Nighthawks (Children of Nostradamus Book 1)

by Flagg, Jeremy

  They could hear laughter from outside. “Why can’t you teleport, Conthan?”

  Alyssa looked at the door as it continued to glow red. “It’s the Warden. He must be doing something.”

  Conthan understood Jasmine’s hatred. “Damned telepaths.”

  Alyssa’s shirt was starting to soak through. A continuous stream of sweat fell from her brow. “We’re going to die.”

  The two women’s eyes connected for a moment, a glance that spoke volumes. Sarah stood, clenching her fists, the bones scraping against one another. Conthan turned back and forth between the two women. Alyssa could see past the exoskeleton to Sarah’s eyes, the woman signaling toward the door. She turned to Conthan and then back to Alyssa, giving her a nod. Alyssa knew what she meant, protect him, at all costs.

  Sarah moved toward the door.

  “What are you doing?” asked Conthan a moment too late.

  Alyssa lunged, swiveling behind him and holding him in a deadman’s lock. He tried to wrestle free out of instinct, and knew there wouldn’t be any way he could break away from the girl. He saw Sarah reach for the door.

  “No!”

  Sarah looked over her shoulder for a moment and pushed the door open. The wave of flame washed over her body and she held still, letting it char her exoskeleton. She covered the small portion of her face with no bone and took a step into the oncoming inferno.

  “No!”

  Alyssa dragged Conthan to the floor and held on to him tight. He wasn’t fighting her. He continued to yell at the top of his lungs. He felt Alyssa let go of his arm and all he could do was reach out toward his best friend. He watched as the flame poured around her until it came into the room, forcing him to turn away.

  Alyssa watched in silence as the woman she just met was engulfed in flames. She could make out the girl’s outline as she moved closer to the origin of the fire. She had read about pyros. She knew they were deadly with the ability to generate flame. She had never heard of one able to control it like this. Her shadow pushed onward toward the source.

  The flame vanished for a moment. Sarah swung her arm out wide, slamming into a figure a dozen feet outside their small room. The man fell to his back, his body covered in smoke and still smoldering. Alyssa saw the spark start on his arm, and then his entire limb was engulfed and fire spread to the rest of his body.

  “No,” she whispered.

  The fire wrapped around Sarah and the girl vanished into the flickering flames. Alyssa watched, horrified, as she fell on top of the man and began to bring her fist back. The slow action showed how much pain she was in. She never screamed. She brought it down, connecting squarely with where the man’s face would have been. She did it one more time, and as fast as the flames had begun, they vanished.

  “Sarah,” Conthan said, calling out to his fallen friend.

  Alyssa didn’t stop Conthan as he crawled out from under her. He was at Sarah’s side in moments. She grabbed the torn sheet and ran out to them. She patted down the girl, extinguishing the small flames still burning through what little fabric she was wearing.

  Conthan ignored the pain in his hands as he rolled Sarah over. The bones covering her body were blackened. Her chest was fractured in multiple places, revealing where skin should have been beneath. He could see her face, both eyes closed, the skin as black as ash.

  “Sarah.” His tears landed on her skin, making a hissing sound as they made contact.

  “Conthan,” Alyssa said, pulling his hands off her body. Conthan swung his hand out, knocking her backward. He tried to touch his friend and he could feel the heat still radiating from her body. He waited for her to open her eyes. She lay there unmoving.

  ***

  Jasmine’s jaw was slack as she listened to Conthan mumbling in disbelief about his friend. Dwayne’s eyes were closed, his face expressionless as they listened to Conthan’s pleas. Skits on the other hand, her hands were already starting to burn blue again, and Jasmine could see the anger beginning to appear on her face.

  Jasmine pressed the button on the elevator, hoping it would open. “I’m in a room with a Child who is about to go berserk,” she said in a flat manner. “Let her exercise some grief.”

  The doors hissed and began to part. The girl vanished through the crack before they were fully open. The flare of her hands could be seen inside the dark room. Dwayne followed her out and Jasmine could hear the snap of the lightning as they began fighting.

  Jasmine stood up and reached for the metal band on her arm. Her powers went into motion and she felt the pain, the surge, and the change in her skin. The weight of her body increased and she took a single step forward, trying to follow her companions out of the elevator shaft.

  She walked out of the doors and found Skits huffing and puffing. The girl turned and looked at her teammate. Animalistic rage was painted across her face. Jasmine knew the signs of pain. Skits was in the midst of a break and she couldn’t blame the young woman.

  Dwayne turned to the massive room and waited for any other opposition. As he walked further into the space, lights began to flicker high above. It was huge, the length of several football fields. He paused to take in all of the spaces filled with machinery, half-built mechs, giant stasis tubes, and dozens of huge crates. “What are we seeing?”

  “I have no idea,” said Jasmine. A dozen men littered the ground; unlike the men earlier, these weren’t soldiers. The white lab coats and computer pads scattered across the floor reminded her of the government scientists always trying to experiment on her.

  Jasmine walked into the bay. Three-story tall ceilings made the space look immense, and the scatterings of machinery seemed out of place proportionally. She walked up to a series of tubes towering above the ground and realized she was staring at people trapped inside, suspended in liquid, masks attached to their faces.

  “What are we looking at?” Dwayne asked.

  “Didn’t Conthan say his friend was covered in bones?”

  “Yeah, she has an exoskeleton,” Skits huffed.

  Jasmine pointed at a man suspended in the liquid. Bones creeped up his leg, looking awkward as the rest of his body was still pink flesh. Near his shoulder, several spikes protruded through the skin. Jasmine looked down at the various controls and then to the others. “I know what this is.”

  “What?” Skits asked in a hoarse voice.

  “They’re grafting powers onto humans.”

  “What?” asked Dwayne.

  Jasmine pointed to the man. “That’s Conthan’s girlfriend’s power.”

  “Couldn’t it be that somebody has the same power?” asked Dwayne.

  “How many lightning hurlers have you found lately?”

  “Point made.”

  Jasmine looked at the next tube and saw the outline of a human body in the liquid, but found that the actual person was impossible to see. The regulator clung to his face, forcing oxygen into his lungs. It caused his chest to rise and fall as if he might still be alive. The last tube was empty, and the floor in front of it was drenched.

  “We’re not alone.”

  Skits hands came back to life. “I’ve got this.”

  “This place is massive, it could be hiding anywhere,” Dwayne said.

  “How often does somebody bad get out and run away?” Skits said with a maniacal sneer on her face.

  Jasmine turned to a series of computers blinking and coolant fans grinding away. She sat down in the chair and felt it creak under her weight. She took off her gauntlet and set it down next to the computer. She looked for a port to access and finally grabbed a small wire on the wristband and fed it into the computer. The download bar appeared on her gauntlet.

  “Jasmine,” Dwayne said with a hushed tone, “I think we are so fucked.”

  “What?”

  She looked into the darkness at the far end of the bay. The lights began to flicker to life. Housed at the end were at least twenty people, standing, unmoving. Jasmine narrowed her eyes, trying to focus on the figures. “They look
like synthetics.”

  “Those are people,” Dwayne said. “Outlanders, to be exact.”

  “Holy shit,” Skits said. “They’ve been experimenting on powers and humans?”

  Jasmine turned to the others. “Were you wondering why the most heavily sealed part of the facility had no guards?”

  Dwayne watched as each of the limp bodies twitched. Their hanging heads shot upright, their backs straightening. “Not anymore.”

  ***

  Vanessa wept over the bloodied corpse, the tears streaming down her cheeks, landing on the priest’s face, mixing with the crimson. She paused at the sensation and wiped them from her cheek. She turned her head and saw the feathered wings stretched alongside her body. Confusion began to set in. “This isn’t real.”

  The scene had reset itself and she could see the priest standing in front of her once more. She listened to him scolding her, calling her a monster. She looked up and to the man and she could see the reflection in his eyes of her blonde hair and alabaster skin. “It’s not real.”

  He drew back the belt, preparing to strike her. She reached up and grabbed his wrist and felt him try to wrestle away from her. She stood and held the man’s arms, grasping them with all her strength until the man was kneeling, submitting before her.

  “You’re not real.”

  The substance of the priest vanished and all that was left was smoke. The belt she had come to fear lay on the ground. Without the man, all she had were the memories of the pain it caused her. She remembered the day he had cast her out and the rage she felt toward him. She had contemplated killing him for decades, but she had turned her back on that life. She had forged a new existence. Now she practiced the words the women of the church had instilled in her.

  “I shall fear no evil.”

  She whispered it out loud, thinking of the Warden, the man she had come to stop. She reminded herself of the Warden sitting behind the desk. She realized that, as she murmured the prayer, it wasn’t the Warden she feared.

  She looked at the massive rose window of the church, shining light down on her. She had always felt close to heaven in this spot, letting the light wash across her skin. She looked to her side and saw a young woman sitting in the pew, her blonde hair and alabaster skin resembling her own. She smiled at the woman. Sincere blue eyes pierced Vanessa’s camouflage. She remembered the moment she had looked upon that woman. She had wanted to be her in all her perfection. That was the day she forged herself a new identity.

  A shadow formed behind the woman. She could smell the repulsive stench of the Warden even in a world without senses. The shadow pulled the woman’s head back and slid a blade along her neck. She wanted to cry out, but she reminded herself that nothing was real.

  “I’m not real,” she whispered to herself.

  “You’ll relive this moment for the rest of your days, angel.”

  She started to laugh at her moniker. She had been called that for so long she had begun to embrace the name. Even the Warden couldn’t see past her conjured exterior. She knew none of it was real, and she decided it was time to let the mirage fade away.

  She knelt down, focusing on the skin holding her body together, the constricting flesh she had woven about herself. She flexed her muscle and the image began to tear away. As she stood up, she knew the shadow was seeing her, the real her, for the first time.

  She opened her hands and the claws at the tip of her fingers extended further outward. The shadow was staring at her, and for the first time, no laugh mocked her. She had surprised the man. She roared as a sensation in her gut revealed access to a power she had long since hidden away.

  Vanessa turned about in the church and with that motion she was standing in the Warden’s office again. She could see the man now. Instead of staring off into space, his eyes made contact with her.

  She had his attention.

  The world vibrated around her as two shadows appeared out of thin air. Before she could see them with her eyes, she was already turning toward one, claws stretched out, raking against the unknown substance. Her hands sank into the shadow, and as fast as it appeared, it dissipated. She continued the turn, swiped her hand across the neck of the second shadow, and watched it vanish.

  The Warden was standing now. She felt his presence. Unlike the shadows he commanded, he was a solid object in the room. She jumped on the desk and reached forward to rake her nails across his face. He caught her arm. There was strength in his hands, a confidence in the way he stymied her approach.

  The moment they touched, a rush of emotions and thoughts flooded her mind. They were more different than she had worried. Hers was a wild energy, free for the first time. His was like a rock, solid and unmoving. He pushed back and her body hit the ground and skidded to a stop. His form moved through the desk, closing the distance between them.

  “Even now,” he said in his calm, deep voice, “your power means nothing to me.”

  She screamed at him and lunged again. She could sense his movements before he made them, and for the first time she felt her claws rake against his face. The flesh was soft but malleable. She had struck the man, finally doing harm.

  He didn’t respond to the gashes across his face. The blood began to well up and slowly ooze down his cheeks. His eyes were unmoving, focused on the woman huffing and puffing in front of him.

  He remained motionless as the pressure began to build in her head. It was as if a cement block was thrown against her torso, and she rolled backward. He was no longer using his avatar to assault her; he was relying on the abilities of his mind.

  “No,” she said firmly as drops of blood began to emerge from her nostril.

  She willed herself to stand again, pulling her wings in close to her body. She could see the green skin on her hand and she began to push back against his intrusions. There was a moment of relief. The pain of hiding for years behind a mask caused her emotions to build. She embraced their overwhelming nature. The man in front of her threatened her way of life and the people she called her family.

  The Warden’s avatar was thrown backward. He remained standing, but it was as if he were fighting against gale force winds. The more he resisted, the more Vanessa became enraged and her emotions continued to fuel the invisible storm.

  “Power you had never imagined, angel,” the man said. “I had so hoped you would join me.”

  With the slightest swipe of his wrist, it appeared that the storm calmed. Vanessa’s anger subsided and she realized he was beginning to influence her more. He started to invade her mind. Even with her newfound confidence, she found herself facing an adversary with the ability to make her submit against her will.

  ***

  “Conthan,” Alyssa said in a hushed tone, “we need to get out of here.”

  Her companion held his best friend in his arms. She could tell by the heaving of his body he was sobbing. She didn’t dare reach down and touch him again. “Conthan, we really need to get out of here.”

  He looked down at the charred remains of his friend. She tried to imagine what he was going through, but even she couldn’t understand his guilt. Today, he had come to save her, and instead, she had saved him. The result had cost her life. He looked up through the tears to Alyssa standing there. Her face reflected the sadness in his eyes.

  He laid Sarah’s head back down onto the ground and took a moment to memorize her face. The pyro’s corpse lay next to his dead friend. The Warden had constructed this situation. She watched as the sadness on his face turned to rage. The Warden was at fault for this.

  She didn’t see him gesture to call his powers. The portal simply opened in midair where he had navigated the maze to teleport before. He stood up and looked to Alyssa. “He’s going to die.”

  “Who?”

  “The Warden.”

  He didn’t wait for a reply as he stepped into the frigid darkness.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Four

  May 20th, 2032 7:38AM

  Dwayne pushed Skits behin
d the metal incubators while sheltering himself behind Jasmine. Her body responded to the thud of each bullet. She leaned forward, holding her arms at her side, deflecting as many as she could.

  “We need better cover,” Dwayne said.

  “You think?” Jasmine yelled back.

  He stepped to her side and let loose a bolt of lightning. The charge hit one of the metal men, which staggered backward. Dwayne flexed his arm and could feel that his internal battery didn’t have enough energy to continue launching manmade bolts of lightning. He started preparing to jump behind the large tubes when he saw the black circle open mid-air.

  “Incoming,” he yelled.

  They were stepping right into the line of fire. He pushed the last of his charge out through his palms, offering what little cover he could. He saw Alyssa come out of the portal and grabbed her, pulling her to the ground.

  Skits grabbed her brother’s hand and pulled him behind the tubes. They all watched as Conthan stood in front of the portal. The expression on his face betrayed his cool demeanor. The flushed red skin showed his anger.

  “Get to cover,” Jasmine barked.

  Dwayne could see the vacant look on his companion. He was staring off into space, his mind altogether elsewhere. Jasmine stepped in front of him and spread herself wide with clank after clank of bullets pelting her hide.

  “Conthan, run,” she yelled.

  The sound of metal scraping across Jasmine’s skin got louder. Dwayne could tell Conthan was lost. He watched them hide, but there was a disconnect between what he was seeing and how he was reacting. Dwayne could only imagine Conthan was still focusing on his dead friend.

  Beyond Jasmine a dozen synthetic soldiers were holding rifles, firing in his direction. The energy tore itself from Conthan’s body and without thinking about it, the void ripped through several of the oncoming soldiers. Dwayne could hear the pain in Conthan’s voice as he yelled. His muscles must be on fire as he strained to open the portal from inside the torsos of the human robots, Dwayne thought.