Chapter 14

 

CHAPTER 14



“What’s wrong?” Lucas asks.

“There’s someone here - someone else. And not just one.”

Something flickers behind his eyes.

“There are people here, Lucas. I’m sure of it. I can feel their auras. They’re terrified.”

Lucas wipes a hand across his mouth and looks over my head, out into the brightening room. He is less surprised than I would have hoped.

“You know about this?” I say it too loudly and jump, looking to see if anyone comes running.

Lucas steps closer and lays his fingertips on my lips.

“Yes,” he says. “I mean, I wasn’t sure, but it isn’t unheard of.”

“What are you talking about? Who are they?”

“Resources,” he answers. “The Rippers hold them in store for use later, as drones. They’ll convert them in time.”

“Convert them? You mean slit their throats?”

He shakes his head. “Not at first. What you saw was gathering blood for magic spells. Drones have their essence drawn from them by having a very precise amount of blood withdrawn. It isn’t enough to kill them. Instead, it renders them what you’ve seen: creatures without a will of their own. Perfect servants.”

“Perfect killers, you mean. And what was that - ‘Not at first’? Will they kill them eventually? Where did they even come from?”

“As I explained before, they often begin their association with drones and Rippers unwillingly. Some are promised power, as you were, others just pleasure that will enhance their otherwise bleak lives. The reality, however, is not what they’d hoped.”

“How many are there, do you think?” My voice is high, panicked. Humans are being held waiting to be stripped of their will, their blood, their lives.

“I don’t know. This is a big city and this building, a large facility. I’ve no doubt that there are...many. At least a dozen if I were to venture a guess.” Lucas lays hand on my shoulder and peers down into my eyes. “But this, Tristan, is not your concern.”

“Not my - what? Are you crazy? Of course it’s my concern. What happened to the balance of good and evil? How am I not perpetuating evil if I blow them off?”

Lucas glares at me. “How will you perpetuate good if you are dead? Worry about what you’re here to do, Tristan. Once the Rippers are gone, you will be free to release them.”

“Free to release them?”

Oh hell no. The last thing I need is to start getting pushed around by my Watcher. This is my show and we’re going to do what I think is right.

Lucas can feel my resistance across our bond.

“You’re not going to listen to me, are you?” He sounds tired, the weight of his many years pressing down on him.

“I promise we will tend to what we came here to do...eventually.”

He sighs. “Naturally.”

It seems too easy. “You’re not going to fight me on this?”

“What would be the point? You’d simply run off or stab me again.”

“You’re just never going to let that go, are you?”

“What is the plan? Or should I formulate that in accordance with your new wishes?”

I suppose if this is my idea, then I should be responsible for figuring out what to do.

“I’m pretty sure I know where they are.”

“I’ve no doubt you do.” I get the impression it’s taking every ounce of Lucas’ self-control not to roll his eyes at me.

When I first realized that there were humans in here - real humans - I sensed them through my feet. These people are below us somewhere.

“Do you think there’s a basement in here?”

“Most likely. I assume it’s where they keep all the operational equipment - heating, plumbing. I’m sure it’s delightful.” He crosses his arms and leans back against the wall.

“Are you giving me sass?”

“I’m not familiar with that expression.”

“Talking back. Being intentionally difficult.”

“Like you, in other words?”

Incredible. This person who lives by a strict code of conduct is resisting me. I can’t catch a break.

“Clearly kissing you was a mistake,” I scowl at him. “We are going to the basement, Watcher. We are going to free these people. So get those weapons of yours ready and follow me. And stop sighing at me,” I order when he does.

Disgruntled, maybe even a little angry, Lucas does what he’s told, following me as I blindly make my way across the wide open space. The sun shines in brightly, lighting up the surfaces. Other than a few suspicious stains on the concrete floor and the pile of bodies Lucas left behind, there is nothing much to see. Including stairs. I need to find stairs.

“There’s a freight elevator over there,” Lucas points, “I assume the stairs are nearby.”

The annoyance runs strong but at least he’s not refusing to participate. He could have let me search for the stairs for the rest of the morning. Sure enough, a few steps away from the elevator I find a black metal door with a graphic of stairs on it. I reach for the handle and Lucas clamps a hand down over mine.

“How about I go down first and make sure there isn’t anyone waiting in the stairwell? You know, do my job, since we’re going to do as you wish.”

I tug my hand out from under his. “Definitely sorry about that kiss. Lead away, Watcher.”

Lucas opens the door noiselessly, just a crack and peers inside.

“Do you sense anything, Seeker?”

“Other than a hive of drones, assorted Rippers, and the auras of humans, we’re all clear.”

“Then let us go.”

What I don’t count on is absolute pitch blackness of the stairs. I don’t know why, of all the things that are going on in here, this is freaking me out, but so it is. I dig in my pocket and pull out my phone.

“What don’t you just shout out your name?” Lucas asks. I slam into his back. “And please make sure your ringer is off. I’d rather we don’t get discovered because you receive a text.”

“I figure falling down the stairs will be sort of a giveaway.”

Lucas grunts. “Put your hands on my shoulders. I will lead the way and if you do trip, I will catch you.”

I do as he says and we continue down. It’s so dark, I close my eyes. When I do, fully formed images of what surrounds us fill my mind. A large room with long tables and chairs. It is a cafeteria. Drones and semi-drones sit eating, barely acknowledging one another, barely alive. There are a lot of them. A lot. I think of Lucas and his weapons. He’s skilled, no doubt, and fast and strong. But how much could any person really manage against so many others?

We pass the door to the first floor and continue down, deeper and deeper still.

Lucas eventually stops and I feel him turn, his breath warm against my face.

“What’s the matter?” I ask.

My hands slide down and rest against his chest. Under my palms, I feel his heart beating steadily, maybe a little quick, but not the pounding of someone who is terrified. Not like me.

“There’s no way for you to be prepared for what you may see in there, but don’t let it distract you, overwhelm you.You are more powerful than all of them - all of us.”

“Yeah. Well,” the speed of my pulse interferes with my words. Not a promising sign. “Take care of yourself, Watcher.”

I feel him turn and reach for the door.

This new area is well underground - no windows, no sun. Dim lights line a long hallway, rows of pipes covering the ceiling. Water drips somewhere in the distance.

“Which way?” Lucas mouths.

I lift my hand in front of me, pushing magic along my arms until my fingers glow. Turning slowly, I let them lead me, show me the way. The hall is lined with doors and up ahead, seems to turn to the left. The golden power arcs, jumping like a tiny lightning bolt, past all the doors. It disappears into the darkness ahead.

“Down the hall. We need to take the turn. I’m pretty sure it opens up out there.”

Lucas nods and begins walking. About three-quarters of the way down, I see him slip the blades out of his sleeves. I open my own jacket and feel for Gae Buidhe, strapped around my waist.

Light streams in from the end of the hall, the area to the side. Lucas strides forward, the blades tipped up along the inside of his wrists. Without hesitation, without fear, he heads in the direction I’ve indicated, taking the turn.

I’m only about five feet behind, but it’s far enough that I don’t see him move until he’s rushing forward. A mass of drones meet us. The number doesn’t matter. There are more than two and that is too many.

Lucas lashes out, blades flashing. A drone falls in a heap clutching his neck, but three more jump him. He slices one, but another drives a knife into his shoulder. He grunts but shrugs it off. They’re a tangle of bodies now with more coming.

I pull my own blade out from under my sweatshirt. A drone rushes me and I don’t even bother with the knife, sending a shaft of energy right through his chest. It passes out behind him, exploding against a wall and the drone drops, dead.

Lucas is wrestling with the two drones, blood running down his arm. He climbs on top of one and stabs him in the chest, pulling the blade out as fast as it went in and rolling to his feet. He faces off against the remaining drone. I knock two more out of my way and sense that Lucas is in trouble.

He kicks one drone back and stands over him, ready to strike, but another one comes up from behind, angling his blade toward his throat. I rush forward and grab a fistful of the drone’s hair, dragging Gae Buidhe across his throat. He crumples to the ground.

I’ve killed someone. I’ve killed two people. The realization begins to hit me, building up in my stomach. I’m going to be sick. I’m going to scream. I’m going to run.

Lucas shakes me with his good arm.

“It’s alright,” he says. “It’s alright. You did well.”

I blink at him and push down the rushing emotions that threaten to overwhelm me. Blood soaks through his shirt.

“Your shoulder…” I reach up to touch it and he winces.

“Don’t worry about that,” he says. “We need to get out of here. Move forward. This,” he gestures at the floor, “isn’t going to go unnoticed.”

I frown. “And you can’t fight like that. Give me a minute.”

Laying both hands on Lucas’ shoulder, I try to recall the words of the healing spell. I recite them carefully, without letting the fear make me rush and screw up. I finish with the symbols etched on top of his bloody shirt.

Lucas sucks in a sharp breath and his face relaxes. He tests out his arm, moving it around.

“Are there any more of them nearby?” he asks.

I feel it out. Nothing but humans.

“Nope, but the people are here.”

“And we’re going to continue heading toward them?”

“What else?. I can’t just leave them, Lucas. What if I don’t make it? Who will free them then? They’re just stupid. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve been stupid and wanted someone to bail me out.”

He nods because, while it may not be what he wants to do, he knows it’s what we have to do.

“We need to hurry then. Someone is sure to come looking for all of these drones and the odds are not in our favor. Which way?”

I squint into the darkness beyond this room. A pale rainbow, the edges of more intense auras, hovers below the dripping pipes.

“That way,” I point. “I can see their auras. They’re either far away, though, or behind some kind of protection because the colors are weak are there’s no way they aren’t totally freaked out.”

“Unless they’re drugged,” Lucas suggests. “Is that possible? Would it affect their auras?”

It’s a good observation and a revolting thought.

“It would.”

“Right.” Lucas wipes the blades across his pants, leaving dark streaks. “Let’s go.”

Something prickles at the back of my neck, the nagging thought that I should take a look at the two people I’ve just killed. Killed. I never thought that was something I would have to say. I make a move to turn my head and Lucas gently takes my chin in his hands, turning me back to face him.

“There’s no point. You did what you had to do to save yourself - and me. That’s the least of what’s going to happen in here, Tristan. Don’t let it get in your head.”

“But I can have a really good breakdown when we’re done, right? Like get totally wasted and cry and hide in my bed?”

“I would expect nothing less. Now go.”

We move through the room and down the connecting hallway without seeing anything worse than a couple of rats drinking out of a puddle, but the aura cloud grows stronger. The further we move, the deeper the colors of the cloud, the more I can actually feel what these people are experiencing. They are terrified, panicked, desperate. A few are starting to be resigned to their fate, making me wonder how long they’ve been here. Still others are just confused, wondering how this has happened, what exactly has happened, and when someone is going to come and rescue them.

Lucas walks beside me, blades in hand, his eyes never resting on anything for more than a few seconds.

“How far?” he asks, checking behind us.

I’m hit with a punch of dread that feels like it’s coming from right next to me.

“Their auras are getting stronger. I’d say just there,” I gesture to the wall in front of us. The bricks are slimy with bad plumbing and no light. A door is set into the center of the wall, metal with no window. We head toward it and stop. I lay my hand on the cold surface and let the magic flow through my fingertips, allowing me to get a read on the inside.

The picture that forms in my head is so disturbing that I can only hope that it’s my imagination going crazy from the fear and the darkness and the fact that I’ve never maintained this level of magic for so long before. I shake my head and push it away, focusing only on what we need to know.

“I don’t think there are any drones inside. I feel their leftover juice, but that’s it, just people.” I slap my hand against the door. “Do you need me to?” I wiggle my fingers.

“Once again. Drawing attention to ourselves,” Lucas steps up close to the lock, “not in our best interests.” There is a metallic clang and the door pops open.

“You have a great future as a criminal,” I observe.

On the other side of the door, the light is slightly better and I find myself wishing it were worse. The far wall is lined with barred cages like some old timey zoo. There are about ten separate sections, each one with a person inside.

Lucas curses softly and steps closer to the bars. Together we walk the length of the room. Each small cage, the size of our apartment bathroom, holds one person, a stripped mattress, and a bucket. There are a mix of males and females, all young. Some are dressed like they got picked up at a bar, others like they were sleeping in the street.

Pretty much everyone is curled up on the mattress in some drugged out state. Whatever I’ve been feeling is the result of reading their subconscious minds. Thank God they don’t really know what is going on.

One guy near the middle of the row of cells looks more awake than the others. He’s barefoot in ripped jeans and a t-shirt, shivering. His hair hangs down in a thick wave hiding his face. There is something familiar about this guy, his long, slender fingers, the curve of his shoulders. He looks up.

“Please.” His voice is hoarse like he hasn’t had anything to drink in the longest time. “Please help me,” he whispers again.

I swallow hard. My hands shake, energy pushing, forcing its way to the surface. Running forward, I grab the bars in both hands and shake. The guy inside squints at me as I wrestle with his prison. I step back and lift a hand because blasting through this thing is the only way we’re getting it open.

Lucas grabs my wrists, pinning my hands against his chest.

“No,” he whispers, stepping between me and the cage. “You do that and this place will be crawling with Rippers.”

“Please,” the guy says again. “Tristan. Lucas. Help me.”

“It’s Antonio,” I say, fighting against Lucas’ grip. He should probably let go before I hurt him.

“I know, I know.” He talks to me like he’s soothing an injured toddler. “But you won’t be able to help him if you’re dead. Now that we know where they are, we’ll do what we have to and come back.”

“And what if we don’t come back?” I growl. If we die, they die. If I let them out now, maybe they have a chance to get away.

“There’s no way out down here, Tristan. If we open these gates, you’ll have to lead a group of stumbling, drugged up teenagers through the building, looking for an exit that, right now, we can’t find. Besides,” he glances up at a corner of the room, “I’m certain they are already on their way.” A surveillance camera overlooks all the cells and, no doubt, us.

“So what then? We just leave them?”

“Nick,” Antonio sobs from behind the bars. He has crawled forward, working to pull himself to his feet.

Shit. Nick. I break away from Lucas with a jolt of energy and rush to the bars, dropping down to Antonio’s level.

“Where is he, Antonio? Where’s Nick?”

Fat tears hang begin to fall making tracks in the dirt on his face.

“I don’t know,” he sobs. “We were walking home from my place. A car pulled up next to us. A couple of guys jumped out and...and...that’s all I remember. I woke up here. Alone. Tristan,” he grabs at me through the bars, “you have to find him. Why isn’t he here with me? Where did they take him?”

I wish I knew.

Lucas heads back into the hall, rushing back a few seconds later. “They’re heading this way,” he says, “and the only way out is through them. We have to go,” he says. “We’ll come back. I swear.”

There is no other choice. It’s not like even I can smash a hole through the wall and lead everyone out. This deep underground there’s probably only dirt waiting for us. I’m going to have to go and leave them here. For now.

“I’m sorry, Antonio,” I say standing. He tries to take hold of my leg, but he’s too weak. I step back. “I swear I’ll be back. With Nick. It will be alright,” I lie. “But you need to lie down. Go to sleep,” I say it in a soothing voice, knowing where I’m headed. “That’s right,” I coax. “Let everything relax. Lie down. Go to sleep. Go to sleep.” I whisper the words of a sleeping spell Nana used on me when I was a kid. There is no way Antonio can resist. He crawls back to the mattress, shuts his eyes, and sleeps. It is the most merciful thing I can do.

“Are there a lot of them?” I ask Lucas. He waits in the hall, spinning a blade through the air.

“After what we did in there, I doubt they would send anything less than a lot. Are you ready?”

No, I’m not ready. Nick missing. Antonio prisoner. Nana at home in the grip of her own sleeping spell. Three people I care about are minutes from being decimated. I need to end this.

“I am. You have a plan?”

He nods. “I will go ahead. Slow them down, clear a path for you. If the drones were on the first floor and no one on the second, experience would tell me the Rippers are on the top floor, furthest away from entrances and with an army of drones to shield them. You’ll need to make your way up there. I’ll be with you if I can.”

“If you…” No time for questions.

Drones rush through the main room and head to the hall. I can feel them but I can hear them, too, dozens of feet closing the space between us. We rush through the hallway as quickly as possible, not wanting to get trapped in the confined space.

Once back in the large room, I hit the lamps with a bolt of power, lighting up the space like day. We need to see what we’re up against if there is going to be any hope of making it out of here in one piece.

The drones burst in at one time bringing something new with them: a jolt of their own magic. I have no doubt it isn’t their own; they can’t do anything that powerful. This is the work of a Ripper - maybe more than one. It’s meant to stun, to shake us enough to let the drones overwhelm us.

Not happening. I raise both hands and push them back with a wave of energy that causes a ripple effect in everything around us. The first row of drones falls, dead. I would be impressed with myself if I had time.

Much as I would like that to have been good enough to stop their forward push, the rest of the drones move forward mechanically, stepping on the bodies of their companions. Lucas jumps forward, arms swinging, the clang of metal against metal. One drone falls, two.

I try the same thing I pulled on the drone earlier, shooting shafts of concentrated magic straight through their cores. One tumbles. Another. I try not to keep count, try to not focus on the fact that I am killing what were once human beings.

No matter how many the two of us take out, though, there are always more, a seemingly never-ending stream of mindless drones willing to step up and be killed. I take out another as he leaps toward Lucas. Lucas wrestles with a drone, flipping him over and cutting his throat.

It feels like we work for hours but it can’t be more than three minutes or so. Drones continue swarming down the hallway, kicking bodies out of their way, stepping on the ones they can’t move. Lucas works nearby, swinging, slashing. I hear him shout but I can’t afford to turn my attention away from the drones, male and female, headed my way. I can only hope that he is able to keep up without the benefit of magic. We battle on.

It could be my imagination, but I get the impression that their numbers are starting to thin out. I can’t believe that the two of us have managed to beat back such a huge force all by ourselves, but it seems to be true. The amount of drones heading toward us is distinctly less than the number of bodies on the floor. If I weren’t sweating and swinging and focusing on constantly renewing my energy, I would be stunned by what we have accomplished.

The last two drones enter the room and I spare Lucas the effort and zap them both, one after the other. They tumble to the floor, gaping holes in their chests. Lucas turns to me, panting, and nearly cracks a smile. His shirt is a mess of blood - other people’s blood, I think - his own blood slowly leaking down from a wound somewhere under his hair.

He coughs. “We need to get out of here. Head toward the top.”

“Do you think this is all there were?” My whole body trembles with leftover magic, sweating dripping from everywhere.

“Not at all. So let’s get moving before the reinforcements can assemble.”

“And Nick?”

“My guess would be that they’re holding him for leverage somewhere near the Rippers.”

I nod and the two of us begin trotting toward the hallway and the stairs beyond.

We make it only a few steps before I’m hit in the chest with a ball of black magic that knocks the wind out of me. In it, I’m not surprised to feel all of the negative emotions I’ve had tossed at me a few times lately, the despair, the loneliness, the agony. But underneath, there is something new, a very human suffering. It is the mingled emotions of dozens - hundreds maybe - of real humans. It comes to me in a flash of realization: this is the Ripper’s blood magic, the power they have gained for themselves by draining their victims. This is the concentrated suffering of who knows how many people. It pins me to the ground.

My familiar Ripper stands over me, a new army of drones behind him.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” he says, smirking.

The world goes black.