A Touch of Truth Page 2

  I knew for sure where working phones did exist, of course. Back in the IBSI’s headquarters, on the other side of the river. And behind their HQ, I was sure that there were also regular human residences. But I would be an absolute fool to head back that way. The hunters might be on the lookout for me even now—I had no idea where they were, or what they thought had happened to me.

  Hopefully they thought I had drowned. That would certainly be the logical conclusion, after falling into rapids that strong with handcuffs restraining me.

  So if I don’t head back toward the other side of the river, toward human civilization, where else?

  As I stood in the dim, dank corridor, I drew in a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves and think straight. I could not give in to despair and hopelessness.

  A moment of clarity came upon me.

  I have to find whoever saved me. That’s what I’ve got to do.

  Whoever it was, I supposed they did not wish me harm if they had gone to the trouble of fishing me out of the river and bringing me all this way to shelter—how they’d done that amidst the Bloodless roaming the roads, I didn’t know. I shuddered just at the thought.

  Would my savior, or saviors, have gone far? What if they were even hanging around in this building somewhere? I needed to explore these floors. Perhaps they had deliberately left me alone so that I could sleep, recover from my ordeal. I comforted myself with these hopeful thoughts as I began moving slowly and cautiously down the corridor.

  I wished that I could call out to see if anyone was nearby. But of course, I couldn’t. I might as well be calling for my death.

  I reached the end of the corridor and arrived at a set of elevators—broken, defunct elevators. Next to them was a staircase, however. I didn’t want to think about how many steps I would have to climb down to get to the bottom. This building was so high—I guessed over twenty floors, though my estimation could have been wildly off.

  I set the coil down and opened the box of matches, which thankfully were not damp. Sparking a flame and brewing it in my right hand, I replaced the matches in my pocket, picked up the coil in my left hand and started down the staircase. It was frighteningly dark. I was already imagining myself halfway down the first flight of stairs and coming face to face with one of those pale, nightmarish creatures. I’d never been more grateful for my ability to wield fire than I was then. The flames were comforting, though the shadows they sent dancing on the walls on either side of me gave me shivers. I tried to keep my eyes firmly on the stairs in front of me and quell my overstimulated imagination.

  I realized how much I was sweating as I arrived on the next floor down. I exited the staircase and stepped out into another corridor. As I scanned left and right, something caught my eye by one of the doorways. I could’ve sworn that I spotted a moving shadow. My throat grew tight and I froze, staring at where I thought I’d seen it.

  I moved toward the door slower than ever, and peered through the doorway. Another office room. An apparently empty office room.

  I’m just getting spooked.

  I explored this floor a bit more before returning to the staircase and making my way down to the next floor—moving noticeably faster this time. I stopped on each floor and explored as much as I dared, but each time found nothing of importance. No signs of whoever it was that had saved me. By the time I reached the ground floor, even my half-supernatural muscles were beginning to feel the workout.

  I gazed at a metal plaque fixed to the wall outside the staircase. It had an arrow pointing right. “Reception,” it read. And then beneath that was another word with another arrow, pointing down the corridor in the opposite direction. “Parking,” it said.

  A reception area didn’t sound like somewhere I wanted to go—it made me think of some grand lobby with lots of glass windows—probably all smashed, and leading directly into the dangerous road outside. But a parking garage didn’t sound much better. Though if it was in the basement, underground, as parking usually was in buildings such as these, maybe…

  Given that I wasn’t exactly overwhelmed with options right now, I headed in the direction of the parking garage. Indeed, the arrow led me toward a pair of elevators and another stairwell. I reached the bottom of the stairs and arrived outside a thick metal door with a round handle. Gripping it with one hand, I pushed it open to create the smallest crack. I peered through into a pitch-black basement, filled with vehicles. I couldn’t see enough through this small gap, however, so I was forced to push it open wider. I stepped inside, holding out my fire and making it flare higher to cast its halo further around me.

  Surprisingly, the vehicles were intact. At least, none of them appeared to have any visible damage to them. And indeed this room in general seemed to be quite untouched—which was odd, considering that the door had been unlocked.

  I weaved in and out of the vehicles and moved down the center of the parking lot. Reaching the other end, I stopped and pressed my back against the wall to scan the room from this angle. To my right was a slope leading to what appeared to be the basement’s exit—a wide, corrugated iron gate. Likely electronic, and I guessed now defunct.

  Disappointment swelled within me. I had traveled down the entire building and still not found anyone. Granted, I hadn’t felt safe enough to spend much time in each room in order to do a completely thorough search, but if someone was here they should have heard me. Dammit. They could have left a note or something for me, even the slightest explanation would have helped—the vaguest indication of when they might return, or even if they would return.

  My frustrated thoughts evaporated as a scatter of debris fell from the ceiling.

  When I glanced up, my heart stopped.

  The ceiling.

  I hadn’t yet checked the ceiling.

  Grace

  The ceiling was lined with naked, pale backs. Bloodless.

  I’d just walked right into a nap room.

  I didn’t have time to chastise myself for not having the presence of mind to look up the moment I entered the basement. Heck, I barely even had time to think as the Bloodless that had caused the falling debris—the first Bloodless to have awoken—dropped to the floor ten feet in front of me.

  The others—there were maybe twenty in total—were quickly aroused by its motion and the next thing I knew all of them were stirring, their legs lowering and long, lanky bodies dropping down all around me like stick insects.

  I was practically choking from fright as I made my fire blaze and spark out toward them. The Bloodless nearest to me let out ear-splitting screeches. At least the flames caused them to step back.

  The coil being of no use to me anymore, I hurled it toward the crowd before moving forward, forcing those around me backward. I spun around fast and continued rotating my fire to ensure that none of them caught me from behind.

  I had to get out of this basement. I had to get to the exit!

  I managed to cause enough heat to pave a path to the door. As my left hand closed around the metal handle, I cast a backward glance. The Bloodless were following me—encroaching as close to me as they dared. I pulled open the door, darted up the stairs and raced down the corridor even as my fire singed the walls and carpet. In my panic, I wasn’t even sure where I was heading. Just anywhere away from the loping crowd behind me.

  I found myself heading toward the reception area. Reaching a set of double doors whose glass was smashed, I barged into a spacious lobby which was just as dilapidated as the rest of the building. I lunged across the room to the broken revolving doors at the other end and burst out into the frigid street.

  I barely had time to think which direction to head in. This street was clear of other Bloodless for now—at least, from what I could see.

  Somehow, I just had to get these monsters off my trail… even though they had already scented my blood.

  I darted to my right. The sky above was overcast with heavy, black-gray clouds.

  If it started to rain, this situation would escalate to a whole ne
w level of desperation.

  I raced down the street, my blood pounding in my ears. I reached the end of the sidewalk and took a sharp right turn again, around the corner of the building. When I glanced around me, it was to see that several Bloodless had caught up with me by now, running parallel with me and several feet apart to avoid my heat.

  And then one leapt right in front of my path.

  Shocked, I stalled before coming to my senses and continuing to surge forward. Would this creature stand getting burned to have me?

  Could a half fae turn into a Bloodless? What would I be, half fae, half Bloodless? I shook the thought aside. I couldn’t start entertaining thoughts like these. I’m going to escape this. I’m going to escape.

  As the Bloodless leapt aside just as we were a few feet from colliding, it appeared that they really were afraid of my fire. They did not want to feel pain.

  Thunder rumbled overhead. And then I felt it: the first drop of rain on my face.

  Crap.

  I could still manipulate fire in rain, but it was twice the effort, and I wasn’t sure how long I could keep it up. I wasn’t practiced at wielding fire in such conditions. Skirting around the building, I looked wildly around for somewhere, anywhere, I could possibly hide.

  I caught sight of an open drain on the other side of the road. Or rather, I smelt it before I spotted it. Its stench was so vile, it stunk up the entire road. As the rain started falling more heavily, I couldn’t pause to think. I darted in and out of the broken-down vehicles—many of them strewn right in the middle of the road—to reach the other side. Arriving at the edge of the drain, I leapt into it.

  Thick, dark sludge swallowed up my feet, legs, and torso. But my only concern right now was keeping my hands above the liquid. I’d realized too late that dropping down in here would ruin the matches—which were still in my pocket. Now covered in this slime, they were useless. At all costs, now more than ever, I had to keep my fire blazing because if it went out, I would be completely and utterly defenseless.

  Left and right of me was a long tunnel—with several more openings at intervals. The tunnel was not tall enough for me to stand to my full height. Bending over, I began hurriedly wading forward.

  I’d heard that Bloodless were deterred by very strong, disgusting odors—like the smell of a decaying corpse, for example. The rotten substance surrounding me was definitely a rival to that. It was all I could do to stop myself from vomiting as I forced myself to continue wading forward.

  I looked back over my shoulder, praying that I was alone down here… but I wasn’t. The stench hadn’t worked. Jumping down here and ruining my matches had all been in vain. Maybe they were just that starved for blood that they tolerated the stench.

  With heavy splashes, Bloodless had begun piling down into the drain after me.

  Now I was in a worse position than when I had still been above ground. Half of me was submerged in this liquid. Half of me, completely unprotected by my fire.

  As they moved toward me, I surged the fire in their direction, hoping to scorch at least the first few that led the group, before continuing to hurry onward.

  Now, I had to find a way back up. Even if it was raining. Even if it killed me.

  Down here was certain doom.

  A pale beam of light shone up ahead, trickling down from the road and into the depths of the gutter. I could just make out a ladder leading up to it, attached to the side of the wall. Another entrance to the sewage system. It didn’t seem like it was that far, either, but wading through this thick grime slowed me down considerably.

  I managed to reach within a few feet of the ladder when an ice-cold, hard, bony hand clamped around my ankle. I screamed, kicking with my shoe as hard as I could. It felt like the ridge of my sole made contact with the attacking Bloodless’ face beneath the sludge. Whatever it made contact with, the hand loosened, allowing me to pull away.

  I hurried forward with desperation I’d never experienced in my life, but made it only another couple of feet before another hand grabbed me—my left knee this time.

  And then, without warning, a sharp pain shot up my left leg. I felt … fangs. Sinking into my flesh. Closing around me. Razor-sharp teeth that felt like sharks’ jaws.

  One’s got me.

  One’s biting me!

  I let out a bloodcurdling shriek as I struggled to free myself, but as I did, the fangs only sank deeper.

  “No!” I screamed, as if my volume would save me. “No!”

  I kept fighting to pull away while maintaining the fire protecting the upper half of me. But fighting only increased the pain. My flesh tore beneath the monster’s teeth, and soon began to sting unbearably from the toxic substance I was covered in.

  I was in a state of shock that this was actually happening. A Bloodless had gotten me. Was biting me. This can’t be happening.

  Although any reasonable person should have expected to get caught, I couldn’t believe it. I refused to believe that one had managed to latch onto me. Escape was my only option. I would survive.

  As another hand gripped my right leg, however, there was no more denying it. And I had no weapon with which to reach them or fight them off. I attempted to manipulate the liquid I was immersed in, make it rise up, reveal the Bloodless beneath it, but it was so thickly polluted with other substances, it was hardly responsive to my powers. I managed to surge up a wave, but the liquid I’d displaced was immediately replaced with more slime, and I failed to scoop deep enough to reach my attackers.

  I struggled to keep my head above the surface as a second pair of fangs dug into me.

  Feeling myself being pulled under, I gazed hopelessly toward the exit. The ladder—it was so agonizingly close. I made one last attempt to reach it, even abandoning the fire in my left hand in order to get a hold of it. I lunged, my fingers clasping around the cold rusted metal. But I was still stuck, and now that my fire had diminished, more Bloodless lurched for me.

  As much as I had learned from my father about tenacity and the will to survive, I couldn’t help but think that maybe there came a time when you just had nothing left. When you had to give in. When fighting only prolonged the pain…

  A sudden chorus of screeching erupted from behind me and pierced through my desperate thoughts. Then I heard an odd sound… it sounded like the whirring of rotor blades, slicing air and liquid.

  Indeed, as I gazed into the darkness, I caught sight of a spinning wheel of blades levitating in the air. Rotor blades. They looked sharp as knives. I stared, stunned, as I realized that they were slashing through the crowd of Bloodless, severing their heads, limbs… rendering the sewer into Bloodless soup.

  The blades spun so fast, they spliced the entire crowd of Bloodless in under a minute, until it arrived within two feet of me—me and the Bloodless who were still beneath the slime and feasting on me.

  Dizziness was beginning to overtake me, but I just managed to keep my vision focused enough to witness the blades dip beneath the surface. I heard the sound of muffled screaming underwater. The gunk surrounding me churned wildly, and then the fangs withdrew from my flesh in quick succession. The blades started churning up pieces of pale limbs—bits of hands, arms, legs… heads.

  Then the deadly wheel lifted out of the slime, only a foot in front of me.

  Although my body was begging to just collapse, I finally launched onto the ladder and pulled myself above the liquid. I couldn’t yet bring myself to glance down at my legs to see what kind of a state they were in, much less consider what was about to happen to me next. My wounds were stinging so badly, I couldn’t help but feel that blood poisoning would end up killing me before turning ever did.

  “Hey!” A deep, female voice echoed abruptly down the tunnel.

  Then I caught sight of two figures—one short, one tall—wearing dark clothes, gloves, and gas masks covering their faces. Two people whom I could only assume in my dazed state had been my original saviors.

  They started wading through the sewage toward the
ladder and as they arrived beneath me, I realized that one of them was a man. From what I could see of their faces through their masks—which wasn’t much, mainly their dark black-brown eyes—they were young, perhaps in their early twenties. From the similarity of their eye colors, maybe they were siblings.

  The girl swore as she looked at my leg.

  “Oh, great. They bit her!” she hissed to the man. She had a New York twang to her accent.

  Alarm flashed in their eyes and they began to retreat.

  “Wait!” I cried. “Please! Don’t leave me!”

  I realized that I still had a small spark of fire left in my right palm and I used all the energy left in my worn body to coax the spark into a blazing fire.

  “I’m not a human!” I exclaimed. “I am half fae. I may not be affected by Bloodless like normal people!” I struggled to believe my own words even as I spoke them. But they had to believe me. They had to, or they would just leave me here to rot.

  They stopped in their tracks and stared at me. Then they exchanged glances.

  “Please, help me!” I urged. “I’ll do you any favor in return!”

  “It’s too risky,” the girl muttered to the boy after a pause.

  The boy’s eyes raked me. “But she’s not a human,” he replied in a low voice. His accent was the same as hers. I also realized in that moment that he was holding something in his right hand—it looked like some kind of remote control… for the spinning wheel? It had to be.

  “Half fae,” the girl addressed me, narrowing her eyes. “That means you are also half human, right?”

  “Yes,” I wheezed, unsure of how much longer I could stay conscious in this agony. “But please, help me.”

  “She’s not showing signs of turning yet,” the boy said, doubtfully.

  “It could just be slower,” the girl shot back. She shifted on her feet impatiently, and then to my horror, stepped back. “Orlando, let’s just go.”

  But the boy—Orlando—stayed where he was.

  “If she has powers, she could be useful,” he replied.