03 Saints

by Lynnie Purcell

  I’ll do what I can, I promised the Nightstalker. Give me some time to think of something.

  Time is all we have… it thought at me, before it moved away from my hand.

  It turned and padded back to his cell. The others went to theirs and silently waited for me to shut their cell doors again. Low growling started to circle my prison, but I knew they were doing it to hide our planning and keep curious ears from following the unusual silence. It was curiously deceptive.

  I sat down in what light the grate above me offered and started thinking hard about escape. It was the first time in over a month my brain was tasked with something beyond survival. It took a while for everything to get back to full speed, and even though I doubted the stability of ‘full speed’ I was full of purpose.

  Plans based in surprise, stealth and danger circled my head. I finally settled on surprise; it felt like my best ally. Master Limp would never expect tame Nightstalkers.

  I got up and paced the room, daring to pace outside of the circle of light with my increased familiarity of the Nightstalkers. They suddenly weren’t the terrifying death-dealers I had thought them to be. It occurred to me several times during my planning that the Nightstalkers could be in on a ploy to further break my spirit, but I knew the Watchers here didn’t treat Nightstalkers as creatures worthy of plans. They were beasts. They were entertainment.

  My eyes roamed the room as I paced. I searched for an answer to our escape; an escape I planned on making Master Limp instrumental to. I wanted revenge – using Master Limp to secure my escape seemed like a fitting way to take out my vengeance. A timid hope circled through my body as I plotted. Was it possible there was a way out of this hell? Was it possible I had found the impossible?

  For the first time in a long time, I had hope.

  Chapter 3

  The plan was fairly simple.

  It had to be simple for reasons of necessity. I wasn’t the only one weakened by my time in the pit. The Nightstalkers were never let out; they were just given easy prey to kill. Though their murderous nature was irrepressible, part of them had suffered from being locked away for so long. They were tired. They were broken. The only thing we really had to depend on was our mutual, overwhelming desire to not be imprisoned any longer.

  I had to wait two more days for Master Limp to come see me again. It was a long two days. I didn’t rest – I didn’t allow myself the luxury of searching out Daniel in my dreams. I remained focused on the present.

  When Master Limp finally showed up again, I could tell by the way he opened the grate I was in for another beating. I had learned to see them coming. His happy expression and the cold fire in his eyes was clue enough. It meant he was coming down instead of controlling things from up above.

  I eyed my ally. The Nightstalker lifted its lips in a dangerous canine smile, to show me it was ready for action. Its red eyes were full of alert energy. I repressed the urge to shudder and focused on Master Limp’s descent.

  He maintained the same routine every time he came down. His injured leg didn’t allow for the same strength of other Watchers, so he was forced climb down a set of rope stairs, instead of jumping down into the hole. Whenever he climbed down, he had one of his flunkies keep watch from above, to pull him up in case something went wrong. My escape would be a matter of timing; I would have to make it to the top of the stairs, before they were pulled back by the flunky.

  I stood and started backing away toward the levers.

  Mister Limp’s face turned smug when he noticed my retreat. It was the first time I had retreated from his attack.

  “Have we finally put fear into you?” he asked.

  “Please don’t hit me anymore!” I said mustering all the fake fear I could manage. It sounded ridiculous to me, but I was certain he would never know the difference.

  “This is progress!” he exclaimed. “Very good! But I’m afraid I can’t stop just because you want me to. We have to be sure of you. It’s a matter of doing something right.”

  “Please!” I said continuing to back away from him.

  “Come now, it’ll be over soon,” Master Limp said.

  I reached the levers. “I know…”

  My body tensed, and my whole spirit focused on this one attempt at freedom. This was the moment I had been waiting for, since Anna had taken me. It would be freedom or death, and I was determined to not die.

  As soon as his foot touched the dirt floor of the pit, I turned around and pushed down all of the levers at once. The doors holding back the Nightstalkers opened. They were out of the cells, before Master Limp could get a handle on what I had done. The first Nightstalker tore into him, tearing him away from the rope ladder and in to the darker part of the pit. Master Limp’s startled yelp was consumed by the sounds of growling and snarling from the Nightstalkers. I hurried to the ladder, before they had finished dragging him away. The Nightstalkers made space for me, and a couple of tried to help boost me up with their snouts as I climbed.

  The person at the top of the pit had either grown bored with their duties as rope manager, or was exceptionally indifferent to Master Limp’s fate. As I pulled myself out of the pit, I saw a young man with brown hair staring back at me. He was startled to see me, but he didn’t try to attack me either.

  “You have two choices,” I told him as I placed my feet on the floor. “Run away or I will throw you down there with your master.”

  “Is he dead?” the man asked.

  Master Limp screamed out one last time as the Nightstalkers ripped him apart. His scream was cut short. I peeked down and saw the Nightstalkers finish Master Limp, dragging parts of him in different directions.

  “Very,” I replied.

  “Thank, God,” the man said. “I was about to lose my mind.”

  “I’m sure,” I said not interested in his excuses.” Where are the levers for the doors down there?”

  “Here.” He pointed to some levers along the wall.

  “I would start the running away part now,” I told him.

  I went to the levers and pushed them all down, trusting that one of them would open the doors I needed. I was at the last lever when I sensed the man pull a knife out from his boot. It was more a shift in the air, rather than any supernatural moment. I turned at the feeling. The knife was long and silver, gleaming in the light from above. The man smiled at me, as if he thought he had won something from me.

  “Thanks for getting rid of him,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for a promotion. Unfortunately, I don’t want you to take my spot, either.”

  “I don’t have time for you,” I told him.

  Without waiting for him to attack, I kicked him in the gut. It wasn’t a hard kick, but it was enough to offset his balance. He stumbled back and fell into the pit. His screams and the sounds of him trying to fend of the Nightstalkers filled the air. His screams didn’t last long.

  A part of me flinched away from the idea I had caused his death, but another part was more interested in doing whatever it took to escape. I took a deep breath, and very carefully put away the emotions tying me down. I would look at them later, when I had the luxury to do so. Right now, I had Nightstalkers waiting for me to lead them to freedom. I climbed back down and paused long enough at the second man’s body to grab his silver knife.

  The knife in hand, I followed the lead Nightstalker out of the pit and in to the darkness beyond. The Nightstalkers surrounded me as we left our prison behind. They provided a buffer against the several brief, but deadly, encounters we had in the hall. When the hall opened up to the large room they had tattooed my foot in, the Nightstalkers paused as one. The Nightstalker in front sniffed the air, and its ears pricked up. A low growl started from the others. I put a hand on its snout to find out what the problem was.

  What’s wrong? I asked.

  Do you not hear it?

  I strained to hear what he heard. I heard the normal sounds of screams, which wasn’t unusual down here, the sound of water dripping constantly, the sound o
f people moving and shifting in their cells, and then…

  BOOM!!!

  I jumped as the explosion sent dirt cascading down onto my head.

  There is a fight. We must hurry.

  The Nightstalker started forward; its toes took huge chunks out of the dirt floor as it started forward. As we ran, I saw others in the free-standing jails, their eyes terrified at seeing the Nightstalkers free. From the way I could hear their thoughts, I knew they were human. From their terror, I knew they assumed the Nightstalkers had come for them. There was too much terror to bear. I couldn’t just leave them to the fate I was trying to escape. It was wrong. To not help them was hypocritical. I left the safety of the Nightstalkers and went to the first cell.

  The rest of the Nightstalkers pulled ahead, not seeing the people around them as worthy enough to save. They were more concerned with freedom. I didn’t blame them; most of their humanity had been lost with the change. Too, self-preservation would have been on any other human’s mind had they not been as stupid as I was.

  The first Nightstalker noticed me leave the pack, however, and turned around, letting the rest run ahead. It approached me as I tried to use the knife I had taken to pick the lock. It whined once in a question. I sensed it hearing more than I did from the fight. It was obvious we were running out of time.

  “I can’t just leave these people here. They have the right to choose if they want freedom or if they want to stay here. Just like you do.”

  The Nightstalker thought over my words for a moment then moved closer. I flinched away automatically, but it wasn’t trying to attack me. With one huge swipe of its paw, it knocked away the lock. I looked at the creature in surprise, and it lowered its head for me to touch again.

  I will help. But we must hurry. The fight outside is getting closer.

  Thank you.

  It moved away and knocked the rest of the locks free. The people inside the cells hesitated, eyeing my Nightstalker friend in fear.

  “Run!” I yelled, to get them thinking along logical lines.

  Fearing the thought of torture more than they feared the Nightstalker, they decided the risk was worth it. They started piling out through the narrow doors of their cells, pushing each other out of the way as they fought for freedom. I turned to head in the direction of the cells the Watchers were kept in, but the Nightstalker’s body language changed. It growled, and its lips pulled back over its gleaming teeth. Acid started to fall to the ground. I stepped away from it, thinking this change was directed at me. But it wasn’t. It was directed at something far worse.

  “Are my little birdies trying to fly free?”

  I spun around and saw Mama Dot step out from the hall. Her normally perfect hair was a mess, her clothes not as pristine as previous encounters. She had fought someone, though I wasn’t sure who. My heart full of hatred for her, I gripped the knife in my hand with more purpose.

  “If you leave now, I promise I won’t kill you,” I said.

  Mama Dot laughed. “Oh, come now. You couldn’t hurt me. If you had it in you, you would have already killed me. The truly murderous find a way…they always find a way.”

  The Nightstalker shifted its weight, and I felt it preparing for a fight. Though one of the truly murderous, I wasn’t sure if it would win. I knew there was a risk it would fail. Mama Dot’s talent was too strong. I had made a promise to this creature; a promise I intended to keep. No matter the dark history of the Nightstalker, we were allies in this. I had an obligation to fulfill my end of the bargain. If it died, I would have failed my promise.

  The part of me that had grown cold responded before the more emotional part of me could. I threw the knife straight at Mama Dot’s heart without bothering to warn her again. She hadn’t taken me serious; that was her problem, not mine.

  She stared at the knife in her heart for a moment then collapsed to her knees with a startled expression on her normally serene face. I went to her and pulled the knife out of her chest.

  “You shouldn’t underestimate me,” I said.

  She collapsed sideways with a sigh.

  I fought the emotions for a brief second, feeling shocked I had killed again so casually, but then I focused on what we were doing; the cold purpose steeled my heart against the pain. Escape was still priority number one. Escape didn’t care if my death count had just grown.

  Another shockwave from an explosion rocked the building in emphasis of the thought. My Nightstalker had enough of my heroism – it was obviously ready to be free. Without warning, it grabbed the back of my much-abused shirt with its teeth, fresh burns appearing in the fabric, and placed me on to its back. Its sharp scales cut into my skin along my thighs and hands, but I didn’t have time to worry about the pain, because in the next moment we were running.

  We barreled through any obstacle in our way, crushing our enemies as easily as a forepaw into the chest or a crunch of the Nightstalker’s massive jaws. It was easy to forget the people it killed were people; they were simply a blur of color and sound. We ran through the maze of cells, until we reached the long staircase that had started my adventure down here. The stairs were full of people running up, trying to force their way out of the door. They bottlenecked on the stairs. The way out had been blocked from the outside.

  “Out of the way!” I yelled at the panicking people.

  The pressed their bodies against the wall, gaping at me in astonishment and my strange mode of transportation. The Nightstalker didn’t even slow down at the sight of the rubble blocking the door. Running full speed, it took out the rubble blocking the door, as well as a good chunk of the wall.

  I breathed in the salty air of the outside as the people poured out from the prison behind me. I reveled at the smell of fresh air and open spaces. It was night, the full moon hanging distant on the horizon. The moon was partially obscured with clouds, but its position told me it was very late. The light streaming down from its full glory was nothing compared to the light of various fires dotting the landscape. They were everywhere. The main house had fires peppering the large structure, while another fire burned near a garage. The cars inside had blown up from the flames. I took that to be the cause of the first ‘boom’ we had heard.

  Watchers ran around the yard, searching for a better defensive position. No one seemed really sure where the fighting was coming from. Some carried swords, others carried automatic weapons. I didn’t see any Watchers involved in hand-to-hand combat, or any sign beyond the fires that there was an enemy force nearby. There was lots of yelling going on and very little real direction.

  When we appeared, the ones with guns started firing, directing their aggression to us – the only real threat in the yard. The Nightstalker started running faster, tearing through anyone stupid enough to get in its way. I kept my head down and tried to avoid the bullets. Under the sudden deluge of flying bullets, dodging them all was impossible.

  Another explosion rocked the night. As soon as the explosion sounded, I half turned to stare at the fireball. The turn saved my life. A second after the explosion, I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder, as one of the Watchers near us got lucky with their shooting. The bullet tore me away from the Nightstalker I was riding on. I hit the ground hard and rolled. The pain in my shoulder hurt more than any of Master Limp’s beatings.

  I sat up in a daze, holding my shoulder, and saw Lorian’s Watchers running toward me. The Nightstalker had disappeared into the night, its bid at freedom complete. I didn’t blame it for running, or for leaving me to the others. Our partnership had ended with the free air we had found. Besides, it had already helped me free the prisoners. That was enough.

  I recognized where I was in a glance. The ocean was to my left, the house to my right. The ocean was a pretty far drop, but if the Watchers reached me, I was either dead or doomed to live in the prison forever. Jumping felt pretty enticing from where I was sitting.

  The pain in my shoulder trying to drag me under, I did the only thing that made sense at the time. I took advantage of
my adrenaline, found my feet, and jumped toward the sound of waves below. As I fell, I thought I saw a strange light on the waves. It was a sharp light that moved in time to the rocking ocean. But my brain couldn’t reconcile what the light meant; I was too concerned with where I was headed.

  The water rushed toward me.

  I hit the dark water feet first; it felt as if I had crashed into a brick wall. The second I hit the water, everything went dark. My last thought was how I had never thought I would die in the Pacific Ocean; an ocean I loved so much.

  The next thing I was aware of was a soft bed, an extreme pain in my shoulder, and the moon shining bright through a window near me. I opened my eyes and saw a plain white ceiling above me. It was so different from the underground ceiling I had grown accustomed to. I moved my arm to touch my forehead, a blinding headache pulsing through my head, and realized I was hooked up to a bag of fluids.

  “Oh…” I said, realizing I hadn’t died. Then I passed out again.

  I woke up two more times, only to promptly pass out again. Once, I saw a girl sitting in a chair near my bed. She had dark features and jagged hair. Purple streaks ran through her black hair. She was full of piercings, her ears, her nose, her eyebrow, were all pierced. She was dressed in black leather. She looked like a biker, complete with heavy motorcycle boots she had propped up on my bed as she read from a book. She smiled when she saw me awake, but we didn’t get the chance to speak. I passed out again. The second time I woke, I was alone again. The room was bright with sunlight, but deserted. I tried to force myself to get up, to find out where I was, but I passed again before I could.

  The third time I woke up, it was dark again. I took a deep breath as I blinked myself awake, feeling more awake than my other attempts at consciousness. I stared at the bland ceiling for a long moment, trying to get a fix on my disorientation, the pain, anything that would help me focus. It seemed so very hard to focus.