As they ate, Stephen asked Zander more about his experience as an Outcast. There hadn’t been much to tell. Zander said that mostly he tried to be there as a support for other Outcasts and stay off Enclave’s radar. Zander also asked Stephen about growing up with Waltz. He had known Waltz when they were both younger and never figured him to be the fatherly type, stating that the Waltz he knew wasn’t very patient.
Stephen glanced around the restaurant occasionally and watched people come and go as the discussion about one another’s experiences continued. It wasn’t until they had nearly finished eating in the pizzeria, however, that the discussion turned back to the mission at hand.
“Any suggestions?” Zander asked. “I’ve been leading, and we’ve got nothing.”
Stephen said nothing. His mind was somewhere else, listening to the thoughts of others, mostly tourists who were amazed at the sites and history.
“Stephen,” Zander repeated. “I was sure our sources said we would find a Fallen in Westminster. Perhaps we should try across the river again?”
Stephen shook his head. “Piccadilly,” he said.
“What?”
“Fallen is here, in Piccadilly.”
Zander sat silent, scrunching his brows together.
Stephen placed a wad of cash on the table to pay for their meals. “She followed us from Westminster,” Stephen said.
No sooner had he gotten the words out, a tall, brunette woman sitting a couple tables over got up and hurried out the door.
Zander watched the woman, who nearly caused a scene getting past a couple who were entering through the front door. He looked at Stephen, then back to the door. “Should we—”
Stephen stood before Zander finished. “We should,” he replied.
The two men exited the corner restaurant and immediately turned the corner. Their target had already blended into the crowd, making it hard to put eyes on her. Stephen, however, didn’t care. He had locked onto her thoughts and was quick stepping in her direction, certain they were gaining on her.
“How long have you known?” Zander asked.
“Since she passed us at Big Ben.”
“That wasn’t her. That lady was short.”
Stephen shook his head. “That lady was Angelique—a mimic. She can change her body, but she can’t change the sound of her mind. She and I have unfinished business.”
They rounded another corner. There were no people except for the tall brunette running down the alley. The men gave chase as she ducked into a building at the end.
Stephen listened for thoughts as they entered the building and ran up the stairs. There were others around, all normal.
“She’s alone,” Stephen informed Zander. “Still, be careful.”
Stephen’s cell phone rang. He fumbled through his pockets until he was finally able to silence it after the fourth ring.
Zander shook his head, grinning. “Sometimes I forget you’re new at this.”
“Shut up,” Stephen replied, somewhat annoyed as he continued upward. He could hear Angelique’s footsteps go up the staircase, then a large heavy door close. Silence.
“She’s on the roof,” Stephen said.
The two men sprinted up the last flight of stairs and out onto the roof through the metal door. Stephen expected to find Angelique trying to climb down the fire escape and ran straight for it. Zander followed. As they reached the edge, a loud thud sounded from the metal door. Heat flooded Stephen’s face. He had just been duped.
Zander made for the door, reaching it before realizing Stephen wasn’t following. “You coming?”
Stephen looked over the edge. “You go ahead. I have an idea.”
“She’ll likely come out on the other side of the building,” Zander said.
“I’ll be there. Go on without me.”
Zander nodded and took off.
Stephen raced across the top of the building to where the front emptied onto the street. There were a number of people on the main thoroughfare. He looked up and down the street. How do I keep from being seen?
He spotted a pickpocket on the other side of the street. Stephen couldn’t resist. He reached into the man’s mind and caused him to trip, sending the looted items flying down the sidewalk.
People who witnessed it and understood what the man had done began shouting at him as he attempted to deny it before trying to run. A few men gave chase and even more shouted. Before long, a bobby had joined the chase, and all eyes followed them down the street.
That was when it happened. The front doors to the building burst open and Angelique stopped, appearing confused at the commotion. This gave Stephen the moment he needed.
Without delay, he jumped from the ledge to where he hoped Angelique would be when he hit the ground—in front of the bottom step. He was right, and Angelique never saw him coming.
She lay on the ground. Out cold.
****
The two men returned to Outpost triumphant, flanking their captive, her hands bound with strong wire ties behind her back. Her feet dragged on the ground, and her head hung limp. Still unconscious. The mist hadn’t cleared before Stephen realized something was wrong. There was a sadness in the air—not from just one, but from all. He dropped the woman there, leaving Zander to watch her.
“Patty, what’s wrong?” Stephen asked.
“I tried to call you,” she replied.
“I know.” He nodded toward Angelique. “We were chasing her.”
“Anthony got hurt. Fallen must have figured out that Johnathan is his son. Elizabeth was there waiting when Vincent and Anthony went to see him. She was trying to get to Vincent, but Anthony took the blow.”
Stephen sped off to the infirmary, no longer caring about Angelique or his hollow victory. It only took a moment for Stephen to arrive. Vincent and Johnathan stood on the sides of the bed. This was the first time he remembered seeing them resemble each other. They shared the same look of concern—the bloodshot eyes, clenched jaws, and sagging shoulders. The mood in the room was grim. There was a feeling present, a very specific feeling he had come to know too well. Death.
“Vincent,” Stephen said, not sure what to say next.
It was Johnathan who turned to face Stephen. “Vincent says you’ve helped others like me—Mighty born without abilities—to gain them.”
Stephen only nodded.
“I want you to try with me.” A tear rolled down Johnathan’s cheek. “I need you to try.”
“Okay,” Stephen said. “But if vengeance is what you’re wanting—”
“It was my fault!” Johnathan cried, tears falling more rapidly. “I wasn’t able to protect myself. If I could have at least gotten away, he’d still be here.” He stepped toward Stephen, buried his head into his friend’s chest, and threw his arms around him.
Stephen hugged him back, moved with compassion. He’d been there. He’d felt helpless too. “Okay.”
Johnathan’s mind was cluttered with so much guilt. Stephen had never understood just how useless and inept Johnathan felt around Mighty. For the first time, he realized how much trusting Johnathan from the beginning had meant. Guilt, however, wasn’t what held Johnathan back. No. It was something else.
Stephen slipped deeper into Johnathan’s mind. Images of Johnathan with his mother. She was beautiful, with long brown hair and blue eyes. Her face lit up when Johnathan hugged her. She doted on him, her only son. That was when Stephen realized something was wrong. The more affection she showed him, the more he withdrew. What was it?
Deeper still, he saw Johnathan as a preteen, completely happy and vibrant. Anthony was telling him about Vincent and Elizabeth. Something changed in the boy. He began to question in his mind, Why me? Why do I get to be happy and not Vincent?
Stephen had found it. That moment that held the young Johnathan back. The stumbling block to being who he truly was meant to be came from feeling unworthy of the life he had, when his brother had something much different.
“Johnathan,” Stephen
said after backing out of the man’s thoughts, feelings, and memories. “I can’t fix this with my abilities.”
“Why?” Johnathan begged. “Please.”
“The stumbling block for you is something that shouldn’t be changed. You feel unworthy.”
Johnathan dropped his head and sobbed as he backed away from Stephen, only to bump into Vincent.
“Unworthy?” Vincent asked, staring at his brother. “How so?”
“His childhood had everything,” Stephen answered, “while yours . . .”
Vincent held a hand up. He understood. Vincent turned his younger brother to face him. “Brother, we are all unworthy of the Almighty’s blessings. That is what propels us forward, knowing that our worth does not reside in our own accomplishments. It is not in our hands, but His. He defines our worth. And while we are unworthy, our worth is found in the Son. Therefore, all of us are of equal value, which transcends any price we could imagine.”
After a moment, Johnathan wiped away a few remaining tears and raised his head. “Priceless, huh? You and I are the same.”
“God put us on different paths to bring us to the same place and time so that we each could become who we are meant to be.”
Johnathan beamed. He held his head higher than Stephen had ever noticed, he pulled his shoulders back. He looked at his father, who lay in the bed. “You knew, didn’t you? Even then, you knew that part of me was missing. That’s what you tried to give me, my brother.”
A twinkle began to shine from Johnathan’s upper body, as though his very core was turning into a flame, brighter and brighter. Then, a great flash filled the room. Johnathan was gone.
Rex rushed into the room. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“We’re fine,” Stephen said.
“I was concerned Fallen was back. That’s how they got in. They blew a hole in a wall.”
“Can we fix it?” Stephen asked
“Yeah. The wall is fixed. And Colvin is working on something to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Rex looked around, then stopped at Vincent. “Where’s your brother?”
Stephen acted as though he hadn’t heard him. Now that Johnathan’s issue was resolved, something nagged at him. That feeling—death. He had felt it so many times before, more than he first realized. He knew something had to be done about it.
“Anthony,” Stephen said, walking over to the body and taking its hands into his own. “Wake up!”
Chapter 21
Colvin turned around to face Stephen. He had walked through all of Outpost, reading from a Scroll of Blessing. Stephen didn’t fully understand what his former teacher was doing. Thankfully, trust doesn’t require one to understand.
Colvin had explained that this particular blessing was what allowed Enclave to only be accessible to those holding a Mighty medallion. When Stephen had asked why Fallen couldn’t get in, the elder had explained that when a Mighty fell, the medallion changed—split—so the gem resembled a snake’s eye, and the tip of the sword forked like a serpent tongue. Stephen looked at his own medallion and noted that the shield was shaped similar to a viper’s head.
“Well, that’ll do it,” Colvin said.
Stephen looked around. Nothing appeared different. “Are you sure?”
“Fairly,” Colvin teased with a half grin as he rolled the scroll back up.
“How do we know?”
“Well, I suppose you could wait until Fallen attacks again.”
“Haha,” Stephen said.
“We can test it,” Colvin said, picking up a case containing the scroll.
Stephen followed him through Outpost, into the operations center and to the staircase. When they neared the top, Colvin lifted his medallion from his neck and handed it to Stephen. Then he pushed on the door. It didn’t budge.
“Let me try.” Stephen handed the medallion back to Colvin, along with his own. Pushing with everything he had didn’t open the door. He took his medallion back from Colvin. His hand barely applied pressure and the door released, allowing light from the office room to filter inside. He opened the door all the way, feeling satisfied.
“Bombs?” he asked.
“Won’t faze it,” Colvin replied. “The entire building could be torn down, and all that makes up Outpost will remain unscathed as long as at least one Mighty remains present inside the building.”
That’s how it works? Stephen closed the door. “The blessing is fueled by the power of Mighty?”
“Almost,” Colvin answered. “It feeds off the power of the Almighty that flows through Mighty.”
“That’s why it’s indestructible, the power of God.”
Colvin nodded and walked back down the stairs.
Stephen followed him into the operations center.
“Stephen,” Shannon said. “We may have a problem.”
“What now?” Stephen wondered aloud.
“There are some Outcasts missing,” she replied.
“What do you mean?” Colvin asked.
“Well, we have a couple teams that should have checked in by now. Outcasts don’t always check in as often as we’re used to, so it’s taken us longer to notice. Plus, adding more Outcasts to our numbers each day makes it harder to notice. But I’m certain something’s wrong.”
“It’s like Enclave,” Colvin said. “Enclave is weak enough now that Fallen is targeting Outpost members. That’s good and bad.”
“How so,” Shannon asked.
Stephen replied. “Gregor’s afraid of us. But we don’t have the numbers to fight, especially with Mighty being divided between Enclave and Outpost. Colvin, talk to Alistair. See if he’s willing to join forces now.”
“I’ll try,” Colvin said, dipping his head as he vanished into the blue mist.
****
Stephen waited in an abandoned school gymnasium. All the Outcast leaders were with him, as were numerous others. He had never seen their numbers this great. Even more, many others waited around the world for the return of their respective captains, with orders to move out. Now, they waited on a trio to return from the steel mill, where Gregor waited.
Angelique had caved, telling them where Gregor’s main army of Fallen loomed, waiting for the eclipse to signal the beginning of the reign of Fallen. She had told them that it wouldn’t matter that they knew. Gregor was ready and confident that neither Mighty, nor Outcasts, could prevent his victory.
Stephen passed the information to Colvin, in hopes that Alistair would accept it as a sign of his friend’s good intentions. Alistair, instead, replied with a warning for all Outcasts to stay clear. “Charles’s influence,” Stephen had said.
On the stage, several Knights of the Circle surrounded Stephen. These knights—Anthony, Zander, Vincent, Shannon, Edge, Bernard, Jax, Boone, Rex, Max, and Johnathan—were the only ones who knew who Stephen truly was. The order had many more knights, all of whom would be protecting Alistair when Enclave’s forces arrived. And Stephen was glad for it.
One of the trio, a young man named Will, came through the side door and trotted up the stairs onto the stage. Will was a warrior blessed with speed like no other Stephen had met, but did not have strength like most.
Will looked unsure of himself, glancing around at all the more seasoned and better trained men and women around him. He had been raised as an Outcast, never even having seen Enclave. He hurried across the stage. His tactical gear hung loose and wasn’t strapped on properly, causing it to bounce and clink as he went.
“Sir,” the boy squeaked. “Enclave is here.”
“How many Fallen?” Anthony asked.
“We’re not sure. A lot. More than a thousand. Maybe more than two thousand.”
“And Enclave?” Stephen asked. “How many came?”
“Maybe a thousand,” Will replied.
Stephen looked around the gym. There were at least five hundred here. The odds wouldn’t be as bad as he anticipated. He finally felt things were turning in their favor.
The door opened again. The othe
r two scouts, a man and woman, came running in.
“Stephen,” the head scout called out, jumping onto the stage in a frenzy. He struggled to catch his breath.
“Slow down, James,” Zander said. “Take a deep breath and give us the news. What’s wrong?”
The man did just that, trying to stand straight. “Mighty from Enclave are here, a thousand strong, give or take. As soon as they made themselves known to Fallen, a red mist rolled in. We waited for it to dissipate, but it continued to linger and spread, like a fog. When it did finally clear, I couldn’t see a spot that wasn’t covered with them. They cover the ground like locusts in the Egyptian plague. They’re waiting for Mighty to make a move, taunting them—daring them.”
“Best guess, James,” Zander demanded.
“More than ten thousand,” James said. He looked to Stephen, his eyes doubtful.
They all looked to Stephen.
He gazed over the crowd and took up a sword. It wasn’t Escalibor. He gripped it tight, wishing he would feel something—anything. Nothing. They had to fight, regardless. Word was spreading through all those here. In the bleachers, some had been playing games—card games and board games, but mostly games on their phones and tablets. Other more seasoned veterans had gathered on the floor to tell war stories and share experiences. Not now. Little by little, each head turned toward the stage, and all eyes stared at him. Waiting. Anticipating.
Stephen opened his mouth to speak. The side door opened again. What now? Fifty men in cloaks walked in. Stephen recognized the cloak. He had one in his trove. It was what Enclave wore to battle as tradition. Two men stepped onto the stage and made their way to Stephen. The others joined the men on the floor and faced the stage, dropping their hoods.
The taller of the two men lowered his hood. Though his face was solemn, Stephen was glad to see him.
“Danny!” Stephen hugged him. “Good to see you.”
The others looked on, exchanging glances and whispering among themselves.
Stephen held Danny at arm’s length. “Do none of them know who you are?”
Danny grinned. “Only you and those who came with me.”
“Everyone knows of you, though,” Stephen said. “Right?”
Chronicles of Stephen BoxSet Page 73
