Only The Saints (Lost Survival Series Book 2)

by David Tyne

  "You're into that, huh?"

  I half-turned towards him, lagging behind the current timezone. "...Hmm? Into what?"

  He raised his arm and pointed in the most obvious manner at our mutual friend, forcing me to grab his wrist and manually lower it... just in case she saw. The action gave Jamie a cold snicker, taking it as a sign of confirmation.

  "I knew it! You totally looove her!"

  I stuttered to defend myself, waving my arms in protest. "I-It's really not like that! We're just mates—"

  “Ooh, Daniel! Have my babies, Daniel!” He imitated Serah’s sob story from the hotel, rubbing his stomach like he was pregnant. I decided to ignore the idiot, turning to check whether she had noticed us acting up. Also, I was compelled to just watch her for a moment, sitting discreetly by the dance floor.

  "...She's pretty incredible though, isn't she?” I stated, without thinking. “I mean, we've all been through hell and back, but she's never thought about herself for even a minute. It's always about who she's helping, who she's with." I leaned against the banister, taking in the light atmosphere. "...I guess none of us really know that much about her, after all."

  The rude teen had already scuttled off after overhearing that they were serving desserts backstage, which at least gave me an opening. Serah sat alone, watching everybody dance as her troubled mind reflected clear fatigue through her eyes. I approached her from behind, tapping her shoulder innocently.

  "You're thinking again, aren't you?" I could tell that she wanted to point out the obvious logical fallacy; that every species carrying a brain can’t ever stop themselves from thinking. She seemed to understand my intentions for what they were, and shook her head.

  "That huge monster on the bridge. All of those Lost... How can we keep going on like this? You and me, we're insects. We’ll never stop running from them... From whatever else is out there. Every day, we're just delaying—"

  I grabbed her cold hand from her resting glass, warming it up between my palms. Her darkened glasses tilted away, not wanting to see my fake grin.

  "Sssh... Don't think." I took her other hand, and led her to the centre of the spiralling floor. I wanted to make her forget about it all; to pretend at least for one song, that we had nothing to do with this tragic world.

  I started to sway, and she copied my movements after a second of hesitation. Resting her weighted head on my shoulder, I realised that this was the second time we'd been this close together. The first was when she pretended that we were a couple, in order to save my life.

  She has a habit of doing that.

  "Daniel..." Her voice caught, but this time there weren’t any theatrics or fake tears. She wouldn't allow herself to cry, although I could sense that she was torn on the inside.

  “It’s okay,” I hushed her with the side of my hand.

  "No, it’s not. I've been so stupid... I only cared about learning the facts, figuring out how to distance myself. Trying not to become a burden to you guys. Do you think... that makes me lonely?”

  “Lonely?”

  “Yeah… That maybe I'd have nothing to live for, if I was on my own."

  Knowing Serah, she had probably scrutinized every possible scenario — like she naturally would — and couldn't handle the prospect that our deaths would likely come before hers. That one day, we might all die and leave her behind.

  The silence I left while thinking of an answer must’ve made her a little anxious. "...Is that a selfish question? I'm sorry—"

  I pulled her entire body closer towards my chest. The music grew even more lively, and in response she wrapped her arms tight around my shoulders. Pressing my lips against her ear, I smiled and whispered under the upbeat tunes.

  "You'll never be alone. I’ll stake my own life before I have to bury another one of my friends. I promise, no one else has to die."

  She buried her head into my neck awkwardly, catching glances from fellow dancers. "That's... not what I mean. I don't want you to die, either." I almost stumbled as her words hit me, releasing an intense bolt of lightning that sparked through both of our bodies.

  Neither of us would allow the other to disappear. She felt the same hopelessness I did, the dread of losing someone close to heart. She actually understood.

  "...Then I can promise that, too.”

  The song had reached its high point, and the happy couples started to spin their partners into the air. Matching their movements, I twirled Serah along my arm and caught her in such a way that our eyes met.

  “I will never die.”

  The memory of that night was truly dream-like, lost in a smoky haze of wonder. I was surrounded by a sea of blank faces, the two of us the only people left in existence, dressed up like aristocrats.

  I held onto Serah, the most empathic girl who had given everything to help the people around her. I gazed down at her with tangible stars in my eyes, while she connected her delicate hands around the nape of my neck.

  "Daniel..." She nudged her face towards mine, and the butterflies hit me in the stomach. Her lips closed in, inquisitive as her very nature. Almost making me forget the many reasons why we shouldn’t.

  I need someone. It doesn’t hurt to admit that anymore... It’s not a weakness. We need each other...

  A deafening crackle of thunder filled the ballroom, echoing several times as the party guests flipped around in distress. Everyone’s eyes darted over to the stage, startled to see the lead guitarist of the band face-planting himself into the amp.

  I recognised Jamie’s shoes at the back of the stage, lying upside down – he'd apparently tripped over the amp cable leading to the young gentlemen's guitar, causing him to take a nosedive over the edge. The performance was halted, and Mr Banks bawled something at the Hispanic-looking musician as he and Jamie were escorted backstage.

  As the moment between Serah and I fizzled out, we made our way swiftly towards the red curtain that Mr Banks had slipped behind. I was extremely uncomfortable with Jamie being anywhere near the man, after conning him out of a large sum of money.

  We followed the brash yelling noises, and sure enough, we came across the ‘Boss’ along with his armed goons. He literally screamed at the culprits, lined up in front of him like two kids at the principal’s office.

  "Idiots! Fucking idiots!! Do you have any idea how much I had riding on tonight, for you to embarrass us like that?! You were this close to being let off the hook, Tomás, but that’s the fucking last straw!"

  The guitarist glanced awkwardly to the side, looking somewhat ashamed of his accident, despite it clearly not being his fault. He said nothing in response, ruffling his short-black hair backwards.

  "I'm going to get such bad press for this!” The greying man continued, pacing back and forth. “We've been planning this event all day, to celebrate the end of those blood-crazed neighbours… Our clients pay to see perfection, not amateur hour!"

  I had to step in, slightly bothered by the man's avarice. "Mr Banks... I don’t know about your business, but honestly, it was only a tumble. I doubt anyone on the floor even gave it a second thought. So what if you lose a couple of bucks?"

  The suited boss shot me a glare, making me feel like a mere child in my ridiculous shorts. "So what? I’ll tell you what, you blathering simpletons!! I need lots and lots of money to keep stocked on three key resources: food, shelter and whores. In fucked times like these, making other people happy is a booming industry. Now, when my clients start to get angry—"

  Without warning, one of his suited friends burst out from behind the dressing room door, in apparent shock. "B… Boss... The briefcase, it's gone!!"

  My stomach sank as I shared an anxious look with Jamie and Serah. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out who was there when the metal case filled with raw cash went missing.

  Mr Banks’ face dropped like someone had just cut his own heart out; the stolen money was somehow vital to supporting his own way of life. "Are you having a fucking joke? Did one of you baboons forget to double-check? N
o one bothered to take the single-largest haul we’ve found on this side of Queensferry?!"

  Mr Banks was on the warpath, his throbbing forehead lashing out in every direction as his focus landed solely on Tomás, the guitarist. Their eyes aligned, the predator and his prey.

  "You. Want to make up for tonight's debacle? Find me that briefcase. You know what will happen if you don't come back right away... Your contract belongs to me."

  He then pointed my way, jolting me out of my transfixion with another cold stare.

  "Kid, you know the way to that hotel. Take him there.”

  “No way I’m going back outside,” I flatly rejected. “It’s almost midnight, those things’ll be everywhere! Maybe tomorrow—”

  “You’ll do it now, and I wasn’t asking. The three of you turn up out of the blue, and my money just vanishes into thin air? I find that rather suspicious."

  Serah stepped in front of me, rather defensively. "We’re not going to indulge in your pig-headed money problems! In case you haven't noticed, there's absolute hell raining down outside those doors! Not just the dead, something far worse is coming—"

  Mr Banks grabbed Serah by the wrist, slinging her backwards into the far wall. Her head collided with the stage support’s metal bracket, forcing a restrained cry to escape her throat. I almost buckled over, trying to throw myself at him. Two of his men pushed me back, a brick wall between me and Serah.

  "Don't touch her!!" I spat at Mr Banks. He just smiled, brushing his own hand over her silver necklace, snapping it off for his own collection of goods.

  “L-Let me go,” she warned with an obvious waver.

  "Oh, sweetheart... I would never force a woman with child to run such a dangerous errand. Besides, you’ll be much safer back here, where my lucky men can ‘keep you warm’."

  I furiously wrestled against the goons restraining me as their boss placed his hand over Serah's stomach, hoping to feel our imaginary baby. His eyes met with mine once more, slanted like a sly fox.

  "You'll leave immediately... and I sincerely hope that you don't plan on going anywhere with my money. I could simply never forgive myself, if any harm came to this darling new family of yours."

  He was toying with us. He knew that I wouldn’t dare to leave Serah behind, even if I did know where his briefcase was... Not that I shared any level of interest in his twisted money game.

  As he recklessly threw Serah into the dressing room, with complete disregard for her safety, he turned the lock with a cold click. I could still hear her banging on the door, screaming relentlessly for us to forget about her.

  We were escorted against our wills back through the ballroom, with every pair of eyes stuck on Tomás, Jamie and myself. The message had been received, loud and clear; I had to get this man his money, as soon as possible.

  There was nothing left to negotiate.

  17 | From Above

  The Aquarium’s automatic door sealed behind us with a dramatic boom, echoing far out into the pitch-black night. To the South, we could barely glimpse the Forth bridge in all of its ruined glory. The central belt had crumbled entirely during the time we'd spent asleep.

  Looks like Millie’s not getting across that way.

  I nodded at Jamie, and he pulled out his sharpened letter-opener. I readied the metal poker that Mr Banks was lenient enough to grant me with before leaving. Our strange companion closed over his silver guitar case, slinging it over his shoulder without a care in the world.

  "You brought your... guitar?” I sighed at Tomás, unamused. “Fantastic. You can play 'Mary Had A Little Lamb' while we're busy getting our faces bitten off." It was uncalled for, but I was still in a bitter mood after leaving Serah in the clutches of that power-hungry mobster.

  The lead guitarist tilted his head slightly, glancing back with a smile. "My whole life is in this box, bro. Wherever I go, it goes. Try to chill out, y’know?" He giggled light-heartedly, completely ignoring the gravity of our dire situation.

  As the three of us followed the downhill road with a tense silence, we made sure to keep ourselves up on the pavement. Pausing every now and then, we used the darkness to our advantage as the Lost drifted aimlessly past us, dragging themselves along the centre of the road.

  When the coast was clear enough, Jamie looked back at the Hispanic musician with visible remorse. "I'm... I'm sorry I dragged you into this. I really didn't mean to ruin your—" Tomás ruffled Jamie's hair annoyingly, as he laughed to himself.

  "It’s nothing, little dude. That old fart Banks was one wrong chord away from giving me the axe anyway... Doesn't matter how many contracts or threats he makes. Me and my brother, we’ll always be deadweight to him."

  I was going to inquire further, but more Lost had begun to emerge from the bridge’s open gates. They were climbing across the red steel’s barely-attached framework, sprinting across the night sky. Drawing too much attention from above, it seemed.

  A loud rattling noise erupted from the sky itself, flashes of blinding bullets rained down sporadically around us. Anything that moved into the open road was a target.

  "Get back against the wall!!" I screamed over the gunfire as Tomás raised his guitar case to shield himself. An obscuring spotlight exploded into view, almost like a second sun as it painted our quaint street completely white.

  I managed to take note of the black helicopter, drifting over the wrecked bridge as it sent the sky-high Lost exploding into the waters below. "Why... Why are they doing this?!" I yelled at the aircraft, knowing that it had no chance of hearing me.

  Telos… They must be going after Burkley. How is that bastard still alive?!

  My fury transformed into sheer terror, when my eyes landed upon the underside of the institute’s helicopter. It was carrying a pod, similar to the one that those flesh-coloured beasts had been residing in. The ones that created absolute havoc and wiped out the O-Saints in a matter of seconds.

  "No... Not more of them..." I breathed sharply, with Jamie sharing my discomfort.

  Tomás glanced innocently at our disturbed faces, up towards the helicopter, then back at us. "What's so bad about that? Aren't they going to help us?"

  I didn't even need to say it. My expression must have been so intensely grim, that he got the message without me uttering a single word. Tomás’ entire face tightened, his goofy smile fading away into the uncertain night.

  "So it's like that, then... In that case, we'd better get a move on."

  Hugging the edges of the rustic inns and pubs along the main road, the helicopter passed directly over us as we kept to the shadows. Discreetly, we stepped over the bullet-ridden corpses of the Lost and prayed that we wouldn’t be next.

  The sound of a heavy shell being dropped through the air forced us to pick up the pace. A resulting crash from the top of the hill sent shock-waves throughout Main Street, almost ripping the concrete out from beneath our feet.

  Another one of those strange pods had been released; that monster could catch up to us in ten seconds flat, judging from the speed of the last one. Those creatures, those things… They weren’t normal.

  Through the corner of my eye, I caught something human-shaped lurking amongst the disused street cars. I didn't even try to confirm whether it was a product of Telos or not — I just ran even faster, and my two accomplices followed suit.

  Bursting through the familiar heavy door of ‘The Sleeping Fox’ hotel, I slammed and bolted it shut behind us. Sensing that this wasn't nearly enough to secure our safety, I dragged half a dozen chairs in from the lobby and pushed the nearby coffee table up against the wood to barricade the entrance.

  "...Y'know someone could just come through the window, right?" Tomás teased. I shot him a glare, which he just shrugged off. He was probably still trying to work out why we’d shat ourselves at the sight of a single helicopter.

  The hotel was just as we'd left it, only dimmer as the pale moonlight poured in through the undusted bay windows. "All right Jamie, where did you put it?" I demanded to know,
anxiously keeping one eye on the blocked door.

  The boy seemed to recoil at the accusation. After a few seconds of feigning innocence, he knew the jig was up and responded by heading behind the counter of the reception. He shuffled some books around, slammed them down and finally presented the metal briefcase.

  Tomás rubbed his eyes in disbelief, clearly surprised that our objective had been accomplished so easily. "Wait, so you guys really were trying to steal the Godfather’s money? That’s hardcore!"

  “No. We weren’t.” My body tensed up, realising that this guy could grass up Jamie... We'd lose our only chance of getting everyone out of here and safely back home.

  Tomás must have read my thought process, leaning over to take a peek at the case. "Don't worry, I won't tell ol' Banksie. Say, how much do you think is in there, anyway?" I coldly placed my hand on the money, sliding the case away as the musician reached for it.

  "Enough to get Serah back. No one else touches this until Banks lets her go."

  Raising his arms in defeat, Tomás threw his attention out of the window, almost looking for someone in the hazy black. "...Probably best not to head out for a while. Man, I tell ya though — whatever was on that helicopter, it gave you guys the spooks. Makes me wonder what could be scarier than a thousand zombies roaming the streets."

  “Don’t call them that,” I snapped while rolling my eyes. “It’s bloody stupid.”

  “Heh… Sorry.”

  I lay down beside Jamie against the reception desk, conceding that waiting for the helicopter situation to cool down would be our best option. In the meantime, I tried to rationalise what we'd seen out loud. It helped me recover own sanity, and Tomás deserved to know what he was getting into.

  "I don't know what was on-board those things... but it isn't something I ever want to meet again." I grazed my chest with my hand, remembering how powerfully the wolf-man threw me into the air. If I hadn't braced myself then, I'd be nothing more than a splatter of blood and guts against a wall.