04 Last
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
The Last
Book 4: The Watchers Series
By: Lynnie Purcell
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 Lynnie Purcell
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Chapter 1
The snow fell to the earth like lace.
It drifted, swirled, and danced around my face with a wild abandon even the Watchers around me could not match. The falling snow added to the piles of snow already obscuring the land. Though insanely beautiful and peaceful, the snow only made our task harder.
Margaret and Jackson, along with Preacher - a member of a rebellious group called ‘the Saints’ - were waiting for us along the western coast of Alaska. They had called us an hour ago to meet them, but we had yet to find them in the storm. We moved along the bank, scanning for any signs of them against the backdrop of snow. The ship we had rode on for two weeks to get to Alaska bobbed in time to the icy water. It swayed back and forth in a rhythm that was unique to the sea and the storm that was circling us. I fought against the pull of the ship, even as my eyes scoured the white landscape for sign of my friends. Beside me were Alex, Daniel, and an unhappy-looking Spider.
Despite two weeks on the boat, Spider had yet to gain his sea legs. His face was as green as his eyes; his whole body trembled with the desire to throw up. He had refused to stay down below, however – he was adamant about helping with the search. Alex was much more comfortable on the boat, not nearly as prone to throwing up as Spider. She had spent a lot of time on the water, on fishing trips with her father. She had to grip the rail often, to keep from sliding around, but her face was calm as she too searched the shore. Daniel was even more confident. He needed no railing – he did not fear the waves we rode. His body made miniscule shifts in time with the rocking, so that he looked stationary, despite the heavy waves surrounding the ship. His green eyes scanned the bank with alert intensity. It was the same intensity he held when we had a mission. And there had been plenty of missions in the last two weeks; missions where we had maintained the purpose of the Saints, which was to help people.
The mission we were on now went beyond just searching for our friends on the coast of Alaska. It was at once very simple and incredibly complicated. We were enduring the biting cold wind and icy ocean for a simple reason: to get Daniel’s parents back from Marcus’ Seekers. The place the Seekers had taken them, after abducting them from their home in King’s Cross, was located in the mountains of Alaska – that was all we knew at this point. The reason for abducting them was clear: Marcus was forcing them to develop weapons that only Han and Beatrice, as world-class scientists, could develop. The mission was complicated, because attacking a fortress in Alaska was always complicated. The odds were not in our favor.
Attacking the fortress was something we would do despite the odds. We could not leave Han and Beatrice as Marcus’ prisoners forever. It was too close to the torture and fear I had endured for a month and half; the fear every moment would be my last and the pain would never end. Worse, the pain would make me submit to whatever my captors wanted. It was a fate I had lived through once in Lorian’s prison and it was not one I was eager for anyone else to share.
Lorian and his brother Darian had been fighting a war for ultimate power, which had rocked all of Watcher-kind with its violence. There was not a Watcher in the world who did not fear the repercussions of the fight. Watchers felt the cost of the fighting every single day. Watchers were hunted by Marcus’ Seekers and then sold to the war, just because of their heritage. To refuse to join was certain death. But change was in the wind. The same two weeks that had separated our journey to Alaska separated me from seeing Lorian killed by an angel known as Nemesis.
I had pulled Nemesis from the darkness between one place and the next, and she had used the moment to complete a task set to her a long time ago – to kill Lorian. She had beheaded him as easily as I put on shoes in the morning. Then, in exchange for freeing her, she had promised any favor I wished. I was not eager to call on her for anything; I had the feeling her answer always relied on violence. Not only that, her help was a double-edged sword. I was certain I would pay for my request.
We had gotten news only yesterday that Nemesis had completed the second part of her task – to kill the other brother, Darian. There had been an epic party at hearing the news. People were still celebrating.
Darian’s death meant the war was really over. The war that had held most of Watcher-kind in the dark, fearing the light of day, had ended for good. We were ‘free.’ Or so it seemed to many.
I was not as enthusiastic as the others were in my celebration of the event.
For me, Lorian and Darian had always been a minor threat – background noise to the major threat that was Marcus. Marcus was the one who had hunted me for two years. He was the one who had pulled me in to a world of fear and pain. He was the one who haunted my dreams, if I let down my guard even a little. He was the reason I feared sleep. His white hair, yellow eyes and feline features were as familiar as my nightmares.
The end of the war between Lorian and Darian was the beginning for him.
I knew it like I knew the shape of Daniel’s face. Marcus was only getting warmed up – if anything, having Darian and Lorian out of the way made Marcus’ task easier. There was less competition in his way. He would not have to fight the brothers himself. He could focus on whatever he was planning, instead of ‘recruiting’ new bodies for their war.
I did not know why Marcus wanted to include me in to his planning, or why he was so desperate to capture me. To date, he had sent three different Seekers to capture me. Three different occasions that held their share of fear, pain, and betrayal. The only thing I really knew was that I had abilities before my seventeenth birthday – which was only three weeks away – and that I could turn people in to a Nightstalker, if I gave them my blood willingly. Alex was proof of that particular ability; she dealt with that reality every single day.
Answers were important to me, but not having them would not stop me; I was determined ne
ver to let Marcus get what he wanted. I was determined to get Daniel’s parents out of prison and continue the mission I had decided on doing a long time ago. I was going to stop Marcus. I was going to fight him and kill him. He was the seed of the pain we had all suffered.
Daniel put a hand on my arm, bringing me back to the present. He pointed at the land sliding past just as three figures appeared like mirages out of the snow. I smiled as the familiar, tall form of Jackson, the slender, graceful form of Margaret, and the less-familiar, but still welcome, form of Preacher appeared against the backdrop of snow. I had harbored a small fear that they had been captured along with Han and Beatrice. Seeing them was proof that we had a chance at besting the fortress. If they could get past the sentries surrounding it, so could we.
Daniel turned to signal the control room – to stop the ship. I turned as well. I couldn’t see inside the room from the distance we were at, but I knew River was up there, keeping the ship on course. The engine I could hear too well, because of my alert ears, changed sounds as she slowed down. Jackson, Margaret, and Preacher followed the course of the ship as we slowed, staying parallel to us with an easy jog. Finally, the engines shifted gear again, and we pulled to a rough stop along the bank. Daniel grabbed Spider by the collar, to keep him from sliding off the boat at the jerky stop. The sudden movement was not good for Spider. Daniel pulled Spider over to the rail just as the boy lost his lunch.
Jackson didn’t wait for an invitation to board the ship. He jumped from the bank to the ship without hesitation. He was grinning, like normal, his face lit up with a mischievous smile.
“Are we pirates now?” Jackson asked.
“I’m pretty sure Daniel has scurvy,” I said. “Which I think qualifies us.”
“And Clare keeps calling everyone, ‘matey,’ Daniel added. “But I think that’s just because she’s seen too many old movies.”
Jackson’s smile had grown with our teasing.
“Did you tell Clare about that time off the coast of Africa…that guy…and running that boat down and setting it on fire?” Jackson asked with a laugh. “Now that guy was a real pirate…”
“I believe he preferred the term ‘corsair,’” Daniel said.
“Well, he was a notorious liar,” Jackson said.
“And a thief, apparently,” I said.
I wanted to spend the reunion making jokes and laughing, but there was no use hiding from the truth. Jackson had been on a mission – I was more than curious to see what they had found out. They hadn’t said anything on the phone, and the suspense was killing me.
“What did you find out? Where are they? Are they close?” I asked.
“We should probably have this conversation in front of Reaper,” Daniel said. “He’ll want to hear. It’s not just us in this – it’s his people he’s committing to helping us rescue my parents.”
Jackson nodded in agreement and turned back to Margaret and Preacher. He gestured at them once, and they disappeared back in to the veil of snow. They did not need words to know what he wanted; they had obviously developed an unspoken language over the course of their two weeks together.
“Where are they going?” I asked.
“To keep an eye out,” Jackson said. “Marcus has scouts even this far west. We’ve met two so far.”
“Met?” Alex asked, finally speaking up.
Jackson’s grin turned evil at the question. There was no doubt ‘met’ meant ‘fought and killed.’
“Oh,” Alex said.
She glanced at me then at Spider, who was still trying to throw up, despite his empty stomach. It was obvious Spider needed someone to stay with him. He was also an excuse – a reason not to have to face Reaper, who Alex had been avoiding like the plague.
“I’ll stay with him,” Alex offered. “Let me know…everything.”
She waved her hand in an all-encompassing manner. I knew it meant to take in the information Jackson was going to share.
“I will,” I promised.
She nodded gratefully, turned back to Spider, and started rubbing his back in a maternal way. I followed Jackson and Daniel to the heavy metal door that led to the decks below. I sighed at the real reason behind her refusal to join us. The situation with Alex and Reaper was touchy at best. Before we had left L.A., they had fought, and the tension of it still hung in the air between them. They couldn’t seem to find the words to make it right. Alex was angry and thought Reaper enjoyed killing for killing’s sake – though she was happy that, after their argument, he had eradicated a long-standing rule, which said anyone could fight him to the death and take his place as leader of the Saints. Reaper was just as angry, though I was less familiar with his reasons; he didn’t share and I didn’t ask. I just knew they both didn’t know what to say to the other around the awkwardness. I also knew they liked each other more than they were willing to admit. The tension of that was more pervasive than the argument that kept them from talking. It was the real reason they both were so afraid to start talking again. Neither seemed ready for the type of love story they could have if they let down their guard.
Three steps separated the inside from the heavy door leading outside. The interior walls were rusted and pitted from years at sea. Row upon row of living quarters was spaced throughout the seemingly endless corridors. Most of the rooms were small and perfect for one or two people, though they hadn’t been meant for Watchers, who generally were considered short at six feet tall. The largest rooms by far were the galley and the area they had once used to use to hold cargo. Most people hung out in the cargo area, when they weren’t out on missions. The galley was mainly used by Spider and Alex – they were the only two on board who ate. Reaper also used it…when he was certain Alex was not going to be in there, and he could have the space to himself. It was the one place he could gather his ‘generals’ without the noise of the others bogging the meeting down.
When we entered the galley, Reaper was leaning close to his laptop, reading the screen with a purposeful stare. His raven-black hair was pulled back in a knot at the nape of his neck, and his silver eyes were lost in the information on the screen in front of him. I thought at first he didn’t notice our entrance, but then he held up a finger, to tell us to wait a moment. He quickly typed something, a response to whatever he had been reading, and then shut the screen.
“Are we interrupting?” I asked.
“Always,” Reaper teased with a smile.
Reaper’s eyes moved to Jackson, not only because Jackson took up most of the doorway. Reaper had a question for him – the question of someone that had to focus on business first and a reunion second.
“I’m glad to see you safe,” Reaper said. “Is Preacher on board? I would like to speak with him about some things that have come up in his absence.”
“He’s keeping an eye on things for us,” Jackson said.
“Oh. Of course,” Reaper said.
Jackson looked around the galley, getting his bearings in the unfamiliar surroundings. His smile was firmly in place as he eyed the rusted ship – he obviously found something funny. Perhaps it was a memory we were not privy to or the idea that we were brave enough to weather the sea in such an old vessel. The silence stretched for a moment as Reaper looked to Jackson to start the conversation, to fill us in on what he had found out. Daniel nudged Jackson in the arm with a roll of his eyes.
“Would you spit it out?” Daniel asked.
“Spitting is a disgusting habit,” Jackson said. “I never do it.”
Jackson grinned at us, thinking he was funnier than he was. I sighed and waited for him to get to the point. Daniel laughed at the expression on my face. Jackson finally had enough of playing around. He was serious in a second.
“The fortress is…a fortress,” Jackson said.
“Thanks for that,” Reaper said dryly.
“The fortress is actually built in to the mountain,” Jackson continued. “There are no places on the ground level that are easily accessible. Their venting is up high a
nd not easily gotten to with the usual means. They have rotating patrols, so that the landscape is always covered. When one patrol goes out of range of an area, another patrol has eyes on it. In a word, it is ‘impenetrable.’”
Jackson’s words fell hard on Daniel’s emotions. His face fell, and his green eyes took on a darkness I had seen more often than I was comfortable. It was the darkness of lost hope. He was afraid rescuing his parents was impossible. If Reaper noticed the emotion on Daniel’s face, he didn’t mention it. Reaper focused on what was possible, instead of what was not.
“Do you have a hiding place near the building?” Reaper asked Jackson.
Jackson nodded.
“We found a cave near the fortress,” Jackson said. “The patrols haven’t found it yet and Preacher has been keeping an illusion up to make it look like a part of the mountain. He said that someone skilled in illusion would be able to tell it’s there, but no patrols have come looking yet.”
“Very well,” Reaper said. “A small group of us will go to the cave and check out the area. I can only come up with a plan if I know what I am dealing with. Not that I don’t trust your opinion, but seeing is believing.”
“Suit yourself,” Jackson agreed. “When did you want to leave?”
“Give me fifteen minutes to get everything in order,” Reaper said. “Go ahead and call Margaret and Preacher back. I’ll have some of my people keep an eye out while Sara takes us to your cave.”
“Is Sara back?” I asked curiously.
Sara and Shawn, our resident taxis – walkers who could shift between one place and the next and appear anywhere instantly as long as they had a visual – had been taking people around the world per Reaper’s orders since we had first boarded the ship two weeks ago. There were still missions to go on and things Reaper needed to take care of around the world, if he was going to keep the Saints in a good position to take on Marcus when the time finally came. Daniel and I been taken by Sara and Shawn on our share of missions, and I had gone to see Ellen, to let her know where we were headed. I had promised to keep her informed. It wasn’t just her. Ellen, Sam, and Naomi were keeping the kids for us while we traveled to Alaska. The kids were not happy about staying out of the action, but Spider and I had both agreed that after the fight at Lorian’s, and the consequent violence that had resulted, the risk of keeping the kids around was too great. Spider wasn’t going anywhere – I wouldn’t have forced him to – but the others weren’t as geared toward our world as Spider. They deserved a chance at happiness. Ellen, Sam, and my de-facto aunt, Naomi, were the perfect people to give them that happiness.