by David Beers
Instead, he shook his head.
“Alright. I’m going to start making calls. We’re speaking with Waverly at noon. He wants an update on the warrants.”
Tommy nodded, and as Bench left, he went back to his computer screen. He had put all this in Christian’s hands, a twenty-five year old kid who’d never used his weapon on duty.
For the second time, he walked down to Christian’s office. He didn’t knock, but went straight to his desk. He touched the screen’s button, turning it black. Christian looked at him with a cool, even stare … as if the human behind them had been replaced with a machine running infinite calculations.
“If she doesn’t come tonight,” Tommy said, ignoring the frightening thoughts Christian’s face brought to mind, “we’re telling Bench and Waverly. I’ll give this one more night, but what we’re doing is colossally idiotic.”
Christian nodded. “She’ll come tonight.”
CHAPTER 22
L uke had to adjust the car seat, and it annoyed him to no end that this Priestess had rearranged it in the first place. He said nothing, though, as Lucy pointed a gun at him from the passenger seat.
It was one in the morning and the two of them were heading to Atlanta … to the FBI office. Lucy was extremely careful, which fit someone with her deficiencies. If your face jumped around like a cricket on a hot stove, you couldn’t afford a bunch of other mess-ups in life. You needed to be able to look at the world around you and see danger before it arrived.
Lucy was doing that well, now. Mrs. Windsor might not understand Luke’s nature, nor Veronica’s, but Lucy had no problem with it. Delusional about Christian, she might be, but not about Luke.
“If you do anything I don’t like, I’ll shoot you through the ribs,” she said as the car started.
“We’ll both die, then, as it will be pretty hard to control the vehicle with a bullet lodged in my lungs.”
“God’s on my side. You’re the only one who’ll die.”
“Fair enough,” Luke said and pulled the car from the parking lot. He didn’t shake his head as he looked around him, but was amazed at how little the world paid attention. They weren’t in as populated an area as downtown Atlanta, but this storage unit wasn’t in the middle of nowhere either. Sure, they were in the back of a five hundred unit place that appeared to be spread out over quite a number of acres, but a gas station was also a mile down the road.
Lucy, and Luke to a lesser extent, were allowed to exist because of humanity’s refusal to glance up from their phones. To simply look around the world and notice what was right in front of them. Like someone about to be crucified upside down.
“What do you think God will do with Christian?” Luke asked as the car entered the highway.
“It’s nuh-none of your concern.”
“I disagree. If I am what you say I am, I think I have a great deal of concern involved here.”
He glanced over at her. Her upper lip was twitching. She never noticed any of it, not any more than someone noticed breathing. It was simply a part of her.
“Christian is going to wipe all evil from the Earth.”
“Is he the second coming?”
“You’re a heathen.”
“Your stutter disappears when you’re focused, Lucy,” Luke said.
The girl turned her head slightly and looked out the front window, though her body and the weapon remained pointed at Luke.
“Nuh-no. He’s not the second coming. He is the person that will pave the way for Jesus’s return. The Lord won’t return if there is evil here. It’s an affront to Him.”
“Do you think Christian will take part in my crucifixion?”
“If he realizes what he is in time. If not, that’s o-okay. Now stuh-stop talking.”
Luke did as he was told for twenty minutes or so, the sound of the wheels rolling over the pavement filling the car.
“What if Christian decides you’re evil, Lucy? What if it’s you he wipes off the Earth?”
“He won’t. God won’t let him.”
Luke watched her gnaw on her lower lip as the thought he introduced wormed its way into her mind. The inherent evil her father hoisted on her as a child rearing its head, telling her she wasn’t worthy of God or the sword he’d made in Christian.
“That’s good. Because if he were to turn his righteous anger on you, there wouldn’t be much you could do, right?”
“Stuh-stuh-stop talking,” the Priestess said.
Luke drove the rest of the way in silence, having done what he needed. The highway street lights moved overhead, briefly illuminating the dark car beneath. Luke’s brown eyes never moved from the road.
Thirty minutes later, they arrived at their destination. Luke pulled the car into the parking deck, flashing his credentials at the card reader. Tomorrow, if anyone cared to look, they’d see that Luke Titan arrived at 2:01 in the morning. Luke wondered briefly what they would think.
It didn’t matter. He would define the story.
He surveyed the surroundings, but saw nothing of alarm. Christian was playing his role in this, the one that Luke had begun creating years ago. He wanted to be found now, just as Luke had a few days ago. Tommy was here, too. Unfortunate for him.
“How do we get in?” Lucy said.
“Take the elevator down then cross the street. We have to go in through the main entrance.”
“I’ll kill you before I let you do something that could get me arrested.”
“I know, Lucy. That’s not what I want, for either of us. I think that what you’re doing is going to turn into something very beautiful. I want to see it.” Luke didn’t face her as he spoke, but looked through the parking deck to the FBI building. Though far away, he could see inside Christian’s office. A light was on, and Christian sat with his eyes closed in front of his computer.
Luke’s vision was closer to that of an eagle’s than a human’s.
What’s talking to you right now, Christian? he wondered.
“Move,” the Priestess said.
Luke took her down the stairs and across the street. She walked close enough to him to hide the weapon, though Luke felt it digging in his side. He stopped on the sidewalk, just before the stairs that led to the entrance.
“No one is in the lobby, but there are cameras throughout the building. There is a single private security guard monitoring them, but most nights he dozes.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve watched him,” Luke said. He had, sometimes for hours, just standing behind the twenty-something-year-old security guard while he slept with his head on the desk. “Even so, the lights are on in the lobby and you’ll want to hide the weapon until we’re past them. The floor we’re going to will have its lights off, and the cameras won’t pick anything up; you can point it back at me, then.”
He still didn’t look to her, but he felt the gun disappear from his ribcage.
Luke used his ID card to enter the lobby.
The two moved through the lobby quickly and stepped into the elevator.
He felt the gun press against his body again.
“What’s your plan, Lucy? Are you going to use me as leverage against him, to ensure he comes with you?”
She looked forward.
“What if he’s got surveillance here, Lucy? What if he’s being watched?”
Luke waited until he saw her start chewing her lip. The girl was very quick, but Luke moved like a viper. His elbow connected with her temple, her body and the gun falling simultaneously, hitting the floor at roughly the same time.
Luke hit the button for three floors below Christian’s.
TOMMY’S EYES were closing on him. He sat in the same corner as he had the previous night, but now his head kept threatening to fall against his chest, letting sleep storm the beach of his mind.
Tommy stood up and slapped himself across the face. He looked at his watch for what felt like the millionth time. Only five minutes had passed; the night was stretching on forever, as i
f the Earth had stopped revolving.
He looked into Christian’s office from where he stood. Tommy had suggested leaving the light on inside, so that if anyone did come, their eyes would naturally be drawn there—thus making it easier for Tommy to hide.
Tommy didn’t so much see the shadow, as feel it. He moved fast, his right arm striking out, palm open, trying to slam into the nose of whoever stood next to him.
His eyes were somewhat blind, his pupils too dilated from staring at Christian’s bright office.
Someone grabbed his hand, the grip feeling like steel clamping on his bones. Tommy’s left hand shot up in a fist, but his right arm was already twisting, turning painfully and forcing the rest of Tommy’s body to turn as well.
His left fist swung hopelessly in the wrong direction. Tommy kicked behind him, even as his wrist was pinned against his back.
“CHRISTIAN!” he shouted just before he felt an infinitely strong arm wrap around his neck. He tried to pull at it with his left hand, but the attacker didn’t budge. The muscles across the bicep and forearm were brutally strong.
Finally, Tommy lost consciousness and sagged toward the ground—his assailant the only thing holding him up.
CHRISTIAN OPENED HIS EYES, the scream penetrating his mansion and breaking through the movies playing there.
He looked out of his office but saw nothing—the lights from above blinding him to whatever waited outside.
“Tommy?” he called, his voice carrying through the empty floor.
No answer returned.
She’s here.
But how did she overpower Tommy? How did she even know where he was?
It didn’t matter. Tommy wasn’t answering, so she apparently had found and disabled him.
“Come on then,” Christian said quietly.
He waited but nothing moved outside. If he wanted to turn the lights on, he would have to cross the floor, as they all sat on the other side. Which meant he had to go practically blind into the darkness.
What are you waiting for?
It wasn’t his mother that spoke, or his shrink. It was the other.
You’ve wanted her to come. She’s here. Go to her.
Christian turned halfway around, and saw himself standing there. The other versions’ hands were at his sides, covered in blood that dripped to the floor, landing quietly on the carpet.
“Go on,” the other said, a smile on his face.
Christian turned back around and walked out of the room. He turned the lights off as he moved through the doorway, pitching the whole place in blackness. He stopped walking at the first cubicle, letting his eyes adjust. He pulled his weapon from the holster. He would kill her now if he got the chance, anything to keep her away from his mother.
“I’m here. Let’s get this over with.”
“Christian, it’s me.” Luke’s voice came from the other end of the floor, and though Christian turned his head in that direction, he couldn’t pinpoint it. “She says to put the gun down. She has one pointed at me.”
Christian squinted, hoping to see something, but even though he was making out the cubicle shapes easily, he saw nothing resembling another person.
He set the gun down next to him, knowing that he was breaking protocol by doing so. What did that matter though, when this whole enterprise was a break in protocol?
“What do I do, Luke?”
“Don’t struggle.”
Christian couldn’t tell if it was Luke talking or the voice from inside his head, the whisper in his ear so close and hot, with no warning. He felt the same strong arm that Tommy had, it wrapping around his throat like a boa constrictor.
And then, he found sweet darkness, just as Tommy had.
FOR THE SECOND time since they met, Luke stood above Christian’s limp body.
The world would say it wasn’t fair, the gifts bestowed upon Luke while so many others struggled simply to get along. Of course, they didn’t understand the responsibilities that came with such talent. No one did, except for Luke. And now he had to fulfill a part of said responsibility.
He reached down and grabbed Christian’s legs, then pulled him across the floor to the other two bodies he’d collected. Jesus was a fisher of men. Luke was a collector of bodies. Was there any difference? Doesn’t a fisher use a hook and lure to capture his prey, and doesn’t he consume them once they’re dead? Luke would consume these people, too, though not their flesh.
“Alright,” he said. “Who’s first?”
CHAPTER 23
C hristian found himself on a green pasture.
A song was playing, though he saw no speakers. The song was Strange Fruit, an old one by Billie Holliday. It echoed out across the land as if a chorus of croaky angels sang from on high. Christian looked up to see if there were any mythical creatures flying above, but saw none.
Still the song continued.
Christian turned around. He saw Tommy on one side of the field and Luke on the other. He wanted to yell to them, but couldn’t. His mouth wouldn’t move, and it was then he realized he was dreaming.
He looked down at his feet and saw they were bare, and that there was blood on them. The blood was rubbing off on the blades of grass he stood on. When he looked back up, he saw his mother standing in front of him. Veronica was to her left, and behind both of them was the woman. He saw her face now, for the first time. Her hair was long and thin, parts of it messy and sticking out from the rest. Her eyebrows and lips twitched as if an electrical current ran through her skin.
“You see her because, now, you know her,” the voice said from behind Christian. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was—himself. Or the version living inside his head.
The other was right, though. He did know the woman, fully. He had learned her life the past evening, and now …
“And now it’s time to play God, isn’t it? Because God giveth and he taketh away. You’ve given her hope in life, and now it’s time to take that life.”
Christian looked to his right and saw Tommy, then to his left where Luke stood. He didn’t understand why Luke wasn’t here with these three, another victim of this girl. He also didn’t understand why his partners were so far away from each other.
Christian turned around and looked at the other. Blood dripped from the corners of his mouth and when the other started laughing, Christian saw that his mouth was full of blood; it fell down his chin, splattering on his t-shirt.
The other Christian kept laughing, though, as if the blood pouring from his mouth was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.
CHRISTIAN AWOKE, his body attempting to jerk but the binds on his legs and arms kept him from moving.
“Calm down.”
Christian didn’t move; his mind immediately categorizing the entire scene before him. Closed space. Dark. At least one person next to him. Luke’s voice.
“Where is she?” Christian asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Where are we?”
“In my trunk,” Luke said.
“Tommy?”
“No idea. I woke up here a little bit ago. I tried waking you, but you were out.”
Christian swallowed and his throat lit up with fire as he did. He let out a groan, but that only stoked the flames.
“She choke you?”
Christian just nodded, hoping that Luke would feel the motion. He didn’t want to speak again.
“Me too,” Luke said.
A minute passed in silence and then Christian managed, “We’re not moving.”
“No, we’ve been stopped since I woke.”
“My mother?”
“She’s fine.”
“Veronica?” Christian asked.
“She was unconscious, but breathing. I think she took a pretty hard beating.”
Christian’s teeth gritted together. “What is she planning?”
“She’ll crucify me upside down and make you watch. I’m sure you’ve figured out she thinks you’re basically Jesus Christ. Or,
if not him, than his harbinger.”
“Yes.”
“How did she do this?” Christian said. “Five of us. She took five of us, plus killed another two cops.”
Luke chuckled. “Maybe God is on her side. Or something close to his stature … What was your plan? You and Tommy were just going to wait for her to show up and then stop her?”
“She was supposed to take me, and Tommy was going to follow. We didn’t think she’d get the jump on both of us. Sexism, I suppose.”
Luke laughed again. “It gets the best of us all from time to time.”
Christian rolled over on his side, his body nearly in a ball. He couldn’t see anything—only darkness resided in this trunk. “We’ve got to figure out how to kill her.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“Yes. We have to,” Christian said.
“Why?”
“What the hell are you talking about? We’re lying in the back of your trunk and she kidnapped my mother. Not to mention you and your patient. Now our other partner, too.” Christian’s voice grew louder as he spoke, the rage inside threatening to spill out before it could be put to good use.
“We could capture her, Christian. She doesn’t have to die.”
Christian shook his head, not understanding what the fuck Luke was thinking. “She dies.”
“Okay.”
They lay in silence so pervasive that Christian thought he heard Luke’s lips sliding over his teeth. “Are you smiling?”
“Shh,” he said. “Here she comes.”
The trunk opened and light poured in. A woman stood above, looking like a thin ghost—one with a large bruise on the side of her head.
She held a crowbar in her right hand. She looked at Christian for a moment and then brought the crowbar up with both hands. She slammed it on top of Luke’s head, the crack echoing in the close quarters.
“Thuh-thuh-thuh-there,” she said, and then looked at Christian with the biggest smile he’d ever seen.
