Refugee (The Captive #3)(7)
Braith shrugged. “Technology was never a real necessity for us. I spent seven hundred years of my life without it. Don’t get me wrong I enjoyed some of it, but I didn’t mind seeing most of it go. My father and a lot of the others felt the same way. They didn’t overtly try to get rid of most things, but they didn’t try to maintain them either.”
“What else was there besides automobiles?”
“There were trains and planes, computers and TV’s; there was the internet and game stations, cell phones…”
“I never did like those things,” Ashby muttered.
Braith silently agreed, they had been irritating as hell. “There were so many new things developing every day that at times it became impossible to keep up. We didn’t get rid of it all. Indoor plumbing stayed, as did electricity, but that’s mostly around the palace now. The outer areas didn’t, and still don’t, have the resources to sustain the upkeep for it.
“The golden chain,” Aria’s nose scrunched, resentment burned in her eyes at the reminder. “It’s also part of that technology. It recognizes fingerprints, and only responds to the prints of the one that owns it. That’s why only the owner can remove it from their slave. There is also a device in it that allows a slave to be tracked if they escape while wearing the chain.”
“It should be done away with,” Aria said fiercely.
He didn’t argue with her, he’d never thought about it in the same way she did until he’d met her. Hell, she was the only person he’d ever put the chain on, and she still bore the faded marks on her wrist from that debacle. If they were successful he’d have a bonfire using the chains as fuel. “It will be,” he promised. The way she smiled up at him would have made him promise her the moon too if she asked. “It will go the way of the automobile and guns.”
“Guns?” William inquired.
“They were weapons,” Ashby answered.
“And these weapons would kill you?”
“Not necessarily. They fired metal bullets, but we know you’re ingenious little critters.” Ashby informed William as he nudged his shoulder. “It was only a matter of time before you designed some type of wooden bullet. The king seized all guns and had all manufacturing plants razed. You’re deadly with those bows and arrows, but they aren’t nearly as fast as a bullet was.”
“They sound interesting.” Aria bit on her bottom lip as her eyebrows drew sharply together.
“I guess you could say that.” Braith soothed the taut line in her forehead, tracing it with his finger until she smiled once more.
Even though he began to whistle, Ashby’s eyes were hooded and guarded as he moved away from the building. They walked across the sand coated streets that had once been ribbons of asphalt that wound through the abandoned town. He remembered what it had been like before the war but he’d never seen the aftereffects of what his father had done until now. Beyond the acres and miles of woodlands and towns, there was nothing left of the earth, nothing inhabitable anyway.
He’d heard the rumors of the aftereffects of the war, the whispered talk of the empty lands, but he’d honestly thought that a lot of it was just rumor. Looking at it now, he realized just how wrong he’d been. The extent of the damage that had been done was devastating, and as he took in the vast Barrens he began to realize that his father had not shut down technology and advancements because he didn’t need it, but because he had taken it and ruined the world with it. The king had been terrified that the same technology would one day be used against him.
For the first time he wondered if the rumored aristocrats were even still alive, or if they had perished in these forsaken lands as his father had intended.
“Was it better?” William pondered out loud.
“Depends on who you ask,” Ashby replied. “Some vampires preferred the way things were, others wanted more.” Ashby had preferred the way things were, while Braith’s father had wanted more, much more, and he had gone to great lengths to get it. “I don’t think there were many humans that preferred the way things became, but it wasn’t all roses and candy back then either.”
“Candy?” Aria inquired.
Ashby shook his head. He shoved back strands of shaggy dark blond hair as it fell across one of his bright green eyes. “Just something humans used to enjoy eating.”
“Oh. Did you like it back then?” Braith glanced down at Aria as she gazed up at him from beneath the hood.
“I never really minded it.” In fact, there were a few things he actually missed.
“I’ve heard stories about it,” William mused. “It seemed wonderfully extravagant. I’ve heard there was plenty of food, homes everywhere, and that people had everything they required.”
“Depends on who you were, where you lived,” Ashby informed him. “Not everyone was so lucky, but there were many people that had such things, and many that didn’t. Like I said, it wasn’t all roses and candy.”
“But it was better,” Aria pressed.
“It was,” Ashby finally agreed.
Braith stopped abruptly; pulling Aria up beside him he searched the stark landscape. Dilapidated buildings dotted the desert area. They were hollowed out remnants of what they had once been, with gaping windows and doorways. Most sagged beneath the weight of disuse and abuse.