Gwynn tried to focus. Thwack. Pridament’s staff deflected another thread. Up. Try looking up.
Let my gut guide me?
He tried to remember the night at the Cameron house with Sophia. He’d felt something then, hadn’t he? Some sensation had drawn him up to the attic. He tried to ignore the mental image of his head splitting like a melon and focused on the feelings in his body. A moment passed. Queasiness started. Then, the tugging. Yes, the tugging sensation in the center of his body, drawing him forward. He searched in the direction where it pulled him.
“I’ve got a ladder.” Gwynn said.
Pridament batted another thread aside. “Go.”
Gwynn dashed for the ladder. He trusted Fuyuko and Pridament were not far behind. Thwack, thwack. The threads grazed his shoulder. Warm wet travelled down his back. Gwynn reached the ladder. He turned just in time to smack several threads aside with Xanthe. Fuyuko and Pridament joined him.
“We’ll never get up this ladder without him getting us.” Fuyuko said.
The first night he’d held Xanthe, it had been born from the darkness and regret in his soul. How deep did the pain go? How far could his misery reach? How much more had just the past two days added to it? Gwynn tore into the Veil and drew more energy. “Start up the ladder. I’ll cover you.”
Fuyuko seemed ready to argue. She had no reason to have faith in him. Those she worked with had training and understood their powers. Maybe he didn’t understand it. Maybe he hadn’t received her training, but he knew his pain, sorrow and the dark places inside of him. It would reach. Gwynn channeled his energy into Xanthe. With a howl, he lashed out at the direction of the threads. Xanthe screamed through the air, its blade elongating and slithering like a serpent. It hammered into the ceiling and dust and debris filled the air.
“Go.” Gwynn bellowed.
Fuyuko and Pridament let their weapons fade back into the Veil and started up the ladder. Gwynn watched for threads. No, he wasn’t watching, he sensed them. Slash, debris. Slash, threads cut down from the air. The minutes passed like hours. He kept drawing on the Veil to power Xanthe. His arm throbbed. Gwynn hazarded a quick glance—his skin had started to scale. Too much. The Veil was starting to invade him.
“Gwynn.” Pridament called down. “Come on.”
They were up and through a hatch in the roof. One last push. Gwynn drew from the Veil and sent Xanthe skidding across the ceiling. As the debris fell, he let Xanthe fall back into the Veil and threw himself up the ladder. No hesitation, no second–guessing, he skipped several rungs at a time. A thread grazed his leg as he gulped the fresh air of the roof. The pain shocked his foot loose and he slipped.
Strong hands grabbed him under the arms and yanked him through the hatch on to the roof.
Gwynn grasped his bleeding leg. He drew on the Veil again, focused the energy to his wounded leg and shoulder. The pulsating of his blood escaping lessened and stopped. The throbbing in his arm increased. He didn’t bother looking at it. Just press on and finish the job.
Gwynn searched the area. “There.” He pointed to the center of the roof. The tear was there, though it looked larger than any he had seen before. Black, wispy tendrils stretched out from it and reached into the sky. Gwynn followed them up to where they joined with the vortex that spun with a dark hatred above.
The hatch exploded, sending Gwynn spiraling across the roof. He scrambled, reached out for Xanthe. Too late. Threads, dozens perhaps, flew toward him. Then splayed outward. Gwynn looked behind to see Pridament with his staff in the ground, intensity in his face.
“Shield.” Pridament said. “I’ve got this, close that tear.”
Fuyuko grabbed Gwynn by the shoulder, hauling him to his feet. “Hurry.”
The two ran for the tear. Metal striking metal from behind them signaled Pridament engaging the Anunnakis.
After running what seemed the longest marathon in his life, Gwynn reached the tear. He reached out with his right arm and let his fingers brush the surface. Ice ran up his arm and pain shot through his chest. His breaths came in ragged heaves.
“It’s rejecting you.” Fuyuko said. “Push back Gwynn. Remember, your mind over its matter. You are in control. You have the keys.”
Gwynn imagined himself pushing on a door. Someone, or something, on the other side pushed back. He envisioned drawing strength from the Veil, pushing harder against the door. Back and forth, a battle of wills.
“She believed in me.” Gwynn said. “If only because of that, I’ll never give up.”
He kept pressing until the other side gave. Seizing the opportunity, he slammed the door shut and locked it for good measure.
Gwynn stumbled back. The tear closed. The tendrils that had fed the vortex faded and fell away.
A high–pitched screech pierced the air—inhuman, terrifying. The man–creature bore down on him. Fuyuko tried to stop it with her spear, but it swatted her aside. Gwynn rolled away from the creature’s onslaught. He called Xanthe, pulling the sword from the Veil just in time to block bladed arms.
The thing hissed at Gwynn and its mandibles began to work. Holding the deadly arms back left Gwynn pinned. Any moment, it would spit threads at him. He was helpless.
Two thin blades tore upward through the creature’s torso. Its arms went slack against Xanthe. The person behind it lifted and tossed the body aside.
“Told him,” Pridament puffed. “I wasn’t through with him. It feels different up here. Did you close the tear?”
Gwynn nodded. “Thanks.”
Fuyuko joined the two of them. “Do we need to climb down now?”
“Afraid so.” Pridament replied. “Might as well get to it.”
One ladder and a warehouse length later, they stood on the ground outside.
“We still have one more?” Fuyuko asked.
Gwynn nodded. It was almost too painful to think they had to do this again.
Two black helicopters screamed overhead. They turned and spun around, moving in closer and slower. Wind picked up and whipped the ground as they set down on the road in front of the warehouse.
“Is this trouble?” Gwynn asked.
“Maybe.” Pridament’s tone sounded grim. “It’s Suture.”
23/ The Family He Never Knew
A number of black clad individuals jumped from the helicopter’s open doors. Their uniforms reminded Gwynn of a SWAT team.
Several ran past Gwynn, Fuyuko and Pridament, and went into the warehouse. Three approached. The one in the center was huge, six–foot–five at least and built like a linebacker. He removed his helmet. Fuyuko gasped.
“Paltar, sir.” She snapped to attention.
“Fuyuko, report.”
“Sir?”
“Just what is going on here, Fuyuko? We received report of a vortex, and as we approach to close one of the feeder tears, it collapses. What are you doing here? Who closed the tear?”
“I’m here following the orders I was given, sir. I’ve been assisting this boy, Gwynn. He closed the tear sir.”
Paltar regarded Gwynn with the same disdain he’d give a cockroach. “Him? A Script?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Who are you affiliated with young man?”
“Excuse me?” What did this guy mean?
“Which branch of Suture do you work for?”
“Me? None.”
Gwynn hadn’t thought it possible, but Paltar took on an even greater air of disgust. “Humph, a free agent? That won’t do. And who are you?” He asked Pridament.
“In another world, you would have called me brother.” Pridament said.
Paltar inspected Pridament. A brief bit of surprise passed over his face. “The brother you claim to be is dead.” Paltar straightened, his eyes angry. “You’re nothing but an impostor. Get these two out of my sight.”
“What?” Gwynn exclaimed. A hand gripped his shoulder.
“Gwynn, don’t.” Pridament said.
“After everything we’ve been through, after everythin
g we’ve done, they’re just—”
“Enough.” Paltar’s tone ended Gwynn’s protests. “I will not have some amateur and an off–worlder getting in the way of my operation. The professionals are here boy. Leave this to us. Fuyuko.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Go with them. You’re relieved of duty until this mess is sorted out and I have a full report.”
Fuyuko wanted to protest, but bit her lip.
The two Suture members that flanked Paltar stepped forward and stood guard over Gwynn, Fuyuko & Pridament until a van pulled up. They were ushered into the vehicle and encouraged to remain silent.
Minutes passed and they pulled up to a hotel. The agents swept them into a back door and into a service elevator that whisked them to the top floor.
“You two, wait in here.”
The Suture members shoved Pridament and Gwynn through a door. Nausea swept over Gwynn and he swallowed back some sick.
“Prometheus circle.” Pridament said as way of explanation.
Gwynn inspected the room but couldn’t see any sign of the black boxes or wires.
“They wouldn’t lock two Anunnakis in a room without inhibiting their powers. We’d just fold our way out, or fight.” Pridament said the last bit with a slight smile.
Gwynn went to the washroom and splashed water on his face. When he came back, Pridament had claimed one of the beds.
“I just don’t get why you didn’t do more. I mean, you just let them cart us off to this place. Is that guy really your brother?”
Pridament sighed. “First off, yes, he is my half–brother. Which makes him your uncle. Second, since he is my brother, I knew there was no point in fighting with him. In fact, if I had pushed him any harder, we would be in even bigger trouble. They’re the ones who do this for a living, Gwynn. Just relax and let them use their training.”
“My uncle. I go from only Jaimie to having a father from another world and now a wrestler–sized uncle. Do I have any other relatives I don’t know about?”
“A number.” Pridament sounded bitter. “For instance, your grandfather happens to be the head of Suture.”
“Which Suture?” Gwynn thought of the question Paltar had asked him. “My uncle,” he tested the word. It felt strange. “Made it sound like there was more than one.”
Pridament swung his legs around so that he sat on the side of the bed. He looked at Gwynn long and hard. “There is one Suture, but it has several branches. Their major locations are in North America, South America, Greece and Egypt. Each branch has a religious pantheon as its base. Egypt and Greece should be self–explanatory. Same with South America. Here in North America, it’s the Norse.”
“Norse religious pantheon? What?”
“You know, Odin, Thor and the like.”
“I’m lost.”
Pridament rubbed the bridge of his nose and up into his tear ducts. “Remember how I said throughout time, Anunnakis have sometimes been seen as gods? And the various pantheons, such as the Olympians and Egyptian gods, were Anunnakis that grouped together?”
Gwynn nodded. So much had happened, but he had a vague recollection of the discussion.
“Wherever they were worshipped, they remained. When Suture was created, it formed a blanket organization for the different factions to unite under.”
“So my grandfather runs it all?”
“I suppose you could say that.”
“Where is he?” Then a bigger question occurred to Gwynn. “Who is he?”
Pridament hmphed. “Last I heard, he was somewhere on this continent. Who is he? Well, let’s just say the Norse pantheon claimed North America as the Vikings were here first.”
Gwynn shook his head. “Please tell me you aren’t just forgetting the Native North Americans.”
“I’m not. But their religious pantheon didn’t include Anunnakis. Those who were born with powers among their people became shamans, religious leaders and chiefs. They didn’t seek to be gods. They just wanted to make life better for their people. Therefore, this area remained unclaimed by an Anunnaki pantheon. It boiled down to the fact that the Vikings brought that here first.”
“Norse. So my grandfather is… No. Really?”
“The All–Father himself.”
“So who does that make you?” Gwynn asked.
Pridament flopped back on the bed with a sigh. “No one. Just an unwanted, bastard child.”
“Is that who Mr. Murray was working for? Is that who he was taking Sophia to?”
Pridament shook his head. “I don’t know. I think Justinian had gone rogue and was working for himself. He was able to get Suture to send Fuyuko here, so they sanctioned part of what he was doing. I have no idea how deep their involvement went.”
“This is insane.”
“Kid, you don’t know the half of it. Lie down and get some rest. I think it’s going to be a long night.”
§
Paltar grew impatient.
“Jason, tell me again, there’s still a vortex over our head?”
“Yes, sir.”
Jason was the Ansuz team’s Script. He was younger, much younger, than Paltar and had been with Suture since he turned six. Under Paltar’s tutoring, he had grown into a man. And now took his first awkward steps of love with Fuyuko. Paltar chuckled at how Jason and Fuyuko tried so hard to hide their feelings from everyone. First love, full of secrets and joy. It reminded Paltar of his own past. Loves gone too long ago. Youth and the powers of a Script. It was difficult not to harbor some resentment. As a Script, the boy could see the phantoms that Paltar fought based on faith alone.
The returning group of the Ansuz team disturbed Paltar’s reverie.
“Sir, we’ve done a full sweep of the warehouse. There’s a body on the roof. We believe it belongs to the Anunnaki who held the tear open at this location. There’s no one else in the building and there doesn’t appear to be any contamination from the tear.”
“Good.” Paltar called up to the front of the helicopter. “Call the Ehwaz unit. Tell them this location is secure. All they have to do is some clean up. We’re moving on to the next location with the Purisaz team. Jason.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re navigating up front.”
Paltar hopped back into the chopper. When his team had all boarded, he swung the door shut and the helicopter lifted into the air.
There were too many questions. How could Justinian have been here so long and be ignorant of the world killer above his head? Why had no one at Suture detected it earlier?
For the past two weeks the Ansuz team had seen home for just a hand full of hours. They’d seen dispatches to every corner of the continent to combat tears and Curses. Maybe a third of those had been important situations. It felt wrong.
“We’re here.” Jason called from the front.
Paltar looked out the window. “Really?”
“Yes, sir.”
Paltar sighed. A high–rise office building in the middle of the city. It was going to be a long night.
“Can you see the tear Jason?”
“No. We’ve passed over a few times. I can see the tendrils feeding the vortex, but it looks like it’s coming from inside the building.”
“Roof access?”
The pilot spoke up. “There might be a hatch, but I wouldn’t set this thing down on that roof. It’s not likely to be reinforced enough to handle the weight.”
“Repelling lines?”
An awkward silence. “Not packed sir.” The pilot finally said.
“Fine.” Paltar fumed. This operation was a complete mess. “Set us down at the closest entry point.”
The aircraft jostled and settled. Paltar opened the door. The second chopper had landed as well and disgorged its occupants.
“What’s the plan, brother?” Hodur asked.
Hodur. Not the strongest of his brethren, nor the most talented in a fight. But he compensated for that with his steadiness and dependability. While he expected some of his brothers
to crash into a battle with reckless abandon, Paltar could always count on Hodur to be at his back.
“We’ll send our point men in first. Considering the warehouse Intel I received, it looks like the Fallen are employing Anunnakis to hold these tears open. I don’t need to tell you how dangerous that makes them.”
“No, I remember that feral one the South American branch called us in to help with. Nasty bastard.” Hodur shuddered.
“My other concern is if this area’s been tainted. By the father’s name, right in the middle of the city. And yet…”
Hodur gave the area a once–over. “This place is deserted.”
“Precisely. The middle of town. Where is everyone?”
Hodur slapped Paltar on the shoulder. “Consider it a blessing, brother. Can you imagine the number of Taints we might come across otherwise? I look at a deserted area and all I see is that our job just got easier.”
Paltar gave his brother a smile. When his other siblings asked why he always brought Hodur, he tried to articulate to them the various reasons. He always mentioned the man’s ability to see the positives.
Paltar assembled the Ansuz team. They were composed of kids. Such young faces. His appearance was youthful too, but he had long lost the ability to see it. Too many years. Too many battles. Some of his family, and those that they had adopted over the years, seemed to thrive on it. But Paltar would’ve been content to leave it behind. These young men and women around him, he had trained every one. Just like Jason, he’d watched them pass through their childhood into adolescence and into the early years of adult life. And on an increasing number of occasions, he sent them into situations that could end their short life. It wasn’t a fair existence.
“Brandt and Caelum, you two are on point; weapons out, all eyes. We haven’t been subtle about our presence; there’s no point. With the collapse of the other tear, they’re aware we’re after them.”
“Respectfully. Sir, why not just hit the building balls out.” Brandt said.
A typical Brandt suggestion. The kid was a hot head, one of the ones who thrived on chaos. If the boy had his way, the choppers would be equipped with full armaments and they’d leave every location they visited a smoldering crater.
Harbinger (The Bleeding Worlds) Page 19
