New Regime (26 page)

She whirled, slashing her claws through the air, hoping she
could give the monstrous infants a quick death.

They were untrainable, and they were uncontrollable.

Their newness, their infancy, should have made them
relatively easy to take down. There was a learning curve to magic, after all.

The hard part for her was committing the act—but she went
after them with the intent to kill, shutting herself off to the emotions trying
to cloud her mind.

Her children were unintentional enemies.

“Rune,” Eugene yelled. “We need them.”

So the Annex guards weren’t there to take out the babies.
No. Eugene wanted to study them. Wanted to bottle the magic. And maybe he wanted
to grow his own monstrous army.

The Annex ops were there to try to prevent Rune from hurting
the babies.

Once again the berserker roared his rage, but she had no
time to see what was keeping him from her.

She sent her claws through the chest of the monster closest
to her, dragging them through the delicate bit of flesh, slicing through its
heart, before lifting her left hand to do the same to the other child.

The children screamed.

Their screams weren’t merely the screams of pain, or even
rage. They were the screams of the birds, only a hundred times more potent.

Rune realized even as she fell to the floor, her hands over
her ears, that they’d plucked that out of Levi’s head when they’d fed.

They’d taken his memories and turned them into abilities.

“Rune,” the berserker yelled.

She looked up then, looked up because she needed help. She
needed Strad, and she needed her crew.

She’d thought the hardest part in killing the twins would be
her emotional connection to them.

She’d been wrong.

And Strad wasn’t coming to help.

He stabbed at an invisible field with his spear, his face
screwed up in a desperate grimace as he tried to break through.

And though sparks flew as he beat savagely at the unseen
wall, it didn’t give.

The babies had surrounded themselves—and Rune—with a circle
of magic too strong to breech.

Rune was on her own.

The suffocating magic grew stronger, trying to get a grip on
her lungs, her brain. Panic began to take hold.

I can’t breathe.

I don’t need to.

Shut it the fuck out.

At least Levi and Denim had gotten out. There was always a
bright side.

She lowered her hands and climbed to her feet, forcing
herself to function through the dominating bird screams and the suffocating
magic. The infants mouths were open, their eyes unchanging as they released the
sounds that would have wreaked havoc upon a normal enemy.

The Annex ops clutched their weapons and fled.

Her crew stayed, their loyalty and love stronger than the
children’s crippling screams.

Only the berserker was able to remain upright. Even Raze had
fallen to his knees, his hands over his ears, trying unsuccessfully to shut out
the horror inside those screams.

“Shut up,” Rune screamed, and she thrust her claws through
the open mouth of the girl on the left.

A mouth she could barely reach.

The twins’ bodies had lengthened in their latest, strangest
growth spurt. They swayed on legs too long and thin to resemble anything
remotely normal. Their torsos were short and thick. Large, heavy heads wobbled
on necks like mushroom stems, too weak to hold the weight.

They no longer looked human.

She could only hold on to the hope that they would have a
weak spot. Every being had a weak spot. Even Damascus. Surely the children
would be no different.

She just had to find it.

One of the twins struck before Rune was aware she was going
to, her speed faster than even Rune’s.

The child drove her claws into Rune’s chest.

Rune screamed in agony as she clutched at the razor-sharp
claws, her own retracting as she tried to dislodge the monster from her heart.

But she couldn’t. Her legs gave out and she fell as
paralysis hit her. The child’s claws had changed to obsidian.

But then…

The girl fell with her.

In seconds, they both understood exactly what the weakness
of the mutated Others was.

Levi’s injuries hadn’t affected the girls.

Rune’s did.

She
was their weak spot.

The child yanked her claws from Rune’s chest, crying out in
pain.

The twins were Rune’s.

And she’d have to destroy herself to destroy them.

But first…

She sped to the invisible wall the girls had thrown up, glad
it was there. It would protect the crew she loved.

“Berserker,” she whispered. “Turn away. Turn away from me.”

“No,” he said. “Rune, no.”

But he knew what she would do. She would protect the world,
if she could.

She would destroy the evil. For that was why she existed.

Her father’s words were true.

“Turn away, baby,” she told him.

He shook his head, his face pale, his scar a stark reminder
of the violence they lived. “I can’t be without you now.”

How would she feed him if she died?

And Levi and Denim. She’d addicted them only to leave them?

But if she left the twins of magic alive, they would not be
stopped by Annex ops. They would kill the world.

Her crew gathered beside Strad. Lex had appeared, her blind
eyes dancing crazily, her face wet with tears. Someone had pulled Levi back
inside and he lay against the wall, still but watchful.

A movement at the door drew her attention, and for a
millisecond she forgot the babies waiting behind her.

Owen stood inside the doorway, his fists clenched.

He was always going to dwell a little on the fringe. Alone.

And his eyes, his eyes…

His eyes were terrible.

“The monsters are creeping up behind you,” Lex said. “But
they don’t know what to do.”

“That’s okay, Lex,” Rune said. “I do.”

“Wait,” Raze said, his voice so low and harsh she could
barely hear him. “Wait a minute.”

Ellie ran into the room, his hand on his chest. “What,” he
cried. “No. Rune?”

He ran into the field with such a force it knocked the
breath from him. He staggered back and fell to his knees. “Rune,” he begged,
when he could breathe again. “You said you wouldn’t leave me here alone.”

She couldn’t stand their pain.

“Go to Levi,” she told Ellie.

Jack’s one visible eye swam with tears. He said nothing.

Bill Rice and Elizabeth stood in the doorway then, watching
her, their hands clasped.

Her people.

She processed it all in seconds. Mere seconds.

Then she turned away. Turned toward the girls.

Death waited, and Rune was ready.

She’d always been ready.

The children stood huddled together, watching her, unsure. Their
doubt made them seem once again vulnerable, human.

But they changed as she walked to them.

It was either fight or die, and they wanted to survive.
They’d plucked a huge bag of tricks from Levi’s blood, and they were made up of
Rune Alexander.

They’d fight.

She was grateful that along with their abilities they hadn’t
been cursed with love.

The thought made her throw one last glance at the berserker.

His spear lay forgotten on the floor as he stood outside the
impenetrable circle, watching her with a fierceness that said he would not look
away. He would not.

No matter what he had to witness.

“I’ll never leave you, Rune.”

“Not even if I want you to?”

“Not even then.”

She dropped her fangs.

The girls mimicked her.

Once upon a time she’d not only been ready to die—she’d
wanted
to die.

She drew that remembered despair to her. She pictured the
parents who’d adopted her. She remembered Amy. She opened the part of her mind
behind which she’d hidden her shame, her guilt.

She thought of Jeremy, of Llodra.

She thought of life without the berserker and Ellie and her crew.

And then, she remembered Z. His life, his death, his
absence.

Z.

And she killed the monsters in the only way she could.

By killing herself.

She put the fingertips of both hands to her body—one hand to
her throat and one to her heart—and without another hesitation she shot out her
built-in shivs with more force than she’d ever used, having time for a barely
there realization that it fucking
hurt,
and then, then there was
nothing.

But suddenly, there was.

There were sounds of stomping feet and yells of rage and
screams. Flashes of light through her eyelids.

It was a symphony of confusion and she couldn’t make sense
of it.

Surely she was dead.

“Z?” she asked.

I’m here, sweet thing. Always.

For an instant she was back in the field of zombies, lying
there as the infection did its best to wipe her out, with strange voices inside
her mind.

“I know you. How did I forget?”

How, indeed.

“The fuck are you?” she muttered. Or thought she did.

The world tilted.

She remembered finally how to open her eyes. Ellie peered
down at her, his face pale but calm—and she knew from experience it was the
calm of extreme crisis. He’d crumble later, when he had time.

She smiled.

He did not return that smile.

“The babies are dead?” she tried to ask him, but the words
didn’t form because her voice was…air.

Then Strad was there, but he didn’t take her from Ellie.

“What is she?”

She was confused for a moment but then figured she’d
misheard. He’d asked “How is she?”

Hadn’t he?

The world tilted again.

“You’re strong,” Ellis whispered. He never took his gaze off
her. Not once. “You’re so strong.”

“Hurry,” Strad yelled. “Hurry the fuck up.”

Her eyesight was dimming. She wanted to grab Strad, to hold
on to him, but she couldn’t move her arms.

She was fading. Whatever was inside her, the spark, the
life, was fading.

She couldn’t feel anything.

Paralyzed.

She hadn’t beheaded herself—she’d paralyzed herself. And
that fucking sucked.

“God, Rune,” Ellie cried. “God!”

Annex ops ran and tripped and talked in low, fast voices.

Eugene was there—she heard him shouting orders. “Careful,”
he yelled, his animation unfamiliar.

“We’re all here, Rune. We’re all right beside you.”

“She can’t,” Jack mumbled. “She can’t.”

“Shut up, Jack,” Raze growled.

“Rune,” Lex cried. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

For what?

“I’m okay,” Levi told her, though she couldn’t ask. His
words reassured her.

But she kept fading. Layers of cotton nestled her in their
warm fluffiness. There was no pain. Not then.

Voices were dim. Not real.

“No,” Strad roared, his explosion of horror so abrupt and dismayed
it brought her back, somewhat.

Two Annex ops were pushing a cot toward her. Likely the
children. The dead, monstrous children.

But then she understood Strad’s cry of horror.

She understood what he hadn’t wanted her to see.

A leg hung off the gurney, a leg as familiar to her as her
own.

Because it
was
her own.

She’d managed to decapitate herself after all.

It just hadn’t killed her.

Oh.

Oh no.

She was a brain in a jar.

A brain in a jar.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. Couldn’t cry out. A
numbing darkness descended, and when she next woke up…

She had her body.
She had her body.

“Fuck me,” she screamed, and lifted her hand to stare at it
with overwhelming relief. Her throat hurt, but she ignored it. She’d pierced it
with her claws. Of course it hurt.

Ellie bent over her. “Rune? Rune!”

His eyes were bloodshot in the midst of his drained, pale
face, and his hair, normally so neat and clean, clung in limp strands to his
cheeks.

She frowned. “What’s wrong, baby?”

He gaped at her, then put his hand over his mouth and
started giggling, his eyes too wide. “What’s
wrong,
she says. What’s
wrong?”

Strad appeared behind Ellie and lowered him gently into a
bedside chair.

 And then, he turned to face her.

“You’re back.” His voice was so raw it hurt her to hear it.

She was in one of the Annex hospital wards. A sheet covered
her body. A bag of blood hung on a pole. The sight was familiar and strangely
comforting.

Owen stood against the wall, watching her. When she looked
at him, he blinked once, slowly, then left the room without a word.

“I dreamed…” But then she shook her head, grimacing at the
pain in her neck, her throat, and didn’t say what she’d dreamed. “The babies?”

“Dead,” Strad said, caressing her cheek with the back of his
hand. Over and over and over. “They didn’t survive your…what you did. Eugene
had them cremated. If not for him…” Then it was his turn to cut off his words.

She owed Eugene, then.

“As soon as you cut yourself,” he finally continued, “the
field dropped and we were able to get inside.” He tightened his lips into a
hard line but not before she saw the trembling there.

And that scared her more than anything.

“What happened to me?” she asked. “It wasn’t a dream, was
it?”

The berserker shook his head. “No, sweetheart.”

“How…” She ran her hand over her body. “How am I okay?”

“You can’t die, Rune. You can never die.”

She ignored his words. She had to. “Did I decapitate myself?
Did I shred my heart?”

He swallowed, looked away, then forced himself to meet her
stare. “Yes,” he whispered.

Her eyes were dry. So dry. “How did you fix me?”

“Eugene had Annex doctors wrap you in something I’d never
heard of. Some sort of…flesh bandages. It’s been a month. Your body
reattached.”

She’d been lying there for an entire month, reattaching
parts she’d deliberately severed.

She wasn’t dead.

“The babies?” she asked again.

“They’re dead,” Strad answered. Again.

“The one the sheriff took?”

“Not yet.”

She ran her fingers over her concave belly and up over ribs
so prominent she flinched. She was a monster.

And she could never die.

There was no longer any doubt.

Once upon a time that thought would have sent her screaming
into the depths of a black despair too deep to climb out of. It would have
shoved her headfirst into madness.

She took Strad’s hand, frowning at the shakiness in his
fingers. “A month?”

He nodded.

Shit. He and the twins had been dealing not only with the
horror of her decapitation, but with their addictions as well. They’d been
mired in withdrawals for the last fucking month.

“Help me sit up, Berserker. Ellie, go get the twins. They
need to feed.”

“No,” Ellie said, but slowly, it seemed to dawn on him that
she was really okay. “The twins?”

She nodded and hung on to the berserker’s arm as he helped
her sit up. “Their withdrawals must be killing them.”

Ellis stared at her for a moment longer, his mouth working
but nothing coming out. Then he turned and fled the room.

The berserker watched her with glittering eyes that made him
look, to her, half mad. A month, watching her, wondering…

He smelled of freshness, of outdoors. She spotted his spear
leaning against the wall behind him. He’d clubbed his long hair into a ponytail
and let it fall over his back, and had dressed in a simple dark T-shirt and
khakis.

As usual, he wore a variety of weapons. He crossed his arms,
his muscles bulging. She wanted to grab him, to hold him, to feel him. To soak
in some of his vitality.

She pulled the IV from her arm and tossed it away, then
reached up to smooth her hair. She would look like death. And death was rarely
pretty.

Her arms grew tired from that little bit of activity, and
she lowered them to her lap.

Finally, she met his stare.

“Berserker,” she said, almost afraid, and not quite
understanding her new hesitancy. “I…will you—”

He growled, and in that sound was every horror and every
pain that had tormented him over the last month. He leaned forward and yanked
her off the bed, into his arms, and squeezed her so hard she couldn’t breathe.

“Damn you,” he whispered.

“We kicked ass, didn’t we?”

He blew out a hard breath. “We fucking did.”

She wrapped her arms around his warm neck and pressed her
lips against his soft, familiar skin.

“How is Fie?” she asked.

“She…” he hesitated, and in that hesitation was her answer.
“She’s alive.”

“And Bill?”

She could feel his frown. “Bill?”

Later. Later, she’d worry about Bill.

“Berserker,” she murmured, then repeated the words he’d said
to her weeks ago. “You’re mine.”

He pulled back and stared at her. He said nothing.

She smiled, and her lips, in their dryness, cracked. She had
to say it again. “You’re mine. But you know that, don’t you?”

All the bad shit in the world still waited, and that was
okay.

Because she had the berserker.

She had her crew.

She had her life.

And at that moment, it was really just that fucking simple.