by Melissa Frey
Fire
Kayla swallowed hard as she entered the room behind Mandy and Grady. She struggled to keep her eyes on everything but the man lying unconscious on the cold sterile bed in the middle of the room. She stared at the plastic cushioned pastel-orange chair by the bed that Mandy quickly sank into, Grady’s perusal of the nurse’s chart on the side wall with all kinds of indeterminate scribbles on it, and the covered window on the far wall, the thick blinds letting in very little light. Which just added to the dismality of the whole situation, in Kayla’s opinion. As did the incessant beeping of Roger’s heart monitor.
After having looked at everything else she could think of, Kayla reluctantly turned toward the unconscious man in the middle of the room. Roger Stanford, who, just a day earlier, had been laughing and talking with her and the others, was now lying on a callously white hospital bed, fighting for his life.
Kayla’s fists clenched at her sides. What kind of people could do this to another human being? What had the man lying motionless in front of her with a thick bandage on his neck ever done to deserve this?
The answer was simple: nothing. He didn’t deserve this. Neither of them did.
A single tear escaped the corner of her eye.
She fought to keep the anger from her face, for Mandy. Kayla looked over at her friend with a compassion she had to force herself to feel until she really saw Mandy’s face.
Mandy’s cheeks were stained with tears, as had been the norm for the last twenty hours or so. But Kayla noticed another layer—the corners of her eyes had drooped, her light brown eyebrows were furrowed—that told a more intimate story.
She was in incredible pain. A sorrow so great for a man that she’d only known for a few days was evident in the way she sat hunched over in the chair, avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room. Evident in the way that one look at Roger set off another wave of tears.
Mandy cared for him—Kayla could see that. Perhaps she’d loved him since she’d met him—or would have, if she’d been given the chance. Kayla knew that Mandy’d cared for Justin’s mother as well; that was just the kind of person Mandy was. Kind, compassionate, loving. Everything good in a person.
Kayla desperately wished she could take away the pain, even take it on herself. That someone so tender would have to go through something so harsh was almost unbearable. As Mandy broke down completely and fell out of the chair onto her knees, Kayla knelt down beside her and put her arms around her, let her cry.
As her friend struggled against the crushing weight of grief and loss, Kayla just held her. Because she’d been there. Because she understood how Mandy felt. Because she knew that anything anyone said didn’t make it right, no matter how good their intentions.
Kayla stared at a spot on the wall above Roger’s head and thought of Justin’s mother. She knew, rationally, that death was just a part of life. She knew, rationally, that her own mother had not left her intentionally, or by choice.
But sometimes it felt that way.
As a result, she never allowed herself to get close to anyone. How could she, when they would inevitably disappear? First her mother, then Jonathan, the only man she had ever loved before Grady, had left her. Why did everyone she loved leave?
So her new relationship with Grady terrified her. She let herself think about it again, in the context of such a great loss. Could she survive it if he left?
But something in the back of her mind—a small but persistent voice—gave her the faintest glimmer of hope. Her mind had gone dark, despair clouding it, but this voice seemed to light it up, shining the smallest flicker of light into the dark recesses of her mind. It steadily grew until it illuminated her every thought.
Suddenly, she felt no more despair. Only hope. She knew, without knowing why, that everything would be fine. Despite the tragedy of yesterday, she knew that things would work out.
And now her head was clear. She began to think about the situation, analyze it, figure it out.
She recalled the scene at the house, swallowing hard as she pushed through her unwillingness to recall something so horrible.
The blood on the cabinet—there had been a fight. It was too spread out to think any differently. Footprints in the pooled blood—too many to belong to just one or two people. There had been at least three attackers.
The “who” was obvious. The Mercenaries had attacked again.
But why? Simply for the fun of it? They had killed before, seemingly without remorse. And now, again, they killed someone close to the four of them. Another warning, as before?
Of course. That had to be it. Another warning, another attempt to thwart their search. Just like the charm still around her neck . . .
The tiny light persisted, filling her mind with hope despite her desolate thoughts. With her mind’s eye, she stared at it. It bounced and flickered as though a fire. Where was this light coming from? Though it was in her mind, the light didn’t feel like it was coming from within her, but somehow coming from outside of her.
Then, without warning, the light blinked out. Hopelessness once again flooded her mind. The tears again welled up in her eyes. She gazed through the watery haze at the young woman next to her.
Mandy had stopped crying. She was looking up at Kayla with questions in her eyes.
Upon meeting Mandy’s gaze, Kayla reached down and squeezed her friend’s hand.
Kayla wiped her eyes and tried to force a smile. She knew Mandy needed her to be strong right now. She tightened her hold on Mandy’s hand and pulled them both to their feet.
Mandy graciously returned Kayla’s forced smile with a genuine, albeit teary, one of her own. Mandy went over to Grady, who’d been looking at Roger’s chart, and started asking him some questions about the gibberish on it. Surprisingly, Grady knew the answers to most of Mandy’s questions. Kayla wondered idly if he spent all his free time watching those medical shows, then smiled to herself at the thought. What free time would a man with multiple degrees really have?
Kayla stood watching the scene, taking it in. Her smile faded as the hopelessness she felt began to once again permeate her mind, clouding her thoughts, darkening her mood. Then, in an instant, that tiny sliver of hope returned, flashing to life in the back of her mind, and she realized in looking at Mandy and Grady that she had people who loved her, cared for her. Her heart swelled.
This time, the light danced and flickered, quickly growing into a blazing fire. She again stared at it through her mind’s eye, her thoughts abruptly silenced as she gazed in awe at the fire’s white-hot center.
The fire blazed, burning hot in her mind, devouring her every thought. A gentle warmth started in her head and soon encompassed her entire body, growing warmer with every passing second. It was soon uncomfortably hot. And getting hotter.
Kayla grabbed her head, knowing full well it wouldn’t do any good, and squeezed her eyes shut. She sunk to the cushioned chair Mandy’d just abandoned, the one right next to Roger’s bed, a small moan escaping her lips.
Grady whipped around at the sound, and ran to her side. Mandy was at her other side in the next instant.
Kayla couldn’t speak. A wildfire was burning through her mind, as though trying to swallow up her entire consciousness.
She couldn’t think. Couldn’t even breathe. The fire was consuming her, traveling out of her brain and throughout her entire body.
Only one thought escaped the torture. It was not of Grady, Mandy, or even of wanting the burning to stop. It was only of Justin.
Justin?
She tried to ignore the burning as she considered the thought. Why Justin?
Then, as if on cue, the fire stopped burning. Oh, the light was there, blazing bright into every part of her body, but it was no longer hurting her, burning her from the inside. It was cleansing her, cleaning out every dark, desolate part of her being, replacing it again with hope.
Hope?
Grady just stood there, staring at Kayla with eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Then Kayla
started smiling and he instantly froze, a huge lump suddenly in his throat. What was happening?
Kayla slowly opened her eyes. But her mind was far from the hospital room.
The fire was speaking to her. Not audibly, of course, but she knew what it was trying to tell her. She watched as it ebbed slowly, then ignited suddenly, then ebbed again, as though trying to relay a message that only her confused mind could decipher.
Unlike her visions of the past, she saw no pictures. She saw no easy path to take, no sure course of action. Instead, she felt it.
Justin was alive.
She blinked, opening her eyes this time to the small hospital room. She took stock of her limbs, her torso, her head. Everything seemed intact. Her left hand was resting on her lap; her right hand was clutching at her chest. She just stared at it.
Suddenly she realized her hand was cramping. She slowly released it, finger by finger.
As the feeling in her hand came back, she noticed something sharp poking her palm. What was that?
She turned her closed fist over and opened it. She was grasping the charm she’d had around her neck all this time.
But it was what she saw next that caught her breath in her throat.
Directly underneath the charm, the exact shape and size, was a red mark burned into her flesh. How on earth did she not feel that?
Her eyes shot to Grady’s. He’d already seen the burn and stared back at her wide-eyed, crouching down beside her and reaching for her hand. His touch was so gentle Kayla almost forgot she’d even been injured.
“Grady . . .” she managed to choke out. “What . . . what happened?”
Grady was still examining her hand. “It started glowing while you were . . . unconscious. I didn’t realize you’d grabbed it.”
“I don’t even remember doing it.” Kayla shifted in her seat, still staring at her burned palm.
Grady set her hand back in her lap, then headed out of the room without another word.
Kayla didn’t even realize Mandy was at her other side until she spoke. “Uh, Kayla? What is that?”
Kayla blinked, then remembered. She hadn’t told Mandy about the necklace.
She met Mandy’s gaze for the first time since she’d entered the room. “This was mailed to me in Florida, before we even knew of the Mercenaries, the Old Ones, any of it.”
Mandy swallowed hard. “What does it mean?”
Kayla gingerly fingered the charm, then picked it back up once she was certain it wasn’t hot. It was actually a little cold. “I honestly don’t know. This . . .”
Mandy interrupted so swiftly that Kayla blinked. “What if this is the Mercenaries’ symbol? With this symbol etched into the walls of those caves . . . maybe they are more connected to all of this than we think. Maybe that’s why they’re doing all of this—the car bomb, my attack, Roger and Jan—they’re trying to protect the books.”
Kayla stared at the wall a moment before nodding. “That makes sense. I always felt like this was a warning of some kind.”
Mandy nodded back. “To stop us from ever finding those books, I would imagine.” She glanced over at Roger, placing her hand on his. She began stroking the back of his hand gently. The silence in the room lingered a little longer than Kayla would’ve liked.
“Kayla?”
“Yes?”
Mandy hesitated for a moment. “What did you see? In your vision, I mean. That was a vision, right?”
Kayla nodded slowly. “Yes, but it was different than the others.”
Mandy cocked her head to one side, her hand still on Roger’s. “How so?”
Kayla gulped. “I didn’t really see anything. I more like felt it.”
Mandy’s eyes widened. “Felt what?”
“Justin.”
Mandy gasped.
“I felt him. It was like he was telling me he’s okay.” Kayla smiled at her friend.
Mandy was still gaping. “So you heard him?”
Kayla bit her bottom lip. “Not really. I can’t really explain it; I just know he’s alive. I just don’t know where.” She frowned.
Mandy nodded. “Then we keep looking. Dr. Coolidge said he was just here. Maybe when Grady gets back we should head to his parents’ house. He may have gone back there.” Then she gasped as something occurred to her. “Kayla . . . what if he went back there to try to track down the mercenaries?” Her next words were strangled. “They will kill him.”
Kayla stood and put her arm around her friend’s shoulders, forcing what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “We’ll just have to find him first.”
But despite her show of confidence, Kayla wasn’t so sure they would be able to find him in time. What if Justin did go after the mercenaries? It sure seemed like something he would do.
And what if they didn’t find him first?
CHAPTER 24
Secret
Belize Rainforest
“Na-um.” His whispered name seemed to come out of the air. He was too confused to answer.
But then he saw Holun over with the other soldiers, clearly ignoring them and looking straight at him across the clearing. He nodded once, and Holun sprinted to his side.
Na-um turned to stalk into the forest, Holun on his heels, before stopping to talk. “What is it, Holun?”
Holun licked his lips. “I’ve been searching for the Elders, like you said. And I noticed that something is wrong.”
Na-um leaned in. “What is it?”
“The Western Detachment . . .”
“Yes?”
“I can’t see them.”
Na-um blinked. “What?”
“I’ve been checking in with the four detachments, but I cannot see the Western Detachment. It’s almost as if . . . as if someone is blocking me.”
Na-um was breathing hard now. “Any idea who?”
Holun started to shake his head, then stopped. “What if . . .” he lowered his voice considerably. “What if it’s the Elders?”
Na-um considered it. “It could be.”
“What does it mean?” Holun’s brow furrowed.
Na-um crossed his arms. “I think the Elders are blocking you somehow. We’ll have to find a way around it.” Na-um closed his eyes, calling out in his mind to his Commander in Montana. Nothing.
So he tried another man he knew was there. Still nothing. So he tried another—nothing. He kept going, tried to contact every man up there . . .
Finally. One man answered. “Yes, sir?”
Na-um addressed the soldier by name before continuing. “What is happening up there?”
Na-um could almost see the eager look on the man’s face. “Well, sir, the plan was successful.”
Na-um sensed he needed to choose his words carefully. “And which plan was that?”
“The plan to attack the Americans.”
Na-um had to bite his lip to keep from yelling. “Were they hurt?”
He could almost hear the smile in the soldier’s voice. A dutiful soldier, just following orders. “The older ones were. The parents of one of the Four were killed.”
Na-um felt himself start to burn on the inside. He’d done his research; he knew exactly who this soldier was talking about. “The younger man’s parents?”
“Yes, sir.”
Na-um didn’t know where to go from here.
“Uh, sir?”
“Yes?”
“Why are you not asking the Commander for the report?”
Na-um frowned. He didn’t want to alert anyone—least of all one of his newest and most impressionable soldiers—to the fact that he didn’t know what was going on. “He was not available; he must be very busy.”
“Oh, yes, sir. I heard that the Elders were having him check in with them often.” The man stopped abruptly. “Did they not check in with you as well?”
That was the wrong question. Na-um made an effort to handle it with a clear head. “I have not had a chance to talk to the Elders.”
“Okay, sir.”
Na-um forc
ed a smile into his voice. “Please accept my congratulations on your successful mission.”
“Yes, sir, thank you.”
Na-um cringed as he severed the connection. Why were the Elders usurping his authority? What gave them the right? And why wouldn’t they tell him?
And how dare they issue orders that directly defied his!
He sighed. He really couldn’t do much, not against the Elders. They had given him this authority—now it seemed they wanted to take it away. As much as he hated it, this was not his choice to make.
He opened his eyes and turned back to Holun. “The parents of one of the Four have been killed.”
Holun gasped.
Na-um continued. “It seems the Elders gave the order. And nearly all of my men up there are blocked from me. I was lucky to find the one I did.”
Holun stared for a moment before finding his voice. “So what are you going to do now?”
Na-um drew a slow breath. “I am not certain. Perhaps the Elders thought my approach was too passive, too risky. I’ve never known them to supersede my orders, though. They must think the Secret is in danger of being discovered.”
Holun’s heart skipped a beat. He had heard the stories of the Secret throughout his childhood. The Secret was to never be revealed. The Clan was in existence solely to prevent this from happening.
Na-um broke into Holun’s thoughts. “Assemble the men in the east clearing, the one a good distance from here.” He paused. “We’re starting a training exercise.”
Holun eyed his superior, curious as to what he was going to do next, but Na-um wasn’t sharing. He wondered why.
Na-um was seething, and he struggled to keep it from his face. The Elders had overridden him, ignored his authority—that they had given him!—and had commanded his men to perform horrible actions to stop the Americans. Na-um hated what his superiors had done, but hoped this would at least keep the Americans from continuing their misguided quest to uncover the Secret.
He needed to get out of here. Na-um bolted into the woods, away from Holun, running until he was out of earshot of his men. He needed to be able to think without distraction.
