"It's inevitable. Nothing can keep us apart forever. I would never allow it."
Sabnock smiled. She could almost believe it possible.
"What's a few hundred or thousand more years?" Constance continued.
"Forever," Sabnock replied, wistfully.
The historian realized there wasn't anything more she could do or say to comfort the demoness. Feeling a tug from her new world, she realized their time together was almost over. Sabnock sensed it also and released her grip on the orb.
"I guess this is it."
"For now, my love, but not forever, I promise you. When the time is right, we will be together again. It's our destiny. If you believe it is so, it will happen."
"Then I have no choice but to believe, but..."
"No! There is no ‘but' between you and I, only when."
The orb shimmered brightly and then disappeared. Looking at her empty hands, Sabnock shook her head, wanting desperately to believe.
"When..." she whispered to the emptiness she was feeling inside.
CHAPTER 18
TIRED OF fighting, Sabnock accepted the medical discharge offered to her after her last tour in Afghanistan. Had she not been so depressed, she would have found it amusing to be perfectly fit while listening to the military doctor telling her she wouldn't be able to carry her backpack or pass the fitness test. After collecting her final paycheck, she disappeared. Several of her military buddies tried their best to locate her but it was as if she had disappeared from the planet. Eventually they gave up, assuming she had either been killed somewhere or just didn't want to be found.
* * *
Fifteen years later, Sabnock found herself working for NYPD as a bomb specialist. Changing the records on her background was a simple matter for a demoness. She could always make the documents reflect whatever facts she wanted and change her appearance enough to make sure she wasn't recognized if she ever ran into anyone from her past.
Putting on her uniform, she stared blankly at the image in the mirror. As much as she wanted to, she could never bring herself to change her hair color or style. That was perhaps the one weakness in her appearance that could give her away. Still, if anyone asked, she didn't look a day over 30 and had her records to back her up. Lynara Sabnock no longer existed. She was Brandy Sabnock, no relation. Her fellow officers called her Red.
"You going to the New Year's party next week?" Sylvia asked, slamming her locker shut.
"Nah. I never liked those things. I'll probably stay home."
"You are sooo predictable. I just won fifty bucks."
"How's that?" Sabnock asked, snapping her utility belt around her waist.
"The guys bet me you'd either show up at the party or be out with some hot chick."
"You'd think they'd know better by now. They've been making that bet for the last three years."
"I love suckers who never learn. So, considering I'm going to be fifty bucks richer, you want to meet me for a few drinks after we get off? My treat."
"Sure, as long as something doesn't come up. Catch ya later."
Grabbing her hat, Sabnock strolled away, her long legs giving her a natural grace. Several officers, male and female, stopped what they were doing to watch her. Sylvia shook her head, wishing she could attract that sort of attention.
CHAPTER 19
THE DIVORCE had been ugly. His wife had gotten custody of the kids and alimony. Furious, he swore she'd never get a dime. In fact, if everything worked out, he'd still be able to collect on the insurance policy he was maintaining on her. Karen was going to have a very nasty accident, the victim of a terrorist bombing. Kenny just loved the thought of the Muslims getting blamed for his ex's death. He hated anyone and anything that he didn't consider a red-blooded American.
The bomb was easier to make than he imagined, thanks to some information he had acquired from a radical militia group. They were more than willing to teach him everything he needed to know once they realized he was as patriotic as they. Three weeks at their base camp in West Virginia was enough to make him proficient at putting together small, remote-controlled bombs that could be activated by a timer or a cell phone call. Kenny had chosen the cell phone. It gave him a better opportunity to make sure Karen was in her classroom.
The school was three miles from where he lived. Everyone knew who he was so they didn't think too much about him showing up to talk to Karen. She had never told anyone about what an asshole he really was, although some suspected. Perhaps if she had, someone would have stopped and questioned him a little more, instead of taking his word that Karen had asked him to deliver some reading material she had forgotten to her classroom.
The room was empty. Everyone was at lunch. Pushing aside some supplies tucked away in a cabinet, he gently placed the bomb on the shelf and then put some papers on top of it. Shutting the door, he smirked.
Mess with me, bitch! I told you I'd get even! he thought. Walking from the room, hands in his pockets, he whistled cheerfully to himself. Several teachers gave him a strange look but didn't say anything.
Karen was having lunch with three other teachers when an aide let her know her ex-husband was on the premises.
"Damn!"
"Everything okay?" Jilly, a close friend and fellow associate, asked.
"It's Kenny. He's here."
"What the hell does that jerk want?"
"I don't know but it can't be good. Be a dear and call Frank. He was supposed to get that restraining order."
"Well, if he's like the other attorneys I know, it's still sitting on his desk, but I'll check. Want me to come along just in case?"
"No, Kenny talks a good threat but for the most part he's harmless. I just wanted the court order to keep him away from the kids and me. He can be a real pain sometimes and Sandy and Travis are scared to death of him."
"Their own father?"
"Kenny doesn't know the meaning of the word. The only reason he fought for custody was to keep from paying the child support and to piss me off."
"So why'd you ever marry the creep?"
"It's a long story. Maybe I'll tell you one day when we have time. Right now, I'd better go see what he wants."
Kenny was waiting for Karen on the school steps outside the main entrance. When she finally arrived, he tossed his lit cigarette down and stepped on it.
"About time you got here," he hissed.
"What do you want, Kenny?"
"I want to know why you got that fuckin' restraining order against me. How am I supposed to visit the kids?"
"Call me and we'll meet somewhere, with a police escort, of course."
Looking around to see if anyone was in hearing distance, he grinned when he found it was just Karen and him.
"Well, baby, I'll tell you what. You just keep pissing me off and I'll have to show you how a real man treats his woman."
"I know how a real man treats a woman. Maybe one day you'll be that real man, Kenny, but you sure as hell aren't one now. Is that the only reason you came here? Because if it is, I'm calling the police. It's about time you realized you can't always have your way."
Glaring ominously at her, Kenny decided he had better leave.
"Call them. You don't scare me and neither do they. Now shouldn't you be getting back to the kiddies before they tear up your room?"
"You know I don't have class for another hour-and-a-half. Geez, Kenny. You are so fucked up you can't even remember the easy stuff."
Turning her back on him, she walked into the building without looking back.
"Oh, I remember," he smirked. "I remember everything." Looking at his watch, he grinned. Only three more hours and the kids would be gone, leaving just Karen in the classroom. He had debated on whether to set the bomb off while they were present or wait. He had decided that waiting was a better solution. He really didn't want to be responsible for anyone else's death, just his ex-wife's. Besides, if he set the bomb off too soon, someone might connect his visit to the explosion.
After leav
ing Kenny, Karen went to the principal's office to tell Mr. Johnston what was going on. She had deliberately tried to keep her private life just that, but now realized it was a mistake. Stopping outside the door, she ran into the teacher Kenny had talked to just before entering the school.
"Hey, Karen, did Kenny get a hold of you? He's got those books you forgot."
"What books?" she asked, frowning.
"The ones for your assignment. I saw him about thirty minutes ago and he said you asked him to bring them."
Karen could feel her heart pounding.
"What did he do with them?"
"Oh, I saw him going into your classroom with them. I guess you missed each other. Well, gotta run. See you later."
"Shit!" she muttered under her breath, trying to think clearly. "What the hell is he up to?"
Shaking her head, she knocked on the door and heard a loud voice yell for her to come in.
"Sorry for interrupting your lunch, Mr. Johnston, but I think we may have a problem."
Quickly outlining the details of her meeting with Kenny and her conversation with her associate, she voiced her concerns about her ex-husband's actions.
"Maybe we'd better go check the room," he suggested.
Everything looked normal. Nothing was out of place or changed around since going to lunch. Pulling open her desk drawers, she shuffled the files nervously. Then she looked under and inside each student desk while the principal checked the cabinets. Relieved, she looked at the principal.
"Sorry, Mr. Johnston, maybe I'm just paranoid."
"No problem, Karen. It's better to be safe than sorry."
It was when she walked past the last cabinet near her desk that she noticed several books on the windowsill. Frowning, she tried to remember why they would be there instead of inside one of the cabinets.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
"I'm not sure." Picking up the books, she turned them over and looked at the titles. "I'm sure I kept these in the cabinet."
When she opened the door, she noticed several objects had been shifted and documents placed at odd angles. Hand shaking, she gently picked up the papers and immediately spotted a small, brown, nylon bag pushed against the back wall. Heart pounding, she inhaled and then slowly exhaled. Her hands trembled slightly as she backed slowly toward the door, trying to remain calm.
"Clear the building," she whispered, afraid that speaking in a normal tone would set the bomb off. "I think the bastard planted a bomb in here."
CHAPTER 20
SABNOCK RECEIVED the bomb call with only two hours of work left. The day had been slow and she was almost grateful for the break in boredom. Still, she wasn't looking forward to this incident, since she was the trained bomb specialist.
By the time she arrived at the school, everyone had been evacuated and the building was surrounded by policemen, firemen, paramedics and the press. Sabnock hated the press. They were the one group that could cause her some heartburn if her picture ever appeared in a newspaper or magazine.
Making sure her hat was pulled low over her forehead and her sunglasses firmly in place, she pushed through the crowd, keeping her head down. As she neared the police barricade, she heard someone call out to her.
"Sabnock? Hey, Sabnock, is that you?"
Looking around she spotted a man in his early forties, shoving his way toward her carrying a camera. A woman was following close behind, trying to avoid the bodies being pushed around.
"Sabby, we hunted all over for you," he exclaimed, smiling brightly.
"I'm sorry, do I know you?" she asked, instantly recognizing Squirrel from her time in Afghanistan.
"It's me, Squirrel," he said, patting her on the back.
Taking off her sunglasses, she stared blankly at him.
"Do I know you?"
Squirrel stepped back and bumped into his companion. Confused, he shook his head as if trying to clear is mind. His Sabnock had green eyes. This woman had blue eyes and was no more than thirty.
"Gosh, officer, I thought you were someone I knew a long time ago."
Glancing at her name tag, he frowned.
"You don't by chance have an older sister or cousin do you?"
"Not that I know of. Why?"
"Well, it's just that you look so much like Sabby and she had the same last name as you... not to mention red hair. If you were about fourteen or fifteen years older, I'd swear you were her."
"Look, I'm sorry I wasn't this Sabby person, but I have a job to do. Good luck in finding her."
Sabnock turned and stepped past several police officers, leaving Squirrel behind. Renewing old acquaintances was impossible. There'd be too many questions and no good answers.
"She wasn't this Sabby person?" his companion asked, tugging on his arm to get his attention.
"No," he replied sadly. "I wish she had been. The guys owed her a lot."
"Well, maybe one day you'll find her. Right now, though, we have a story to do. The boss expects us to take some good pictures for the six o'clock news."
Squirrel nodded. Now wasn't the time for nostalgia.
"Where's the bomb?" Sabnock asked the cop at the school entrance.
"Inside. Mac will show you. Your gear is inside."
"Thanks."
Other than Mac, the school was empty. Her bomb suit was sitting outside the classroom door, along with a helmet with a ballistic shield, special gloves and a built in cooling system. Putting on each section, she strapped everything as tight as she could, making sure there was little chance of something coming loose. After everything was secured, she told Mac to take off. If the bomb exploded before she could disarm it, the chances were the suit wouldn't keep her from being injured. If the explosives were powerful enough, it could even kill her.
Sabnock shuffled into the room and walked to the cabinet. The brown bag looked harmless enough but she wasn't fooled. Because of its size, there was a good chance it contained C4, a plastic explosive that was so powerful, a small amount could destroy several rooms.
Taking her time, she examined as many sides of the bag as possible. No wires or switches were visible. She hoped that meant the bottom was clear also. If it contained a pressure switch the moment she moved the bag, the bomb would be activated. Had the bomber placed the package on a lower shelf she would have called in the bomb-bot to remove it.
Placing the bag she had brought into the room with her, Sabnock slowly unzipped it and pulled out a large, flat, spatula-looking device. Hopefully, she could slip it under the package without activating any pressure switches. Carefully, she slid it under the bag, making sure her movements were slow and precise. Whenever she felt it hit something, she held her breath and stopped, waiting and listening. When nothing happened, she inched it a little further.
Sabnock knew she could use her powers to examine the contents but refused the temptation. Where was the challenge if she didn't play by the rules she had established long ago. She didn't just want to play human, she wanted to feel what they felt or at least as close to it as possible.
Today was the first time she had ever broken into a legitimate sweat, not the phony ones she had faked to keep others from being suspicious while in stressful situations. Even her heart pounded so loudly she could hear it beating.
So this is what it feels like. This is the fear they have to live with.
The thought was overwhelming. Sabnock had spent thousands of years hoping to experience almost all that was human. Her greatest achievement had been love. It was also her greatest loss. There had been moments of sadness, longing, joy, regret and many other emotions but never fear — until now. Why now?
The answer eluded her, but the fear was real.
Sabnock felt her hands trembling and released the grip on the slidebar. Looking curiously at the sweaty palms, she rubbed them together and then dried them on a rag. A voice from outside distracted her.
"Sabnock, you okay?"
"Mac, get the hell out of here," she yelled. "And you pull this trick again
, I'll have you transferred to meter maid. Didn't anyone warn you not to sneak up on someone trying to deactivate a bomb?"
"Sorry. It was taking so long, I thought you might need something."
"No, but thanks. Now leave. It'll probably be another thirty minutes before I decide what to do with this thing."
Warrior Demoness - TI6 Page 12
