Night Shadows (Children of Nostradamus Book 2)

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Night Shadows (Children of Nostradamus Book 2) Page 13

by Jeremy Flagg


  “It’s your last chance to yield.”

  Lily tried to push Jacob out of her head, but she found his hold was absolute. She cast an angry glance at him while he smiled back. He turned his attention to Salvador, who braced himself against the bookcase, his feet inches from the ground. The man attempted to step outside his body, and each time Jacob swatted away the ghostly images.

  “You’re not this strong.”

  “But I am, dear friend.”

  “How’d you do it?”

  “Do you submit?”

  Salvador lashed out. His rage lanced forward, catching Jacob by surprise. Had it been a week prior, the attack would have left him comatose at best. Now, the raw energy coming off the man held no significance. He was insignificant.

  With a flip of the wrist, Lily’s telekinesis snapped the man’s neck. Jacob pulled away from her thoughts and without his direction, her powers returned to her control. Salvador fell to the floor in a heap, his body looking like a broken doll.

  “How did you do that?” Lily asked. Her concern for their dead comrade seemed to be lacking.

  “Before we carry out this plan,” Jacob said, “there are loose ends we need to see attended to.”

  Chapter 10

  2033

  The morning light cast funky shadows along the textured ceiling of his bedroom. Conthan’s muscles ached like he anticipated. Using his abilities too much hurt on its own. When his abilities took over, it never left him feeling good, a brutal hangover from being drunk with power.

  “Hangovers used to mean good vodka,” he mumbled as he rubbed his eyes.

  He had kicked the blankets off in the middle of the night. The room was oddly warm, and he couldn’t muster the energy to crack open the windows before he face dived into bed. He tried to remember his dreams. For the first time in months, he hadn’t been haunted by the Warden. He hoped it meant something about his life was going right. Perhaps the nightly wanderings were starting to win him some points with his conscience.

  He knew at some point today he’d have to talk to Jasmine. She’d be a bitch and brush him off, but more so than anybody else’s, her situation struck home. Somebody important had been ripped away. She was detached before it happened; now, he imagined there was a good chance her humanity was slipping away. He couldn’t blame her. When she started tearing through people to get revenge, would he help her or would he try to deter her? At that moment, he couldn’t tell. The black and white world he lived in for so long started to turn a murky gray.

  Conthan wished there was somebody from his former life to talk to, somebody not tied up in this saving the world gig. There was nobody he could turn to for advice, or at least advice that didn’t include the words power, destiny, psychic, mentalist or villain. He was beginning to think he lived in a comic book. At any moment the building was going to shake and they’d snap to action, fending off the newest in a long list of threats.

  “I can teleport around the world and I’m whining about wanting to be normal.” He laughed. Gretchen would mock him. She’d tell him to celebrate his differences and stop moping. She’d tell him to get out of his head and start living life. She’d tell him a long list of reasons why he was being dumb. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she had been at the gathering. It wouldn’t surprise him to see her lingering among cultists. No, if anything, Gretchen knew how to find trouble, and when she couldn’t find it, she’d make it.

  The room’s temperature steadily increased as the sun beat against the side of the building. It wouldn’t be long before he started sweating. He sat up in bed and pulled off his t-shirt and jeans as he moved toward the bathroom. He appreciated the luxurious bedrooms and the electricity they had in the evenings, but by the time morning came around, the water in the tanks tucked away in the damp basement grew lukewarm at best, and showers were more spine-tingling than refreshing.

  The water beat against his back and he hissed out loud at the shock frigid temps. A year later and he still wasn’t used to it. If he had time, he’d teleport to a working hotel and steal a quick shower tomorrow. He spun about and hissed even louder as the water hit his face and caused his testicles to shrink.

  At some point today, he’d man up and talk to Dwayne. Things had become awkward between them and after watching Jasmine’s anger last night, he didn’t want to alienate his friends. He had fallen asleep thinking of the man and the conversation they had a year ago about doing what comes easy versus what’s right. Dwayne had been the first one of the team he looked up to. He hadn’t realized how high the pedestal stood until the truth of what Dwayne had done to Jasmine brought it crashing down. Now, even Jasmine had forgiven her torturer; only Conthan held a grudge. He wasn’t sure it was even his grudge to hold.

  Dwayne had gone out of his way to check on him every night he ventured into the city. It became something he expected. He wanted to be angry with Dwayne, wanted to hate him for being a prick, but there was an endearing quality about having the guy watching out for him. Every time he came home, he knew it wouldn’t be long before Dwayne showed, making sure he returned from another crusade.

  Something about the man tugged at Conthan. What started out as admiration had turned to anger and now, he almost felt dirty at the thoughts in his mind’s periphery. As he dwelled on the man, there was a knock on his door.

  “Coming,” he yelled from the shower.

  He turned off the freezing water and grabbed a towel sitting on the sink. He wrapped it around his waist, realizing the hotel towels were far too short for a chubby man to cover himself. He did his best to protect his modesty as he made his way to the door. He swung it open expecting to see Dwayne. He tried to hide his frown when Jasmine stared back at him.

  “We need to talk.”

  He staggered over his own feet as she pushed her way into the room.

  “I can see you’re as pleasant as always.”

  She shut the door and eyed him. It was the first time she had deliberately been in a position leaving them alone together. It took him a moment to notice she was in the red tactical suit given to her by the Paladins. The leather hugged her body, emphasizing her curves. He knew there were bits of metal woven into the thread, making it nearly bulletproof. Where the leather parted, the fabric beneath almost appeared like chainmail, the small fibers linking together to create a modern day warrior costume. The sleeves ended part way down her forearms, leaving plenty of room for gauntlets to touch her skin. It fit too well not be custom, but he wondered if there were other tricks to the suit that complimented her powers.

  “I need you to get me to the General.”

  “Hi, Conthan,” he mocked. “How’s it going, teammate? I value your work on the…”

  She shoved him backward. “It wasn’t a question.”

  He dropped the towel as he pushed her back. Her jaw dropped as she caught herself. He gritted his jaw, waiting for her iron fist to club him across the face. He didn’t want to fight her, but he wasn’t going to let her walk all over him.

  “You know I could beat you into the ground.”

  “I could tear open your innards with a black hole.”

  “Which one of us is more likely to follow through with our threat?”

  The power in the base of his skull came to life and he waited to see if she would make a move. “If we’re going to see whose is bigger, mine’s already on the table.”

  She tried to keep her eyes focused on him, but he caught them flicking south for a moment. He laughed at her, not a fake laugh, but one starting from the pit of his stomach. He reached down and grabbed his towel, ignoring her and going back to putting on his clothes.

  “What just happened?”

  “You checked out my junk.”

  “I did not,” she said, her face turning a shade darker.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “It happens to the best of us.”

  “I should have assumed you wouldn’t take this seriously.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  He pulled on a p
air of underwear and stood, dragging his jeans up one leg and then the other. He looked at her when she didn’t reply. “That’s what you wanted me to say, right? You want me to teleport us in so you can kill the General.”

  “Yeah,” she mumbled. “I didn’t think you’d agree.”

  “There’s a catch.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Don’t test me, Jasmine. In this equation, you need me way more than I need you. So you’re going to agree, and then we can both walk out of this getting what we wanted.” He pulled a t-shirt over his head and met her face to face. “You’re going to help me kill the President.”

  Conthan waited for her to speak, but found she was assessing him. She stepped back, nodding as she leaned against the wall. “For Sarah?”

  “For the girl?” he countered.

  Before she replied the building shook. The floor moved enough that Conthan had to sit down on his bed. He started to speak but another explosion rocked the building. A roaring sound came closer until Jasmine’s eyes lit up. “They found us.”

  ***

  “What would you be doing?” asked Dwayne.

  Vanessa sat on the bar stool, staring off into the distance. He watched as her forehead wrinkled, giving his question consideration for the first time. It was a game the others played often, but he realized she had never given him an answer. Now, as her dark green eyebrows arched, he couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Of all the things you can be jealous of, Dwayne, my eyebrows?”

  “Did you give yourself a compliment?”

  They relaxed at the bar, each in their usual seat they had long ago claimed as their own. The large glass window let in the morning light, illuminating the entire bar, showing off the dust hovering in the air. Dwayne lifted a broken mug to his lips. He often found it funny, these mornings when they acted as if they were normal. He sipped his black coffee, ignoring the fact he could hurl lighting from his body. Something about the normalcy helped remind him why he endured the constant fighting and running.

  She smiled. He assumed she was listening to his every thought. Her drawn-back lips formed a sincere expression. Not one of her coy smiles, something she had mastered as the Angel of the Outlands. No, this was entirely Vanessa, the gargoyle of the Nighthawks. He found her features fascinating, how it almost appeared she had animal properties mixed in with her human traits. He understood why she hid for so long, but he was glad his oldest friend was coming into her own.

  “I wouldn’t,” she finally answered.

  “You wouldn’t?”

  “This is my life. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I have dear friends, people who rely on me. I have a cause. It might not all be good, but I can’t imagine a different life. Where would someone like me go? Can you imagine me a school teacher? Or a working in a bar?”

  “And Dav5d?”

  “I have Dav5d,” she said with a bit of a smirk. Her eyes darted away, avoiding his. He knew she was being demure.

  “And what is he to you?”

  “How about we discuss your love life?” she said, poking him in the chest.

  “What love life? You people are the only ones I see.”

  “And?”

  The ground rumbled and the large bay window shattered, falling to the ground. They shielded their faces as the glass smashed along the bar floor. Dwayne hopped off his stool and grabbed Vanessa under the legs and behind her back, lifting her over the small shards. He set her down as they watched the street.

  “What was that?”

  “Gas?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “You’re not hearing anybody?” he asked, pointing to his head.

  She shook her head in reply. They turned down the other street to see if there were any signs of movement. Just as Dwayne was about to speak, an explosion boomed only a few blocks away. The side of a building erupted, sending glass and steel into the street below.

  “It’s the machines,” Vanessa said, panicked.

  “Nothing?”

  “I can’t hear anything.”

  “It’s like Troy. They’re eradicating Children.”

  She nodded. He watched the muscles in her body as the anger washed over her. There are machines coming. This isn’t like before, there are no humans.

  Two large mechs rounded the corner and another airship hovered just above the city buildings. They were willing to wage a full-out war to eradicate his team. It had been more than an hour since he had discharged his electricity; the energy building up in his body was more than ready to release.

  “What the fuck?” yelled Skits as she charged out of the hotel.

  Dav5d pointed down the street. “It seems they’ve decided our time is up.”

  “Where’s Alyssa?” asked Dwayne.

  “She ran next door to the tower. I have no idea what she’s doing.”

  Jasmine and Conthan trotted from the hotel to join them. He noticed she was in her old tactical gear and wondered if she had enough time to change or if something else had been going on when the explosions started. Nearly his entire team stood in awe. They could easily run from the chaos, or they could put up yet another fight and hope they walked away victorious.

  “The decision is yours,” Vanessa whispered.

  He didn’t want to put their lives in jeopardy or take any risks that meant one of them might not walk way. He was just about to tell Conthan to open a portal away from their home when an image of Jasmine holding the girl came to mind. Last night when they returned she had taken the girl to be buried in a nearby park. They all stayed awake, waiting for their teammate to do her duty. She needed space, but they wanted her to know they stood by her side.

  He turned to see Jasmine waiting for his command. “For Troy,” he said.

  The airships looked like giant U’s with massive turbines hovering in their center. From forty feet above the ground several hatches opened and at least twenty small synthetics slid down steel cables. He knew they were entering a standoff. It wouldn’t be long before the fight was literally on top of them.

  “If you can bring down one of the airships, its forward momentum would put it between us and the synthetics. It would force them to come in waves.”

  Dwayne didn’t need Dav5d to say it twice. The smartest man alive was standing at his side, something he would have to rely on.

  Vanessa, go high, we’ll need you as back up to one of the ships. Conthan, send Jasmine…

  He stopped the thought as the window of a building seven stories up shattered and a chair went flying. He had no doubt what he was about to see. Alyssa soared through the air, her arms and legs stretched out wide, helping slow her descent.

  “Conthan!”

  She knew he wouldn’t run from a fight. There was something comforting in knowing the mellowest member of their squad was willing to put her life on the line. There was something more satisfying about knowing Conthan would be there to save her from falling to her death. At least, he hoped that was what she was doing.

  The black void opened in the air, intercepting her.

  “Where to?”

  “The cockpit. Fuck the President.”

  ***

  The chair hit the window and the glass gave way, a million razor-sharp pieces falling several stories below. Alyssa held the crowbar in her right hand and dug the ball of her foot into the industrial carpet. She shoved off, her body moving quickly, forcing her toward the broken window.

  Wind.

  She held her arms and legs out wide. The wind whipped at her clothes. She soared away from the building, her eyes focused on the ship below. If she landed correctly, she’d be able to roll to a stop before sliding into a turbine and getting herself chopped to death. Amidst the thoughts of being ground into bloody pieces, she had a moment of serenity. She always wondered what it must be like for Vanessa to fly, and as her body sailed downward, she understood the freedom.

  A small black portal opened between her and the ship. It was nearly ten feet in the wrong direction. She had no idea what
Conthan was attempting, but she trusted they had a plan. Tucking in her left arm and leg, she leaned to one side, coming closer to the portal. She knew if she hit the edges they would slice through her.

  Moment of darkness and then she slid along the ground inside the ship. Her muscles reacted, applying a lifetime of training she watched on the computer yesterday before Troy. A single synthetic stood between her and what she assumed was the cockpit. The room was narrow, without much space on either side of her and the synthetic. She assumed they created the room as a hallway to easily kill invaders.

  She charged. She didn’t have space to jump around the machine, but she was trained in close-quarters combat. It reached out to grab her shoulder. She smacked her hand downward, denting metal as she swung the crowbar. She changed direction and brought the metal up, clubbing the machine in the head. It staggered.

  Alyssa jumped up, slamming both of her feet against the machine. She landed on her back and with a kick of her legs, posed in a crouch as the machine fell. The synthetic reached out, its fingers gripping into the metal of the wall. Alyssa flipped the crowbar around and jammed the tip under the machine’s chin.

  The synthetic grabbed at her shoulder. She screamed as its fingers gripped tighter. For a moment she thought it’d crush her clavicle. Then its grip loosened. The machine didn’t move anymore.

  “That’s how it’s done.”

  She grabbed the crowbar and twisted, breaking several of the hydraulics in the machine’s neck. She didn’t dare risk the synthetic doing something when she wasn’t paying attention. Between her and the cockpit stood a thick metal door. She smashed the keypad to the side until wires poured out of the wall. She held the crowbar between her legs as she started pulling at the wires.

  “Dav5d, this is so much more your area.”

  The green wire. Tie it to the black and the blue to the yellow. The surge should unlock the door.

  For a moment she saw through Vanessa’s eyes as the telepath projected Dav5d’s thoughts. The woman climbed up the side of a building. They stayed to protect their home. Alyssa began spinning wires together, a sense of pride washing over her. They weren’t going down without a fight.

 

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