Unhidden (The Gatekeeper Chronicles Book 1)
Page 24
“Zane,” I breathed with equal parts terror and desire at his overwhelming presence. Then it hit me that Zane was working with the government. “What …? Why …?”
Connor laughed at my confusion. “This doesn’t mean we’re besties or anything. Zane wants that rift open as much as we do, so call it a temporary alliance based on mutual interests.”
“Zane,” I said urgently, straining against my captor in an attempt to get closer to the mage. “You have to listen to me. I know the man that I was with two nights ago is still in there somewhere. You have to stop this. Please.” My vision blurred as I searched Zane’s face, looking for some sign that he still knew me, cared for me.
His expression remained icy and contemptuous. “You are nothing but a worthless harlot, trying to seduce me into betraying my cause. Your trickery won’t work on me again. I now see you for what you really are—a vile, evil liar and a murderer of innocents. You disgust me.”
It felt as if my heart had stopped beating in that moment. I couldn’t take a breath, my mouth opened, trying to gulp air, but my lungs wouldn’t work. I felt lightheaded, and the stadium began to spin around me. I heard a distant choking and gasping. Trying to focus on where it was coming from, I realized it was me. I was still being held by the arms, but I was bent over at the waist, gulping oxygen in short breaths with wetness on my cheeks.
He is right, I thought. I was a murderer of innocents. Thousands of people on Urusilim had died because of me, because of my anger, my desperation to save Zane. And how many more had died at my hands on Earth? Even when I had been given a chance for a new life, I had chosen to be a killer. What’s more, if I failed the task at hand, I could add thousands more victims to my ledger.
I forced myself to take deep breaths and looked back up at Zane. “You’re right. I am evil, and I am a murderer, but I’m not a liar. I loved you once, and if you ever felt the same for me, you will help me stop this so we can save the lives of thousands of innocent people.” His eyes softened almost imperceptibly, until I had to open my stupid mouth again. “We can’t let those monsters through the rift.”
At that, the rage came pouring forth once again. “You would call them monsters? They are my brothers and sisters, and they deserve life more than these scheming, power-hungry cowards,” he spat, gesturing around the stadium. “I want these monsters to come forth and purge this world so we can remake Urusilim out of its ashes.”
“Now, Jason,” I said into the radio earpiece that was discreetly hidden under my hair. The crack of a high-powered sniper rifle echoed off every square inch of concrete. Jason was perched at the top of the stadium with a clear view of the entire field. The bullet slammed into the forehead of the giant holding me. I heard the wet thunk as the bullet penetrated its skull and sunk into the brain. The big guy convulsed once, then his hands went slack, and he fell hard to the ground.
In response, guns slid free of holsters, rifles were slung forward, and soon, every person on the field had a weapon drawn, trying to find the source of the shot. Zane, taking advantage of the distraction, lunged toward Connor, but instead of attacking Connor, Zane scooped up Sharur. With a graceful twist, he spun around, swinging the weapon through the air to slice open my throat.
I leaned back as I saw the axe blade coming at me, felt the swish of air rush past. Warm liquid dripped down my neck, and the biting sting of a thin cut blossomed at my throat. It wasn’t deep, though it was a clear sign the negotiations were over. The battle was about to begin.
I gave a sharp whistle. At my signal, dozens of arrows were released into the air, arcing gracefully before raining hell down on the field. The arrows were aimed at the soldiers on the perimeter as well as Connor. A few soldiers were dropped by lucky shafts that found the soft flesh of necks or eyes, but most of the arrows bounced harmlessly off their body armor. The arrows had the desired effect, though—chaos erupted.
The workers in lab coats were running and screaming, sprinting toward exits, trying to escape the barrage. As those sharp points came flying toward me, aimed at Connor standing nearby, I held my ground, unflinching, hoping my trust hadn’t been misplaced.
It wasn’t. Arrows fell at my feet harmlessly, bouncing off the protective shield erected over my head like an impenetrable umbrella. I looked up at the press box and gave Alex a wave of thanks.
As expected, Zane had done the same thing. Connor tried to duck behind Zane to use him as a shield, but Zane unceremoniously shoved him away, leaving him exposed. Connor, cockroach that he was, grabbed a nearby scientist who was running past him, headed for the exit. He swung the poor man around roughly, holding the man to his chest in a vice grip. In seconds, the scientist was a pin cushion, his white coat soaked crimson. Connor then tossed him aside roughly, used and forgotten.
The soldiers turned around and opened fire into the stadium seating. Even with their rifles, they weren’t able to target the elves that were scattered throughout the stadium, ducked down behind the seats and cement barriers. The General commanded them into the seating areas to flush out the enemy. So predictable, I thought.
As the soldiers closed in, the elves dropped the useless bows and sprung from their hiding places, opening fire with handguns and rifles. Since the elves were pretty crappy at handling high powered weapons, getting the soldiers into close range was our only hope. Jason also stayed in position to provide some extra firepower. I could see both soldiers and elves falling as the battle continued.
Suddenly, Connor screamed a command over the din of the fighting. “Attack!”
Dark shapes moved out of the shadowed dugouts and promenades, bounding into the seats and onto the field. From this distance, I could see they moved on four legs with powerfully muscled bodies and curled tails. They had a cat-like grace. I would have guessed them to be lions except for their small heads.
They moved swiftly toward the elves. One elf that had been positioned on top of the visitor’s dugout didn’t even see the creature coming until it was too late. It slunk out of the dugout and spread black leathery wings. One powerful down stroke lifted it silently into the air where it dropped onto the unsuspecting elf, lashing out with what I now recognized to be a scorpion tale, impaling the elf in the stomach with its venomous stinger.
The elf stopped struggling, paralyzed by poison yet gurgling in an effort to scream for help. The creature opened its jaws wide and literally bit the elf’s head off. The creature proceeded to crunch and swallow the bloody skull, and then gulped down the rest of the elf’s body until nothing was left—no clothes, no blood, no bones. I thought I was going to vomit as the beast moved into the seats, looking for its next meal.
An elf that had been hiding in the higher mezzanine level saw the attack and began shooting. Most of the bullets went far afield, but those that did hit home barely nicked its tough hide. Then I heard the familiar crack of a rifle, and Jason’s bullet found its way through an eye socket into the creature’s brain, dropping it where it stood.
“Nice shot,” I said into my earpiece.
“Thank ye kindly, ma’am,” Jason responded.
“Start making your way down here. I need you on the field.” It was probably more beneficial to keep him where he was, but if things went bad, I wanted him to have quicker access out of the stadium. He was too far from an exit for my comfort.
“I won’t have your back for a few minutes. Try to stay alive,” he said, teasing me.
“I plan to. Over and out,” I said.
I spun in a circle, taking in the mayhem in the stands as the beasts went after elves and soldiers alike, either not able to or not caring enough to differentiate ally from enemy. That was when I saw Zane land a right hook across Connor’s face. It felt good to watch Connor impact with the ground hard. I only wished I had been the one to hit him. When Zane reached down and tore a chain from Connor’s neck, a chill ran through me. He had my amulet.
I pulled my Glock and shot the entire clip at Zane. He threw up a shield the moment he heard the first sho
t, though. It wasn’t fast enough to block that first bullet, but the rest were. The one that made it through ricocheted off the blade of the battle axe that Zane was holding and put a small hole in the nearby General’s head.
I sprinted toward Zane yet wasn’t fast enough to stop him from slamming the amulet into the circular depression in the center of the axe head. The amulet began to glow with that deep indigo light I had seen in Mexico and again in the alley with the shadow demons. The light poured like liquid along the scroll work etched into the double blades.
Then Alex was at my side, ice cold vapor pouring from his outstretched palms toward Zane. The fog flowed over the grass until it reached Zane. Tendrils climbed up his legs, torso, and arms. Zane struggled against it, unable to move as his body was encased in ice. He became a beautiful, glittering statue, and I had the odd desire to run my fingers across the smooth surface.
“Grab the axe,” Alex said, weaving on his feet. I took his arm to steady him.
“But it’s frozen.”
“Not for long.”
Looking back at Zane, I saw the ice weeping, droplets sliding down his chest and arms, dripping steadily to the ground. The fingers of his free hand twitched, his palm glowing orange with the beginnings of a flame.
I closed the distance, grabbing onto the axe shaft with both hands and pulling. It didn’t budge.
“Look out!” Alex yelled.
A massive force slammed into my side, throwing me several feet. The soft grass cushioned my landing a bit, but I fell on the shoulder that had been dislocated only two weeks earlier, and it screamed in pain. A dark shape leapt on me. I instinctively raised my arms to protect my head and neck, stopping a vicious mouth from tearing into me. Right about then I was regretting having sent Jason away from his sniper position.
One of the beasts that Connor had called forth towered over me. I could see it clearly, and it wasn’t the face of an animal. Staring back at me was Lockien, with those same green eyes, tan hair and angular face that looked so much like Lilly’s. However, his mouth had been torn wide to make room for triple rows of pointed teeth. Wicked scars and stitches were apparent where he had been torn open and sewn back up. The stitches were also at his neck where his head had been attached the body of a lion-like creature. All I could think was that I had seen him die. What had they done to him, and how had they brought him back to life, if you could even call it a life?
Tail raised high over his head, he prepared to strike.
“Lockien! It’s me, Emma. Your father is here. These are your people. You don’t want to hurt them. Do you understand me?”
Lockien didn’t strike. Instead, he looked around in confusion at the chaos in the stadium. Then he looked down at his body as if trying to remember what had happened to him. Blinking rapidly, tears sprung to his eyes as he looked at me. That hideous mouth opened and closed, keening noises bubbling up from his damaged throat until he managed two raspy words, “Kill … me.”
My own vocal chords clenched as a lump formed in my throat. I pulled my gun and placed it gently against his temple. He didn’t move, only continued to plead silently with his eyes. Then those eyes darkened, and Lockien was gone again. The creature recognized its predicament immediately and struck out with its tail.
The scorpion stinger scraped along the skin of my right arm. The venom initially set my skin on fire, and then the paralysis began to spread down my arm. I had to act before it reached my gun hand.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and then pulled the trigger.
Lockien fell on top of me, his bloody head resting on my shoulder. My arm fell uselessly at my side. Then Alex was there helping to roll the body off me.
“Manticores,” he said, referring to the beast, not noticing its face. “As soon as the elves run out of bullets, they’re done for. These things will eat them alive.”
“Then let’s finish this,” I responded, gritting my teeth in determination. They were brave words, though difficult to execute in our condition. Alex was weakened to the point of uselessness. I had a paralyzed right arm and an injured left shoulder. We didn’t make the most threatening pair, and it looked like we might be too late anyway.
Zane was fully thawed now and had Sharur lifted over his head, rich blue light pulsing through the blades like a living thing. My breath caught as he swung the axe downward. I was anticipating some dramatic opening of a doorway between worlds; instead, the axe thunked to the ground at Zane’s feet. Zane doubled over, clutching his head, struggling to stifle a scream through clenched teeth.
I made a move toward him; however, Connor got there first, snatching up the axe in a flash. “Well, it looks like Plan A is a bust. On to Plan B,” he said, giving me a sly smile. “I know you want this, and I want to give it to you, but …”
“I am not going to use it,” I said. “And now that I know you can’t use it, either, I don’t need it after all. I think I’ll just go home to get a good night’s sleep and kill you another day,” I said, returning his smug smile.
“I’m willing to bet I can change your mind about using the axe,” he said. “Bring him out,” he yelled over his shoulder.
Two soldiers stepped out of the Mets’ dugout, dragging a third figure between them. Their prisoner was thin, weak. He couldn’t even walk under his own power, head hanging on his chest, wrists tied behind his back.
As they dragged him into the light, I recognized his blond hair immediately, even before Connor grabbed his hair, jerking his head up so I could see the prisoner’s face.
“Daniel,” I choked, taking a step forward. All of my bravado evaporated, and cold terror flooded my heart.
Connor put a gun to Daniel’s head, and I stopped in my tracks. “Use the axe or he dies.” Daniel’s eye and cheek were bruised, his lip and forehead split, face coated in dried blood. His eyelids drooped, partially hiding a glazed look, like he had been drugged.
I didn’t even waste a moment to debate it. “Give it to me,” I said. Connor thrust the axe into my waiting left hand as I tried to ignore the pain in my shoulder. “When the rift is open, you will hand over Daniel to me, unharmed. Understand?”
“You have my word,” he replied, as if his word meant anything to me.
My fingers closed around the shaft of the battle axe. It was surprisingly warm to the touch, and I could feel that familiar thrumming against my palm. The vibration ran up my arm, soothing my wounded shoulder until the pain was nothing except a dull ache. The blue light that had dimmed when Zane had dropped the object, flared to life even brighter than before. Sharur felt good in my hands, not too much weight, only enough at the head to make for a powerful blow.
I stepped past Zane who was still kneeling with his forehead touching the cool grass, taking deep breaths. I moved onto the dais and lifted Sharur above my head like I had seen Zane do. My eyes shifted between the men who held pieces of my heart: Daniel, Zane, and even Alex. I had to help them all get out of this alive, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.
Focus, came a faint voice from so far away I thought I had imagined it. I looked sharply at Connor, but his eager expression didn’t falter. He hadn’t heard it.
I closed my eyes and concentrated, shutting out the sounds of gunfire, screams of terror, moans of pain. Focus, the voice said again, a little louder this time. Hold in your mind the image of what you want.
Maybe I was going crazy, or the stress was finally getting to me, but I found myself actually doing what the voice had said. Holding the image firmly in my mind, I let the axe fall, carried by the weight of the blade. Unexpected resistance met the blade, forcing me to put my body weight behind the downward stroke. It felt like cutting through cold butter with a plastic knife—not clean and easy, though not impossible, either.
When the tip of the blade touched the ground, I opened my eyes. In front of me was the doorway I had pictured in my mind. It started as a thin tear in the air that would have been unnoticeable in the dark, but then it began to separate. I could see n
o lands or armies inside the tear. There was nothing other than blackness. Yet the thick stench of smoke assaulted my nose. The thunder of footsteps, crash of steel, and growls of beasts reached my ears and grew louder with each passing second. The ground shook with their impending onslaught.
I stepped back, moving away from the rift. Turning to Connor, I shouted over the din of the battle and approaching host, “It’s open. Now give Daniel to me.”
While Connor was assembling what remained of his troops to storm the gateway, I reached into the pouch that hung at my waist and pulled out the device Benjamin had given me. I positioned myself to toss it into the rift the moment Daniel was out of Connor’s grasp to collapse the gate before anything could get out. Connor barely glanced at me, waving to his soldiers to release Daniel.
They let go of Daniel’s arms, dropping him to the ground at their feet. Doing my best impersonation of Mets hall-of-fame pitcher Tom Seaver, I snapped my arm forward with all the force I could muster. It would have been a perfect throw if Zane hadn’t slammed into me with his full body weight right as I released the object, sending my pitch wild.
The device landed in the seating area where it imploded. In a split second, every seat, manticore and elf that had been standing within a hundred foot radius of it got sucked into a void. The void then collapsed upon itself, leaving behind a vast section of nothing except broken concrete.
Connor and his soldiers hesitated, uncertain whether I had any more of those devices.
Hot, angry tears sprung unbidden to my eyes. That had been my only chance of closing the rift, my only chance to save Earth. My murderous gaze landed on Zane; however, he was staring rapturously at the procession stepping through the gate onto Citi Field.
A team of scouts came through first. They looked like overgrown wolves with coarse gray fur and sharp eyes. They took in the sights and smells around them, but judging from their bored look, clearly didn’t feel the elves, manticores and a human army were much of a threat. The largest wolf threw his head back and gave a long, keening howl, signaling the all clear.