However, nothing made sense about April, not one thing. She’s human, a human hybrid of all things. Made to fight vampires and drink their blood to pump her up into a fighting machine, like she was on steroids. He was a vampire, hopelessly in love with her. He wondered if he even meant anything to her because of this. Something was going on within her head and he’d give anything to break down her confines to ease whatever it was that was bothering her. Nothing he did sufficed. Nothing whatsoever.

He pulled into the airport, not spying as many ferals on the way back to the hive as he usually did. They stayed away from the hive for the most part, somehow knowing that the hybrid vampires fed on blood from the ferals, too. He found it odd that they would know this, but he brushed the unfamiliarity of it to the side as he hopped out to open the huge gate that was rigged to an electrical lock. He punched in the code and jumped back into his car, waiting as the gate creaked open. After driving down into an underground parking lot beneath the airport, he watched as the gate closed behind him, making sure no intruders entered before it shut.

Jumping out of the car, he made his way toward the double locked metallic doors that led into the hive. A series of locks squeaked as he punched in the codes, letting him through and shutting behind him with an automatic click. It was a double door entrance, making him wait a mandatory minute before the next door opened. Cameras focused on him as he watched the second set of doors screech open. He wondered whose eyes were watching him from the other side of the lens. Giving a curt nod to them, he walked into the massive hive’s main meeting room, a large warehouse-like space made from enclosing the McCarran Airport underground bypass tunnel. Asphalt ran under his feet as he made his way to the other side, where another door led to the sleeping quarters of the three lieutenants of the hive−Blaze, Rye and Miranda.

The others watched him as he marched through, barely acknowledging them. No one challenged him; everyone knew who he was.

Blaze and Miranda were nowhere to be seen, making him wonder if they were already resting. The main meeting area was nearly deserted. With the sun rising outside, he was sure most had already sought the comfort of their rooms to rest. He shut the automated locking door behind him, stepped down the silent corridor and swiftly to his room.

Sliding onto his bed, he leaned back onto his arm and stared at the ceiling. The cold concrete was puckered and imperfect with its small ridges and porous surface. He had studied every crack and crevice over many, many months. He liked it here. It was silent and dark, giving him much-needed relaxation time, which seemed to be consumed by so many things lately. Letting his body lax into sleep had been difficult with so much on his mind, mainly April.

He hoped that this fiasco with the humans would make things clearer for her, make her realize that she wasn’t alone or fulfill some endless need she harbored inside. He hoped that at the end of this, she’d come to realize that he needed her and that maybe, just maybe, she needed him too. He was patient, but he hoped it wouldn’t be too long of a wait.

~~~~~

“RYE?” MIRANDA’S VOICE echoed in his dreams, making the scene before him shift violently to the dark concrete walls of the hive headquarters. He sat up as the end of his bed shook when she sat down. She looked cautious, probably expecting him to pounce on her for interrupting his sleep. He found himself slick with sweat and his heart thudding in his chest from the plagued dreams. “Are you alright? I heard you yelling at someone, I thought something was going on.”

Her golden-haloed brown eyes reflected the dim light of the hall just outside his room and swam with concern. She lived in one of the rooms next to his; a long hallway of dorm-like rooms had replaced the long room of stalls and beds that had been their resting places for a long time. Here, the walls smelled of new paint and wood. The smell was sometimes strong in the stale tunnel air. But overall, it wasn’t too unpleasant, except when it started to make him feel suffocated and hunger for fresh air, as he did now.

Rye gave Miranda a shake of his head, reassuring her that he was okay. “No, nothing, just a bad dream. Didn’t have any dinner today.” He chuckled, wanting to lighten the mood and steer her off him, but she was not so easily fooled. Miranda squinted her shiny eyes toward him, full of suspicion, not likely to let him off easy.

“You sure you’re okay? Need anything?”

“I’m fine. Please, go back to bed.” He waved her off, watching her as she slipped silently toward the doorway. She treated him like a little brother, much like April treated Jeremy. She gave him a curt not and disappeared like a flash. Her intentions were good, but he did not want her around when he was feeling vulnerable. She was second in command of the hive, set to take over if anything happened to Blaze. It was fine with Rye, but he hated to be seen as weak.

Sitting in the bed, he rested his elbows on his knees as his hands weaved through his hair, brushing back the beads of perspiration. The residual effects of the dream slowly ebbed away as his heart found a calmer rhythm. Closing his eyes brought an image of April floating into his mind. Why did she make him feel this way? Exasperated, desperate and wanting. He felt like she was pushing him away, like a nuisance, a fly buzzing around her head and annoying her to death. He wondered if he should just let her be, let her go.

No. He shook his head at the ridiculous thought and laid back against the cool, sweat-soaked pillow. He would distance himself a bit from her, but to be too far away would be unbearable. The connection he felt to her, the need to protect her in this devastated world, was much too strong to just let go. Maybe he should just tell her outright what she meant to him and find out what made her hesitate to return his affections.

It couldn’t be that bad; but even if it was, he had to know. He would tell her the next time they met and make sure that no matter what, she knew that he would be there for her.

Chapter Nine

I’ll Provide the Spite

Elijah

TEARS OF SOOT and despair disappear in the dusty moonlight. Or so it seems. Elijah wiped away the grimy residue caked on his skin and weapons. It streaked across his face, leaving a trail from his rough fingers. The mirror, unlike the reflection it now harbored, was crisp and clean, like the rest of the bathroom. It stood sterile, pure and white all around him. He leaned against the rim of the sink, letting the black ash trail along the clean porcelain, staining its perfect surface. He liked that. He wanted to smear around what was left of the zombified vampires’ remains, which stuck to his clothes and clung to his hair. The burnt barbeque smell permeated his nostrils, making him remember the deed long after it was done.

He hated leading them to their deaths. Though they were no longer human and no longer resembled anything with higher thinking, he still regretted the fact that he was responsible for killing them. It was getting more and more difficult to push the guilt and horror of the world back into the tiny chamber inside his head, which harbored everything that had gone wrong in his life and hid the deterioration of his morality. Turning the faucet on, he let the warm water run and splashed it his face. The fluid churned black as he washed the grime away, soaping up his arms. He had to get a shower as soon as he could, but Katrina would be waiting for him at debriefing. She wouldn’t like waiting.

Slamming the water off, he dried himself with a towel, continuing to stare into the smooth mirror before him. His reflection remained constant—slightly tanned skin and gleaming brown eyes glinted back at him. His shaggy brown hair was getting long, hanging over his ears, and needed to be brushed back for him to see without it in his eyes. Short stubble grew along his jawline, making him look like a rugged woodsman. He smiled at the thought. Elijah, the huntsman. Right.

Pulling on a clean black shirt, he smoothed the wrinkles down and jerked the door open, entering the cool, brightly-lit hallway. It’s too white here, he thought to himself. Sterile and plain. Whoever had built this fortress had to have been a germ-a-phobe, he just knew it. That, or some mad scientist. The gleam of the clean walls and tile made him cringe. His thoughts wandered to a hospital he had visited before the epidemic. The smells had been nauseating, and the plain color scheme of the halls and waiting rooms just reeked of institutionalization. He wondered why they couldn’t have painted it more lively, vibrant and happy. Why make a hospital look like one? The same went for this place. Why so much white? Was there a deal on white paint when it had been built?

That was why he loved his city escape in the penthouse of the Palms Casino. Every time he returned to the underground, he longed to leave again and go back to his sanctuary above the city streets. Thinking of his apartment, his thoughts wandered to the girl, April, whom he had chased off. He had been surprised to see a human alive aboveground. It was something he had not expected to see for almost a year. Supposedly everyone had died or turned. If by chance any had lived, they’d have been eaten by now. No, ‘surprised’ was not even the right word for what he felt about his discovery. He was stunned.

He couldn’t ever tell Katrina about the girl. She would have them hunt her down and drag her against her will into the underground. He prayed she never came looking for him again. If she knew about the underground, it would be a death sentence for her, or at least a definite life imprisonment.

The underground city of Vida was the most boring and ordinary place on earth. It was inhabited by humans and hybrid humans alike. It had been the last place in Las Vegas left unaffected by the viral epidemic, the last stand. This made him smirk and almost laugh out loud. He’d never believed that. He couldn’t believe it was the last place on earth that was safe, especially now with April roaming around as proof of life above. He could feel deep inside him that there were others out there, somewhere. This knowledge crept in his mind and surged through his bones like a sixth sense. One day he was going to find them. With or without Katrina’s help.

The thoughts of the city’s dictator made him groan. The plain, thin woman had claimed leadership of this underground, prison-like facility. She had run the place before the outbreak and God forbid someone else run the place in the wake of the epidemic. She was ruthless, with dozens of loyal followers. She was pretty close to being some sort of cult leader. Waco, Texas had nothing on her. She didn’t hesitate to punish those who disobeyed. He’d had a taste of her wrath before, though she could’ve been harder on him. He believed she was wary of him, and maybe even had a soft spot for him. However, she kept tabs on all twelve of the hybrid humans living among her human followers. She barely tolerated their presence, and they knew this well. She would not let them forget it.

Elijah knew she was scared of them, of him, of their differences and their strengths. She used them as her ultimate soldiers but never forgot to let them know that they were not quite human anymore. She never neglected to remind them of their place beneath her, beneath the others, not once extending much courtesy toward them.

In fact, if Katrina could, he’d bet she would have thrown them all into a prison cell until they rotted. But they had their uses. So, until they became unnecessary, she used them for every little task which needed to be done. Elijah was made the leader of the twelve, mainly because they listened to him. And he did what he was told. Her hold on them was wrapped with the threat of being thrown into the unknown world, a world that was dismal and barren. That or death.

They had chosen to serve as her top security detail. It’s not that they couldn’t have overthrown her if they had so wanted to. But it would have been bloody. With all her faithful supporters, it would have been an all-out civil war.

It was best to avoid any confrontation with Katrina. Elijah couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something off about her. It made his skin crawl to be near her, and he didn’t even know why. She emanated power as though it leaked from her pores. Whatever it was that was different about her, he didn’t ask. He didn’t really want to know.

He never looked forward to seeing her, and despised her more than anything. For now, he kept it to himself. Just like the existence of April, it was all kept safely in his mind. Katrina would never find out about her, he would make sure of that. For now, the task of annihilating the zompires, as the Vidians had begun to call the wild vampires above, was her obsession. The half-zombie, half-vampire crazies were all that remained of civilization. This was a job he dreaded but he was satisfied that it kept her attention for now. He gritted his teeth the entire way to the debriefing room, wishing to be anywhere but here. As long as there was a “task” for the twelve, Katrina would let them remain in Vida undisturbed.

That was all he wanted, for now.

Chapter Ten

Holding Breath

April

I WONDERED IF mom would’ve approved. The old mom, I mean. The Helen I craved to see once more, the mother of my past. I peeked into the storage room just long enough to get a good look at the cage she now dwelt in. She left it occasionally, but only if I was there and awake. Otherwise, it was back into the prison cell she has made ever so comfy for herself.

The old Helen would probably not have approved. I could see her in my mind’s eye frowning and shaking her head, disapproving of such an arrangement. She probably would have asked me to shoot her in the head. She would’ve made me do it already.

I felt defeated, like I was giving up on her as I turned away and flopped back onto my own bed. Night had crept over the horizon, and we had bunkered down for the evening. Rain had been threatening to fall all afternoon, and it now came down in sheets, keeping its ominous promise. It pummeled the walls, hard and unrelenting. I enjoyed the tapping sound; it brought life with it, something we all could use a little more of. When it rained here, it came down in torrential buckets, causing the valley to become flood zones with rapids all over the place.

I avoided the city when that happened. Even with the newly built flood channels, which remained intact, it was still dangerous to find yourself carried away in the swirling, dirty water. Some streets would flood completely and become impassable. Even some of the casinos were not left unscathed, filling up the first floors with muck and mud. If there were still people around, it might not have gotten so bad. But nature has a way of taking back the land, shifting the dirt and water to its own desires.