by Chris Cooper
“He is just one man, and the blood seekers are mindless animals. We have four or five men here who can handle a weapon if needed—perhaps not soldiers, but still…”
“He is but one man who sends flames spewing from his hands, and they are but a mindless pack, wanting nothing more than to cut us open and drink our blood. Your plan is pure lunacy!” Aymes yelled.
“Then we sit here and watch the man slaughter everyone in the town on the hill. Can you live with that blood on your hands?”
“Take me to him,” Asher said.
“What?”
“I’ll go to the Collector.”
“Are you nuts? If we do that, what’s all this for?” Oliver replied.
“You promised if the other plans didn’t work, you’d let me try. How many chances do you think we’ll have before he torches the town? He’s not stupid. If you take me to the train, maybe someone can get a clear shot at him when he opens the door.”
“I can’t let you do that,” Oliver replied.
“It isn’t your choice,” Asher shot back.
“I think Asher’s right,” Anna said. “We’ve tried running, and we’ve tried leading him to the blood seekers. We have to give Asher’s plan a try.”
Aymes laughed. “You have all lost your heads.”
Oliver looked at Asher. “Are you sure?”
“It’s worth a try.”
Izzy stood from the bench and approached, pulling the bright flare gun from underneath her jacket. “Could this help?”
Chapter Ten
The sun sank behind the horizon as they put the plan into action. The Clockmaker kept an eye on the square from ground level, while Aymes perched in the tower above them. After several practice shots, he managed to pick off two blood seekers who wandered into the square, then Oliver, Anna, Asher, and Gideon stepped through the side door and out into Briarwood. This time, Oliver kept his weapon in easy reach, and his fingers twitched as he ran them along its handle. Anna carried her bat, and Asher had tucked the flare gun in his belt behind his back.
They passed the bodies of Aymes’s victims then the temporary winter graves of the seekers the Collector had dispatched earlier.
Oliver looked back at the tower and Aymes’s silhouette, barely visible in the light of dusk. Once they stepped into the woods, they left the range of Aymes’s protection to brave the wilderness alone.
Gideon’s limp had improved since the seekers’ earlier attack, but the sound of his steps was still uneven as he crossed the briars, a light crunch followed by a heavier thump.
They stopped at the edge of the woods once they’d broken through to the other side and Izzy’s house came into view.
Oliver longed for the bakery—longed for the warm fire in Izzy’s cheery yellow house, the house that had been reduced to a pile of smoldering rubble. The sorrow for Izzy’s loss left an ache deep in his bones.
As the group stepped into the field, Oliver heard a rustling in the woods behind him.
A blood seeker had followed them to the edge of the woods but stopped short of the dead briar patch.
“He won’t cross,” Oliver said under his breath.
“What makes you think that?” Anna asked.
“Just wishful thinking,” Oliver replied.
The seeker growled and looked down at the patch in front of him. He took a step forward, aligning his ragged boot with a large shoe print Gideon had left in the snow. The briars crunched as the seeker traced Gideon’s steps, reaching halfway across the patch.
“Shoot him,” Anna said.
Oliver raised his gun sword and clicked one of the hammers. He trained the tip of the sword at the blood seeker’s chest and pulled the trigger, but the bullet missed its mark. The blood seeker picked up speed as he crossed.
“It’s been a while,” Oliver said as he frantically cocked the other hammer. He breathed in and exhaled as he pulled the trigger, this time striking the blood seeker in a shoulder, sending him off course and screaming.
As the seeker recovered, Gideon stepped in to finish the job, bringing his sword down.
The blood seeker’s scream echoed through the woods, followed by the calls of others in response.
Limbs snapped on the other side of the briars as a group of seekers approached.
“Do you think the others will catch on?” Asher asked.
“We shouldn’t wait to find out. Let’s get out of here,” Anna replied.
Oliver reloaded his weapon as they jogged up the hill toward Izzy’s.
The hives had been spared—that much he could see from the field. Amidst the chaos, Oliver found it oddly reassuring that the tiny communities had survived the smoke and flame.
Oliver and Anna took a quick detour around the house, and he tried to cement his memories of the place deep within his mind. The fire had left little intact, and even the porte cochere had collapsed atop Izzy’s new station wagon, crushing it under a pile of burned timbers and scorched shingles. Gideon waited patiently until they were ready to move on.
Oliver checked his watch as they sneaked behind the police station.
Eric was sitting alone at a police radio under the dim glow of a desk lamp. When he saw them, he threw his headset on the table and pushed his chair back.
“I can’t believe it,” he said, looking up at the hulking man clutching a broadsword. “Please tell me he’s on our side.”
“This is Gideon,” Oliver replied.
“Where is Izzy? Is she all right?”
“She’s at the town hall in Briarwood,” Oliver replied. “She’s fine for now and in a lot better position than we are. How’s Gary?”
“He’s fine, thank God—well, as fine as a guy can be who’s just been stabbed. He’ll live. He’s over at the hall with the rest of the town. I was just about to head back over there. After Izzy’s house, we thought it best we keep everyone in the same place—a place that’s not made of wood. Thought we’d have a better chance of protecting them.”
“Then why are you here?” Oliver asked.
“Trying to get a message through to Amberley. It’s useless, though—still static.”
Eric rubbed his chin. “I can’t believe this is happening. Mitch is dead, Gary’s stabbed, Izzy’s house is burned to the ground. It’s my job to protect this town, but we see how well that’s going.” He put his head in his hands. “I’d shoot that little weasel myself if I could get close enough.”
“We tried to lure him into Briarwood. We thought the blood seekers would take care of him. He nearly toasted Gideon here.”
Gideon nodded.
Eric lifted his head. “Blood seekers?” When Oliver started to speak, Eric held up a hand. “No, never mind—one evil nemesis at a time. Please tell me you have a plan.”
“We’re going to take the train,” Anna replied.
“Take the train? Have you lost your mind? You’ve seen what that man’s capable of.”
Asher stepped forward. “He came here for me, and I’m going to give him what he wants.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m the bait. When he opens the door to take me, the rest of us will be waiting.”
“And if that doesn’t work?” Eric asked.
“Then we take the townspeople to Briarwood,” Oliver replied.
“To the town in the woods?”
“They’ve fortified their town hall. Ours may be made of stone, but Briarwood’s hall is practically a castle. We’ll be safer there.”
“Why would they have fortified the town hall?” Eric asked.
“Those blood seekers you didn’t want me to explain—but it’s take our chances with them or stay here and burn alive.”
Eric rubbed his temples. “What do we need to do?”
“Where is the Collector?” Oliver asked.
“Who?”
“That’s his name. He told us to call him the Collector.”
Eric smirked. “Of course he did. I assume he’s back at the station, but we haven’t seen him s
ince the fire at Izzy’s. He comes out for short bursts of time, but that train is locked up tight. We can’t get in.”
“We’ll need to get to the hall first. From there, we’ll need a few townspeople to help with the plan, if we can get anyone to agree to it.”
Eric nodded, rose from his chair, and walked to the window looking out onto the snow-covered square. “I trust you. Just tell me what you need.”
Hidden by the haze of the storm, they crept across the square, and an explosion of chatter spewed out into the winter air as Oliver pulled open one of the doors to the hall. The townsfolk had rearranged the chairs and sat in small circles, talking nervously.
The mayor rushed toward them and wrapped his arms around Anna.
“Are you all right? Where is Izzy? What happened in the woods?”
Anna said nothing but squeezed him tightly with her muscular-baker arms.
“Izzy is all right,” Oliver replied. “We’ve been holed up in the town in the woods. They are safe for now.”
“Why was the loudspeaker calling for you?” Madeline broke through the chatter and strode to the front of the room.
“The man’s looking for Asher,” Oliver replied.
“The odd boy who’s been staying with you?” she asked. “He’s the reason for all of this?”
Uneasiness spread in the pit of Oliver’s stomach, and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat.
“That’s true, but—” Oliver started.
“Where is he?” Madeline interrupted.
The crowd parted around Asher, who had backed up against the wall.
“Let’s not lose our heads,” Oliver replied.
“Lose our heads?” Madeline was taken aback. “No, no… We have to keep him safe. We can’t let that miscreant waltz off with him to who knows where. He may not be the most social citizen of Christchurch, but he’s a citizen all the same.”
Oliver’s mouth hung agape as he gradually comprehended her words. “So you're saying you want to help him?”
Madeline’s cheeks flashed red. “Of course we want to help him. He’s a member of this town. We can’t just let a bully wander in here and take over. We won’t let him get away with killing Mitch or burning Isabelle’s house. We’ve worked too hard to build this community, and we’re not letting anyone take it away from us. Isn’t that right?” She turned toward the crowd, who replied with a collective yawp.
“We have a plan,” Oliver replied.
“Then please, tell us,” Madeline said.
Madeline stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled to quiet the crowd, an unladylike act that seemed uncharacteristic. All her snobbishness was gone, apparently.
“Thanks,” Oliver said.
Grade-school Oliver came rushing back, and he found it difficult to stand up and speak in front of the room full of people even though he’d been able to brave the blood seekers and the Collector.
“I, um…” he started as the crowd gathered around. He was unsure of where to begin as the situation seemed so unreal.
“We’re in trouble!” Anna shouted from the back of the room.
A nervous laugh trickled through the crowd.
Oliver settled on telling the God’s honest truth. “The man who’s been setting fire to the town—the Collector, he calls himself—is here for Asher. Some of you know the truth—that Asher has a special ability, but this ability is what’s bringing these people to our doorstep. They want his blood. I’m not sure I understand it all myself, but his blood has special properties. There are people in this world with similar abilities, but none as special as Asher’s. The man with the orange hair—he’s another. It’s why he’s so dangerous. I know this sounds insane, but he can shoot flames from his hands.”
“I’ve seen it,” Eric chimed in. “And many of you have seen it too. We’ve got to get out of denial. What Oliver’s saying is true.”
Oliver cleared his throat. “If we don’t deliver Asher to the train by midnight, he will burn the town, and he’s more than capable. He’s killed before, and I’m sure he’ll do it again.”
“That’s reassuring,” Madeline said sarcastically. “What do we do?”
“We give him exactly what he wants.” Oliver continued, “Our other plans haven’t worked, so we’re going to use Asher as a lure to coax him out of the train and hope we have enough collective strength to outsmart and overpower him. He won’t believe that I’d turn Asher in after I’ve fought so hard to keep him safe. But if some wily townspeople get fed up with the destruction and took matters into their own hands, that might be something the Collector buys. We need a few of you to pretend to capture us and bring us to the train. Once we’re there, if we can lure him out, we’ll need someone with good aim.” Oliver nodded at Eric. “If that doesn’t work, Gideon will be waiting to strike from the top of the train. If we have several plans in place, one of them is bound to pay off.”
“Why don’t we just leave town? Go to Amberley?” one of the townspeople asked.
“We tried to take Mitch, but the Collector has trapped us here, somehow. We’re isolated from the outside world. The phones are down, but there’s also a barrier surrounding us, kind of like the one that crumbled over Briarwood a few weeks ago.”
Harry shot up from the crowd. “I, for one, think we should do as Oliver says. What do we have to lose?”
“Our town, if we don’t try,” another replied. “The boy’s right! I’m not going to sit by and watch while that man burns our town to the ground. Let’s show this bastard what we’re made of.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Madeline asked. “Let’s go!”
“We have a backup plan,” Oliver said. “If this doesn’t work, there is a safe space in the town in the woods. As much as most of you would like to believe it doesn’t exist, I know you’ve all seen it, peeking out above the trees. The hall with the tower is reinforced. Take the side entrance, and you’ll find shelter there. But that plan has risks you should know about. There are people in the woods, scattered about Briarwood, who also seek to do us harm.”
“Harm?” Madeline asked.
Oliver looked down at his shoes. “They want our blood. We’d have a better chance if we ran into one of them than the Collector, but we have to stay together.”
“Now, wait a minute.” A man named Tom stood up, despite the best efforts of his wife to hold him down. “First, you want us to believe a man can shoot fire from his hands. Now, you expect us to buy that there is a group of people waiting to suck our blood in the woods? And you expect us to eagerly march over there and be eaten alive? It all sounds like nonsense to me,” he said.
“It’s not nonsense, Tom.” Eric stood to address the crowd. “We’ve seen things in the last year that can’t be explained with reason. You’ve felt it, just as I did, when the Siren took over. We may have swept it under the rug with the Witch, but we can’t continue to ignore it—something evil is afoot in Christchurch. We have to trust him.”
Tom thought for a moment then sat down next to his wife and folded his arms.
“If our plan to take the train succeeds, you’ll be safe here. But if it falls apart, you have to be prepared to flee to Briarwood,” Oliver said.
Madeline led a small pack of townspeople to the train station. Eric held Oliver’s hands behind him, while Martin gripped Asher’s. Anna hid at the edge of the station, just behind a closed news kiosk.
Gideon sneaked around back and lifted himself onto the top of the train, where he quietly crept from car to car until he rested above the door to the engine where Oliver had first met the Collector. The roof must have been slippery in the snow, but Gideon held firm and crouched, steadying himself above the door and preparing to strike.
Oliver and the others waited awkwardly for a moment or two, hoping the Collector would see them, but the metal sliding door remained shut.
“Hello?” Madeline yelled after the period of awkward silence. “We brought the boy,” she shouted against the wind.
No
response.
Madeline stepped up the metal stairs to the door and tapped on it with her wedding ring before stepping back into the snow.
“This is ridiculous,” she said, crossing her arms and bracing herself against the cold.
A light flipped on in the front car, but the door stayed shut.
Martin pushed Asher toward the train car. “We’ve brought what you’ve asked for!” he shouted.
“Town turn over on ya, did it Oliver?” The Collector’s voice boomed through the loudspeakers.
“We just want our town back and for you to leave,” Martin said.
“They’re a small price to pay,” Madeline added, putting her acting skills to the test.
“Send Asher up here. Do whatever you want with the other boy—he’s useless to me.”
Gideon sat just above the closed door, waiting for his chance to strike, but the Collector refused to open it.
“What are you waiting for? Come here, boy.”
Asher stepped forward but stopped short of the steps.
“Get up here and stand in front of the door!” The Collector was clearly growing impatient.
“No way I’m going to get a shot,” Eric whispered to Oliver.
Asher looked back nervously and climbed the metal steps until his body blocked the door.
The door shot open, and the Collector yanked Asher inside, but not before Asher grabbed the flare gun from behind his back and fired.
A red burst of light framed Asher in silhouette, and he fell backward onto the platform. The Collector emerged from the car as hissing sparks and smoke from the flare lapped at his heels.
He stumbled forward and let out a yelp as Gideon pounced from behind, kicking him off the steps and onto the ground. Although the snow might have cushioned his fall somewhat, the man smacked his face hard on the concrete and lay motionless.
Gideon dropped from the train, crashing down upon the man. The Collector’s lighter skittered across the ground, and Oliver rushed over and tucked it safely into a pocket.
The man tried to scramble free at first, letting out a slurred “Let me go” before passing out completely.