The Secret Gift

by Ian Somers

  ‘I never caught his exact words. It was something like: “the ocean is going out” or “the ocean is being pulled out”. I stalled on the beach to see the tide was indeed receding away from the beach at an unnatural pace. I looked out to sea, to where the mysterious boat had been, and could no longer see it. The ocean had risen up. A mighty wave was flowing towards the island.

  ‘I can’t begin to describe the speed and ferocity of the tsunami. I managed to protect myself as it struck by wrapping myself in a shell of psychokinetic energy. Eventually the rush of the ocean proved too strong even for me and the shield caved in. I almost died. Still to this day I have nightmares of drowning, salt water forcing itself down my throat and filling my lungs.

  ‘I latched onto a tree as the waters flooded inland and held on for dear life. Then the waves died down and I went in search of my friends. I found their bodies in the hour that followed and brought them to a clearing at the centre of the island. None had survived. I was battered and heartbroken. I was almost out of my mind with grief – certainly not prepared for the fighting that was to come. The following days saw the rise of pure evil.’

  Listening to Sterling describe the loss of his friends, and seeing the obvious grief in his expression, made me think his story was true, and that he wasn’t the villain I first thought him to be. How could anyone who cared for others so much be a villain? And Sterling and I had befriended many of the same people over the years: Romand, Williams, Hunter, June Atkinson to name but a few. Slowly I was becoming more comfortable in his presence. The initial fear of him was dissipating.

  ‘Where do I even begin to describe the horrors that I faced after the tsunami?’ he sighed. ‘You and I have both fought great terrors. Golding, Shaw, Zalech, Nijinska, and Dolloway to name but a few. But all of these pale in comparison to the evil that rose on the day my friends died.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The Darkest Hour

  I listened closely as Sterling began to describe what happened next.

  ‘I gathered the bodies of my fallen friends as the waters seeped from the island back to the ocean. It was gruesome work. Some had sustained severe head injuries when the wave bashed them against the rocks and trees of the island. I think I tuned out of reality that afternoon, perhaps a defence mechanism of the mind that allows us to cope with such tragedy and horror. That’s why I had no sense of the threat that drew close.

  ‘Nijinska, like most wicked people, didn’t put herself in harm’s way. She remained on the boat and sent her mercenaries to the island. I fled when I saw them coming ashore. I ran through the flooded jungle until I reached the far side of the island as darkness fell. There was nowhere left to run. I was cornered. I had to put aside any fear or inhibition and come out fighting. They surrounded me on the beach and opened fire. I used my numerous gifts to protect myself from the bullets, and to use them against my attackers. It didn’t take long to cut them all down. Foolishly I lowered my guard when the last of them was killed.’

  Sterling pushed back his chair and threw his left leg up on the desk, then rolled up the trouser and showed me an horrific scar on his calf. I’d sustained serious injuries in my time and knew how painful it must have been.

  ‘Not all of the mercenaries were dead. Two of them had remained in the cover of the jungle – two snipers. I remember that moment clearly. The bullet tore through my leg before I even heard the shot. I fell forward onto the sodden sand, clutching my injured leg, and screaming with the pain coursing through my body. That was the moment when it happened. I felt a new power stirring. It was like nothing I had experienced before. The sixteenth gift probably would have been developed naturally at some point in my life, but the pain, stress and the anger of that instant had awoken it from its hibernation and I became only the second person in history to attain all sixteen of the gifts. The power of the Seductor Mortis shocked even me …

  ‘I couldn’t see the snipers. It was pitch black at this time and they were well buried in the undergrowth. I could feel them, though. This new gift allowed me to sense any life force and to snuff it out if I wished. All I did was think of them dying and seconds later I could hear their screams from deep within the trees. It didn’t take them long to die. Then the island was deathly silent. Those few peaceful moments allowed me to think straight and to devise a plan … The mageleton was still alive, you see. I knew she wouldn’t flee. She would remain nearby until her mission was complete.

  ‘I went to the south of the island, to the top of a high cliff, so I could get a good view of the ocean to the east. Nijinska was clever enough not to have any lights on the boat and I could not see her. I could feel her, though. She was out there somewhere.’

  ‘Why didn’t you just use the sixteenth gift again?’ I asked. ‘Like you had with the snipers?’

  ‘I tried. I was running on empty though, and could not seem to replicate what I’d done before. I had to wait out the night and hope that by daybreak I would have renewed strength – just enough to kill her. She too must have been exhausted; raising a tsunami is quite a draining feat. The night seemed to last forever and I never slept a wink thanks to the injury to my leg. I curse myself for not having tried to end the fight that night … I had too much time to think … In the silent darkness I began to contemplate what I had read in The Vinlorn Chronicle. Ross, the sixteenth gift works in four different ways: It gives you the power to sense the life force of others, it allows you to heal injury, it allows you to remove life by willing it alone, and it empowers you to give life where there is none.’

  ‘So you really can bring people back from the dead?’

  ‘You could say that. I had read in the chronicle that Vinlorn had been able to raise the dead. And in one case he had revived a fellow slave who had succumbed to fever. I believed that I could do the same. I could bring my friends back from the dead! I used the cover of darkness to travel back to the centre of the island and there I used the Seductor Mortis to revive all eleven of them. Their terrible injuries I healed as best I could, in order to give them a chance at survival. They could barely speak at first, only one could manage to stand upright, but as the hours slipped by they slowly recovered – although not enough to face Nijinska in combat. I left them at first light and went to the eastern shore. I was exhausted at this point. I could hardly even stand. I still don’t quite know how I managed to defend the island from the inevitable attack.

  ‘The tide retreated fast from the beach and far out to sea the horizon climbed the sky. Another, more powerful, wave had been created. The water rose up hundreds of feet and began to roll west towards the island. It took every ounce of my power to halt its momentum and to reverse its course so that the full weight of the wave came back at Nijinska. I sensed her life force disappearing as a massive white explosion rocked the sea. She had used all her strength in creating the wave, saving none to protect herself. She was no more. I believed that I was safe. I believed that I had won. My enemies were dead. I was alive. So too were my beloved troupe of friends.

  ‘I went to them when I had the strength to walk again. They were where I had left them, sitting in the shade of the jungle, watching each other with empty eyes. That was when I started thinking I had made a mistake in bringing them back. There seemed to be very little, other than the physical, that remained of the people they were. Foolishly, I clung to the hope that they would come back to themselves in time. It took me two hours to get them to the shore and to use my gifts to draw in the boat we had hired from far out on the sea. I got them onboard and set sail for another island that was some miles to the west. This was an inhabited island. I thought that I might be able to get them medical treatment there. To feed them. Fresh water. Anything that would return us to some form of normality.

  ‘Along the way there were whispers between them that ceased when I turned to look at them. They returned my stares with empty ones of their own. I was very uncomfortable by the time we docked on the next island. The locals flocked around us, full of questions
about the giant waves that had been seen. I told them that it was caused by an earthquake, that we had survived it and that my friends needed rest and food. Some of the older people didn’t believe me. No, they weren’t buying my story at all. They needed only to look upon my old friends to know there was something very wrong. My friends had suffered broken limbs, terrible cuts, fractured skulls and so on. I had healed these injuries, so that they were no longer life threatening, but the dreadful scars marred their skin and deep indentations could be seen on their heads and limbs. They were monstrosities. When the commotion died down I was brought to a nearby house where I got some food before I fell into a much needed sleep.

  ‘When I awoke I was in the middle of utter chaos. The family who had allowed me to stay in their home were screaming: “Orangmati, Orangmati, Orangmati.” This was a local term for The Dead. I quickly learned that evening that my friends had grouped together and used their gifts to start systematically wiping out all the people of the island. I was responsible for what they were doing – I had brought them to the island! I went and faced them, pleading with them to stop the killing. That’s when they turned on me. I realised then what I had done. The fourth stage of the Seductor Mortis is a power not of this world. It should never have been used. You see, when you bring someone back from the dead it is as if you put their soul into reverse. They come back as the opposite of what died. Good people become vicious and maniacal. My friends were beautiful in life. Now they had returned as monsters. Evil to the core and bent on murder and destruction. And when they were brought back, their gifts were also inverted, or mutated. They used mysterious powers against me. I found it next to impossible to defend myself, and tragically I could do nothing for the poor folk who called that island paradise home.

  ‘I surrendered to fear and stole one of the fishing boats and set sail for the islands to the south. My friends – the Orangmati – were in pursuit. They were coming for me. The love they felt for me in life had been reversed. It became hatred of me. They would stop at nothing to see me dead. They were right on me as soon as I reached the next island. I fought as hard as I could, and managed to kill two of them that night before I was pushed into retreat. I hid for an entire day before they caught up with me again. There was more fighting before I reached the port on the other side of the island where I saw some friendly faces. It was Jonathan Atkinson and Fiona Taylor.

  ‘Taylor was the Guild’s representative in that part of the world and she had contacted Atkinson as soon as she heard about the tidal wave. He’d left England with great haste when she told him about the talk of “Orangmati”. The locals who spoke English told her that undead were stalking through the islands, hunting a westerner who had super powers. They had found me just in time. I was practically delirious at this point. I’d been on the run and fighting, while injured, for days. I was always outnumbered and often outmatched. When Atkinson and Taylor found me I was at breaking point.’

  I knew what Sterling was telling me was true. It made sense now that he told me the other side of the tale that I had read in Jonathan Atkinson’s own diary.

  ‘Atkinson was wonderfully gifted, cunning and courageous. Taylor was a born fighter, tenacious and vicious in combat. They managed to hold off the enemy for more than twenty-four hours. By that time I had regained my strength, and the stomach for the battle. We faced my friends and cut down three of them in the battle that ensued. Alas, Taylor was lost that night. Atkinson was injured badly and I was all out of ideas by dawn. I believed the end was coming … It never came. The military arrived instead. I created a body refraction for Atkinson and myself and we stowed away on a boat headed for Australia. There we met another Guild agent, Georgia Murray, who hid us at her home. We stayed there until our injuries had healed, then we journeyed to England, to the home of the Guild.’

  ‘What happened to the Orangmati?’ I asked. ‘Were they killed by the army or something?’

  ‘If only,’ Sterling said as he lifted himself from the chair. ‘Six of them had survived. They simply disappeared.’

  He pointed at the far wall and I watched as one of the large framed portraits became detached and floated away from the wall. Behind it was a metal safe that became unlocked. The door swung open and a stack of cards, each a little bigger than a standard playing card, levitated across the room and landed neatly on the desk. There was a symbol that covered the top card. It was similar to the Guild logo, but had a skull and dressings instead of the usual wolf head. The number 37 was just above the emblem. Sterling took the cards and began flicking through them. Occasionally he’d crunch one up and it would disintegrate to dust.

  ‘There were thirty-seven until recently,’ he said. ‘You and Hunter have killed four of them over the last few days: Boxer, Blake, Brofeldt and Vanev. That leaves thirty four … He took four of the cards and placed them before me, all face down, with only the skull crest and the numbers showing. These were numbered: 1, 2, 3 & 4.

  ‘Each of the cards represents an enemy of the Guild. Not troublesome thieves. These are all extremely dangerous individuals who pose a threat to us and the world. The lower the number, the higher the threat level. Most of the senior agents are given their own set of cards – usually no more than ten at any one time. The vast majority of our agents have no idea who the top four enemies are. These four cards are a secret that only a few people know of.’

  Sterling sat again, facing me, as a smile grew on his face.

  ‘What’s there to smile about?’ I asked.

  ‘I am happy that you’ve calmed down a little and don’t believe me to be the devil.’

  ‘I’m the devil here …’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Vanev and Brofeldt referred to me as the devil.’

  ‘Ah, I see. I’m sure I can explain that to you shortly. First, I will continue my story. So that you are in full possession of the facts.’

  ‘Hold on,’ I said. ‘Why did Romand and the others tell me that you were a monster? How did you become known as the Kematian?’

  ‘It’s quite simple really. It could not be common knowledge that I had survived. James Barkley had to be gone. That’s why I changed my name to James Sterling. The Guild were told that I was one of Barkley’s friends and that I fought him when he attained the highest power.’

  ‘That doesn’t make any sense at all.’

  ‘Oh, but it does. Many people knew of Barkley’s abilities. Many had also heard of the terrible acts carried out on the islands, and the rumours of an undead that claimed many lives. Atkinson and I felt that no one should ever go looking for me or my friends, for it might restart a battle that could consume the world. We then invented the story that I had gone mad when my friends were killed and that in my madness I gained the Seductor Mortis, became a ghoul and went on a murderous rampage. This explained away the atrocities that occurred. It was such an evil tale that it would scare off anyone who would come looking for me, or into the story that we cooked up. You see, from the moment we arrived in London, we knew that I could never be put at risk. I could never go about the work of a Guild agent. I could never masquerade as a normal person. I could never be found by anyone seeking to avenge what had happened in south-east Asia. I could never be found out by Golding or his ilk. My life was far too precious. I could still sense those of my friends who had survived. I could feel the six of them, and I understood that they could also sense me. I would have to remain hidden and safe in case they ever went on the rampage again. I was the only one who could fight them properly. And so Jim Sterling was born. The story of the Kematian was born. The story was told to all members of the Guild. Every time a youngster is recruited, we tell them anecdotally of the story that you were told by Romand. It would keep from going looking for me – the real me.’

  ‘I don’t get it. If you could still sense your friends, why not track them down and kill them? Why not bring an end to it all?’

  ‘The reason is simple: because I do not know if I, even with the help of the Guild, ca
n defeat them. And I think that they remain hidden because they fear me. It’s a very uneasy peace.’

  ‘So you’ve been hiding out all this time?’

  ‘I guess you could say that. You now sit in the basement of the Palatium. We’re in the heart of London. It actually used to be a hospital for convalescent soldiers before it fell into disrepair. The Guild bought it in the early 1970s, fixed it up and we’ve used it as our HQ ever since. I was given this basement when I arrived in 1990. It’s been my home from that day on. Although it was more like a prison than a home in those early years. Books were my only true companions. I read every book I could find that related to the gifts, so that I could maximise my abilities. Within a couple of short years I had perfected most of the true gifts, despite ignoring the sixteenth for the most part. I still feared to use it. At one point I tried to heal up this awful wound on my leg and discovered that the healing part of the gift only works on others.’

  ‘You can’t heal yourself?’

  ‘Unfortunately not. After a couple of quiet years the world of the gifted became active again. Golding was growing in power and was hiring more efficient killers and intensifying his search for gifted recruits. One such recruit contacted us and told us of his plans to escape the clutches of Golding. He wanted us to take him in.’

  ‘Romand?’

  ‘Yes. We helped him to flee Golding’s organisation and drafted him into the Guild. That was when he told us of Marianne Dolloway – she was just a young girl at that time. Romand insisted that she had more than three gifts, and that despite her youth, she had an unsound mind and could grow to become a vicious killer. We knew that she had the potential to reach my level, and that posed great danger to everyone. Can you imagine if Marianne had developed my skills?’