Night of Never Page 7

  “Magnolia.” The doctor was on his feet in an instant, crossing the lab in a few strides to pull Nola into a hearty hug. “I’m so happy you’re safe.”

  “Dr. Wynne,” Jeremy said.

  Dr. Wynne let go of Nola. “Jeremy Ridgeway. I thought Kieran must have made a mistake when he said you were here.” Dr. Wynne shook his head and Jeremy’s hand. “Well, as surprised as I am that you’ve sought refuge here, I’m glad you made it in one piece.”

  “Thank you.” A hint of something between fear and disgust flitted through Jeremy’s eyes as he looked at Dr. Wynne.

  “You’ll both be assets to Nightland, of course.” Dr. Wynne smiled, either not noticing or not caring about Jeremy’s coldness. “There is so much work to be done. The gardens are still expanding, and so many vampires are undisciplined. You need discipline to be prepared to defend your home.”

  “You also need discipline if you’re going to invade someone else’s.” Jeremy spoke through clenched teeth.

  “Actually”—Nola stepped in front of Jeremy—“we were hoping you might be able to help us.”

  “Help you?” Dr. Wynne squinted at Nola’s face. “You don’t appear to be ill.”

  “I’m not.” Nola opened the black case at her hip, pulling free one precious syringe. “But only because this saved me.” She held the black liquid up to the light.

  Chapter Nine

  “Will you thank Dr. Wynne again for me?” T’s soft voice bounced off the stone walls of the corridor.

  “Of course,” Julian said.

  T, Beauford, and Nola clustered around him as he strode down the hall, Jeremy trailing ten feet behind. “He is the best doctor Nightland has to offer. And quite frankly, I think it was a relief for him to do something as joyful as check on a mother and baby. A nice change from other tasks.”

  Like finding a way to make more Graylock. Nola chewed on her bottom lip.

  “And it’ll be a nice change to get all of you outside as well. I’m sure it’ll be quite healthy,” Julian pressed on. “Dr. Wynne recommends it, and I must say my own mother would have thought the same.” Julian led them down a flight of roughly hewn stone steps. “A task to perform. Something important to do.”

  Fresh air wafted up from below.

  “Of course, I won’t pretend we don’t need the help. Especially from you, Nola. We don’t have anyone as qualified in botany as you are.”

  The stairs ended at a doorway to the open air. Two different doors had been left ajar. One with thick metal bars like a cage, the other solid metal like the door through which they had entered the mountain.

  “Of course, I don’t know if there’s anything that truly requires your specialty to be done this evening, and Kieran has been doing an excellent job of maintaining the gardens,” Julian said.

  Jeremy took a few quick strides, catching up to Nola and walking right behind her shoulder.

  “We wouldn’t be able to maintain our non-vampire population without him,” Julian said. “But when resources are scarce, every innovation possible is needed to produce food.”

  “Happy to help,” Nola said. “Is everything set up the way it was in Nightland, or have…”

  The rest of her question faded from her mind as they reached the open air.

  They hadn’t arrived in another brief opening before a new set of tunnels, but in a valley carved out between the peaks of the mountains.

  Terraces had been cut into the slopes, creating steps of soil supporting rows of crops. Disks of fabric, larger than any Nola had ever seen, had been placed around the tops of the mountain. Though the half-moon gave the only light, Nola could imagine the parasol-like fabric blocking out the worst rays of the sun.

  Julian led them to the far side of the narrow valley toward the steps that cut up the terraces.

  “How do you block the rain?” Nola asked.

  “We don’t usually need to.” Kieran wound his way through a row of greens, dirt coating his clothes.

  Nola’s hands instinctively curled into fists as he stopped in front of their group.

  “The pollution that causes the acid rain usually stays pretty low over the city,” Kieran said. “Most of the rain at this elevation is clean. And when it looks like we might get bad rain, we cover everything by hand. I’d love to have a tenting system, but keeping the sun from scorching the crops had to be the first priority.”

  “Good evening, Kieran,” Julian said. “I’ve brought four more to help with the gardens.”

  Kieran looked to Nola. “I need all the help I can get.”

  “It looks like you’ve done well all on your own,” Nola said. “This is huge compared to the garden on the roof above Nightland in the city. Were you running up to the mountains to plant things on off days? Why did you even bother taking the plants you’d been working with in the city when you had so much here? You could have left them behind. People could still be eating from that garden.”

  The people working in the rows around them stood, watching Nola as she shouted.

  She couldn’t bring herself to care. “What the hell did you need from the domes if you have all this out here?”

  “Nola, I don’t know if this is the venue for a lovers’ quarrel,” Julian said.

  “Maybe we should go dig something,” Beauford said.

  “We have less than twenty crops we can grow out here, Nola,” Kieran said. “Do the math. That isn’t sustainable. Bugs, bacteria, we could lose everything, and people would starve. The domes aren’t the only ones planning for the future.”

  Jeremy stepped forward to stand next to Nola. “When plans involve killing people, they’re usually bad plans.”

  “Weren’t you an Outer Guard?” Kieran asked. “Did you get through that without hurting anyone?”

  The gardeners crept closer, whether for entertainment or to defend Kieran, Nola didn’t know.

  “Just tell us what work you want us to do.” Beauford pointed to a barrel holding shovels, hoes, and rakes. “Let’s stop talking and shovel things.”

  “What did you take?” Nola asked. “What did you need that you couldn’t ask for in the trade? Remember the time you traded me for seeds and medicine? What was so precious the domes wouldn’t pay it to get me back?”

  “They would have paid anything,” Jeremy said. “Between your mother and my father, there’s nothing the Council wouldn’t have given to get you back safely. I was waiting outside the meeting with the ice from the Graylock taking over my veins. I heard it all. The domes would have done anything to get her back.”

  Nola laid her hand on Jeremy’s arm. He stopped shaking at her touch.

  “What did you steal, Kieran?” Nola asked.

  Kieran looked up at the stars. “You’ll have to ask Emanuel. I was only a guide to get them in and out as quickly as possible while meeting as few guards as possible. I was trying to keep as many people safe as I could.”

  “By betraying your home?” Jeremy said.

  “The domes kicked me out,” Kieran said. “Nightland is my home. Nightland saved me and my father. Nightland took care of us when the domes left us outside to die.”

  “Kieran—”

  He spoke over Nola. “I didn’t know when we gave you back that Emanuel needed more from the domes before we could leave the city. I couldn’t stop the raid, so I went to the domes to try and get in and out as fast as we could. If the vampires who went in hadn’t known exactly where to go, how many more people would have died? Did I really do something so terrible?”

  “Yes!” Jeremy spat.

  “You told them not to hurt me,” Nola said. “You led them into my home. You let them kill people all around me, but I had to survive.”

  “I couldn’t let them touch you.” Kieran spoke softly. “It was the only protection I could give you, and the thought of anyone hurting you is more than I can stand.”

  “It wasn’t mercy.” Nola dug her nails into her palms, refusing to let tears come. “And it wasn’t kindness. And it didn’t work
anyway. I got bit, Kieran. Raina saved me, not you.”

  “Who bit you?” Kieran said. “Tell me who it was and—”

  “And what?” Nola asked. “You’ll kill him?”

  “Nola, I’m so sorry.” Pain creased Kieran’s face.

  “Can we just work on the garden? It would be a lot more useful than apologies.” Nola studied the nearest greenery, unwilling to look at Kieran any longer. Leaves from a potato plant peeked up through the dirt.

  “We have some squash ready to harvest down the row,” Kieran said, his voice even and unreadable. “We’re almost to the end of what we can grow out here for the season. With the nights getting cold, there’s not much we can keep alive.”

  “And then what do people eat?” Beauford asked.

  “What we’ve stored, and what we can grow below,” Kieran said. “I want to build a way to grow in the cold season aboveground, but that will have to wait until next year.”

  “Just don’t try stealing glass from the domes.” Jeremy moved out in front of their group. “The guards would destroy you.”

  “There’s plenty of glass to salvage in the city.” Kieran stepped forward. “Just because the domes demand fancy glass doesn’t mean it’s the only way things can work.”

  “Nola, I’m sure you’re up to harvesting some squash,” Julian said loudly. “Why don’t you lead Beauford and T down that way? I’m sure Kieran has work to get back to, and Jeremy can help me transfer the new soil from below.”

  “I should stay with Nola.” Jeremy’s fiery gaze stayed on Kieran.

  “I can harvest some plants without supervision.” Nola stalked down the row, her brain pounding with all the things she wanted to scream.

  The path ended before the edge of the slope, blocking the area beyond with a fence. Edges cut through the soil and grass, the first round of digging to build more steps for growing. Goats wandered through the grass, grazing without caring for the vampires working nearby.

  “Nola.”

  She jumped at T’s quiet voice.

  “Just pick the dull-colored ones with no green.” Nola knelt next to the long, prickly vine.

  “The squash in the domes were bigger.” T began lowering herself to the ground, pain wrinkling the corners of her eyes.

  “Careful.” Beauford took her arm, helping her the rest of the way.

  “Is it the baby?” Nola asked.

  “No, I just climbed a mountain.” T’s smile lasted for only a second. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Nola’s stomach twisted. “Please don’t worry about me.”

  “Better than worrying about me.” T took Nola’s hand. “You’re going through a lot, being asked to forgive a lot.”

  “I just…” Nola grabbed a heavy gourd, twisting the vine until it broke. “I just don’t know if some things should be forgiven.”

  “Some shouldn’t,” T said. “Maybe there have been too many lies, and too much blood spilt, and too much hurt to ever forgive.” T reached to twist a squash free.

  Beauford moved her hands, doing the work for her.

  “The thing is”—T sat back on her heels—“I had this whole speech planned for when I found Charles. I was so mad that he left me behind to go fight with Nightland. He left me alone in a city on the edge of burning itself to the ground with no way to keep a baby safe. And then he didn’t come back when he was supposed to be right home. And I had to go to the domes, and be locked in a cell, and break out, and I shouldn’t have had to do any of it.” Tears streamed down T’s face. “He should have stayed in the apartment with me, and waited for whatever Nightland was doing to be done. Then he should have brought me here himself. I was going to scream at the top of my lungs if I had to, to make sure he understood all the things he had done that had hurt me. And now he’s dead.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Nola wrapped her arm around T’s shoulders.

  “He’s dead, and I still want to scream at him. But I would go through the hell he left me in all over again to see him alive. I’m not saying you have to forgive them, Nola.” T took Nola’s face in her hands. “I don’t know if what they’ve done is so horrible forgiveness is impossible. Maybe you can’t ever love either of them again, and that’s your choice. But at least you have a choice. You can decide if you forgive them or love them or never want to see them again. I would do anything to have that.”

  Nola hugged T tightly. She didn’t know what words to use to say how grateful she was T had come into the domes to work and trusted Nola enough to follow her out.

  “Think about it, Nola,” T whispered. “Think about what you really want.”

  “How?” Nola sat in the dirt, studying the terraces.

  Kieran worked three rows below, digging up plants that had passed for the season. Jeremy and Julian were nowhere in sight.

  “I barely know where I am.” Nola pinched a vine with her fingers and spilt the rough fibers apart. It should have been hard, tearing at her skin and making her wish she had a knife to do the job. But the vine snapped without her really having to try. “I don’t know what I’m capable of, or turning into. How am I supposed to choose?”

  “Choose between Kieran and Jeremy?” Beauford lifted the squash Nola had split from the vine. “Who says you have to? You’re strong and capable. You’ll be just fine on your own.”

  “You really think so?” Nola asked.

  “Got out of the domes without either of them, didn’t you? Catlyn always used to say, ‘Never need someone more than you love them.’” Beauford’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t need anyone. If you decide to love someone, that’s your choice. But you don’t have to. The world is ending. The only mandatory thing is survival.”

  Chapter Ten

  The simple tasks of working in the garden helped. Laboring side-by-side with T and Beauford felt normal. Like they were back in the safety of the domes. Nola’s shoulders relaxed as she made her way down the row. Dirt clumped under her nails, giving her hands the familiar look of productivity she knew so well from her years harvesting in the domes. Years spent feeding people who now wanted her dead.

  Tension crept back into Nola’s shoulders.

  She focused instead on the people around her. T and Beauford worked as a team, Beauford never letting T lift anything. Part of Nola wanted to tell T to go rest, but most of her knew better. Sitting alone in a room with nothing but time and grief would do more damage than kneeling in the dirt.

  Jeremy and Julian had gone back into the tunnels and had yet to return. Kieran worked at the base of the terraces, placing tall metal stakes into the unplanted ground. Strangers worked around them as well.

  A woman with dark green eyes mingled with the goats as they chewed their way through the grass beyond the fence. On the terraces facing Nola, fruit trees hid beneath the disks of fabric. An older man wove his way between the trees, inspecting the progress of their bounty.

  Kieran had done a wonderful job.

  My mother would be proud.

  Or disgusted.

  Orange touched the sky, burning the night away.

  “We should start heading in,” Nola said.

  T looked up at the sky. “I’ve been out in the sun before.”

  “But you shouldn’t be, none of us should,” Nola said.

  “It’s so easy for Domers to say things like that.” Beauford stood, brushing his hands off on his pants. “But if it’s let the sun bite your skin or starve, you can live through the rays well enough.”

  “But it isn’t live through the sun or starve,” Julian said. “Not here.”

  Carrying an empty crate in each hand, he walked up the row toward them. Jeremy followed behind, more crates perched on his shoulders.

  “We work at night,” Julian said, “which means our work day is ending. If you’ll put the fruits of your labor into these, we can get inside.”

  Beauford took a crate from Julian and passed it to Nola, then took Jeremy’s extra for himself.

  Nola carried her box
to the end of the row.

  A goat hollered at her as she carefully placed the squash in the bin.

  “These aren’t for you,” Nola said. “I doubt you’d even eat the leaves anyway.”

  It took only a few minutes for her to fill her bin. She stared down at the loaded crate. In the domes, everything would have been placed on a wheeled cart.

  “Do you want help?” T asked.

  “No,” Nola said.

  Julian and Jeremy had both moved their crates to the bottom of the terrace. Beauford had hoisted his up. His muscles strained the fabric of his sleeves as he carried his load down the steps.

  Jeremy looked up at Nola. Without saying a word, he started up the stairs toward her.

  “It won’t do any harm to let him help,” T said.

  “I can do it myself.” Nola crouched next to the crate. There were no handles to grab onto. Her only choice was to get her fingers under the bottom.

  “Nola.” Jeremy jogged down the row.

  She shoved her fingers under the bottom and lifted. She waited for pain to shoot through her fingers, or her balance to sway at the weight. But the crate lifted like it weighed no more than it had empty.

  “Careful.” Jeremy stopped in front of her, his hands reaching for the crate.

  “It doesn’t feel like it weighs anything.” Nola shifted the weight back and forth in her arms.

  “Don’t push it,” Jeremy warned.

  “It has to be, what, sixty pounds? It doesn’t feel like anything.”

  “The Graylock is working,” Jeremy said.

  “If this is how Graylock is supposed to work, why are you telling me to be careful?” Nola narrowed her eyes.

  “I kept breaking things my first few days.” A hint of pink crept up Jeremy’s cheeks. “I destroyed about five doorframes before I relearned how to close doors.”