Serpent's Sacrifice (The Vigilantes Book 1)

by Trish Heinrich

  Twelve families, their lives ruined.

  The man shambled after her, not watching where he was going. He fell face first into his coffee table, the knife flying from his hands.

  Alice jumped up and punched him twice, the man’s glassy eyes staring up at her for a moment before he passed out.

  A gasp behind her made Alice jump.

  Crouched low, green eyes wide with fear, stood a little boy. His slight, shaking frame was clothed in footie pajama’s, brown hair tousled as if he’d just woken.

  Alice took in the pale, sweaty skin, the smell of urine on a boy who should be past wetting the bed, and knew he had been affected by the gas.

  “It’s okay, honey,” she said, taking a few slow steps. “I’m here to help.”

  The boy looked at the man sprawled across the coffee table. She held her breath in expectation of wailing or panic.

  Neither came.

  Alice’s heart stopped at the too-calm, calculating look on the boy’s face as he picked up the butcher knife his father had been waving around.

  “Put the knife down,” Alice said, trying to sound calm.

  The boy frowned at her. “Why?”

  He began walking with calm, slow steps toward her, his little hand tightening on the handle.

  I can’t hit a child. What the hell—?

  That’s when she saw the shadows creeping along the floor, snaking up the boy’s legs. Within moments, the boy dropped the knife, and Alice caught him just before he hit the floor, his breathing even, face peaceful in sleep.

  “You alright?” Marco asked.

  She nodded as she lay the boy on the ripped-up couch.

  “Where’s Lionel?”

  “He’s two houses down,” Marco said, wiping blood from his nose.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, woman got in a lucky shot.”

  Alice took a step and tried not to wince as her back seized into a spasm. She noticed how Marco was favoring his left side and wondered if his ribs were still bothering him from last night’s fight.

  For the last five days, they’d responded to seven Fantasy gas attacks. All small and localized within different communities. Gerald was patching them up as best he could, but their bodies didn’t have enough time to heal between fights.

  They stepped out onto the perfectly manicured, emerald green lawn, the smell of summer roses and rosemary thick in the air.

  Despite the police cars casting strange shadows from their blue and red lights, the sight of bodies being zipped into bags, the occasional scream of rage or fear, Alice smiled.

  “That smell,” she said, voice soft with memories.

  Marco looked at her. “My mother’s garden.”

  Alice nodded. “When I was a kid and I smelled that, I knew I was safe.”

  He turned away, his throat working as he swallowed.

  “I miss her at the strangest moments. Like right now, just before you said that, I was thinking of her.”

  “She’d be proud of you.”

  Before he could respond, they heard a terribly familiar sound.

  A scream, deep and throaty.

  They bolted to the house where Lionel last was and skidded to a halt when he came crashing through the front window.

  Alice snapped a clip of serpent bites into her gauntlet and charged for Lionel, who was pummeling a man in the grass.

  The entire clip went into Lionel’s arm, but all it did was divert his attention from the innocent man he was punching.

  Lionel jumped up, teeth barred, eyes wild.

  Alice stumbled back, trying to snap another clip into the gauntlet, when a rolling wave of shadows swept past her. They crawled up Lionel until they covered him.

  When the shadows retreated, Lionel was kneeling on the ground.

  Alice ran to him, knowing they had moments to get Lionel out of here before the police tried to arrest him.

  “Lionel,” she took his face in her hands.

  He didn’t say anything, just nodded, his face haggard.

  “C’mon,” Marco threw one of Lionel’s arms around his shoulders.

  “Maybe you should let them have me.” Lionel’s voice was heavy with sadness.

  “Not a chance,” Marco said.

  Lionel’s knees wobbled. “Those damn...bites of yours.”

  “Now? They work now?” Alice said, slapping Lionel. “Don’t you fall asleep yet.”

  “I’m..trying, gorgeous.”

  She hit him again. “Try harder because I’m not hauling your unconscious butt back to the loft.”

  “I have a feeling you’d...haul my butt...anywhere.”

  A small smile tugged at her lips. “Shut up and walk.”

  Gerald was waiting for them when they got to Alice’s loft.

  “Take a look at Marco,” Alice said, ignoring his look of protest before going to her room.

  As she peeled off her suit, Alice gasped in pain. Her mid-section was a mass of bruises, as was her back. Her hands were so swollen that it took effort to get the gloves off. When she was finally did, a few scabs went with them and she gave a small cry of pain.

  “Alice?” Gerald said behind the door.

  “I’m not dressed.”

  “I’m a doctor, remember?”

  “Alright,” she said, shrugging into a robe.

  Gerald’s eyebrows arched as he took in her nonchalant stance.

  She tried her best to stare him down, but it was useless.

  Alice untied the robe. “Fine, but don’t tell them anything.”

  “Patient-doctor confidentiality and all that,” he said.

  His calloused fingers probed her back and stomach as gently as possible, but Alice still had to bite her bottom lip to keep the tears at bay.

  “You can’t keep this up,” he said, dabbing ointment on her bleeding hands.

  “We don’t really have a choice.”

  “She’s trying to break you.”

  “I know.”

  He bandaged her hands in silence, then attended to some of the cuts on her legs and face.

  “Lay down, I’m going to try to heal you a bit more than usual. This may be uncomfortable.”

  Alice had thought that she was used to what it felt like to be healed by Gerald. But what she experienced that night made her realize that Gerald had been holding back.

  It was like fire and ice were warring for dominance inside of her. She gasped, tears leaking out from under her lashes. It wasn’t painful exactly, but it wasn’t pleasant either. When the flow of energy had ceased coursing through her, Alice’s body felt deliciously languid and warm. Her eyes closed and for the first time all week, she didn’t think sleep would be a problem.

  Gerald pulled a soft blanket around her.

  She didn’t hear him leave.

  The smell of cinnamon and coffee greeted Alice the next morning. When she threw the blankets back, instead of the harsh pain of inflamed muscles, her body was just mildly stiff. Her hands were still a little swollen, but for the first time all week she hadn’t wanted to cry just with the effort of getting out of bed.

  “Morning,” Lionel said, kissing her on the forehead. “Feeling better?”

  “Much, you?”

  His face fell and he handed her the front page of the paper, the headline large and jarring: “American Steel Puts Father of Two In Coma”.

  She pulled him into a hug. After a few minutes, he put his arms ever so gently around her.

  “Breakfast is ready,” Marco said from the kitchen.

  Alice expected their usual sticky buns and coffee, but what she saw instead was a cinnamon coffee cake with a candle in the center.

  “Oh, my gosh, I’d forgotten.” She laughed.

  “You forgot your own birthday?” Lionel said.

  “With everything going on—”

  Marco pulled out a chair for her. “Well, we didn’t.”

  She looked between them, her heart swelling with affection. Amid the chaos that surrounded them e
very day, they remembered something as small as her birthday.

  “Make a wish,” Lionel said, his voice as excited as a child’s.

  Alice laughed. She hadn’t made a wish for her birthday in many years.

  There’s really only one...

  She looked into Marco’s warm brown eyes.

  Alright, two things that I want.

  It wasn’t hard to blow out the single candle, but Alice hoped she’d get her wish regardless.

  “Your uncle wanted to be here,” Marco said, producing a small box. “But Gerald has him on bed rest.”

  “He made us promise to bring you by tonight though,” Lionel said, stealing a crumble off the cake.

  The box was wrapped in plain brown paper, with a small blue bow on it. Inside was a dark purple velvet box, the kind that jewelers put necklaces in. As she opened it, Alice choked back tears.

  It was her aunt’s locket, the gold sunburst on the front polished to look almost new. Opening it with a press of her thumb nail, she let the tears fall when she saw a picture of her aunt smiling back at her inside.

  Lionel’s huge hand engulfed her shoulder, giving it a tender squeeze. “How about some cake?”

  She sniffled. “Yes, and coffee.”

  The phone rang, shrill and loud.

  Alice ran to get it.

  “Probably Uncle Logan...Hello?”

  “Alice?” Victoria’s sweet voice came over the receiver.

  Alice felt her stomach drop. “Victoria, what can I do for you?”

  “Well, it’s a little awkward, but...were you planning on showing up today?”

  Alice frowned. “Today?”

  “Please, don’t tell me you forgot.”

  Marco and Lionel were frowning at her in concern as she stared wide-eyed at them.

  “The Park Side Clinic party?” Victoria said, her voice tinged with frustration. “It’s this afternoon.”

  “Oh, yes, yes of course! I’m sorry, I, uh, it’s my birthday and I just...”

  “You did forget, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Alice said, trying to work the bile down her throat. “But I did promise you and I am ready to help.”

  “Oh good! You will be in charge of the ring-toss booth. Can you be here in two hours?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Wonderful. Oh...and Alice?”

  “Yes?”

  “Happy Birthday. I hope it will be one to remember.”

  A chill crept down Alice’s spine. “Thank you.”

  “What did she want?” Marco asked, brows furrowing.

  Alice sank onto the couch. Her mouth was dry, her gut churning.

  “She called to remind me about the Park Side Clinic celebration today. I had volunteered...”

  With a sudden terrible clarity, the final piece of Phantasm’s plan fell into place.

  “She’s...all the gas attacks this week, they’ve all been a diversion,” she said, her voice shaking.

  “For what?” Lionel asked.

  “Park Side is the next step,” Marco said, his quiet voice filled with horror. “All those innocent people.”

  “She can’t...I mean, she’s...” Alice closed her eyes.

  “But how?” Lionel said. “What is she planning to do?”

  “The gas,” Marco said. “She’ll release it on the people.”

  “And if we’re there, we will be blamed,” Alice said.

  “But how can we not?” Lionel eyes blazed. “She’s got us over a barrel.”

  “This will do it. This will convince the police and Mayor, and whoever else she needs, to go forward with her plan.”

  “She’d cause the injury and death of all those people, just for that?” Marco looked as if he were about to be sick.

  “We have to call Garrick.” Alice jumped up.

  “And tell him what?” Lionel asked. “That Victoria Veran is Phantasm and is planning on gassing half of Park Side, and oh, by the way, I’m really sorry for beating that guy last night?”

  Alice nodded. “We’re on our own.”

  “When do you need to be at Park Side?” Marco asked.

  “In a couple of hours, why?”

  “We’ll go with you.”

  “No.”

  “Are you kidding?” Lionel said.

  “I mean, you both can’t be seen there.” Alice started to pace, the movement helping to clear the panic from her mind. “Let’s assume that she knows who the two of you are. If she sees you, then she’ll know we’re on to her.”

  “But if she sees just you, then she’ll think we don’t have a clue,” Marco said.

  “Right. So, you two find a place to hide. I’ll have my suit with me and when I get the chance, I’ll change. That way when the gas goes off, we’ll be ready.”

  “But what if you’re not?” Lionel’s hands began clenching into fists. “What if it goes off before you can get your suit on, or even your gas mask.”

  “I’ll keep the mask in my handbag. I’ll be alright, I promise.”

  Lionel looked like he wanted to fight with her about it, but finally, he nodded.

  “Where should we meet?” Marco asked. “That area has changed a lot since we were kids.”

  “Have you been lately?” Alice asked.

  “Couple of times on assignment. Here—” Marco took some paper and pen and started drawing a map of the area.

  When he was done, Alice was shocked. The wide-open fields around the abandoned old warehouse were gone. Instead, there were almost a dozen apartment buildings. They’d been built so close together that it would be no trouble to jump from one rooftop to the next.

  “It’s a huge U shape, the concrete slab of the old warehouse in the center with apartment buildings along the side and the back.”

  “They built right up to the wall that was part of the old paper processing plant,” Alice said.

  “Why didn’t anyone ever build there?” Lionel asked.

  “No idea. There are two streets that run through this area.”

  Marco made more lines on the makeshift map on either side of the apartment buildings, then he drew more apartment buildings on the other side of the lines so that there were buildings facing each other.

  “These two streets are the only ways into that area. They will probably be blocked off at either end to prevent too much traffic coming through. The buildings on this side of the street, across from the newer buildings? That’s what’s left of the old neighborhood.”

  “It’s going to be tight with so many people crowded in there and how close the buildings are.”

  “And the streets being blocked off will keep everyone in that area once the gas hits,” Alice said.

  Marco nodded. “A concentrated group of people in a complete panic.”

  Alice glanced up at him, wondering how he would do with so many strong emotions to handle. He met her gaze, a tight set to his thin lips.

  He’s thinking the same thing. And how is Lionel going to do? Will it come down to just me?

  She sighed, rubbing her sweating palms on her robe.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “What we always do,” Lionel said, his smile tight. “Save the day.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Marco said.

  “No, it isn’t. But we don’t know enough to plan anything. We just have to be ready for whatever comes.”

  Alice knew he was right, and in the past, they had been lucky. Even if the plan went to hell, they were somehow able to make a success out of it, find something out, or catch the bad guy.

  But something inside of her knew that this time, it wouldn’t be enough.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  A cracked concrete slab was all that was left of the old warehouse Alice, Lionel, and Marco had played in as children. The fields around it, which had stretched wide and lonely, were now covered in cheaply-made apartment buildings. Though not that tall or wide, it was still shocking how many they’d managed to force into the space around the old warehouse foundat
ion.

  Dozens of game booths, food carts and tables with goods from local businesses were sprawled over what was likely the only wide-open space in this cramped area. Every inch of space that wasn’t needed for walkways was filled with booths.

  Alice walked along the perimeter, between the booths and carts and the apartment buildings, trying to get a sense of how much space they’d have when the gas went off. Her stomach sank when she realized how tightly they’d packed the booths for the party. She looked around at the hundreds of people lined up, waiting for this carnival-like party to begin.

  There’s barely twenty-five feet in some places. She’ll have us all hemmed in like rats in a maze.

  Bored police officers sat with their squad cars blocking off both sides of the street, and Alice realized with dread that this meager group would never be able to stem the tide of panicked people once the gas went off.

  Even if they weren’t affected by it.

  The more she walked around, the longer the line of families became, until it had begun to wind its way between one of the smaller apartment buildings and into the blocked off street.

  Once she couldn’t stall any longer, Alice found a security guard to escort her to the ring toss booth. He led her past a tent filled with picnic tables and a small stage with a microphone and a table. Large speakers stood on long poles pointed out toward the booths.

  She scanned the area as best as she could, but her short stature made seeing much difficult, even though the families hadn’t been let in yet.

  At the front of the line of people waiting to get in, there was a table filled with white and purple bags.

  “What’s that?” she asked the man escorting her.

  “Mrs. Veran has arranged for the first one hundred people to be given a special bag of goods from local businesses.”

  Alice stared at the bags. “Can I take a peek? I’m so curious—”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Seymour, you’re already late and I need to get you to the booth before the party starts.”

  “Of course,” she said, a cold, sick feeling spread through her.

  She glanced back at the bags.

  She wouldn’t really...would she?

  As she followed him, the smell of corn dogs, cotton candy and caramel corn hung heavy on the air. She had barely said hello to the man who would be running the booth with her when a bell sounded and the barriers erected to keep the crowds back disappeared. The people surged forward, and if not for security guards directing them into neat rows, it would’ve been chaos.