by LJ Rivers
“I bet it does.” With a slight wave, I went to find a seat before she coughed up a lung.
There would normally be four or five other passengers, a couple of them regulars like me, but today there was only one. He sat on the seat behind the driver, the one I usually sat in myself. On any other day, the sight of a uniformed police officer would be reassuring, as it should be. Today, however, he gave me the chills. I had no reason to suspect him of being anything other than a decent, hard-working civil servant on his way to or from work, with every intention of protecting citizens. The recent events—and maybe even more, the text from Charlie—had definitely had their effect on me.
You’re really being silly, Ru!
Annoyed at myself for thinking like that, I still decided to walk all the way to the back seats.
As the bus began pulling out of the lay-by, a loud hammering on the side was followed by “Wait up, please!” The driver hit the brakes and opened the door.
“Cheers, mate! Oh, sorry, ma'am! I forgot my bloody keys, would you believe?” Nick gave the driver a thankful pat on the shoulder and drew his hand across his forehead in relief. He swiped his card and sat by the window across from the policeman.
“Nick,” I called.
He turned, smiled, and rose to come to join me.
“Where are you going?” I asked when he flopped down next to me. “You’re not working tonight, are you?”
“I wasn’t, but Tom called me and asked if I could step in. He had a bit of a bender last night.” He wiggled his hand in front of his mouth.
The bus picked up speed again, and I recalled my first encounter with Nick. He had made a really bad first impression, and Jen especially despised him. He did set me up with this job, however, and throughout the few nights we had worked together, he had turned out to be much nicer than at our first encounter at the Old Willow.
“What do you want, tickets or popcorn?” he asked.
“You decide, either works for me.”
“Let’s flip.” He held up a coin on the tips of his fingers. “Eagle says you’re on tickets.”
“Eagle?”
He showed me the coin. “American Silver Eagle. A dollar, basically. From last year’s vacation.”
He flicked the dollar in the air and caught it with his right hand before slapping it onto the back of his left. “Nah, you’re pushing popcorn and Snickers bars tonight.”
“Did you see the programme?” I said. “I’ll be shocked if we see ten people tonight. It was quiet yesterday, too, with that Russian film. I don’t think I would have understood it if the director himself explained it. And tonight isn’t any better.”
“What, East German art films from the mid 70s? Tom has a weird taste.”
“Almost. Hungarian. But I’ll catch the one at seven myself, actually.”
As we spoke, he rolled the coin back and forth over his knuckles. The large dollar seemed to float; it was quite impressive. I blinked when the coin disappeared, only to reappear the next second, together with two others. Nick manipulated the three metal discs with expert control.
“That’s pretty cool,” I said. “Where did you learn that?”
He swiftly closed his fist around the coins and put them in his pocket. “That’s just a muscle memory exercise,” he said. Did he blush? “My dad taught me when I was little. Keeps my tics in check.”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Hey, no problem. I wasn’t even aware I did it. Ah, we’re here.”
He stood and took a small step back to let me out first.
The cinema wasn’t one of the big multi-screen ones you’d find in central. The owners had specialised in niche films, although they had to include the major Hollywood blockbusters every now and then to keep the wheels turning. This Sunday, the menu consisted of a rerun of an old 80s gem I had grown to love, Betty Blue, as well as the premiere of a Hungarian thing called Love Hate Love, running at 7 and 9.30 pm respectively.
I started watching Betty Blue together with about eight others but dozed off for the first time ever while at the cinema. When Zorg started fighting the orderlies at the hospital, I woke up with a loud “Huh?”
“Shush,” said a girl three rows in front.
I waved a “sorry” and snuck out, almost cursing myself for falling asleep during that film. Had it been Sex in the City: The Movie I could accept it, but Betty Blue? I shook my head.
Nick sat behind the glass at the ticket counter, his hand keeping his head off the desk. I crossed the empty foyer and tapped the glass.
“Sold any tickets?” I asked my half-asleep colleague.
He stretched his arms above his head and let a jaw-breaking yawn finish completely before answering. “Nope. Guess a late night with some artsy-fartsy Hungarian flick has gone totally out of fashion.”
The black and white monitor behind him showed the end credits for Betty Blue.
“I’ll clean up in there.” I nodded at the screening room. “It should take me all of thirty-eight seconds.”
“We can probably close at half ten,” Nick said. “If no one comes, that is.”
“Suits me fine,” I said and went to sweep the floors.
Ten minutes later, we stood by the kiosk counter, looking at the black handles on the clock above the entrance. Two minutes left.
“What the hey,” Nick said. “If we leave now, we’ll catch the 9.37 back to campus. You in?”
“In a world where every rule was to be obeyed, they chose to break them all,” I said, trying to lower my voice to film trailer levels.
“Students by day, outlaws by night,” Nick replied, doing a much better impression than me.
He walked towards the ticket booth where the light switches were, while I leaned behind the sweet counter to grab my jacket.
A bright flash filled the foyer and blinded me completely. I rubbed my eyes, trying to get rid of the yellow dots. My vision slowly adjusted to the darkness, a small gleam of light coming through the glass entrance doors from the street.
“Holy shit,” Nick shouted from the back room. “Must have blown the gaskets. You ok, Ruby?”
“I’m fine,” I called. “We should probably call Tom, though.”
A thud and a muted scream sounded through the dark foyer. Nick probably hit his knee on the chair.
“Nick?”
Silence.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and switched on the flashlight before moving towards the back room. “Nick? Don’t mess around, please. It’s not funny.”
The idiot was bound to be hiding behind the door. I had no intention of letting him scare me, which was a total lie. Inside, my heart was pounding.
“Come on. We’ll miss the bus!” I kicked the door wide open, expecting to hear an “Ouch” or something. Instead, the door slammed into the small safe behind it. The thin ray of light from my phone landed on Nick’s slumped body.
“Nick!” I dropped to my knees beside him and grabbed his shoulder. “Are you ok?”
He didn’t answer. His chest moved ever so slightly. Thank the Lady! He was still breathing. He must have tripped in the darkness and knocked himself out. Healing him would be easy, I figured, but I had to make sure I stopped the magic before he woke up. I didn’t want him to know.
At first, I started to draw my breath as I usually did when I wanted to summon the healing power. Then I remembered my training with Professor Kaine. No need to make a big song and dance of it, I told myself. Just let it loose. I put my hand on Nick’s chest and sent a warm flow of healing magic into his body. I kept an eye on his face, ready to let go the instant I spotted a reaction.
I yelped as something tightened over my chest, jerking me backwards. My hand slipped from Nick’s still body. There hadn’t been enough time to heal him. Instinctively, I tried to wiggle free, reaching for the rope squeezing the air from my lungs, but my arms were locked to my body. My heart raced in panic, as the realisation hit me. The Harvester from Richmond Park was back. I had avoide
d running in the park since, and he’d found me anyway.
My heels hit the threshold as my attacker dragged me into the foyer. Inside me, the forces I had inherited from my ancestors stirred, and I let them surface as a force field in my palms. As I prepared to flick it back to encapsulate my attacker, a sting of pain shot through my neck, sending spasms of electricity through my body.
“No point, missy,” said a raspy voice. “Ulfius, put it on. Quickly!”
There were two of them?
Anger replaced my fear, and I called upon my firepower instead. A pair of hands locked around my neck, and I released all my energy in a single burst.
The hands let go, and the owner screamed like a wounded dog right next to my ear. “Zap that Maggot again. She’s on fire!”
Bracing for another shock of electricity, I gasped for air as the pressure around my chest weakened.
“For fuck’s sake,” shouted the raspy voice again. “I lost my zapper. Hold her still!”
I spun around, swiping my legs along the floor like a breakdancer, and hit one of the attackers’ legs with my shin. I cried out. The pain was excruciating, but I couldn’t stop. I tried to get to my feet. A sort of crawling on all fours was all I could manage, however, and I had no idea where to go.
The rope that seconds before had been around my chest burned and coiled like a red and orange snake drawn from the floor to the outline of a man on his knees. Another man stood next to him, hunched over and shaking his hands—hands he had used to hold my neck when I pushed flames from my skin.
I scrambled to my feet and stumbled into the screening room, hoping the darkness could play to my advantage. Once I found my footing, I was able to move faster, limping down to the fourth or fifth row of seats. I threw myself in between them and dropped back on all fours.
The door swung open, crashing into the wall. Beams from two flashlights swerved from side to side. There was no way they wouldn’t find me. I was a rabbit, stuck in a corner, and the foxes were coming.
I pulled my phone from my pocket, easing it up to my face. Shielding the screen with my hands, I tried to call Jen.
No signal!
I remembered the Facebook update from Tom last week, where he bragged about how he’d installed a mobile phone jammer in the cinema. Focus on the big screen, not the little ones, was his mantra. A mantra that might very well turn out to be my demise.
Pocketing my phone, I started to wiggle backwards. If I could only get to the door.
I yelped as my body cramped up; a paralyzing pain burned through me. Staring into the darkness, my body jolted between vigorous tremors and a numbing stiffness, blue sparks flashing before my eyes. After what felt like an eternity, the convulsions stopped.
“A feisty one, this one, eh, Ulfius?”
I tried to locate the direction the voice came from.
“I’ll say,” replied the other one.
Their voices were strange and metallic, near and far at the same time. Like the audio from a black and white film in the forties.
Something locked around my neck. I tried to scream, to push at my magic. Nothing worked. The thing on my neck buzzed, sending a low, sizzling stream of electric current through my body.
“What about the bloke out there?” Ulfius asked.
“Bag ’im.”
“Leave off, Lionel! He ain’t never seen us.”
“Shut up, Ulfius. Bag ’im, all right?”
“Fine,” Ulfius said. “Look, she’s still awake.”
“Not for long,” Lionel said.
Blue sparks flashed before my eyes, and then Lionel’s words came true.
Fourteen
Silence.
Darkness.
Darkness and silence.
My body jerked awake, my senses straining for control. A strong smell of chemicals crept into my nostrils, and I wrinkled my nose. My face hurt. I became vaguely aware that the rest of me hurt just as bad. But from what?
An attempt at shifting my weight ended in more pain, a wave of shock coursing through me, my limbs constrained by … something. My mind slurred like the worst hangover as I tried to grasp a strand of coherent thought. A sudden movement sent me bouncing where I sat, my back screaming in agony. My eyes resisted violently to my attempt at opening them.
Sounds. My ears buzzed at first before the humming noise of an engine grew increasingly louder. My head hurt, too. Where in the darkest parts of Avalon was I?
“Ruby,” someone whispered a million miles away.
I tried shaking my head, gasping as a shock of electricity closed around my neck.
“Ruby,” the voice repeated, closer now. “Stay still or you’ll hurt yourself more.”
I opened and shut my mouth, unable to get words out.
Focus, Ru. You can do this. Focus.
Releasing all thoughts of pain and the weight of cold fear, I channelled my strength into opening my eyes. Slowly at first. Blinking. A haziness clouded my sight, and I blinked some more.
“There you are, Ruby.”
“N-Nick?” I wheezed.
The room rattled, my eyes gradually adjusting to the dim light. Nick sat on a pulldown seat opposite me. His arms were behind his back, his feet bound.
“Who the hell were those guys?” he asked.
Guys? Oh, crap. Those guys! The fear ensnared me as everything came rushing back. No! Hell no! This was not happening. I stared at Nick. Even in the darkness of—what was this, a van? It had to be. Even in the darkness of the van, a bruise was clearly blossoming on his cheek. His usual cheerfulness was wiped from his features, and we were trapped.
This was happening.
“I don’t know,” I muttered.
He glared at me then. “I think maybe you do.”
“Why, what makes you say that?” My voice was still hoarse, though it came out clearer this time.
“I don’t know. Maybe because you’re the one in chains and a freaking Fort Knox collar around your neck, whereas whoever they are decided rope was good enough for me.”
I grimaced. What was I going to tell him, other than the truth? We had been taken by Harvesters—no doubt in my mind—and one way or the other, he would realise what I was. If he hadn’t already.
“Those guys,” I stammered. “They’re Harvesters. And they’ve been after me for a while, I think.”
His eyes widened as he came to the conclusion on his own. It was one thing to think about what this said about me, however, and an entirely different thing to hear it directly from the Fae’s mouth. I was going to have to tell it to him straight.
“As you may have already figured out, yes, I’m one of those, how did you say it?”
“Bloody freaks,” he offered reluctantly.
“Yep, I’m one of those.”
We sat there, staring at each other for a while. Eventually, Nick’s gaze fell. “That was a mean thing to say. I know that. Jen has given me shit about it for weeks, and she’s right. I’ve got a big mouth. I’m really sorry.” He sucked on his lip for a moment. “But you have to admit, weird shit happens when Mags are involved. It’s a ton of scary.”
I could kind of understand where he was coming from. “All right, then. Any idea how to get out of here?”
“Me? You’re the one with magic.” He frowned. “You do have magic?”
I sighed, my head spinning again. “I’m also chained up and served jolts of electricity whenever I move too much.” This was not good. Not at all.
“Any idea who these Harvesters are? Where they’re taking us?” he asked.
“No, I—” My mouth closed over the words. What did I know? I knew a few things. What had Charlie said in her text? Something about a secret group, Sentries of Camelot. “I think they’re coppers. Of the corrupt kind.”
“Bobbies? No way!”
I nodded, my body shaking involuntarily as the van made a turn, and I winced at the sudden shock of electricity shooting down my spine. The sound of wheels on gravel was unmistakable as the van slowed its pa
ce. We had to get out.
I reached for fire. A sense of warmth settled in my gut like a small internal hearth. But nothing happened. Too tired, restrained and weak as I was, I couldn’t reach the fire, couldn’t summon it forth or catch my grip on it. I would have shaken my head, but I was afraid of what another jolt would do to me at this point, and I didn’t want to pass out again.
Well, Ruby Ru, you’re sure hip-deep in it now, I thought to myself.
“Well?” Nick asked.
“Nothing. My magic won’t react. I’m spent.”
I had always felt powerful. Even as a little girl, throwing my force fields around the garden, catching small butterflies only to release them again in a bed of flowers. It had always been easy, a part of who I was. Who I am. Since adding a few powers to my list of abilities, I had to admit—if only to myself—that I was enjoying the surges of power, the sense of almost being indestructible.
I bit down on my lip. Humans taking MagX had never made sense to me before. But maybe this was what it was like? Right now, I felt utterly powerless—human. I would have sold my soul for a bit of magic in that instant. The kind of power people died for.
Nick shook his head at me, and I could see my own fear reflected in his eyes. We were both aware of the obvious. We were utterly and royally screwed.
The van rocked as the driver hit the brakes. I tensed, expecting another shock, and exhaled carefully as none came.
“What the fuck took you so long?” a voice boomed outside.
“Bloody engine again. I told you we should get a new van.”
“It’s gone four in the morning,” the first man said. “Right, let’s get her out of there.”
A spear of light shot into the van as the doors opened.
“Welcome to the Farm,” a deep voice said.
A large man peered at me before his grey eyes settled on Nick. “Damn it, Ulfius. Who’s the boy?”
A gangly man climbed inside. His hands were too big for his body, and he had the kind of face that could be mistaken for a thousand other faces, the kind you would never look twice at in passing. In this instance, however, I looked hard. Any detail might be significant, and I wanted to remember everything in case we did manage to wiggle ourselves out of this mess.
