Amongst the Fallen

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Amongst the Fallen Page 11

by Devin Lee Carlson


  “What’s so urgent?” she asked, juggling two glasses along with the bottle. She placed the latter on the coffee table and almost knocked over the contraption Jules Verne would drool over at first glance. “Don’t put that thing in your carry-on or airport security won’t let you board the plane.” Elbowing a pillow aside, she sat beside me.

  “Something you need to know.” I tossed back the drink and held out the glass for a refill.

  For what felt like an eternity, my sister stared into my eyes, into our bleak future. If she couldn’t synthesize the serum, she would eventually turn into the monster that I had welcomed more each day. Dreams of a normal life relied on her success. She had vowed to begin the research as soon as we returned to Arizona.

  “I’m not sorry we have to leave so soon,” Ariane said, sipping her wine. “Did you find anything out about our father? I know Sabree was the ghost.”

  My sarcastic chuckle pierced her ears. “Pop’s dead and you’re right, Sabree’s no ghost. This whole trip was just a scam to get the journal.”

  “So, Sabree is not what you’d call a friendly face?”

  “Let me finish.” I held a finger to her mouth without touching her. “Pop loaded the journal onto nine flash drives—three copies of each section divided into thirds. Apparently, Eric was one of the nine who hid a drive. He knows more than he’s letting on.”

  “Definitely a complicated mess.” Ariane topped off her glass, stood up, and stepped in front of the wet bar. “Eric never mentioned the drives to me.”

  “His involvement goes much deeper, so trust might be an issue.” I paused to take another swig. “I never told you what happened after they found Pop murdered.”

  “Scotland Yard never confirmed murder,” she reminded me.

  I shot her a warning glance. “Well, they never proved otherwise. Remember when Pop said he found DNA from an ancient being buried in Scotland?” Sabree had muttered something about zygote DNA, but alien DNA was alien DNA no matter which one Pop used. I swallowed hard to find my voice. “The same shit he used to transform us. This ancient being has living relatives—vampire slash angel-like creatures who exist today.”

  “Like Sabree. Is he trying to get the journal for Wayde, or does he have his own agenda?”

  “I’m betting on his own agenda.” I sucked in a breath. “The journal contains information he and others like him seek. Forbidden to humans.”

  “How many others?” She gulped another shot of sweet almond liquor.

  “According to Sabree, several clans.” I tossed the pillow aside, jumped to my feet, and approached her with outstretched hands. “Look—”

  “No, you look. You’re saying more freaks like us roam the earth.”

  The word freak made me cringe. In a sense, she was calling us monsters.

  “Does Eric know about these clans?”

  “Nothing can change what we are.” I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. “Not even the journal.”

  “No! I won’t accept that.” Her hair whipped into her face when she spun around to leave.

  Before she could reach the door, I zipped in front of it to block her escape. “What’s your hurry?” I grabbed her hand and gazed into her eyes. “I’ve opened up to you, told you everything. It’s your turn.”

  Ariane glanced behind her and then back at me. “How’d you move so fast?” When I simply shrugged, she asked “My turn? What do you mean?”

  Stubborn woman, my sister. Eric’s involvement with Duncan went deeper than we both realized. The so-called friendship seemed too convenient. Would her trust in me diminish if I told her about her true feelings for Eric? Now was not the time.

  Ariane tried to yank her hand free and winced when my grasp tightened, forcing her to face me as I towered over her. The pressure behind my eyes increased, certain the rims pooled crimson.

  She dropped her glass. It bounced off the carpet before it shattered.

  “Tell me the truth,” I hissed, grabbing her shoulders and drawing her up to me. I held her so close my hot breath ricocheted off her own. My irises smoldered.

  She glared at me with the evil eye. “Nothing to tell. Eric helps me with my business because our father no longer employs him. He’s a good friend.”

  “Nothing more? I don’t believe you.”

  “You’re overreacting.” Ariane shook her head. “Get a grip. We have enough serum to last us a few months, which should give you plenty of time to find the journal.”

  Dropping my hands, I shrugged in defeat. My sister knew how to change the subject faster than I could zip around. Anything to avoid telling me the truth. “No more anti-vamp serum for me. The rest are yours.” One of us had to take advantage of the monstrous—her word not mine—perks to defend ourselves against Wayde and the Fallen. I voted me and left without waiting for her protest. Doubted she’d even bother. “Meet you at the airport.”

  18

  NEWFOUND FIENDSHIP

  T he time to set the plan into motion began. First, I excused the help for the rest of the week to get rid of any witnesses. Next, Ariane got into the taxi that would take her to the airport. She’d wait for me there, safe within the duty-free shops. I had to stay behind for one hour—not by choice—but to carry out unfinished business.

  My pack slung over one shoulder, I stood beside my suitcase and waited until the taxi drove away. I drew in a cleansing breath, the task ahead troublesome. With Ariane safely on her way, I marched to the library.

  A quick scan revealed Sabree was brooding alone. I walked over to the overstuffed chair and purposely let my tall form overshadow the immortal. “You stole the last pill,” I growled.

  “Guilty as charged, but trust me, I’ll never take another. Those things impede our natural abilities—this I learned firsthand.” He eyed the pack. “What’s with the bag?”

  As I had hoped, Sabree’s curiosity got the best of him. “I’m leaving.” I hoisted the pack onto the coffee table to set the bait.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” he snarled.

  To ensure our escape, I planned to slip the reserve stash—all three anti-vamp pills—into his ever-present wine glass. After his confession about the negative reaction to the drug, the heavy dose would curb his abilities. I searched the room and spotted an open bottle of red wine.

  A sideways glance revealed Sabree was leaning over my daypack, the distraction used to my advantage. I crumbled the pills into one glass and then filled both with wine. Turning to him, I offered him the spiked flute. “A toast to our newfound fiendship.”

  Sabree shook his head. “Cute play on words. I know we’ve been at odds, but I had hoped to be friends. Sit. Let’s talk you out of leaving.” He drank his glass dry.

  Too easy. Satisfied my plan hit the mark, I fist pumped the air. Now to find a way to stall him until the drug worked its magic. My pack came to mind, so to entice him, I pulled a few objects in and out. “Were you snooping in my bag?”

  As Sabree whirled around to speak, he swayed.

  Too bad fish weren’t as easy to lure. Shaky fingers brushed through my hair.

  “You have something I want.” He slurred the words. “Give me the journal and maybe I’ll let you live.”

  I reorganized the overstuffed pack, pretending to be too busy to pay attention to his demand. My keen peripheral vision caught a glimpse of the snoop leaning in my direction. He almost lost his balance. I smothered the urge to laugh when his eyes caught sight of the pistol.

  As expected, Sabree slipped his hand into the side pocket while keeping an eye on me. He snatched the gun and aimed it, his foot jamming the coffee table. He growled a curse and ordered, “Hand over the journal.”

  How predictable. The drug worked its magic. Sabree fell for the trap. When I turned to face him, face the gun, my mouth dropped open. One foot kicked the other as I took a quick step back. Overacted a wee bit but cared less. “Give it to you? You can’t be serious—what about your threats to destroy us?”

  Sabree shook the gun aim
ed at my head. His heavy breaths made him sound like he was fighting to stay awake. “Not afraid to shoot,” he said.

  “According to you, bullets cannot kill the Fallen.” I inched closer to reclaim the gun. “I’ll give you the drive if you let me catch my flight.” His skeptical expression revealed he’d never fall for my lies, so my mind raced for another approach. “Look, I know you’re not loyal to Wayde. How about you and I join forces.”

  He aimed the weapon, zeroed in on my forehead. Why would he use a mortal instrument instead of draining me of my blood?

  Even if bullets couldn’t kill the Fallen, a bullet in the skull would cause a massive headache. I froze. Steam however…

  Still trembling, Sabree positioned himself between me and the door. “Give me the journal and I will bargain with Wayde. After all, it’s the only thing he wants.”

  “You must take me for a bloody idiot.” I coughed into my hand. “The serum impedes our abilities—yours too—so why hand it over to the humans?” My eyes lit up with renewed insight. “Maybe you want it for yourself. So you can control the Fallen.” The barrel aimed inches from my face, he wouldn’t think twice about shooting me. Too bad steam was the ray gun’s only ammo. I almost chuckled, my hand fondling the genuine article in my coat pocket—a Glock.

  “Do you have it or not?” Sabree asked, slurring his words.

  I pulled the flash drive from my pocket and waved it in his face. The overhead light reflected off metallic drive, enticing him the way a shiny lure baited a fish.

  “Sweet victory.” Eyes widened as a wicked smile formed across his face. “Give it to me. I’ll take it to my clan.”

  “That’s it then.”

  “Correct, I’m not working for Wayde or the DanJal. Unbeknownst to our mutual friends, my clan ordered me to apprehend the journal and make sure the DanJal end up with nothing, not even your body.”

  Angered by his deceit, although not surprised, I asked, “My body? That’s all you’ll get. Ariane’s at the airport and, because of your incompetence, the DanJal have Azumi. You’ll have to drag me kicking and screaming back to that dog food factory.”

  “Enough talk; hand over the stick,” he ordered, waving the phony gun.

  In a fluid wave, I tossed the drive overhead and pulled out the Glock. When Sabree leapt to catch the drive, I fired a warning shot. The thundering blast startled him. Startled me. “Sorry, but I have a plane to catch.”

  Sabree returned fire. An eyebrow climbed up his forehead. Steam fizzled from the mock weapon. He tossed the toy aside. “Merde.” Green eyes darkened to a rich teal.

  His eyes changed color almost as efficiently as a mood ring. Accustomed to Sabree’s explosive temper, the new hue threw me a hint that suggested he’d refuse to admit defeat. My hand shook. Do it now or never. I pulled the trigger, expecting him to lunge for the gun. A bullet tore into his gut. His cry curled the hairs on the back of my neck.

  Coughing up blood, Sabree choked on his words, barely able to speak. “I will kill you. You will never escape.” He tried to mist, but the effects of the anti-vamp pills had taken its toll. His body reappeared in the same spot.

  Dread laced with bitterness churned my gut. I had never held a gun much less shoot a man. Then again, Sabree was no man. He was an immortal and one or fifty bullets would never do the job. Before he started to heal, I bit my lower lip and shot him twice in the heart.

  Enraged, Sabree tore open his shirt. Crimson fluid gushed from all three wounds. Bewilderment contorted his face as he collapsed.

  Too much blood left me unable to control the hunger that welled deep within me. I shook all over as the blood disintegrated into a fine dust only to be replenished with fresh blood flowing from the wounds.

  Success. The second and third bullet hurled Sabree into oblivion. I held my breath as I approached the corpse-like body and held out a trembling hand to check his wrist for signs of life. No pulse or escaping breath, the immortal appeared to be dead. Curious about the crimson dust, I dipped a finger into the powdery substance. Warm to the touch, it sent a shiver up my hand. I placed it to my lips and blew softly, watching the dust disperse into the air.

  Enough time wasted on the undead. I leaned over to retrieve the ray gun. Along with it, I plucked a few strands of Sabree’s blond hair and stuffed them into a vial. “Pardon moi,” I said to the lifeless body at my feet, “but I have a rendezvous with a jet.” I glanced once more at him, eyeing the ashen pallor and the dried blood. Had he lied about his immortality? A few bullets could never compete with a beheading. He’d still take time to heal.

  A text from Ariane chimed. Without bothering to reply, I left the Glock on the table and stuffed the ray gun and vial into my jacket to put inside the suitcase. Security would confiscate my daypack for sure. I opened the library door and skidded to a halt.

  The head man of Wayde’s security stood in the way. The hulk of a man reeked of Sabree’s peculiar caramel scent, no doubt marked by him. After the first bullet, Sabree must have called Hoffstot to come to his rescue. Apparently, his Igor-type assistant must’ve been parked outside the estate all this time.

  “He’s dead and no longer controls your actions, so get out of my way.” Unfortunately, Wayde signed his paychecks.

  The watchdog blocked the door, his massive hands planted firmly on his waist. “No chance.” He shoved me back into the library with ease, knocking me off balance. His gaze shot over to Sabree and then to the bloodied floor. He pulled out his cell and slammed the door shut. Before he had the chance to call, a bullet ripped through his hand, shattering the phone into plastic projectiles. He cried out. The gun fired again when he pounced on top of me. We crashed together onto the rug.

  I rolled the heavyweight over and scrambled to my feet. Hoffstot grabbed my ankle and hurled me downward. Both arms reached out to break my fall. I kicked him over and over again until he released my leg. Free, I jumped up and rushed for the door. He slammed me bodily into the wall, knocking the breath from my lungs. My head filled with brilliant embers that whirled until they dissipated into blackness. Before I passed out, Hoffstot collapsed from the loss of blood.

  The chime of Duncan’s grandfather clock woke me. My lids fluttered open, blurred vision focusing on the room. The scuffle had left it a wreck—furniture overturned and crimson stains decorated the wall-to-wall carpet. Evidence of my defense still lingered. Sabree had not moved and Hoffstot lay motionless, barely breathing. I pulled out my phone and glanced at the time. Only minutes had passed.

  When I sat upright, my head spun from the gnawing hunger for blood. I stared at Hoffstot’s bloodied hand and shuddered, realizing the choice I had to make. Drink enough to regain my strength or risk failure in my escape to the States. I lifted the limp hand to my mouth. My lips puckered as if they were going to suck on a lemon instead. After a pause, the tip of my tongue dabbed a few drops of freshly oozing blood. When my gut didn’t hurl, I sucked on the open wound, letting the human blood fill me with an inner strength, satisfying the hunger that tormented me for days.

  Not so bad. I stopped, unwilling to drain the huge man. Although already marked by Sabree, I somehow fed on Hoffstot, this feat impossible according to him. The immortal, deader than dead, might be the reason.

  Content, my body nourished, my concern turned to Ariane. Hopefully, she didn’t run into any of Wayde’s men at the airport. Her eagerness to leave Scotland matched my own. Already late, I wiped my prints off my father’s Glock, tossed it next to the two bodies, and bolted out the door. Gravel flew from the spinning tires.

  Part Two

  19

  DEEP DARK ABYSS

  A faint ripple of light flickered in the distance. I glanced around only to discover I was floating in deep space. How did I get here? Another dream? A fit? My gaze caught sight of another flicker, brighter this time. It sparked again and pulsated, matching the rhythm of my heartbeat. With each thump, the beacon of light flared outward, magnifying thousands of miles in every direction. I gazed upon the spec
tacle as it expanded to the size of the sun. Its brilliance radiated, almost blinding me, yet, I continued to stare in anticipation, wondering if the beacon would ignite or extinguish. The spectacle did not disappoint.

  Luminosities fluttered around like birds and sparkled as if decorated with fiber optic lights. They materialized everywhere. I guessed millions, fewer nearer the bright beacon, more of them farther away. Those flying nearest me flaunted a remarkable amount of detail. The translucent humanoid shapes glided along, their forms consisting purely of light and energy. Their diamond-like wings fluttered in a slow-motion gracefulness. One drifted so close, it almost brushed against me. She seemed feminine in outline with flowing fiber optic-like hair. The apparition looked familiar; I recalled her features yet couldn’t remember her name.

  She gestured me to follow.

  Uncertain if she was waving at me, I looked behind, but I was alone. Unlike other visits where lighted flying missiles attacked me, I felt no malevolence amongst these beings. As the masses flew toward the beacon, I envisioned a twirling kaleidoscope of jewels fusing with a central luminescent star. The heavenly spectacle overwhelmed me, surpassing anything I had ever seen. My throat squeezed tighter with rising wonderment. Part of my essence understood the purpose of this summoning; yet, the comprehension of its meaning eluded me.

  Sensing no danger, I followed her, blending in with the others, experiencing a sort of communal journey. A purpose to an end, it being the central star-like being. Yes, I sensed a being. Or was this the renowned light at the end of the tunnel? Heaven? Were these beings considered souls, angels, or something else altogether?

  Curiosity pressed me onward, but unlike the others, the closer I tried to fly, the more I moved backward. I couldn’t reach the light. Something or someone held me back—pulled me back.

  “A t h o r s i s.” The same whispering breath snuffed out the light.

 

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