The tiger twisted out of the wolf’s grip and turned on its attacker. The tiger shrieked, making the hair on Ryder’s neck stand up. She wanted to help but she couldn’t get a clear shot at the tiger — who was now circling the wolf, looking for an opportunity to strike.
The tiger spun and charged at Ryder instead. The cat was lightning fast, and Ryder froze, bracing herself for the attack but the white wolf leapt on the tiger’s back, stopping it before it could reach her.
The wolf sank its teeth into the tiger’s back, tumbling the tiger down into the dirt.
Ryder edged away slowly as the two animals locked in battle once more. Blood spattered both animals’ white fur, but the wolf was winning the fight. It finally gained purchase, clamping its jaws around the tiger’s neck, and the massive beast went limp.
This was Ryder’s opportunity to get away, and she didn’t waste it. She sprinted away in case the wolf turned on her once it had killed the tiger. Deep down she didn’t think that it would, but there was no way to know for sure —so she ran.
She pushed herself hard, the thought of Terrier and the others back at the bunker driving her through the pain and exhaustion. She had to stay alive for him.
For all of them.
Chapter Four
Massimo stood on his porch and slapped at a fly buzzing around his face. The World’s Worst Day Ever and the resulting nuclear fallout had screwed the climate seven ways from Sunday. Siberia, for example, had changed from a winter wonderland on steroids to a Florida-like swamp.
He had come to Siberia long ago, filled with disgust at the way David had treated humans like livestock. It was anathema to Massimo, who couldn’t even countenance the taking of animal life for sustenance.
Massimo had hated Florida because of all the damn bugs, which was the other reason he had decided to live out his life in Russia’s frozen north. With the vampire blood in his veins, wintry weather didn’t affect him too badly.
Unfortunately, right about the time he got settled in the world went to shit.
Now he was stuck in a Siberian bog fighting off annoying-ass bugs.
He listened on the porch until he couldn’t hear Leandro panting anymore. He knew Leandro had gone to the mountains. He always went to the same place as he hunted for the answer to who he was.
Once Massimo knew his son was a few miles away, he got to work on the thing he loved to do when his son was gone. Leandro could be a pain at times with his rules: eat this, don’t eat that... Anyone would think Leandro was the parent and Massimo the child.
I’m a vampire, and I can eat whatever the hell I want, Massimo thought. He planned to do just that once he’d gotten his music sorted out.
Massimo rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he reached for one of his favorite CDs. Carefully, he held it by the edges so he didn’t scratch it. There was no way to replace this album without letting Leandro in on his secret, guilty pleasure. He glanced out the window again, double-checking that Leandro was nowhere around.
Abba was his favorite band, but diversity was the spice of life. It was time for another classic from a different era: “N.W.A.”
This had been cut when Dr. Dre was a true rap artist, Massimo thought. Those angry young whippersnappers thought they were the baddest-assed gangsters around. Oh, how wrong they were.
Vampires were the true badasses.
Massimo placed the disc in the player. Electricity was rare in this part of the world, but years ago he’d installed solar panels to generate power. They worked wonderfully thanks to the global warming problem the planet now suffered. One small mercy.
He pressed “play” and waited for his musical blast from the past. And the music did blast, since he’d had the volume on high when he played Abba to drive Leandro out of the house.
He quickly turned it all the way down and opened the front door, listening for any indication that Leandro was returning. He’d be back in an instant if he heard the music and Massimo would never hear the end of it.
Massimo breathed a sigh of relief when he couldn’t hear Leandro. He went back inside and raised the volume to just above a whisper — which was totally not the right way to enjoy N.W.A. Back in the day, he’d have the music cranked while he enjoyed a feast of crispy bacon, sausage, and black pudding. He had been fond of an English breakfast.
But that had all ended years ago, when he had seen the way that other vampires, the Forsaken, had treated humans — like they were cattle, there for the eating. He saw the monster that he himself could turn into and it reviled him.
Massimo didn’t want to be like that. He respected life. He hoped the Queen Bitch and her people had taken care of all the Forsaken for humanity’s sake.
The thought of ingesting blood now made his stomach turn. There was no way Massimo would be like those vampires. He’d rather eat onions for the rest of his life. Massimo had become a vegetarian, a decision that weakened his body but strengthened his soul.
He sang along happily to Straight Outta Compton as he prepared his breakfast of fried eggs and toast. If Leandro could only see me now, he’d have his own heart attack.
He was always going on about Massimo’s cholesterol. He was a vampire, for snot-ball’s sake. He couldn’t die!
Well, not from high cholesterol, anyway.
Nestor jogged into the forest clearing where Terrier was examining Ivan’s mutilated body from a safe distance. Sweat dripped down Nestor’s face, carving pale streaks in the grime on his cheeks. Nestor was one of the dirtiest men in the bunker — which was saying a lot. He treated soap and water as though
