Selah tried to imagine this. Vampires racing through mountain passes at night, impervious to the cold and snow. Vampires spreading out over the desert, into New Mexico, Arizona, Texas. Up through the vast grasslands of Montana and North Dakota. "But ... they can drive. Vampires are smart. What if they just jump in cars?"
McKnight snorted. "Then we're fucked. All it would take is a handful of them driving into Chicago, New York, and DC. Game over. That would be like fifty million vampires on the East Coast in under a week. But I don't think that will happen. The way they were fighting tonight. They were crazed. Like animals. Just running at us. There was no strategy there, no sign of group tactics. If that's how they're operating, I don't see them jumping in cars and driving anywhere."
"Yeah," said Selah, not sure, but wanting to believe it. "Yeah. Maybe."
"We're going to put down in 29 Palms and I'm going to do my best to get us out of there as quickly as possible. My orders are specific. I'm to get you to that research center in Colorado. People are waiting for you there."
"What? Who?"
"Friends of your General Adams, I'm guessing. I don't know."
"How are we getting there?"
"I don't know. If Mr. Warrant Officer up there doesn't throw too much of a fit, I should be able to relay my orders and commandeer a vehicle. Things are going to be insane on the ground. Hopefully, that will work in our favor."
"Thank you," Selah said before she could stop herself.
McKnight stared at her, and then looked away. Selah hugged herself, the adrenaline long gone and leaving her shivering as the small copter speared through the night. In her mind, she pictured a wave of red blood rising up behind them, a tsunami of gore threatening to break and wash over the West.
They touched down into a maelstrom of activity. The airstrip in the 29 Palms Marine base was ablaze with light as all manner of aircraft landed and others took off. Selah got the impression the pilot was trying to show off, impress them with his dangerously fast descent. She held on tighter, but McKnight didn't seem to care. They dropped like a stone when given the signal, but alighted on the ground with the softest of touches, a feather coming to rest on the palm of a great gritty hand. McKnight didn't waste any time. She leaped out of the copter and immediately strode away, shucking the headphones and returning salutes as she headed toward one of the many hangars that lined the airstrip.
The pilot leaped right out after her, spluttering and even more furious. He glared at Selah and hurried after McKnight. Men were already swarming around the helicopter. A small boxy vehicle drove up to refuel it. Selah undid her buckles and climbed out stiffly. Hugging herself, she looked up at the vast sky and studied the line of lights that were approaching to land. Looked over as a great plane picked up speed and flung itself down the final stretch of the runway and then rose into the sky.
How was the world reacting to what had just happened? She needed an Omni. Was there live footage? Panic in the cities? How much did the public know about the blood thralls? Selah heard thin yells as soldiers called out to each other. The roar and whir of engines. The vast spangling of the Milky Way overhead, great and cosmic and making all this activity below seem so insignificant. She hugged herself tighter and stepped aside to allow another soldier to work on the copter.
Nobody was watching on her. She could slip away into the night. Could simply disappear. Find her own way out, one solitary girl amongst all these soldiers. But no. There would be a perimeter somewhere. And where would she go? Get lost in the desert, alone and freezing? Best to wait for McKnight. As much as the Sergeant disliked her, she seemed sincere in her desire to get her to this research center. Selah frowned, ducked her chin. A military research center. That sounded like a lot of fun.
Five minutes later, a Humvee came roaring up. McKnight parked it savagely next to Selah and gestured for her to get in. Selah did so, yanking open the door and hoisting herself up onto the stiff seat. McKnight tossed her a thick leather jacket with a sheepskin collar and she pulled it on. It was delicious and thick, with a faint tang of cigar smoke mixed in with the rich smell of leather. Well-worn, soft, but immediately warming. She zipped it up and shoved her hands into its pockets.
"You good? I've received the clearance I need. It's a straight shot from here to the Rockies." McKnight waved her hand and the windscreen came to life, lighting up with a glowing green contour map.
Selah sat forward and studied the map. The airstrip was central across the glass, long and oblique, and on it a number of neon red and yellow icons were moving, triangles and squares, small series of code numbers listed beneath each.
"How did you do that?" Selah stared at McKnight's hands. She wasn't wearing tethered FingerTips.
"Military hardware." McKnight looked at the windshield. "Navigator. Current location to Mountain Sorrel Pass, Colorado." The image on the screen zoomed out smoothly, and a thick red line appeared arching up from California, clipping the upper left corner of Arizona and passing diagonally through Utah into Colorado, where it stabbed into the Rockies and curled at the very end into a tight spiral.
877 miles
, flashed the screen,
Estimated Drive Time:
15 hours, 10 minutes
. McKnight grunted. It was just past eleven at night. She slid into first gear and they rumbled forward.
Selah stared out the window. She wanted to call Mama B. Wanted to let her know what was going on, hear her voice, see her face. She missed her father, missed her friends. After her experiences with Sawiskera's blood, she had thought herself beyond fear, beyond doubt, thought that she would never feel lonely again. But the threat of the Blood Thralls proved her wrong. The darkness above and outside the base was vast and cold, and she felt small and insignificant before it. They needed her vaccine, now more than ever. That was probably why they had pulled her free, she thought. Somebody had finally realized just how much danger they faced and decided to not throw away the chance at salvation that her blood promised.
A great hangar bay slid past on her right, and she stared at a platoon of men as they suited up, pulling on armor, pouches, and helmets, locking and loading their guns. Beyond them, more men were studying great screens, pointing out at maps and lines of icons and glowing symbols. Then it was gone and she was staring at the great desert beyond, a vast expanse of unknowable darkness. McKnight drove down the length of the airstrip, and then turned off and onto a two lane road that left all the activity behind. Car after Humvee after covered truck rumbled past, heading toward the strip. They were the only ones driving away.
Selah felt warmth finally begin to sink into her, building up like a delicate ecosystem under the shell of the jacket. She buried her chin into the sheep fur of the collar, and watched the brief expanse of road before them as it rumbled continuously into sight, a patch brought into bright relief by the powerful headlights. Fifteen hours. A glance at McKnight showed that the Sergeant was in no mood to talk. She sat erect, lower lip stuck out, nostrils flared as she stared balefully at the road. Selah closed her eyes. She spent a few minutes simply feeling the Humvee jostle and vibrate beneath her, and then slipped away into sleep, her thoughts and concerns and panic swallowed up by the vast ocean of fatigue that arose to claim her.
Selah awoke as the Humvee ground to a stop. Opening her eyes, she blinked blearily at the gas station outside the window. McKnight opened her door and climbed out and Selah struggled to sit up. Her mouth tasted awful and her eyes were almost gummed shut. Yawning hugely, she blinked away tears and peered around. It was early morning. Dry desert extended away toward a rim of scrubby low hills to one side, and toward the horizon on the other, where it was met by a small wall of purple mountains. She pushed the door open and slid out of her seat, down to the ground. The asphalt crunched underfoot, gritty and particulate, and she groaned as she stretched, her body a mass of aches and pains.
Slowly working her head around, she stepped away from the Humvee and walked to the edge of the station, to where the asphalt died and became desert. There, she stared at the distant rising sun. It was perhaps an inch over the horizon in a peerless sky devoid of cloud. The air was chilly, but the rays of the sun warmed her face, even this early in the day. The sunrise. She thought of Sawiskera, the king of vampires, trapped by the night and endlessly watching sunrises on TV. How for one long night back in LA she had accepted--or thought she had--that she would never see exactly this sight again, doomed to be a vampire forever. Which took her mind to Theo, the vampire who had sacrificed his heart so that she might stand here in the light of day. She shivered. Where was he now? Somewhere back in LA. A dark Chapter in her past.
Selah placed her hands on her hips and leaned back, hearing a number of sullen joints crack in protest and let out a groan of pain and pleasure. Swinging her arms back and forth, trying to put her thoughts behind her, she walked back to McKnight.
"Morning," said Selah. The other woman was leaning against the Humvee's flank, arms crossed, chin lowered, eyes closed. The gas nozzle was stuck in the tank, pumping away. "You been driving all night?"
The Sergeant opened one eye. Her face was drawn with fatigue, but her gaze was sharp. "You think we got here on autopilot?"
"Military hardware?" Selah tried for a smile, but it withered before McKnight's flat expression. "You want me to drive?"
"No."
Selah nodded. She stared at the little gas station mini-mart. She didn't even know where her wallet was. When had she used it last? She had no idea.
"Heads up." Selah looked over just in time to catch a wallet by reflex. "Go buy me some coffee and some PowerBars. Keep mine black, no sugar. Get yourself something. We've got another nine hours to go, so stock up."
"Oh, sure." Selah nodded. "Thanks."
McKnight examined her and then looked away.
Selah walked past the silent pumps and through the dust-smeared glass door. A bell jangled overhead. It was a small building, just two aisles of goods lined up parallel to the front window, and the counter to the left. A heavyset man with a prodigious belly and a wild ruff of hair around his ears was standing with his arms crossed, staring at a small flatscreen set high up where the wall met the ceiling. The news was on. She drifted up and watched.
Two news anchors were talking. An Asian lady looking stiff and formal in a red suit and a tanned, middle-aged man with distinguished iron-gray hair. In the upper right of the screen was an inserted video feed flashing different scenes: a candlelight vigil being held by solemn people; an endless line of army vehicles driving down a highway; President Lynnfield speaking behind a podium, his face stern and grave.
...more on that shortly. Next up, we have a panel of guests ready to speak on the outbreak of war, and what this means for our government, our relations with the vampires of Miami, and what expectations are for the coming days. Stay with us.
"Shit," said the man. His voice was gravelly and low. He shook his head. "It's a judgment on us. A judgment. We should just a drop an A-Bomb on all of LA and wipe 'em out."
Selah stared at him. "And kill millions of people?"
He rounded on her. "When a limb goes rotten, you cut it off before it infects the rest of the body. I read that once.
Gan
-grene. Rot. All those people there. Rotten and degenerate. Now look what they spawned. What's come of their sin. We need to cauterize the wound. Cut off the limb." He made a slicing motion across his neck from right to left, widening his eyes horribly and drawing his mouth into a slit as he did so.
"All right," said Selah, stepping back. She turned and walked down the aisle and then stopped once the man was out of sight. What would he say if he knew the things she had done? Her sins, her... murders? She took a deep breath, fought for balance. Hands shaking, she took up a bar of chocolate, and then set it back. A memory came to her. Of how she had faced down the vampire Arachne and her followers, and defeated them with ease. She tried to remember that confidence, that surety. It was like trying to grasp at a dream. She took a deep breath and pressed the base of her palms against her eyes.
Get a grip,
she thought.
He's just a weirdo.
Before she could help herself, another voice whispered,
And you're just a girl.
She dropped her hands and stared at packets of chips, seeing right through their garish colors. Just a girl.
Her heart began thudding. What was she doing hiding at the back of a mini-mart behind the chips? A flash of anger suffused her. She might not have Sawiskera's power any longer, but she was still the person who had lived through those moments. She had made those decisions, suffered pain and loss. She reached up and touched her shaved scalp. The soft fuzz that lay over her naked and angular skull. She thought of the night she had shaved her hair off, how her hair had been matted and clotted with blood. How liberating it had felt, how right. Recalled the way Theo had looked at her, that very last time while he had still been himself. That love, undying, unconquerable. She took a deep breath. Maybe she was just a girl now. But she was still so much more than she had ever been.
She filled two cups of coffee, grabbed some PowerBars, a bag of granola, and a bar of dark chocolate and walked back up to the counter. She set the items down. The man was staring back up at the screen, where an army officer was being interviewed.
"Hey," she said. He looked at her. "Ring me up."
He looked back up at the screen. "Hold on."
Selah stared at him. "Now."
Something in her voice caught his attention. He glanced over at her irritably, and then paused. She continued to stare at him, chin raised. He held her eyes, and then blinked rapidly, looked away, and began quickly scanning her items. She bit her lower lip, feeling at once inordinately pleased with herself and amused at how small the victory was. No matter. She opened McKnight's wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. While the man was making change, she studied the Sergeant's military ID. She wore a red beret and looked out sternly, face composed, dress uniform sharp and crisp. REBECCA MCKNIGHT. Affiliation: Uniformed Services. Agency/Department: Army. Expires: 2029JUL06. Pay grade: E8. Rank: 1SGT. A barcode, a holographic tab. No personal data.