Girl of Glass: The Complete Collection

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The damp chill of the night air cut through Nola’s coat. The wind had pushed the stench of the city all the way up to the domes. Nola crouched just outside the glass, like a child reaching for something dangerous with the certainty someone would snatch it away before she could get hurt.

A night bird soared overhead, cawing at the darkness. Nola jumped at the sound, flattening herself against the glass. The bird kept flying into the distance, not caring that Nola stood alone in the dark. She waited for a moment, counting each breath of outside air. She pulled out her I-Vent and took a deep breath of the medicine. But still, no guards came charging toward her.

I’m alone.

Carefully, she knelt and slid the outer glass so it was nearly in place. No one passing would see anything amiss, but there was enough space to squeeze her fingers in to push the pane aside.

She stood and turned toward the city. Lights glowed through the haze that hung over the buildings. She wanted to turn and crawl back into the dome and into her warm bed where she could pretend Captain Ridgeway had never come to the kitchen door.

Kieran.

She took a step forward. And then another. She would do this. She would find Kieran.

One road ran from the domes to the city. The only path with lights and guards. Nola stayed away from the road, cutting through the old forest.

She had seen pictures of what the forest had looked like before, when her mother had been young and the founders were still building the domes. The trees here had been thick and lush, their branches so dense the sunlight could barely peek through to the forest floor.

But the trees had begun to die a long time ago. A few still had leaves clinging to them. Most now stood like skeletons—dead and barren.

The moon peered through the clouds, and the n***d branches cast strange shadows onto the ground.

Keep moving, Nola. Just keep moving.

One foot, then the other. A single step at a time. Moving deeper into the woods.

Did animals still live in these trees? Or worse, had people too poor to live in the slums of the city dared to make the dead forest their home?

Nola moved as quickly and quietly as she could. Every now and then, a rustle in the distance would send her sprinting for a few minutes, fleeing from the unseen danger.

Soon she neared the edge of the woods, and the city rose above her. She cut to the left toward the bridge that led into the city. The river roared beneath her. The foul stench of chemicals and rot sent bile into her throat. How many times had the bus taken them to the city, and she had never smelled the river like this. She had always been sheltered from the worst of it by the technology of the domes.

Shadows stalked across the bridge. Some in groups, some alone. Nola clenched her fists in her pockets, wishing she had thought to grab a heavy stick or rock from the woods. Anything to defend herself with.

She quickened her pace, trying not to walk so fast as to seem scared. The metal of the bridge gave a dull thunk every time she took a step. Nola kept her eyes forward, moving with purpose, pretending she belonged.

She was halfway over the bridge and could see the streets in front of her. The Outer Guard patrolled the city at night. If she had to call for help, would she be banished from the domes?

A group of people near Nola’s age had bunched together at the city end of the bridge. Talking and laughing like the reek of the river and danger of the night meant nothing. Both the boys and girls wore torn up leather clothes. The girls’ tops were ripped in deep Vs, letting their pale skin gleam in the night as they hung from the boys’ arms. The pairs all stood under one man, bigger and older than the rest. He perched on the railing of the bridge, holding court over those beneath him.

Nola turned her gaze away from the group. She was almost off the bridge. She could see the seam where metal met concrete.

The man who stood on the railing turned to look at her. His cheeks sunk into his pale face, a scruffy beard covered his chin, and in the glow of the city lights, the man’s eyes gleamed a deep, blood red. He smiled, and a sound like a wolf growling rumbled from his throat before he tipped his head to the sky. Flinging his arms to his sides, the man howled. The group around him threw their heads back, joining him.

Nola ran, not knowing if they would follow or where she was going. Her feet pounded on the concrete as the howling rent the night.

Werewolves.

Jeremy hadn’t been lying. Lycan changed people. Wolves filled the city.

She turned a corner and pressed herself into the shadows of a building.

5th and Nightland. Just get to 5th and Nightland.

A sign on the corner that appeared to have been painted over and over again read 12th Street, the other read Rotland in an untidy scrawl. Nola’s hands trembled. She closed her eyes, picturing the maps of the city in her mind. The number was right, but the name was wrong. Who had renamed the streets of the city, and why had she never known?

North. Go north to find 5th.

Staying close to the buildings in the depths of the shadows, Nola walked, keeping her head down, trying to picture what the city would have looked like when it was still prosperous. When the river water was clean, and people rode in boats on its glittering surface.

11th Street. 10th.

What would it have been like to live in a city in the open air, with parks to play in and a whole world to explore?

Nola passed a dark stairway leading down to a basement.

A hand reached out, grabbing her leg.

“Please,” a woman’s voice came from the shadows, low and crackling. “Please, do you have any change?”

“No.” Nola stumbled back, wrenching her leg from the woman’s weak grasp. “I don’t have any money.”

It was true. They didn’t use money in the domes. Currency had always been a vague concept—numbers on a screen, not something to be kept in a pocket.

“You’re strong,” the woman muttered, crawling up the stairs. “Vamp. Do you have Vamp?” The woman dragged herself into the light of the street lamps. Wrinkles covered her thin face. Cracks split her dried lips, and the skin under her eyes hung loose in horrible bags. “I’m dying!” the woman shrieked, trying to push herself up but crumpling to the ground. “You have Vamp. I know you do!”

“I don’t.” Nola shook her head, backing away from the woman. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”

“Lycan, ReVamp. Please!” the woman screamed after her as Nola ran down the street. “I’m dying. Murderer!”

Nola ran from the woman, not caring who saw her, her only thought to escape from the echo of the woman’s voice.

Murderer!

In her haze of panic, she almost ran right past the sign that read 5th Street and Blood Way.

Turning her back to the river, Nola walked west down 5th. There were lights in the windows here. And the farther she walked, the more people there were on the streets, some walking on the cracked pavement, some sitting in doorways. The scent of the river had disappeared, replaced by the stale smell of humans and animals living too close together.

The back of Nola’s neck prickled with the feeling of a dozen people staring at her back.

“You,” a voice called from behind her.

Nola quickened her pace.

“Don’t bother trying to get away,” the voice said. A moment later a hand had locked around her arm.

Nola clenched her fists, ready to punch whomever had grabbed her, but the man already had her by both wrists.

“Please, I don’t have—” Nola began.

“Anything but a dome jacket?” the man said, eyebrows raised.

Nola glanced down at her coat. It was plain black, made for warmth, not protection from the sun or acid rain. But the man’s coat was tattered and dirty, like everything else in the city. Nola’s looked brand new.

“Why would a Domer be out on the streets this late at night?” the man asked, tightening his ice-cold grip on her wrists. “A little thing like you clearly isn’t an Outer Guard.”

“I’m looking for someone.” Nola tipped her chin up, staring into the man’s eyes.

His irises were black, leaving voids where color should have been.

“Who?”

“That’s none of your business,” Nola said, trying to sound confident the man wasn’t going to kill her in the middle of the street.

“Look, sweetheart,” the man whispered in her ear. His breath smelled of iron as it wafted over her. “I don’t care if you’re here to buy Vamp or get laid. But this is my territory. If a Domer gets killed here, we’ll have the Outer Guard after our heads, and the last thing I want is a riot getting all my people killed. Believe it or not, I’m probably the only thing standing between you and getting your throat ripped open.”

Nola gasped as the man squeezed her wrists so tight she thought they might break.

“Tell me who you want to see so I can make you somebody else’s problem to clean up.”

“Kieran,” Nola said, “Kieran Wynne. I’m supposed to be able to find him at 5th and Nightland.”

The man cursed under his breath. “I love it when the hero sends a pretty girl to die.”

“He’s my friend.”

The man took her by the shoulders, steering her roughly down the street.

“Friends don’t send friends into Vamp territory,” the man said.

Fear shot through Nola’s body, setting fire to every nerve.

“What, sweetheart?” the man hissed. “You didn’t know you were being saved by a monster?”

He smiled, showing two long fangs in the front of his mouth.

Nola swallowed her scream.

The man gripped her tighter, shoving her down the street. “The better to eat you with, my dear.”

“That’s the wolf’s line,” Nola said. A Vamper was steering her through the dark. What would people think when she wasn’t in the domes tomorrow? How long would it be before they noticed?

They’ll never find me.

“Be glad a wolf didn’t grab you,” the Vamper laughed. “They like to fight and die. And if you think all this s**t with vampires and werewolves is going to work out like a fairytale, this really is your first time in the city. Here”—the Vamper pushed her up onto the curb—“5th and Nightland. Have your friend get you out, if you make it that long. The next time you cross through my territory, I’ll let them have you. They’ll dump your dried up body into the river before the Domers know you’re gone.”

The man turned and strode away, leaving Nola alone under a flickering street lamp.

She looked up at the sign. 5th Street and Nightland. But there was no one in sight. No one waiting to give her help, no sign reading find Kieran alive and healthy here.

Where are you, Kieran?

Nola closed her eyes. A very small, very foolish part of her thought when she opened her eyes Kieran would be there. Or maybe if she called his name he would appear.

When she opened her eyes, there was nothing in front of her but an empty street. Maybe the Outer Guard had raided the area? Why would they need to raid a place where Kieran would be?

Muffled voices came from nearby, but Nola couldn’t see anyone. No lights on in the houses, no people roaming the streets.

A thumping pounded from below her feet. A strong, steady rhythm. Like music. Nola studied the ground. Trash, dirt, and soot covered the cracked sidewalk.

Something white twenty feet away caught her eye. The thumping grew louder as she approached. Voices became distinct, and a melody broke through the noise. A metal trapdoor had been built into the sidewalk, a single word painted across its surface. Nightland.

Nola reached into the hole in the metal door just big enough for a hand and tried to lift. She gritted her teeth against the weight of the metal, but the door didn’t budge.

She took a breath and tried again, pulling until pain shot through her shoulders. Panting, she let go of the door and staggered back a step.

Go to Nightland, find Kieran. I have to find Kieran.

“I have come too far to get turned back by a door.”

Taking a deep breath, she stomped three times on the metal. The sound echoed through the empty street, and the noise from below changed.

The music still thumped on, but the voices were different. Their tones loud and urgent.

Nola jumped back as the metal door flew open with a clang that shook her ears. Four people leapt onto the sidewalk.

Each of them held a weapon in their hand—a pipe, a sword, a staff, and a knife. The four glared at Nola. She took another step back, missed the curb and fell into the street.

A woman with bright purple and scarlet-streaked hair stood over Nola, twirling a knife in her hand.

“Such a pretty little thing to be knocking on our door.” The woman grinned.

A dark-skinned man with scars dotting his face stepped up next to her, digging his staff into the pavement beside Nola’s neck. “Did someone order dinner?” The man had fangs, like the one who had brought her here.

“Bring her inside,” the man with the sword said.

“Not worth the risk,” the man with the pipe said, staring at Nola with frightening hunger.

“Then we kill her out here.” The woman raised her knife.

“Kieran!” Nola shouted, covering her face, waiting for the blade to strike. Even if he heard her scream she would already be dead.

“What did you say?” the woman said.

“Kieran,” Nola said, uncovering her face. “I’m here to see Kieran Wynne.”

“How do you know Kieran?” The woman lifted Nola to her feet by the collar of her coat.

“F-from the domes,” Nola stammered.

“But how did you find out about Nightland?” The man with the pipe sneered, showing his frighteningly white teeth.

“He told me,” Nola said.

The woman lifted her higher so her toes barely reached the ground.

“He came to the Charity Center. He stole my I-Vent and left a note in my pocket. It said to find him at 5th and Nightland.”

The woman let go of Nola’s collar, and she fell back onto the pavement, cracking her head against the stone.

“You’re the one.” The man with the staff tilted his head from side to side as he stared at Nola. “If the boy wants her...” He shrugged.

“Is Kieran alive?” Nola asked as the man with the sword lifted her to her feet and clamped a hand firmly around her arm.

“If you don’t mind”—the man ignored Nola’s question. His tone and accent sounded strange, like he wasn’t from the city—“I would suggest you not try and run away. I’m sure it was quite a feat for you to make it here from the domes alone, but I promise, if you go off on your own, you won’t survive Nightland.”

The man with the staff struck the metal door four times, pausing for a moment before repeating the four beats. The sound echoed through the streets. The Outer Guard would hear.

They’ll save me.

The door swung open, and the pounding rhythm of the music drifted up into the night. Kieran could be down there. Nola didn’t know if she wanted to be rescued by the Outer Guard or not.

The man with the sword bowed, still keeping a grip on Nola’s arm as he gestured down the steps. “Welcome to Nightland.”