by S. T. Boston
“I believe you,” came a slightly accented yet soft female voice from somewhere in the now empty conference room.
“Thanks,” replied Adam, placing the last of his things into the plastic container. “As I said if you want to purchase a signed copy I will be in the foyer shortly, or if you want your copy signed then I will be happy to oblige.” He clicked the handles down over the lid and collected it up off the floor.
“Just how many Earth-Breeds has Samuel Becker killed now, ten?” the voice replied, an air of nervous tension in its softness. Adam felt the hackles rise on the back of his neck, as if someone had just stomped carelessly over his grave. Clutching the box he whipped round and tried once again to glare through the light that still stung his eyes. Three rows from the back he could just make out the figure of a dark haired young woman, still sat firmly in her seat.
“I never wrote anything about that in the book,” he said warily, a nervous octave higher than he would have liked. Naturally there had been a number of things he'd left out. Their home town and the details about The Gift being another. If people took it seriously he didn't want some whack-job to try and find them, eager to test out either of their healing abilities. “Just who are you exactly?” His voice echoed through the now empty room, amplified by the PA system.
“Maya Tomenko,” she replied as Adam side stepped the stage lighting and hopped down off the temporary platform. He saw that Maya was a young woman in her mid to late twenties, her dark brown, and almost alabaster colour hair ran down over her shoulders, deepening her tanned complexion and somehow highlighting her granite grey eyes. She was smartly dressed in a three quarter length black jacket, beneath it Adam could just make out a white blouse. Her black trousers disappeared into the top of a pair of boots that came half way up her calves. “It's imperative that you listen to what I have to say, the survival of both you and your sister depend on it!” For a split second it felt to Adam as if someone had vacuumed all the air out of the room, he felt a struggled breath catch in his throat. The young woman sat, eyes fixed on him, pensive and trying to read his body language, her dark hair framing her tanned and smooth face.
“How do d-do y-you know th-this?” he finally managed to stammer, feeling his chest relax enough to let some much needed air in.
“Let's just say I'm someone who is not keen to end up on Sam Becker's kill list,” she said bluntly, her wide and somehow familiar grey eyes fixed intently on Adam, who still remained three rows back from her, plastic carry box tucked firmly under his arm.
“You're Earth-Breed?” he spat, his right hand feeling dead from how tightly he had hold of his plastic container.
“Was, I mean yes, but I'm no threat to you, I'm here to help.”
“Why the hell should I trust you?” he growled, the fear gradually subsiding into anger.
“Because if I was here to kill you I'd have been waiting silently outside your Aunt and Uncle's old house. I'm guessing that's where you're staying tonight,” she said calmly. “What with us being in Brighton, I'm guessing you don't plan to drive back up to London at this hour.” The mention of his Aunt and Uncle's took him off guard, the last surviving older members of his and Lucie's immediate family had been claimed like so many by The Reaper.
“How do you know about that?”
“There were a good few of them – us, left after the events at the Pyramid,” she began, her eyes looking a little distant. “Your names were known to the Earth-Breed who didn't die that night, it wasn't hard for them to find you.”
“If that's the case why didn't they come for us before? Why did they let Sam kill ten of their, I mean YOUR kind?”
“The first few were inevitable, the rest were seen as casualties of war,” she said coolly, as if she were discussing the weather. “We were also leaderless and directionless, laying low you might say. The few who remain have direction now, a leader. I don't have time to go into the finer details, either trust me and survive tonight, saving Lucie's life in the process, or, take your chances on your own and be dead or captured by first light.”
“What about Sam?”
“They know he is taking a target in France tonight. It may already be too late, they plan to take you all tonight.” She stood up and swept her dark hair back behind her shoulders. “Please Adam,” she continued a hint of panic now in her not so calm voice. “You're not the only one being hunted, I risked a lot to do this, I was on the team sent to capture you, only I had other plans, I will explain all once we are moving, time is short.”
“What's in it for you?” he asked sceptically, his brain working at warp speed to try and reason the fast developing events. His first concern was his sister, he hoped that Sam could handle whatever was coming. “And what the hell has Lucie got to do with it? She wasn't even involved.”
“She is your sister, six months ago she married Sam, they want to make you pay for what you both done, Adam, anyone in your family is fair game to him. There are also much bigger things in play here than you, but you three are his first concern,” fired back Maya, eyes looking hungrily at the exit. “You need to call Lucie,” she added, “I just pray the mobile phone network is functioning near her bar, if we stall any longer it will be too late.” Maya gave Adam a fleeting look before heading for the door, her long black coat tails trailing behind her.
“WAIT!” cried Adam, discarding the box full of notes and books on an empty chair, “They know she runs a bar now?”
“They know everything Adam.” Maya reached the door and flung it open, bathing herself in the light of the hotel foyer. “Do you have a car here?”
“Yes, parked across the street.” Adam ran three steps to catch up with her, brushing past the two slightly annoyed looking men in Jesus tee-shirts who were no doubt hankering for a book signing and chat.
“Good, give me the keys, I'll drive you need to call Lucie.” She shook her wrist up, exposing an expensive looking watch. “Shit!” she exclaimed. “You need to get her out of that bar, Adam. You need to do it NOW!”
Chapter 4
Lucie Becker tugged the receptacle free of the coffee machine and knocked the spent, ground beans out of the metal container and into a small waste bin to the side of the counter. Satisfied that it was empty, she stole another quick glance at her mobile phone, the tenth one in under a minute, and willed it to ring. He will call any minute, any minute now, she kept telling herself over and over in her head. Sam always called when he was away on a job, once the deed was done and he was back to safety he always called. Clipping the container back into the espresso machine, she picked up her annoyingly silent phone and hit the menu button, bringing it to life. The somewhat unreliable phone network was working; she even had five bars of reception, something that was somewhat of a miracle in these uncertain times. Hitting the volume button she double checked that it wasn't set to silent. It wasn't, but she knew that already. Just ring, she thought again, as if the mere power of thought would magically force the call through.
In the days that followed Adam and Sam's return home, during the time Adam had spent penning the events that had changed the modern world forever, Sam had practically moved into their family home in Eltham, London. It was no surprise to either Adam or Lucie as he never spent much time at his own place anyway. During those very dark days that followed, the days of uncertainty, the days when it wasn't safe to wander the streets of London in the day, let alone at night. When the absence of street lighting helped to hide all manner of dangers, she and Sam had grown close. Over those first few months, when the three of them had literally been barricaded like prisoners in the family home, only venturing out in the day to collect the food that was being strictly rationed out by the military, that closeness had developed into a relationship. Despite the fact the she had known Sam her whole life it didn't feel odd, more like a natural progression. He had turned out to be the missing piece of a puzzle, the piece that had made everything fit. Then one warm and sunny day in July, whilst they had been out picnicking under the
canopy of two ancient oaks in Oxleas Meadows, one of the area's many parks, enjoying the summer sun on their faces and almost forgetting about the crippled state of the nation's capital that lay mere miles away across the river, Sam had proposed. A full-blown down on one knee affair, not the kind of romantic gesture she would ever have imagined him making. She agreed then and there. With the majority of the UK still under strict martial law and things far from normal they knew they had a wait before any kind of service could even be planned. Over a year had now passed since the virus had claimed so many lives; gradually even conversation about the events of those fateful days had petered out between her brother and Sam. There were even times when they were almost able to fool themselves that nothing had happened. Times when they were all together at the house and chatting about childhood memories and of people now lost. Then on one oppressively muggy August day, that rumbled with thunder and threatened rain, a package had arrived. That was how it all began. Contained within was a name, with the name was an address. Accompanying this was a gun, a sheet of paper detailing who the target was and two syringes with instructions on how to use them. Lucie had made herself scarce that night whilst the boys had talked about the strange parcel. That was how it started. That was how the hidden war against those responsible for all the death and suffering had begun. It was also the first sign that the Arkkadian people were once again a presence on Earth, albeit a very illusive one. At first Adam had insisted on being involved in the justice that they had been chosen to deal out. Sam had outright refused, saying that despite the baptism of fire that he had endured during their time in the States and Egypt he was still not a trained solider. Eventually Adam had listened and agreed to let Sam do the job. Lucie's pleas for him not to go had fallen on deaf ears. “Hey, don't worry,” he had said to her before leaving that first time, “I was always one difficult bastard to kill, now I'm practically like the Terminator.” That first job had been close to home, the other side of the city. It proved a stark reminder to them that the Earth-Breeds left behind could literally be anyone you'd pass in the street. Much to the relief of both Lucie and Adam, Sam had returned home within five hours on his Triumph, rumbling noisily up the dark street, way past the government curfew and risking arrest. As time went on, and transport services came back allowing overseas travel, the targets had become wider spread. The introduction of the first transatlantic flights had seen Sam gone from home for three weeks. With no domestic telecommunications working, the first time Lucie knew he was safe was when he walked in through the door, clutching his Deuter backpack, a stupidly smug grin on his face. Those tasking the targets never made themselves known; they just ensured Sam had the tools to do the job. One of the benefits were the ludicrously large deposits of money that started appearing in his account. However Lucie would have gladly given it all back for those unwelcome intelligence packages to stop. Six months ago, once law and order, and a general standard of living had returned they were married. Nothing swank or posh, just a small service with, well just Lucie's best friend Claire and Adam, the majority of her other close friends were either dead or had fled the city and become un-contactable. On their wedding night she had finally managed to ask Sam the question that had been eating away at her since his proposal. Both slightly drunk and laying in each other's arms she had turned to him and said, “You do know that I am going to grow old? You will have to watch it happen whilst you remain unchanged. Do you think you will still love me?” Sam had done nothing but chuckle and reply.
“Oh, I fully intend on chopping you in for a younger model once you hit forty, being eternally youthful has its perks.” It had been Sam's way of putting her mind at rest, in a way that only Sam could. He followed it up by swearing that if he ever saw Oriyanna or any Arkkadian Elder again, he'd ask for the process to be reversed. Whilst The Gift was undoubtedly handy for healing minor wounds and preventing those annoying summer and winter flues that seem to do the rounds every year, eternal life was not actually an idea he relished. Little did they know that at that precise time, fate was pushing that particular train down the tracks of time toward them both.
Placing her phone back on the counter Lucie glanced at the one customer still in her bar. As she looked up, the lone male quickly took his eyes away from her and retuned his attention to the latte which he had been nursing for the last twenty minutes. It was growing late and she badly wanted to lock up and head home; she didn't normally close until half an hour before curfew but the stress of the day had taken its toll. Despite the growing sense that law and order was once again making a welcome return it was still best to be back in the safety of your home when the power went off at one AM. Thankfully the small bar come coffee shop was minutes from the family home, allowing Lucie to make the most of the late and last minute trade, no matter how sparse the custom was. The government were promising the daily interruptions to service were soon to end. Essential maintenance work was the official line offered up as an explanation. Many suspected it was to help enforce the curfew that conveniently matched the time of the power shut down. Those like Lucie who ran businesses that opened late were issued a permit, granting them an extra half an hour to allow them time to travel home, thankfully she never needed it. Tonight would be no different, it was only just gone half past ten but she'd had enough.
Sensing that she had caught him staring the guy briefly looked up from his coffee and offered her a slightly unsettling smile, turning up the corners of his tanned cheeks, a smile that did not transfer to his eyes which seemed cold and devoid of any emotion. The look sent a small chill through Lucie's body. Looking away from her again he lifted his mug and drained it of some more liquid, Lucie was sure that by now the coffee inside must have been stone cold.
The overly loud ring of her phone snatched her away from the unsettling hold the customer had on her and initially filled her stressed body with a sense of relief, Finally Sam, thank god, she thought turning her back on the slightly creepy guy and reaching for her phone. The relief was only temporary as she saw it was actually Adam's number displayed on the screen. Although she was always more than happy to speak to her brother the thought of him tying up her line at a time like this annoyed her. Snatching the phone off the freshly cleaned granite counter she hit the answer button, “Adam,” she began in a slightly annoyed voice that made her feel instantly guilty. “What is it?”
“Are you still at work?” came his voice over the unusually clear line; there was a hint of panic in his tone that caught her off guard.
“Ye-yeah, why?” she replied, turning to face the shop floor and seeing her lone customer was once again watching her with more interest than she felt comfortable with.
“Is anyone with you? Just answer yes or no.”
“Yes,” she replied, her voice showing a clear sign of stress.
“How many?”
“Just one,” she said, trying not to sound like she was speaking about the guy in the corner.
“Male or female?”
“The first option,” she replied, thinking on her feet. Her earlobe had begun to sting, she had the smart phone pressed to her ear far tighter than was needed. She realised that her other hand was fiddling with her long, brown ponytail, twisting her locks through her fingers.
“I think you're in danger, I can't explain now,” he said hurriedly not pausing for breath. “You need to get out of that shop, you need to go now!”
“I don't un-under st-stand,” Lucie stammered, feeling her pulse quicken, “I'm waiting for Sam to call.”
“I don't think he will be calling any time soon,” her brother fired down the line. “Please, trust me, just act natural and head to the rear kitchen area, once there go straight out the back door and get to your car. Do not lock up and do not approach that customer and ask them to leave, do you understand?”
“No problem, I can sort that out for you,” she said, trying to make it sound like a normal call.
“Once you're in the car, drive to the place we used to spend summer holid
ays with Mum and Dad.” Lucie knew exactly where her brother meant. The family had inherited a small thatch cottage from her mum's parents, it lay in the sleepy village of Alton Barnes in Wiltshire. The place held many fond memories for her, the small yet modest cottage would have been laying empty for the last few years, and no one had been there since the world had changed. Whilst she knew exactly how to get there the idea of driving well over a hundred and twenty miles at that time of night wasn't a tempting thought. And why the hell was he even asking her to make the trip? She felt her hands begin to shake, instantly she tried to quell it by moving her hand from her hair to her apron, she clutching at the front pocket and forced the phone even harder against her burning ear, so hard it made the lobe sting.
“O-Okay,” she managed to say. “I can do that, I'm off tomorrow so I will meet you then.” She gave her lone customer an apologetic smile as if to say, Sorry, important phone call. He offered up no reaction other than watching her with continued interest.
“Good thinking sis,” came Adam's voice from down the line, in the background Lucie could hear the sound of a revving engine, wherever her brother was he was in a car and on the move. “Call me when you're clear, before you get out of London and lose the mobile phone signal.”
“Okay.”
“Oh and sis.”
“Yeah.”
“Be careful!” he concluded, then the line went dead.
Removing the phone from her hot ear, Lucie dropped her hand to her side and collected up a rather grubby-looking cloth from the counter before making her way to the small kitchen area at the back of the shop, letting the swinging door shut behind her. In the artificial light she took a deep steadying breath and grabbed her bag off the microwave. Opening it she gave a quick cursory check for her car keys; they were there. Snatching them out she suddenly felt a cold hand wrap itself around her mouth and pull her back, causing the keys and phone to clatter to the tiled floor. Beneath the hand she gave a small, muffled cry of surprise and fear as she felt her already shaky legs turn to pure jelly.
