by Bryan Davis
Liam whispered, “I’ll stall as long as I can, but you’d better think about improvising somehow.”
“If I can create a distraction,” I said, “will you take care of the coffee?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll put the vial under the bag. Pour all of it into the pot.”
“I will.” Liam looked at me through the rearview mirror, his expression grave. “After I leave, I’ll stay close to the camp for a while in case you need help.”
“Thanks. That’ll be great.”
He stopped the van next to the watchtower, lowered the window, and leaned out. “Sorry about the horn. The button’s a bit touchy.”
“Yeah,” a guard said. “So are we. Big day here. We’re all kind of jumpy.”
“Really? What’s up?”
“I can’t tell you. Sorry.” The guard’s voice drifted to the side of the van. “Is the back locked?”
“No. I’ll get out and open it for—”
“No problem. I got it.”
I readied my fist. I could take one guard out easily, but after that? No clue.
The door opened. The guard aimed a flashlight inside. I lunged, grabbed his arms, and hauled him in. With a quick punch to the jaw, I knocked him out cold.
The surrounding light dimmed. One searchlight down. Sing had done her job. The watchtower searchlight swept toward the darkened one, leaving the van in shadows. Guards shouted, some near, some far. Pounding footsteps followed. Sing wouldn’t have time to get to the remaining light. I had to go for it myself.
After waiting a few more seconds for the immediate area to quiet, I jumped out. Ducking low, I ran to the watchtower and climbed up the narrow ladder attached to the side, making sure my feet pressed silently on each rung.
When I reached the bowl-shaped top, I crept over a metal railing and sneaked toward a female guard. She stood behind the light, her eyes following the beam as it scanned the roof near the other searchlight.
A radio in her hand buzzed, then a male voice crackled. “Is the light secure?”
She held the radio close to her mouth and pressed a button. “So far. It’s as quiet as a cemetery up here.”
“Probably just a malfunction on the other one, then. You might as well come down.”
She attached the radio to her belt, muttering, “They’re scared of their own shadows.”
I threw my arm around her neck and squeezed, simultaneously cutting off her air and blood supply. She thrashed for a moment before drooping limply in my arms. I had to work fast. Sleeper holds rarely knocked anyone out for more than a couple of minutes.
After laying her on the watchtower roof, I jerked out my flashlight and aimed it at a tangle of cables. Just as Tori had reported, a thick power cord ran from an outlet embedded in the roof up to the light’s housing.
“Proctor,” the man in the radio said. “Want some coffee? The delivery man is brewing it himself. Says it’s a special Irish blend.”
I grabbed the power cord and pulled, but the plug wouldn’t budge.
“Proctor?” the man said. “What’s the word?”
I withdrew a dagger from my belt and set it against the cord. I held my breath, bracing for a shock.
The radio crackled again. “Proctor’s not answering.”
“I’ll check it out,” a woman replied.
Gritting my teeth, I sliced through the cord. Sparks flew everywhere. The jolt knocked me backwards, making me stagger to regain my balance. The searchlight blinked off. Now in darkness except for a minimal glow from distant streetlamps, I pushed the dagger back to my belt and crouched next to Proctor. After snatching her radio, I climbed over the railing and slid down the ladder.
When I neared the bottom, my feet slammed into something that gave way. A loud grunt sounded, then a thud. I grabbed my flashlight and flicked it on. A female guard lay on the ground, groaning.
I dropped to my knees, straddled her body, and slapped my hand over her mouth. As she struggled, I shone the light in her eyes. Theresa!
“Give me a sign,” I hissed. “I’m going to uncover your mouth, and your first words had better prove that you’re on my side. Otherwise, I’m going to have to knock you out. Got it?”
Her brow lifting high, she nodded vigorously.
I slowly peeled my hand back. She whispered, “I’m working for the Raven.”
“That’ll do.” I jumped to my feet and hoisted Theresa to hers. “Sorry about the rough treatment, but I have to work fast.”
“I’m fine.” She smoothed out her dampened uniform. “It’s okay.”
I nodded at a radio clipped to her belt. “Give me cover.”
Theresa grabbed her radio and pushed the talk button. “This is Andrews. I haven’t figured out what’s wrong with the light, but…” She glanced at me before continuing. “I’m guessing it must be something in the circuit for both of them to go down.”
“Are you okay?” came the reply. “You sound shaky.”
“I fell from the ladder. Not far, though. I’m all right.”
“Well, that’s good, but Eddings isn’t responding from the other light station, so everyone is hustling to the rooftops.”
“All clear here. I’ll join them.”
The van door closed. Liam was ready to go. I touched Theresa’s shoulder. “Tell him you checked the delivery van, that the other guard went to the searchlight.”
She nodded and pressed the button again. “By the way, the van is clean. I checked it out for Scott. He went to the other light.”
“Thanks. I’ll send it through.”
The headlights flashed on, and the engine clattered to life. Liam drove away, apparently with an unconscious guard still inside.
I grasped Theresa’s wrist. “Whatever you do, don’t drink the coffee. We spiked it. Understand?”
She nodded. “I’ll go to the Hilton and pour a cup for Alex and Peter.”
“Thanks. Just don’t be too obvious.” While Theresa hurried toward the Hilton, I turned Proctor’s radio down and, keeping it close to my ear, hustled through the darkness toward the prisoners’ quarters. A wavering light in the distance guided my way, a single guard at the door holding a flashlight. The other guard had probably responded to a call for help from the searchlight roof.
Chatter buzzed through the radio’s speaker, excited voices bouncing back and forth.
“The searchlight’s been smashed.”
“Did you see who did it?”
“I saw a shadow breeze by. I’ve never seen anyone who’s that fast.”
“Got to be a ghost.”
“Don’t be stupid. Ghosts can’t smash a searchlight.”
“I’ll call Alex, anyway. A Reaper can help no matter who did it.”
I firmed my lips. Perfect. Now I had an excuse to be in the yard. If the guard at the door happened to be listening in, this would be easy.
As I neared the quarters, I pulled my hood up and shaded my face. “Hey! I heard you’re having some ghost trouble.”
The guard’s flashlight beam fell across my chest, illuminating my tunic and cloak. “Peter?”
“Right. Phoenix and Shanghai are gone. I guess you heard about them.”
He nodded. “You got here fast. I heard they’re just about to call for Reaper help.”
I showed him the radio. “Alex has been monitoring. She sent me out a while ago.”
The guard, a medium-sized guy wearing a rain slicker, looked up at the roof. “Do you really think a rogue ghost is doing all this?”
“Most likely. Who else could get up to those places?” I pointed at the door. “I saw one go inside just a second ago. Can you let me in?”
“An invisible one, huh?” He inserted a key into the lock and opened the door. “You Reapers sure are handy sometimes.”
“Thanks.” I turned my flashlight on and gestured for him to enter. “Escort, please? I can’t handle two hundred nervous prisoners.”
“Here’s your escort.” He shoved me through the entry. I st
umbled forward to get my balance and spun back. The door slammed. I leaped to it and tried to turn the knob. Locked. I thrust my shoulder against the door. It rattled but held firm.
I stepped back and listened to the radio. Dead silence. I dropped it to the concrete floor. What a fool! That guard played me like a dollar-store banjo. Alex knew I’d come here and clued him in. But what did that mean for Sing and Shanghai?
Whispers crept up behind me, frightened and indistinct. I turned slowly. In the darkness, glowing eyes drifted closer as if floating on water. “Ghosts,” I whispered.
One of the pairs of eyes drew within arm’s reach. “Phoenix?”
I swung the flashlight that way. The beam passed through the body of a male figure. His dark face, shaven head, and cloaked frame gave away his identity. “Cairo?”
He nodded, making his glowing eyes bob. “What’s going on? How did I get in this place?”
I cringed. The poor kid! And his mother! Her words flowed back to my mind. And since two Reapers showed up, well I guess that means Noah’s gonna have blessings overflowing!
I shook my head. I couldn’t dwell on it. Yet, since he was already level two or higher, his accelerated entrenchment likely due to his being a Reaper, he could help our cause. “Listen. I’ll tell you all I know soon. But bottom line is that you’re a ghost now. I need you to go through this door and find—”
A light knock sounded. “Phoenix?”
“Shanghai?” I spun back. “Is Sing with you?”
“No. I thought she’d be with you.”
“She’s not.” I took a breath. “Listen. This room is empty except for ghosts. The guards aren’t asleep. They know we’re in the camp.”
“I guessed that. I had to knock a guard out to get to you. But that doesn’t mean they know about the coffee. They might still drink it.”
“True, but we can’t wait to find out.” I set a hand on the door. “The guard you knocked out. Did he have any keys?”
“Not that I noticed. I can look.”
“No time for that.” I turned to Cairo. “Want to help?”
His eyes widened. “Sure. Anything.”
I pointed at the door. “Just walk right through and help the Reaper on the other side. Her name is Shanghai.”
He visibly swallowed. “Okay. If you say so.”
“I say so.” I turned back to the door. “Shanghai, you said you memorized the camp layout on the tablet, right?”
“Right. There’s not much to it.”
“I’m sending a ghost to help you look for Sing and the prisoners. He can sneak around in places you can’t. I’ll let him tell you his story. While you’re searching, I’ll figure out how to escape from here. Then I’ll go to the tower and try to open the front gate. If you can spring everyone, they can make a dash for it.”
“Got it. Send him through.”
I waved an arm at Cairo. “Go!”
With his hands out in front, he walked through the door. As soon as he disappeared, I aimed the flashlight at the room’s upper reaches and locked its beam on an open window—Sing’s escape hatch.
I detached my spool, pulled out some line, and threw the weight. The line wound neatly around a beam and held fast.
As more ghosts drifted toward me, I focused on the closest few—mostly men who looked at me with confused expressions. It would take too long to explain the situation.
“Sorry, guys. I have to go.” I slid my flashlight away, climbed up, and eased my body through the window. After reeling in my line and reattaching the spool, I jumped and sailed to the ground.
The moment I gained my balance, I ran toward the tower, the breaking dawn providing light. No sirens sounded. Maybe the drug was working and the guards were out cold. With no radio chatter, it was impossible to tell.
Light rain pelted my cloak, prompting me to raise my hood. The sparse turf had softened, now somewhat slick. Since dawn had arrived, the streetlamps had darkened, and clouds shielded the area from the rising sun, giving me cover as I skulked across the yard toward the watchtower. At the top of the tower, no one stood in the searchlight perch. If Proctor had awakened, she wasn’t in sight at the moment.
When I arrived, I stood close to the wall next to the ladder. The prisoners’ quarters and the Hilton lay in view. I scanned the yard and the rooftops. No sign of Sing. A light flashed in the windows over my head. More lights came to life in surrounding buildings, including the Hilton. Electricity cut-off hours had ended.
Keeping my back to the wall, I edged around the tower to the entry door. As silently as possible, I turned the knob. Unlocked.
I stared at the door. Strange. Why would they leave it unlocked? I pulled it slowly open. The watchtower was a perfect place for an ambush, but I had to follow through. Too many lives depended on me.
Chapter Twenty-five
Opening the tower door revealed a concrete stairway leading almost straight up to an open area, separated from the stairs by a railing. A guard lay sprawled across the top three steps, a dark mug gripped loosely in his fingers. Coffee dripped from the cup’s edge and trickled down the stairwell. No sounds emanated from above.
I withdrew a dagger and crept upward, one tip-toed step after the other. When my eyes rose even with the upper floor, I stopped and peeked into a circular room. A second guard sat in a wheeled chair, his upper body slumped over a desk. He blocked a monitor, one of more than a dozen attached to the wall above the desk and below a series of observation windows that encircled the room.
I hurried the rest of the way up and leaped over the guard at the top of the stairs. I ran across the concrete floor to the slumped guard, wheeled him away from the desk, and scanned the controls.
Switches and dials were embedded in the wall under the monitors, probably a way to manipulate the cameras. A pair of binoculars rested on the desk next to a three-foot-long control board, but with so many switches and dials, how could I figure out which one controlled the gate? Trial and error might trip an alarm and give me away.
I walked slowly around the room, looking through the surrounding windows at the prison yard and buildings. In the dim glow of the rising sun, the yard lay motionless. The entire facility looked like an abandoned town, forgotten for a century.
A pair of objects moved on the Hilton’s rooftop. I scooped up the binoculars and used them to focus on two figures—Shanghai and Cairo, skulking low as they eased toward the back edge of the roof. Shanghai pointed at something in the direction of the parking area outside the camp. She then leaned close to Cairo as if speaking covertly. Seconds later, Cairo climbed down the front of the building, still inside the camp, while Shanghai disappeared on the opposite side.
I lowered the binoculars and set them on the desk. Whatever Shanghai was up to, I could trust her.
I studied the array of monitors. The screens displayed various rooms and corridors in the prison facility, including one that provided a view of the Hilton’s dining area, but they showed no signs of activity.
A radio on the closest guard’s belt crackled. “Phoenix? I see you in there.”
I looked out the window again. Alex and Peter stood at the Hilton’s door, Alex with a radio to her lips. Sing stood between them, her head low.
I spun the guard’s chair and snatched the radio from his belt. Pressing the talk button, I kept my eye on Alex and forced a calm tone. “Just thought I’d get a better look at the sunrise.”
Her soft laugh sputtered through the speaker. “I have to give you credit for ingenuity. I didn’t expect the drugged coffee, but I was able to avoid it.”
“How?”
“Let’s just say that it’s very difficult to keep secrets from an Owl.”
I looked again through the binoculars and focused on Sing. Blood dripped from her nose. Apparently Peter had beaten her up. I shifted to Alex. No sign of last night’s facial wound. How could that be? The mysteries surrounding this Owl grew deeper all the time.
“Where are the prisoners?” I asked.
“It seems that you are in the dark about many things.” Alex let out a melodic hum. “You’ll find out soon.”
A horn honked. I put the binoculars down and looked out the front window. The Gatekeeper’s limo waited at the main entry.
Alex’s voice crackled again. “Phoenix, would you please open the gate? You’ll find the switch on the control board—upper-left corner next to a small LED that should be blinking red.”
I sidled over to the board and touched a toggle switch next to a flashing bulb. With Sing in Alex’s grasp, what choice did I have? I flipped the switch. Outside, the gate dragged slowly across the entry road from left to right.
A scan of the room revealed three rifles leaning against a corner. I could try to shoot Alex from here, but the risk was too high.
Alex and Peter marched toward the portable depot, Alex carrying some kind of dark material tucked under her arm, maybe a folded garment. Peter, limping heavily, cradled a silver box, similar to the one Erin used to transport the collections sphere. His cloak flowed in the breeze, shimmering. Might Misty’s soul be in its fibers? Or had he deposited her in the sphere already?
Sing walked in front of them, her hands and feet unbound. Every few steps, Alex gave her a shove from behind, sending her stumbling until she could recover her balance.
The radio crackled once more. “Come and join us, Phoenix. I’m sure Singapore would be glad of your company.” Alex laid the garment on one of the pedestals, pushed Sing down to her knees in front of the primary one, and spoke again into her radio. “Of course you could stay there and get a better view of Singapore’s execution.”
I lifted the radio to my lips. “So you want me to come down so you can kill me, too?”
“Of course not. I have need of you. And there is still a way you can keep me from killing her.”
I met her stare. Even from fifty paces away, her Owl gaze seemed to penetrate my mind. Again, I had no choice. I had to rescue Sing and Misty. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
