by Chris Cooper
“Until we have proof otherwise, we assume she’s alive,” Oliver said. “Got it?”
Asher nodded.
Although Oliver was maintaining a calm facade, he had no clue about what awaited them at their destination. He’d wondered why Ruby had cut off all contact with them after promising to keep in touch. When she told him about magic left behind, she mentioned that Unnaturals had only so much to leave behind before having nothing left at all.
But what did she mean? Before they have no more power or no more life, period? And somehow, the storm projection seemed more powerful than what Ruby was capable of. She could pull off smaller illusions, but those tended to wipe her out. How had the Collector pulled off something on such a massive scale?
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see where this thing stops. Think he knows we’re onboard?” Anna asked.
“I hope not. At least we don’t have to worry about him finding us in this car, with that blood seeker between us.” Oliver pulled the blackout curtain back from the window.
The train blazed down the tracks, and the lush greens of the countryside slowly shifted to a dingy palette of city grays. He recognized his old station as the Drury Street sign zipped by. Oliver hadn’t been back to the city since his great escape to Christchurch more than a year prior.
“I wonder what the Collector’s doing up there,” Oliver said.
“Why don’t you walk through the car next door and find out?” Anna asked. “Say hello to our friend on the way.”
Oliver looked at the car door. “I could probably get a peek into the blood seeker’s car, at least.”
Anna’s eyes widened.
“I’ll take a look.” He walked toward the metal door.
Oliver pressed the button to open the first door separating the two cars and stepped cautiously across the narrow metal platforms that served as an unsteady walkway between them. The small vent at the top of the next door provided just enough of a view of the office car. He stood up on his tiptoes and pressed his forehead against the metal slats.
The blood seeker was standing in the center of the room, staring blankly at the opposite metal wall as if locked in a trance. He swayed subtly as the train shifted, the edges of his tattered clothing rustling and his homemade sword dangling from his hand, scraping against the floor.
A metal ladder ran up the side of the car next to the door, and Oliver stepped back and placed his hand on a rung. I could probably climb this. Maybe I can climb over and get a peek at the Collector. He placed his foot on the bottom rung and looked down at the ground below. The train shifted violently, and he pivoted sideways.
No way.
“See anything?” Asher asked as Oliver reentered their car.
“Saw the blood seeker and found a ladder. No way I’m climbing it, though,” he replied.
As they waited for the train to stop and the landscape shifted to countryside once more, Oliver practiced with the lighter on the rear platform of the caboose. He tried to avoid the bursts of flame that would leave him badly burned or tip off the Collector, and after a few fizzled starts, he sparked a few small fireballs that he held in his hand for a few seconds without burning his fingertips. The power seemed to be based on intent. When he fired at the blood seekers, he’d wanted them to die, and the lighter obliged, but the blowback had nearly killed him. Now, he was calmer and better able to control the flames.
Anna opened the door to the caboose and sat next to him as he conjured another fireball.
“That’s cool,” she said. “Getting the hang of it?”
“I think,” he replied. “Seems like the bigger the flame, the more the damage to me.”
Anna smirked.
“What? What could you possibly be smiling about?” Oliver asked.
She averted her eyes. “Nothing. It’s silly, really, and definitely not the time to bring it up.”
“Well, you’d better say it now. If he finds out we’re on board, you may not have another chance.”
“I was thinking of our first big honey harvest. You wouldn’t go near the hives. You were terrified, but not just of the hives—of everything. Now, look at you. If this is our last adventure, I’m just glad we get to have it together,” she said. “I look back on what happened with the Siren a few months ago and think of how it might have ended. What if Simon had won? I would still be a mindless slave. At least this time, I can help.” She looked up at him, and for a moment, her confident facade cracked.
“There’s no one else in the world I’d rather have on my side when facing certain death,” he said, “although you’d be a hell of a lot more helpful if you were three hundred pounds and could use a broadsword.”
Anna laughed. “I came to tell you it looks like there’s something up ahead. Come back inside.”
Oliver extinguished the fireball and headed into the caboose.
The train crept through an abandoned industrial park. Rust ran down the sides of large holding tanks, intermingled among a complex series of pipes and concrete structures. Tall smokestacks sat derelict against the gray sky, some so tall they appeared to scrape the clouds.
A few dim yellow lights lit the track in front of them as the train lurched past a yard of junked freight cars.
Oliver imagined the place in full operation, with thousands of factory workers flowing through the buildings, which produced God knew what, with steam puffing from the tall smokestacks like toxic cotton candy.
The train came to rest behind an old warehouse, its wheels screeching against the metal track, and the contents of the car shifted as it came to a stop. Wooden pallets filled a concrete slab behind the structure to capacity, stacked so high they teetered in the wind, leaving a curving path to a pair of industrial hangar doors.
The doors slowly slid apart as three muscular forms emerged from inside. Three henchman-looking types approached the engine.
Oliver checked the bullets in his weapon as Anna stared out at the men.
“How the hell are we supposed to navigate this place?” she asked.
The clunk of a metal train door echoed through the pallets as the Collector emerged from the engine, stepping down onto the concrete platform below. His angry red hair lay in a tangled mess, and he ran his fingers through it, revealing a long rip down one of his suit sleeves. He was shaking with fury.
“Get moving,” he told the men. “There’s a surprise for you in the next car. Might want to keep your distance. The gem is in the jar in my desk, but that thing in there nearly ripped my head off. Take care of it.”
“I’ll take the Collector, and you and Asher take the other three,” Anna said.
Oliver looked over at her.
“What? Might as well get in a laugh or two before we go striding off toward our imminent doom.”
Oliver crept to the outer door of the neighboring car and looked inside. The blood seeker was standing in the same place. As the train door slid open, the seeker twitched and seemed to snap out of a trance. He let out a low growl then a scream as he leapt through the car door, weapon ready.
The blood seeker’s attack cut short a henchman’s yelp. Screaming followed—then several gunshots, the flashes illuminating the inside of the office car. A sickening silence came next, and despite Oliver’s strong desire to peek around the corner of the car, he remained still.
“The boss told him not to get too close,” another henchman said. “Jesus… His blood’s everywhere.”
“Is he dead?” the other asked.
A single gunshot followed. “If he wasn’t, he sure is now.”
“What do you think was wrong with him? Rabies?”
“Don’t matter now. Get the gem.”
“What if there are more in there?”
“That’s why you’re going in first. Now, get going.”
Oliver saw a henchman’s shadow in the car entrance, and he ducked behind the door.
As the man rifled through the Collector’s desk drawers, Oliver debated whether to attack. If he timed it right, he could slip
in and dispatch the henchman, using his sword as a silent killer. He placed his hand on the door, looked down at his sword, and decided otherwise. I’ve got no practice with the pointy end. What makes me think I can take him?
The other man poked his head into the car. “Would you hurry? He’s already in a shitty mood.”
“Got it,” the first replied.
Oliver recognized the specimen jar from The Parlor show, when Asher had suspended a row of them above the audience, each filled with a reanimated skeletal monkey. Although the blood remained, the monkey had been removed and replaced with a crystal.
“What’s this thing supposed to do?” He shook the jar gently.
“It’s none of our business.”
“But—”
“We get paid to keep our questions to ourselves,” the man replied.
Their boots clanked against the metal stairs as they stepped down onto the concrete platform.
“What about the other car?”
“We’ll get it later. Better get this inside.”
“You think this thing really has powers?”
“You saw what the bitch did—nearly gave Jimmy a heart attack.”
Oliver clenched a fist.
“Ha! Might have been a better way to die than what just happened to him.”
“He was a moron anyway. We’re better off without him. Dunno why the boss kept him around. Let’s go. The boss is gonna flip when he sees that new antique we got in. He’s been chasing that thing for months.”
As the men’s footsteps clanked away, Oliver poked his head around the edge of the car. Two bloody forms lay splayed on the concrete—one the massive blood seeker, the other obviously Jimmy, who looked to be in pieces.
Oliver opened the door to the caboose and joined the other two inside.
“They took a crystal out of the Collector’s office, and it’s stored in Asher’s blood. That must be how it can produce such a powerful illusion.” He traced the outline of the lighter in his pocket. “I think the lighter must feed on me for power, but the blood must fuel the gem.”
Anna opened her mouth to speak but had trouble coming up with a response.
“I know it sounds crazy, but at this point, anything’s possible, right? And at least the blood seeker and one of the Collector’s thugs are out of the way,” Oliver said.
“They've got guns,” Anna said. “How are we going to get in without getting shot?”
Oliver pulled the lighter from his pocket. “At least we’ve got this and a few vials of blood in case anything goes wrong. Maybe we should wait a while until things settle down then sneak in to try to find Ruby. We’ll get through this.”
“Look,” Anna whispered, pointing toward the window above their heads.
Oliver stuck his head over the edge of the ledge and looked out into the concrete yard. The two remaining henchmen were approaching the train once more.
“They’re coming toward us,” she said.
Oliver’s heart dropped. He pointed at the door at the end of the caboose. “We’ve got to go now.” He rushed toward the back and pressed the button to open the door. “Come on.”
They slipped out onto the caboose platform, and Oliver closed the door. As that latch clicked, the side door opened.
They ducked under the window and lowered themselves down onto the tracks. Oliver peered underneath the car to look for the henchmen’s feet, and once he saw the coast was clear, they darted behind a few stacks of pallets.
Through the slats of a pallet, Oliver watched the men unload the caboose, removing the Collector’s belongings and carrying them back toward the warehouse.
Oliver motioned for Anna and Asher to follow, and they slipped between stacks of pallets toward the back of the warehouse.
They slid along the side of the building, careful to remain hidden, until Oliver noticed an old plate-glass basement window near his foot. He knelt to look inside and found a row of large circular chambers outlined by the red glow of an Exit sign.
“It’s the boiler room,” Anna whispered next to him.
He scanned the room for any activity then pushed on the rusted metal frame. After a few firm shoves, the top of the window popped out toward them.
“Think we can fit?” she asked.
Oliver turned around and tucked his feet through the gap in the window. His feet searched for something on which to stand but found nothing but empty space. As he leapt down to the basement floor, he cracked his head on the top of the window. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed the back of his head, holding in a cry of pain.
He searched the room and found an old step stool, which he placed under the window for Anna. He guided her down, and her descent was much more elegant than his. Asher followed.
“You all right?” she asked.
Oliver nodded.
As their eyes adjusted, Oliver crossed the room to a workbench. He rummaged through a pile of old tools and knelt to search the shelf underneath.
“What are you looking for?” she whispered with an air of desperation.
Oliver emerged with a long silver flashlight. “Just in case,” he replied.
They crept out into the hallway, and Oliver stood for a moment, listening for footsteps.
The air was moist, and the plink of water droplets echoed through the hallway.
Oliver clicked the switch on the flashlight, but nothing happened at first. After a few smacks against his wrist, a dingy yellow beam illuminated the hallway. They walked down the corridor, passing several storage rooms before coming to an old concrete staircase.
Moisture stained the walls there, brown streaks running down the chipped gray paint. At the top of the stairs, a heavy metal door blocked their path into the main part of the warehouse, but a light shone through the frosted glass.
Oliver flipped the flashlight off, pulled his weapon from its holster, then slid the flashlight into its place.
He clicked one hilt hammer back on his weapon while he gripped the lighter tightly in the other hand. After pulling the door open slowly, he peered around the corner. Another hallway greeted them, stacked with cardboard boxes and old office equipment.
He gestured for Anna and Asher to follow as he made his way down the hall.
The light was coming from a door at the end of the hallway, and Oliver braced himself for confrontation on the other side.
“Ready?” he whispered.
Anna raised her bat, and Asher stood behind her with his dagger drawn.
The door sat ajar, and Oliver aimed the blade of his gun sword through the crack. He grabbed the handle and pushed the door open, rapidly scanning the room as the sword followed his gaze.
Like the hallway, the room was lined with cardboard boxes and old equipment, but the center of the room housed an old metal gurney that had a woman strapped to it.
Chapter Thirteen
A brown burlap sack covered the woman’s face, but Oliver recognized the black curls sticking out from underneath, and the tattoos were the dead giveaway. Her slender arms were covered with what looked like cigarette burns.
Oliver held his breath as he slowly lifted the bag, hoping to find her alive. The eyes that met his took his breath away.
Oliver barely recognized Ruby’s sunken face. She squinted at first, overcome by the bright light. When her pupils adjusted, tears formed in the corners of her eyes.
“Where’s Asher?” Her hoarse voice sounded as though she hadn’t spoken in days.
Asher stepped forward and leaned over the table, holding his hand to his mouth as he scanned Ruby’s emaciated form. She tried to reach for him, but a leather strap held her tight to the gurney. So he slid a shaking hand under hers and squeezed. Then Asher wiggled the strap free, loosening its grip on her wrist.
“We’re going to get you out of here,” he said, his voice wavering.
Oliver and Asher loosened the remaining straps, and she rubbed her wrists, which had become red from the restraints.
“I told them I couldn’t give any mo
re,” she said. “They took it all—locked it all away in that damned stone.” She looked up at Oliver. “What did he do with it?”
“The gem’s in the warehouse,” Oliver replied. “He used it to trap Christchurch in a fake blizzard. We chased him back here.”
Ruby’s breath quickened, and she grabbed Asher’s hand. “You shouldn’t be here. If he gets to you, he’ll use you like he used me.”
“It’s okay,” Asher replied, rubbing her gently on the back. “He may have the gem, but we’ve got his firepower. We came to rescue you.”
“Do you hear that?” Anna whispered. “Sounds like someone’s coming.”
Ruby’s eyes narrowed. She looked at the dagger dangling in Asher’s hand and pointed. “Give me that and strap my legs back in.”
“What? Why?” Asher asked.
“Just do it.”
Oliver strapped Ruby’s legs back to the gurney, and Asher handed Ruby his weapon. She slid the dagger underneath her right forearm, and Asher laid the straps loose across her wrists to give the appearance that they were still restraining her.
“Hide,” she said through gritted teeth.
Footsteps echoed through the hallway as Oliver, Anna, and Asher hid behind a large stack of filing boxes. Oliver positioned himself so that he had a clear view of the metal table.
As one of the henchmen entered the room, Oliver noticed the burlap sack on the ground, but they had no time to put it back in place.
“Now, how the hell did you get the bag off?” the man asked as he approached. He walked over and picked it up then leaned down to put it back on Ruby.
The strike was almost too fast to see as Ruby swiped the dagger across the man’s front. He opened his mouth to scream, but the only sound that emerged was a desperate gargle. Ruby loosened her other restraint and sat up on the table.
“You should have killed me when you had the opportunity,” she said.
The man fell to the floor, still struggling. After a few more agonized coughs, he stopped moving, and his arms fell limp to his sides, revealing his bloodstained shirt underneath.
Ruby loosened her foot straps and called for the others. Oliver was too stunned to move.
