The Forever Song

  The lab was quiet as we scaled the chain-link fence and made our way toward the long white building at the end of the lot. Nothing moved; no rabids roamed around the lab, at least not on the outside. The windows were empty and dark, but the closer we got to the building, the more convinced I became that Sarren was watching us. Kanin avoided the front doors, taking us around the back, though I didn’t know why we bothered with stealth. If Sarren knew we were here, we might as well kick down the doors and start killing anything in our way.

  Instead, Kanin used his elbow to break a window, somehow managing to do it silently, and we slipped into the dark rooms of a madman’s lair.

  Once inside, Kanin turned to Zeke.

  “Where to now?” he asked softly, as I scanned the room warily. It was white and sterile, with long counters lined with many small things that glinted in the darkness. I shivered, remembering another lab, another set of precise, sharp instruments, winking at me from a pool of Zeke’s blood.

  “I’m not sure,” Zeke whispered back, unaware of my sudden, gruesome recollections. “But if I had to guess, I would say the basement level. That’s where the scientists did a lot of their experiments. Where I stayed most of the time when I was here.”

  My stomach turned, thinking of all the things they might have done to Zeke, but Kanin only nodded. “Then lead the way,” he said, nodding to the door. “And let’s be careful.”

  We slipped into the lab, following Zeke down endless narrow hallways, through white sterile rooms filled with counters, computers and strange machinery. Nothing looked broken or out of place. There were no bodies, no blood, no hints that anything was out of the ordinary. Except for the emptiness and eerie stillness, you wouldn’t guess that anything was wrong.

  And yet, the lab still made my skin crawl. It was too clean. Everything was overly white and gleaming and polished, smelling faintly of chemicals and disinfectant. Not only sterilized, but lifeless. My world—the world outside—was broken and falling apart, full of rust and rubble and decay. But, despite that, it was still alive. This place was almost offensively pristine and undamaged, too perfect to be real. It felt like a hospital, cold and antiseptic and dispassionate, as if terrible things had happened here but were quickly scrubbed away and forgotten.

  Somehow, it was even more disturbing than if we’d opened that door to find blood-drenched walls and mutilated corpses. I expected that of Sarren. Carnage, not cold, polished rooms and silence. He was changing the rules on me, and I didn’t like it.

  Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who thought so.

  “Huh,” Jackal remarked, his voice echoing weirdly down the empty hall. “Well, that’s kind of disappointing. We come all this way to kill Sarren, and he can’t even be bothered to leave a few traps or bleeders wandering around? I’m almost offended.”

  “Maybe he didn’t have time,” I mused hopefully. “Or maybe he’s not here after all.”

  Kanin shook his head.

  “No.” The Master vampire gazed around the silent lab, narrowing his eyes. “Do not be deceived by this tranquility. Whatever Sarren was planning here, he needed to ensure that he was not interrupted. That’s why he set the rabids loose on Eden. With all the chaos outside, he could work in peace, unchallenged and undisturbed. He has had plenty of time to prepare for our arrival. I expect we will discover what he has in store for us anytime now.”

  “Let’s hope so, old man,” Jackal said, and casually knocked a case of vials to the floor, where they shattered on impact, scattering bits of glass across the tiles. I tensed, half expecting the room to erupt into chaos with the sudden noise, but everything remained as still as ever. Zeke shot him a look of annoyance, and Jackal grinned. “I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing.”

  We came to the elevators and found they still worked, though both Kanin and Zeke were leery of going into a small, enclosed metal box with nowhere to escape to. It would be the perfect spot for a trap, an explosive, or another nasty surprise. It would be, Zeke pointed out, the spot where he would set up a trap for vampires; a mine on the underside of the box would be lethal in such a tight, cramped space. Or if they decided to climb down the shaft, one spark in a metal tube filled with hydrogen would produce a firestorm that would turn even a group of vampires to ash instantaneously.

  That pretty much convinced us to take the stairs. Though we were still extremely cautious as we made our way down, remembering that the last time we’d been in a tight stairwell looking for Sarren, it had exploded. But nothing happened, no explosions, no traps, nothing. We came to a door, opened it easily, and stepped into a labyrinth of dark, empty hallways. The silence was deafening here, and Jackal turned to Zeke.

  “Are you sure you have the right lab, puppy?”

  Zeke nodded, leading us forward. “I’m sure.”

  The door shut behind us with a hiss, plunging the corridors into absolute darkness. My vampire sight shifted to compensate, and we trailed Zeke through the long, narrow halls that crisscrossed each other and angled around corners, passing swinging doors and pitch-black rooms, until I was completely lost.

  “Getting tired of this, puppy,” Jackal muttered as we turned down another hallway, identical to all the others. “Do the bloodbags here have some sort of complex, or do they like living like rats in a maze? Feels like we’re walking in circles.”

  “I know where I’m going,” Zeke replied coolly.

  “Good to know. Maybe there’ll be a piece of cheese waiting for you at the end.”

  “Did you hear that?” I whispered into the stillness.

  Everyone froze. Silence descended, throbbing in my ears. But just ahead, around the next corner, I heard the faintest swish of a door closing.

  My skin prickled. Weapons out, we edged up to the corner, Kanin leading this time, and peered down the hall. A simple gray door sat at the end of the corridor, swinging slowly into place. We weren’t alone down here.

  Kanin motioned us to stay put, glided silently to the door, and pushed it open to look through the crack. I gripped the hilt of my sword as he peered into the darkness, waiting for something to explode through the frame or yank him through the door. After a moment, Kanin glanced back and motioned us forward. Behind me, Jackal let out a sigh.

  “Aw,” he said, walking forward. “That’s disappointing. I was so hoping something would jump out and go ‘boo.’ I’d sell my city to see the old man shriek like a little—”

  Something slammed into Jackal with a scream.

  Jackal hit the ground and instantly rolled, trying to get to his feet, as whatever had jumped him screamed again and tore savagely at his back. It was a rabid, blank-eyed and mindless, and the stench of rot, decay and blood suddenly filled the corridor. I yelled and brought my katana down, aiming for the spindly body, but the rabid dodged and leaped back with shocking speed, faster than I’d seen one move before. Raising its head, it bared jagged fangs and hissed at me, and my stomach twisted in horror.

  It’s eyes were gone. The white, pupil-less orbs had been clawed to ragged holes, along with the rest of its face. Deep gouges, bloody and black, ran down its cheeks, jaw, forehead, and eyeholes, and its chest had been scratched to ribbons. It screamed and leaped at me, raking bloody talons at my face and neck, and I slashed at it almost desperately. The katana met a bony forearm and sheared it off at the elbow, but the rabid didn’t even flinch. Zeke lunged forward and swung his machete, sinking it deep into the monster’s neck, nearly severing it. The rabid whirled like a snake and darted forward, snapping and flailing, and Zeke had to scramble back to avoid the claws. One talon struck his face, laying his cheek open, and I roared.

  Leaping at its back, I raised my weapon and brought it down with my all my strength, aiming for the rabid’s spine. The katana edge sliced through bone, flesh and muscle before striking the floor, and the rabid collapsed in a spatter of blood, severed from the waist down.

  And still, it continued to fight, long arms dragging itself across the bloody floor, heedless that it was
missing its lower half. Reaching for me, it gave one last, chilling scream, right before Jackal’s fire ax hammered into its skull, crushing it like a melon, and it finally stopped moving.

  I shuddered and staggered away from the body, resisting the urge to bare my fangs and kick it away as hard as I could. Was this what Sarren was doing? Turning rabids into…whatever that was? But why? For what purpose, other than completely freaking me out?

  “Well, that was…interesting.” Jackal’s tone didn’t quite match the look on his face, angry and terrifying. His fangs were bared, lips curled back in a silent snarl. Shouldering the fire ax, he composed himself and turned to glare at Kanin, who stood a few feet away. The Master vampire had probably come as soon as the rabid hit, but everything had happened so fast, the rabid was dead before he could join us. “Thanks for the help, old man,” he sneered. “Next time, I think I’ll be the one to investigate strange doorways while you stay back here with the runts.” He rubbed at his neck, wincing, and I saw a smear of blood on his fingers as he lowered them.

  “You’re bleeding,” I said, suddenly alarmed, though I didn’t know why. “Did that thing bite you?”

  “Aw, sister, are you worried about me?” Jackal wiped the blood on his duster. “Your concern is touching, but this isn’t my first rabid bite. I’ll be fine, trust me.”

  “But…something was wrong with it!” I remembered the bleeders of New Covington, ripping out their eyes as they attacked. I remembered the vampires infected with their blood, rotting away from the inside. If it was the same with the rabids… “What if it was sick?” I told Jackal. “What if you’re—”

  “What would you do, anyway?” Jackal challenged, sounding impatient. “Got a cure up your sleeve? Or are we wasting time talking about this?” I blinked at him, and he waved his hand. “It’s done, sister. You wanna help me? Find Sarren and hold him down so I can rip his heart out through his teeth. Let’s keep moving.”

  I looked at Zeke, wondering if he had any ideas, but shrieks rang out behind us, and two more rabids skittered past the end of the hall, vanishing around a corner. My stomach churned. There were more of them out there, in the hallways with us. And, vampire or no, I did not want to face those things again. Fighting rabids was one thing; fighting rabids that clawed themselves to bloody strips, moved insanely fast, and didn’t die unless you literally hacked them to pieces was something else altogether.

  “Zeke,” I hissed. “Get us out of here now.”

  He nodded, and we slipped quietly into another hallway, moving fast, as the shrieks and hisses of Sarren’s rabids began to echo all around us.

  We managed to avoid running into any of the monsters as Zeke led us to a pair of doors at the end of the hall. Moving swiftly to the frame, he tried pushing back the doors, but they didn’t budge. Zeke frowned.

  “Locked,” he muttered, and narrowed his eyes. “This is it. There’s no other exit from this room.” His face grew dark, and he stepped back. “Sarren is here. He has to be.”

  Moving him aside, Kanin put his shoulder to the wood, slammed into it a couple times, and the doors flew open. We started forward, but Zeke suddenly grabbed my hand, making me look back. His expression was hard, intense, as his gaze met mine.

  “Remember, Allie,” he whispered, squeezing my fingers. “Whatever it takes, you have to stop him. Even if that means going through me.”

  Apprehension flared, and defiance, but Zeke let me go and turned away before I could answer, following Kanin and Jackal through the doors. Raising my weapon, vowing it would not come to that, I stepped into the darkness.

  Cautiously, we eased into the shadowy room, weapons out. The room beyond was similar to the ones we’d seen: tile floors, long counters, strange instruments. Everything looked as coldly pristine as before.

  But Sarren had definitely been here. The place reeked of blood, though there were no traces of it or the insane vampire anywhere in the room. The Hunger stirred, and I shoved it back impatiently. I had to stay focused. If Sarren was close, I had to be ready for whatever he had planned.

  Kanin looked to Jackal and waved at him to follow. He went deeper into the room, heading to the left. Zeke nodded to me, then tilted his head to the right side of the door. We stalked along the walls, scanning the darkness, looking for any signs of Sarren or whatever horrors he might have left in his wake.

  A stainless-steel door, polished until it gave a warped reflection of reality in the dim light, dominated the end of the room. It had a simple pull-lever latch, like a meat locker or one of the vampire Princes’ blood storage facilities. There was a place for a padlock on the latch, but instead of a lock, a screwdriver had been shoved into the openings and bent into a crude C shape.

  I looked at Zeke, and he looked back. We didn’t need to speak. Someone had wanted this door to stay closed. That someone could only have been Sarren. He slipped his pistol from its holster and raised it, taking a bead on the door. I hefted my katana in my right hand, and reached out with my left. With a silent snarl, I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the screwdriver and pulled. With a tortured squeal of metal, the shaft straightened, tearing free from the locking mechanism. My fingers closed around the latch.

  I opened the door, and a body tumbled out of the refrigerator, landing at my feet with a gasp of pain.

  Chapter 17

  “Dr. Richardson!” Zeke exclaimed, hurrying forward. I backed up as Zeke pulled the human away from the fridge, sitting him against the counter. He was an older human, with hair as white as his lab coat and sharp black eyes. His skin was pale, his lips blue as he gasped and coughed, sucking in deep, shuddering breaths. Zeke knelt beside him, waiting patiently until the fit had passed, and the human looked up at him in surprise.

  “Mr….Crosse?” the man wheezed, staring at Zeke as if he couldn’t quite believe it. Zeke gave a faint smile, and the human shook his head. “You’re back. When…did you get here?”

  “A couple days ago,” Zeke answered and leaned forward. “I came as soon as I could. Dr. Richardson, what happened here? Where is Sarren?”

  “Sarren?”

  “The vampire,” I supplied. “Tall, bald, scarred-up face?”

  Wants to unleash a supervirus to destroy the world?

  “Sarren.” The scientist’s face, though pale, drained of its remaining color. “So that’s the demon’s name.” His eyes glazed over, unseeing, as he stared at the wall. For a moment, I thought he might faint. “God help us all.”

  “He was here, then,” Zeke prodded, and the human nodded, still in a daze. “Where is he now?” The man didn’t reply, and Zeke leaned forward even more, his voice calm but firm.

  “Doctor, there’s no time. Please, tell us what you know.” “He never told us,” the scientist whispered. Abruptly, he turned and grabbed Zeke’s arm, his expression pleading, almost wild. “He never told us anything,” he insisted, “except what he wanted us to do. When we finally realized what was happening, what we were helping him create…” The man shuddered so violently the back of his head hit the counter, but he didn’t seem to notice. Zeke gently pried the hand off his arm, his gaze intent.

  “What was he creating?”

  “We tried to stop him,” Richardson said, still staring at nothing. “We tried to resist, to get him to see reason, but he was insane, raving mad. He…he started killing people, civilians, that he took from the city. Said he would torture and kill someone every hour, and make us watch, unless we agreed to help.” Dr. Richardson covered his face with his hands. “What could we do?” he moaned. “There were children in the group.”

  Zeke went motionless, his eyes and expression dark. I knew what he was thinking, and hoped, desperately, that it was not the case.

  “Dr. Richardson,” Kanin said, his voice low and deliberate, “you have been through much, but we need to know. What, exactly, were you helping with? What was Sarren creating?”

  “Requiem.”

  The word was a whisper, barely audible. But it sent a cold lance th
rough my insides, freezing everything around me. I remembered. I could see Sarren, looming before me with bright, mad eyes, his voice a slow croon. The requiem has started, and when the last melody plays, the only applause will be sweet, eternal silence. Dr. Richardson’s voice echoed dully, seeming to come from far away. “He called it…Requiem.”

  For a moment, there was quiet. Then Kanin’s voice came again, low and calm, as the Master vampire stepped forward. “And what is Requiem?”

  Dr. Richardson slumped against the counter, rubbing his eyes. Dropping his hands, he took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for a confession.

  “It’s a virus,” the scientist said, confirming what we all knew. “A mutated strain of the original Red Lung virus.” He seemed to regain his composure; his expression became less wild and staring, though his voice remained grave. “I’d never seen it before, but somehow, this version has mutated so that it affects both live and dead cells. So, not only is it fatal to humans…”

  “It affects vampires, as well,” Kanin finished, and the scientist nodded wearily. “Was anything changed? Did Sarren mutate it further?”

  Dr. Richardson wiped his brow, then continued in an overly clinical voice. “There are a lot of technical terms and scientific jargon, but I’ll try to explain this as simply as I can,” he said, glancing at me, as if I wouldn’t understand if he used a lot of big words. I bristled, but kept silent as he continued.

  “The mutated strain the vampire brought in could be transmitted via airborne pathogens,” Dr. Thomas began, “much like the original Red Lung virus, or the common cold. That’s how Red Lung spread so quickly sixty years ago. But the mutated virus could not be transmitted from a live host to an undead one except through internal consumption of the host’s blood.”

  “Meaning, the vampire would have to bite the infected human to get sick,” I said.