Unseen Things

By Shari Branning

There's darkness, and then there's Darkness.

Vail used to be fearless- and ruthless- before he started seeing things. Now, pursued by government agents and talking dogs, he's afraid he's going crazy. But he's even more afraid he's NOT crazy. Unseen creatures of Darkness have begun to invade the world of the living, and Vail is the only one able to see the truth.

Matt is one of the few people living in the bombed out city who's got survival fairly under control. That's until Vail, injured and on the run, barges into his life asking for help. But helping him could well cost Matt everything.

Torie thought life couldn't get worse than starving on the streets, until she agrees to participate in an experimental drug test that's supposed to help with fear. Instead she realizes that she's been poisoned, and all of her worst fears were never bad enough.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shari Branning
• Release date: Oct 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393318125

Book preview

1

In the absolute black of the deserted subway tunnel, Vail could hear the echoes of his own ragged breaths, bouncing back to him like a horde of devils breathing down his neck.

Blood tickled his fingertips, dripping with a resounding plop into a puddle at his feet. He clenched his fist, while his other hand trembled around the hot metal of his switchblade. Taking a step, his boot hit a solid mass, and he bent down, running his hand over the furry body to reassure himself it was actually a dog that he’d just killed, one of two, and that he wasn’t going mad. Although a part of him hoped he was finally losing it, because that might actually be the best way to explain everything.

His neck crawled with the feeling of being snuck up on from behind, though in the utter stillness of the tunnel he would have heard footfalls. He stepped over the body and held his breath, forcing himself not to bolt down the tunnel until he listened and knew that no one was near. Then he bolted.

Even with his eyes open he could see starbursts popping across his vision as he ran. His arm throbbed with every pounding step, and the darkness felt like it was moving around him. Moving, swirling, laughing. Darker bits of blackness raced past him or clung to his heart. Even in this hell of blackness where his vision was useless, his cursed second sight was showing him horrors.

He lurched to a stop, listening. Heavy, panting breaths chased him down the tunnel like a foul wind. He could hear the occasional splash of feet, or maybe paws, running through a puddle of rainwater that had leaked down through cracks in the concrete. He started running again, stumbling in the dark over the train tracks, with the blade still in his hand. Good way to get yourself killed, he told himself. But he’d be dead soon anyway. At least that was what he hoped. If the agents behind him caught him alive, he’d be dead later rather than sooner.

Behind him a man’s voice shouted, Vail, give it up. You’re no use to us dead.

Cryin’ shame, that, Vail huffed.

Much closer at his back a howl ripped the air. "They can use you alive," said a different voice, gravelly, wet, and not human. "But you’re no use to us at all."

Vail whirled in time to catch the impact of a leaping, furry body full to his chest. He hit the ground on his back. His knife went skittering across the floor while his head slammed off one of the train tracks. His hands were already going up to protect his throat as his vision exploded with unnatural light. Sharp canine teeth closed around his wrist and gave a powerful wrench, side to side, drawing a hoarse cry before the animal released, snapping at his throat and coming so close he felt a string of saliva slap his skin. He grabbed for the dog and caught the bottom of its jaws with one hand, groping with the other for its snout. It wrenched its head, trying to shake him loose, but his hand found its nose, and he held on with one hand on top, the other on bottom, forcing the dog’s jaws wider and wider. Its hot breath blasted his face in the dark. He jerked the great, shaggy head sideways, heard a crunch, and the beast stilled, settling its dead weight on top of him.

He heaved the body off and lay there gasping until his stomach churned, and he rolled onto his knees to throw up. He hunched over, trembling, swiping a shaking hand over his mouth. Over his thundering pulse he could hear the slap of boots from his human pursuers.

Nowhere to go, Vail, one of them called again. You’re running out of tunnel.

Don’t I know it, Vail groaned, feeling around for his lost knife, then staggering upright. All the strength seemed to have drained from him. He planted his hands on his knees, leaning over for a moment, waiting for the spinning to slow down. He took a wavering step, then another. If there’s any hope down in this hole, I sure could use some light to find it.

His boot struck something and he went to his knees in a pile of rubble, groping around to feel a wall of rock and debris rise in front of him. He really was out of tunnel. He raised his head, and stilled.

There was light.

A weak, dusty shaft of light glowed from between the top of the pile and the roof of the tunnel. He climbed toward it, his bloody hands gathering dust and sand as he groped upward among the rocks and chunks of concrete.

It was a narrow opening. He had to slither through it on his belly, and half rolled, half slid down the other side into what he recognized in the dim light as the city’s main underground terminal. So he had made it into the city after all.

The light came from half a dozen places in the wide chamber, tiny solar lamps illuminating miserable groups of ragged humanity, living underground because they had nowhere else to go to escape the coming winter. All except for one of the lamps. It was neither dim nor miserable. A light that had recently visited the realm of sunlight and blazed with stored-up glory. It illuminated a young man, as ragged as the rest of them, picking at the strings of a guitar and grinning like a kid on holiday. People crowded around him, and they were laughing.

Vail blinked, thinking for a moment it must be his concussion tricking his vision. The guy with the guitar—Vail guessed he was only a few years younger than himself—had a light of his own, blazing brighter than the solar lamp at his feet. Whether it was truly a light, revealed by his second sight, or a trick of his concussion, he took it. It was the only hope he had. He pushed to his feet and stumbled toward the stranger, hearing the music become audible above the unending murmur of the crowd as he ran and staggered forward. People cursed as he bumped into them or shoved them aside. Behind him he heard a shout from his pursuers. A ripple of fear passed through the crowd as many of them turned to see Vail’s bloody and bruised appearance, and the panic in his eyes. That was more than enough to start them scattering.

The guitar player looked in his direction as well, the smile slowly melting off his face as he saw that Vail was headed right toward him. He lifted the guitar strap over his head as he stood, granting Vail a better view. The guy wasn’t tall, but he made up for it in muscle. Shaggy dark hair curled around his ears. He seemed more worried about his guitar than about himself, holding it protectively off to the side as Vail barreled toward him. And there was that light. It glowed from him even brighter than before. Definitely real.

Vail stumbled up to him and caught his wrist, half turning him toward the stairs as the crowd scattered away from them. Need your help, he gasped.

The young man shook free of his grip. I’m not a medic.

Vail shook his head, the motion setting off fireworks behind his eyes. His stomach rolled again and his legs started to go limp. No. Saw your Light. I have to get out.

"My light?"

Before Vail had time to process through the fog in his brain, the stranger had a fist around the front of his jacket, and he felt his entire weight shift forward and up. Not altogether a bad thing, since it kept him from falling. The stranger gave Vail a slight shake.

I don’t know what you’ve been smoking, buddy, but you better shut up and move on.

No smoke. I mean—no time. Vail blinked a few times till the face in front of him came back into focus, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder, drawing the man's gaze to the terminal behind him. They’re government.

Instantly his weight dropped back, and he reeled for a second until the stranger caught hold of his collar again, this time from behind, and propelled him toward the stairs. The young man slung the guitar across his back and gave the solar lamp a kick in passing, sending it spinning out into the fleeing crowd, making light and shadow into a dance of chaos over the mass of moving bodies. Vail nearly puked again, closing his eyes against the movement and trusting the grip on his coat to keep him going in the right direction. He opened his eyes again when his new friend released his coat, pulling Vail’s arm up around his shoulders and over the guitar strap. They had reached the stairs.

Who are you? The guy hissed at him, plowing on up the steps with most of Vail’s weight suspended across his back. Vail might have weighed as much as the guitar that kept thumping into him, for all the difference he seemed to make.

Call me Vail. I’m... deserter. He swiped his free hand down his face, leaving a wet smear of blood. It was dark up here. Not the complete darkness of the tunnel, but pretty close.

Oh perfect.

Wha’s name? Vail managed, sounding drugged even to himself.

Matt.

Matt changed direction suddenly, dragging him into a room off to the side that Vail couldn’t see, but could smell. A door rattled, and he