Night Shadows (Children of Nostradamus Book 2)

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Night Shadows (Children of Nostradamus Book 2) Page 11

by Jeremy Flagg


  She lifted the girl’s body, enough that she rested on her lap. The blood around her wounds was still wet. Jasmine estimated she had died within the hour. Alone.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  Jasmine felt the weight press down on her body, the guilt of pushing Rebecca away from her home. Her fault or not, she had been the instrument that set the girl’s fate into motion. Behind her decision, she thought about the man who made the commands. She had been acting under orders. Only one man gave those to the Paladins.

  She sensed the two men closing in on her. “Stop!” she screamed.

  The space got brighter as Dwayne used his electricity to generate light. Even with the faint glow, Rebecca’s features showed more prominently. The girl was flushed, and her lips had already started to fade. The terrified girl from a year ago had grown up. She didn’t look terrified now. Her features were a bit harder, and Jasmine believed that Rebecca had made something of herself in that short time. Perhaps she worked with Twenty-Seven protecting others, perhaps she cared for the wounded, perhaps she infiltrated locations saving Children. Jasmine took solace in the narrative she created.

  She picked up the girl, cradling her in both arms. She let the metal of her cuffs help transform her skin again. The pain rushed through her body, forcing out a small scream. As her epidermis mutated and turned dense, the sensation of the girl’s skin grew distant. She had felt enough for today.

  Conthan had taken off his coat and hoodie, which he laid across the girl. Neither of the men said anything as Jasmine walked back into town. By the time she reached the cement pathway, the tears ceased. By the pavement of the road, rage replaced her sadness. By the alley, she plotted how good it would feel to push her thumbs into the eyes of the man responsible for this.

  ***

  Vanessa’s fingers latched onto the second story windowsill. Her muscles flexed, launching her upward to the third story and had her holding onto the edge of the flat roof. She pulled herself over the ledge and inspected Troy from her vantage point. The town wasn’t large, and from here, she could see the majority of the downtown area with only a few buildings standing taller.

  The only whispers inside her head came from her own comrades. While the buildings remained more or less intact, the solitude reminded her of Boston. She hoped Twenty-Seven survived. It bothered her more than she cared to admit that somebody found a way to shield themselves from her telepathy. There was a certain security in being able to read a person; relying on faith and trust were not things she typically had to worry about.

  Her chest heaved as she inspected the rooftop. Other than an access door and a few vents, it stood bare. Her feet picked up speed as she prepared to launch herself upward. As she passed the access door, she felt a sting on her arm before she caught a glimpse of a man holding a knife. The back of her wing launched outward, knocking him back.

  Her toes dug into the roof, scraping until she skidded to a halt. The gash on her arm stung, blood already starting to drip from the wound. She eyed the man in the shadow. There were no thoughts. He shielded himself from her. She had to wonder if the government found a way to protect themselves from telepaths.

  “Who are you?”

  The figure picked himself off the ground and stepped forward. The light from the street barely reached the rooftop, but just enough did for her to make out the trademark smile. She recognized the man from the Warden’s office. The smile pulled too far back on each cheek terrified her. Like before, there were no thoughts, just a vacant eyes staring off into the distance. She tried to listen to the man’s inner dialogue, but there was nothing, more than nothing, it almost appeared as if there was a void.

  “Oh shit,” she said as she let her abilities cast out wide and found a dozen more of the blank spaces nearby. Before she could warn the others, a single image seared its way through her mind. The face of a young girl being held in Jasmine’s arms. The woman’s grief overwhelmed her, almost crippling her physically.

  The man rushed at Vanessa. She flailed to keep him at bay while Jasmine’s cries made it difficult to focus. The stinging from her forearm brought her back, anchoring her in the moment. She managed to push away Jasmine’s grief. The assailant brought his knife hand out wide. She snatched him by the wrist, pivoting his arm, and punched with her other hand, breaking his elbow.

  No screaming, mentally or physically. The man didn’t react to the broken bone. His other hand aimed for her windpipe. She reached for his arm. He ducked low, sweeping her feet out from under her. She hit the roof with a loud thud, and he was on her, his knees attempting to pin her arms at her sides.

  “What are you?”

  The man reached for the razor several feet away. As he leaned to one side, she lifted him and rolled him onto the ground. She was on him in an instant, her legs pinning him. She reached down and clutched his neck, threatening to squeeze until it tore from his spine. There was nothing in him, no pain, no fear, an empty vessel with a single goal.

  While he tried to wiggle free, she pushed at the man’s mind. It was as if something pushed back. She had a moment to wonder if he might be a telepath. She pushed harder. Bit by bit, his defenses crumbled and she found herself slipping into his mind. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Hollow, with only a single thought bouncing around his head. Even the most basic thoughts about food, love, or even survival were absent. The man had been stripped of everything except a single command.

  She burrowed deeper into his mind, looking for the source of the tampering. She found a barricade pushing back against her intrusions. With time, she was sure she could break through and sift through the damage done to the man. For now, a single entity consumed his thoughts, “the Society.” She retreated from his mind. The man would never be a human again. She grabbed the sides of his head and spun his skull, snapping his neck.

  “May God have mercy on your soul.”

  Be on the lookout for men. Capable of fighting close combat.

  She ran to the edge of the roof and pushed off with every muscle. She launched into the air another ten feet and as she reached her peak, her wings spread out, catching a soft breeze. Once upon a time she had wished they were strong enough to and carry her like a bird. It took time to find pleasure in being able to drift among the birds even if she couldn’t fly.

  Below, Alyssa and Skits walked with Dav5d between them. A man came out of the shadows, crashing into Alyssa. Most people required a mental push to block a blow, or at least a suggestion to knock away a knife, but not Alyssa. Her limbs reacted on their own, grappling the man’s weapon hand and spinning him over her shoulder. As he soared above her, he pivoted his hips, landing on his feet. He brought up his knee but she had already stepped out of reach. She knocked his hand away again and brought up her boot, kicking him in the face hard enough to send him to the ground.

  I can’t detect them. They’re invisible to me.

  “Well, shit,” Skits said both aloud and in her mind.

  Three of them emerged, stepping out of the doorway to a Mexican restaurant. Vanessa assumed they were on the hunt for any remaining survivors. A hint of pain struck her as Skits ignited the air about her arms. Two more appeared and another awaited on a roof nearby. Vanessa was starting to think the hollow men stood a chance simply by sheer numbers.

  The man on the roof lifted a rifle and pointed it to the group below. Vanessa’s wings pulled in close to her body, quickening her descent. He lowered his eye to the scope, and her three comrades below had yet to spot him. Warning them didn’t guarantee they’d react fast enough.

  Her wings went wide, catching the breeze and almost halting her body in midair. As the jolt pulled her back, she imagined her thoughts flying forward. She squinted, her yellow eyes focusing on the man on the roof. She felt resistance as her mind slammed into his. Her thoughts were fueled by the need to save her friends. A quiet rage seeped into her thinking, battering the invisible wall guarding his mind. She almost heard the shattering as she penetrated hi
s mental defenses. A moment later his eyes became hers and she stared down the scope, the crosshairs focused on Dav5d’s forehead.

  Kill them.

  The echo of a command implanted in the man’s head licked at her thoughts. She almost laughed. The telepath who had left the message was incredibly weak in comparison. The gun moved until the sight focused on one of the attacker’s chests. The trigger eased back. She zeroed in on a target, a clear shot on his forehead. Another trigger pull. The need to climb onto the ledge pushed the man on top of the wall circling the roof. She let her mind drift back as the man took another step, sending him off the second story of the building.

  Seconds passed while she manipulated the assailants. Skits removed the legs of one of the men while Alyssa grappled with the remaining hollow man. She tossed him to the ground in a flip over the shoulder. As he worked his way to a standing position, Vanessa slammed her feet into the man, sending her momentum into the blow, hurling him thirty feet down the road. With the last flap of her wings, she touched down.

  “Who are they?” asked Alyssa.

  “They’re not real people. They’re hollow, vessels for a telepath to control. There’s a mentalist behind this.”

  “The Warden?”

  Vanessa shook her head. “No, whoever this is, they’re weak. They can only control people who are stripped of any humanity. They needed these men to be barren before they can be controlled.”

  Skits shook the bright blue fire from her arms as she joined the group. “Government?”

  “No,” Vanessa said. “At least, I don’t think so. Why would the government be using these things when they have techniques far more lethal?”

  Dav5d touched her hand. She gripped his fingers in hers. She let the information flow from her mind, the encounter on the roof with both men flashing quickly. She might be able to see inside the minds of others, but it was her better half who could interpret the information. His eyes glazed over as he stared off into nothingness. His mind was a deafening roar as he pulled from every piece of data he ever collected. He was attempting to draw connections where there might not be any.

  She pulled her hand away. The moment they broke contact the roar diminished to something more like a distant waterfall. She had never heard him use his abilities on such a grand scale. She wondered how dangerous he could be if given the opportunity. He might not be psychic, but even Eleanor didn’t have the luxury of making sense of her visions. Dav5d’s ability to see the future might be limited, but his accuracy was uncanny.

  “Oh no,” whispered Alyssa. The three women held their breath as Jasmine walked down the street holding a body in her arms.

  ***

  He couldn’t see her face, and he was thankful he couldn’t. Boots slammed against the pavement as she walked, each step angrier than the last. They had seen dozens of dead bodies by this point, and he couldn’t fathom why this one was any different. The girl was young, perhaps she was her daughter or a relative of some sort?

  The sound of her screaming still shivered along his spine, giving him goosebumps every time he thought of it. He assumed she was only capable of anger, and each morning she awoke with that default expression written across her face.

  Anguish was not an emotion he’d assign to Jasmine. It terrified and unsettled him, but something about that moment made her far more human than he thought she was capable of. Her anger replaced more sullen emotions quickly. He stayed several feet behind her with Dwayne trailing him. He should have been looking into the dark corners of the streets as they walked, searching for signs of life. Conthan feared for anything willing to confront Jasmine right now.

  Dwayne sped up his walking until they were shoulder to shoulder. The man’s eyes were darting back and forth, scanning the rooftops and the alleys they passed. Dwayne remained vigilant, much better at playing hero than he would ever be.

  “Should we say something?” Conthan whispered.

  “No,” Dwayne replied without a moment’s hesitation.

  “She’s in pain.”

  The look from Dwayne conveyed more than words could. The sharpness in his eyes and his relentless scowl prevented Conthan from talking to Jasmine. Her boots stomped as they turned onto a street leading toward the others. Each foot slammed onto the ground, the sound echoing even louder by the weight bearing down on the woman.

  “Jasmine,” Conthan said suddenly, “we’re going to get them.”

  She stopped walking. He wasn’t sure if it was for dramatic effect or for fear of them seeing her face covered in tears, but she spoke without facing them. “I assumed you wouldn’t see this as a game after witnessing somebody you cared for slaughtered.”

  She continued. Dwayne passed by Conthan, shaking his head. Jasmine’s words cut deep. She still believed he played a game, wrapped up in this idea of being a superhero. Conthan’s pity for her was replaced with anger. She believed herself above him because of what she had endured as part of the military, and yet she made sure he knew his optimism was not welcomed.

  “Fuck you,” he whispered as they walked.

  They approached the others, who hadn’t budged. They were cautious with their eyes, avoiding the girl cradled in Jasmine’s arms. Jasmine had no problem making sure they knew what happened. “They slaughtered everybody in the town. I’m calling in my favor, Vanessa.”

  “Jasmine, we…”

  “I want to go after the government.”

  Vanessa didn’t respond. Jasmine had been tolerant, letting time pass after the Facility attack. Their smaller operations against the government paled in comparison to what she demanded. She didn’t want to attack a manufacturer of synthetics or take out a holding facility, she wanted to strike at the commander, the man in charge of the West Coast military operation.

  “It was the president,” Dav5d said.

  “You understand she’s the most powerful woman in the world, right?” asked Skits.

  “I’ve heard you say that about yourself,” Jasmine spat back. “I’ve been patient. I’ve been cooperative. I’ve been part of this team for a year. But we always knew it was going to come to this.”

  Vanessa nodded. “We owe you.”

  Dav5d’s gaze focused on Jasmine. “The president is the only person who had ties to the Warden, who had two of these men in his possession. The president is the only person who could have ordered the synthetics to attack. There is a connection between these men, the Warden, and president. I am missing something critical. I am making an assumption, but I think there is another player on the field.”

  “Did you just say assumption?” asked Dwayne.

  The black man nodded. “I need to do some research when we get back to Boston. I think I can fill in the blanks and uncover the person.”

  Jasmine faced Vanessa, their eyes meeting. Vanessa broke the silence first. “We discover who did this and I promise you, we stop them.”

  Vanessa didn’t add the underlying line, “We will kill them,” but Conthan understood the tone. He knew they were going to extract revenge. Jasmine might not have noticed it, but he was more than okay with this. He was ready to infiltrate the people that caused Sarah’s death and deliver justice, even if that meant his hands getting bloody.

  “Did anybody see Twenty-Seven?”

  Conthan shook his head. “There were almost no bodies. Just signs of fighting.”

  “We found a synthetic,” added Dwayne.

  “There is a conspiracy afoot,” Dav5d added.

  “And whoever is behind it has decided to start playing this game of chess without us,” Vanessa said.

  She gave a slight nod to Conthan and he knew it was the signal for them to return to Boston. He flexed his muscles and searched his mind for the well of energy used to open portals. It approached empty, but he thought he could still open one more before his powers refused to function. The pain started at the base of his brain and spread through his limbs. As it reached his hands, he flung his fingers open and a portal appeared in the middle of the group.
>
  They each stepped out of the way as Jasmine walked through first. They followed and Conthan took a moment to look back at the town. He commended them for trying to lead a normal life away from danger. He wished this social experiment had been a success. Somewhere in his heart he imagined himself settling down and enjoying his life with other Children. But it wouldn’t happen. Someone decided their community was a threat and destroyed it. He understood Jasmine in that moment. The more he thought about it, the more he agreed with her. Somebody was going to pay for what happened here.

  Chapter 9

  2033

  Jacob sat at the end of a long table inside a glass conference room. At each seat, a man in a suit attentively watched a display hovering above the table. They jotted notes as figures passed over the screen while one of the men talked about quarterly projections. Each of them held an important position within Genesis Division. Some worked directly with research and development with the president; others were number crunchers.

  Jacob gave a passing glance to see that the numbers escalated quickly. He knew they would. While the General of the Free States and the President of the United States waged battle, those who dealt in war were profiting nicely. Only one man in the room belonged to the Society. At the far end of the table, nearly twenty feet away, his insignia remained visible: the white lapel pin sporting two wavy lines. The man had risen through the ranks of the company because of his dedication to the Society. Jacob gave a slight nod to his cohort who returned the gesture.

  Jacob listened to the thoughts of every person in the room, picking apart the conversation and looking for interesting tidbits. A woman in a power suit told herself sleeping with her boss to get a promotion was worth every lust-filled moment. Another man nervously questioned if anybody else in the room could smell the Scotch on his breath. There was nothing worth listening to until a he heard a stray thought from a bald man in a checkered tie.

 

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