Dominion of the Damned (3 page)

She opened her eyes. Albert’s voice sounded on the baby monitor. “I hope you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking,” he said.

“What am I thinking?” asked Marie.

“We can’t keep him, Marie. We have to give him to the authorities.”

“I suppose,” she said. “But I didn’t tell them there was a baby when I called. I didn’t even know myself then.”

Hannah threw the covers off and sat up. She grabbed the monitor and held it close to her ear.

“Marie,” Albert sounded agitated, “you know what will happen if we get caught hoarding food. They’ll stake us out in the yard and leave us there to burn.”

“Oh, you worry too much, Albert. How would they find out? Besides, it’s not like that little thing’ll make more than a snack between the two of us.”

Hannah wondered if she’d actually fallen asleep and
this
was her dream. She couldn’t be hearing them right.

“And what happens when that girl starts ranting and raving about her baby being taken? You think she won’t tell?”

The monitor fell silent for a moment. Then Marie said, “She can’t tell them if she’s dead.”

“What?”

“She found us out. She tried to run, and we tried to stop her.”

“Marie―”

“We can’t feed from her, I know. They already know about her, and they’d investigate. But we can break her neck, and then the baby―”

“Marie! Get serious!”

“I am serious, Albert! Think about it! Think about that fresh, warm b—”

Grabbing the baby, Hannah charged out of the room. She pulled the pistol out of her waistband as she ran down the stairs. Marie and Albert stood at the bottom of the staircase, between Hannah and the door. She pointed the gun at them. “Move.”

“Calm down, girl,” Albert said. “We don’t want any trouble here.” He looked directly at her for the first time, and his eyes... the irises were an icy blue, so pale they were almost white, and the pupils seemed to glow, reflecting light the way a cat′s eyes do. It wasn′t normal. It wasn′t human.

“What are you people?” she asked. “Are you more of those… those
things?
What, you can
talk
now?” She didn’t want to think about the implication of what that meant for her parents. The sight of her mother lurching toward her, gnashing her teeth, hungry eyes on the baby, flashed before her and made her feel sick.

“She knows, Albert,” said Marie. “This is our chance!”

“Marie, shut up! She clearly doesn’t know anything.” Albert reached a hand toward Hannah. “I don’t know what you think is going on here, but let’s all just―”

Hannah turned the gun on him. “I should just shoot you where you stand.”

He looked surprised for a second, but then he smiled. It wasn’t a warm smile. Hannah felt chilled as he said, “Go ahead. It won’t help you.” He took a step toward her.

Hannah didn’t hesitate. The bullet hit Albert right in the middle of his forehead, snapping his head back. A trickle of blood ran down between his eyes.

He didn’t go down.

Marie laughed. “Perfect. Now we’ve got our excuse.” She started to come at Hannah, but Albert grabbed her.

“Listen!”

Everyone froze as the pulsating sound of a helicopter grew near.

“They’re here!” said Marie. “Kill her, Albert! Do it now!”

“It’s too late, Marie!”

The helicopter grew as loud as thunder. Bright light flooded through the front windows. Marie lunged at Hannah, moving faster than she would have believed an old woman could move, and grabbed Noah. Hannah turned the gun on her, for all the good it would do. “Give him back!”

Holding the baby up like a shield, Marie smiled coldly. “I could dash his little brains out on the floor before you even start to pull the trigger,” she said, “but I hate to waste my food like that.”

Hannah circled around her, trying to get a clear shot. She would aim low, but she didn’t want to risk the woman dropping the baby.

There was a knock on the door. “It’s over, Marie,” said Albert. “We’re turning them both over.”

“But Albert―!”

The front door burst open, and men in soldier’s gear and body armor rushed in, carrying bigger guns than Hannah’s. One of them pointed theirs at Albert. “Surrender the humans!” he ordered.

Albert raised his hands, letting go of Hannah. “We’re cooperating!” he yelled. “Marie, give the man the baby!”

Marie reluctantly stepped forward, a pouty, petulant look on the woman’s face as she held the baby out as if in offering. Hannah saw an opening―not a big one, but the only one she was likely to get. Grabbing Noah, she drove a shoulder into Marie to knock her off balance. She ran into the living room and toward the den. The soldier fired. Instead of a loud bang, Hannah heard the quiet hiss of an air rifle, and she felt something graze her shoulder as she ducked into the den. She continued through a wide doorway into the kitchen, made it to the back door and outside, where she ran as fast as she could toward the safety of the shelter.

She triggered the motion sensor on her way out, and the floodlight lit her way. It also lit her up. “There she is!” a male voice shouted behind her. “Take her out!”

Something struck the back of her shoulder, and Hannah felt a sting. She kept running, but her legs grew heavy. She felt herself slowing down as her vision began to cloud over. “Hit her again!” the voice shouted, and something stung her thigh. Darts, she realized, too late for it to do her any good. They were drugging her.

Her steps slowed, and she stumbled. She knew if she kept running, she’d end up falling and hurting the baby, so she dropped to her knees. Cradling Noah against her, she tried to crawl toward the shelter. Just a few more yards and they’d be safe again. She should never have left it. It was a stupid thing to do, risking the baby like that.

Footsteps came up behind her. They came too fast. Hannah couldn’t hold herself up any longer. She lay down in the grass, curling herself around Noah. “We got her,” said the voice. She heard the static of a walkie-talkie, followed by another voice on the other end asking, “What about the infant?”

“It’s secure,” the voice replied as a pair of black gloved hands pried Noah out of Hannah’s arms. She tried to protest, but her tongue had grown thick, and it came out as a pitiful moan.

“Bring them in,” said the radio voice, and Hannah felt hands on her, lifting her up. As they carried her, Hannah opened her eyes and saw the stars. Then they faded, and she saw only darkness.

THREE

Waking up wasn’t easy. It felt like trying to float to the surface of a deep pool with a weighted jacket dragging her back down. Hannah first became aware that her mouth felt dry, and that her head hurt. She wanted to roll over and sink back down into blessed unconsciousness, but something held her in place. Gradually, thoughts began to form in her mind, and then memories. Of Noah.

They took Noah.

Hannah opened her eyes. She tried to sit up and realized she was strapped down. Frantically, she looked around and took in her surroundings. She was strapped to a cot, in a room full of cots, surrounded by gray walls. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a greenish pall over the room. She was hooked to a hospital monitor, with an IV tube attached to her right arm. She struggled against her restraints, but both of her arms were tied down.

“Take it easy,” said a male voice, rich and resonant. A man appeared at her bedside, wearing a white lab coat. He was a young man, probably no more than thirty, with short, black hair and a darkly handsome face. He spoke with a slight accent that Hannah couldn’t quite place. Russian, maybe, or Eastern European.

“Where’s my baby?”

“He’s safe. You both are. He was taken to our nursery for care.”

“Where is this?” she asked. Her mouth and throat were so dry that she had trouble getting the words out, and she ended up coughing. The man left her bedside, then returned a moment later with a plastic cup. He sat next to her and lifted her head to help her drink. The water tasted stale and unfiltered, but it was so soothing on her throat that she didn’t care.

As she drank, he spoke. “You’re in the infirmary of your state’s prison. We’ve converted it into a survivor camp. You were brought here last night, and I’ve been giving you fluids and vitamins. The tranquilizer they shot you with tends to leave people dehydrated, and according to your blood workup, whatever food you’ve been surviving on all this time was lacking in nutritional value.”

She finished drinking, and he pulled the cup away and wiped away the water that had dripped down her chin. She licked her lips and asked, “My baby. Can I see him?”

He looked down and away from her, and took a deep breath. Looking back at her, he said, “I’ll see what I can do. Do you have a name?”

“Hannah,” she said. “Hannah Jordan.”

He retrieved a clipboard from a tray near the bed and wrote on it. “And your baby?”

“Noah. He’s my brother. I’m all he has.” She swallowed and added, “He’s all I have.”

He returned the clipboard, then sat back on her bed. “Hannah, I’m Dr. Konstantin. I’m going to undo your restraints, but I need you to hold still until I unhook you from all of this. Okay?”

She nodded. As he unfastened the straps, she scanned the room for something to use as a weapon, but she saw nothing. Even if she did, she had nowhere to go. She didn’t even know where they were keeping Noah, or how to find her way out of this place. She needed to be smart, not reactionary. She needed to cooperate until she got her chance.

The doctor finished unhooking her from the IV and the monitor, and helped her sit up. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“A little groggy.”

He nodded. “That’s normal.” He got up and went to a cabinet. After rummaging through it, he returned with a little paper cup. He held it out to her. It contained two little orange pills. She looked at them skeptically. “Ibuprofen,” he explained. “For your headache.”

When she refused them, he shrugged. “Suit yourself. But I can’t think of a good reason to revive you and unstrap you if I was just going to drug you again.” He popped the pills in his own mouth and went to get some water to wash them down, leaving the tray on her bed. While his back was turned, she grabbed the tray and slid it under her shirt. It wasn’t very sturdy, but it would still hurt like hell if she used it to whack somebody upside the head.

“Anyway,” said the doctor as he returned, “you’re not the only one with a headache.” He smiled. It was a nice smile, the kind that lit up his whole face and made the skin crinkle appealingly around his eyes, which she noticed for the first time were icy blue, and slightly luminescent.

Hannah clenched the sheets in her fists as she drew back against the head of the bed. “You’re one of them.”

His smile faded. “That depends. Which ‘them’ do you mean?”

“Those people from last night. They wanted to kill me. They were going to eat my brother. I shot one of them, and he….”

“Ah, yes. Albert and Marie. Don’t worry, they’ve been dealt with. You’re safe here, Hannah. So is your brother. You have my word.”

“For whatever that’s worth,” said another voice. The click of heels on tile echoed throughout the mostly empty room, and the type of woman that Hannah could only think to describe as a bombshell came over to them. Her hair framed her pale face in soft curls so blonde they were almost white. She had the face of a movie star from the forties, and the figure to match. She wore a gray tweed skirt suit that looked like it belonged to the same era. Her shoes were high and red, the same shade as her lipstick, and her eyes matched the doctor’s. “I see our patient’s awake,” she said. “How close is she to ready?”

“Ready for what?” Hannah asked.

Ignoring her question, the doctor handed the woman the clipboard. “She’s slightly anemic. I’ve given her a vitamin drip, but she needs protein.”

“Hannah Jordan,” said the woman, reading her name off of the chart. She glanced up at the doctor. “Will she be ready by Thursday?”

“If you feed her well.”

“Why?” asked Hannah. “What happens Thursday?”

The woman smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. Unlike the doctor, her smile didn’t reach her eyes. She repressed a shudder as the woman leaned in close.

“On Thursday, you pay your rent.”

“But I…” Hannah swallowed. “I don’t have any money.”

The woman laughed. That, too, lacked warmth. It reminded Hannah of the girls in high school who would make fun of her for wearing clothes from Walmart, and it angered her as much as it chilled her.

Her laughter faded, and so did her smile, as she straightened up. “I am Esme,” she said, “and this is my house. I provide your kind with shelter and refuge from those… creatures walking around outside. You will repay my kindness with obedience and blood.”

“What if I’m not interested in your ‘kindness’?”

That chilly smile returned. “If that’s the case, then I’ll be happy to show you the front door.” She sashayed over to a small television monitor mounted high in one corner of the room, and turned it on. A black and white image flickered onto the screen, showing a throng of people, all of them showing various degrees of decay, pressing up against a high concrete wall, and against each other. They seemed oblivious to one another, intent only on somehow getting through that wall. Every one of them wore the same vacant, hungry stare that her mother had worn at the end. Hannah closed her eyes as Esme said, “You’re more than welcome to take your chances with them, if that’s what you prefer.”