Davis paused in his nervous tick to smooth back his dark hair from the wound on his forehead. Hair stuck to the remaining adhesive left behind from when he removed the bandage. He noticed her stare and he lifted an eyebrow. His grey eyes stared coldly at her. It was as if he was daring her to say something. It was almost as if he knew what was on her mind and silently egged her to challenge him with some smartass remark.
Claire didn’t say anything, but removed her gaze from him. She now focused on Simon and her stare became icy cold as she glared at the back of his head.
She was really beginning to hate him. Simon was a cold-hearted bastard. He was manipulative, abusive and deceitful. Claire had not yet forgotten the threat he made earlier, and she had to admit, she was scared. He was unstable, anyone could see that.
But why? Why was he doing this? Claire couldn’t figure it out, no matter how much she racked her brain. She couldn’t figure it out.
“It’s all fucking stupid,” Davis said suddenly. All eyes in the van turned toward him. He replaced the magazine into the Beretta one last time with a hard slam and set it aside roughly. His gaze was locked onto Simon.
“You have something to say, Davis?” Simon inquired. There was a touch of humor in his voice.
“Yeah, I have something to say. I think this is all fucking stupid. We could’ve killed them back at the hotel, but no, you don’t want them dead. Why the fuck not, Simon? It’s what you’re good at, isn’t it? Killing others, hurting people? It seems right up your alley. I’m surprised you passed up the opportunity.”
No one spoke, and Davis was allowed his rant. Simon watched with an amused expression, whereas Claire was shocked at his sudden outburst. He went on.
“Why do you want them alive? You’ve been staring at those files for the past few weeks, talking of nothing else but your ‘plan’. What fucking plan? Why don’t you fucking clue us all in on it? Maybe then we can have a tiny bit of insight into that complicated mind of yours.”
Davis stopped there. He had become red in the face, and his eyes shone brightly at Simon. Claire noticed flecks of brown and gold mixed in with the grey hue. She blinked a few times. She expected Simon to explode, to become angry and try to hurt someone. She even braced herself for it and her body tensed.
But Simon’s face contorted into a smile. It surprised Davis, and he narrowed his eyes. Simon licked his lips before speaking. He twisted around in his seat with his gaze keen on Davis.
“Do you really want inside my head, Davis?” he asked, but did not wait for a response. Instead, he remarked in a cool voice, “I was beginning to wonder when you were going to grow a backbone and join the rest of the vertebrates.”
He said nothing more and turned his attention back to staring out the window. Eric did likewise, but not before shaking his head at Davis. Davis was at a loss for words. He turned to Claire as if to ask, “what the fuck just happened there?”
Claire could only answer with a shrug. Simon had made a very valid point. Did they really want to know what he was thinking? Partly yes, Claire figured. She wondered what he was up to, why he did things the way he did. Another part of her screamed no! She was afraid Simon’s mind was some deep, dank cavern which upon entering, they would never return unscathed.
Davis took a deep breath, grabbed his gun and began once more to nervously remove the clip. For the first time, she noticed his hands were shaking. She looked away and back down at the computer screen before her.
Eric and Simon talked quietly in the front but she tuned out the conversation. It was tedious waiting, and Claire knew this was the calm before the storm. It frightened her when she thought that.
What was going to happen next? What was the next step in Simon’s plan?
Quickly, she began typing, to make herself look incredibly busy. Hopefully, they wouldn’t bother or question her. She just wanted to be alone right now with her thoughts.
Davis stared at the gun in his hand, but not really seeing it. It had become a blurred thing of plastic and metal in his hands. He was aware of his shaking hands, but he couldn’t stop them. Ever since that night, whenever he held a firearm, his hands would shake…
The drugs had played a part in consoling him in the months after it had happened, but they could never really take it all away. Something fought at his will, and no matter how many of the pain numbing pills he took, they never seemed to dull it out. By now, he should’ve been dead, overdosed months ago.
I was lucky, Davis guessed with a slight sneer. He wondered when Sean and Michael were going to get here. He hated waiting. He would much rather get it over and done with.
Davis pushed more of his hair away from his face and threw the gun aside, now annoyed at the device. He leaned forward, his face in his hands and took a stifling breath of stale air.
Simon was one fucked up guy, there was no denying that. Eric seemed to be an ass kisser, always there to follow orders obediently and back up Simon if necessary. Claire was the only person in the van that seemed normal to him. She was okay. She hadn’t laughed at him when he had told her his secret, and for that, Davis was grateful.
He watched her through the spaces between his fingers and wondered just what she was doing all that time on the laptop. He caught her once or twice looking at him, and he noticed her dark eyes were sad and her face was pale. Her golden bangs framed her forehead and tangled tendrils of it fell by her ears. She looked about like he felt.
Davis took comfort in at least one thought: He wasn’t alone in his pain and misery, and at least he had someone to share his thoughts with, if she would allow him.
He thought on it more. After all this was over and done with, maybe he would ask her out and talk to her more about what happened.
For now, it was impossible. But maybe one day…
Maybe…
* * *
Something was not right. Whatever it was woke Jason from his slumber. When he opened his eyes, he was greeted once more by the comforting darkness. The room was silent.
He did not wake up with a cold sweat, his heart was not racing, and he wasn’t anxious, like he had just suffered through a nightmare. Something was not right. Jason sat up in the bed. Rose shifted her weight and got comfortable with the pillow next to him. He watched her a moment. The shadows played on her white skin and gave it an unnatural pallor. He glanced around the room.
Something had woken him and it was something unpleasant. Jason exhaled and let his eyes continue their search of the room. Nothing was amiss. He breathed in the cool air. Nothing smelled different.
So what was it? He had no clue, but he was awake now and sleep was not going to come back anytime soon.
There was no clock in the room to tell him how long he had been asleep. He could’ve been asleep for a few minutes, or a few hours. Languidly, he dressed in just his jeans. His bare toes flexed upon the carpet. His eyes followed the movements of his pale shadow on the wall. Everything seemed all right, but it wasn’t.
He could feel it.
Jason was sometimes given to these strange premonitions, but he had always put them aside, considering them just paranoia on his part. This time, it felt different. It was like the feeling he had gotten when he felt Rose was in trouble. It was just as intense.
He didn’t dismiss it as he normally would have, but he kept it fresh in his mind. Jason slipped out into the dimly lit hallway and closed the door softly behind him. The hardwood floor in the hall was cold upon his feet, but Jason didn’t mind. He moved quietly along the corridor.
A grandfather clock told him the time to be close to midnight. They had been asleep for quite some time. And he was hungry. His stomach growled at him and hunger pangs hit him quite suddenly.
Was that what woke me? Jason thought about it a moment as he descended the staircase and turned toward the hall leading to the spacious kitchen. No, it couldn’t have been simply hunger. It was something more.
It was unsettling.
Jason pushed open the door to the kitchen a
nd found it blissfully empty. He flipped on the switch and the room was flooded with ugly fluorescent light. It made his eyes burn a moment, and he closed them briefly so he could adjust.
He opened the door to the fridge and began to snoop around. He was impressed by what he found. The refrigerator was full of different sorts of foods. Fruits and vegetables filled the bottom crisper while cans of sodas and bottles of water lined the door. The other shelves had milk, lunchmeat, cheeses, assortments of all sorts of different foods…and meats!
Jason reached for the package of thawed steak and stared down at the juicy red t-bone in the plastic packaging and his mouth watered. He had found what he wanted and shut the door. His stomach growled louder.
He soon found a frying pan after banging around in the bottom of a few cabinets and the top of another. He had it on the stove at full heat in a matter of seconds. The steak sizzled as it began to warm. The juices filled the skillet and the smell drifted. Jason flipped it over once, and watched it brown around the edges. He couldn’t take it anymore.
He didn’t wait for the steak to cool but devoured it, extra rare as it was. It was heaven, and Jason even closed his eyes as he savored the bloody meat. The steak was soon gone with nothing left but a cleaned bone and a warm, full feeling in Jason’s stomach.
The dishes went into the sink for someone else to clean up. He stepped out of the kitchen, shutting the light off. The house was silent and it disturbed him. The halls were too cold, and for a brief moment, he wondered if Anna had been right about spirits inhabiting this place. Even as he moved silently as possible, the soft pattering of his feet echoed loudly, and he found himself glancing over his shoulders now and again.
This is foolish, he thought suddenly as he turned down a hallway near where the meeting happened earlier. He paused and turned his head in the faint light to the furnishings on the wall. So far, he had only glimpsed a few paintings here and there of PRDI founders and well-to-do members. A few landscape paintings sometimes caught his eye but nothing of real interest, but this hall was different.
Ancient weapons covered the wall. It was a vast collection of swords from several centuries and several continents. There were daggers, axes, crossbows and so much more. Ancient suits of armor stood guard near the wall. Jason’s mouth dropped open.
How could I have missed this?
He took a step forward, his hand ready to reach out and grasp one of the black handled katanas. It looked ready to be removed from its wall mount, and Jason only wanted to hold it, feel its weight and admire the sharpened blade. It was beautiful.
“I wouldn’t touch those.” A voice sounded behind him, loud and powerful in the suffocating silence. Jason jumped and withdrew his hand, like a young child caught in the act of reaching into the cookie jar. He spun around and stood face to face with Gavin.
Gavin stood a few feet behind him, his hands behind his back. There was a smile on his face as he studied the swords as well. Jason looked him up and down and took one step away from the collection.
“You would be surprised how many times we’ve had to instill that rule into our younger students. They are always fascinated by weapons of destruction, aren’t they? The rule still applies to the other non-members as well.” His eyes flashed for a moment from the collection to Jason. “They are not to be touched.”
Jason lifted one eyebrow and changed the subject. “How did you find me?” His voice was tense.
Gavin laughed softly and the sound reverberated. “Young man, are you forgetting what I am? What you are? I simply had to follow my nose to find you. It wasn’t that difficult.” He spoke with such a calm air that it made Jason want to punch him all the more. He felt his face burn again. He hadn’t exactly considered that. He was always forgetting the little things.
“Well, you found me. You accomplished what you want, I assume?” Jason said back, mocking Gavin’s sickening sweet tone.
The other man went silent a moment. He moved his hands from behind his back and stared down at them for a moment. “No, actually. I wanted to apologize.”
Jason scoffed. “For what? For the PRDI being a bunch of incompetent assholes? You don’t have to apologize for that. I understand.” Again, that mocking and sarcastic tone sounded out his words.
Gavin’s temple throbbed as he clenched his teeth together. He seemed to be composing himself, thinking of just what to say. After a brief moment, he spoke. This time, he held out a hand.
“I want to start over. We got off on the wrong foot, and I want to set things right. Perhaps you were correct in the PRDI’s mistakes, but they are mistakes which we are learning from. Let us reconcile our differences for the time being and focus on the real issue here.”
Jason stared at Gavin’s open hand with a look of distaste. He didn’t extend his own, but merely stared. After a moment, he looked up and into Gavin’s eyes.
“I’ve resolved to get through this issue of the hunters before Rose and I move on,” Jason said. “But I have a few conditions.”
Gavin nodded and withdrew his hand. “Name them.”
A grin spread across Jason’s face. “We’ll let you get involved as much as you have to. I’ll let you do your research on them and find out what you can. I don't want anything to do with the PRDI."
Gavin considered a moment and then nodded. Jason continued.
“My last condition…when it’s time to confront the hunters, I want to do it. I want to be the one to give them hell for what they’ve done. I want no PRDI involvement there.”
Gavin opened his mouth to protest and wet his lips. “You do realize that you may be outnumbered?”
“Of course I realize this, but I’m not afraid. This is personal, Gavin. I would rather fight a hundred hunters and die for what’s right, than to sit aside and let someone do the fighting for me. It’s personal. I want revenge.”
Again, a look of concentration crossed Gavin’s face and he seemed to consider. A long moment passed as Gavin moved forward. His eyes were not only fixated on Jason but on the weapon collection before him. When he did speak, his voice sounded tired, and a sigh exhaled with his words.
“What good is fighting for what’s right, if you die in doing so?”
Jason stared at Gavin in shock. “People die for this country in times of war, isn’t this the same thing?” The anger he had felt earlier quickly rose within him once more.
“We’re not at war, Jason,” Gavin said, and turned his green eyes upon him. “This fight isn’t a war.”
Jason’s hands balled into fists and turned white under his rage. He felt a tightening in his muscles and his eyes burned. He knew they were golden with upset. He feared another close call coming on soon, and he didn’t want to risk it. So in a very low voice, he said his final words to Gavin.
“It is to me.”
And he turned and continued down the hall and away from the stunned man who stood there.
Chapter Twenty-One
A pair of headlights signaled an oncoming vehicle’s approach at the end of the block and Simon was the first to notice. He opened the door, climbed out of the cab of the van and stood there, waiting. The vehicle was unfamiliar and unrecognizable and the occupants could not be seen clearly yet due to the blinding light.
They pulled to the curb opposite of the van. Eric stepped out and made his way around to open the sliding door to the van. A cold gust of air flew in and Claire shivered as she reached for her jacket.
The car was another luxury sedan, much like the one Davis had been driving earlier, but this one was much less flashy. The headlights and engine went off and the doors opened. Michael was the first to step out, doing so from the driver’s seat. Several other men exited from the back and one from the passenger’s seat. Claire didn’t recognize any of them, but she watched them closely as she climbed out of the van.
Simon took a long drag from his cigarette, then dropped it to the asphalt under his boot and crushed it as he strode forward. His expression was unreadable.
; Davis was the last to get out of the van. He stood with his back resting against the van and his arms crossed. He watched the others with a cold stare.
Simon met them halfway across the street.
“You’re late,” he said, addressing Michael. The young blond man blanched, and was about to stammer some sort of reply when one of his companions spoke up.
“That would be my fault, Simon,” he answered. He was nearly as tall as Simon, with sandy brown hair combed back in a pretty boy style. He had no expression upon his face. Simon stared at him.
“Well, explain, Sean.”
Davis’s eyes moved over the other men gathered there. He knew none of them, but they looked like an unfavorable lot. They were all dressed in drab attire and several different weapons were held in their gloved hands. Just looking at them made Davis feel nervous. He shifted his gaze back to the two men talking, but not before catching a glimpse of Claire. She looked nervous as well.
“We were waiting for the other men, but they were on another…excursion.” He spoke the last word with a grin, and much to Davis’ and Claire’s surprise, Simon grinned back.
“I was wondering where the rest of the party happened to be. No matter. I think we have enough.” He thoughtfully rubbed his chin a moment. “Where are they now?”
“The last we heard they were tailing a group of them out of town.”
Simon nodded. “And Alana?”
Claire gave a shake of her head and crossed her arms over her chest. It was cold out, and fast moving clouds blocked out the half moon and any stars that had been out. It looked like it was going to rain.
Sean chuckled. “You know her. She probably had a manicure appointment she didn’t want to miss.”
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