Adrastia (The God Chronicles Book 4)

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Adrastia (The God Chronicles Book 4) Page 4

by Kamery Solomon


  "So, you hide in the sandstorm," I said, taking a step toward them, watching for any signs of them fleeing. "Pretty smart if you ask me."

  "We do not hide," the blind sister on the right said. "We see all. Why hide from that we can not change? We saw you coming. Hiding would not have kept you from us."

  "At least we're agreed on that," I retorted sarcastically, still inching forward.

  "The spell for the empuse," the middle sister said, her long gray hair shining in the candle light. "It was given as a token of appreciation, for completing something we needed help with. You need not worry that our power will fall into the hands of a Titan."

  "Why should I trust you?" I asked, stopping right in front of them. "Three old women, hiding in the desert, keeping the future of this war to themselves when they could offer help and end it now."

  "We only see the future, we can not change it," the sister with the eye hissed. "There is no help we could offer that would end things now."

  "And what if someone else does you a favor, say a Titan? Are you going to help them out, too, no problem?" I continued, feeling my anger at them grow. "What about me? What favor can I do for you?"

  My voice grew into a shout as I spoke, roaring in the tiny space, and yet they did not flinch. They knew exactly what I was going to do, how this confrontation was going to end. I only had one glimmer of hope.

  They couldn't change the future, but I possibly could. Every decision I could make right now might lead to a different one. While they could see all of them, I was the only one that could pick which would be true.

  In a flash movement, I shot forward, towards the sister with the sight, and she screamed as my flesh met with hers, tearing at her sensitive socket and ripping the slimy eye from her.

  She collapsed over on the floor, holding her face as cries of agony ripped from her throat. Her sisters cried with her, withering under my ferocious stare.

  "All I need is your eye," I shouted over them. "Without it you have no power. You will be stuck here, blind, for the rest of time. No seeing the future and literally no sight, the very two things you crave. That's better than any other punishment I could give you."

  Their screeches increased in strength and I smiled grimly, relieved I'd managed to grab their weakness and keep it.

  As they sobbed, the smartly designed maze began to fall down around them, the facade of the attic falling away to that of the sand filled, abandoned house I'd first entered. My camel was hunkered down by the door, waiting for me. It seemed the storm was still going outside, but had calmed down considerably.

  Turning away from my beaten foes, I gripped the eye in my hand and moved to stow it in my bag.

  I only made it a few steps before hands gripped me around my waist, arms, and neck.

  "Cristos, Son of Zeus," one of the Graeae roared out, her voice no longer that of an old woman but of a terrifying beast. "Your actions this day have chosen your fate."

  Her fingers gripped around my neck, hitting pressure points that made me feel dizzy and weak, causing my knees to buckle beneath me, burying themselves in the grainy sand.

  "No matter what you do, no matter how you try to change your path, you will only lead yourself to this fate," the one who'd grabbed my waist continued, their minds joining together in their prophecy. She, too, attacked points on my thighs and hips, adding to the pain I was already feeling.

  "Before the end of The Purge, you will join with the demi-Titan to betray your father and be cast into Tartarus."

  The last sister's words rang in my ears like an alarm, a death sentence dropped on my unsuspecting and unbelieving mind. Her fingers tightened around my wrists, the nails biting into the soft flesh there, drawing blood until I cried out and dropped the eye.

  "Take it back," I gasped as they released me, pushing me forward.

  "We can not. The future is chosen. You have done this to yourself."

  "Take it back," I growled, pushing up from the sand and turning to glare at them.

  "We can not."

  "I will die before I do anything you just said," I spat at them, anger and fear boiling inside me.

  The sand began blowing around us, swirling hard and fast as if it were what I'd been caught in outside. The Graeae slowly faded away into it, their bodies flickering like a static picture.

  "Before the end of The Purge, you will join with the demi-Titan to betray your father and be cast into Tartarus," their voices said together, fading away on the wind.

  Chapter Five

  Avalon

  The cold bit at my cheeks as I clapped my hands together, trying to retain what little feeling I still had beneath my thick gloves.

  Of course, I was born right as the end of the world began. Well, I was if you wanted to be cynical about everything, I guess. Sometimes I preferred to think of it as a new time on Earth. World War Three. Except, it wasn't technically being called that yet. We all knew that's where the fighting was heading, though.

  Snow fell softly around me, lightly dusting the already covered streets of Moscow. There were days, weeks, even months every now and then when it would warm up, but it never stayed that way for long. Scientists kept saying that eventually it would stop warming up at all and everything would ice over, officially launching us into the next Ice Age. They also said global warming was the cause of it all.

  I didn't really believe them on either count.

  Finally, my ride came around the corner at the end of the street and I sighed in relief. If I'd had to stay outside any longer I felt like I was going to turn into a human ice cube.

  "Sorry I'm late," my partner, Dmitri, said as I scurried into my seat. "I got caught up watching the news again."

  "How bad is it?" I asked, worry lacing my voice.

  "It's not any better, that's for sure," he mumbled.

  We pulled away from the bus stop I'd been waiting at and started down the road, heading towards the disaster shelter we'd been working at for the past six months.

  The entire planet was fighting with each other, fear fueling leaders to do things no one should ever even have to consider. Every day I woke up, I was grateful North Korea had decided to not drop a nuclear bomb on someone. Other bombs I could handle. I could still help the people who had been attacked by the other bombs.

  Then there was Ukraine and Russia, constantly getting into squabbles over land and resources. It was a good day when no one threatened to destroy the other. Even with the governments holding off on mass destruction, the people fought against each other brutally.

  Back home in the United States, they were fending off problems with Mexico. Even Canada had something to be upset about for some reason. It was like everyone was suddenly terrified of everyone else.

  And here I was, Avalon Gemmings, far from home, doing my best to just keep my head straight about all of it.

  My dad had been in the military. According to my mom, he'd been lost in the first of the fighting in Afghanistan, just after I was born. It was because of him I'd decided to go to medical school, so I could help those in need.

  I worked hard on my education, graduating high school a year early. Things had steadily gotten worse around the world during that time, making me even more eager to get through college.

  At seventeen, I started my pre-med degree, finishing in a year and a half. I only made it two more years down the path to doctor before the bad fighting broke out, though. People needed help and there was no more time left for me to finish what I'd set out to do. It was hard, but I left school and joined the American Red Cross. In a matter of weeks, I'd been told I was going overseas and found myself here, working in a shelter for those who had been caught in the unsanctioned fighting between citizens.

  "Where was the attack today?" I asked Dmitri, keeping my eyes on the passing structures outside. "Was it close?"

  "A couple kilometers from the check point on the east side of the city," he said, his thick, Russian accent not masking any of the worry he was obviously feeling. "I don't think
it will be much longer."

  "You really think they'll attack the city?" I asked in surprise. "This is their own country! Why would they attack their own people?"

  "They are angry with the government," he sighed. "They want them to take action, to go and rescue the Russians trapped in Ukraine, to show the world we are a force to be reckoned with. Every day that passes and our leaders do nothing, the more frightened and angry the people become."

  "Sounds a lot like back home," I muttered, pulling one of my gloves off and running my hand through my hair.

  "What's wrong?" he asked, concern for me filling his voice. "You always do that when you're worried or frustrated. Has something happened back home?"

  "No," I said, pulling the glove back on, trying to fight back my anger and frustration. "Actually, yes. I've been here, what, six months? And the whole time I was at home, no one ever bothered my mom and me. But now that I'm gone, someone's got it in their head they can break into our house! Thank heavens Mom was out for the night. She said almost everything was ruined."

  "Did she lose a lot?"

  "That's the frustrating part! She said absolutely nothing was taken. Everything got turned upside down, like they were looking for something, but it was all still there when she got home. There's some nice stuff in that house, too."

  "That does sound strange," he agreed, frowning as he continued to drive towards our destination. "Did she say if anything else odd had happened before or after that?"

  "I don't think so," I said, shaking my head. "Someone called asking for my dad a few weeks ago, but that's it. She had to tell them he'd been dead for more than twenty years."

  He stayed silent for a moment, thinking about something, before we finally pulled up to the parking lot of our destination.

  "I'm very sorry," he said, pulling into a spot and cutting off the engine. "It's terrible to not feel safe in your own home."

  I looked at him, surprised he'd picked up on what I was feeling. It seemed silly, to be afraid of staying there when I was so obviously on the other side of the world and away from whoever had broken in. There was just something about knowing the walls that'd kept me safe for all those years weren't impenetrable. I'd always know they weren't, but still.

  "Thank you," I said, smiling at him.

  He returned the gesture, his white teeth shining out at me.

  "We'd better get going," he finally laughed after what felt like a long pause of us just staring at each other. "There's probably people to stitch up after the attack."

  "Right," I giggled, stopping as soon as I heard the sound coming from me.

  Did I really just giggle? What was that about?

  I swallowed nervously, eyes widening as I got out of the car and followed him inside the old school house we were set up in.

  Do I have a crush on Dimitri? I suddenly wondered to myself.

  It wouldn't be surprising. I'd seen the way other women looked at him. A well-muscled body and kind spirit weren't in very high demand around here, at least not together. Dimitri was a rare gem in an ocean of turmoil. More than once, I'd found him consoling a child or helping another worker with their cases. We were partners during my time here, but that didn't stop him from aiding all those he could find in want of something.

  Watching him sign in at the table in front of us, I smiled to myself. His short blonde hair was always messy, probably from that ridiculously large, fur hat he wore until he was inside. I knew that under his heavy coat he would be wearing scrubs, along with the name tag that identified him as a nurse. Secretly, I hoped they were the black ones, because they were the most form fitting.

  It wouldn't be so bad if I did have a crush on him. At least I thought so.

  "Avalon?"

  His voice broke through my thoughts and I suddenly realized I'd been staring at him this whole time without noticing he'd turned around and was trying to talk to me.

  "Sorry," I said, blushing. "What was that?"

  "There's a couple of kids that got caught in the attack today," he said.

  Was I imagining he seemed to know exactly what I'd been thinking about?

  "Right," I said gruffly, pushing the fluffy thoughts from my head. "Let's get to work then."

  I passed him and signed in at the table, too, letting him lead the way as soon as I was done.

  Because I'd never finished my doctorates degree, I couldn't work as a doctor. However, it had been determined I knew enough to do the work of one, if need be. Officially, I was working as Dimitri's assistant. We were paired together partially because The Red Cross wanted teams of both nationalities. He was also the only one who agreed to let me do things I wasn't technically licensed for. Together, we could do everything right up to surgery.

  "How did the kids get out of there?" I asked as we hurried down the hall, rubbing sanitizer on our hands and grabbing gloves out of the several boxes sitting everywhere.

  "Some guy pulled them out," he said, pulling a cart loaded with bandages and other supplies from against the wall and bringing it with us.

  "Russian?" I questioned, curiosity getting the better of me.

  "No."

  "There were Ukrainians this far north and they weren't doing the fighting?" I inquired in surprise.

  "No," he chuckled, his own surprise sounding through it. "He's Italian."

  "Italian?" My eyebrows felt like they'd raised almost into my hairline. "What on earth is he doing here? Surely he knows not to come on vacation with the way things are. And I thought Russia had burned every bridge that ever existed with Italy."

  "I have no idea," Dimitri said, shrugging. "You can ask him yourself, though. He got a pretty nasty wound and is waiting in the same area the kids are."

  "Okay," I sighed. "Are there more coming in who were part of the actual attack?"

  "Some are already here," he said, nodding off in another direction. "We're to get down there as soon as we're done with this."

  "We better get moving then," I said, a large grin overtaking my face.

  We rounded the corner and entered into one of the classrooms, maneuvering around the paper curtain screens that had been set up to maintain some semblance of privacy.

  "I'll take care of the kids while you help the Italian," Dimitri said, motioning to the other side of the room.

  I crossed the space, moving the thin shoji screen and pulling it shut behind me once I was on the other side.

  "Okay," I said, turning around and smiling at the man standing next the chair.

  He smiled in return, his white teeth helping to accentuate his tan skin. A handsome face was framed by chin length black hair. While he wore a simple outfit, jeans and a long sleeve shirt, I could tell he worked out often. It wasn't surprising he'd been able to pull off saving two children from a fire fight.

  "Can you tell me what happened, Mr. . . ."

  "Arsenio," he said warmly, standing up and bowing his head to me. "I was walking down the road, saw the fighting and the kids hiding in the trees. I did what anyone else would have done and got them out of there."

  "Was anyone shot?" I asked, motioning for him to sit down so I could examine him.

  "Just me," he laughed. "But they were pretty scratched up. I think the little one probably got grazed."

  "Well, you're a hero, Mr. Arsenio," I said, gently touching around the hole in his right shoulder.

  "Just Arsenio," he said, wincing as I began examining the actual punctured area.

  "You're from Italy?" I asked, trying to get his mind off the pain.

  "Yeah. I haven't spent a lot of time there."

  "I was going to say you don't have much of an accent. Excuse me for a second."

  Turning back around, I slipped onto the other side of the screen and grabbed up what I would need from the cart Dimitri had brought in.

  "Lucky for you, the bullet went straight through," I said once I was back with Arsenio. "Digging it out would have been very painful since I don't have any of the good drugs."

  "Great," he laughed, w
incing slightly as his shoulder moved.

  "However," I continued. "You're still going to be in a lot of pain. I'm going to clean it out and pack it the best I can from both sides. Once that's done, I'll wrap it as good as we can get it. That should hold you until you can get clearance to be moved into the hospital further in the city."

  "Thanks," he said, his comforting grin surfacing again.

  "I was able to look at it with your shirt on because it got ripped pretty good, but I'm going to have to cut it now. I'll try and keep it to where you can still wear it, so you don't freeze to death when they move you."

  I set to work laying everything out, making sure to keep things that were sterilized in their wrappers until I was ready for them. Finally, I pulled my old gloves off, applying more hand sanitizer before donning another pair.

  "What's your name?" he asked as I picked up the scissors and started working on cutting just the shoulder and sleeve out of his shirt.

  "Avalon," I said, doing my best to not make him uncomfortable as I worked.

  "That's pretty," he said, doing a good job of hiding any discomfort he was feeling.

  "Are you traveling alone?" I asked, finishing the task and setting to work on sterilizing his wound.

  "No," he grunted as I poured some liquid over the opening on both sides. "I'm with a friend."

  "Is he here, too?"

  "No. He was already in the city. Probably wondering where I am about now."

  He laughed weakly, his knuckles turning white as his hands balled into fists.

  "I'm sorry," I apologized. "I'm trying to be as quick as I can. I would have offered you pain meds, but all I have is some extra strength Tylenol. We've been getting wiped out with all of the fighting."

  He remained silent, staring at one spot on the floor as I worked. It was probably how he was managing his pain. I was sure getting shot had hurt much worse than this, but it'd only lasted for a few seconds, if that.

  "Where do you spend your time?" I asked, trying to distract him again.

  "Huh?"

  "You said you didn't spend much time in Italy. Where do you spend it?"

 

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