Night of Never Page 8

  “I’m sure your dad loved that,” Nola laughed. The bounce of it loosened the pain in her chest.

  “He wasn’t too mad.” Jeremy stepped aside, letting Nola and T pass, then followed them down the row. “He’d had a whole pack of guards breaking things for a while. Your mom freaked when I broke the door to your house.”

  Nola turned at the edge of the steps. “You broke a door in my house?”

  “Yeah.” Jeremy ran a hand over his closely cropped hair. “When you were out for a couple of days. Your mom made maintenance fix it right away. She didn’t want you to feel like your home had been broken.”

  Tension gripped Nola’s jaw. “Our home was broken. A door wouldn’t have made it any worse.”

  “I—” All hint of laughter faded from Jeremy’s face. “Nola, I’m sorry.”

  “For breaking a door?” Nola walked down the stairs. “Don’t be. You took the medicine to try and help me. You broke a door when you were worried about me. I just can’t believe my mother’s priorities were so skewed, and the domes went along with her.”

  “But at least she noticed the door was broken.” Jeremy leapt down a few steps to walk by Nola’s side. “The whole thing is too messed up to riddle through, but at least in all the chaos, and your mother freaking out about protecting the seeds, she took a minute to worry about you. Maybe she was worrying about the wrong thing, but she noticed something and cared enough to fix it.”

  “This way, if you will.” Julian gave one last glance to the rising sun and headed toward the tunnel.

  The gardens were nearly empty. Only the green-eyed woman with the goats remained outside.

  “Do you think they hate us now?” Nola asked.

  “Close the door behind you, if you please,” Julian called from the front of the line.

  “What about the woman outside?” T squeezed to the back of the group, leaning with all her weight to close the metal door. Locks clicked into place as soon as the door shut.

  “She’ll be out until nightfall,” Julian said. “Don’t worry, it’s her own choice to stay with her precious goats. It’s a rather strange affinity she has for them, but the goats are healthy and breeding like mad, so we find it best to let her be.”

  “Ha.” Beauford’s monosyllabic laugh echoed off the walls.

  “Nola, who do you think hates us?” Jeremy asked.

  The tunnel widened as they reached the main level.

  “Our families,” Nola whispered.

  “I don’t know,” Jeremy said. “The best we can hope is that they’ve given us up for dead.”

  Nola tightened her grip on the bin, the wood cracked in protest.

  “Careful,” Jeremy said.

  “The best we can hope for is that they’re comforting themselves that we’re dead,” Nola said. “We’re their children.”

  “Children who ran away from the domes,” Jeremy said. “They spent time and a ton of resources raising and training us.”

  Julian turned left into a side corridor, which slanted down, cutting deeper into the mountain.

  We’re a waste of resources.

  “What’s the worst?” Nola asked.

  “Huh?” Jeremy stepped behind Nola as their path narrowed.

  “If us being dead is the best, what’s the worst?”

  “They’re considering us rogue assets,” Jeremy said. “They know our training. They know how useful we both are, and they don’t want anyone else to have us. You know enough about botany to help build greenhouses out here that could produce enough food to allow the humans of Nightland to thrive. I’m a trained Outer Guard who knows all the domes’ security procedures. And all that’s without us having Graylock.”

  “Is that why they wanted me dead?” The words didn’t sting as much as she thought they would. “Not because they wanted to punish me for the crime of helping people escape, but because if they couldn’t have me no one could?”

  “Yeah,” Jeremy said, “which made my leaving a really easy decision.”

  A wide door blocked the end of the corridor.

  Julian balanced his bin on his hip and knocked with his free hand. “Produce from the garden.”

  Nola waited for a voice to call back through the wood.

  Julian peered into his bin, as though checking the squash for instantaneous spoilage as the seconds ticked past.

  “Should we just go in?” Nola asked.

  Julian looked up from his crate as the door swung slowly open. An old woman peeked her head out.

  “Bea?” Nola stepped forward, recognizing the woman’s wrinkled face. “You used to work in Emanuel’s house. You cared for Eden.”

  “We all care for Eden.” Julian slipped through the door. “And all of this is Emanuel’s house.”

  Bea stayed in the doorway, glancing into each of their bins as they passed.

  “It’s good to see you again,” Nola said. She forgot to listen for an answer as she entered the room beyond.

  Wooden barrels lined the walls. Dried herbs and meat hung from lines above. Tables laden with food took up the center of the space. On the far wall, rows upon rows of glass jars filled ceiling-high shelves, surrounding a smaller door, which stood ajar. The scents of smoke, meat, and hot sugar drifted from the room beyond.

  “What is this place?” T reached for the apples lined up on one of the tables.

  Bea slapped her hand away.

  “The pantry,” Julian said, “and it is controlled by the fiercest woman in all of Nightland. So best to leave the crates on the floor and be on our way.”

  Bea peered into each of their crates as they placed them on the ground then stared at them until they were through the door and safely in the corridor.

  “How long have the gardens here been growing?” Nola asked.

  “This is the first full season.” Julian led them back up the way they’d come. “We’d been trying to farm up here for quite a while, but with little success. Kieran’s plans for the garden changed things. Without his insight, we wouldn’t be able to feed our non-blood drinkers.”

  “But he was in the city,” Nola said. “I saw him.”

  “He had been here when he took ill,” Julian said. “We barely got him to his father in time for the ReVamp to be effective. After that, Dr. Wynne refused to be separated from his son, and the doctor’s presence was required in the city.”

  “To care for Eden,” Nola said. “Where is she?”

  “Safe,” Julian said, “healthy, and turning out to be a very bright little girl.”

  “Good.” Pictures of the tiny girl with big dark eyes flitted through Nola’s mind.

  “How long did it take to build this place?” Jeremy ran his finger along the stone wall. “You said you’ve been harvesting for a season. This construction took a lot more than a year.”

  “Quite right.” Julian headed down the main corridor that led to the room Nola shared with Beauford and T. “The expansion to the natural cave system began years ago. Long before I found my way to this corner of the world. It took a long time to build our true Nightland, but I have to believe it was worth every year of labor and hardship to have a place to reimagine the future of those fighting for survival in this world.”

  “I thought Nightland was the tunnels under the city?” Beauford said.

  “Nightland is a people not a place,” Julian said. “We were Nightland in the city, and now we are Nightland here.”

  They stopped in front of the door marked 113.

  “What would have happened if the tunnels up here weren’t ready yet?” Nola hung back as T and Beauford went into their room, both slumping with fatigue.

  “We wouldn’t have come here,” Julian said. “If we had attempted the transition before everything was ready, the endeavor would have failed.”

  “But if the domes had gone after Nightland a little sooner,” Nola said, “or if the city had eaten itself alive, what would have happened then?”

  “We would all have died,” Julian said. “Whether here or in
the city. There would have been no hope for long term survival.”

  “What I don’t get is how you pulled it off,” Jeremy said. “This wasn’t done by Vampers—”

  “Vampires,” Nola hushed.

  “—with pickaxes,” Jeremy finished.

  “It was built by the architects,” Julian said. “They spent years on our home, and now they’ve moved on to building another refuge for another group. They’re working nearly a continent away from what I understand.”

  “The architects? Who are they?” Jeremy asked. “Why did they decide to build here?”

  “Emanuel is very old, has lived a life of many marvels, and is owed many debts,” Julian said. “There are some debts that can’t be repaid even by building a village under a mountain.”

  Nola shuddered at the mere thought of what debt could be so great.

  “They just travel and build?” Jeremy crossed his arms, his eyes narrowed. “So, you’re saying there are other settlements hiding underground?”

  “Most definitely. And not all of them were built by the architects,” Julian said. “I’ve heard of a settlement out west in a long forgotten military shelter. The people who built the domes found the structure to be unappealing for their purposes, but that doesn’t mean the space can’t aid in survival.”

  “That’s a lot of people,” Nola said. “I thought it was only the domes that could survive.”

  “Of course that’s what you were taught.” Julian smiled kindly. “Swearing allegiance to the domes is much simpler if they are the only available path. There are many truths the domes have dismissed. Too many to be discussed this morning. Rest, both of you. I’m sure I can rattle your world views a bit more when the sun sets.”

  Julian gave each of them a nod and headed down the hall, leaving Nola to stew in her thoughts.

  “They lied to us,” Nola said. “The domes must know.”

  “They don’t know about this place, and it’s right on their doorstep.” Jeremy dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Are you tired yet?”

  “No,” Nola said. “I wish I were. I wish I could fall asleep and forget about the mess my life has turned into.”

  “I have a better idea.” A hint of a smile played at the corners of Jeremy’s lips.

  “What?”

  “Your strength from the Graylock is kicking in,” Jeremy said. “Want to go test it out? I’ll teach you to throw a proper punch.”

  Nola bit the insides of her cheeks, willing her face to stay passive. “No time like the present to learn to defend myself.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The sparring room hadn’t been cleared out by the rising of the sun.

  A few had taken refuge in the cots along the side of the space. A man with his teeth filed into sharp fangs slept with his mouth dangling open, though Nola didn’t understand how anyone could sleep through all the noise in the room.

  Pairs matched up in the squares painted on the floor.

  One pair sparred with staffs, while the match next to them was fought with swords. The center four blocks had been taken over by a group of six, who had no weapons but their own hands.

  Vampires stood around the periphery, cheering and stomping their feet as the fight heated up.

  A girl no older than Nola with bright blond hair dove into the middle of the fight, kicking a man twice her size in the stomach with enough force to send him flying out of their squares.

  The bystanders laughed and jeered as the man hit the ground. Two women grabbed him under the arms, throwing him back into the fight. He hit a younger man in the back, knocking him over.

  The blond girl twisted the larger man’s arm behind his back with a knee to his neck, pinning him to the ground.

  “We’re not going to be doing that, right?” Nola asked. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

  The young man knocked the blond girl aside, dragging the fallen man to his feet only to punch him in the face and knock him over again.

  “No,” Jeremy said. “We aren’t going to brawl.”

  “Good. Not brawling is good.” Nola kept close on his heels as they moved toward an open square on the far side of the room.

  “We’re going to start nice and slow.” Jeremy stopped in the center of a green square. “Just how to throw a proper punch.”

  “Is that how they start the guards?” Nola asked.

  “Kind of,” Jeremy said. “First, they run you till you feel like you can’t breathe anymore. Then it’s strength training until you can’t lift your arms anymore. Then you learn how to hit things.”

  “But I don’t have to run until I can’t breathe?”

  “You’ve already had Graylock.” Jeremy rolled up his sleeves. “Honestly, we could run through the tunnels for a couple of hours to see if you get winded, and go lift some barrels for strength, but I’d rather you learn to defend yourself. Just in case…well, in case you need to.”

  “To punch a vampire?” Nola asked.

  “Or someone on Graylock,” Jeremy said. “You should be able to defend yourself against everyone.”

  Nola grinned, the expression slipping too easily onto her face. “What should we be called? If people who take Lycan are werewolves, and people on Vamp and ReVamp are vampires, what does that make us?”

  “Superheroes.” Laughter glimmered in Jeremy’s eyes.

  “Okay, Captain Domer, how do I punch things?” Nola widened her stance, planting her hands on her hips.

  “Not things,” Jeremy laughed. “People. Punching is only for people.”

  “Can you imagine Pillion teaching self-defense in school?” A laugh bubbled up from Nola’s throat. “Punching is for People and Other Basics.”

  Tears streamed down Nola’s cheeks as Jeremy gave a comical frown, looking shockingly like Mr. Pillion himself. “Your skin and bones will never be stronger than stone or metal. Punching is a skill only useful for defense against assault by other people. If a wall or a door is attacking, kicking is a much more useful tactic.”

  Nola brushed the tears off her cheeks. “No wonder they never taught us any of this in school. None of us would have been able to take it seriously.”

  “They should have though.” The joy vanished from Jeremy’s face. “They should have made all of us learn to defend ourselves and basic first aid. If they had, things would have gone differently when Nightland attacked. They’re just too cocky. Living safely behind the glass and assuming nothing can hurt them. Not the sun, or rain, or thousands of desperate people. How could they have been so stupid?”

  “They.” The word rushed from Nola’s lungs, stealing all the air from her.

  “What?”

  “You said they.” Nola looked up to the stone ceiling, so different from what she had grown up with in the domes. “They and them. That’s what you said. Not us and we.”

  “We aren’t them,” Jeremy said. “Not anymore. It’s just us, Nola.”

  “Two superheroes alone in the world?”

  The clattering of the fighting around them drilled into her ears, shaking her breath as she exhaled.

  “The only ones of our kind. Then I’d better learn to fight,” Nola said. “You can’t do all the fighting. I have to be able to pull my weight or we won’t survive.”

  “Then punch me.” Jeremy held up his hands. “Go on, punch.”

  “Just punch your hand?” Nola glanced around. All the other pairs were sparring full force. Heat crept up her cheeks.

  “Come on,” Jeremy said. “Don’t think about it.”

  Nola drew back her hand and punched, hitting Jeremy’s palm.

  “Okay,” Jeremy said. “That’s a good start, but don’t pull your arm back. If someone sees you prep, they’ll know exactly what you’re trying to do. Keep your hands in front of you.”

  “Okay.” She balled her hands into fists, holding them in front of her chest.

  “And don’t put your thumbs on the inside your fists.” Jeremy took Nola’s hands, moving her thumbs to sit safely on th
e outside of her fingers. “Now try it again.”

  Nola punched again, hitting the tips of Jeremy’s fingers.

  “Try for—”

  “Aiming?” Nola cut him off, striking the middle of his palm.

  “Good.” Jeremy nodded. “But even as strong as you are, you’ve got to put the force of your body into it. Use your shoulders to rotate—”

  “Nola, if you want to learn to fight, you could ask someone who’s actually good at it.” Raina sauntered into the green square.

  Kieran hovered outside the lines, a knife in each hand.

  “The child was a guard for what, a weekend?” Raina asked.

  “Jeremy knows what he’s doing,” Nola said.

  “Show me.” Raina tipped her head, her hair shimmering as it swished to the side.

  “Okay.” Nola squared off to Jeremy and punched his palm again.

  Raina tossed her head back and laughed. “I take it back lover boy, keep her until she gets past Kindergarten.”

  “At least I’m trying to learn.” Nola pulled her fist back and punched again.

  “Not like that.” Kieran stepped forward, his eyes darting from Jeremy to Nola. “You have to keep your wrist straight. If you let it tip to the side, you’ll break your wrist. It doesn’t matter how fast you can heal, broken bones still suck.”

  “I can teach her to throw a punch,” Jeremy said. “Try it again, Nola.”

  “She’s going to break her wrist if she keeps going like that.” Kieran stepped forward.

  “And I’ll make sure she doesn’t.” The muscles in Jeremy’s neck tensed, forming root-like ridges. “The only time she’s ever thrown a punch is at your face. I’m starting her from the beginning.”

  “I’m just trying to help,” Kieran said.

  “She doesn’t need your help,” Jeremy said.

  “Don’t speak for me,” Nola said softly.

  Raina let out a low whistle.

  “Nola, do you want to break your wrist, or do you want my help?” Kieran said.

  “I’ll make sure she doesn’t get hurt,” Jeremy said. “I’m the trained guard, not you.”