The Gathering

by Michael Timmins

  Kestrel insisted they go out anyway. There was nothing they could do about being hunted. Well, nothing but hide, and Kestrel wasn’t the hiding sort.

  “Perhaps,” she had said, “if more attempts to capture or kill us end like the last time, they will stop trying.”

  Kestrel still didn’t understand what kind of world she had awoken in. They wouldn’t give up, Shae knew, they would bring bigger guns.

  Shae decided to take Kestrel’s attitude, at least for today, and take advantage of a chance to do something normal, before everything went to shit. So, off to the mall they had gone.

  Kestrel, of course, had gone dressed to the nines. A long, flowing black dress this time, made from sort of material which seemed to stretch, and yet cling to her every curve.

  Needless to say, they drew a lot of stares.

  Shae took this opportunity to get Kestrel into clothes more appropriate for, well, life. It took some doing, but in the end, she managed to get the woman into some jeans and a t-shirt.

  As much as she tried not to, Shae couldn’t help but find herself laughing at Kestrel’s awkwardness when it came to trying on normal clothes.

  The first time Shae had laughed when Kestrel’s face took on a look of childlike glee after putting on her first pair of sneakers; she had stifled it immediately. She had been afraid to have offended the volatile woman, but instead, Kestrel had broken into a huge smile, laughed, and strutted around for a moment in a skin-tight black dress and tennis shoes.

  It had gone on like that for much of the day. They had tried on hundreds of clothes. Jeans, skirts, blouses, sundresses and short shorts. Everything Kestrel tried on, she had looked amazing in. Shae couldn’t help but feel jealous.

  The only thing which made seeing the woman shine in every outfit she tried on from stinging too much, was her awe at wearing all these new clothes. The genuine pleasure the woman experienced, and shared with Shae was infectious, and Shae found she truly enjoyed herself.

  “I never had a sister, or even,” Kestrel shrugged, “a daughter before.”

  They sat in the mall’s food court. Shae had opted for chicken nuggets, which Kestrel had frowned at, but said nothing. Kestrel ate a salad. Of course, she did.

  “Most of my life has been in pursuit of one thing or another. First, the mastery of my druidess skills, and then, trying to stop the devastation of civilization on nature.

  “My parents sent me away when I was very young.” Kestrel’s face went slack, all visual signs of emotion, gone. Shae had come to recognize this as her look of sadness. Regret, even. “If my parents had more children, I never knew.”

  She tapped her plastic fork on the container for her salad, causing a strange sounding clicking noise.

  “By the time I reached childbearing age. Well,” she proffered a sad smile, “I was in a middle of a war, and not much longer for that world.”

  Her smile brightened. “The point is. With you, Shae, I feel I have found something I had been missing but had never realized it had been absent.

  She cocked her head. “Does that make sense?”

  “It does,” Shae replied. And it did. Shae felt much the same way. She had been close to Anne, at least before the coming of George, and this felt like that. But different. She felt a kinship to Kestrel she had never felt toward Anne. Perhaps it was an age thing? Kestrel, despite her apparent maturity, had ‘only seen twenty-two season changes’ as she liked to call years.

  They shared a smile.

  Shae’s lips made a straight line as she drew them in together. “Are you planning on fucking him?”

  Kestrel’s eyes widened and she glanced around to see if anyone had heard. Some of this time’s propriety was starting to rub off on her it seemed.

  “Who?” she answered coyly, bring her cup of ice water to her lips, drinking it while peering over the cup at Shae.

  Shae tilted her head and gave Kestrel a withering look.

  “Oh please. You know who!”

  Kestrel lowered her cup and eyed Shae. She appeared to be assessing Shae. Weighing her and her response.

  Whatever she had seen, decided her and she shrugged.

  “I am not sure yet. I don’t believe I will need to.”

  That statement shocked Shae. Need to? For Kestrel, it wasn’t about whether she wanted to or not. It was a question of necessity. Kestrel used sex to manipulate people. To get what she wanted. Shae wondered if she had ever been in love.

  Kestrel appeared to have noticed her distress.

  “Shae. You must understand something. The war I will be waging is more important than anything. It is about saving this planet. It is about saving the creatures on this planet, and by doing so, saving mankind from itself. If we do not set things right, and soon, the world will spiral further and further into unsustainability.

  “In the face of that, I must use everything I have. All my abilities, my body if necessary, to succeed. There is nothing I won’t do to save this world.”

  Kestrel’s eyebrows rose, and her forehead furrowed. “Do you understand?”

  Shae wasn’t sure she did. She had never cared about anything so passionately to be willing to do anything for it. She examined her food and frowned. That wasn’t entirely true. She would do anything to remain free. To never be trapped again. Captured. She would use her body, if she had to, as long as she could remain free.

  She peered up and met Kestrel’s eyes and nodded. Kestrel held her gaze for a long moment, seemed satisfied Shae did truly understand and gave her a curt nod.

  Shae decided to change the subject.

  “What happens now? What do you intend for me?”

  For a while Kestrel didn’t answer. Instead, she took several bites of her salad, and Shae waited, eating some chicken nuggets. She would be patient. She would. Kestrel would tell her when she was ready. Shae knew she would.

  Kestrel grabbed a napkin and dabbed her lips to mop up any dressing which might have escaped her mouth, though Shae knew she never would allow that. She was too perfect of an eater.

  “What happens now? Many things. As we speak, Blain, Gordon, and Taylor are on their way here. Though,” she offered a devious smile, “they will be making a few detours on the way down.”

  Shae waited for Kestrel to elaborate, but she didn’t.

  “We will meet again with Zach and organize a meeting with his followers, where, if all goes well, we will have thousands of volunteers to join our cause, and our army.”

  “Do you really believe you will get that many?”

  Kestrel stared off to her right and tapped a finger to her pursed lips several times before looking back at Shae.

  “Yes. I believe we will. Zach is all but worshipped by his followers. They view him as their hero.” She shook her head ruefully. “With his help, and my hopefully persuasive speech, we will have many volunteers.”

  Shae wasn’t so confident. What Kestrel would be asking of people was essentially for them to give up everything they were. To give it all up and become a monster. A powerful monster, to be sure, but a monster. Their families, their loved ones, their jobs . . . all of it would be lost. It was a lot to ask. Too much, if you asked Shae. She didn’t voice her doubts to Kestrel though. She was pretty sure she didn’t need to.

  “And me?”

  Kestrel smiled warmly.

  “For now, I would just like the pleasure of your company. Do you believe that is a task you are capable of?”

  Shae eyed Kestrel for some sign this truly wasn’t, too good to be true. Could she truly have found someone to be friends with? After everything she had endured? After everyone she had ever loved abandoned her? What she saw in Kestrel’s eyes was true kindness, though. Genuine warmth and an earnestness.

  “Nothing would make me happier,” Shae responded, and she found, she truly believed it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Elias Tepper had started this day like any other day. He woke to the soothing sounds of a rainforest leisurely escalating in volume in order
to draw him gently out of sleep at 5:03 A.M. He had left the alarm at 5:03, mainly because he didn’t wish to click past the fifty-seven other numbers in order to set it for 5 precisely. Sure, he could hold the button down so the numbers would fly by more quickly, but that was precisely what had created this problem to start with.

  So, at 5:03 A.M. Elias climbed out of bed and into the shower. His morning routine had differed only slightly for the past decade or so. He occasionally watched the news a bit in bed before getting into the shower or checking his e-mails from his laptop in bed, but not much alteration beyond that. Wake up. Shower. Get dressed. Eat breakfast while watching the news or checking his e-mails, and then off to work.

  Elias worked at Yulchik Petroleum, a Russian-owned oil company with a growing bottom line and goals to make it grow more. They had opened this refinery in northeastern Texas a little over ten years ago and had hired Elias right out of college with a chemical engineering degree and a mountain of debt.

  The first thing Yulchik did, and why Elias would almost certainly work for them until he died, was pay off his school loan. Sure, he had to sign a contract to work for them for the next five years and considering how much they were willing to pay and the benefits, it was a no-brainer.

  He had signed the contract and hadn’t looked back. Now over a decade later he lived his best life. He had been promoted to chief engineer three years ago and had over a dozen employees beneath him.

  Two days a week, he worked from home via a satellite program allowing him to monitor different projects which were being implemented at any given time. Usually, today would be one of those days he would work from home, but the company’s president from Russia was in town, and it was ‘all hands on deck’. They needed to make a decent impression.

  Elias put on his best suit and took the long drive out to the refinery. Placed a good distance from any major metropolitan area, the refinery was a bit of a drive for him, but the traffic was non-existent. It was much better than trying to fight the morning rush hour trying to get to work downtown, in his opinion.

  The morning was warm, not hot . . . yet. It would get hot, in a few hours, but blessedly, Elias would be ensconced in his air-conditioned office. The tech area was kept cool, but down by the CDU and the other processing equipment, the heat would be unbearable.

  When he pulled up to the security gate, Ryan who manned the booth, stepped out to great Elias.

  “Good morning, Elias. Aren’t you supposed to be off today?”

  Elias grimaced.

  “Yeah, but the president of the company is supposed to be here today —”

  “He already is.”

  “What? Shit. I hoped to be in the office already to make sure everything looked good for his walkthrough.”

  Ryan nodded in understanding.

  “Yeah, you aren’t the first one to utter a few curses upon hearing he was already here. He and his entourage came in at 4 A.M. You know, time differences and what not.”

  Elias grimaced.

  “Well, I better hurry in. Salvage the situation as best as I can. I keep a pretty tight ship, so everything should be in order already. Just wanted to make sure.”

  “Well, hope it all turns out fine for you, Elias. Have a good day.”

  Ryan stepped back, reached into the guard booth and opened the gate.

  “You too, Ryan.”

  Elias drove through the gate and parked.

  Walking fast, as he was decidedly not running — he wasn’t! He quickly entered the building housing the offices of management and engineering, the first building inside the sprawling complex of the refinery which covered over ten acres of land.

  By the time he reached his actual office he had been relieved to hear from most of the others the president had been in meetings all morning with upper management and as of yet, had not made any rounds through the offices.

  His first order of business when he got to his office was to make sure his personal office was in order. Taking a few moments to address the memos in his inbox, he would straighten his desk and do his best to declutter it.

  He liked his little office. It sat on the east side of the building on the third floor. He had a large expanse of windows overlooking the parking lot, which meant he got the full exposure of the sun for most of his workday and could check to see if the boss’ cars were there or if they had gone for the day. The sun was harsh, but he had shade blinds which tempered the brightness. He enjoyed the sunlight though. It made him feel a little like he worked outside.

  There were quite a few offices with no windows or those on the west side of the building which only got the sun’s blessing as they were leaving to go home.

  Elias was about to check on his employees when he heard loud popping noises from outside. It had sounded a little like fireworks, which was strange. Why would someone be shooting off fireworks in the morning? Especially this close to a refinery. They wouldn’t be. So, what was it?

  Getting up from his desk he crossed to the windows and gazed out. Nothing immediately caught his attention, but he continued to scan the parking lot. A vehicle had cleared the gate and pulled into the parking lot. Nothing odd about that, though. The gate remained open, though, which was odd.

  Elias moved to the far corner of his windows in some vain attempt to see if he could see into the guard booth, though given the distance and the angle, he wasn’t able to. There was a window on this side, but Elias saw no movement inside.

  He squinted at the window, waiting to see some movement from Ryan. Something on the window made a peculiar pattern near the bottom left corner. It reminded Elias of how children sometimes draw the sun. They make a wedge-shaped semi-circle before drawing rays of light, little streaks of yellow crayon or marker radiating outward from the sun.

  The problem was. This sun wasn’t yellow, but dark red, almost black. As Elias watched, the rays of the sun began to trickle downward, like a red melting popsicle. Elias frowned. No. Not like a melting popsicle. Could it be? No. Impossible. Again, Elias scanned for Ryan. He was nowhere to be seen and the gate remained open.

  Elias backed away from the window and went to his phone. Dialing the gate, he waited as the phone connected and rang. It continued to ring, and Elias waited. No one answered. Stretching the phone cord, he went back to the window. No answer. No movement. A sense of dread landed like a brick in Elias’ stomach.

  When his door opened, he jumped and dropped the phone. It was Reva, the short, pretty, blonde engineer who was part of his team. Her face held a look of concern.

  “Do you know what is going on?”

  The question caught Elias by surprise.

  “Going on with what?”

  “With the president of the company?”

  “How do you mean?”

  She frowned at him, as if anybody should be aware of what went on, it should be him. Which, he supposed, was true.

  “Like, three buff-ass Russian bodyguard looking guys came and went into the meeting room and bustled him out.” Her concerned look came back. “They looked . . . worried.”

  The sense of dread came back, and Elias again glanced out the window toward the guard booth. Still no sign of Ryan. Those red sun rays were leaving long streaks down the glass. If I’m wrong, I’m going to look a fool.

  He picked up the phone, pushed the hang up button and looked to Reva. “Reva. Keep calm and quickly gather the team. I believe we have an active shooter situation and we need to follow protocol.”

  He dialed 911.

  Reva stared at him; her face drained of all color.

  “Active shooter?” It came out as barely a whisper.

  “Reva. Please. You need to get the team together and start to follow protocol.”

  “Police department.” The voice over the phone was female.

  “Yes. Hi. I am at Yulchik Petroleum. I believe we have an active shooter situation.”

  Reva still stood at the door, staring at him.

  REVA! He mouthed to her and shooed her out. She fl
ed.

  I wish it had been Susan. That woman could stay calm during a sharknado.

  “How many assailants are there, sir?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Assailants, sir. How many?”

  “I’m not sure. I heard gun fire. I think. And the guard who is supposed to be guarding the gate is gone. I think there is blood. The gate is still up. The president of the company was rushed out of here with bodyguards.” He realized he rambled, and he felt stupid. Everything he said was circumstantial. He hadn’t seen anyone with a gun. He wasn’t sure if he had heard gunshots, or something else. Ryan was missing, and the gate was up. Which was suspicious, to say the least, but there could be other explanations. The blood . . . He went to the window again and viewed the guard booth. Was it blood?

  He realized the dispatcher had been asking him something.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Has there been any other gun shots, sir?”

  “More gun shots? Um . . . No. I don’t think so.”

  A pause.

  “So, you heard what you believe were gun shots, but you haven’t heard them again and haven’t seen any of the shooters. Am I understanding the situation correctly, sir?” The dispatcher’s doubt was so palpable, he felt his face grow flush.

  “Look. I know how it sounds, but I’m trying to prevent something worse from happening.”

  “Can I get your name, sir?”

  He sighed.

  “Elias. Elias Tepper. Look, could you just send over someone? Please?”

  Commotion came from outside his office and he stared fixedly at the door trying to ascertain what was going on.

  He could hear loud noises. They were muffled with the door shut, but some were short, deep bursts of sound, others were higher and longer. His brows furrowed. He could hear the dispatch talking, but he couldn’t focus on their voice. The sounds outside his office were the focus of his every sense as he tried to comprehend what they were.