is our punishment, our Tribulation. God has abandoned this world. The faithful have already gone on to their reward, and He has left the rest of us here, at the mercy of the demons and the devils. The sins of our fathers have passed on to their children, and their children’s children, and it will continue to be so until this world is completely destroyed. So it doesn’t matter if you believe in God or not, because He is not here.”
I’d been skeptical before. I didn’t know what I believed now.
“Allison.” Kanin’s soft, cool voice came to me over the silent graveyard. I looked up, expecting him to call me back, to tell me we were wasting time, that we had to keep moving. His eyes were dark and hooded, his expression blank, as he gazed at me from the edge of the lot. “Do you know this place?”
I nodded. “I’ve been here before,” I told him, stepping around a headstone, brushing the cold rock with my fingers. The same tombstone Zeke had braced himself against when Jeb had whipped him for a crime I couldn’t remember now. “We—Zeke’s group—passed through this town on their way to Eden,” I continued, looking at the burned, blackened church. “They stopped here to rest, but they were attacked the next night.” I turned my head and shot a glare at Jackal, angry again. “By Jackal’s thugs.”
“Huh.” Jackal gazed around with interest now, unconcerned with the icy glare I was giving him. “So this is the spot where they nabbed everyone, is it? Small world.”
“They killed a woman, you know,” I spat at him. “Shot her in cold blood, and she couldn’t even defend herself. Oh, forget it.” Shaking my head, I curled my lip into a sneer. “Why am I telling you any of this—you certainly don’t care.”
“At last,” Jackal returned, smiling. “It starts to sink in. I was afraid I’d have to listen to another sermon.”
I wanted to snap at him, but it was useless. Instead, I turned and brushed snow off the cold tombstone as memories rose up to swirl around me. I recalled what had happened in this cemetery—seeing Zeke and Jeb from the cover of darkness. Watching as Jeb used a car antenna to whip his adopted son for an earlier sin. Watching Zeke with his head bowed, saying nothing. And what had happened after—the sudden attack, finding Zeke and traveling with him to Old Chicago to rescue the others—it all came back, reminding me yet again of what I had lost. That frozen piece of time in utter darkness, when Zeke had finally leaned in and kissed me, was forever etched into my memory and would never fade. I could see him now, standing beside me, as clearly as that memory would allow, his bright blue eyes shining with hope and determination. And I knew why I’d wanted to come here, to this spot, one more time.
Reaching back, I unhooked the chain from around my neck, drawing it and the tiny silver cross over my head. Refastening the clasp, I set it and the cross gently down on the gravestone, my fingers lingering on the metal winking against the rock.
Goodbye, Zeke.
Then I turned and crossed the grounds to where the two vampires waited on the sidewalk. Jackal shook his head as I joined them, but Kanin’s dark eyes remained on me, sympathetic and appraising.
“Are you finished?” he asked gently, and I nodded.
“Yeah,” I whispered, with one last glance at the church and the phantom memories that still lingered. The glint of silver, tiny and bright, caught my eye in the darkness, and I turned away. “Let’s go. I’m done here.”
We headed back toward the main road. No one, not even Jackal, said anything, leaving me to my thoughts and the persistent, swirling memories that refused to leave me alone. Several times, I almost turned around and went back; that cross was my last connection to Zeke, the only part of him I still had. But in the end, I left it on the grave in the middle of a lonely cemetery. I couldn’t dwell in the past. Zeke was gone. I had to move forward.
As we stepped between two dead vehicles and the road stretched away once more, the sudden growl of an engine cut through the silence. I jerked up, caught a glimpse of flying snow and red taillights as two motorcycles flashed between cars and vanished. The tracks from the tires shot away through the snow and followed the motorcycles into the dark, down the highway, and out of sight. The whine of their bike engines echoed over the buildings, ebbing away into the night.
I whirled on Jackal. “Those were raiders!” I exclaimed, almost an accusation. He raised a patronizing eyebrow, and I narrowed my gaze. “Why are they here? What do they want?”
The raider king gave me a serene smirk. “What makes you think they were mine, sister?”
“Uh, because we’re a couple days from Old Chicago? Because this is the same town where they attacked us last time?” He continued to smirk at me, and I scowled. “Don’t play innocent—those were your bikers. What did they want?”
“Haven’t a clue,” Jackal said breezily. “They didn’t exactly stick around for tea and gossip, did they?”
I bared my fangs at his obnoxiousness. “Aren’t you their king? Wouldn’t they at least try to talk to you if they knew you were here?”
Jackal snorted. “Sister, please. The minions aren’t stupid. If you were a bloodbag and you saw three vampires walking up the road toward your house, what would you do? Stay and have a nice little chat? Or run like hell?” He shook his head. “The minions, if they were mine, did exactly what they always do—saved their own worthless hides. As well they should. I don’t want them getting comfortable with vampires. I worked very hard to make sure they’re all scared shitless of me, and I’ll thank you not to screw that up. My raiders, especially, know better than to hang around, waiting to be eaten. I’m their king, not their pal. So, yes, we saw two bikers, and they peed themselves and ran away. What’s the problem here?”
“Just that... I mean...” I trailed off, frustrated that I knew something was wrong, and I couldn’t put it into words. Kanin, however, spoke up from behind me.
“And is it usual that two of your humans would stake out a town for the sole purpose of watching for vampires?” he asked. “And that they chose this town, which they knew we would have to pass on the way to Old Chicago?”
Jackal shrugged. “Maybe. Who gives a damn, anyway? Don’t glare at me, old man,” he added, facing Kanin down. “I’m not a mind reader. I can’t tell what the minions are thinking every second of every day. It’s just a couple bloodbags. What do you think they’re going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Kanin admitted, his dark gaze moving to the road ahead. “But I think we should proceed with caution.”
* * *
Nothing unusual happened that night. We met no more raiders on the road, heard no motorcycles tearing away from us at top speed, encountered no human life at all. The path to Old Chicago was as it had always been: silent, cold and dark, twisting through woods and deserted towns, past the skeletons of houses and the ancient remains of cars buried in the snow. Near dawn, we split up to bury ourselves in the frozen earth, as Kanin was suddenly wary of being aboveground and exposed. I slept in my dark grave, silent, dreamless and undisturbed, and rose the next night to a still, icy world. It had stopped snowing, but sometime during the day the snow had turned to sleet, and everything was outlined in a thin layer of ice. I shook snow from my hair and clothes and paused a moment to concentrate on Kanin and Jackal, searching for them through our blood tie.
They weren’t far. I backtracked through the trees until I found the road again and saw Jackal leaning against a dead tree at the edge of the pavement. He raised an eyebrow as I came up,
