Black City
Page 29

She lets out a moan and shudders as a wave of pain washes over her, then another, then another.
“Mom,” I say, my voice choked.
I have to do something, but what can I do? There’s no medicine to help her, no cure.
Evangeline rushes over to her, unafraid.
“Evangeline, no!” I say.
“I’m already infected, Ash,” she reminds me.
Evangeline tenderly strokes Mom’s limp hair, making soothing noises. I’m so grateful she’s here and able to comfort my mom when I can’t.
“Thank you,” I say to Evangeline.
I kneel down beside them, keeping out of Mom’s biting reach.
Another wave of pain grips Mom, and she wails. Evangeline holds her.
“Annora used to sing to the Wraths when she was nursing them in the ward,” she says to me. “It distracts them. Sing to her, Ash.”
My mind’s blank. I can’t think of any songs. Then one tune comes to mind, a lullaby Mom used to sing to me when I was little. The words to the song slowly come back to me, and I sing it softly to her.
“Hush, hush, don’t you cry. Listen to my lullaby. Sleep, sleep, dream of me. I am always watching over thee. Love, love, I love you true. I will always be there for you.”
Mom sighs, and the shuddering stops. It seems to have helped a little. She attempts a smile, but can’t quite manage it.
“Ash . . . ,” Mom whispers.
She stretches out a clawed hand toward me.
I hesitate.
She’s your mom.
I cautiously reach out my own hand, and our fingers meet. I smile, but it’s bittersweet, because we both know this might be the last time we touch.
26
ASH
USUALLY I’M NOT KEEN to get to school, but I’m desperate to see Natalie. I pick up Beetle on the way and hurry toward the town square, not taking my usual detour down City End to visit the Boundary Wall.
“How did it go with Mr. Tubs yesterday?” Beetle asks.
We didn’t get a chance to talk about it last night, since Sebastian turned up with Natalie. I tell him what happened, about how Natalie and Evangeline are going to run some tests on the Golden Haze, feeling a bit useless that there’s nothing more I can do to help.
“I hope they work it out soon, before they try to pin the deaths on any more Darklings,” Beetle says, reminding me of my arrest last week.
“I’m sure Natalie will work it out,” I say.
“Have you heard from her?” Beetle asks as we enter the town square.
“No.”
“Well, maybe she went straight to bed after leaving the Park last night,” Beetle says.
“Maybe,” I say.
Nearly a thousand protesters have congregated in the plaza outside the school, holding placards high in the air, some supporting Rose’s Law, others urging the Sentry government to free the Darklings. Beetle’s aunt chants slogans into a megaphone, riling up the crowd, her long dreadlocks swaying with every word.
“Don’t these people ever go home?” I snarl as we push our way through.
“At least they care,” Beetle says defensively. “They’re trying to get the Boundary Wall down, which is more than I can say for you.”
I turn on him. “You know what? Go to hell. What exactly have you done to bring the wall down? All Humans for Unity does is paint placards and spout useless chants. I’m sure the Sentry government’s quaking in their boots.”
“We do more than that,” he says.
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“You’ll see. I have to go. Have fun at school.” He goes over to his aunt.
What did he mean, you’ll see?
I wait for Natalie on the school steps, passing the TV reporter Juno Jones and her camera crew along the way. Day waits by the entrance too, holding a pile of books. She opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it again.
“If you have something to say to me, just say it,” I snap.
“I’m sorry,” she blurts out.
“What?” Of all the things she could’ve said, I wasn’t expecting that.
“I was wrong to accuse you of getting Beetle hooked on Haze.”
“Yeah, you were,” I say.
“I’m trying to apologize, you jerk.”
I manage a faint smile. “Some apology.”
Day smiles back. “Sorry. I mean it. Friends?”
I hesitate, then nod. It’s what Natalie would want. “Friends.”
We wait for Natalie in silence, things still awkward between us despite our truce. A minute later, the sound of horses’ hooves echoes throughout the town square, and a familiar black carriage draws up outside the school. Sebastian emerges and offers his hand to Natalie, who refuses it. She steps out of the carriage, sweeping her beautiful blond curls away from her face, briefly revealing the two puncture marks on her neck. Guilt twists inside me. I can’t judge from her expression if she’s still mad at me or not.
A fight suddenly breaks out near the Boundary Wall, and Sebastian leaves to deal with it while Natalie walks up the school steps toward us. Juno Jones blocks the path and thrusts a microphone in Natalie’s face.
“Ms. Buchanan! Can we have a second of your time? How are the students coping after the death of Chris Thompson?”
“We’re coping as well as can be expected,” Natalie says irritably.
“Why was your mother at his funeral yesterday? Did you know Chris well?”
Natalie shakes her head, trying to edge around Juno.
“Chris was the sixth teenager to die from Golden Haze, and a dozen more are now in critical condition in the hospital. Why do you think more people your age are turning to drugs?”
Natalie freezes. “More people are sick?”
“Yes, and those are the only ones we know about—”
BOOM!
A loud blast echoes around the town square. The shock waves knock me to my knees, and I cover my head as shards of glass rain down on us from the school’s shattered windows. My ears ring like there are church bells chiming inside them. I move my head, and my ears pop; sounds assault my senses: panicked screams, fractured glass, heavy stones falling.
Part of the Boundary Wall has been destroyed, revealing the Legion ghetto on the other side. A thousand pale, famished Darklings stare back at us. Everything becomes deathly still, like the world is holding its breath. The Darklings don’t move at first, perhaps from shock or fear of reprisal.
Then the scent of human blood hits them.
The Darklings howl.
They rush toward the hole in the wall, lured by freedom and smell of hot blood.
“Ash . . .” Natalie’s voice is just a whisper, but it’s like a siren’s call spurring my body into action.
I rush down the steps and scoop her up in my arms.
“Are you hurt?” I ask.
“No. Where’s Day?” she says.
“I’m here!” Day hurries toward us. Her usually immaculate black hair is matted with dust and blood, and her thin face is scratched, but otherwise she’s okay.
“I need to find Beetle,” I say to them. “Go inside.”
Natalie shakes her head. “I have to make sure Sebastian’s all right.”
All three of us push our way through the crowd, heading toward the Boundary Wall where I last saw Beetle and Sebastian.
Pandemonium has broken out.
People push past us as they frantically try to get away from the Darklings pouring through the gap in the wall. Everywhere I look, people are screaming as they’re grabbed by the Darklings and fed upon. Terrified Sentry guards draw their swords and start slashing wildly, striking Darklings and people alike. Blood is everywhere, intoxicating, delicious. Hunger roars in me. I want to join the other Darklings. I want to feed.
“Ash, he’s here!” Natalie yanks my arm, bringing me out of my bloodlust.
Beetle is lying unconscious on the ground, surrounded by dust and debris. His face is partially burned, and shrapnel sticks out of a gory wound on his stomach. He must’ve been close to the explosion to get shrapnel in him. He probably planted the bomb.
“He’s not breathing!” Day says hysterically.
Natalie administers CPR, but it doesn’t work; Beetle just continues to get paler. He needs oxygen and fast.
Day sobs uncontrollably. “Don’t leave me, Matthias, please. I love you, please . . .”
“Ash, your blood!” Natalie says.
“What . . . ?” It suddenly dawns on me what she means. The Trypanosoma vampirum in my blood might resuscitate him—it feeds oxygen to my organs, after all. It might work for him too?
I sink my fangs into my wrist, tearing into the flesh until the blood pours freely from my veins. Natalie lifts up Beetle’s shirt to reveal the open wound on his stomach.
“What are you doing?” Day gasps.
“Saving Beetle’s life,” I reply.
I hold my wrist over the wound on Beetle’s stomach and allow my blood to seep into his body, aiming for the celiac artery. I just pray this works. We wait with bated breath. After what seems like an eternity but can’t be more than thirty seconds, color starts to return to Beetle’s face. It’s working! I keep my blood flowing through him, even when I start feeling weak and know I should stop.
All around us, people are still screaming and frantically pushing each other out of the way as another stampede of Darklings floods through the wall. If we don’t get Beetle off the ground soon, we’re at risk of getting trampled.
Beetle lets out a weak groan, his eyes flickering.
“He’s alive!” Day says.
“Natalie, thank heavens, there you are!” Sebastian runs over to us.
He quickly takes in the scene.
“Seb, take Beetle into the school. He needs medical attention,” Natalie says as she bandages my bleeding wrist. “I’ll be right behind you.”
“I’m not leaving you here,” he says.
“We don’t have time to argue! Beetle’s hurt,” she replies. “Please? He’s my friend.”
Sebastian relents and hoists Beetle into his arms, carrying him toward the school, Day following. They’re soon lost in the sea of fleeing people. Natalie helps me to my feet, slinging my arm around her neck for support. I’m still feeling weak.
A Darkling lunges for a woman in front of us, and she shrieks as the creature sinks its fangs into her neck. The people around her panic and run back in our direction, toward the wall. We’re immediately caught in a surge of bodies.
“Ash!” Natalie screams as we’re separated.
The wave of bodies pushes her through the gap in the wall. Clawed, bony Darkling hands grab at her flesh and drag her deeper into the Legion territory.
“Natalie!” I force my way to the wall in pursuit of her.
She’s surrounded by Darklings, their exposed skin crackling and hissing in the sunlight, but they don’t seem to care. They edge closer, their fangs dripping with venom.
“Get away from her!” I yell.
They turn to look at me for a brief moment, then glance away, disinterested. I’m part Darkling, after all, not food.
“Natalie, don’t move,” I say quietly.
The Darkling closest to her sticks out his snakelike tongue, tasting the air. He tilts his head to one side, and the other Darklings do the same. They don’t move, just stand there watching her.
I sense someone looking at me and tear my eyes away from the Darklings. Evangeline stands twenty feet away, shadowed by derelict buildings. Her inky-black hair whips around her face in the wind. She steps into the hazy sunlight and lowers the hood of her blue robe, baring her fangs at Natalie.
“Leave her alone,” I say to Evangeline.
She lets out a low, malicious laugh. “I don’t think so, Ash. You may have forgiven this human for what her mother and the rest of the Sentry government did to us, but I haven’t.”
“Ash,” Natalie whispers.
How can I protect Natalie? Use the Sight! I stop and fix my eyes on Natalie, focusing my mind on one thought:
Mine.
My vision turns deep red as the Sight takes effect, and the air around me fills with a potent pheromone that warns the other Darklings to leave my prey alone. It seems to work, as the Darklings slink back into their shacks, but Evangeline stays where she is.
Evangeline laughs. “Are you really trying to use the Sight on me again?”
What does she mean again?
Then it hits me.
“You were the Darkling at the museum,” I say.
Evangeline looks spitefully at Natalie. “Did you like the little gifts I left for you?”
“What gifts?” Natalie says.
“That cat and bodyguard of yours,” Evangeline replies.
“You killed Malcolm and Truffles? Why? What did I ever do to you?” Natalie says.
“You stole my heart!” Evangeline yells.
The world becomes still.
Natalie has Evangeline’s heart?
“How is it even possible?” I say to Evangeline.
“A Tracker found my family during the war and killed them right in front of me,” Evangeline says, slowly walking toward us. “He took me back to the laboratory in Sentry headquarters, where they stripped me naked, shaved my head and threw me into a cell like a dog. They experimented on me. They did terrible things, Ash.”
“You’re the child in my dreams,” Natalie exclaims.
I can picture the scene. Evangeline as a young girl, terrified, alone, strapped to a gurney as she’s experimented on by some sick, sadistic doctor.
“Then one day the Emissary came into the laboratory, wailing, sobbing, saying her younger daughter was dying. Natalie needed a heart transplant, but the rebels had taken over the hospital,” Evangeline continues. “So they had to make do with what they had in the laboratory. They had me. As a twin-blood, my heart’s compatible with a human’s, and it’s not like I needed it, right? A twin-blood doesn’t need a heart to survive.”