by Mason Dakota
I needed her alive as much as I needed to escape.
“Shaman! You’re outgunned. Resist and likely one of your friends will die here tonight. The odds are not in your favor. We both know I will show no mercy for them if they get in my way. But if you surrender now I promise to spare their lives,” Alexandra shouted.
Flee and risk the lives of my friends or surrender and save them?
I picked the worst place to stop and think. Out of nowhere one of Alexandra’s mobsters stepped around the corner. His gun was already raised and aimed directly at my chest while my own weapon pointed down at the ground. Alexandra was right; the odds were not in our favor.
Except she hadn’t considered Thomas.
The mobster fired his automatic weapon and sent a spray of bullets directly at me. But Thomas was quicker than the man’s trigger finger. He grabbed me and yank me back around the corner just in time. I felt bullets strike my duster, cutting new holes into the material, and hit my Kevlar vest. It felt like sledgehammers struck my ribs. I stumbled and collapsed, the wind knocked out of me.
The mobster continued to fire, filling the service tunnels with a painful screech and ripping apart the corner wall with a hail of bullets. Sheetrock and stone shattered and flew through the air. Evelyn dove to the ground next to me and I crawled forward, still struggling to regain breath as I covered her with my own body. I didn’t know where Thomas was and I feared the worst. The bullets continued; the shooter came closer and closer to our position. Finally, my breathing returned and as oxygen came back to my lungs, I released a panicked scream.
Suddenly the shooting stopped and silence filled the tunnel. A hand grabbed my shoulder and I spun, drawing my revolver up and into the face of my opponent. It was Thomas. He didn’t seem fazed by the gun in his face as he whispered, “I took out the mobster. We need to keep moving.” He said it so calmly as though he were telling me he’d taken out the trash or dinner was ready.
An unconscious mobster was lying on the floor with several tranquilizer darts protruding from his chest. The man let out a snore and I couldn’t help but laugh. I slapped Thomas on the shoulder and said, “I am so glad you’re on our side.”
Thomas, beneath the ski mask, beamed a smile, shrugged and said, “Eh, it wasn’t much. I have a good teacher.”
“Don’t be modest. It’s never much fun.” Then I lifted my chin and shouted out, “I’m liking our odds more, Alex! Maybe you should reconsider this game!”
The growl in her throat at my using the nickname she hated was our first warning that she was close behind us. Evelyn’s muffled gasp was the second. Thomas and I spun around, guns raised to see Alexandra and the last remaining mobster a few feet behind us. Evelyn was trapped in the mobster’s clutch as he pressed her pistol against the side of her head. Alexandra stood beside them and pointed her own pistol straight at me.
“I enjoy the game too much to stop now” cooed Alexandra.
“If you harm her—”
“Very plausible though unwanted,” interrupted Alexandra. I didn’t say anything but gritted my teeth as I looked from Alexandra to Evelyn and back again. I never lowered my revolver from Alexandra. “Put the weapons down boys or I have my man here shoot this pretty Outcast.”
“Nobody has to die here tonight,” I said in the calmest tone I could muster.
“Plenty have died tonight. One more won’t changed what’s happened,” said Alexandra, “Now put down the weapons.”
“A trade then? You let Ms. Chambers go and you take me in exchange.”
Alexandra looked between Evelyn and me and saw something in Evelyn’s face that made her chuckle. “Oh I cannot believe this. There’s something between the two of you, isn’t there? A history? You know who he really is, don’t you, dearie?” Evelyn looked away from Alexandra’s stare. It was all the answer Alexandra needed and she chuckled some more.
“Alexandra!” I barked, “Do we have a deal?”
“Oh my dear girl, you should know how foolish it is to love a man like Shaman. Sure he is wild and exciting, but he will never choose you over himself. His selfishness can’t be trusted.”
“Thankfully, he doesn’t have to prove you wrong,” said a voice behind her. Gabriel emerged from the shadows behind Alexandra. Nobody knew he was there. He moved like lightning. Alexandra turned toward him, gun raised, but in a flash of movement he disarmed her and struck her so hard that she stumbled back toward us. The mobster moved but once more Gabriel was quicker, moving in close to strike several quick blows to the mobster’s gut. The mobster released Evelyn, trying to get his gun around to shoot Gabriel, but Thomas shot two darts into the man’s neck and he collapsed unconscious.
As Alexandra stumbled back, she fumbled for her other sidearm. I crossed the distance between Alexandra and me in a short bound. I grabbed her arm and threw my knee into her back. My momentum propelled us both forward and into the wall. Alexandra recovered quickly and threw her leg backward in a kick to my groin. Learning from one kick to the groin tonight, I side stepped the blow and she used the space to twist free from my grasp. I expected that move was coming and struck the butt of my pistol across her cheek.
Before she could retaliate I kicked her and she slammed back into the wall. Slumping to the ground, she looked up at me, her lip cut and bleeding in one corner and her hair now a tangled mess. I was amazed at how I once thought her to be one of the most beautiful humans I had ever seen. The hate and fire in her eyes neutralized any lust I felt. I gritted my teeth and growled, “I warned you, Alexandra.” She fell unconscious after the next strike with my revolver.
I looked back to see Gabriel, Thomas, and Evelyn watching me. I sighed. “I think it’s time we all went home for the night.”
Thirty-One
Once we reached the surface we all quickly departed. Gabriel returned to whatever hiding hole he had emerged from. Before that he had kissed Evelyn on the cheek, made small talk about how great it was to see her again and how happy he was that she was safe.
He communicated privately to Thomas and me that he had lost Raven and my father. After several minutes of running blindly through tunnels with no hope of finding them, he circled back around until he found us.
We failed our mission and my father—or someone Gabriel claimed was my father—now knew Shaman and Gabriel were on his tail. Gabriel feared our enemy would retaliate against Shaman. That was the goodbye he left us with.
As a silent protector, Thomas remained with Evelyn and me until we drew closer to her motel. None of us said a word and only Thomas seemed comfortable with the silence as we traveled through the night. He too slipped away without a goodbye. Evelyn entered her third floor motel room as she normally would, and I climbed up the side of the building and slipped into her room through her back window.
I waited until she had moved into the room, locked the door, and closed the curtains before I accused, “What were you thinking tonight?”
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“You shouldn’t have been down there.”
“And you should have been?”
“Yes! It was my job.”
“And I was doing my job.” Her tone wasn’t nearly as loud as my own but that didn’t mean she wasn’t just as angry. I growled, ripped off my mask and threw it on the nearest table.
“Your job is going to get a lot of good people killed if you don’t call this off!”
“You know I can’t. You try refusing the Emperor. I’m an Outcast and he’s the most powerful Noble in existence. He could execute me for treason for refusing his request! That’s why I need you to abandon that mask. If someone spots you working in the mask, and I’m not seen trying to stop you, I’ll be executed.”
I sighed and grumbled, “I know. And I promise I will do everything I can to change that. Somehow. But I have no choice in the matter.”
“You always have a choice. Lose the mask and then we can both leave these lives behind us.”
“I can’t do that when innocent lives a
re at risk. And I can’t save them when you’re getting in my way or I am worried that you’ll get caught in the crossfire.”
“I can take care of myself just fine without you.”
“Yes I know. That’s not what I…” I sighed in frustration, rubbed my forehead, and lowered my eyes before continuing, “It’s getting more dangerous out there. Someone is seeking to unleash a dangerous virus to infect Nobles. The Sabols are increasing their attacks. The Emperor, who wants me dead, is heading here. And now the most dangerous woman in Chicago knows we share a connection and will no doubt come after you.”
Evelyn’s face grew paler and softer. She stepped a bit closer. Her tendency to nurture the hurting drove her to show compassion. She said, “This is not a burden you have to carry alone and certainly not a burden that you have to carry at all. We can leave—tonight—and forget about Shaman and everything else.”
“Then people will die and I will be responsible. I owe this city too much to leave it now. I made a vow when I took this mask, and until someone else is fit to be Shaman I’ve got to stay and protect this city.”
Evelyn stepped close and pressed her hand on my chest. I took her hand in my own and whispered, “I must continue. And you must continue. Night after night until either I am dead or you have succeeded. This is our life now, and there’s no changing that. It is what must be done to save not only Chicago…but you as well.”
Her eyes watered and she whispered, “Griffon…do you still love me?”
Tears clouded my vision. My mouth became dry and I felt so weary, but I swallowed my pride and my arrogance and whispered, “You left me because I desired a dream more than I desired you. I was selfish and a fool. If I could go back I would change that, but we are prisoners to the paths we chose. I can’t afford to be a fool now. I cannot do that and I cannot give you what you want.”
My words cut her. It was evident from her expression. But Evelyn was good at giving the appearance of strength and she steeled herself once again, moving away from me, nodding her head as she said, “Then I will give you, Shaman, the benefit of having the rest of the night to recover and rest. And I hope to see the man I love tomorrow.”
“Good night Evelyn.”
Once again a flicker of compassion softened her face as she whispered, “Goodnight Griffon.” I covered my face once again with my mask. “And goodnight Shaman.” I didn’t reply. My heart was lost and all that was left for me now was to leave and take my self-hatred with me.
Thirty-Two
I didn’t return home after saying goodbye to Evelyn. Dawn was soon approaching but I ignored the temptation to rest. My body and mind screamed for a warm mattresses, but my soul was restless.
I returned to the hideout, changed back into my street clothes and walked the dark streets in hopes of clearing my head. I found myself outside the church where Chamberlain and Alison would be married later that day. Even though the sun wasn’t up, the doors were unlocked. I quietly slipped inside and rested in a pew in the back.
White ribbons hung from every pew. Flowers sat around the stage and filled the room with their scents. A long silk carpet stretched down the church’s center aisle for the guests to walk upon. A unity candle stand sat center stage. All of it would be beautiful in the light of day, but in the gray darkness and moonlight, an eerie feeling grasped my soul as everything took on a different shape and feeling.
Not all that rests in the dark is evil. Real hope lingered there in that reverent place. I didn’t fully realize until right then just how badly I needed hope.
My enemies were too many, and too strong. I was breaking the heart of a woman who loved me. And I was choosing once again to trust a liar who broke me once already.
What if I am just being manipulated again?
I said I believed Gabriel, in the limitations of the threat against this city. But was that man really my father tonight? Did I say I believed Gabriel’s claim just to keep the peace? Believing him would mean accepting my past to be a lie. Twenty years flushed down the drain. Was I really ready to submit again to the puppet master? Gabriel’s lies brought me once to my knees where I reinvented myself. Was I risking that again? Did I have the strength to recover?
Do I trust too easily?
I proved it, right? Not only did I choose to trust Gabriel, but I trusted Lorre, who wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me the moment he didn’t need me anymore. We are enemies. Circumstances hadn’t changed that. It would never change. Once we no longer needed each other he would kill me.
His life was about maintaining the system of Noble superiority, of justice in the eyes of Nobles—not humanity as a whole. The minute our goals no longer aligned I become his enemy again. I killed his partner, was responsible for the death of his family, and that could never be forgotten.
Will this fight ever end?
Is there ever hope for peace between our species? Are we destined for nothing more than war or slavery between our peoples? Nobles kill Outcasts and Outcasts kill Nobles and no balance of peace exists in sight. Their people conquer and enslave mine, so mine kill from shadows and secrecy. It is the secret shadow war of our world. The Nobles pretend peace exists as they turn blind eyes to the war I see every day in the Stinks. But the war comes now to their doorsteps, and unless I stop it genocide will rule the day.
“In my professional experience, people who find themselves here are either up to no good or are looking for something good. Since I see no spray cans, may I safely assume you’re here for the second?” asked a voice behind me. I whirled around in my pew to find the pastor staring down at me.
He was a Noble. Dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans, he leaned on a broom. He had short, thick brown hair with a faint pattern of red and brown stubble across his chin. He stood taller than me, even taller than Chamberlain, and nearly as thin as the broom he held. I recognized him as the minister from the few times Chamberlain had dragged me into the church. I always resisted, insisting I wouldn’t attend a Noble church to hear Noble praises of glory, but this man had always been kind to me and Chamberlain. For the life of me I couldn’t place the man’s name. His question unnerved me. “And which excuse brings the minister here at this time of night?”
He snickered. “Neither. I get paid to be here. Plus I like keeping folks like you company.”
“Folks like me?” I asked.
“I think you know what I mean.”
“Do you really get a lot of guests at these hours?”
“You would be surprised. People come here all hours of the day looking for something. Some for hope, some for answers, others just a place to escape the mess of their lives.” He rested the broom against the side of a pew and settled himself against the side of another, crossed his arms and said, “My name’s Sig.”
“Just Sig? No last name?” He nodded. “So that means…”
“That I am from the Northern Territories? Yup. I believe you Imperials call us Giants.”
I looked him up and down and said, “You can’t blame us for calling you that.”
He chuckled. It helped to ease some of the tension I felt. The Giants were sworn enemies of the Imperials. Stories said they were barbaric savages that kill their own families to take what they want. Rigs was a Giant and he sure fit that testimony. But Sig seemed different, a kindness to him. “Why do your people not use last names?” I asked.
Sig shrugged. “We keep our names short. Last names come with heritage and expectations and entitlement. When an Imperial is born, they are born with something already to their name based on what family they are born into. Our people believe every man and woman leaves this world with what they enter it with, nothing more than the bare skin on their butts and they are responsible for making something of themselves in between. They believe nothing is ever handed to us except what we take for ourselves. Makes for an aggressive society. Probably why you’re so afraid right now.” There’s a twinkle of mischievous insight in his eyes.
I swallow and say, “No, I’m not afraid.”
Sig laughs. “Relax, I’m not like the rest of my people.”
Like Rigs?
“What is nice about our society is that we don’t have the same class system. You Imperials are all about your classifications between Nobles and Outcasts. Here you are separated between either Noble or Outcast, but there, in my country, those genetic barriers don’t really matter so much.”
“Because those with the might get to rule?” I ask.
Sig shrugs in approval.
“Why did you leave?” I asked.
“I’m not sure you’ve heard, but it’s not safe to live under a government of warlords killing each other for a profit. The whole territory is a wasteland and a very dangerous place to raise a family. About ten years ago my wife and I immigrated here with our new-born girl and we planted this church.”
“But you don’t look like a…” I struggled to find the courage to say the word.
“A barbarian?” Sig answer for me with a wink. “What gave it away? The lack of pelts and armor, or the fact I left my axe in my office.” I ducked my head in embarrassment. He chuckled. “Some of us are civilized. Some.”
He then leaned closer to me and said, “Now that I’ve told you my story…why don’t you tell me yours. Let’s start with your name.”
“I’m…Griffon Nightlock,” I said.
Sig’s eyes perked up and he said, “The groom’s best man! And the famous politician! I’m honored to finally meet you. It’s been a very long time since a politician entered this place—even longer since one has sought its quiet solace.”
“Is it bad that I came?”
He shook his head and said, “It’s bad that not more in your position come. It is likely the best thing you could have done tonight.”
If you only knew.
As if he could read my thoughts, Sig asked, “If you don’t mind me asking…what brings you to this humble place on a night like tonight?”