“Okay, let’s assume everything works out perfectly. What happens when the police are called to investigate the gunfire and eventually find these kids?”
“They ain’t going to call the cops,” Micah said with certainty. “Everyone knows there’s something wrong in there. We all been watching the news too, and everyone’s talking about you guys. You can bet that we ain’t the only ones on the block that know you’re here and what you’re fixing to do.”
“Why are you doing this?” Sara asked.
“Because I know that, if we don’t do something, one day they’re going to come for Brianna. That Bastion of Hope says that people like her can be safe. I want you to take her out of the ghetto and make her safe.”
John studied Micah intently for a moment before replying, “It’ll probably be safer than going into that high school. In any event, if we’re going to do something, we should do it now. We’ve already blown our element of surprise. We can only hope they haven’t already killed their hostages.”
Micah turned to his sister and told her, “Do your thing, girl.”
Brianna nodded, closed her eyes, and disappeared.
“Everyone follow behind me,” John ordered. “When we get inside, everyone draw your weapons. I suspect our entrance will bring them running. Brianna, you stay back until we come to something I want you to investigate. Sara, keep an eye out for that trail, so we can be sure we’re sending Brianna in the right direction. Everyone shoot when I say shoot. When I call for the gunfire to stop, it has to. Understood?”
Murmurs of assent and nodding heads were all John needed. He turned and walked to the front doors. He found them unlocked, as he suspected he would. The monsters inside surely thought they were more terrifying than any uninvited guests who might show up.
John threw the double doors open and walked inside. As silently as possible, as if it mattered, the group followed him inside. Those who had guns drew them as they had been told. They walked about seventy-five feet before coming to a stairwell going up and down.
“They were taken downstairs,” Sara whispered confidently. “This trail is very recent.”
John looked up. “I’m sure they were recently moved because the demons aren’t downstairs. In the event that we forced them to flee, they didn’t want us to find the woman and her daughter. I suspect they’re still alive. Go, Brianna. Get them out of here. The rest of us are going upstairs to create that distraction.”
John waited for some kind of acknowledgment from the group, then proceeded up the stairs. It looked like the stairs went up another flight, but he could sense the presence of the demons on the floor they had come to.
“They’re on this level,” John murmured.
He walked into the hallway, scanning both directions before turning to the left. After about a hundred feet, he brought everyone to a halt and pointed at the door in front of him. Sara could feel it too. John signaled for everyone to stand away from the door, slowly pulled his katana from its sheath, and put his hand on the knob.
In one fluid moment, he opened the door and stepped inside. As he did, something glowing blue hit him in the chest and encircled him. It looked to be some kind of chain, suspended in a circle around his torso. It trapped him where he stood, and he felt it constricting.
Looking forward, he saw the demons in their battle forms. The closest, and the one that had attacked him, had a mostly human form, lacking discernible physical features, and it glowed the same bright blue as the chain that surrounded him. The other looked like a stereotypical angel, only darker, complete with wings and a mediaeval long sword in its hand. However, the empty eye sockets and the palpable sensation of overwhelming dread that surrounded it like an aura were evidence that this was no angel.
“Open fire on the blue one!” John croaked with what breath he could pull into his lungs.
Sara, who had sidestepped in behind John after he got imprisoned by the demon’s chain, already had the blue fiend in her sight. When John gave the command, Sara fired off four rounds directly into its head. The boys came in behind her and also leveled their guns at the demon as its head rocked backwards from Sara’s shots.
John felt the bonds loosen more each time the demon was shot. On the fourth, he teleported out of the grasp right before the angelic demon’s sword sliced the air where his neck had been.
The dark angel turned around, confused, as gunfire rang out all around it. As it turned all the way around and locked eyes with John, the prophet drove his katana hilt-deep into its abdomen. Deftly removing it while stepping backward, John swung the sword with incredible speed and detached the demon’s head from its body, much like it had intended to do to him.
John looked over at the blue demon as its compatriot’s body collapsed to the floor. It had also been reduced to a lump on the ground, but it was still moving.
“Cease fire,” John commanded. When the order had been followed, he added, “Boys, go find Brianna, and make sure she and the hostages are safe. Sara and I will meet you after we take care of some business.”
The boys, wide-eyed and visibly shaken, nodded their agreement and ran out of the room. John walked up to the blue demon, which was alive still, but only barely. It convulsed a little as John got closer, and the prophet cocked his head as if intrigued by something he’d heard or seen. He stood over the monster for a few seconds, then decapitated it as well.
“See something interesting inside its head?” Sara asked.
“Yes. Metatron is in Kansas City. We need to find Brianna and the hostages and get out of here. The battle for Kingstone will soon be upon us.”
Chapter 7
A lie is often defined as a willful untruth or omission of a truth. Everyone lies to protect something he or she holds dear. Politicians lie to gain support; children lie to avoid punishment; parents lie to protect their children’s innocence; sometimes, even good people lie to protect the weak. It would be nice if we lived in a world where lying was always wrong. Alas, it is all too often the case that the world we live in cannot accept the truth. It is a sad state of affairs that entire groups of people must live lies for their own protection or to satisfy the masses. I hope, one day, our value of the truth will be stronger than our ignorance.
--Abigail Martin, Through the Eyes of a Martyr
“Alex!” his mother cried when he and the demon hunters walked in the door, a little bruised and bloody, but otherwise fine.
“Yeah, Mom,” he replied with mild enthusiasm, “we’re back.”
“You didn’t call,” Abbie noted as she walked toward them. “Did you find the demon you were seeking?”
“We did,” Garrett confirmed.
“I didn’t think we had any time to spare,” Alex quickly interjected before the obvious question arose. “I thought it was safer if we handled it ourselves.”
Abbie studied him. “Did you handle it, then?”
Alex was growing annoyed with her questions and doubt. She had been second-guessing him a lot lately, all because he wanted to help, and he was the best one to do it. She knew the answer, but had undoubtedly hidden some kind of double meaning in the question. Abbie couldn’t probe his mind, so she sought to trick the information out of him.
“The demon that killed Zeng Wei is dead,” he said. “It was unstable and violent; it had to be put down, or it would have continued its murderous rampage.”
“You still should have called,” Matt argued. “We had a plan that was safer.”
Alex shook his head. “It happened the only way it could. If anyone else had come, the demon would have simply fled and continued killing later.”
Realizing there was an important absence, and relieved with the notion of changing the subject, he added, “Where’s Liz?”
“She wasn’t feeling well earlier,” Abbie answered, following his lead, for now. “When she recuperated, she disappeared to her room to make modifications to her computer. She told us that, on top of some advanced hardware, she had a very important program to insta
ll. All she said was that she had made it herself, and she wanted total privacy.”
Alex nodded, a little concerned for Liz, but relieved to hear she was feeling well enough to continue working on a project he knew was important to her. Anyway, he was tired. He could check up on her after he’d rested for a little while.
“I think I’m going to take a nap,” he decided, walking toward a hallway that led to his room.
“Alex, I’m scared,” his mother called after him, causing him to pause in mid-stride.
He slowly turned to face her, only to see that she again had tears in her eyes. “Why, Mom? I thought you’d be happy everyone came back safe. I have this under control.”
She walked to him and took his hands in hers. “I know you think you do, but I can feel something isn’t right. I may not have super powers like you and your friends, but I know when my son is in pain.”
Alex tried his best to smile as his mother gripped his hands tightly. “I’m fine, Mom, really. I just need a little rest. You and Dad need to stay here in the safe house for a little while, until we can take care of things. But, after this is all over, we’re all going back home, I promise.”
He gently detached his hands, turned, and resumed his quest for rest and privacy.
***
Nagina sat across a small, relatively unadorned coffee table from David. He was small and terrified. She didn’t have to have the insight into people’s minds that Abbie had to deduce as much. He’d probably never had much exposure to people from other countries. It was likely that Zeng Wei would have been quite a shock to the boy as well.
She smiled to comfort the child, but he only looked away. He was only five, and he had recently been taken from his parents, put in the custody of Zeng Wei when the Elder Prophet Council became nervous about entrusting the boy’s safety to a monastery, and left with a lovely—but unqualified—Buddhist prophet in Kingstone while Zeng Wei defended the town from roving demons. Now, after her friend’s death, the responsibility to defend the new Dalai Lama fell upon her—if she lived long enough for him to not need to be passed to someone else.
“David,” she began softly, “I know you’re confused right now, with all the changes going on around you. You are probably feeling like you aren’t very safe, but I promise you that I will do everything I can to see you to safety.
“Luz may continue to teach you the rudimentary ways of Buddhism, but I will teach you of the power of your gift. For thousands of years, the spirit of the Buddha of Compassion has traveled from host to host. Unlike other souls, there has never been a time, since his birth, that the essence of Siddhartha Gautama has not been needed.
“I don’t know if I will do as good of a job as Lao Shi or Zeng Wei, but you are now my pupil. We will both just have to do the best that we can. Does this make sense?”
The boy nodded his head. “When can I see my mom?”
“When our job is done here, I will bring whomever you want to my home in Mumbai.”
“Will that be soon?”
Nagina nodded slowly. “Yes, I think it will be.”
***
Brianna beheld the prophet compound with awe. All across the twenty-five acre lot, R.V.s, tents, and trailers were dispersed between a half dozen semi-permanent-looking structures. One of the structures was a house, which looked to be where she, John, and Sara were going. Everything had already accumulated a light dusting of snow.
“Don’t be afraid, Brianna,” Sara said, stepping in front of the girl and kneeling to be eye level with her. “The people here are friends. I haven’t known them long myself, but I’m sure they are the best hope for people like us when there are demons, like the ones at that school, all around us.”
As they walked toward the house, Brianna didn’t miss the fact that there were many armed individuals, patrolling in groups of three and four. She had to resist the urge to turn invisible and hide from them as they passed.
When they ascended the stairs to the front porch of the house, the door opened, and a kind-looking woman walked out with a warm smile on her face.
“Brianna Erving,” John introduced with a wave of his hand, indicating the approaching woman, “this is Dr. Abigail Martin, a friend of mine, and the chairwoman of the Elder Prophet Council.”
“Please,” Abbie said, taking Brianna’s hand in hers, “call me Abbie. I thought I sensed someone new. Welcome, Brianna. You’re among friends.”
“We found her—well, actually she found us—in Kansas City,” John explained. “I didn’t exactly know what the procedure is for bringing new prophets to the safe house, but I thought she should at least be brought to your attention.”
“What do you do, dear?” Abbie asked.
Brianna looked nervously at Abbie, as if trying to conceal the fact that she was different.
Abbie laughed. “Don’t worry, Brianna. Everyone here is special. None of us are going to judge you. In fact, some of us might be able to help you understand what’s happening to you, and how to focus your powers.”
“I can turn invisible,” Brianna admitted guiltily.
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Abbie added quickly. “Would you, please?”
“Turn invisible?”
Abbie got an excited grin. “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Brianna shrugged, and, in an instant, was gone.
Abbie blinked, then laughed. “Wonderful! Does it strain you at all?”
Brianna reappeared. “No, not really.”
“You might be interested to know that I am acquainted with at least ten other prophets who can turn invisible, just like you. Each of them has been doing it for a while; it’s quite a survival skill, and I’m sure that any of them would love to tell you what they know.”
“Prophets?”
“We believe that our gifts are given to us by a greater being, whatever your name for it, and that being has a design for us. Those of us who choose to be an active part in that design are called prophets. Please come into the house with me, and I’d be glad to answer any of your questions that I can.”
John, Sara, and Brianna all complied. The house, which had looked much smaller from the outside, concealed a great deal of activity within its walls. Again, Brianna stood in awe of the people who were moving all around her but seemed to not even notice the presence of someone new.
“I’m sure you have some family member who will be concerned about your absence,” Abbie prompted.
Brianna nodded and grimaced. “Momma.”
“Did you tell her you were leaving?”
John fielded this question. “I briefed her while Sara returned the woman and child to the cop. She took it better than most. Ms. Erving already knew there was something about Brianna, here. When I used my powers to prove my story, she explained that her family had been following our activities on the news very closely.”
“You was at the White House,” Brianna added.
“Yes, I was,” Abbie affirmed. “There are some in the American Government, including the President and his staff, who wish us harm. They have been corrupted by demonic influence, and their masters are afraid of what we might do.”
“Apologies for the interruption, Abbie,” Marla said in a hushed voice, walking out of the kitchen with a folded piece of paper in her hand, “but Lonny called, and his flight just landed.”
A momentary flash of concern crossed Abbie’s face, and she asked, “Are our people in place?”
“I sent them to rendezvous with the band.”
“They all came?”
“Yes, all four band members are in Kansas City.”
“They aren’t the only ones,” John added. “Before it died, I searched a demon’s mind and found that Metatron is in Kansas City. The attack is coming sooner than we had anticipated.”
“It isn’t completely unanticipated,” Abbie corrected. “Since we arrived in Kingstone, we knew that Metatron would try to hit us before we could set up adequate defenses. For all he would know, this is the best ti
me to attack.”
“I think he’d probably be right,” John replied. “In the state we’re in, he would have no problems taking the entire town before we could organize any kind of resistance. We need to double our watches around the town and pull all prophets out of Kansas City as soon as possible.”
Abbie nodded and turned back to Marla. “Agreed. Tell Salmar to make haste back to Kingstone. He is to stop for no reason, and they should keep phone contact with us until everyone is safely on the premises.”
Handing the piece of paper to Abbie, Marla said, “This is a message for you.”
“From Raul?”
Marla nodded.
Abbie unfolded the paper and scanned it quickly. Smiling, she folded it back and stuck it in her pocket. “Thank you, Marla. Please see Lonny and his band safely to Kingstone for me. I promised Raul no harm would befall his protégé.”
“Absolutely,” Marla concurred and, without another word, walked back to the kitchen to make some calls.
Abbie returned her attention to the girl. “Please excuse my rudeness, Brianna. That business was very pressing. Now, it’s policy to assign novice prophets a mentor, someone who can teach you necessary information for survival as a prophet, protect you, serve as a representative for you to Elder Prophets, and, in this case, give you a safe place to stay until our conflict is over...if that day ever comes. Let’s walk around the prophet encampment while I figure out who would be most suitable.”
“What about her?” Brianna asked, indicating Sara.
“My dear, Ms. Card has only known that she is a prophet for a month. I was thinking of pairing you with someone a little more experienced, possibly someone who has lived for multiple human lifetimes.”
“Respectfully, Abbie,” John retorted a little defensively, “Sara has seen a lot since Jeremiah broke the news to her less than gently that she is a prophet. She is, in fact, a prophet who is a trained police officer. I think she would be an excellent choice to watch over Brianna and give her a place to stay. And, as for her experience, it may be that she and Brianna could learn a lot together.”
Legends (To Absolve the Fallen Book 3) Page 25
