Vile Magic

by Holly Hook

"That's what I'm doing."

  The woman cried out. She was in pain and a surge of guilt rose up inside of me. She was sure a wimp for being in the ATC. Most of them were tougher than this.

  I took a pistol off the woman as well, finding it strapped right above her ankle. I had forgotten about that. She smelled like weak adrenaline now. "I'm dizzy," she said.

  "Then get into the back of the van and lie down," I said. "We'll get you some water." I pointed the taser at her and she climbed in. The prison area had a faint doggy smell and a wood smoke smell. At least one werewolf and one Mage had ridden in it not too long ago.

  The woman climbed in and flopped down to the floor, putting her feet up one of the benches. She was pale and looked sick. Blood loss would do that to anybody. We closed the door and Xavier and I had to drag the unconscious man from the van and into the back to lie next to the woman. We tossed him on the floor. There was no time to waste.

  The radio inside crackled. "Where are you at, Sanders?"

  "Time to go," I said.

  Xavier and I closed the doors on the two agents. Of course, the doors locked from the outside, making it impossible for them to get out on their own. I knew there was bulletproof, reinforced glass between the prison area and us--there had to be--and I wondered why the ATC hadn't had the smarts to make their regular windows the same way.

  I retrieved my sword, finding it fifty feet behind the van. Someone asked Sanders where she was again in a crackling radio voice. They asked her to please answer. Then it was my job to climb into the drivers' seat, now that I had the most experience driving. Our next step was to go to Mack and see if he could glamour us to look like the two agents. It was the best case scenario. He might not even be able to do it or he might even refuse. If that happened, we would have to find a way to make the two agents we had get us into the bunker. That was Plan B and I didn't like that one.

  I closed the door. More glass rained down. "Can you make that look not broken?" I asked Xavier as he put on his seat belt next to me.

  “I'll try,” Xavier said. “Like I said, I've only ever tried to glamour weapons.”

  I found the gearshift. I was thrown off all over again by the van. It handled differently than the car. Driving the van took a little more practice. By now, the other vans had vanished. We weren't going to follow them, anyway.

  "Sanders! Ernest! Answer me!" The man on the radio was getting more desperate.

  I took the radio and smashed it against the dashboard, breaking it. Then I spotted a GPS on the dash, complete with a glowing map, and I smashed that against the dash, too, Doing that while trying to drive almost sent us into the ditch. Xavier yelled at me to watch what I was doing and reminded me to turn the headlights off. I fumbled around and found how to do it. It worked and my gray night vision returned. I was glad it was back. It was clearer than my color vision and showed a lot more detail. I was meant to see in the dark, after all.

  "They know something's wrong," Xavier said. "I bet we just vanished off their GPS."

  "Good," I said, even though that was both good and bad. We had to hurry. I thought of turning around and driving further into the country, but the ATC would expect that. The dirt road didn't go anywhere--only into open farms and eventually a dead end. We had no choice but to drive back towards the city. Mack was waiting there.

  So far, no one was coming back for us. Xavier had his eyes closed, trying to focus as he muttered some magical words that only the Mages knew.

  The windows stayed broken.

  "I don't think this is going to work," Xavier said.

  "Then we're going to have to drive to the junkyard and hope Mack can replace the windows," I said. "The ATC isn't going to let us in if they think something's wrong."

  "He might be able to," Xavier said. "We might have been better off making the two agents drive."

  "We can't now," I said. "Sanders is ready to pass out."

  Xavier checked behind us. "She's still lying down," he said. "She's conscious. The man's sitting down next to her. They're scared. I hope Aunt Primrose is all right."

  "That's the first time you ever said that."

  "Well, she might hate me but I do," Xavier said. "We've got to free her."

  I knew where Xavier was going. He wanted to restore his honor and he wanted to do that by killing Thoreau again. I knew what it was like to go through life reviled by your own family. The fact had brought Xavier and I closer together, at least at first.

  At least he had a chance to do it. I was jealous. I had no chance. I might be a monster forever.

  I found the subdivision again and drove back towards what I thought was the city. We passed the house with the party and a couple of guys were standing outside where the car had been. One was on the phone. So far, we hadn't run into the ATC coming back after us. They had to be close. When I paid attention, I heard the motors of their vans only a few streets away, heading back towards the dirt road we had come from. They were going back to check.

  I was willing to bet they'd do more than that, too.

  "We're past them," I said a minute later.

  "We need to go," Xavier said. "We have to leave this area. I'm sure the entire ATC knows there's a missing van by now."

  I heard police sirens in the distance. Yep. "I think you're right," I said. I listened. Even this late at night there was plenty of traffic in the distance. We would have to blend in somehow. It was our only chance other than hiding.

  I hit the gas and turned, again and again, getting lost in the subdivision but taking us further from the other vans. We passed the bus stop we had used earlier. I hit a curb twice and knocked over a trash can. I felt like a fresh drivers ed student trying to dodge cones. This must be what it was like. My condition didn't give me any special driving abilities. Trish was good at driving, but I knew now that was due to experience.

  "Where are we going?" Xavier asked.

  "I don't know," I said.

  The sirens grew louder and I found a sign that pointed to the expressway. I hoped we weren't in for a police chase. Xavier and I would never get out of that. It looked like this wasn't going to be so easy after all. If they caught us, we would be taking a ride into whatever trap Thoreau had set up and not on our own terms.

  I found the ramp and realized what I was going to do. The sirens grew yet louder--there were a lot of them--and Xavier flinched like he could hear them as well. They must be ready to get off the expressway. We had to be on. I hit the gas and got onto the ramp. Up the hill, traffic zoomed down the expressway at speeds I hadn't even dared yet.

  "Alyssa," Xavier breathed.

  I gulped. "Just so you know, we're probably going to die."

  It was scary, but I mashed the accelerator and watched the speedometer go up to forty, then fifty, then sixty...did people seriously drive at seventy?

  I reached that seventy mark and Xavier grabbed onto the armrest. I was glad for his vote of confidence. All the color drained from his face and I messed with the handle that must be the turn signal. I hadn't even used it yet. Finally I got it to click, but in the wrong direction. I tried to switch it back but wound up turning on the windshield wipers instead.

  I caught a glimpse of a whole trail of police cruisers getting off the expressway on the other side of the road. We had barely dodged them. At least something was going in my favor. But now I was driving along the three lanes of the freeway and a semi was coming up behind us. I held my breath.

  "Screw this," I muttered, and looked behind me to see if I had a space. Someone got over to give me room and I swung the van over, almost into the middle lane instead of the right one. Someone honked and Xavier swore. I righted the van and managed to stay in my own lane. I also realized I had slowed down to sixty and the semi changed lanes to go around us, but we were alive. I hadn't splattered our guts all over the freeway yet.

  The police sirens began to fade. We had left the old subdivision in time to avoid them. If we hadn't taken this ramp, we might never have gotten out.

&nb
sp; "Alyssa. That was good for your first time driving," Xavier said.

  "Thanks," I said. "At least I learned how to work the right turn signal."

  "That's a start," Xavier said. "But you might want to turn on your headlights."

  My color vision had come back. I thought for a second and then turned the headlights on. I realized what a dangerous thing I'd done. We had escaped detection by the police by getting on with the headlights off, but Normals probably couldn't spot other vehicles too well in the dark without them on. I had to remember that.

  So I kept them on.

  "You can speed up," Xavier said.

  "Are you sure?"

  "The speed limit says it's seventy."

  "So you're going to be my backseat driver," I said.

  "Hey. I'm helpful, right?"

  A man passed us in a sports car with the top down. He stared at my busted window and lingered in the next lane for a bit. I tried not to stare back but I let my gaze go to the guy for a second. He was an older man who was clearly having a midlife crisis and the look on his face was suspicious.

  "We can't stay on the freeway long," I said as the guy sped ahead and got in front of us. He might call the authorities on us. A teen girl driving an ATC van with broken windows wasn't a normal sight.

  "I agree," Xavier said. "I think we have six miles before the exit that will take us to Mack's. Stay here in the right lane. I'll tell you when to get off."

  I hadn't lived in metro Cumberland for long so Xavier had to be my guide. I trusted his judgment. I kept driving, doing sixty and letting people pass us because I was too scared to go any faster. I never wanted to drive again. I barely tapped the gas pedal, afraid it would send me into the back of the semi that was now in front of us. Downtown Cumberland got larger, complete with the side of the ATC headquarters.

  The truck posed another problem. The semi blocked out the view of the helicopter at first.

  I heard the blades a second before it came into view, swinging a searchlight. I swore. The helicopter was maybe a couple of miles to our right, flying over the dark neighborhoods where they thought we must be, and the searchlight swung back and forth in search of a van with busted windows. I knew that one call from someone on the expressway would get that helicopter over here in a hurry. We could never outrun it.

  The helicopter was an ATC one. I could see the letters on the side. I couldn't tell if it had guns. If it did, they were hidden so the public wouldn't freak out. The ATC had to keep a good image, after all.

  "That's not good," Xavier said.

  "Keep an eye on it," I said as traffic slowed. We were getting closer to downtown and even at almost midnight, there was a bit of gridlock. It wasn't what we needed.

  I hit the brake too hard and came to a stop well behind the semi, then got going again. There was another on ramp and people were slowing to let some other cars join the traffic. Once all this calmed down, I swore, we would have to move out of the city.

  "Come on," Xavier said right before we got going again.

  I wanted to pass the semi. This driving thing was getting a little better and I had more control, but there were too many cars in the other lane zooming past and no one would let us over. People were so rude on the freeway.

  "Um..." Xavier said.

  "I know that that means," I said, terror exploding in my chest. "Someone called us in and the helicopter's on its way."

  "You might say that," Xavier said.

  I thought of the guy in the sports car, who had just exited the freeway. He must have gone and placed his call and got off the road to do so. How courteous. I looked over and saw that the helicopter's angle had changed. Its headlights faced us. The guy must have given the authorities our mile marker and the way we were headed. The helicopter would cut us off if we kept going this way.

  And we had just passed the last exit. I couldn't go any faster than fifty now. The sign hanging off a bridge told me that we had another mile to the next one and traffic was already slowing down ahead--big time--for a construction zone. An arrow pointed to the right and orange barrels blocked off the left lane. They were tearing out the median, which was all smooth dirt with a port-a-potty at the end of it. All the workers had gone home for the night, leaving dead equipment.

  I had a crazy idea.

  "We have to change direction," I said.

  I didn't bother with the turn signals or being polite. Traffic was slowing. We were about to be stuck. I swung into the next lane, and then the next as people honked. I struck an orange barrel, which toppled into the median.

  "I can't believe this," Xavier said.

  The helicopter grew louder. Its searchlight swung like some alien beam. It would reach the freeway ahead in seconds. Once it found us, we were done. We would never outrun it.

  I turned onto the dirt.

  The van bounced and even though the bulletproof glass, I heard the woman screaming.

  I had to keep the four of us alive.

  I hit the gas and we drove through and out of the median, making a U-turn and heading back the way we'd come. If we were lucky, people would think we were answering a call. A lot of ATC vans were out lately. They were emergency vehicles and allowed to use those turnaround things in the middle of the freeway, right?

  I hit the gas and merged on off the shoulder. The horrible road noise under us grated on my nerves. Xavier gripped his armrest again. Someone else honked but I mashed the accelerator faster...faster...I couldn't give anyone time to see our busted windows and place another call. The searchlight of the helicopter touched the freeway about a half mile behind us, expecting to find us there. It drifted away, going in the direction we would have been driving in.

  "Nice move," Xavier managed. "Are you sure you're bad at driving?"

  "I'm sure that was illegal," I said, wanting to melt with the near miss. We weren't done yet. This side of the freeway, heading out of the city, wasn't nearly as crowded. It was another saving grace. I continued to drive and we passed the exit that the police had all gotten off of. They expected us to be heading into the city now. I thought of Mack and how much we needed him.

  I had no choice but to drive away from him now.

  Chapter Eleven

  The van had plenty of gas. That was another saving grace because stopping at a gas station would have been too risky. We drove through medium sized towns, then small towns, then finally countryside. Cumberland turned into a gathering of lights in the dark behind us.

  We had driven for over half an hour.

  "I think we're safe," Xavier said at that point. "Alyssa...I have to pee."

  I pulled off at an exit that promised a 24 hour McDonald's. We had to stop and find a way to contact Mack. If we couldn't get to him, he'd have to come out to us. To get to Mack, I'd have to call Janine and ask her and George to go to the junkyard. Neither one of them were wanted.

  The clock on the van said that it was twelve thirty. There was no risk of the sun for a while yet.

  I didn't know the name of the town I pulled off at. I had never been in this area before. I stopped at the McDonald's and parked back near the Dumpster to hide the broken windows. Xavier ran inside and I wondered if the two agents in the back had to go, but we couldn't risk letting them out here. I'd ask Xavier to go back in and get them some food when he was done, but he took a while inside and then came out with a couple of large bags. We'd been thinking the same way. One had to be for him and the other for the agents in the back.

  He got in and the food smells overtook me. "Thanks for stopping," he said. "I should eat as much as I can so I can keep my strength up. We need to keep the agents well fed in case you need them again. Well, the man. The woman's still weak." He looked in the back. "We should drive away from here before we feed them."

  So the food was for both of us. Xavier, obviously, but it was also indirectly for me. He was trying to do a better job of providing for me.

  "Thanks," I said, as much as I hated the thought of having to bite the man as well. I wasn't
hungry now, but I might be again tomorrow night with the way I was fighting and running from the authorities. I was disturbed by how routine it was becoming.

  I drove us out of the town and down a dirt road that was a lot like the one the bunker was down. Weeds slapped at the van as we drew closer to a lake that was sparkling in the starlight. I stopped on a small sandy beach and the fresh air here was amazing. I hadn't realized how much pollution I was smelling before leaving Cumberland.

  Behind me, the woman groaned. She needed to eat.

  "Xavier," I said. "Maybe you should feed the two of them. I'll wait by the doors while they eat."

  He was already wolfing down a Big Mac. My battle partner had thrown all caution to the wind now that I had already bitten someone tonight. After our scrape at the movie theater, he wasn't trying to starve himself anymore. It gave me hope not just in his health and fighting ability, but in us as well.

  Maybe.

  "This is good," he said. "I know I shouldn't be eating all this junk food, but--"

  "You burn all the calories," I said. "It's not like you're going to get fat." Now that I thought of it, I had never seen an overweight War Mage.

  "It's still not good for me."

  "You still need to eat. I'm glad you are."

  "Well, you just fed," Xavier said. "If we work together, neither one of us will have to starve."

  "Again, I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. It's Thoreau's fault, not yours."

  "Then why do you look at me like I'm some kind of horrible monster?"

  There. I blurted it out and waited for a shocked Xavier to answer.

  "I'm not looking at you like you're a monster," he said. "It's just...sometimes there's blood involved, you know?"

  "Of course there is," I said. "I kind of need it."

  "And that's not your fault." Xavier looked out the window as he chewed and then he reached for a fry.

  I had the feeling there was something he wasn't telling me. How many more secrets could he hold?

  Or maybe he knew something about me that I didn't.

  "What do you think the final two pieces in me are?" I asked. "The ones Thoreau wants to wake up?"