Scott Sigler - Nocturnal - A Novel

“Firstborn,” Rex said, “what did you mean when you said the death a king brings ?”

Sly leaned back and crossed his big arms, as if he’d heard this story so many times it bored him. Hillary grew quiet.

Firstborn closed his eyes. “King Geoffrey was born after we arrived in America. San Francisco was much smaller then. It was lawless. Every day, ships brought more people. I was young then — I felt Geoffrey’s dreams in my sleep, felt his visions when I was awake.”

His shoulders slumped. He looked so sad.

“What about my dreams?” Rex said. “Did you get visions from me?”

Firstborn shook his head slowly. “I did not. Perhaps I am too old. Perhaps it is because I did not go up to the surface enough. But I know the power of a king’s mind touching mine. I felt it from Geoffrey. We would hunt together. I was by his side, always, but death came when Geoffrey grew so proud he abandoned our rules.”

Sir Voh scrambled down Fort’s chest and jumped onto the table next to Rex.

“The rules ,” he said. “The rules make us cowards.”

Rex looked from the shriveled man with the big head back to Firstborn. “What are the rules?”

Firstborn opened his eyes. He stared at Rex with a pleading expression that said listen and truly understand .

He held up one black-furred finger. “ Never hunt those who will be missed — take only vagrants, immigrants, people with no home and no one to report them missing.” He held up a second finger. “ Never allow a soldier to be seen. Because of cameras and cell phones, this is a far greater challenge now than when I was young.” He held up a third finger. “Finally, never let the humans know we exist. We are stronger and faster, we prey on them, but they are so many. Mommy told us stories from the Old Country, handed down for generations, stories of times when the people forgot the rules, and of how the prey would rise up and overwhelm us with numbers. We survive, my king, only because they don’t know we exist.”

Firstborn looked off to a corner of the room. He stared at a tall candle burning there.

“Geoffrey was arrogant,” he said. “He ignored the rules. He let the people hunt openly. Instead of culling the herd for the weak and the unwanted, we took whoever we liked. Some of us were seen. The police ” — he spat the word like it was poison — “they found us. Them and the Saviors. They attacked us, butchered us. They captured Geoffrey and dozens more — soldiers, ouvriers … even our children. I saw them tied to poles, some with ropes, others with shackles and chains. I saw the townsfolk gathering wood, saw them light the flames. Sometimes when I sleep, I still hear the screams of our people and it makes me want to claw out my own ears.”

Rex thought of all the people he’d met down here. He thought of Sly, Pierre and Hillary, the children, the babies , all tied to poles and set on fire. Only animals would do such a thing.

That was what humans were … animals .

“Why didn’t you do something?” Rex said. “Why didn’t you save them?”

Firstborn hung his head.

Hillary stood. She walked to Firstborn and hugged him. He did not look up.

“He saved Mommy,” she said. “And he saved me. I was just a little girl. Firstborn was so brave . He killed so many to get us away. He saved the queens so our kind would live on.”

Firstborn nodded. A black-furred hand covered his black-furred face. “Mommy was smaller then, but it was still difficult,” he said. “We had to start over.” He looked up. Rex saw the pain in his eyes, the fear that all his work would be for nothing and the people would die out.

“The city was changing,” Firstborn said. “The ships that brought us and thousands of others, they had been buried in landfill as the city expanded the shoreline. I dug down to one of those ships and made a burrow in the captain’s cabin. I brought Mommy down there and sealed her in.”

Rex leaned back. “Wait a minute. The ship she’s in now, that’s the same one?”

Firstborn nodded. “She hasn’t moved from that room in a hundred and fifty years. I brought her new grooms. She gave birth to ouvriers , to ringers and soldiers. Hillary raised the ouvriers until they were old enough to work, while I taught the soldiers how to hunt, taught the ringers how to be our eyes on the surface. We survived. We rebuilt.”

Rex looked at his gray-muzzled warrior with a new respect. Everything in these tunnels, every room, every brick, every person — it was all here because of him . Firstborn had brought the people back from disaster.

“The rules keep us safe,” Firstborn said. “Sometimes the prey has money. The ringers use that money to buy what they can, but most of our food comes the way it always has, from hunting.”

Hunting . The word sent a shiver through Rex’s spine, made his stomach tingle. He remembered the thrill of stalking Alex all the way to April’s house. Rex had needed that. The feeling had faded with Alex’s death, but the urge was calling once again.

Sly had sat silent during the story. Now he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the black table.

“Our history is important,” he said to Firstborn. “But it’s just that — history . You’re forgetting the parts where you ruled like a tyrant, where you didn’t just kill babies, you killed people who hunted without your permission.”

“We must not be discovered,” Firstborn said. “That is what drove every decision I made.”

Sly rolled his eyes. “Whatever, old man. You’re so brave? Then why do you let Savior slaughter our people?” Sly turned to stare at Rex. “Savior is nothing but a bully , my king. And Firstborn lets Savior live.”

Bullies. Rex thought of Alex, Issac, Jay and Oscar. He thought of Roberta.

Firstborn’s eyes narrowed. “You know nothing. My way works . You are too young to understand.”

Sly stood and snarled. “We cower . We are murdered and you … do … nothing ! You forbade us from attacking Savior, from killing the walking nightmare.”

Firstborn looked away and waved a hand dismissively. “Everyone knows that Savior kills anyone who tries. To attack him is suicide.”

“Lies!” Sly pounded a fist against his chest. “If I die trying to kill the killer of my people, that is a life better spent than burrowing in the dirt like a worm.” He turned to face Rex. “Savior is hurt, my king. If we could find Savior before he heals, we could end the monster’s murdering ways forever .”

Rex felt Sly’s anger, felt it and shared it. Maybe Firstborn didn’t know what it was like to be bullied. Firstborn was big and strong. He’d been in charge so long, he couldn’t possibly understand what it felt like to live every day in fear.

“Savior is devious,” Firstborn said. “He is probably trying to trick us, Sly, tyring to lure us in so he can follow you home and kill Mommy.”

Rex looked carefully at Firstborn. The man was lying about something, Rex could tell. What Firstborn said didn’t make sense — if they killed Savior, then the people could hunt without fear. Firstborn had secrets. To keep the people safe, he had killed his own kind for over a century. What else had he done? What else had he allowed to happen?

“Sly is right,” Rex said. “If you really wanted to protect the people, you would kill Savior.”

“We have tried,” Firstborn said. “Savior kills all who go against him.”

Sly crossed his arms and shook his head. He was angry, but also excited — he finally had a chance to say what he wanted to say. “That is not so, my king. Some have gone off on their own and never come back. But others have tried, failed, and come back Home — when they did, Firstborn killed them to send a warning to everyone else.”