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Below my feet, the railway sleepers begin to buzz and vibrate.Dammit.
I look over my shoulder to see the bright lights of the midnight train to Elysium fast approaching in the distance. Nervous, I spin Celeste’s lighter in my hand, popping the lid open and shut again with a click. The money she offered me for this would take care of my fines and my rent. Below, the Styx glistens in the moonlight, a single barge cutting silently through the water, lying low just beneath the surface. Just a few more seconds.
To my right, Elysium sits mute and silent like a glass corpse, its limbs jutting into the sky, offices and banks having long gone to sleep. On the other side of the river lies Asphodel, its skyline more modest, the lights of people’s windows shining like stars. Further up the river, the promenade is still buzzing with light and life, chic bars and quirky foodstalls drawing out the more comfortable residents of the city.
Considering it’s nearly one in the morning, the midnight train should be long gone but LunarLink is tragically underfunded and therefore chronically late. I slip the lighter back into my pocket and cling to the metal beams holding up the bridge as the vibrations get stronger, closer to rattling than buzzing now. Determined, I clench my jaw so I won’t bite my tongue.C’mon,I think as I watch the ship’s deck creep out from under the bridge.Hurry up.
I lean forward with anticipation, my feet nearly slipping off the rails.Just a little more.Behind me, the train’s horn blares with ear-splitting volume as the driver notices me on the tracks. Frustrated, I glance over my shoulder to watch it barrel towards me, waiting until the coupler is within an inch of my leg – then I throw myself off the bridge. The whole exchange takes less than three seconds.
I land at the very front of the deck with a thump, trying to absorb as much of the shock as possible with my knees before rolling over my shoulder, then squat motionless and listen. It takes some effort to not cheer for myself for pulling that move off, though admittedly I couldn’t have if Celeste hadn’t fed me her blood earlier. Behind me, the ship’s flat deck is descends into the cargo hold that is carved deeply into its hull, pitted like fruit,and covered with tarps. A lonely light burns in the bridge at the back of the ship. After a moment, voices carry over the water.
“...told you the tarp wasn’t tied down properly, I can hear it!”
As quietly as I can manage, I crawl towards the thick tarp, heart pounding. It’s tied down well enough that I can’t slip beneath, so I try to untie it. It takes me a few tries as I fumble with it nervously, until I give in and tear it with my fangs. I try not to think about what else has touched the rope over the years. Then, I slip into the cargo hold and crawl as deep into the ship’s belly as I can. My hood is drawn deep into my face, which should remain concealed in shadow by Celeste’s magic – if I wasn’t absolutely terrified, I might appreciate how cool that is.
The cargo hold is filled with concrete pipes, all of which are neatly stacked and tied down with ratchet straps. There’s barely enough space between them and the tarp that I can lie flat on my belly.
The voices get louder as they stop by the damaged cord, arguing now over something I can’t make out. I stay motionless, holding my breath while they fiddle around, trying to fix the damage I caused, until their voices finally recede.
I hope Celeste isn’t wrong.I can’t really see but I get the picture:the space is tightly packed from wall to wall. As I crawl along, I notice there is a small gap between the stacks of pipes, too narrow to see into even if it weren’t so dark but just wide enough for my arm. Heartbeat pounding in my ears, I shove my hand into one of the them.
For a painfully long moment I feel nothing, until my fingers touch crumpled packing paper and smooth glass. I tug, freeing a small bottle of clear liquid, the same viscosity as that in the syringes I’ve been delivering. I usncrew the cap and take a whiff – acrid, bitter, and medicinal. Just like Celeste described it.Bingo.I suppose it makes sense for Charon’s Veil to bring things into the city via the river, being named after the Stygian boatman.
Slowly and painstakingly, I pull out as many bottles from their respective pipes as I can reach. Then, I open each one and pour it into the ends of the pipes, in between the stacks and on top of them, until the whole place smells like an apothecary.
Then I take a deep breath, clamber back to the end of the cargo hold, and tear the bungee cord tying down the tarp again, this time unwinding it from each eyelet, until the wind picks up the end of the tarp and yanks it into the air, flapping loudly. I fiddle with the lighter.
“Hey!” One of the crewmembers is standing on the deck nearby, staring at me in disbelief. “What are you doing?”
I give him a charming little wave because that’s what I feel Celeste would do, then turn and toss the burning lighter onto the soaked pipes. One moment it’s dark, and the next fire mushrooms out over the cargo hold, spreading across the spilled liquid in the fraction of a second.
I jump out onto the deck to get away from the flames as quickly as possible, trying not to think about how many laws I’m breaking. Celeste said this would help the girls whose blood I’ve been selling and I felt like I needed to do this for my karma. Behind me, I hear the sound of glass shattering as the heat spreads, turning the pipes into loaded canon barrels and the bottles into their ammunition, each burst bottle scattering more of the liquid and so fuelling the fire. As I make my way towards the railing, two members of the crew scramble to put out the fire. Of course, this ship isn’t equipped to deal with chemical fires – the downside of smuggling arcane compounds with dry cargo.
Before I can make it into the water, someone grabs me by the arm. The sheer strength of the grip is impressive for a human. He’s tall and shaped like a Ken-doll, his blonde hair slicked back into a solid formation of hairgel. “You thought you were being clever, huh?”
He yanks me towards him by my arm and tries to pull down my hood. I swat his hand away and throw myself forward, slamming my forehead into his jaw. He lets out an angry yelp, his eyes reflecting the raging fire as he wipes the blood of his nose.
Again I try to get over the railing, again he holds me back, this time by slinging his arm around my waist. My heart screeches to a halt, my mind immediately back at the Myrrh & Adder.
Can’t you just get over that already?I scold myself.
When I remain frozen from the panic, the vampire in me uses the occasion to take over, awakened by the presence of a warm-blooded body near mine. The orange and red flicker thrown across the deck intensifies and the smell of smoke suddenly takes on new nuances. My pulse rushes in my ears as I thrash like a trapped animal, flailing and kicking. His shin cracks as I hit it with my heel and he lets me go.
Acting on sheer instinct, I turn and tackle him to the ground. His head slams into the deck, leaving smudges of blood sticking between the anti-slip tread. My fangs are out before I even think about it, the sweet metallic scent of his blood seeping to the back of my throat. I can hear his pulse, panicked now. Though he can’t see my face, he must have thought from my figure that I’m a woman – he didn’t expect me to be able to overpower him.
We wrestle for a few moments as he tries to push me off him. I would also like to get off him, to get the hell out of here, but I can’t. All I can think about is just one taste. I lurch forward and bite thoughtlessly, my teeth catching his shoulder
He yells and shoves me back, skin tearing under my teeth.Enough,I think to myself.That’s enough.
But when I attempt another jump off the deck, he’s back for more, grabbing the fabric of my jumper and pulling me down from the guardrail. Something hard hits the back of my skull with a crunch. For a brief moment, my knees give out, then I catch myself. It hurts like absolute hell.
With a frustrated grunt, I launch myself at him. We spin for a moment, until he hits the rail, coming to a stop. I bury my teeth in his neck, my body filled with white, hot rage. I don’t even care about the blood, I only care about the way he flinches, yelping in pain. The rush I get from his helpless flailing is enough to frighten me back to my senses. Horrified and disgusted with myself, I pull back from his neck and shove him to the ground, far away from my teeth.
Further back towards the bridge, someone has let a lifeboat into the water and few other crew members are evacuating, only one of them running over the deck towards us with a flashlight in their hand. I climb onto the railing and throw one last look back, trying to assure myself that the man I attacked is alright.
Too late I realize that the flashlight is actually a gun. The first bullet sends me falling backward over the guardrail. The second hits my shoulder, the third my stomach, impact catapulting me out over the water. For a moment, my vision is taken over by flashes of red and black, my body trying to curl around itself to protect itself from damage that is already done. Then, I hit the icy surface of the Styx.
***
