Burning

Elliot was watching again as the two men worked the soil, tilling the ground with their jawbone tools. He tried to turn and run, but every way he faced, they stood before him. Unable to escape, he tried to call out a warning to the fairer brother, as the darker one raised his till high. But it was no use. His voice hissed out like a breath of wind, though he tried to shout with all the air in his lungs. He struck his brother soundly in the head. His kinsman fell to the ground and tried to crawl away, and Elliot leapt to intervene. He placed his body between them. The brother struck again, and again, each blow passing through Elliot’s body like he himself was air. Blood splashed across the broken earth and he stepped quickly away, so his bare feet weren’t stained by the crimson flow. And then it seemed as if the murderer caught sight of him. He raised his head and their eyes met.

Justin cracked grimy eyes open. He was lying on his back, looking up at a concrete ceiling. His stomach growled and he moved his hand to press on it. Something heavy was on his leg. There was movement in his peripheral vision and he turned his head to look. Alyssa had heard his stomach and seen his hand move and came forwards with a shiny thermos in her hands. She sat on the bedside and put a finger to her lips before pointing to his leg. He raised his head weakly. Elliot was reclining against his leg, fast asleep, an open book splayed open beside his head.

Alyssa helped him sit up carefully, so as not to disturb the slumbering boy as his leg retracted. She unscrewed the thermos lid and poured the thick contents into it for him. He raised it to his lips and drank, letting loose a barely-audible moan. He lowered the empty cup and his lips were stained red. She poured another cupful.

‘Best. Invention. Ever.’ He smacked his lips.

‘The thermos?’

‘Yeah! It keeps the hot stuff hot and the cold stuff cold.’ He started guzzling down the second cup

Alyssa raised an eyebrow and smirked. ‘How does it know?’ As she poured him a third helping and he set to work on it, she nodded her head at the sleeping boy. ‘Your boyfriend heals a helluva lot faster than you.’

Justin coughed into the cup. ‘He’s not my boyfriend. I don’t think. Yet anyway.’

‘Yeah. Right. I guess he watches over and falls asleep on everyone’s leg while they’re recovering.’

‘How long have I been out?’

‘About a week.’

Justin raised his eyebrows. ‘He’s been here every day?’

‘Pretty much. When Danielle and Tess haven’t been keeping him busy.’

‘How so?’

‘Educating him.’ She shrugged. ‘He had a lot of questions after reading the Duatal. Tess has been helping him understand and start controlling Duat as well. Danielle’s mostly just been teaching him how to kick as much ass as we do. He’s a quick study. Better than your sloppy ass.’ She let a wry smile play across her lips. ‘Pee ess: way to get shot.’

‘Way to lead them to us.’ He shot back. The smile faltered and then fell from her lips and he immediately regretted it as he felt the guilt start to well up in her. He changed the subject quickly. ‘Speaking of which, have there been any—‘

‘No. As far as the government’s concerned, we’ve fallen off the map.’

‘How much longer do you think that’ll last?’

She sighed. ‘Not much. Byron’s already looking for somewhere else. Maybe another city…’

Elliot stirred, disturbed by their voices. Alyssa noticed and gave Justin a quick peck on the cheek before winking and making a hasty exit from the room.

Elliot’s head jerked up off the bed and Justin caught a flash of something like terror and panic in his eyes before the boy fixed on him and his face was split by a grin. Though he noticed that the look didn’t entirely disappear from his eyes. He lunged at Justin and wrapped his arms around him, burying his face in his chest.

Justin winced and hissed through his teeth. Elliot recoiled.

‘I’m sorry! Are you ok?’

Justin nodded and smiled, although his chest still burned. Byron had spent hours cutting into his only recently healed flesh to dig out the bullets. Nor had Justin had the luxury of losing consciousness—something he was hardly thankful of. He lifted his shirt stiffly, the blood slowly starting to work back into and rejuvenate his limbs. Once the shirt was off, he picked for the edges of the tape on one of the bandages. He peeled it back slowly, gritting his teeth. The wound underneath was still red and swollen.

‘Wow, you heal really slowly!’ Elliot raised his own shirt to his neck, revealing a blemish-less, sculpted chest. Of his own wounds, there was no sign.

Justin stared at his revealed body, his throat tightening. Their eyes met, held fast, and then Elliot looked away sheepishly, and slowly lowered his shirt again.

Changing the subject, Justin nodded to the book by his feet. ‘How’s it going?’

‘I’m almost done actually… I was going to try to read the tome soon.’

‘Already? You’ve only been at it a week!’

‘I know, but it’s been so easy to pick up… everything has, actually.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Uh, I guess I should let you rest. I need to get up early anyway so Danielle and I can keep working.’

Justin put his hand out and slipped it over Elliot’s wrist, just letting it rest. ‘You could stay here if you want. I don’t mind.’

The boy smiled and sank onto the bed. ‘Alright’ He pushed the book off with his feet and then curled on his side, facing Justin still. After a while, he raised his arm tentatively and draped it across Justin’s waist. Neither said anything. He smiled, and burrowed his head into the soft pillow. After so long a rest, Justin found himself unable to sleep. He focused his energies and thoughts on healing his chest, this time much more slowly and carefully than before. He didn’t want to do a shoddy job and leave a scar. When he was finally finished, he sank back into the bed, sliding his body down so he was no longer sitting. Elliot’s arm passed up to his abdomen and gripped his side briefly, before relaxing again.

His eyes dropped shut, and then, just barely, he saw something pass above him. Opening his eyes again, he saw nothing though. It was only as he finally began to drift off to sleep that something did happen.

Rather than a sense of settling sleep, he felt as if an oppressive blanket of darkness were descending over him. He struggled against it, but it forced him down again, as if pressing him down into a pool of water. Then two spots of light formed above him. They burnt into him with judgmental ferocity. He felt Elliot stirring beside him, but the darkness separated them. Finally, the shadows broke apart and he felt a hand gently touching his shoulder. It was Byron.

‘Hey, Alyssa said you woke up last night.’

Had it really been that long already? He turned his head, noticing Elliot’s arm was no longer draped across his midriff. He was gone. ‘Where’s…?’

‘Come. I’ll show you.’ He helped him rise and led him out onto the catwalk, handing him another thermos of still-warm blood.

Justin sipped it and enjoyed the energizing sustenance flow into his system. Down below in the open factory floor, Danielle and Elliot were deep in a training session. Danielle had him in a fighting stance. She’d walk around him correcting his limbs with the aide of a broken-off car antenna. Then, when she was satisfied, she’d slide the antenna in on itself, slip it into her pocket, and strike a stance herself, before gesturing for him to come at her. Justin winced as he remembered from his own training, what would come next. Sure enough, as he charged her, her foot darted out, caught his ankle and applied just enough pressure to send him sprawling.

            Elliot got to his feet and dusted himself off, before taking his stance again. But this time, it was as if his body remembered her corrections. She circled him, but found nothing wrong and took up her own position. He came at her, her foot darted out, he moved his foot clear of the offending appendage by raising it and kicking out at her midriff. She only just caught it with her hands, grabbed it and pushed back, toppling him over.

            He rolled quickly though, and sprang at her once more. Justin certainly never did that in his training. He started throwing blows, and kicking out at her. He almost shouted down for Elliot to stop, but Byron’s hand on his arm quieted him. Danielle blocked each one, but his attacks were coming with growing speed and ferocity. She started to throw in her own strikes, and he began to back up. Her hands found his chest and he flew backwards across the dusty floor, but managed to stay on his feet. She ran at him, and he turned, running towards the wall. His feet left the ground, met the rusted-metal wall, and he flipped over her as she turned.

            He never even landed. She pivoted on the spot and met him as he came down with a kick to his chest. The blow carried him through the air until the side of a car stopped him. His body cracked the glass windows, and he sagged to the ground, breathing raggedly.

            ‘I need you to do something for me…’

‘Byron…’ Justin growled a warning. ‘I’m not going to play spy.’

            Elliot shook himself all over and climbed to his feet. Danielle cast about her; her foot found a thick length of chain and kicked it up in the air. She caught it deftly. She twirled it and then swung it out towards the boy. Byron’s hand on Justin’s arm kept him from calling out. Elliot stepped to the side, letting the chain shoot past his body. He caught it with his forearm as it passed back. The links span around and locked against one another. He jerked his wrist and the chain flew from her grip. It fell to his feet with a clatter. He caught the chain under his shoe and kicked into it with the other foot. The steel ripped like paper.

            ‘Enough!’ she called out. And then again when he didn’t at first pay attention. ‘Enough, Elliot!’

            ‘We just need to know what he is—’

            ‘I’m not going to—’

            ‘Cassandra is dead. Elliot was the last person to see her.’

            Justin swallowed hard. He was thinking about the book. ‘I won’t spy on him. But I’ll get to know him.’

            ‘That’s all I’m asking.’

            Justin scratched his hand through his hair, scruffing it up, and handed the thermos back to Byron. He mounted the stairs, slippers padding softly on the groaning metal. Elliot saw him descend, and Justin beckoned with a jerk of his head for the boy to follow him.

            They traveled through the factory to a steel door set in one of the back walls, and then once Justin cracked it open, forcing the stiff hinges, descended down into the dark via a flight of concrete steps.

            Elliot’s eyes adjusted to the gloom much more quickly and effectively than he’d expected, so he took the chance to look around at the concrete tunnel he’d been guided into. There was a dark stain on the belly on the tunnel, as if water or drainage had once flowed through. He followed Justin along towards a bright light further down where the passage opened up to the sky. Justin held back, clinging to the shadows and allowed Elliot to continue out into the sunlight.

            ‘Are you going to start telling me what’s going on then?’ Elliot asked preemptively. ‘Because no one else will talk to me.’

            ‘I thought Tess was teaching you—’

            He scoffed. ‘Oh, she’ll talk about Duat, give me snippets about your government when I press her, but no-one will say a word about what happened at the old house—the people who tried to kill us, or what’s happening to me.’

            Justin stepped forwards to the very brim of the darkness. ‘What is happening to you?’

            ‘I don’t know!’ Elliot snapped at him. ‘You saw what happened up there—I ripped a chain! I tried to hurt her. I healed faster than you!’ At this point, he turned back and grabbed Justin’s hand, raising it out into the sunlight.

            The older boy tried to jerk his hand back as his flesh began to blister and peel, but Elliot held him firmly.

            ‘And I don’t burn.’

            He finally let go and Justin snatched back his hand, and nursed. The boy’s shoulders sagged. He seemed to realize what he’d done and reached out for his hand again. Not surprisingly, Justin retreated further into the safety of the shadows and held his injured arm tight to his chest. Elliot stepped into the gloom after him and held his out his hand, palm up, waiting until Justin finally relented.

            ‘Sorry,’ Elliot mumbled, not trying to explain as he gently took hold of the burned limb. He raised his own hand to his mouth and bit into his fingertips until he tasted his own iron blood. He squeezed them together over Justin’s hand and let several ruby drops fall, before rubbing them gently in to the tender flesh.

            Justin’s skin warmed pleasantly, and his skin started to heal, flowing smoothly where Elliot’s blood was spread.

            ‘Byron wants me to spy on you,’ Justin blurted, surprising himself more than a little. ‘They’re scared of you.’

            ‘I’m scared of me.’ He released Justin’s hand, kicked at the debris that had found its way into the bed of the tunnel, and then wandered back out into the sun. ‘Why don’t I burn?’

            ‘It’s uh… Porphyria.’ Now it was Justin’s turn to mumble. He sagged against the curved wall of the drain. ‘I don’t know how much of this is true, but legend has it that thousands of years ago, the gift was given to certain individuals who suffered from Porphyria—a disease that affects the production of Heme.’ He looked at Elliot, out in the sunlight. ‘It just happens that in the cases of Cutaneous Porphyria it bonded with the virus. It got passed on when they bit.’

            ‘What is it though? Why do I have it?’

            ‘You don’t. That’s the point. Cutaneous Prophyria affects the skin, causing photosensitivity—blisters, burns, swelling, necrosis… we burn in the sunlight. The Daywalkers protected their bloodline—they kept it pure. That’s why you don’t burn.’

            ‘Why my blood heals you—it has what you need!’

            ‘Maybe.’ Justin shrugged. ‘I don’t know if it works like that. But maybe.’

            ‘So… so the one who bit me… who turned me… He was a Daywalker?’

            Justin didn’t answer.

            ‘Well?’

            ‘Well… I don’t know. See, Daywalkers screen their members, so I don’t see how a Fear-feeder could have gotten in.’

            ‘I’ve heard that term before.’

            ‘“Fear-feeder?” It’s what we call Vampires who prey on humans—the ones who take pleasure in hunting them. They’re where all the myths come from. The government tries to hunt them down and exterminate them when they pop up but… they’re not always fast enough.’

            Elliot looked up. ‘Is that what those men where? They think I’m a Fear-feeder too?’

            ‘I don’t know—maybe Byron knows more than he’s telling us, but… maybe not. They didn’t seem to know what we were. The government has Vampires to do their killing. Maybe that’s why Byron wants me to talk to you, in case you know or did something…’

            ‘So he thinks I’m dangerous and need to be watched?’

            ‘Are you?’ Justin’s tone was heavy with unspoken accusation.

            ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

            ‘Well what about Cassandra?’

            Elliot’s throat tightened.

            Justin caught a flicker in is eye and forged ahead. ‘Byron went looking for her after the attack. He said she was dead. The building was posted for demolition, and her quarters had been burned out.’

            ‘But I didn’t do that!’ Elliot gasped. A quick gust of wind in the tunnel made the dust around their feet swirl and form tiny dust-devils. ‘You left with me! You saw—it was fine!’ He started to back away from the older boy, panic rising in his eyes.

            ‘I saw… the building,’ Justin conceded. ‘But I didn’t see her. And you have her book. You must see how this looks. It’s—’

            ‘She tried to kill me!’ Elliot screamed, and his voice exploded throughout the pipe, reverberating off the walls.

            Justin cried out and covered his ears. A blast of wind rumbled down the tunnel. He felt some of the smaller debris pick up around his feet and scatter.

            Elliot shouted again. ‘I didn’t mean to kill her! I was just trying to defend myself—I didn’t mean for her to—’ His voice still shook the pipe, and another blast of wind rushed up from under the building. The air expunged debris from all along the drain, blowing it past them and out into the open air. The concrete groaned, and splintered with a crack.

            Justin staggered to keep from losing his footing as the whole drain shook and rumbled. He lurched forwards and grabbed hold of Elliot. He was trembling under his touch. His eyes were wild and staring until Justin grabbed his head and planted his lips over the boy’s. There was no immediate response, and no connection to Duat at first—and then he felt Elliot’s teeth pierce his lip, and his own blood flowed into their mouths. He felt the winds die down and the drain fell still around them. He gradually allowed his own teeth to bite into Elliot’s lip and was suddenly hurled into a mental rush of images. He reached out with his mind and shielded them both from Duat as memories flooded into his head.

            He saw Elliot’s meeting with Cassandra, and then something started to worm it’s way up his throat. He broke free of the kiss and a single word tumbled into his mouth un-bidden and rolled off his tongue. ‘Mimic.’ But there had been a mingling of something else too. He felt a heat in his chest and looked down. The bandages cracked and peeled away, showing smooth skin beneath, even the redness had disappeared.

            They stepped apart; worry still showing heavily on Elliot’s features.

            ‘You won’t tell him, will you?’ he asked. ‘You saw it wasn’t my fault.’

            ‘I… I could tell him what happened—‘

            ‘No! He already thinks I’m dangerous. He’ll throw me out. Please don’t say anything.’

            Justin was silent. He chewed his lip. He weighed his loyalties and smothered his misgivings. ‘Ok. For now’

            They were interrupted from further discussion by the clang of the metal door and rapid footfalls on the steps.

            Tess’s voice echoed down the drain, calling, ‘Are you guys ok? That felt like an earthquake.’

            ‘Just shaken up,’ Justin answered. ‘Hold on, we’ll make our way back out. The drain is cracked a bit.’

            Elliot’s body chose that moment to sag against him and he had to struggle to keep them both up right. He heard Elliot murmur something but it didn’t make much sense to him.

            ‘That’s what she did…’

            Once above in the building again Byron gave Justin a meaningful look, which they both pretended not to notice, and Justin lead Elliot to his bedroom, closing the door firmly and shutting out the rest of the factory.