Cogs in Time Anthology (The Steamworks Series) (31 page)

Draegan fashioned a tubing system with an attached spigot to his arm from factory leftovers along the Thames. He could tap into his blood stream at will, infecting at will. Draegan spilled his blood on Violet’s lips, thick drops of sticky blue blood. She lay immobile until he reached into her mouth, grabbing her tongue until she licked the blood from him. He waited patiently as she slowly blinked away her confusion and disorientation.

Violet sat up and looked around, seeing no one as Draegan watched from above, most pleased. Her face recoiled into a strange sneering grimace as she looked at her chest, bleeding into her clothing where Draegan had etched his message. Her hands rubbed the blood all around her neck and arms until she was coated in a thin sheen of crimson. She lay in her blood, sweat and drool, floating in the evil recesses of her mind.

“My blood!” she yelled.

Draegan was pleased. The insanity had taken root.

***

Luca knew he had to use the organic information port. A small brass device, fashioned with a receiver, along with a small chip for magnetic resonance and replay, used to gather information from organic memory. He knew the tree and its soil would have the answers.

Luca felt the quiet of the city in his bones, as if the East End existed in a vacuum where sound was neither transmitted nor produced. The sour scent of fear hung around the corners, dripping down the brick walls.

The fog covered the trees along the road, except for the one he sought. The tree stood brightly like a beacon, beckoning Luca forward. He rested his head along the trunk, its leaves brushed against his cheek.

“Where is the woman who laid here? The proxy for Astrid.” Luca whispered into the evening air. He knelt to the ground, tracing his hands down the gnarled bark.

Luca closed his eyes and emitted a low tone from the back of his throat. The wind stopped as the street fell completely silent. Luca saw a woman, injured but alive, covered in blood and twisted with madness. He tried to find her mind, but could not align his mental waves with her insanity.

“Where is she, if she is not dead?” he asked into the night air. He rested on the wet grass, staring into the canopy of the tree. “Where did she lie?” The ground under him swelled as if a large serpent slithered beneath him.

Luca sat up, pulling a small blade from his pocket, attached to the organic information port. The handle merged with Luca’s hand as he knelt, bowing to the ground.

“I ask for your memories,” he chanted into the grass and soil. “I ask that your cells release its information so that I may cleanse this city.” He dug the blade and port into the ground. A flash of blue light came out of the ground and sparks crawled up Luca’s arm.

“Give to me what you have witnessed.” The blade and port were firmly submerged, and Luca felt the vibration of the connection as the organic matter collected its memory and accepted the cell connection. “Release your cell memory. I promise to respect and value this information.” Luca’s voice was low and humble. His entire demeanor was cloaked with humility as he uttered the words like a prayer.

Thick waves of blue energy flowed from the undulating ground into the blade, to the port, and then into Luca, slowly inching towards his brain. He still knelt, unmoving, with his eyes closed, immersed in the connection.

The blue energy from the ground dissipated and slowed to a trickle. As it receded back into the soil, Luca opened his eyes. As he stood, he saw the Violet’s outline on the ground, her legs crumpled behind her and her arms twisted. Her corset was ripped and her skin was shredded along her neck and décolleté.

He looked down on the image, the memory of her surroundings, and could see blood. Blood everywhere. Her fingers ripped at her own throat and followed the rips of flesh along her neck. Smearing herself in her own blood, she smiled. Her light blue eyes looked up and in the reflection of her pupils, he saw him. Draegan was there.

“My blood!” The woman yelled with madness.

Luca knelt to the image from the past and in her flesh, he saw the message Draegan had left for him.

My blood is a never-ending river, and in it, you will drown

Chapter Ten

Let There Be Blood

Draegan knelt, deep in thought, at the old altar of St. Botolph’s Church. He lifted the crucifix that stood above him, throwing it into the corner where it mocked him still. His sharp hearing ascertained the sounds of the wind dancing through the bushes along the cemetery gates. It rushed through the fog and the city around the old church, now empty and untouched, in a reckless manner. However, he was waiting for another sound, the sound that would mark the beginning of the end.

His long nails scratch at the tubing on his arm, the spigot was tightly fastened on his forearm, ready to spread the virus. Finally, he heard the chime of the clock tower. The clock stood at the corner of the road, ornately covered in ivy and overgrown vines. It chimed twice, yelling out to the quiet night. Like a sleeping corpse suddenly awakened by a far away cry, Draegan scrambled to stand. His large body swayed, weakened by the virus.

He walked the streets of Gravesend like a ghost. He moved slowly, conserving his energy for what he knew would soon be the end. He made his way through Romney Road and Northfleet, not hesitating or faltering once to reach his destination.

The palatial manor stood like an able opponent. Gold and black gates stretched to the night sky, the spikes on the top were so high that they merged into the fog. From outside the concrete walls on the north side, Draegan could smell the damp grass and he could smell Astrid.

***

Luca felt an uncomfortable stillness blocking him from the human girl, a sense of peril and hazard hung around his thoughts of her. He sat on her ledge, the cold stone unyielding, as he watched her sleep fitfully through the night.

He entered her room, quickly pulling back the velvet drapes. A small gaslight was near her bed, flickering in the night air. Luca knelt on the small woven carpet at her bedside, holding her small hand in his. Instantly, his mind filled with images from her sub-conscious realm.

He entered the organized rooms of her thoughts as she slept, filled with drawers and cupboards. Opening one drawer after another, he found memories of her childhood, organized in tidy rows, all pleasant. Each drawer he opened glowed with a warm orange radiance. Then he walked deeper, feeling pulled and sucked backwards.

He crouched into the darker recess. A small locked door, surrounded by black haze and rust, was hidden in a corner of her thoughts. Crawling towards it on his stomach, he gently pushed open the door. Despite the lock, the door creaked open with ease, yet was hot to the touch.

Peeking in the small, hidden door in Astrid’s mind, he saw the gray-eyed child. Beautiful and robust, the child smiled. As she reached to Luca, she was pulled backwards into a windy tunnel, sucked away from him as a score of butterflies flew outward, crashing into him.

Astrid’s voice echoed in the tunnel, and he saw her hands groping in the air for the lost child.

“Astrid!” he called to her as he ran from her thoughts. He felt the warmth of her hand as he opened his eyes. Her expression was worse than death; her eyes glazed over with stone cold fear.

“The child is in danger,” she cried into the night as her fists pounded her bed and clawed at her sheets.

Luca stroked her hair back from her face, but she didn’t acknowledge the act or his presence. He cradled her face in his hands, staring into her eyes, willing the anguish to leave her mind and body. As Astrid calmed, exhausted with fright and fear, Luca guided her shoulders to her bed, and she sank back into sleep.

As a bolt of electricity jarred the room, Astrid sat up. Her spine was unnaturally erect, and her face twisted into a snarl. She ran to the window, dragging her quilt behind her.

Luca watched in horror, frozen in place.

She leaned against the windowsill. Lifting her arm, she pointed in the direction of London.

“Luca! There lies my enemy. There lies my life and my death. Bring it to me!” She shouted into the gardens, waking the dogs on the grounds.

Luca managed to free himself from the icy grip that held him in place, startled at Astrid’s riddle. Her face looked unfamiliar and changed. Astrid threw her head back and forth in a frenzied fit. Her hair was in violent disarray as she ripped at her lilac satin nightdress.

“Bring it,” she growled like a feral wolf. “It lies at the foot of the cross.” Her voice was guttural and forced. She banged against the walls as if she were a ragdoll thrown by an invisible force. “Go. I can take no more.”

Luca hesitated for a moment, but left in hopes of finding what lie at the foot of the cross. For what lie there, in the sanctuary, must save Astrid.

Chapter Eleven

Tea in the Sahara

Luca hastened towards the Gravesend Church that Astrid’s trembling hands had pointed to. All around him, the town had taken on a visceral and brutal life.

The virus that Draegan had unleashed spread throughout the city. Scores of Gravesenders breathed the infection, breeding it, and spreading it. Some men scaled walls in restless rage, their roving rabid eyes twitching in their sockets. Others, less far along in the infection, simply walked while convulsing and contorting. Still others howled like dogs or mewed like cats along the walkways.

Luca covered his mouth with a handkerchief in an attempt to thwart the entrance of the virus. The side alleyways stunk of rotting corpses left to decay unburied. Some streets were littered with fetid and half-eaten corpses, the smell of blood and rot clung to the air.

Luca felt the lining of his robes. He clutched his ray gun; the cool handle calmed his nerves as he walked over men and woman lying along the roadways. Their faces writhed and twisted into unnaturally furious expressions.

It was unusual for Luca to feel anxious walking the streets of his home. Even as a child, he had felt tremendously calm and confident as he strolled along the streets.

That was before there was Astrid. It was no longer just him, and he was no longer alone. His nerves had heightened since meeting Astrid. Her strength amazed him as she had twisted in her sleep to uncover the meaning of her dreams.

As he walked through the cacophony of shrill human screams and moans, the smell of offal assaulted him. He picked up his pace and a familiar voice sounded in his ear, a deep guiding voice of comfort. Luca spun around to look, but he knew it was Mordecai.

He had always loved Mordecai and missed the experience and care that shimmered in his eyes, along with his patient listening. However, instead of relief, he felt a shudder of fear crawl down his spine. For, ever since he had become involved with Astrid, he dreaded the very moment when he would have to see Mordecai.

Luca fell, stumbling over a buckled crack in the walkway. He rose, speechless, and began to jog forward.

“I know you’ve been hiding from me,” said Mordecai. “I know what you need to say to me. And yet, I would like to hear it from your lips.”

Mordecai’s cold and leering voice made Luca’s heart freeze inside his chest. He looked in all directions to try to find Mordecai, but failed.

“She will die soon,” Mordecai said flatly. “And you will regret your weakness for the rest of your life.” The voice was tight with anger and tinged with bitterness, qualities unknown to Luca.

Luca had expected a negative reaction, but not one so cold. For the love they had shared between them, he had hoped Mordecai would have a gentler heart.

An icy wind enveloped Luca from four sides, rendering him frozen and immobile. His stomach churned in revulsion and his skin prickled with cold. Luca stood there, in the streets of madness, an icy statue.

The air whistled around him, a shrill high-pitched tone, and the cold dissipated. Luca could breathe again, he lungs freed from the icy prison.

“I didn’t mean to,” Luca gasped, trying to explain himself, though no one was around to listen, no one sane anyway. “It just happened. I was trying to stop Draegan. But now, it is like nothing else I have ever felt. The world is a thing of beauty.”

The wind hurled itself around him, squeezing him. “I never meant to hurt you, or to disobey you, Mordecai.” He yelled into the wind tunnel that trapped him in place. Luca’s voice choked with emotion as he uttered the words that emerged from the deepest part of his being. Trapped in the vortex of the wind, he felt a stab in his spine. Along with the stab, came the sound of Astrid’s voice pleading with him to go and find what lay at the foot of the cross.

The wind died in an instant, he struggled to regain his balance and footing as his senses zoomed in on the task at hand, to find the message at the foot of the crucifix. He ran against the wind, against the madness and against time.

***

How peaceful her disgusting face looks. And him, a love of the lowest kind.
 
Draegan peeked through the velvet curtains into the stillness of Astrid’s room. He had climbed his way up her stonewalls with ease, scanning her entire house with his mind. He had no doubts. After being imprisoned by Mordecai and rejected by the High Table and his own brother, in spite of his own genetic superiority, he felt liberated to do his own destructive bidding.