WARNING: DO NOT READ the following chapter if you haven’t already read Too Little Days (Book 2)
***TEXT CONTAINS SERIES SPOILERS***
Below is the first chapter of Infinite Tomorrows. Please be aware that this first-edit text might change during final edits. Thank you for your patience! It’s quite the story, so I’m taking my time to do it justice! XOXO, Summer
Delano was dead.
The Legion General had fallen after winning a battle meant to be the catalyst for vampire freedom, purging the corrupt so the world could finally see we weren’t the monsters they’d been taught to fear, that vampires wanted peace, same as them.
Insurmountable pain shackled my limp, numb limbs to the storm-ravaged earth like those rusted chains. My jaw clattered convulsively, not from the cloud-induced darkness and chill spreading over the grass, but from the soul-crushing, body-racking shudders terrorizing my spine. After evading death so many times, fate found a new way to destroy me. To finally stop my heart from beating. Attacking from the outside did nothing, gutting my soul on the other hand. I knew better than to believe in more fairytales, to think a happy ending might be part of my story, to let myself imagine spending a lifetime with him, infinite tomorrows with the man I loved. I knew better, and yet, I still left my heart exposed. I became Delano’s, and his widow, in the same breath.
At this moment, news of the Legion’s victory against the rogues was spreading across the country, assuredly igniting celebrations within the camps, the win fueling their strength. All the while, they had no idea that their fearless, selfless leader lay in the grass motionless beside me, his eyes forever shut. I clung to Delano’s stiff fingers, holding onto our final touch.
Thunder clapped above like a punishing whip across the sky, but that booming was a whisper against Slade’s screams, echoing through the night. For hours, he’d threatened and cursed God for taking his brother, his best friend. The crackling clouds responded to his pain, slinging furious lightning bolts at the earth, those flashes igniting across the woods, and illuminating the gold on my finger, a promise I’d accepted too late. Avenging Delano’s death was all that kept me afloat, my wrath a buoy, ensuring I didn’t drown beneath the current of grief and rage.
An ominous lull in the warring skies emphasized the terrifying stillness and sudden silence in Slade. I pulled my gaze upward, colliding with his tormented stare, raw emotion fueling his red-rimmed eyes.
And then, Slade crashed into Delano, a sharp, guttural roar tearing from his chest as he shoved his arms under his brother. Shock, and the smack of wind, knocked me backward. My feet lost their footing, my arms flailed to stop the crash, breaking my hold on Delano’s hand.
Slade, with a surge of brute strength, heaved Delano up from the dirt, crushed him against his chest, and rose to his feet, screaming and shaking his brother. “Wake up, Goddammit!”
Startled and struggling to find my footing, my palms hit the mud, inches from the empty syringe. I reached for it with shaking hands, curled my fingers around the vial of liquid death, and lifted the evidence, speaking for the first time since Slade had fallen to his brother’s lifeless side. “They came out of nowhere.”
My mouth was dry, raw, my throat shredded from the hours of tears. “I didn’t sense them. He must not have either. They were hiding, within the trees. One fired a gun, it—” I gulped, gasping from the memory. “It shot the needle. They’d been canvasing the mountain.”
Slade bit out, “They?”
“A hundred or so unturned.”
While balancing Delano’s weight over his arms, Slade lunged and snatched the syringe from my grasp, hurling it into the lake. “They have no fucking idea what they’ve unleashed!”
“I dumped their weapons with their bodies.” I glanced at the water beside us. “They’re making the weapon, or just storing, something, in Jackson.” I fumbled to recount the many details they’d so willingly shared. “And… they have recruiting offices. Volunteers sign up for tracking parties. Maybe the rogues were right. We should’ve let them hunt—”
Faster than a fired bullet, Slade launched into a sprint, trampling across the grass into the tree cover.
What the—”Slade!”
Reflexes had me up and springing into a run, fearing and fleeing whatever threat Slade must have sensed. I scanned over my shoulder as I raced behind them, but didn’t feel anything off. Still, I didn’t risk shouting for him to slow down.
Slade hauled Delano’s massive figure like it weighed nothing, vanishing into the woods deeper, without me, racing at speeds I couldn’t match.
“Slade!”
Pouring rain blocked their scents.
Spreading puddles blurred any shoe prints.
My mind slowed, my legs stopped, and I closed my eyes. I focused. Listened.
Beyond the cyclonic whipping wind, past crackling thunder and hissing rain, faint yet fast plops moved east.
I hurled myself toward the sound.
Blended into the distant shadows, Slade clawed at a tangle of brush and ripped away a camouflaged tarp to reveal a buried stash car. Within seconds, he flung open the back door, shoved Delano inside, and slung himself in behind the wheel, starting the engine and reversing at full speed, veering erratically.
And leaving me behind!
“Slade!” Screaming, I surged forward, mud propelling me against the moving vehicle, my palms crashing into the passenger window. I punched the glass, demanding, “Stop!”
He didn’t slow, dragging me through the storm while I wrenched the door open and flung myself into the car.
“What the hell are you doing?” I belted at a possessed Slade who didn’t spare a second to acknowledge me.
He stomped his foot on the gas pedal before; the door smacked into the frame against my shoulder. I latched the seatbelt and braced the dash, holding on as the tires thudded over wild terrain.
Raging rain battered the windshield, beating against the screeching wipers that were struggling to battle this storm. The car violently jerked, driving in the opposite direction of the dirt road.
“Slade!” I didn’t recognize the hysteria lacing my tone. “Why are we in a car when the base is only—”
The exhaust backfired; the engine sputtered to reach the speed Slade demanded.
I held on, shouting over the car’s rattling, “Where are you taking him?”
Slade’s crimson glare flicked my way. “I’m getting him the fuck away from here. Before anyone sees—” His jaw twitched, hands tremored over the steering wheel. “We just declared victory! Delano is a fucking savior! A god! An invincible protector! Their hope! This… will destroy everything we’ve worked for! Every stride, every fight, every victory! They can’t… no one can know. This is the biggest fucking moment of our lives… and…” His voice cracked, then lowered, becoming incoherent rambling, “No… no, he’s not… this… no… they can’t—”
I gripped the door, holding it tight. “Slade!”
His feverish fixation on the road sent us careening onto a mountain pass and then onto a highway.
Eventually, he looked over and said, “The antidote.”
I froze. My buried sobs silenced, my mind scrambling to register his words. Then, like a shot of adrenaline into the heart, I gasped back to life, shock leaving me only able to mumble, “There’s an antidote?”
Dipping my face, I braved a glance into the backseat. Poisonous black lines marred Delano’s torso, webbed under the surface of his skin. The black stopped at the base of his neck, leaving his face looking… like he was just asleep.
Self-preservation overrode my emotions, blurring the memories of this last week and forcing me to look away.
“Antidote to the weapon?” I clarified when he didn’t respond. “Did Delano know?” He would have told me! Mentioned it! Tried to save himself. “He didn’t—”
Slade’s foot rammed the pedal harder, speedometer needle trembling like the man behind the wheel, both about to combust.
We sped through the rainstorm, hydroplaning across flooded highway lanes to evade the unhinged lightning strikes and vicious winds.
Slade’s possessed focus was impenetrable.
Hours later, nearing Pittsburgh, he blinked, the mania slowing with his sudden jerk, tearing the steering wheel toward the exit, sending us fishtailing off the highway.
I said nothing, only gripped the dash and door, afraid of the man in control of this car.
Slade tore through roughed-up side streets, ignoring the potholes hammering the tires. Nothing slowed him until a three-story brick building came into view.
SHIT!
I closed my eyes as we plowed over the curb and into a barbed-wire gate, the metal shrieking as the fence blew open from the crash. The car then skidded to a hard stop, hitting piles of rusting junk.
Slade jumped out, rain slashing across his shoulders as he ran back to the gate and wrapped the broken chain around the post, sealing us inside.
I stumbled out of the car after him, shielding my face from the downpour. “Slade!” I begged. “Where are we?”
“The lab,” he snapped, returning and knocking the car door shut at my back. “Listen to me, De-lane-y. You don’t say a word when we go in! Not a single fucking word! Understood?”
This was the Slade I’d first met, his demonic stare, that shudder-inducing tone, that absolute terror radiating from his presence. I nodded, glancing over my shoulder at the backseat of the car.
I followed Slade’s winding rush through the tetanus-crawling junkyard, oily puddles reflecting the sparks of lightning overhead. He stopped at a steel door, which he hammered his fist against.
“It’s Slade Silletti!” he shouted. “Open up!”
Only seconds later, the door hinges groaned, and the steel scraped inward.
“Prall,” Slade barked, shoving past an older vampire in a white coat. “Progress?”
The vampire scrambled inside after him. “We’re doing what we can, given this new… lab.”
Decaying animals and their excrement assaulted my nose, the filth enough to make any sane person turn and run away. Still, I trailed them, gagging into my sleeve as we moved deeper through claustrophobic and cluttered corridors. But grimy halls gave way to a glass-paned lab, where, before entering, we were required to scrub our hands and squirt some foul-smelling alcohol over them. Prall held the heavy door, allowing us in before letting it seal behind me.
Four stainless-steel tables stood parallel to each other, topped with plastic racks filled with tubes, beakers, what looked to be an ice chest, syringes, some equipment with a crank handle attached to the edge of a table, and near the back, a closed-lid carton dotted with air holes and the word LIVE MICE scribbled across it. And the space was spotless, not a speck of dirt or excess wax on the candles or oil lamps.
Two additional vampire chemists straightened from the far shadows, breaking from their work to turn their scrutinizing brows this way. They raised their protective goggles simultaneously, re-tucking their gray hair under the nets atop their heads. Their introductions came via the cluster of glassless frames attached to the back of the door, each holding an aged degree. Garrett Prall, MIT. Natalia Torres, Stanford. John Leung, Harvard.
I forced my hand down from my nose, nostrils hissing from the sting of bleach, alcohol, blood, and burning chemicals, and I smiled to greet them.
Natalia’s gaze slid to Slade. “Who is the woman—”
“Status!” Slade barked.
Natalia flinched, recovered, and helmed the response, “We were instructed not to speak to anyone other than you or General—”
Slade’s slicing yell interrupted her, demanding once again, “Status!”
Throwing a glance my way, then at Prall, she cleared her throat and answered Slade, “We have broken down the compound’s base. It’s a heavy alkaloid, an artificial neurotoxin. It mimics the natural deterioration enzymes and—”
“But it’s amplified,” the third chemist cut in with a frustrated scoff. “It spreads faster than any pathogen I’ve ever tracked. We can’t see microscopic action, but based on the convulsions, it’s flooding the nervous system, turning their own nerve endings against them.”
“Antidote?” Slade’s roar rattled the glass.
“Prototypes.” Prall walked over to a heavy glass case and produced a key from his pocket to unlock it. Inside were six syringes filled with faintly luminescent liquid. He went on, “We’ve managed to isolate the active venom using gravity-drips and spun out a few counteragents. None have worked. In fact, one accelerated the toxin’s spread. Based on our live trials, the longest delay we’ve achieved is forty-seven seconds.”
Forty-seven seconds. Their best antidote only prolonged life for seventeen seconds.
Prall’s arm swung out defensively as Slade encroached on the case. “Reverse engineering a very complex poison takes time and trials. I expect to move into Phase Two in the next few months, merging the crucial formulations between these existing serums. We are hoping for a viable cure by the end of next year.”
Next year. No antidote. No cure. My heart sank into the pit of my stomach.
Slade’s glare illuminated the space in red, his scathing yell barely slipping from his clenched jaw. “So you have nothing!”
Prall’s composure snapped. “You cannot expect a cure in months! With few test subjects, limited supplies, and a team of three! On top of moving us from a hospital into a scrapyard! This is extinction-level chemistry, and you want a miracle?”
“Yes!” Slade fired back. “I need a fucking miracle!”
Prall closed the case. “For now, rely on the armor we discussed.”
Slade crossed his arms with an eerie cackle. “We’re not about to walk around in head-to-toe metal like fucking gladiators! We were supposed to be invincible!”
The chemists exchanged wary looks, their eyes sliding to the delicate equipment around the room.
Slade made a drawn-out pivot toward the secondary chemists, the candle flames shrinking from the sudden lack of oxygen. “Clear the lab,” rolled off his tongue with deadly persuasion. “Now.”
Prall’s palms rose in protest. “I’d prefer it if you moved outside the glass. We can’t risk contaminating the lab.”
Slade’s eyes glazed over as if he’d been drunk for days; he strode toward Prall, his chin and tone dropping into a vibrating purr, “Leave.”
Slade glanced back, at a rear door, reinforced with iron bars and marked with warnings. “Prepare your testing room,” he demanded of the chemists. “Make sure it’s in order for my inspection.” Then with ease, he said, “I will not contaminate our only hope.”
Their hesitation lasted a mere few seconds before they complied, filing to the back behind Prall, who unlocked the door’s two deadbolts.
Once the chemists entered, Slade rushed over, shut the door, and re-lowered the iron bars. Then Slade ran. Out of the lab. What the hell was happening?
My legs lunged to follow, but my feet stayed planted. Head spun. And before I could even make sense of it and react, Slade was sprinting back from the other side of the glass and bursting into the lab… with Delano’s lifeless body sprawled over his arms.
Oh, my God. “Slade?”
My limbs locked, stranding me on an island of footing.
Slade stormed the table and swiped the instruments aside, metallic clatters bouncing off the floor.
Then he rolled Delano onto the steel table.
Ice dripped down my spine. My mouth went dry. Eyes swelled.
“Slade!” I kept my voice even despite the shock stunning my chest. “What are you doing? I thought you didn’t want anyone to know! Are you going to tell them? Ask them to test on—”
Delano’s arm slid off the table, his head lolled lifelessly to the side. My insides twisted, unbearable knots coiling within my gut.
Slade, in a manic lunge, ripped the glass cover off at the hinges and swept all six syringes into his hand.
My heart thundered, beating harder than it had before I was turned. “STOP! SLADE!”
I leaped forward to shield Delano’s body.
Slade rammed his elbow into my ribs, the feral power knocking me across the room.
My back slapped into the wall.
Slade propped against Delano and raised his clasped hands, his shadowed silhouette trembling, monstrous.
“No!” I yelled out too late.
Slade drove all six syringes into Delano’s chest.