by Lea Ryan
Chapter 13
I woke up on a hard cot. The left side of my face throbbed angrily, sending waves of agony throughout my head. When I pulled away from the sheet, I saw it was stained with my blood. I did a quick assessment to check for additional injuries and found a couple more bruises. I still wore my wet clothes.
My captors had crammed me into an eight-by-eight room with no furniture other than the cot. I heaved my aching body up and over to the metal door. They had locked it. I attempted to peer through the window to determine what part of the compound I might be in, but they had covered the glass so thoroughly, I couldn't see anything.
I had a good guess as to where I was. It was 'sacred ground' where only the blessed are permitted. Funny, I didn't feel very blessed.
Four white walls reached to a high ceiling, not quite vaulted, but still too high for me to reach, even if I stood on the cot. A vent taunted from above, not that I could've squeezed through it.
Were they holding Michael in a room like this? Enlightenment, my ass. I beat on three of the walls, calling his name and putting my ear against the paint to listen for a reply. All I heard was the ventilation system.
I checked my pockets for my phone with the hope that while Vic was enraptured by the beating he finally got to give me, he forgot to take it. No such luck. My pockets were empty. I didn't even have my wallet.
I resigned myself to waiting on the cot. Maybe I would get lucky, and an opportunity for escape would present itself. I don't know how much time went by, but I sat until I thought one more second of staring at the blank walls would shove me over the brink of sanity. I slept for a while.
The sound of a plate scooting in through the open door woke me. I recognized the slender hand as Bree's, and before I could get to my feet, she had vanished. I smacked the door in frustration.
“Bree, wait!” I shouted at the glass. “Can you get me out? Bree.”
I could have sworn I felt her warmth through the door for a few moments before she walked away. Had she known this imprisonment would be the result of alerting Vic and Llewyn to Celeste's presence?
Salisbury steak slathered in gravy. Macaroni and cheese. Green beans and a biscuit. The food on the plate told me the others were likely eating dinner. I wolfed down the food like it might be the last meal I ever saw. Then I wished I had savored it longer because once it was gone, all I had was the empty plate and the white walls.
White walls and ceiling and the eternal sound of rain. I wanted the river to swallow the compound, pour through the halls and soak every book in the library, including that twisted bible of theirs. What the hell was the point of chronicling their insanity if they were all going to fall under Llewyn’s knife in the end anyway? Might as well take out the whole compound. The river would be a hero. I laughed at the idea of Vic's corpse floating in the lobby completely filled with water. The return of the stabbing headache was my punishment for this morbid amusement.
Shadow flared at the edges of my periphery to wound the white with bruise-colored flickers. I was almost certain I had a concussion. I didn’t mind that idea too much. Perhaps a head injury would lessen the stress of my probable impending doom.
I hoped Vic hadn’t handled Michael with the same level of aggression. I was used to being treated like shit, but my brother had lived a lighter version of life. I probably should’ve cared more about what he put me through when we were kids. Maybe I should’ve been thrilled about the prospect of someone beating the crap out of him, but I wasn’t.
I was about to fall back to sleep again when the door burst open. Vic stormed over, picked me up by the front of my shirt and slammed me against the wall.
“I never liked you.”
“I thought we got along great, like best friends almost.”
He swung me around sideways and I hit the wall again, this time with my left shoulder. My spine cracked discontentedly.
“I liked you even less when you started talking to my sister.” He practically growled.
I knocked his hands away and backed up. A couple of his boys entered the room. They were almost as big as he was, friggin' meat-heads. This was it. I decided right then that I would go down swinging, no matter how much pain they caused me. I would do as much damage as I could.
Vic grinned malevolently, “You're about to get what you deserve.”
The three of them rushed me at once, grabbing my arms. I swung and received an uppercut that snapped my head back. Then Vic had my arms behind me, and I was against the white paint once more. If I made it out alive, I swore any place I lived would not have white walls.
He secured my hands behind my back with a zip tie, Center-style. My oppressors had many similarities. Vic and Gideon would've gotten along swimmingly.
The guardians hauled me through the door, taking turns throwing me into walls and tripping me. They laughed like a mob of high school bullies. I hit the floor, and a combat boot connected with my rib cage, sending the air from my lungs. I stayed down, curled into a ball, which caused them to tire of their game.
They picked me up - a leg in the hands of each underling guardian, Vic carrying my upper body by the zip tie around my wrists like the damn thing was a handle. They hauled me like luggage (kicking, shouting luggage) from the well-lit areas into a dark part of the compound. With the exception of my struggling, all was still. I realized where we were heading.
Candles flickered in the otherwise dark temple. The seats were empty. No one was there except Llewyn and two more guardians.
Since arriving at the compound, I had seen Llewyn in the same kind of outfit every day. Always the white dress and no shoes. That night in the temple, she wore a black cloak with the hood pulled up. Warm light from the flames around her cast a golden glint into her eyes. She told me once that she had pieces of both Maructe's soul and Ekash's soul in her. Maructe was the only presence I saw in her, then. She had become destruction.
They dropped me at her feet, on the steps leading up to the stage. Vic cut the tie on my wrists, slashing my skin with a razor sharp blade on his pocket knife. The six of them surrounded me.
Llewyn brought out the ceremonial dagger. The sleeves on the cloak fell back to reveal the tattoos on her arms. The lettering twitched like it was alive.
“I never wanted this for you, Hunter.” Tears wet her face, “I am a gatherer of souls, even reluctant ones, and regretfully, we don't always have the luxury of waiting for them to attain enlightenment. Your refusal to be loyal to your own people and your lack of faith have brought us to this.”
“The only thing that brought you to this was your need for power. You're a murderer.”
Her face contorted with rage, “Hold him.”
A guardian behind me grabbed the back of my hair to yank my head back, while two more spread my arms. Vic looked down on me, that malicious joy playing on his lips in a toothy grin. My death was going to brighten his whole week.
Llewyn raised the knife over her head, “May Maructe welcome you.”
The temple door burst apart in a cloud of smoke that rolled into the room. A concussive wave of air from the blast snuffed out the candles. I wasted no time. While Vic shouted orders at his men, I used the distraction to push my way out of their circle and run into the fog.
“Grab him.” Llewyn screeched.
I navigated my way toward the door in a blind of gray on darkness. My shoe caught the edges of benches in the center aisle, but I kept going. I wouldn't stop running until the knife and that woman's insanity were far behind.
I came to the barrel of a pistol. A face emerged behind it - Celeste.
“Hunter!” She grinned, then looked past me and fired a shot.
The bullet tore through the cloud, striking nothing but repelling whoever was behind me just the same.
She took me by the hand, “Come on.”
A figure near the exit in front of us cried out in pain.
“Who's with you?”
“Gideon's men.” She turned, aim
ed into the fog and fired several shots in random directions around the temple. The sounds of suffering ceased. “Come on.”
Two enforcers in SWAT gear waited by the door. The ravagers in the room had weakened them, but not so much that they couldn't keep going. They sent more bullets into the temple to keep the guardians running.
Celeste and I dashed through the empty lobby, through the front door with the enforcers covering us. A Center truck waited on the driveway. We threw open doors to pile inside. Nigel was our wheel man.
A pair of guardians chased us outside as we started to pull away. The enforcer in the passenger seat and the one in the back with Celeste and me groaned as ravagers attacked from a distance. Nigel made no sound, but the truck veered sharply toward the trees lining the road. He slumped sideways onto the console. Moving with supernatural efficiency, Celeste unbuckled his seatbelt, hauled him into the back seat with one hand, corrected the steering wheel with the other hand, and leapt into the driver's seat to take over, practically ripping off her newly restored wings in the process. Feathers were everywhere.
Nigel had landed awkwardly, head down. I picked him up as we hit the highway. He was conscious, barely. His face had paled to a phantom gray. I slapped him a couple of times. He retched like he was going to vomit.
“Pull over!” I commanded Celeste.
“They'll die if the others catch up.”
I looked out the back window, “No one followed.”
“No.” Nigel shook off the nausea, “I'm fine. Just keep going.”
The enforcer seated in the back nodded in agreement, then rested his head on the window and closed his eyes. The guy in the front seat waved to signal he was okay.
“Thank you. All of you. I was about five seconds away from joining Maructe in the cosmos.” I watched out the back window to make sure no headlights appeared.
“What the hell does that mean?” The enforcer in the front asked.
“It means she was going to kill him.” Celeste replied. “I had a vision after we left you on the boardwalk earlier. They locked you in a room and then killed you in the temple, in the dark.”
“Divine intervention?” I asked.
She nodded.
“About time somebody up there threw us a bone. How did you get Gideon to let you use the men and the truck?”
Nigel answered, “I convinced him you were an asset. You're the only ravager on our side.” He cleaned his glasses on his shirt, then cast a wary glance out the back window. “That was extremely unpleasant. I hope you were worth the trouble.”
We took a longer way back to the law office of Lemon and Wallitz just to make sure that no one would creep up on us. When we determined it was safe, we parked in the alley behind the house. The lighting inside was warm and inviting, despite the house having been repurposed as a base of operations for our battle with the cult. I hoped there was a bed inside.
Gideon was eating soup in the kitchen/file room when we walked in the back door. The enforcers went on through to make themselves comfortable.
“How'd the date go, kids? Did we have a fun time?” He asked.
“Thanks for the rescue. Is there somewhere I can sleep?”
“Pick a couch. We have several. What's up with your face?”
Celeste came around to look at me. She put her hand on my face and pushed her thumb onto the angriest bruise of all, the swollen one on my temple.
“Ow. What the hell are you doing?” I pulled back.
“I want to help. What should I do?”
“You're awfully maternal for someone who's being punished for not liking humans. I'll get some ice. Just relax.”
“Come up to the second floor when you're settled.” Gideon toted his soup with him.
I heard her voice as I climbed the stairs, and every muscle in my body tensed. Llewyn sobbed hysterically, mixing in moans and occasional fragments of the other language. A vision passed through my mind - her on her knees before the statues of Maructe and Ekash, begging for forgiveness for her failure. The sound was coming from the computer speakers.
Teag turned as we walked into the loft, “This is one messed up chick, for real. What is that language - Klingon or something?”
“It's the language of the Sidera. Can we turn that down? I think I've heard enough of her for today.”
“Sure thing. We're recording, anyway.”
I asked Gideon, “Your guys planted a bug?”
“Or three.”
“Nice move.”
“I know. Celeste and the guys managed to kill a guardian and wound another. The guardians got the plate number of the truck, but it won't do them any good. Our tags are registered through some obscure government agency.” He paused and then added, “They're stepping up the sacrifices. Llewyn knows she's running out of time. They're doing several tomorrow, including your brother.”
“He was already scheduled to die. I'm sure he'll be first up.”
“We need to move before this thing gets any more out of control. Once she has fewer followers to worry about, she'll be in the wind until she shows up at the Center to get to the rest of the anomalies she needs. We have to stop this here, while she's still anchored in some kind of way.”
“I agree.”
“Are we going to have any trouble?” Gideon asked me.
Everyone in the room stared at me. He was asking about my loyalty.
“No trouble. I just...I would like to minimize casualties, if possible.”
Nigel said, “That's not our first priority.”
“I know, but the majority of them are harmless.”
“We won't know who's a ravager and who isn't just by looking at them. These people aren't your friends.”
“Ok.” My goals were going to differ from theirs. Our debate on the worth of anomaly lives wouldn't be resolved. I needed his help, so I wouldn't argue. I was too tired, anyway. “Is there anything else to eat in the kitchen?”
Gideon nodded, “Eat and then get some sleep on a couch downstairs. We'll form a plan when Owen gets here.”
“Owen?”
“Badass commander from the Center. Ex-cop. He's taken an interest. Be thankful.”
In the kitchen, I rinsed my face in the sink. Blood swirled down the drain. I stuck my arm under it to clean the cut Vic's knife left. My muscles ached like I'd pulled every last one of them. I was starting to miss my days of isolation in the apartment. That life sucked, true enough, but at least my face was intact.
Celeste appeared in my peripheral, “Are you alright?”
“I'll live.”
“That's not what I meant.”
I shut off the water and turned to the refrigerator, “I don't want Bree to die. Or Michael or Max or Greg.”
“Who are Max and Greg?”
“No one. If Gideon goes in the way he wants, the innocent won't live. They aren't fighters. Most of them aren't.”
“He'll take them captive, I'm sure.”
I pulled out a jug of V8 to gulp it straight from the bottle. The cabinet held some instant noodles. I ripped open the package with my teeth to dump them into a bowl.
“They don't deserve imprisonment, either.”
“What would you suggest for them? Especially the ravagers? They're dangerous, even more so as a group.”
“I don't know.”
She stepped closer to say into my ear, “Gideon isn't going to release you. In his eyes, ally or not, you're too unpredictable to roam free.”
“What about you? How are you supposed to deal with me after all this is over?”
“I have no order beyond rescuing your brother. I'm supposed to find my own path.”
“So you have a decision to make. Will you trust me to go on my merry way without causing any trouble?”
“I would trust you with my life.” was all she said.
She left through the back door, descended the steps to the yard. I watched through the window as she unfolded her wings and leapt into the air. She was an amazing creature. I hoped when
we came to the end of our time together, she wouldn’t feel I was a threat to humanity. I didn’t want to think she might turn on me.
I found a leather couch in what probably used to be a formal sitting room when the house was a residence. Lemon and Wallitz had converted the space into a waiting room with a couple of sofas, some chairs and magazines. The curtains in the front window were open to a view of our patch of the neighborhood.
Families in the houses along the street, they had no idea what was happening so close to them. Should Llewyn succeed, their lives would be in jeopardy. I had spent my life fearing the effect my affliction would have on others. She would unleash the embodiment of that threat on the general populace. We had to stop her, no matter what happened to me or anyone else.
