A Path of Oak and Ash

by M. P. Reeves

  "Like I said, strike team has not checked in. Could be, could not be. Since this 'team' was above our pay grade we aren't privy to their dental, print or dna records. Not that it matters, ME says all four vanished. He's got only dirt and oil in his freezer."

  "Do you have the camera surveillance from the area?" If he couldn't engage directly, he wanted eyes on the ground and in the air.

  "We were able to pull from a four block radius." Joseph had already guessed that based on the massive file clutched in his tubby little arms.

  "And?" His impatience multiplying as he took drag from the hand rolled. Jesus this is going to be a long meeting, he thought to himself. Goddamned IT people are as skittish as deer.

  "Look at this." After a bit of fumbling, he set an eight by ten photo on his desk. The black and white still showed a girl with short dark hair walking down the street, her face turned from the camera, body partially obscured by a larger man who was standing between her and the road. Her facial structure was undeniable. Elizabeth Waters was alive and well.

  He cursed, the words leaving his lips in a fog of smoke. "Get me Frost. Now." Mr. Johnson barked.

  The pair of analysts shifted their feet, refusing to make eye contact.

  The one with the accent finally spoke. "That was the other item." More throat clearing. "Sir...Vincent Frost was found dead in his apartment. From the looks of it...he has been dead for a significant time frame."

  "Five months." Chimed in the sweaty one, his hand darting up to re-adjust his glasses again.

  "Out." There was no emotion in the command as he stubbed out the butt in the glass tray to his left.

  "Sir, there is a positive though, we were able to trace the male's point of entry to a regional airport with the flight originating in Scotland. If you just give us a little more time we-"

  Jaw clenched, Joseph did everything possible to maintain his calm. In his younger days he would have shot them both to shed his frustration. Even now the thought of it was tempting. He leaned forward in his chair, hovering his hand over the silver plated custom revolver on his desk. "Get out. Now." For a pair of overweight data analysts, they certainly managed to hobble from the room with surprising speed.

  His hand shifted from hovering above the .45 to the cigarette holder beside it. Plucking another stick from the case he lit it with a steady hand. Inhale. Exhale. His nerves steadied while he watched the smoke hang in the dimly lit air all around him. Visible yet intangible, a microcosm of his current endeavors if there ever was one.

  Joseph Johnson picked up the phone, dialing the number he was given upon his promotion and subsequent relocation. Never one to beat around the bush he rattled off exactly what had happened, verbatim.

  "The imposter is of little consequence." His employer spoke in the King's English, his alto voice velvet yet sinister. "Complete your task, secure the targets."

  "And if they manage to go off grid?"

  "Do not worry. I will ensure they remain attainable." The feminine laugh in the background stood the hair up on the back of his neck, echoing in his ears long after the call had been terminated.

  39

  Sitting in the back corner booth with his nose buried in today's paper was Aurelian. Partially eaten strawberry crepe to his right, a freshly topped off cup of coffee in his hand.

  Carrick marveled at the small man from the outside window as they approached the diner. Here they were, broken and bloody, barely keeping it together and he was having a luncheon. Erik had told him once that whisperer's typically were noncombatants and that earned them animosity from time to time from their peers. Well, Carrick was definitely feeling it at the moment.

  Erik, Conall, Aodhan had escaped with him out the front moments before the explosion took the building. Carrick only prayed that Tadhg had made it out the back with Quin and Liz. The redhead had taken very nasty looking wounds to his torso. Carrick was worried for him. Really worried. He had meant to grab him, to make sure they both made it out in one piece, but the grenade that went off prior to the big boom had tossed him by the door and knocked the back of his head. If it hadn't been for Aodhan grabbing his arm, he probably would have burned himself.

  Seeing stars was the least of his current injuries, in the tussle with the fell Carrick had broken at least two ribs, fractured his ulna and taken a good shot to the eye. His natural accelerated healing was doing its part, after Conall helped him set his arm he could feel it begin to knit the wound, however it wasn't an instant fix. He would still show, and feel, his injuries for a good two weeks. He wasn't the only one. Erik was still walking with a limp from the rot curse. Aodhan had burns on his back and shoulders, even lost part of his mahogany hair from the fire. Conall seemed void of injury yet his body was covered in the blood of others. All in all it took every ounce of strength they had left to hold on to their ruse of jeans and tee-shirts, less their bloody broken appearance horrify the hamburger eating humans.

  A small chime greeted them to the Sock Hop Shake Shop, their thoughts immediately drowned out by the Monkeys pouring from the jukebox by the counter. A chalkboard sign requested that they seat themselves, so they did. Shambling towards the back off tempo to the upbeat tunes.

  "What the hell was that?" Conall hissed as he sat down, resting his hands on the boomerang patterned red lacquer tabletop. "Fell in such numbers..."

  "That," Aurelian paused to take a sip of coffee, "was what happens when you idiots are loosed upon the world."

  "How dare-"

  "Silence." Erik hissed, taking a seat next to Aurelian.

  "See when you travel in a particular path without making the appropriate arrangements you provoke all the little snakes in the garden. They see you, the large portly rabbit hopping along, blissfully unaware you are being watched from every vantage point until the moment comes to strike." Aurelian eyed each of them with disapproval. "We use Mimi for a reason you self-serving juvenile degenerates." Aurelian closed his eyes briefly, letting out a curse under his breath. "There is no going home right now."

  "Why?"

  Aurelian pointed to the mounted tube TV above the diner's bar. The reporter was standing at the edge of what appeared to be a hurricane, rain battering the camera and poor woman on screen. He wondered momentarily if all that electric equipment was safe when it was exposed to so much water. Surely they'd thought of that long before he did. His brow dipped at the words that appeared under the reporter, Miss Ellen McLaine was reporting live from Glasgow, Scotland. Carrick read the subtitles on the news cast, his mood darkening further. "A storm unlike any that has hit the island since 1703, as many as three hundred people are presumed dead. It will be days before the wreckage can be combed." The screen flashed from the on-scene reporter back to the brightly illuminated news room. "In national news, Congress will vote today on the Transoceanic Pipeline that-"

  "Whatta ya have boys?" Their glum moment was interrupted by Susie, according to her nametag. Her bright pink lipstick matched the piping on her snug turquoise and pink fifties style shirt dress, even had pink strings in her white sneakers. Carrick fumbled with the menu, his eyes had been so focused on the TV he hadn't even bothered to see what they had.

  "Coffee please." Erik ordered.

  "Okay, and you sir?" Her eyes fell on Conall, a bit of blush creeping into her cheeks despite their visual age difference. If only she'd known Conall was actually far older than she was.

  "They'll all just have coffee if you would Susie." Aurelian answered for him in his typical cheer. Carrick quietly closed his menu, wishing the small man would have ordered cheeseburgers. He waited for the waitress to read back the order or respond, but she just stood there.

  "Did you get that Susie?" Aurelian prompted.

  She blinked quickly for a moment, a slight blush spreading across her cheeks while her professional smile returned. "You got it chief." Scrawling a few words on her pad she nodded, tucking the pen in her blond ponytail then bounded away.

  "What was that about?" Carrick mused aloud.

/>   "Conall has that effect on the ladies, not that he ever uses it." Aodhan teased the stoic druid.

  "No, it’s the blood on your face." Erik glowered. Carrick's eyes widened as he noticed Conall's skin. It was odd to view, one moment Conall looked perfectly fine, then parts of his face would shift into the bloody battered truth beneath his renaissance features for but the blink of an eye before returning to his typical serene visage. If the waitress had seen that...

  Conall touched his cheek, "I am sorry. I am having trouble holding onto my rouse, I do not mean to fail us." Conall looked ashamed, something Carrick had never seen.

  Erik's harsh tone lessened. "You are just exhausted, as we all are. Go in the bathroom, clean up. Then you do not have to hide." With his typical grace, Conall rose and excused himself to the bathroom.

  Carrick continued to read the words on the monitor as they sat in silence awaiting their beverages. All travel had been suspended. A known bank robber had just been apprehended. Some dog learned to walk a tight rope while balancing a beach ball on his nose. Oh how he had missed American fluff news. By the time the chipper blond reporter began to recount the top stories of the hour he began to worry. "They should be here by now." Carrick grumbled, scanning the empty street outside.

  "I have the upmost confidence that Quin has kept my dear Bethany safe." Aurelian waved a hand, sipping his coffee. With a hand, he waived down the waitress and ordered everyone a cheeseburger and fries, all medium-well. Exactly what Carrick wanted, making him wonder if whisperers had some sort of telepathic ability. If so, he was going to have to seriously rein in his thoughts around the man.

  Susie came back with their cups and a fresh pot of black Columbian ground just before Conall returned from the bathroom.

  "Lorcan doesn't want us to get the book back to Dre'ien." Aodhan broke the silence, swirling the cup around in his hands.

  "Indeed. This is a bold move. Even for him. We must be very, very careful from this point forth." Erik folded his arms over his chest, frowning.

  Carrick noticed he had yet to make eye contact with him. It was like a game of cat and mouse to an extent, if he looked towards his uncle, his eyes would divert elsewhere. A telling sign of how much trouble he was in whenever they got home.

  Susie returned with the food shortly after, piping hot and full of grease. It had been so long since Carrick had eaten this type of fare he'd expected it to fill him with nostalgia and leave him wanting seconds. Instead it felt grainy, heavily salted on his tongue, the grease seemed to slide down his throat and sit heavy in his belly. It left him feeling more disgusted than satisfied. Still with each bite he eyed the clock then the door. Still no Liz.

  The waitress had started clearing plates when the cheerful ring of the chime announced the departure or arrival of patrons. A tall dark-haired man walked in beside a pretty girl with messy short dark hair, grass stains on her knees and wide eyes. Carrick raised a hand in a wave, happy to see both smile in return.

  "Was starting to worry." He said, standing to give Liz-Bethany-a quick hug. She smelled of soot and yard clippings.

  "I wasn't." Aurelian quipped.

  "Is Tadhg not with you?" Aodhan asked, paling.

  Quin shook his head sadly. "No. Only the two of us made it out the back."

  The fog of sadness that hung over them made the cheerful jukebox tune feel insulting. When the last note of the crooner’s ballad stopped, the record stuck, preventing the next song.

  "Oh darn it, it always does that." One of the other waitresses complained, fiddling with the machine. Somewhere outside the diner, the sorrow filled howl of wolves echoed.

  "Are you hungry Bethany?" Carrick asked quietly. She shook her head no, eyes locked on the patterned tabletop. Erik and Quin spoke quietly on the situation in Iona while the other's remained silent in their grief for the lost. Admittedly Carrick had not known Tadhg long, not even a full year, yet he felt the loss all the same. Kind hearted and always willing to do for others he was a shining example for the kind of person he strove to be. In many ways, Carrick blamed himself for his untimely death, had he not asked for help...

  "What's the plan then?" Quin asked loudly, raising him from his brooding.

  "Well we can't stay here." Aodhan retorted.

  The whisperer pointed out the window to the street. "Worry not my friends, like always, I have plan B ready and awaiting." As he spoke a large silver charter bus pulled up in front of the diner. Without a word to those assembled, Aurelian stood and exited the diner, disappearing up the bus steps. Quin paid their tab with a couple wadded up twenties as the others rushed to follow.

  The large charter bus was impressive, the kind of thing you see dozens of old ladies with cameras and kitten sweaters climb into on their way to the Grand Canyon. The seats seemed plush, there were televisions overhead and a bathroom in the back. Aurelian, Bethany and Quin settled in on one side while Carrick and Aodhan sat across from them. Erik took over for the driver who was dismissed with a handful of 'incentive' pay, Conall sat up front right behind him.

  "How do you afford all this?" Bethany mused aloud while the men settled in.

  "Many years ago I happened upon an alchemist who was successful at his craft."

  Bethany snorted at Aurelian. "Really, a man that could turn metal into gold?"

  "Anything really; shoes, spoons, clothes. They made quite a tale about him once upon a time."

  "Is it really so fetched for you?" The dark druid whispered to her.

  Bethany shrugged. "Just contradictory to everything I've been raised to believe."

  Quin smirked, "at the heart of every belief, is a lie."

  Carrick frowned, he did not like the way Quin was sitting so close to her. For someone who loathed humans his eyes lingered on her smile longer than they should have, his tone was too non-Quin for his liking. Further, Bethany seemed to be eating it up. Her cheeks flushed, eyes dropped to her hands just as soon as he had finished speaking. Her hands...Carrick noticed with alarm how many scabs and bruises were fading from her wrists to her finger tips. Her nails, once so perfectly polished and long were ragged and partially removed. It wasn't just her hands. Now that the shock of her survival had worn off, he was able to observe her in depth. She'd lost weight, her smile once freely given seemed forced, even her breathing seemed shallow. Her neckline once hidden by long hair was visible it made her seem so thin, breakable even. He frowned, as she turned to listen to something Aurelian said faint bruising across that fragile skin came into view.

  "What happened to you?" Carrick demanded loudly, cutting off the conversation in progress. All eyes immediately focused on him, Starless growled. He didn't care. He wanted answers and he wanted them right now.

  When Bethany didn't speak, the dwarf did. "Perhaps now is not the best time for-"

  Carrick pointed a finger at Aurelian. "Quiet. I asked her." He turned his intensity back to the girl, trying to dial back his anger. "Liz...please. Talk to me."

  "I knew you didn't do it. The terrible things on the television, in the paper..." She took a deep breath. "Those reporters circled my house every day, spitting filth about you, trying to make me seem like some kind of serial killer's mistress. Each one promising a special with a more in depth look at the monster that was Richard Smith. It was hell, doubly so as I knew you wouldn't...couldn't do those things. I remember the look on your face when you saved me. That day at the seven eleven? Do you remember? You were so determined, so strong, even when you didn't look it. I told myself that day that you were a good guy and a good guy didn't do the things they said. A good guy couldn't." She ran her fingers through her hair. "Sorry I'm rambling, eventually I convinced Matt we should go check it out. What we found confirmed my theory, your place was fine, and the apartment down the hall was ruined." She laughed darkly. "That's where I found the damned book, in a hole in the wall of all places. I researched the crap out of it over the next week, trying to determine the language or what it could be. Came up empty every time. To be honest it had star
ted to give me the creeps, I knew I should turn it into the police but I didn't trust them. How could I with the lies on TV? So I did the only thing I could, I hid it. At least until I came up with a better plan."

  "Then what." Carrick pressed, rage boiling inside of him. He knew reporters could be bloodthirsty, yet in all the scenarios after his departure he never imagined them hounding Liz. She didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve any of it.

  "Dad asked me to go for a jog with him, so I did." Tears welled in the corner of her blue eyes, Quin shifted in his seat. "About four blocks down from our house this black windowless van pulled up in front of us. All these men climbed out waiving around badges and barking orders. My Dad stood up to them and they killed him for it." She exhaled, her shoulders sagged. "I was drugged and they took me with them."

  "Where? Where did they take you?" The words barely came out through his clenched jaw.

  "I was locked in a prison in Guatemala," her voice became monotone, "I was repeatedly interrogated and tortured over a period of time, my fingers were broken, my ribs too. I was water boarded, shocked with a Taser and choked..." She paused, pursing her lips. "I can't tell you how long I was there, partially because I do not want to know myself." Bethany tucked her walnut hued locks behind her ears, the left side fell free instantly. "When they thought they had everything they needed from me, I was to be killed. But someone got me out. Sent me to Aurelian." Her eyes flicked up to the man to her right. "He saved my life. No, he gave me a new one."

  "Liz, I am so sorry. This is all my fault...if you didn't know me I-"

  "Liz is dead." She cut him off. "My name is Bethany, and you owe me no apology."

  Silence hung in the bus for some time, everyone watching the landscape roll by in quiet reflection. It seemed they were heading north out of the city.

  "Rick...there is something else." She spoke quietly, as they turned onto the highway. "It was your Mom who ordered them to kill me."

  At that moment, everything within Carrick paused. The scenery changed as the bus continued on down the road, a blur of nondescript buildings and signs that Carrick couldn't see.