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Amare- Bloodlines

Page 13

by J Gaines


  *

  He opened his eyes and slowly focussed on where he was. The hood hadn’t been replaced, but his hands and legs were still tied behind his back. Although it was dim and there was no light, he could see he was in a small cell-like room with no windows. It was dirty and damp, and sealed by a large iron door with patches of rust climbing up it.

  He ignored the dark thoughts that were fighting to overcome his senses, and his instincts pushed him to shuffle towards the door. As he inched closer and closer he felt a dull pain on the side of his head, which then resonated in his shoulder and ribs. He finally reached the door and lay still, listening for anything that might give him a clue to where he was and how he was being guarded. Before his conversation with Kaden, his sole purpose had been to face him; breaking free had been out of the question. But now he knew the only hope for John and the alliance was if he and Lucas could somehow escape before the information Kaden required was extracted from them.

  He’d been foolish and over-confident to think he could stand against Kaden in his current physical condition. As much as it pained him to admit it, he had no control. An image of Kaden suddenly flashed into his head and unanswered questions pulled at his emotions. He resisted and turned his thoughts to Lucas; he wondered desperately if it was too late and whether the information on the base’s location had already been extracted from him.

  He couldn’t hear anything through the door, and there were no gaps to look through. He lay still, fighting against the tricks his mind was playing on him. Did I dream the conversation with Kaden? Could he have devised the story to try and break me mentally? He looked desperately for a reason to discredit what he’d been told, but instead Kaden’s words found him out in the darkness, as if he were lying next to him, whispering in his ear and repeating a horrible truth. He was Kaden’s twin brother, a bond that should be the strongest between siblings, a connection that should be unbreakable. Hot, angry tears filled his eyes and he let them escape onto his cheeks. Not only was Kaden his brother; Blaise was not. It was as if Kaden had somehow reached into his soul and ripped the history he shared with Blaise away, a past that he’d held onto every time he’d thought about him. An image of Blaise’s face flashed into his mind: it was the last time he’d been with him, and rain was washing away the blood from his face as he lay dead. He remembered how innocence had filled his eyes in a way that only redemption could deliver: a selfless act for which he’d paid the ultimate price. Amias felt a familiar pain in his stomach as he realised that, in Blaise’s final moments of life, he’d stepped in front of a blade meant for him in the knowledge he wasn’t his brother. As more tears followed, so did his true forgiveness for Blaise.

  *

  As the hours passed he forgot everything else he’d been told by Kaden. He cried for much of the time and thought constantly of Blaise. Somehow, he now knew he’d accepted the truth in Kaden’s words the moment they were spoken. He and Blaise weren’t brothers, but they’d had a bond, a relationship that had been forged in a need for survival. As he remembered the abuse they’d suffered growing up, he desperately wished their fates had been different.

  Finally, his thoughts turned to his mother and father. For such a long time, he hadn’t been sure of how to feel about his real parents. Should he feel anger towards them, or sadness for a story he’d never been told? As far as he’d been aware they’d died; but he couldn’t remember if this was just a story he and Blaise had told themselves. He’d made up images of what his parents looked like many times: he looked like his father, and Blaise had looked like his mother. Sometimes they were old and happy, strong and stable, holding the hidden power of knowledge in their loving eyes. At other times, they were young and passionate, with fire in their hearts and a determination that their children would make a difference in the world. He hadn’t ever considered the truth: that they were scared and hunted, running away from a life which wouldn’t let them go.

  If it were true that both his parents shared abilities, then he was truly different to anyone he’d met before. Before Jasmine had died, she’d told him how altéré were unable to share children together. He didn’t feel special, though; he felt cursed and angry. From what he’d seen of the mistrust that weaved its way in between the foundations of the people who had named him altéré, he could understand the focus his parents would have wanted to avoid. If his birth had become known to the elders, they would have demanded to know how it was possible. He imagined himself in his parents’ position, frightened their children would be taken away and unwilling to give time to finding out how and why they had been given a miracle. He wondered whether there were others like him whose parents had been successful in hiding their most important secret. As he thought more about it he felt anger grow inside him like nothing he’d ever felt before. How had they been discovered? Whom had they shared their secret with and did they betray them? It was inevitable that someone knew the truth if Kaden had managed to come by it. He clenched his fists tightly and the ties around his wrists bit into his skin. This was why Kaden had waged a war against everyone like him; it was a deluded attempt at gaining revenge against the people who’d killed their mother.

  As anger coursed through him, he could understand the need for the truth, but not for revenge. Kaden had been unable to find out what had really happened, and rather than accept it, the anger had driven him in a direction of darkness. Even as Amias felt the cold bite of rage he knew he could never follow a blind path of retribution. In his murderous actions Kaden had become what he sought to destroy, and in his single-minded determination to forge an alliance with Amias, he’d sacrificed innocent lives.

  If Kaden really was his brother, and his parents were both altéré, it would answer questions over which Virgil and John had puzzled regarding Amias’s abilities. Kaden’s strength and speed were unrivalled, and he was unequalled in combat. Although Amias fell short of these abilities, he’d still displayed the first-strength earlier than Kaden, and despite not going through the usual training period, he’d showed a strength and speed far beyond most other altéré. When he’d first met Kaden, he was specifically interested in what triggered the first-strength so early in Amias, and why his abilities had manifested at such a young age. Amias had assumed it was obvious and that it was because he’d been trying to protect his brother, but Virgil had explained he believed it was something else. Before she died, Jasmine had told him it was the understanding of all altéré they could only have children with someone who wasn’t like them. What Kaden had now discovered would tear this belief apart; and if it were true, they were living proof of it.

  He closed his eyes and saw Jasmine’s, and it was as if they were looking inside his body and mind, searching for what made him different. For reasons he didn’t understand, the vision of Jasmine stirred something in him. He opened his eyes and struggled to push himself up against the wall, edging his shoulder against the cold damp stone, inch by inch, until he sat with his back against it. If he gave up, Kaden would destroy his opportunity to uncover the truth, the truth about himself and about what had happened to his parents, and he couldn’t let that happen. His mind raced for a glimmer of hope. He looked around the room and now that his eyes had become accustomed to the darkness of his makeshift cell, he could see that his only chance of escaping was through the iron door. As he measured the strength of it, he could see it was two inches thick, and although it was bitten by rust, the hinges and lock were still strong. As he stared at the door hopelessly, he heard a noise outside. It was the creaking of a door opening somewhere. He focussed his senses and closed his eyes, listening intently for any other sound. Within moments the creak was followed by footsteps. He couldn’t be sure how many people were coming but it was definitely more than one. He swallowed and raised his head defiantly, readying himself for whoever was about to enter, and determined to take any opportunity for escape. The footsteps came closer and he tensed and clenched his fists until he heard them pass. Instant relief flowed th
rough him; he knew he wasn’t ready yet, he needed more time. He listened as the footsteps stopped and was surprised to hear another door creak open close by. There was another screech as the door was moved and a slam as it closed. He then heard the footsteps walk away until finally he could hear nothing else. As he let himself slide back down onto the cold hard floor he felt an overwhelming tiredness take hold of him. This time he didn’t fight it; he closed his eyes as sleep washed over him.

  *

  He was descending the hill he knew so well, and could see smoke rising from the unused chimney. The sky was grey, and he sensed the rain that was about to fall in the air. There was a pressure building and thunder rumbled in the distance. He felt scared as he looked in the direction it came from. A lightning strike lit up the sky and thunder followed again. He turned away and increased his pace, watching the smoke escape into the sky like an evil spirit calling on the weather to strike him down.

  As he neared the chimney and the buildings inside the base, he realised the smoke wasn’t coming from the chimney – it was coming from the buildings that were inhabited. Other smoke trails suddenly appeared and as he reached the fence he saw that it had been ripped apart. He hesitated for a moment, reluctant to step across. The smoke seemed to be joining together as one and coming towards him, threatening a hidden malice. Many of the buildings were burning but he couldn’t see anybody escaping them. He controlled the urge to turn and run, fighting against the fear of what was to come. Suddenly a long howl travelled down the hill from behind him and he turned to see the wolves standing on the hill, looking downward. This drove him forwards and he leapt over the broken fence and ran towards the main building as fast as he could. Rain began to fall as a deafening thunder-clap cracked the sky above him.

  He reached the doors that led to the accommodation building and found them broken and burning. Ignoring the flames, he kept on running down an unlit corridor until he reached a large hall. Lights flickered as he approached, and he slowed his pace to a walk. He watched as the double doors swung back and forth, driven by a wind he couldn’t feel. He pushed them aside and stepped slowly through the doorway. Beds had been scattered and there were numerous fires still smouldering. As the lights continued to flicker he looked around for a sign of life. A fear was building, and suddenly he knew that he needed to escape the hall. He turned to leave, but as he approached the doors they swung shut. Grabbing the handles, he pulled at them with all his strength, but they remained closed. He spun around in terror as the fires grew and an unbearable heat filled the room. In the light of the fires he could see that the floor was a strange grey colour, as if it had been covered in sand. He bent down and picked some up in his hand. It was then he realised that it wasn’t sand, it was ash, and in the flames he saw a human skull burning. He turned towards the doors and ran towards them as flames engulfed him and he was consumed by fire. He cried out against a pain he didn’t feel.

  *

  He was drenched in sweat as he awoke, and his heart was still thumping. He looked around the darkness of his cell and sucked in the stale air as he felt his heart rate drop. Lately his dreams had been more vivid and confusing. As he closed his eyes again, reliving the dream, he heard something. Somebody was calling his name. All of his senses tingled and his ears twitched as he sought desperately to understand where the voice was coming from. He heard his name again, and he realised the voice was coming from the wall opposite him. He edged across the floor, pushing himself with his legs in the direction of the damp stone wall. When he reached it he pushed himself upwards.

  “Lucas,” he called.

  “Amias,” came the slightly muffled reply. “Can you stop screaming over there, please, I’m trying to sleep.”

  As excitement and relief burst into his chest at the sound of Lucas’s sarcastic tone, he tried quickly to regain his control. If they had been put in cells next to each other it was for a reason.

  “Have you always been in the cell next to me?” Amias asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

  Amias ignored the urge to ask him what he’d been saying. “I heard them bring you into the cell. I’m not exactly sure of when it was, but it wasn’t long ago. If that’s the case, then Kaden has done it for a reason. Have you told him the location to the base?”

  There was a pause that seemed like an age. “Give me some credit, Amias. Anyway, how do I know it’s really you?”

  “Of course it’s me. You said you heard my voice when I was sleeping!”

  “I can hear a voice that sounds like yours. But how do I know this isn’t one of Kaden’s tricks?”

  The same thought had crossed Amias’s mind and he hesitated before replying. “In our last training session with John, what did I say to you when I beat you in the bleep test?”

  There was a pause. “You didn’t say anything, you threw me the finger when John turned his back.”

  That was good enough for Amias; there was no way Kaden could know that. There were other risks to the two of them speaking aloud, though. “Look, if Kaden put us in cells next to each other, he’ll expect us to discover it. He could be in here with either of us for all we know. We have to be prepared that he will use anything we say against us. We need to make sure we don’t talk about anything that could endanger the others. Do you agree?”

  “Agreed,” came the instant response.

  “Good. How are you physically?” Amias asked hopefully.

  “Oh, great,” came the familiar sarcastic response. “I feel amazing, how about you?”

  Amias smiled to himself and rested his head against the wall. “Same.”

  There was silence for a few minutes before he heard Lucas’s voice again. “How do we get out of this one?”

  “I don’t know. But we will.” He heard a muffled laugh.

  “Am I supposed to have faith in you now? Is this where you become the leader you were always meant to be?”

  Amias smiled. “This isn’t the time to be negative. We need to be together on this or we won’t escape. Our chances are slim, and our hope is small. But if there is a way, we can find it together.” He sighed. “It’s my fault we’re here, I know that. And I owe you for coming back for me at the warehouse.”

  “You were part of my team,” came the solemn response.

  An overwhelming guilt stabbed at Amias as he sat in the darkness. He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Lucas. I’ve been driven by revenge, I know that now. I’ve been no different to Kaden.”

  “You’re not the same as him.”

  Amias remembered Kaden’s revelations. Suddenly he felt a compulsion to tell Lucas everything, but something stopped him.

  “Kaden wants the location of the base,” replied Amias.

  “I know,” came the reply.

  “You can never give it to him. No matter what he threatens, to you… or to me.”

  There was no reply. “Lucas, are you still there?”

  “Yes, I’m still here.”

  “Did you hear what I said?” persisted Amias.

  A few moments of silence passed. “I’ve never wanted to believe in you, Amias. We’re probably as different as two people can be. I think you’re reckless and headstrong, and you have little regard for authority and a plan. I’ve watched you avoid responsibility and throw back any faith the altéré have put in you. You squander your gifts and abilities and don’t value your team’s belief and admiration.” Lucas paused. “But for some reason I still do believe in you. I can’t entirely explain why – possibly with all the things I’ve just mentioned, somewhere in there you can fight against Kaden on a level nobody else can. I think possibly an entire army of people couldn’t do what I think you can, and kill Kaden. I know what you’re asking of me, but I have to ask myself what John would want.”

  Amias sensed something different in his voice, even though they were separated by the wall. “I
know people have a belief in me, but it’s misplaced. They think I’m special but I’m not. My life isn’t worth the death of hundreds. If I were to fight against Kaden I would be killed. He’s too powerful, too well-trained. John is the person you need to put your faith in. I will only let you down and disappoint you. I know my responsibility now – it’s to do the right thing for once. This is my chance to make recompense for the mistakes I’ve made and the people I’ve failed.” There was silence from the other side of the wall and Amias wasn’t sure how many minutes passed. Finally, a response came.

  “What’s John’s real name?”

  Amias laughed out loud. “I don’t know, he’s never told me.”

  “He doesn’t look like a John,” replied Lucas.

  “When we get out of here, we’ll ask him.” When there was no response he closed his eyes, and for the first time in a long time he felt the smallest glimmer of hope.

  *

  “Amias… Amias, wake up. Are you dead?”

  Amias opened his eyes and smiled. He hadn’t dreamed it. “I’m still here, unfortunately.”

  “I’m glad. Can we talk?” asked Lucas.

  “Yes. What do you want to talk about?”

  “About you. We’ve never talked before.”

  Amias frowned. “Can’t we talk about something else?”

  “Please,” came the sincere response.

  “What do you want to know?”

 

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