by Penny Knight
“Wait, I didn’t actually fall asleep, did I? I’m pretty sure he said it’s not.”
“He said that, but he thought differently,” I raise my brows and smile.
“Man, I wish I had what you had. The things I could do,” he says wistfully.
“It’s not always great, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah, I remember.”
“Anyway, you distract him and I’ll go in the back and see if I can find it.”
“Right. How am I meant to do that?”.
“Keep him talking. Oh and keep thinking loud and let me know if he’s coming back there.”
“Ugh, more talking about books,” he groans.
“How can you not find it interesting?”
“Because I was born in this millennium.”
“That’s the problem with kids today,” I shake my head.
“Kids today? You’re like five years older than me.”
“Just keep him talking, and keep me posted on his actions,”
“Ok, ok,” he says.
We continue our search through the store, looking at books and picking some up. We return to Gregory where his stacking shelves from books off his trolley.
“No luck?” Gregory asks.
“No.” I shrug. “I think it’s just a myth. It makes a good story, though.” I smile.
“I’m sure it does.”
Death follows that story; you’d do best to leave it alone. May god have mercy on all of us, if it falls into the hands of the wrong person.
The fear in his thoughts sends goosebumps over my body. He is truly scared of this book. It makes no sense why he would choose to keep it. I really wish I could leave it alone like he says, but it’s my only lead and the only way I might be able to find any answers.
“Do you mind if Graham finishes up the last few questions? I need to find a restroom somewhere.” I shuffle from left to right.
“Dear, you can use the restroom at the back. Just go through the door behind the counter and then take your first left,” he says as I knew he would.
I’ve been working to this question, built up the trust and relationship. Now he’s giving me access to a closed off area. A pang of guilt hits me. He is such a nice man. But, nothing is going to stop me at this point.
“Thanks.”
I grab my bag from the table where I left it and walk back to the door behind the counter.
“So, Gregory, have you ever thought of uploading a digital catalogue online so you could sell to a bigger market?” I hear Topher as I walk into the back.
Gregory has a nice setup, it’s warm and comfortable. A large armchair sits in the room’s corner. In front is the oldest TV that I have seen in a long time. To my right next to the door, a small wooden desk with a green lampshade, a pile of books stacked on top. I find the door to the restroom easily and open then close it shut, but don’t enter.
I wait and listen. Gregory is quietly talking. It’s great he’s a chatter, and if Topher keeps the topic on his store, it will give me plenty of time. I creep back towards the front door and peer in the doorway. It’s clear. They’re still at the front and out of view. I sprint past the open door and to the desk.
Diving straight to the bottom drawer, I pull it open, but it doesn’t budge. Jammed full of books most likely. I wiggle the handle a bit and pull. Keeping the noise as low as possible. It gives a bit, but there’s a book stuck, I can’t see it. Searching the top of the desk, I find a letter opener. With that, I pry the book down and pull the drawer. It opens with a thud.
Shit.
I wait and hold my breath.
There’s nothing, I’m good.
There are so many books in the deep drawer. This is going to take longer than I expected.
I pile out the books on the floor. I remove one book after the other quietly, studying the front carefully and giving it a quick flick through. I want to be thorough, leaving empty-handed is not an option.
I’m low at the bottom and lift a purple hardcover. It’s then I see it. On a brown leather-bound journal, staring back at me, the symbol that was marked on my neck.
Finally.
With both hands, I lift it up. Overwhelmed with curiosity I open the book, scanning the pages. My heart sinks as I realise none of it is in English. I have no idea what language it is, but the pages I have scanned through are unreadable to me. I can see drawings and pictures, handwritten notes. I close my eyes and breathe it in. Somewhere in here are my answers.
ELITA, hurry up.
I hear Topher scream. It must be in his mind. Obviously.
He is wondering where you are.
Crap. I open my bag and place the book in. Stacking the rest of the books back into the drawer.
He is coming to check on you! Hurry, get back out here now.
I jam the last book into place and try to close the drawer. “Shit.”. It doesn’t close. How did he pack this?
What’s taking her so long? That voice is coming from Gregory. I can hear him walking towards the back where I am hunched down in front of his desk.
I open the drawer again, take out the last book from the top and close it shut. Panicked, I place the leftover book on the stack already on the desk and jump to my feet I run to the door.
As I walk through the threshold, I run directly into Gregory.
“Oh, I am so sorry,” I say. “Are you alright. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” I ask politely.
“No, you gave me a bit of a fright though.” He looks at me, then behind and back to me.
“Sorry,” I say.
“You were a while, are you ok?” He keeps peering over my shoulder.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I step around him and keep an even pace as I walk towards Topher.
After a few seconds, I hear footsteps behind me. Thankfully, he doesn’t go investigate any further.
I reach Topher as he stands by the front table, tapping his foot. Extending my hand when I reach him, he catches on and he hands me back the amulet.
“Did you finish up?” I ask him.
“Yes, all our questions have been answered,” he says.
“Great.” I turn to Gregory who was standing quietly behind me. “We really appreciate you taking the time to talk with us.” I extend my hand.
As he shakes it, I continue, “We really should be heading off, it’s a long drive back to Adelaide.”
Gregory releases my hand. “Yes, I believe it is.” He smiles.
“It was nice to meet you,” Topher says. “You’re right Jessica, it is a long drive back, and we better leave soon, if we intend to make it back before sunset.”
I can hear the warning in his voice, and he’s right. It would be close, but if we left now, we might actually make it.
I don’t try to get myself into these situations. I really had planned on being back on time. Sometimes things just happen.
“That’s it.” Topher kicks the tyre. “What the hell is wrong with that fucking bolt?”
I slowly close the boot of the car not looking forward to what I have to tell him.
“Um, so do you remember last year when I hit the curb at the shops and my tyre burst? And then that nice man helped me change the flat?”
He rubs the back of his head, “Yeah, what did he do to the bolt?”
“Not sure. But I think the question is more like what did I forget to do?”
He stands there waiting.
“I don’t have a spare.”
Silence.
We had driven for two hours before I hit that pothole. It came out of nowhere. We were already cutting it close, which is not all my fault. Topher was starving, so we grabbed something to eat in town before heading off.
Now the sun is setting, and we are stuck in the middle of nowhere with a flat and no spare.
Oops.
“Are you fucking serious?” He starts. “Who goes off on a road trip with no spare?”
I sigh.
“That’s it, I’m calling him.” He walks to the car.
Topher opens the door to the car and jumps inside to get his phone. The red hue left from the sun falling shines over the dirt, orange and purple paint the sky. Mesmerised, my eyes get drawn further down. A figure. In the distance. A black silhouette sauntering down the middle of the road. I stand taller.
“Uh, Topher?” I call out.
“Hang on.”
The figure stalks forward in the distance. I rub my eyes to make sure I am not hallucinating, but when I open them it’s still there. The closer it gets I notice its dragging something in its hand.
“Topher,” I call again.
“Yeah?” He gets out of the car putting the phone down and looks up.
“Um, can you see that?” I point.
“What?” He follows my hand. “What the fuck?” He squints.
We both watch as the figure keeps walking. A shiver runs down my spine. I can see hair flowing in the distance, but I don’t think it’s a woman. It’s tall and looks big, masculine. He lifts the object he was dragging on the ground up. Maybe a walking stick.
The last ray of the red hue bounces off it. It’s not a walking stick.
I lean forward, squinting.
A sword.
“Elita, get in the car!” Topher yells.
We both dive as fast as we can into the car, locking all doors.
“Fuck!” he cries out.
It happens fast. The figure is at my door. Too fast to be human from where he was from. The scream coming from my mouth is deafening. His face is close to the window with a cruel smile. His mouth has a scar from his bottom lip and runs down his chin, very noticeable even with his rough beard. His eyes are hard and glistening. He laughs. I can hear him through the window. Is he laughing at me?
In an instant he stops and glares, hatred burning in his eyes. His hand reaches for the door handle, and rips the door off it’s hinges in one swift motion.
“Run!” I scream to Topher as I jump into the back seat.
Topher escapes through the front door. I get to the back hitting my knee on the dash jumping to the other side of the car trying to unlock the door to escape.
“Leave her.” Comes a deep voice, and I am so happy to hear it.
Adrenaline courses through my veins, fire fuelling the beast. I am the beast. I heard her screams, they ripped through my soul.
“Well, look who it is,” he says. Backing off Elita to stand staunch towards me. “King Leonidas. What a pleasure you could join us.”
His arrogant snicker grinds my already unhinged nerves.
First thing’s first. Before I deal with this traitor. I need her safe.
“Run,” I say, looking right at her.
She blinks out of her trance and for once listens. Running out of the back door into the wilderness. This makes him laugh more.
“Silly little lamb,” he says.
“Milan.”. My voice calm and measured. “Leave now, while you still can.”
“What?” He cocks his head, “I have done nothing. Not one infraction. You can’t do shit.”
I step closer.
“Try me.” I grind out, my voice low. He’s right, the laws I abide by, the ones I am responsible to enforce, dictate he has broken none.
He chuckles.
Doesn’t mean today won’t be the day that changes. Let’s see if he’s as easy to anger as his dear old daddy.
“You think I don’t know what you and your washed-up father are planning?” I say and watch his playful eyes go dark. Good. I wanted to hit him in his sore spot.
“You know nothing,” he growls, his voice low.
“No, you’re wrong,” I smirk. “I know you believe your father’s lies. I think you mean I’m worried about nothing. You will not succeed. They never have. They never will. Why don’t you ask your dad what happens to traitors when they fail?”
His hand grips the sword tighter. Come on. Commit an infraction, anything I can use against him, I’ll take it. The need to crush him crawls inside me. It’s so overpowering I’m still reeling from what could have happened to her.
I see Broderick staying back past eyesight behind Milan, biding his time.
“You can’t keep her.” His eyes narrow.
“She is mine,” I say. No truer words were ever spoken. I will take the wrath of the Omni any day. If it means protecting her. One move that endangers her life, I won’t hesitate.
My eyes move for a split second where Elita is hiding behind a tall tree. But that’s all the time he needs. He spotted it, taking advantage of my distraction. His sword flies through the air and barrels through my torso. I grind my teeth as the fierce pain hits me.
Elita’s gasp filters through my ears. No doubt from the sword going all the way through.
I pull the handle of the blade. Inch by inch, I draw it out. Dislodging it from my ribs, my eyes now fixed on Milan.
“That’s an infraction.” I smile.
His grin grows wider. He’s enjoying the defiance against me. And I will enjoy ripping his head right off.
With that thought, we both take off.
Meeting in the air, I taste my first success. I land a hard punch to his upper ribcage and keep a hold of his right arm. The momentum of my powerful attack thrusts him back, causing his arm to dislodge from his joint. Dislocated. Not detached, unfortunately.
He grunts in pain.
I release his limp arm, and he falls to the ground, but only for a moment.
His good arm plows straight into my open wound. I hunch over. Releasing the pressure and the pain. His head comes up fast, crashing into mine sending me back a few paces.
His strength is impressive for a relatively new immortal. But I’m just getting warmed up and pain feeds the beast in me.
With a roar I attack again, but as I get to him, he’s gone. His scent dancing around until he’s at a distance in front of me with the boy in his arms.
Milan has the boy’s neck positioned to snap it.
“Go ahead,” I say. He’s of no use to me, and I can get to him as he makes the move.
“No!” Elita yells, her voice dripping with fear. My jaw clenches.
“Little lamb. Come out, come out wherever you are,” he sings.
“Elita. Stay. Back,” I say through gritted teeth.
“You could,” Milan says. “Or you can step out and I will save this scrawny puppet.” He squeezes the kid’s neck tighter, making a strangled noise from deep in his throat. “Or I end him now.”
“Ok, ok, take me instead.” She runs out from behind the tree.
It all happens so fast. I’m left with a lump in my throat as I see her in his arms, his gloating smile staring back at me.
Broderick had one task. To ensure she would be safe. No one could have expected her to give herself up.
He lowers his head and sniffs her hair.
“Don’t even think about it,” he says. His eyes on me as he holds her tighter. “We don’t really need her alive, and I’m more than happy to kill her in front of you.”
“Let. Her. Go,” I say.
“You are not in any position to give orders, now are you?” The cocky bastard boasts.
My mind ticks over as it deals with this situation. Why do they not need her alive? I don’t believe him. He needs to find a way out of here, with her. So, I need to stop him before he makes good on his threat.
Broderick is slowly stalking forward silently. Two against one are much better odds. Especially when it’s Broderick and I behind them.
My eyes stay focused on Elita.
“Come on little lamb,” he teases. “Show me what all the fuss is about.” He pulls on her hair.
Instead of fear, which should be present, anger flares in her eyes. I know because I have seen that look directed at me plenty of times. Her face tightens and her eyes narrow. She says nothing, but her
eyes are now locked on mine.
Broderick is still advancing slowly.
“Oh no,” he says, moving one of his arms off Elita to point behind him, “tell your man to back off.”
I don’t react to what he says. My eyes have not left hers. She must have sensed his movement being momentarily weaker. She drops her entire weight from her feet and slips through his arms.
Smart.
That is all I need.
I fly and tackle Milan, our bodies flying into a thick tree. With the force of the speed it breaks in half, toppling to the ground with a thunderous boom. The trunk drawing a line between him and me.
“This isn’t over,” he says and disappears. Retreating from the fight, the coward. In a rage, I bend over and pick up the large tree trunk, throwing it after him, but it hits nothing.
It appeases nothing.
He’s gone. I let out a long, deep breath.
The troubles with the Uprising will only intensify, seeing they know about Elita and her importance. At least now I can put the call out on Milan. Something concrete to bring him in for. He was willing to make such a punishable move against me, knowing what the risk would be. They must have their sights firmly set on her.
This is not good news.
I look back and see her and the boy embrace, tears in her eyes as she holds him tight.
Her eyes meet mine and go from soft to hard.
Great.
I have no doubt done something again to anger her. Containing her now is going to be harder. She must realise the danger she’s in. I don’t understand her need to make this all harder for everyone.
This ends now.
This should have ended last night after what happened. At sunset she should have been back at the hotel, safe.
Fuck, I want to throw another tree. Short of ripping one from the ground, I can’t do that. Instead, I square my shoulders and march towards them.
Broderick steps in my path.
“Maybe you should cool down before you say or do something that makes this worse,” he says.
“Worse?” I growl. “Did you not see her offer herself to him? What is worse than that?”
He flinches. “Topher could not have called. He could have taken her. And we would not have had a chance to stop him.”
