Stories From the Shadowlands (23 page)

“No,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He sank to his knees and retched, the sick boiling up from his stomach and splattering on the concrete at Niko’s feet. The larger man grunted and stepped back, laughing as Jim’s body turned itself inside out, desperately trying to rid itself of the poison of his thoughts. And the half-bottle of tequila he’d sucked down. Jim had no idea how long he was down there, on his hands and knees, pathetic and weak. Time splintered.
He
splintered. Half of him was a hundred stories down, trying to glue Bomani back together, trying to reel back the last few moments and do something.
Anything
. Anything but what he’d done.

He’d stood by and watched as a good man died. He’d all but sentenced the man to death. A man who had earned his freedom. Who was trying to help him. And now… who knew what would happen to Bomani now. Would he come back through the gates of the city and have to start all over again?

Niko nudged Jim in the ribs with the pointed toe of his scaly shoe. “Hey. Jimmy. You ok? Tequila’s a rough drink, kid, I know.”

Somewhere, deep in Jim’s crushed heart, a light winked on. A red, pulsing light.

“Up, kid. We have some things to talk about.”

The light strobed, blinding and hot, causing Jim to squeeze his eyes shut and wrap an arm around his ribs. “No.”

Niko chuckled. “Hey, if you wanna stay down there, that’s all right with me. I’ve got all the time in the world.”

“You have less than you think,” Jim growled, bracing his palms against the rough cement.

The larger man’s face lost its amusement as Jim raised his head and looked him in the eye. “That’s no way to talk to your new business associate, Jimmy.”

“I’m not your business associate. And my name’s not Jimmy.” His muscles coiled tight and hot, throbbing with energy that had just found its direction.

Niko flexed his jaw. “I don’t suppose you’re interested in following your friend over the edge.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Don’t do this, kiddo,” called Amy. “Come on inside. We can have some fun before we get down to business. Trust me, I can make you forget your own name.”

Jim glanced over at her, and this time, he wasn’t surprised by what he saw. She looked like a carrion bird. Hooked nose, black, pitiless eyes, grasping claws. Her beauty was an illusion. Rebecca crouched by the ratty couch, shoving bread from his satchel into her scabby mouth, staring at him with beady, bloodshot eyes. It was
all
an illusion, one Jim had created and maintained in his own head. He’d only seen what he wanted to see.

For the moment, he could see clearly.

His eyes traveled back up to Niko, who towered over him. “Maybe I am,” he said again.

Niko gave him a look of contempt. “Your choice. You’re not so special, kid. We’ll collar another Guard. We don’t need you.”

“I don’t need you, either.”

Niko shrugged. “So be it.” He raised his leg to stomp Jim to the ground.

Jim was ready.

He lunged, hooking his arm under Niko’s massive thigh, bursting upward with all his strength. Niko’s eyes went wide as he fell against the railing of the balcony, his hands scrabbling for a grip. But it was too late. With one powerful shove, Jim knocked him over the edge and sent him plummeting.

Amy screeched and sprinted for the elevator door, reaching it just as Jim stalked back into the apartment. She scooped the knife from the floor and held it in front of her.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” said Jim.

“I’ll tell your Captain,” Amy snapped. “I’ll tell him everything.”

“I don’t care,” said Jim. “Go ahead.”

Her face contorted as she bared brown-stained, fuzzy looking teeth. “I’ll tell him you raped me. I’ll tell him you killed Niko because you were jealous.”

“You don’t get it, do you? You can’t do anything worse to me than what’s already going to happen.” Because he would be locked in the Quiet Chamber, and all he would have to keep him company would be Bomani’s fear-hazed, sad eyes at the moment he was thrown to his death, condemning him, destroying him.

He tried to reach for the elevator button, but Amy slashed the knife down, nearly cutting off his fingers. He took a swift step to the side, clapped his palm to the side of her head, and slammed her face against the metal elevator door. She slid to the floor, silent and boneless.

A whimper from behind him drew his eyes to Rebecca. She was still squatting, her eyes wide, her fists curled around twin handfuls of bread.

“Don’t kill me,” she pleaded. “I like this apartment.” She would probably throw Amy over the balcony before the other woman had a chance to regain consciousness, just so she wouldn’t have to share the apartment and whatever they had stashed in here.

Something in Jim’s chest twisted. How had he ever craved this? It was all shit. All of it. He tried to rub the ache away, but it only grew. “I have to go.”

She nodded, a quick jerk of her head, eager to see him disappear and let her enjoy her treasures alone.

He jabbed his finger at the elevator button, and the door slid open. “I hope it’s everything you wanted, Rebecca,” he said quietly as the door glided shut.

His mind was quiet until he reached the ground floor, numb from the loss of himself, from the knowledge that he was already so far beyond doomed that it was pointless trying to hide from it. Not only had he let a fellow Guard die without lifting a finger to stop it, he’d also killed a resident of the city, which was strictly forbidden. The only thing that was left to do was prepare himself for the pain that was coming.

He squinted as the elevator door opened and the light rushed in. He walked slowly through the lobby and then the doors to the outside. A huge crowd was gathered around the bodies that had hit the ground. Not out of concern or an effort to help; they were stripping what was left, taking anything of value. Niko’s gold-and-diamond teeth had probably been plucked by now. And Bomani… well, he’d had nothing of value. Except his soul.

Another tidal wave of guilt crashed over Jim, drowning him.

“Are you ready to go?”

Jim turned in place, searching for the owner of the voice, which sounded like it had come from inside his own head. “What?”

“I’ve been sent to retrieve you,” said the voice. And now Jim recognized it. Raphael. Servant of the Judge.

His heart picked up a galloping rhythm. “Where are you?”

“Come find me.”

Jim stepped forward, first shouldering past the churning crowd, then wading. The people nearest the bodies were on their hands and knees, a churning human sea. They pawed at the pavement, searching the bone fragments for something shiny, searching torn and bloody scraps of fabric for currency or treasure. Searching. Hungry. Jim wanted to kick them away. He was about to start doing exactly that when his gaze got stuck on the man kneeling in the very center of the crowd, near what was left of one of the bodies. Bomani’s body. Jim could tell by the uniform.

As if he’d felt the weight of Jim’s eyes, the man looked up. Freckled face, light brown hair. Raphael was completely ordinary looking in a sea of glittering, make-upped, manicured and perfumed creatures—who all looked like grimy beggars when Jim really focused on seeing through the illusion. But Raphael’s image didn’t waver or change.

He was real. A little
too
real for Jim’s liking.

Raphael smiled, and Jim had to look away. If he’d thought the lights in the city were blinding, they were nothing compared to this guy’s smile.

“Now that you’ve found me,” Raphael said, “I’ll ask you again. Are you ready to go?”

Jim looked up to see the man staring right at him. Raphael’s palm was spread across Bomani’s chest, which was the only part of him still recognizable, the only part of him that had held together after the collision with the pavement. “Can you fix him?” Jim asked. That was one of the things Raphael could do. He’d patched Jim up more than once. Hope rose within him, and he leaned over to peer at Bomani’s body. Was there a chance…?

He leapt back, his stomach heaving, as Raphael said, “It’s far too late for that, Jim.”

“Then what are you doing?” Jim’s voice was muffled because his hand was over his mouth, but Raphael had no trouble hearing him.

“Paying my respects.” Raphael’s gaze slid upward and he sighed. “Watch out.”

A few people screamed as another body came falling from the sky, landing with a splattering crunch on the hood of a car a few feet away from Jim. He didn’t have to turn his head to know it was Amy. Drops of her decorated the toes of his boots, but then she disappeared beneath the swell of people who descended on her, stripping her to the bone, scrounging in her remains for things they could keep.

“You’ve been busy tonight, Jim. Is this what you expected when you sneaked out of the Station?”

Jim’s gaze snapped back to Raphael. “Of course not. I was just—”
Hungry
. His lips clamped together.

Raphael tilted his head. “Are you hungry now?”

Jim shook his head.

“You will be. You know that, don’t you?”

Jim wanted to deny it, wanted to say that this was it, that he really saw things as they were now, that he’d learned his lesson. But with Bomani’s destroyed body laid out in front of him, he couldn’t bring himself to lie. Nothing had changed, not really. He drew in a painful breath.

“What do you think your punishment should be?” Raphael asked.

“I assume I’ll be thrown in the Quiet Chamber,” Jim said quietly, like he was talking to himself. “They may not ever let me out.”

Raphael chuckled and removed his hand from Bomani’s still, silent chest. “I think we’ve moved beyond the Quiet Chamber tonight, don’t you?” He got to his feet, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. Completely relaxed.

For half a moment, Jim considered taking off and sprinting up the block, through the alleys, disappearing into the city, burying himself as deep as he could. But one look in Raphael’s grey eyes told him the idea was laughable. He had no idea what Raphael could do, but something told me he really didn’t want to find out.

As if he’d heard Jim’s thoughts, Raphael smiled, blinding Jim once again. “You’re going to stand before the Judge and answer for your crimes.”

Chapter Six

Jim held his head high as he walked down the pristine white aisle, flanked on either side by the enormous Guards, who all looked at him coldly, like they knew what he’d done. Like they thought he was scum.

He wanted to tell them he agreed with them, but thought it might be a good idea to keep his mouth shut for once. At the front of the chamber, a woman sat at a white desk. Her long, blond hair fell in smooth waves over her shoulder. There were faint lines around her mouth and eyes, which were a startling blue. Jim didn’t know why, but the sight of her both comforted him and made him want to cry, something he never did. But this woman, the Judge… there was something… something he had to reach for, like it was folded deep within a memory of someone else’s life. But the more he rummaged inside his mind to make the connection, the more he came up empty.

Her haunting eyes were fixed on him. She was not smiling. “I hadn’t expected to see you back so soon, Jim,” she said solemnly.

“Neither had I, Your Honor.”

“But you understand why.”

“Yes.”

She stood up, her white robe falling in perfect folds around her body. “Was the Blinding City everything you were looking for, darling boy?”

Jim sank to his knees. That was what she’d said to him last time he was here, right before she’d sentenced him to Guard the city. She’d said, “I hope it’s everything you’re looking for.”

“Not quite,” he breathed.

She let out a soft, musical burst of laughter. “What was missing?”

“None of it was real. Not really.”

“But you wanted it anyway.”

“Yes.”

“And now? Do you still want it?”

He met her eyes, and in them he saw the danger—and the knowledge. “You know all my answers already.”

She grinned, her teeth glistening under the lights. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“I still want it. Some of it. Parts of it.”

She glided toward him in that eerily smooth way of hers, one that gave him chills. “Which parts?”

He sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t deserve any of it.”

Her laugh was brighter and sharper this time, ringing in his ears. “A more true statement has never been spoken.” Then her laughter died, along with her smile. Her eyes turned glacial. “Bomani was a good Guard. A very good Guard who served admirably. He had nearly broken the shackles of his addiction. He was almost ready for the Countryside.”

“I know,” he whispered. “Where… where is he now? Did you let him out, or did he have to start all over in the Blinding City?”

The lines around her mouth deepened. “Another thing you do not deserve. His welfare is obviously of no concern to you. He was merely an inconvenience, and you treated him accordingly. He got in the way of your pleasure, and nothing is more important than your pleasure, is it, darling?”

Jim bowed his head in shame.

“Would you like to see the place I reserve for people like you? People who treat other humans like things to be used or discarded? It’s the perfect place for you.”

He didn’t want to look. He told himself he wouldn’t, that he’d postpone the moment for as long as he could. But against his will, his chin lifted, and he found himself staring past the Judge’s desk, at a grey, desolate land. Jagged peaks jutted up like daggers from the earth. Overhead, enormous birds of prey circled, their talons dripping red and viscous, their eyes dead. “What is that place?” He couldn’t control the tremor in his words.

“It’s the Wasteland,” said a hollow voice. A man’s voice. “You think you’ve been in hell, but you don’t know what hell really is.”

Jim turned his head to see a man, a tall, gangly, skeletal-looking creature with thinning grey hair and dust-colored eyes.

The Judge glided over to the thin man, rising slowly from the floor to look at him eye to eye. Her robes swirled around her, keeping whatever lay beneath them invisible. “Are you ready, Henry?”

Jim stared at the man. Was he here to take Jim to the Wasteland? The guy looked like a native of the place. His eyes said it all. Like he’d been filled up with horror again and again, until it leaked out of his pores and oozed out his ears. Henry turned his head and stared at Jim, hitting him with the full force of those haunted eyes, until Jim wanted to hide his face. Was this what he would look like after a few years of trying to survive in the Wasteland?