rain was still in the air. It would be brilliant if it did rain again, because the inhabitants of Central and Chaos would be too busy scurrying for cover to worry about the three of us. It also meant there would be less chance of our being seen returning.

  Central’s metal drawbridge was still raised against the night, and the nearby rail siding was filled with pods that were shadowed and silent. No one would be close to them until the sun had fully risen. Humanity had become very fearful of darkness—and with good reason.

  My gaze went to Chaos, and a shudder went through me. Even in full sunlight it was a place of shadows; in the half-light of a dawn barely risen, it rose forbiddingly above me, a grimy, gritty mass that blighted the metal to which it clung.

  I glanced down at Penny. “Where does this Nuri live?”

  “In Chaos,” she answered.

  “Where in Chaos? It’s a big place.” And not someplace I wanted to wander about aimlessly. Humans and shifters might now live together in relative peace, even in habitats like Chaos, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a dangerous place for strangers to venture.

  She hesitated. “Chang Puk district.”

  Which wasn’t overly helpful given how little I knew about Chaos and its districts. “What level is that?”

  “Five.”

  So midlevel. Which meant it was more than likely this Nuri had some standing. In Chaos, the higher the level you lived on, the more power or wealth you had. It was the same in Central, except that it was the city’s heart—and the safety that came with being as far away from the walls as was possible—that drew the wealthy. “Where on five?”

  Rather unhelpfully, she shrugged.

  Irritation surged, but I forced it aside. She was only a child, even if she did sometimes seem far older. “We can’t just wander around, Penny. That would be dangerous.”

  And make us a target. If you didn’t move with purpose through the various levels, you were inviting trouble from the gangs and thugs who ran a good portion of the place.

  Her gaze drifted to Jonas and her expression became distant yet oddly intent. After a moment, she said, “Nuri lives in Run Turk Alley.”

  Which was the mercenary district, as far as I knew. In some ways that was better than the upper levels, where the whores, gang leaders, and drug kingpins lived. At least I had a chance of blending in with the mercenaries. Even though I’d been bred to infiltrate and seduce, I would never have passed as a whore. There was a coarseness—a rapacity—in the ladies who traded their wares within Chaos that I doubted I could achieve or fake.

  I shifted Jonas’s weight to a more comfortable position, then resignedly moved forward. There were only two entrances into Chaos—this south one, and the other at the far north end. A single roadway that followed the sweep of the curtain wall connected the two, but there were a myriad of lanes and footpaths branching off this main artery, as well as a slew of stairs and ladders that connected the various levels.

  Penny trailed behind me, as did the two ghosts. Their thoughts were a mix of excitement and dread, and I had no doubt there would be lo
ts of stories shared and embellished with those who’d remained behind. Penny’s expression gave away little, which again struck me as odd. Given she’d never been to this place before, I would have expected at least a little fear. Chaos was not exactly the most welcoming of places to look at.

  As we neared the little footbridge that crossed the two-feet-wide remnant of what once had been the main water source for Central’s founders, the air began to shimmer and spark. The energy that caressed my skin was dark and unhealthy in feel, and unease crawled through me. Though this rift hadn’t moved in years, that didn’t mean it couldn’t or wouldn’t explode into action.

  Didn’t mean something couldn’t or wouldn’t come through it, despite the growing strength of daylight.

  I’d seen some of those things. I had no desire to fight them.

  I increased my pace, and Penny trotted along after me, seemingly oblivious to the danger that waited not very far away. But then, few humans or shifters could actually see them. It seemed to be something only those who were either psychically or magically gifted could do.

  The day was growing brighter, casting splashes of red and gold across the silver curtain wall. Or, at least, along the flat front of it. There was little enough silver visible across the rest of it for dawn to paint, covered as it was by Chaos.

  We strode up the hill toward the six-feet-wide gap that was the south entrance. On either side were the garishly decorated metal containers that made up much of Chaos’s ground level, and which supported the weight of everything above it. There were no windows or ventilation slots cut into any of these; they were basically little more than metal boxes that were used as shops, factories, and trading posts, and they found life only once the sun was up. The inhabitants of Chaos might show little concern about the vampires, but they didn’t invite trouble, either. When dusk came, those who worked here retreated to at least the next level, and all ladders and stairs were either drawn up or locked down. It didn’t often help, but the illusion of safety was better than nothing, I suppose.