by Platt, Sean
“I suspect you know why you are here, Caleb?” Jacob asked.
“You want us to open the portal.”
“Ding! Ding! Give this man a prize!” Jacob said, his smile manic. “Are you going to help me get back home or not?”
“Please,” John stoked his lie for Jacob’s sake, “as I said on the phone, they’re holding someone dear to me hostage. Please, just give them what they want.”
“Okay,” Caleb said in an almost trance-like voice, drained of emotion.
“Christ, if I knew it was this easy to get everyone to agree with me, I would’ve done this years ago!” Jacob made a sound that resembled a laugh, then, “I hate to cut the family reunion short, but I believe there’s a little girl waiting for the sun to rise, so let’s get on with this. What do we need to do?”
John instructed Jacob to stand between himself and Caleb.
Jacob raised a finger to draw their attention, his mouth moving from smile to serpent. “If either of you tries anything, my men will shoot you dead. If you somehow survive that, my beasties will finish you off.” His voice fell to whisper. “And that’s nothing compared to the nightmare that will fall upon poor Abigail.”
John swallowed, clenched his teeth, and said, “The sooner you leave, the sooner our lives can go back to normal.”
Jacob smiled. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page, Brother.”
Jacob took his place between them. John reached out both hands and instructed Caleb to grab them. He did, and blue sparks of warm electricity danced between them.
The bond was made.
Caleb looked uneasy. “I’m not sure I remember what to do.”
“It’s okay,” John said. “You will.”
John chanted words memorized so many years ago, as natural to him as “mama” to an infant, ready and waiting.
The atmosphere rippled and hummed as particles energized around them. The world’s fabric seemed to grow thinner, almost a gauze. John spoke louder; Caleb followed. A large glowing hole appeared to their right as if someone had hollowed part of the world. It was dim at first, but John could make out a flowing river just beyond the gateway.
Jacob stared, transfixed by its beauty, and John thought for a moment he could see tears in his brother’s eyes.
“Home,” Jacob said as the air crackled with arcing waves of energy. The portal created a whirlwind, drawing air from this world into the next. Jacob stood, mesmerized. John closed his eyes and sent a broadcast to Tiny, who was set up with his men surrounding the compound.
NOW!
Gunfire erupted around them as Tiny’s army of men stormed the compound. Jacob turned, eyes wide as John released Caleb’s hands and clutched Jacob’s skull.
Jacob screamed as John burrowed into his memories, searching for Abigail’s location.
“Where is she?”
Jacob screamed, trying to push John away, unable to break free.
TELL ME!
John saw a familiar location — the field where he’d been buried, and the box with Abigail inside.
John hurled Jacob backward with full force. He tumbled to the ground then leaped to his feet and raced toward the portal.
One of Tiny’s thugs moved to intercept but made the mistake of allowing Jacob to touch him. He fed, swallowing the man’s life force, mid-run. With raw power dripping from his fingers, Jacob launched a wave of energy at John and slammed him into the staircase.
Chunks of plaster rained from above.
Jacob turned back to the portal, ignoring the gunfire around them. Caleb was lost in the chaos, and John couldn’t see him. Gangsters and agents were everywhere, fighting or wounded, but no sign of Caleb.
John searched with his mind, but there was too much going on to concentrate.
An explosion rocked the house — something horrible breaking free from its confines in the basement. John leaped against the wall behind him, launched himself forward, and flew straight at Jacob, wrapping him up before they both tumbled backward, away from the portal.
John straddled Jacob, his fists a battering ram on his older brother’s face, managing little more than adding a blush to his cheeks. Fire licked the walls, rolling up the stairs from whatever armageddon was erupting in the basement. Smoke billowed through the room. Gunshots echoed, and bodies fell around them.
Jacob spit a mouth full of blood then looked up, enraged. “Why don’t you just let me go?”
“Because I know this won’t be the end, “John said. “You’ll come back; you’ll bring your monsters and ruin this planet.”
Jacob smiled. “Why do you care? These people are looking to lynch you, and you’re going to be their savior? You’re a fool.”
John glanced back and saw a pistol on the floor. He reached out, drawing it to him. Then, pistol in hand, John pushed Jacob’s forehead back and shoved the barrel under his brother’s chin.
A sudden gust of wind whipped from behind. John’s arms were suddenly pinned by something massive, and he was yanked away from Jacob. He kicked desperately, his feet finding the massive beast, but his boot heels merely sank into the gel of monster flesh.
Jacob stood, grabbed the gun from John, clicked his tongue, and put the barrel at his brother’s temple. “You were always so weak.”
A gunshot rang out, and Jacob’s hand burst open, blood spewing. The gun, and mangled fragments of his hand, fell to the floor. His eyes widened as he spun toward his assailant.
Tiny was holding a shotgun and wearing a smile. “Time to die, freak.” He pumped the gun and blasted again, this time hitting Jacob’s left leg, causing him to drop with an earsplitting scream.
“Get him!” Jacob yelled.
Two Harbinger gunmen aimed at Tiny and shot. Bullets slammed into his chest, but Tiny didn’t fall. Instead, he rolled to the ground then sprang up, dropped his shotgun, and in each beefy hand, seized the gunmen by the necks, feeding from them as their bodies blazed beneath his touch.
“Oh, hell yeah!” Tiny shouted, his grin getting bigger.
Jacob stared in horror. “You turned him?”
John smiled.
“GET HIM!” Jacob screamed again, this time at the beast holding John.
Released, John fell to the ground, and for the first time saw the creature ― a gray behemoth that looked like a two-thousand-pound man, though surprisingly nimble. Where his hands should’ve been, there were two clawed fingers. His face was a misshapen, melted mess of features, including three eyes, a pair of mouths, and rows of jagged teeth. He was naked, and covered in warts, with no genitalia. The creature growled, its cry a cross between man and bear, then swung at Tiny, knocking him back hard.
John leaped to his feet and sent a burst of energy at the thing’s legs, causing it to stumble and scream from both mouths.
John ran to Tiny, helping as three of his men surrounded the creature, each unloading their automatic weapons at it. The fire was now a blaze; smoke sooted their vision.
John scanned the scene. Jacob’s men — at least all he could see — were dead. A dozen or so of Tiny’s had died, while many lay wounded on the ground. But neither John nor Tiny could help them up with the promise of death at their touches. John still couldn’t find Caleb but saw Jacob limping toward the portal. The portal had grown three times larger and was now pulling smoke and fire into its vortex.
John could feel the sun about to rise, time ticking away. He had to reach Abigail before the sun but couldn’t let Jacob get to the portal.
“Where’s Larry?” John shouted over the din at Tiny.
“He’s outside, popping snipers, last I saw.”
“Tell him Abigail’s in the field where I was buried. He’s got to get her if I can’t.”
“The field where you were buried?” Tiny confirmed.
“Yes. Go!”
Tiny was already a blur as John raced toward the portal. Inches from the aperture, John grabbed his brother.
Jacob shot another wave of energy out, knocking John to the ground. Jacob was on
him in an instant, grabbing John by his hair and dragging him toward the portal.
“No!” John screamed, kicking against a grip he had no hope of breaking.
Caleb
Caleb woke up, head pounding, surrounded by smoke and fire. He wasn’t sure what knocked him out, but he felt okay. He scanned the chaos in search of his brothers and saw the two men warring at the portal’s mouth.
While he was passed out his head swarmed with memories. At first, he thought they were merely dreams. But soon he realized that no, something had been unlocked in his head.
He remembered everything — what he’d done, and how John had tried to protect him from the memories of his sins. John wasn’t the monster he thought he was hunting. That monster lived in the mirror. And while Caleb was confused about much, and couldn’t wait to suss things out, one thing was certain: Johnny was his little brother, and it was Caleb’s job to protect him at any cost.
He couldn’t allow Jacob to cross over.
Caleb pulled at his belt, ripped the blade from its tape, and ran toward Jacob with the speed of a demon unleashed.
John
John looked up and saw Caleb sprinting toward them, a black blade in his hands.
Caleb’s scream turned to a war cry as he closed the distance, causing Jacob to spin around and release John’s hair. He fell to the ground and rolled out of the way as Caleb sank the knife into Jacob’s chest, his momentum shoving both men into the fiery vortex.
John screamed, reaching in vain for Caleb’s hand before it vanished.
“Shit,” a bouncing echo from one of Tiny’s men, “Five-O is here.”
John stared at the portal, waiting for Caleb to reappear on either side, but the gateway was filled with smoke, and John couldn’t see a thing.
“Caleb!”
No response.
He heard someone call his name, but it wasn’t Caleb.
Abigail, from somewhere in his mind.
John, where am I? I’m in a box and can’t get out … I’m scared.
John stared at the portal, half tempted to jump through and bring Caleb back. But he had no idea what would happen once he crossed over. If the portal closed with him on the other side, he’d be trapped, possibly forever.
John … can you hear me?
John closed his eyes. I’m on my way.
John met with Tiny outside. The remnants of his crew had disappeared into the dark as flashing lights from fire trucks and police cars lit the scene. One of the cops shouted for John and Tiny to stay put. John answered with a blast of energy, knocking the man back, as Tiny hopped into the driver’s side of the van. John climbed in and rode shotgun.
Tiny checked the rearview as they raced away, but the cops were too busy dealing with a burning building and fleeing gangsters to give chase.
John closed his eyes, trying to reach Abigail.
Nothing.
Tiny got on his phone and dialed one of his men. “Hey, who’s with Larry? Oh, you are? Put him on the phone.”
Tiny handed the phone to John.
“Larry, are you there yet?”
“We’re almost there. We’ll call you the minute we are.”
“No, stay on the phone,” John ordered, not wanting to let go of his only tether to Abigail.
Seventy-One
Larry And John
Larry
Larry and B arrived in the clearing where John had been buried and betrayed. The box was in the wide open, fully above ground. B stopped the car, and Larry raced toward the coffin, a crowbar in one hand, his phone in the other.
“The box is here!” he said to John.
Larry banged on the box. “Abi, can you hear me?”
“Larry?” she said from inside, her voice frail.
“Yeah, honey, it’s me, I’m gonna get you out in a sec.”
“I don’t feel so good, Larry. I feel … weak … and hungry.”
“What’s that?” John called out. “What’s wrong?”
“Shit,” Larry said. “I think she’s in need of feeding.”
“Open the box!” John screamed.
“She might attack us,” Larry said, “while she might not kill me, she can kill B. Hold on, I’m putting the phone down.”
Larry yelled at B, who was approaching to help.
“Get outta here!” Larry yelled. “She’s a vampire, and she needs to feed!”
B stood for a moment as Larry’s words sank in.
Abigail kicked at the box, growling, likely sensing a meal close by.
“Leave the van, and take off. Don’t stop running.”
B’s eyes widened; he fled without a word.
Larry waited for a moment until B was out of site then pried at the locks with a crowbar.
The locks fell, and Abigail burst from the box, her eyes wide and dark, hands twitching, nose sniffing the air.
“Abi!” Larry shouted, trying to rock the girl from her trance.
She leaped over Larry, bounding toward two gunmen who appeared from behind.
“Freeze, FBI!” one shouted, aiming at Abi.
She jumped into the air as gunshots ripped through the night. The gunmen missed her as she flew past the man on the right, hooking his neck with her palm and connecting, causing him to fall to the ground convulsing, burning alive as she swallowed his life.
“We’ve got a feeder!” another agent shouted.
Larry realized they were surrounded.
One of the agents shot at Abi.
They weren’t using bullets, though. He saw a glowing green dart sticking out of her left leg.
She fell to the ground like a drugged lioness, gnashes turning to whimpers as her body convulsed.
“Abi!” Larry shouted just before a second dart sent him to the ground.
John
John and Tiny watched from afar as the FBI vans left the field. John felt utterly helpless, unable to stop them from taking Abigail.
“Should we follow?” Tiny asked.
John wanted to, more than he’d ever wanted anything, but something told him not to. He didn’t know if it was instinct, something he couldn’t quite understand, or maybe fear whispering in his ear that Abigail would die if he went against the Guardians. She was alive, for now. And he had an idea where they were taking her.
“No, we wait,” John said, noticing the agents had left Larry handcuffed on top of the box. They also left an envelope, no doubt for John, lying on top of Larry.
From what John could tell, they’d only knocked him out. Why would they leave him instead of taking him prisoner?
Once the agents were gone, Tiny drove onto the field, lights out. John hopped from the car and glanced at the violet sky. They didn’t have long to find somewhere to hide for the day. John looked down as Larry woke from the sedative, squirming against the cuffs behind his back.
A white envelope was taped to his chest. John reached down, grabbed the envelope, and opened it.
The letter read: John, let’s talk. ~ Duncan, followed by his phone number.
Seventy-Two
John
Two weeks later
John sat on the deck, staring out at the water.
It seemed like a lifetime since he’d sat here with his dog, Calvin. Now he had Larry, his other not-quite-as-faithful companion, beside him, knocking back beers while awaiting Duncan’s arrival. John had tried getting Larry to leave, but Larry insisted, “Fuck no, we’re in this together.”
John admired his friend’s loyalty, even if it had wavered for one disastrous moment.
It had been two weeks since Abigail was taken by the Guardians. Two weeks since he last saw Caleb. Two weeks since Tiny and his crew left for parts unknown. Two weeks since he’d last picked up on Abigail’s signals.
Duncan had assured him in a phone call that she was being taken care of, but John didn’t like the sound of that at all. Duncan said they would have a chance to discuss the matter soon. Soon meant tonight.
Duncan’s car arrived just past 10 p.m.
Duncan joined them on the docks, the smell of his cologne arriving well ahead of him. He requested a private chat with John. Larry nodded at them both then offered his chair to Duncan and headed toward the house.
“It’s a beautiful night,” Duncan said.
“Where is she?” John asked.
“In our custody, being looked after, of course.”
“Like you looked after me?”
Duncan laughed. “She’s quite the fighter. Lots of potential.”
John turned to the old man. “Fuck you.”
“Such foul language. You always were the tough guy, weren’t you, John? Makes me wonder why you never wanted to join us.”
“I wasn’t interested in being an assassin for your little cabal. All you rich, powerful men dictating world events without the slightest care for people. The lot of us pawns in your game.”
“Correction, they are pawns, not us. Not the Others. Besides, we look out for their interests. We’re the only thing keeping the scourge away. We protected this world at great personal expense. You should know that better than anyone.”
John sighed into a swig of beer.
“What do you want with her?”
“You opened the portal, John. We have soldiers surrounding it, waiting for God knows what to come from the other side. You and Caleb changed everything. The Guardians must now be more vigilant than ever, eradicating all Harbingers and magick to prevent an apocalypse. We need Others on our side. Especially ones with powers such as yours … or Abigail’s.”
“You’re a monster, no better than Jacob.”
“Sometimes, the world requires monsters. If we don’t protect humanity, who will?”
John shook his head. “She’s only a child.”
“But such a powerful one. And she has quite the hunger.”
