Chapter 57: Is a knife evil?

They made their way through the valley of dead demons.

It was unnerving and strange to walk through so many corpses. James had waived the offer of a Bradley, and there were too many in his ka-tet for them to take Zeroes. So they walked. Picked a torturous trail between the piles of decomposing demons, stepping on chitinous limbs and ground soaked in ichor.

Everybody was wary. Though there was no doubting the demons were dead, it was all too easy to imagine the walls of talons and abdomens and shattered masks suddenly lurching to life, for a single Nem2 to burst out of the depths of its slain comrades and attack them, hissing and screeching.

But none did.

This lasted for three long blocks. At the worst point they were forced to clamber over a great dune of bodies, struggling and slipping and cursing, their feet plunging down between the dead demons, their balance precarious, everyone at once furious and revolted.

“I’m going to wring his scrawny neck,” cursed Becca as she once again spilled over and had to catch herself with an outstretched arm.

But finally they left the grisly cordon behind, and at random James chose to take a left on 30th. Scaffolding encased the lower two stories of the building on the left, while a huge cube of glass had been glommed onto the corner of its opposite, with the building’s address decaled in huge letters across its face: 27 5TH AVE.

James considered the construction and was struck by how anachronistic it seemed. Already it felt like an artifact from another age, a time when people had time and the desire to sit in air-conditioned offices and plan how to spend a few million dollars on a fancy project like this that did - what? Announce to the world that this building was right where it was?

Shaking his head, he led the way, fire-axe over his shoulder, down the single, narrow lane. Manhattan was weird like that. One second you could be walking down an avenue that felt as wide as a football field, the next you could be sliding along a canyon of a street, construction on both sides, a bike lane somehow squeezed in along one shoulder, century old buildings looming high above you on both sides.

“Eurgh,” said Denzel, who’d gone around an abandoned cab to gain the narrow sidewalk. “Dead person.”

They paused, arrested by old instincts, and James followed after. A young man, face down in the gutter beside the cab’s wheels, several bullet holes between his shoulder blades.

“You think we should call someone?” asked Olaf.

“Who?” asked Bjørn. “The police? Is the NYPD even around any longer?”

“They have to be,” said Serenity. “Those bastards are like roaches. They’d be the last thing to die in this city.”

Bjørn smirked. “Somebody clearly had a productive relationship with our boys in blue. I never asked, Serenity. What exactly did you do for a living before the apocalypse?”

Serenity smiled sweetly at him. “I ran a donut shop in Flatbush. The Dolce Hole? The Gothamist gave us rave reviews.”

Bjørn frowned at her, suddenly uncertain.

“Let’s keep moving,” said James. “Last I checked 911 wasn’t taking calls.”

They proceeded down the street as if through a war zone, everyone scanning the buildings, moving cautiously, peering around cars, turning on occasion to check behind them. It reminded James of Mancini and his squad, and he wondered where they were and how they were doing.

It was another of those huge blocks between avenues, but eventually they emerged onto Madison and 30th.

Olaf frowned. “Why is everything under construction?”

Three of the four corners had scaffolding and raised roofing over the pavement, with shop names stenciled over the broad edges.

“NYC man,” said Denzel, punching one fist into the other palm. “City that never sleeps and all that shit. If you ain’t growing, you’re dying.”

“Interesting,” said Olaf.

There were people here. The sight of them shocked James, as if they’d been exploring the surface of the moon and run into pedestrians. They were wary, most carried an improvised weapon of some kind, and they moved with a hunted expression, glancing about as they hustled along the sidewalks. New Yorkers of every kind, wearing sharp clothing, phones in hand, carrying groceries, moving in packs, living their own desperate lives while the city collapsed around them.

“Weird,” said Jason. “I don’t know why, but I thought everyone was… gone. Left the city or something.”

“For where?” Joanna’s tone was bleak. “Everyone’s facing the same crisis. There’s no safe family to escape to.”

“Smaller towns don’t have demon symbols,” said Jason. “I’d have gone upstate to my granddad’s farm.”

“Hey.” Serenity drew up short. “You think all those Nem2’s are leaving the podunk towns for the closest symbols? Like, migrating toward them?”

Nobody spoke. There might be eight million people in NYC, but there had to be easily twice that number in all of the state. Add in Jersey, Connecticut…

Bjørn smoothed down his rough, jaw length beard. “Well, I think it’s safe to say Yadriel’s not been through here. There’s a decided lack of screaming.”

“True. Let’s cut back north.” James led the way up Madison. A moment later they reached 31st Street. They peered west toward 5th Ave, and in the far distance could see the piles of demon dead.

Without conferring James led them one more block north. The block featured a series of upscale furniture stores, the kind where a single piece cost more than James’s EMT salary would have made in a decade. The lights were still on inside, and each shopfront window looked like it fronted a museum.

They took a left on 32nd, cutting back to 5th Ave, and James was starting to feel like they were on a fool’s errand when they heard the metal of a fire escape creak as someone moved upon it.

Their reaction was immediate; Serenity raised her Ma Deuce, Olaf summoned his Circle of Protection, and Becca aimed her Bushmaster.

But it was Yadriel, face pale under his hoody, three flights up, shoulders hunched, looking wretched. “Yo, don’t shoot. I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

“Fuck,” said Becca, lowering her gun. “Where’d you get off on surprising us like that?”

“Yadriel? Come on down.” James tried to sound calm, but his heart was racing. “You’re safe now.”

Yadriel chuckled. “Oh, I know that. Question is, are you?”

Becca grinned. “Let’s find out.”

Yadriel hesitated, torn, and James reached a decision. “You lot go on ahead. Yadriel and I will catch up with you at the fortification.”

Serenity hesitated then gave a grudging nod. “You got it, hon. Let’s go.”

The crew was clearly torn, but Serenity’s decisiveness caused them all to follow after. James watched them head down 32nd, and when they were a decent distance away, looked back up. “You want to come down, or for me to come to you?”

Yadriel frowned, then sighed dramatically. “You’re not gonna leave till we talk, are you? Fine. I’ll come down.”

And he placed one hand on the railing and vaulted over, dropping thirty feet to land in a superhero pose, one hand on the asphalt, body sinking into a deep crouch.

“Damn,” said James. “You should be careful. Your knees are gonna kill you when you reach forty.”

“Heh.” Yadriel rose to his feet. “Guess there’s some perks to going dark side.”

“That what you’ve done? Gone dark side?”

Yadriel pushed his hoody back and roughly ran his fingers through his frizzy hair. He didn’t answer immediately, but instead just held James’s gaze, his own, heavy-lidded stare inscrutable.

“What do you think?” he asked at last.

“I don’t think so for a second.”

“Oh yeah?” Yadriel took a step closer. “How come you’re so sure?”

“Because we’re talking. And I don’t see it. I see a conflicted kid whose been dealt a rough hand, but not a demon.”

“You didn’t see what I turned into.”

“True. But you turned back.”

Yadriel scowled. “You don’t know me.”

“Not the details, no. But actions speak louder than words. And for all you keep telling me you’re a killer and a bad person, I’ve seen you fight alongside us, do what’s needed, help out with Bless and stand by our side. Which makes you a good person in my books.”

“Yeah? Maybe I did that ‘cause I didn’t have a choice.”

“And now you do?”

Yadriel nodded slowly, his smile almost a sneer. “Now I got a choice.”

“And what you choosing between?”

You are reading story Dawn of the Void at novel35.com

“Between being my own… my own self. Or just following you everywhere.”

“Sure.” James nodded as if giving weight to Yadriel’s argument. “Your own person. To do what? Be like Batman? Fighting the demons all by yourself? Hunting the streets at night like one of them?”

Yadriel raised his chin. “Maybe.”

James began to walk slowly toward him. “Where you gonna sleep? Whose gonna watch your back?”

“Don’t need anyone to watch my back. Not anymore.”

“That so. You got family, Yadriel.”

“Leave my family out of it.”

James stopped. “You know we’re meant to work together. The synergy bonus only works if we stand as one.”

“Fuck the synergy bonus. I’ll kill so many demons I’ll outpace the rest of you.”

James sighed. Yadriel looked so young. So hurt. So angry. “We need you, buddy. We can’t do this without you.”

“Bullshit. You need me just for my synergy bonus. That’s all you care about.”

“Not true, though that’s important.” James allowed his voice to sound exactly as he felt. Saddened, weary, and old. “I think there’s a rationale to the way this is all set up. The groups of nine composed of each Benediction variety. The waves of Nemeses. If the powers orchestrating this shit wanted to just kill us, they could have dumped Nemesis 3 on us on day one, or fuck, Nemesis 10. It’d have been a mass slaughter. I don’t think they want to just kill us. They’re grooming us. Preparing us for these Pits. Why? I’ve no fucking clue. Maybe it’s a game to them, and they want to give us a fighting chance. But what I do know is that if we’re smart we’ll use the tools they give us, because if not? We’re all going to die. Maybe not you. Maybe you’ll be the last man standing. But what use is that? You want to grow old in a world where everyone else has died? Turn thirty, forty, sixty years old by yourself?”

Yadriel glowered at him.

“We need you. You’re part of our team. I don’t know who or what you were before, and frankly, I don’t care. I was homeless, but worse, I was actively trying to be a nobody. Now?” James smiled. “Now I’m a major and in charge of this madness. How crazy is that? If a deadbeat like me can make a change, become part of something bigger, than buddy, the sky’s the limit for you. Don’t ditch us. Stick around. We need you.”

Yadriel’s face flushed and emotions wrestled across his visage. “You don’t know nothing about me.”

“True.”

“You don’t know what I done.”

James nodded.

“And these powers I got now, man, they’re like, they fuck me up, make me feel like…” Yadriel trailed off, his expression turning raw, his eyes tearing up. “You think you know me?” His voice rose to a shout and he took three quick steps forward. “Huh? You think you know me?”

James didn’t move, didn’t look away.

“You don’t fucking know me! You don’t even know what you’re asking for! Here, you wanna see?”

And Yadriel changed.

His limbs elongated, his clothing melted into his body, which turned black as a river of oil, his legs recurving the wrong way, his torso narrowing and producing armor, his forearms growing bladed, his face turning porcelain white, horrific, like a hideous mockery of a Nem2’s. He loomed over James, an insectile amalgam of an impossibly tall man and a demon, his whole body vibrating with lethal power and pent-up fury.

James crossed his arms and looked up into Yadriel’s face. Only his dark eyes had remained the same.

“I see you,” said James, fighting to keep his voice steady. “And nothing’s changed.”

Yadriel screamed, lurched aside, and brought both bladed arms down upon the roof of an old sedan. The car crumpled, windows blasting out. Again Yadriel lashed at it, raking his arms along the doors, producing a hideous screeching sound of tortured metal, then wheeled and loomed over James again, his face roiled by emotion.

James held his ground.

Looked up into Yadriel’s tortured eyes, and slowly shook his head.

“You don’t scare me,” he said softly. “Why don’t you come down out of there so we can talk?”

Yadriel rose to his full height, nearly twelve feet in all, arms splayed wide so that they nearly touched either side of the street, and screamed down at James, the sound so thick and rich with pain and horror that James felt his soul be battered by it.

But he refused to look away.

Remained utterly still, arms crossed.

For a long, aching moment Yadriel remained thus, poised over James, and then he fell back, shrank down into his human form, clothing appearing once more, to cover his face and collapse against the ruined sedan, his body convulsed by terrible sobs.

James watched the kid cry, then slowly, carefully, made his wave over to him, turned, and sat down against the sedan’s front tire, arms draped over his knees.

For a while they remained thus, Yadriel crying into the crook of his elbow, James gazing at a closed nail salon behind a steel roll-down shutter, until finally Yadriel wiped at this face.

“Why’d I get his power?” he asked, voice thick and raw with emotion.

“You chose it.”

“Yeah, but why’d I choose it? Doesn’t that say something about me? What I am?”

James sighed. “Is a knife evil?”

Yadriel just stared at him.

“Of course it’s not. It’s how you use it. A knife can chop the ingredients for a family dinner or be stabbed into some poor idiot’s back while he’s walking home from work. The knife’s not evil, it’s how you use it that counts. Same with your powers. You’ve been handed a huge fucking knife. Now how you gonna use it?”

Yadriel’s expression turned pensive, and he turned to sit against the sedan, arms looping over his knees.

“Does your power change how you feel?” asked James. “Make you want to do stuff you normally wouldn’t?”

Yadriel went to answer right away, then checked himself. Frowned. “Once, maybe, I’d ‘a said yeah. But now… all this fucking Arete. I guess not. I heard once, how, like, money and power just make you more of what you already were. Let you be your true self. It feels like this power, becoming a… a demon, it lets me…”

James waited.

“I gotta lot of rage, man.” Yadriel stared at his fingers fixedly. “I gotta lot rage and… yeah. My life, it’s been… and this shape, this power, it’s like a way to finally…”

“I hear you.” James kept on staring right ahead. “It’s gotta be real tempting.”

“Like a motherfucker. There some punks from my old neighborhood I wouldn’t mind finding. But…”

“Yeah. So you’re saying those instincts don’t come from the power, but from yourself.”

“I told you. I’m not a good person.”

“I don’t know. You haven’t headed off to your old neighborhood yet.”

Yadriel looked at him sidelong. “Maybe I still will.”

“Maybe. But in the meantime, what do you say to hanging out with us for a bit longer? Just while you figure it out?”

Yadriel scowled, looked back at where he was tearing at his thumb’s cuticle and frowned. “Well… all right. Just for a while longer. While I decide what I really want.”

“Good.” James stood. “Glad to hear it. I’ll keep this conversation between us. You up for heading back?”

“I don’t want to talk about this to no-one else.”

“You don’t have to. I think they’ll understand you want to keep this quiet. I’ll tell them we figured shit out, and that we’re good. They’ll listen to me.”

“All right.” Yadriel’s hands went still, then he gave one curt nod and climbed up to his feet. “Fine. Lead on, grandpa.”

James snorted. “Kids.”

But Yadriel followed him back out onto 5th Ave, and that was all that mattered.

You can find story with these keywords: Dawn of the Void, Read Dawn of the Void, Dawn of the Void novel, Dawn of the Void book, Dawn of the Void story, Dawn of the Void full, Dawn of the Void Latest Chapter