by Platt, Sean
“How can you be sure of that?”
“Because it’s what we were sent here to do.”
Caleb shook his head. “What?”
“There were three of us among the Pioneers who weren’t looking to escape but were, in fact, working for the King, on an exploration mission. We were the original Harbingers. But once over here, after seeing the beauty of this planet and its people, we couldn’t allow the massacre. We instigated the infighting as an excuse to go after the portals. To close them all and prevent anyone from ever using them again.”
“Why didn’t you just tell the others what you were really doing?”
“They would have killed us.”
“Jesus,” Caleb said, soaking it all in. “So, what happens with John now?”
“He’s out of control; he’s a monster, short and simple. The Guardians have wanted him dead for years. If they can kill him, they can ensure the portal stays shut.”
Caleb stood and shook his head no. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so defensive of John, but something in his gut told him the man was innocent. “We can’t let them kill John. I don’t know how I know this, but he’s not the monster they’re making him out to be.”
“He killed your wife. You know that, right?”
“No,” Caleb said. “I was told that, but don’t know it. And I’m not sure I believe it.”
“Oh,” Duncan asked, an eyebrow raised, “then who killed Julia?”
“Maybe Jacob. I mean, he’s a feeder, too.”
“Yes, but if Jacob were able to find you, he wouldn’t waste time killing Julia or leaving notes to taunt you.”
“And John would? It doesn’t make sense.”
“I know you don’t remember, but John was … troubled. He had a lot of resentment that you got to live a normal life while he was stuck in the hospital. Maybe he wanted to make you pay for whatever imagined crimes you committed.”
“I’m still not buying it,” Caleb said, though it was hard to argue Duncan’s logic. The old man was right. He didn’t remember John. And he was sticking up for him based solely on the young child in his dream, and a feeling of responsibility for that boy.
But what if John’s nothing like that boy?
“Listen, son, I didn’t want to tell you this, I really didn’t, but we know John killed Julia.”
Caleb sat back down and leaned forward in his chair. “What do you mean you know?”
“Until recent events, the Guardians have been protecting John. Do you remember how you got that letter from the killer practically bragging that he murdered your wife?”
“Yes.”
“John’s fingerprints were all over it.”
“No. The results came back with no matches on the prints.”
“No matches because John wasn’t in the system. Not in the main system, but he was always in our other system, the one only a few have access to. We verified it.”
“What?” Caleb nearly jumped out of his seat, his face suddenly flush. “How the hell can you keep that from me?”
Duncan stayed in his seat, face calm.
“It was on a need-to-know basis. And frankly, that didn’t include you. Knowing who killed your wife wouldn’t have aided in his capture. He’s a ghost to the world. And to be honest, I wasn’t sure how far gone he was, and whether he could still be of use to us.”
“I didn’t need to know who killed my wife? What kind of bullshit is that to say to a man? To the agent tasked with finding the fucking killer? Who are you to decide what I need to know?”
Duncan’s face was instantly crimson. He stood, shedding his calm facade. “Who am I? I’m the only person who has been keeping you alive all these years, boy! Do you think the Guardians let you live out of the kindness of their hearts? They’ve set fire to civilizations; what’s an orphan or two? You and John are the only people standing between Jacob and the portal. Killing either of you can secure the world’s safety, and you dare to ask who I am to decide what you know? You’re breathing because I decided to let you. And don’t you ever forget it.”
Duncan punctuated the “forget it” by jabbing his index finger sharply into Caleb’s chest.
He fell back a step, swallowed his rage, and stared coldly at Duncan, years of love and loyalty replaced by bitterness.
“Then why didn’t you just let them kill me?”
Duncan met his eyes. “Because I love you like a son, and couldn’t let them take you away.”
Duncan’s expression of love seemed surprisingly sincere, dousing Caleb’s anger with shame. Duncan collapsed back into his chair, the fatigue in his frame suddenly making his thousands of years all the more evident.
“I’m sorry.” Caleb sat down and stared at nothing.
“Listen,” Duncan began, “I’ve spent years trying to find Jacob and kill him. I’ve spent an equal amount of time searching for John, if only to bring him in and grant him the same protection as you. But John has turned. The Darkness has taken hold of him, rooting deep into his soul just as it has in Jacob’s. I don’t think we can kill Jacob. He’s too well hidden. Too strong. But I think we can get to John. He’s grown sloppy, attracting attention. I think we can use you to find him.”
“What do you mean, use me?”
“Why else do you think we allowed you to stay on the case after your wife was a victim? You have a connection to the feeders. We used you to track them, then moved Omega in to clean up any feeders we discovered.”
“So, you’re saying I wasn’t tracking one killer, but several?”
“Yes, though most are connected to Harbinger, and you’ve helped us, even if you didn’t know it, to weaken their organization. But we had to protect you from getting too close to your brothers, for fear they could trigger the parasite inside you. When John killed Julia, we decided to leave you on the case, hoping you would draw him out and we could get to him.”
“Jesus,” Caleb said, “why the hell didn’t you tell me? I’ve been out chasing ghosts!”
“Your work is important, Caleb. And now that you’re starting to remember, we believe you can help us find John. He’s not nearly as well protected as Jacob, and you might just be able to take him out.”
“You want me to kill my brother?”
“If you don’t, the Guardians will kill you. There are people in the organization looking to take over, to grab the reins from the old man. They know who you are and what you are. And they only need to kill one of you to stop Jacob, so if it isn’t John, it has to be you.”
“How can we kill him? Cops shot the hell out of him, and he’s still running around without a scratch.”
“He’s not invulnerable. The feeders have two weaknesses. The sun, and … ” Duncan stood, went to his desk, pulled out a long wooden box, and handed it to Caleb. “This.”
Caleb opened the box. Inside was a single black blade.
“It’s a special onyx blade from the other side, blessed with a material that instantly kills the infection, and the person.”
Caleb stared at the knife, mesmerized by its beauty.
“Can you kill the man who killed your wife?”
Caleb nodded. “How do we do this?”
Sixty-Two
Abigail
Abigail sat on the warehouse floor, scribbling flowers on her sneakers with a black marker when Larry finally stirred on the couch. John had filled her in on what he remembered. She felt bad that Larry had betrayed him, but also had residual memories of Lydia’s love for Larry, which made her less inclined to hate him.
Abigail spent twenty minutes arguing with John, trying to get him to see things from Larry’s perspective. It was weird arguing with John, since she could feel his emotions and sense when she was close to pushing her luck — not that she thought John could be mad at her.
He was hurt by Larry. Part of it was because he’d put John’s brother and Hope in danger. That was a big part of his anger, but there was also the fact that Larry, his only real friend for most of his life, had betrayed him
.
She could feel John’s anger at himself for allowing himself to care so much about Larry. He’d lived most of his life insulated from others so he could avoid such emotional traps. That he’d been taken in by Larry felt like a big fat I told you so.
As John silently beat himself up, Abigail found herself finally understanding this man who’d rushed into her life and altered it forever. The more she knew him, the gladder she was that he was the one who saved her. He was a good man, and would never hurt her.
Thinking about John and Larry’s relationship allowed Abigail to push aside the subject swirling under the surface of everything — what would happen to her now that she was a vampire?
She didn’t want to ask and seem insensitive to the precarious position of John’s loved ones — in danger unless John and Larry found a way to save the day.
“Anybody get a tag on that truck?” Larry sat up, rubbing his swollen jaw. “Damn.”
“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” John stood from the table where he’d been watching the news then walked over and sat on a couch across from Larry.
“Guys, come on.” Abigail hopped up and slid the marker into her jeans. “We’ve gotta work together if we’re gonna get through this.”
John said nothing.
Larry looked over to Abigail. “Listen, Abi, I’m so sorry about everything.”
“It’s okay,” Abigail said softly before adding with a smile, “besides, I kind of like being a vampire.”
John rolled his eyes. Abigail giggled.
“You two have to make up,” she said. “I know what Larry did was messed up, and you have every right to be mad about your brother and Hope. But you can’t beat yourselves up for what happened to me. If you hadn’t come along, I’d still be locked in that monster’s closet. If Larry had let you die, then you’d never have come along and saved my life.”
“I didn’t save your life,” John said. “I made it worse. You’re cursed, infected with something that will never allow you to grow up, or live a normal life, something that will require you to kill others. Do you really think that’s an improvement over the life you had?”
Abigail stared at John. “You know what I went through. I’d rather die a million times than live another day in that closet.”
After a long silence, and since John had raised the subject, Abigail finally said what was on her mind. “How often am I going to have to kill? And what happens if I don’t?”
John glared at Larry then looked at Abigail. “I need to feed once a week, but I’m not sure if that’s the same for humans, or for kids.”
Abigail stared at her shoes, then, “What happens if I don’t feed?”
“Again, I’m not sure with people, but with my kind, the parasite acts against us, draining our life, until we either age aggressively or die.”
“You said you went years without feeding, right? You were able to live a normal life.”
“Humans are different, though, I think,” Larry answered instead of John. “While magick works to keep The Darkness at bay in John’s kind, infected humans are already dead. The parasite is the only thing keeping you alive. On the plus side, you can live for thousands of years.”
“Wait? You mean I’m already dead?” Abigail asked, sounding terrified.
“For a lack of a better word, yes,” Larry said, his voice calming. “In effect, the parasite is keeping you alive, allowing your body to function normally, even better than normal, actually. If we try to kill the parasite or use a spell to cure you, the parasite would probably kill you instantly.”
Abigail stared at her shoes again, trying to sort her new life’s mixed blessing. On the one hand, she was all powerful, no one would ever mess with her again, and she might live for a long time. On the other, she wasn’t really herself — there was something alien inside her, something she could sense just under the surface. Abigail felt almost as if she were being constantly spied on by something she could not interact with, and to which she was a slave.
And only killing would keep her “alive.”
Part of her wanted to cry, to mourn the life she’d never have. But Abigail had come to grips long ago that her life wasn’t normal and never would be.
“Can we kill only bad guys?” Abigail asked Larry. “Like we talked about?”
“There should be no shortage of bad guys to feed on,” Larry said with a smile. “Sure.”
“I need a hug,” Abigail said, looking at John.
He stood, and she embraced him then buried her face in his chest before turning to Larry. “You, too. Group hug.”
Larry shrugged and joined their embrace. Abigail looked up to see John’s eyes meeting Larry’s, cold at first before finally warming.
“Don’t use this as a chance to cop a feel on my sweet ass,” Larry said to John.
Abigail giggled, and that shook a laugh from a reluctant John. Yes, she decided, they would be okay.
Sixty-Three
John
John, Larry, and Abigail sat around a table in the “war room,” one of the darkened offices upstairs. Larry scribbled on paper, detailing his plan.
They would call one of Larry’s contacts to put it in the wind that John and Abigail were at the warehouse hiding out and that they’d be leaving tomorrow night, knowing the flow of information would lead to Jacob in little time. From there, they expected whatever remained of Jacob’s agents to strike during the day. Memories John had absorbed from the fallen soldiers suggested there were twelve more at Jacob’s immediate disposal.
“Then, they meet our army.” Larry nodded at Tiny, leaning against the wall while his men prepared for battle downstairs. “And we smoke their asses.”
“Hell yeah,” Tiny said with a huge smile.
“At the same time,” Larry continued, “once they attack, you, Tiny, and twenty of his best men will storm Jacob’s compound and kill whoever is there.”
They were, by John’s estimation, five miles from Jacob’s hiding spot. He was certain it could be easily found from the memories he’d stolen.
“This sounds good,” John said, “but what do we do with Abigail?”
She straightened in her chair. “What? I wanna fight.”
“No arguments.” John raised a finger to cut her off before she could plead.
“I’ve already got that taken care of,” Larry said. “In fact, I’m going to take her to one of our safe houses tonight.”
John stared at Larry, no need to articulate the threat: don’t let anything happen to her.
Larry nodded.
“Sounds like a decent plan. But what happens after that? We still have the feds after us. Some people there want me gone.” John was deliberately vague around Tiny, not wanting to risk unraveling a tapestry that might lead to his brother.
“We can stay hidden from them a lot longer than from Jacob,” Larry said. “I’ve got it all worked out. And, like we talked about before, once we kill Jacob, you reach out to the man who visited you. Let him know the threat’s been dealt with, and maybe they leave Hope alone.”
Assuming they haven’t already gotten to her.
John looked at Tiny. “Do your guys know what they’re in for? Do they understand the danger?”
“They see it as a challenge.” Tiny laughed. “These are some of the hardest thugs I know. Most importantly, they’re discreet. And a chance to kill some monsters? Shit, they’re all over that.”
“Yes, but they’re going up against at least one vampire and God only knows what else Jacob might bring,” John said. “They need to know that. They’ll have to shoot straight in the head, repeatedly. Then torch the bodies.”
Tiny laughed, a big infectious guffaw. “They ain’t scared of monsters, dude. I told you, these men are soldiers.”
John laughed. “I can’t believe we’re gonna try this.”
Larry and Tiny turned John’s laughter into a chorus.
Abigail stared at her sneakers, propped on the table. She glanced up and said, “Can I m
ake one request, since one, some, or all of us might be dead in a day or so?”
All eyes turned to her.
“I’d like a last meal. I haven’t had a burger and fries in forever.”
Sixty-Four
Jacob And Caleb
Jacob
Jacob sat alone in his darkened basement, surrounded by twenty-five red onyx stones neatly laid in a circle around him — stones from Otherworld that strengthened reception of the girl’s thoughts.
He watched through her eyes, listened through her ears, and could also hear her thoughts as the group plotted their ill-conceived invasion.
Jacob had to laugh at their arrogance, assuming a bunch of gangbangers could handle his army, depleted as it was. He also laughed at their ignorance. Not one had picked up on the fact that he’d planted a spell on the girl, allowing him to tap into her eyes, ears, and brain at will.
He watched her scribble crude drawings on her sneakers, feigning indifference, hoping the adults might be more forthcoming than if she paid strict attention. Smart girl.
He wondered if she were always so cunning or if it was an effect of The Darkness now living inside her.
Whatever the case, none of it mattered. He’d soon have the girl and would use her to lure his brothers back to him. Then he’d finally be able to leave this godforsaken hellhole.
Caleb
Caleb repeatedly twisted the pill bottle cap as he sat in his hotel room waiting for a phone call.
Duncan suggested he stay in a hotel, with a guard outside his room. They suspected that once the Guardians started searching for John using Trackers — Otherworlders who could sniff out their own kind — it would only be a matter of time before Jacob got wind of the search.
Caleb sorted through events in his head, wondering how John could kill his wife. His memories hadn’t returned, at least not beyond his dreams, but they were growing more vivid by the minute. He flashed back on the dream, seeing Johnny’s wide eyes staring back at him. So innocent, still a child, in stark contrast to Jacob’s cold-blooded murder of their mother. How could one brother turn on another?
