Angels Scream (Echo Team Book 2)

by Joseph Hutton

  No wonder Cade missed her so.

  Riley flipped the light back off and was turning away when a flash outside the window caught his attention. Crossing the room, he pulled back the edge of the curtain and looked out.

  An old shed stood at the rear of the property and even from here Riley could see the light spilling out of the partially-open door. The faint memory of a conversation in which Cade mentioned his workshop swam up from the depths of his mind and he knew that must be what he was looking at. The fact that there were lights on eased his tension somewhat; perhaps Cade was home after all.

  Riley left the bedroom behind, descended the stairs and made his way to the kitchen again where he’d noticed a back door earlier. Opening it, he left the house behind, crossed the yard, and approached the workshop.

  He called out again as he did so. “Hey Cade! You in there?”

  There was no answer.

  Up close, he realized the workshop was much bigger than it had first appeared from the bedroom window. It was actually more a barn than a shed, the darkened window high above the door indicative of a second-story. Riley inserted his hand into the opening between the double doors and pushed. The door rolled open on its well-oiled track without a sound.

  Light spilled out into the darkness.

  Riley cautiously stepped inside.

  He could see immediately that the entire structure had been gutted and rebuilt, turning the lower floor into a well-furnished study. What had once been horse stables was now a large, open room with bookshelves lining the walls and several work tables arranged in a semi-circle facing toward the door. A wood-burning stove stood in the far corner, its thick black pipe running up through the floor of the second story high above.

  He walked into the room, leaving the door open behind him, in case he had to get out in a hurry. “Hello? Is anyone here?” he called but again was met with silence.

  He moved over to the closest table. It held several books, a pad of paper, and a mug of half-drunk coffee. A glance inside the cup showed that the cream had begun to curdle, giving Riley the sense that it had stood there untouched for several days. In fact, the whole place had that feeling of emptiness, as if events had been abruptly interrupted.

  On the other side of the tables, he could see that a large mirror had been bolted to the floor in the semi-circle space between them. That seems a strange place for it, Riley thought, for it would easy for someone to forget it was there and step right on it.

  Step right on it…

  Riley moved over to the other tables, a sudden suspicion flaring. They were covered in books, many of which were propped open to certain pages. He could tell they were old by just looking at them, their pages yellowed, the script elaborate and in many cases decorated with symbols and other illustrations. One table had a stool placed before it and Riley correctly assumed this was where Cade had been working last.

  Only a single volume rested atop this one. A glance at the text told him he wouldn’t be able to understand a word of it; he recognized the strange script as Enochian, the language of the angels, but that was as far as he got. The pages of notes stacked beside it, on the other hand, appeared to be Cade’s English translation. He leafed through several of them, noting that the subject matter dealt with the powers of fallen angels and the ways in which one might bind them to your service. It wasn’t exactly the type of thing you’d expect a knight of the Order to be reading, yet Riley wasn’t surprised. Cade would go anywhere, do anything, to understand what had happened to him and his wife on that summer night seven years ago. Reading a few forbidden texts were the least of his sins. But this one might just offer some clue as to where Cade had gone.

  Riley knew that Cade was convinced that the Adversary, that supernatural entity that had murdered his wife and given Cade some unusual gifts, was in fact a fallen angel. Cade also believed that both the spirit of his dead wife, Gabrielle, and the Adversary could be found in the Beyond, that mysterious purgatory-like realm that existed somewhere between this one and the next. One of the strange powers the Adversary had given to Cade was the ability to travel into and out of that place.

  And he got there by stepping through the surface of a mirror.

  A glance back down at the floor showed him something he’d missed the first time around. A long black case with silver clasps had been pushed beneath one of the tables. Retrieving it, Riley ran his fingers over the supple leather covering it and then threw open the three small clasps.

  The space where Cade’s blessed sword usually rested was empty.

  The pieces of the puzzle were starting to click into place: Cade’s inability to return phone calls or pages, his empty sword case, the books on understanding and controlling angels, the workshop with the mirror inlaid in the floor.

  Cade was in the Beyond, Riley was all but certain of it.

  From where he stood, Riley could see that the old hay loft above had undergone some changes. It had been walled off into its own enclosed room, with a set of simple wooden steps leading up to a door at this end.

  Considering he’d looked everywhere else, he might as well check that out too, he thought, just to be on the safe side, though he was convinced he’d solved the problem.

  He climbed the steps and opened the door.

  Glass crunched underfoot.

  At the sound, Riley went still; one foot inside the partially opened door, his hand still on the doorknob.

  He stared into the darkness ahead of him, listening.

  No other sound reached his ears.

  Once again, he was convinced he was alone.

  He pushed the door open wide and stepped inside the room, reaching out for the light switch.

  The darkness was banished by a dazzling display of light that was far brighter than he had expected. It was as if that single light bulb was multiplied a thousand times over. Riley was forced to turn away, shading his eyes as he waited for his vision to adjust, his skin crawling as he realized that he was all but helpless should something choose that moment to take advantage of him.

  But nothing did.

  Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he took a careful look around. What he saw raised his anxiety to new levels.

  The room was drowning in mirrors.

  Broken, shattered mirrors.

  They were everywhere; on the floor, on the walls, on the small table by the doorway. Not a single one was intact, though a few fragile pieces remained hanging resolutely in some of the frames. Most of the glass was scattered across the floor, as if the mirrors had exploded from the inside out.

  Riley’s suspicions were confirmed.

  Traveling to and from the Beyond required incredible amounts of physical energy. Though he’d never been there himself, Riley had observed Cade making the trip a time or two and was at least conversational with the details. Truth be told, you’d never get him to voluntarily cross that line. The tales of the strange and twisted creatures encountered by Cade during his explorations were enough to quench any curiosity he might have, thank you very much. He didn’t need to see them for himself.

  But he’d learned enough through talking with Cade to understand that each and every trip through the barrier, or the Veil, was draining on the traveler. Time and distance were different on the other side and hours there could translate into days here. Should a visitor stay too long, he might find himself dehydrated, famished, even weeks or months older when he returned.

  Repeat trips, particularly in a short time frame, were extremely dangerous.

  From the number of shattered mirrors before him, it appeared the Commander had made dozens of trips across the Veil recently.

  That amount of travel was damn near suicidal.

  Just what in heaven had he been thinking?

  As Riley turned away to descend the stairs, a loud crash sounded from the room below.

  Aiming his gun, Riley looked out the doorway.

  The body of a man lay crumpled beside the now-shattered mirror in the center of the room. Even
from here Riley recognized him. Cade’s eyes were wide open and he didn’t appear to be breathing.

  Riley rushed down the stairs and over to his side. Kneeling, he placed his fingers against Cade’s throat while his eyes scanned the rest of the room, just in case something had followed Cade back from the other side. Riley was able to find a pulse, but only after checking for it twice, and even then its threadbare nature was not encouraging.

  There were no visible wounds on Cade’s body, but he was clearly in bad shape. He’d lost an incredible amount of weight, so much so that his clothing hung off of him. His skin was a nasty shade of yellow and was stretched tight across his bones, as if his skeleton was trying to force itself through to the other side. Riley was reminded of the mummified remains he’d once seen in the Natural History Museum.

  No one alive should ever look like this.

  Knowing Cade was beyond the limited medical assistance that was his to give, Riley pulled out his cell phone. He dialed a ten digit number from memory and when the phone was answered on the other end he identified himself, gave his location, and indicated the need for immediate medical extraction for a senior commander.

  After hanging up, he gently gathered Cade in his arms and lifted him, dismayed at how light he was. He made his way out of the workshop, across the lawn, and back inside the house, taking up a position in the living room by the front window, listening and waiting for the helicopter he knew was on its way. He tried not to think about Cade’s condition or the minutes slipping quickly past. The medical team would get here in time or it would not. It was all in the Lord’s hands.

  Riley bowed his head in prayer.

  As the first faint sounds of the approaching chopper finally reached him, he felt Cade shift in his arms. He looked down and was surprised to find his commanding officer looking up at him through his one good eye.

  “I’ve got to find her, Matt. I’ve got to find her.”

  The sound of his voice, so full of pain and desperate need, filled the big man’s heart with sorrow. He struggled to speak past the sudden lump in his throat and finally settled for a short, “I know, boss.”

  Cade slipped back into unconsciousness, which was fine with Riley. He didn’t need any further explanation anyway; Cade could only be speaking of one person.

  His dead wife.

  Gabrielle.

  Chapter Four

  Riley was waiting in the corridor outside of Cade’s hospital room when his teammates arrived. After returning the charter boat, the two men took a puddle jumper flight into Miami. There they changed planes and flew directly to Boston, where an initiate brother met them with a car and drove them the last fifty miles to the commandery.

  “How is he?” Flynn asked.

  Riley shook his head. “Not good. He’s so malnourished and dehydrated that his body is basically eating itself from the inside out. The doc said it was pretty touch-and-go there for awhile. Another day and he wouldn’t have made it, hospital or not. For now, it’s wait and see.”

  The big sergeant went on to explain how he and Cade had been picked up by helicopter and flown to the nearest Connecticut commandery, only to have the medical officer there decide Cade’s condition was dire enough to transfer him to the Order’s primary hospital on the grounds of the Newport facility in Rhode Island.

  Which was where all four of them were now.

  Duncan glanced in through the open doorway to where Cade lay surrounded by a maze of life-support equipment. He was sleeping peacefully, but the sight of such a strong man laid so low was disquieting, to say the least.

  “Just what in heaven’s name did he think he was doing?” Flynn asked, clearly frustrated over his inability to do anything to help their friend.

  “He was looking for his wife,” Duncan answered absently, still staring at the Knight Commander.

  Silence fell and when he turned away from the doorway to face the others he found them staring at him.

  “What do you know about that?” Riley asked, and with his tone Duncan was abruptly reminded that he was still the outsider here. There was curiosity, but also more than a hint of protective anger in the big sergeant’s voice.

  Duncan answered without flinching. “I saw her. Or at least think I did.”

  “What? When?”

  “That night we found Stones’ body, at the safe house outside of Otter Lake.”

  Duncan remembered that evening with no small amount of trepidation. He and Cade had gone to see the head of the Custodes Veritatis, a secret faction within the Templar hierarchy that was responsible for defending the holy relics placed under the Order’s control, while Riley and Flynn had played rear guard, hoping to spot anyone who might be following them. They’d found Stone dead at the scene, an obvious victim of torture, and had then been ambushed by members of the Council of Nine that were intent on wresting the Spear of Longinus from the Order’s control. Unable to call for backup, they had escaped with their lives only by using Cade’s strange power to travel into the Beyond.

  The trip had only pulled them out of the frying pan and into the fire, however, for no sooner had they regained consciousness in that eerie mirror of reality than they had been set upon by ravenous packs of spectres. With their backs to a dark and unwelcoming sea, they’d had no choice but to stand and fight, despite being outnumbered significantly.

  In the end, it had been Cade’s dead wife that had saved them. Or so Cade believed.

  Duncan explained what he knew to the others.

  “Why didn’t you say something about this earlier?” Flynn pressed.

  Duncan snorted in disbelief. “Yeah, right. What did you want me to say? By the way guys, our illustrious commander thinks the ghost of his dead wife saved our asses while we were stuck on the other side of reality. Just thought you should know.”

  Riley and Flynn simply stared, not saying anything. Their silence made it obvious that, yes, that was exactly what they expected him to do.

  Flabbergasted, Duncan opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by the arrival of an initiate carrying a message for Riley. The Echo Team exec read the note and cursed once, softly.

  “What is it?” Flynn asked.

  “They’ve recalled the unit. Echo has a new assignment. We’re to assemble in the briefing room in thirty minutes.”

  “They can’t do this now! What about Cade?” Duncan asked.

  Riley looked pointedly through the doorway at Cade’s inert form. “As much as I hate to say it, it looks like we’re on our own for this.”

  The three men agreed to meet at the assigned time and went their separate ways. Riley followed the initiate down the hallway, asking questions of the younger man in a quiet voice, trying to learn all he could about the Preceptor’s mood before going to see him. Flynn headed for the barracks, intending on bringing the rest of the men up to speed on Cade’s condition and let them know about the recall.

  Which left Duncan alone. As the newest member of the unit, he didn’t have any pressing assignments and so had nowhere in particular to be until the briefing commenced.

  He glanced up and down the hallway. Seeing no one, he pulled open the door and slipped inside Cade’s room.

  The silence inside was broken only by the hiss of the ventilator and the occasional beep of the equipment monitoring Cade’s vital signs. Duncan spent several long moments standing next to Cade’s bed, staring down at him, his thoughts full of conflict. On more than one occasion he reached out to touch the injured man only to pull his hand back, remembering Cade’s admonition during their previous mission not to touch him under any circumstances.

  You could heal him.

  The thought came unbidden, but Duncan was honest enough to admit to himself that the idea had been tumbling around in the back of his mind ever since he'd set foot that fact once or twice since setting foot inside the room.

  Wouldn’t take much at all.

  And it wouldn’t; that was true. All he had to do was reach out and lay his hands on Cade’s body,
to think about his injuries fading away as though they’d never been.

  You’ve done it before, for people you didn’t even know.

  True again. He’d healed hundreds of strangers while overseas a few years back. And since that time he’d vowed never to use his “gift” again.

  But you broke that vow, didn’t you? You healed Sgt. Flynn when he was injured in that helicopter crash. And this man certainly isn’t a stranger; he’s your commanding officer.

  Duncan began to pace back and forth in front of Cade’s bed, his indecision practically a physical torment. The voice in the back of his head had been silent for years. In the wake of his disgrace in China, he decided that his gift was more a curse than a blessing and had fervently made up his mind that he would never again call on the peculiar power that lived inside of him. For months that voice had pushed and cajoled, whined and complained, but he’d held strong to his conviction until recently.

  And now here he was again.

  Duncan sighed, knowing there was only one action to take.

  With the hiss of the ventilator and the beeping of the heart monitor for company, Duncan got down on his knees in the middle of the room and began to pray.

  “Heavenly Father, I come to you now with a heavy heart…”

  After some time, Duncan finally came to a decision.

  He dreamed.

  Dreamed of a cold, grey sea that lapped at the shore of a grey beach, while a grey sun sank slowly down through a grey sky. He stood near the water’s edge, looking out over that grey expanse, waiting; though he knew not for what. A sense of expectation rose in his heart, an emotion that was certainly out of place in a setting such as this, yet it was undeniable and one he couldn’t ignore. He’d come here, to this time and place, wherever here might be, to...meet someone? See something?

  He didn’t know.

  But whatever it was, it was coming.

  As surely as he knew his own name, he knew that.

  And so he stood on that strange shoreline, stood and stared and hoped, as the sun sank below the horizon and darkness claimed the sea in its inky grasp.