The Road To Avea

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The Road To Avea Page 34

by Lynn Lorenz


  Rolf caught a glimpse of Luci as the door closed behind them. His heart caught in his throat. He wouldn't allow himself to believe it would be the last time he'd ever see the woman he loved.

  * * * *

  They stood in a dark alley much like the one they'd just left on their world. The door remained visible on their side, but when Rolf tried to turn the knob, his hand passed through it. He turned and watched as Sarah looked up and down the narrow corridor. To their right was a wall that wasn't in their on-world alley. To the left, the alley emptied into a street where the soft glow of a streetlight dimly illuminated the night.

  "Remember to let me do the talking if we meet anyone. You're going to see many things you've never seen before and have lots of questions. I'll answer them if it's safe, without drawing attention to ourselves."

  Rolf nodded and ran a hand through his hair. He'd put his trust and life in Sarah's hands and hoped he wasn't wrong to do so.

  Sarah pulled the flashlight out of her backpack, turned it on, and began to search the alley as they walked down it. Rolf stared at the small, slender device in her hand. It threw light in a narrow beam, like sunlight through a break in the clouds. She played it along the bricks of the buildings.

  "See...here and here." Sarah pointed with the light to what looked like dark smudge marks on the bricks of the building. "He used his wand." She whispered into his ear. "I hope its majik wasn't detected."

  Rolf wondered how it would be detected, but saved the question for later. He had a feeling when this was over, he'd have more questions than time to ask them.

  They continued down the length of the alley and exited onto the street. Parked along the sides of the street were several large carriages, but there were no horses in sight. Rolf stared at them, his mouth open. Some of them were much larger than the biggest travel coach he'd seen.

  Sarah leaned over and took his arm. "I know it all looks strange, but try not to act like it."

  One went by, spewing foul fumes, and he watched it pass them and continue down the street. He grabbed her hand, pulled her close, and whispered hoarsely into her ear, "What majik is this, metal carriages without horses?"

  "It's called technology, Rolf, and it's no majik."

  "Right." He nodded, not understanding at all. "Tech-nol-o-gy." He tasted the odd word on his tongue. What a strange and wonderful place this is!

  Sarah stood still. He wished he knew what was going through her mind. His mind was a jumble of questions, suppositions, and amazements. Underlying all this newness was a deep river of fear. The people who lived here hated his kind, enough to kill him right here in the street, like some mad dog. If they also knew what he really was, would they kill him twice? He had to bite back the bark of his laugh at that thought.

  "I'll bet if you were running down this alley and came to the street it would be very hard to stop." She looked up and down and then stepped out into the road. "You'd probably continue running."

  She shone the flashlight across the street and found the dark opening to the opposite alley. "There. Stefan's man probably went down there."

  "Let's go, then." Rolf started to cross the street.

  "Wait. I want to make sure that's what happened."

  Holding the flashlight, she played it up and down the street, searching for a sign of what, he didn't know, but he watched her and focused his eyes at the ground to search, too.

  "Damn!"

  "What is it?" He hurried to her side.

  "Tire marks."

  Rolf looked at her, not understanding.

  She pointed out two parallel long black marks starting about ten feet farther down the road and ending about five feet past where they stood. She frowned and looked around for more evidence. He wanted to ask what tires were, but held that question and a dozen more.

  A lone piece of yellow material dangled from one of the large carriages she'd called a truck. She bent, tore it loose, and felt it between her fingers. There was black lettering on it, but he could only make out one word, "Line," on the tattered scrap before she pushed it into her pocket.

  She pointed. "Rolf, take that side of the street and search the gutters." Setting off on her side, head lowered, she hunted the ground.

  Rolf walked along the sidewalk, his eyes down also, wondering what the hell he was searching for, until he found it.

  "Sarah, here!" Stefan's long black wand lay in some litter against the edge of the raised sidewalk. Without a majikal person to weld it, it was nothing more than a piece of polished wood. Bending down, Rolf's fingers wrapped around the shaft and he picked it up. He wiped it off on his trouser leg and held it up for her to see as she crossed the street.

  "Lower it, fool! No one should see it!" she spit out.

  Quickly, he tucked it into his waistband and pulled his shirt out of his pants to hang loose over it. "Right!" Now that it was in the possession of a warlock, it gave off a subtle vibration of power. He glanced around and grabbed her hand. "Sarah, it's probably a good thing he lost his wand."

  She grimaced. "True, if they'd found it on him it would've meant certain death."

  Rolf swallowed. Now he held the deadly evidence. If they were stopped and searched or the wand detected ... He didn't want to continue down that dark alley of thoughts.

  Sarah held her breath and then released it in a long exhale. "There was an accident here. I believe he's been injured, Rolf. They'd have brought him to a hospital."

  "They?"

  "Medics."

  "Are you sure?" Rolf scratched his head, wishing Sarah would elaborate more when she spoke. This new curt way of speaking was difficult to follow and hard on his ears. His curiosity was rampant. Now he was here and seeing it for himself, he longed for answers.

  "Yo. Standard procedure. Secure and transport."

  "Standard procedure? Sarah, what were you here?" Rolf stared at her. Ever since they'd come through the portal, she'd acted like a different person in the way she spoke and even her manner was different. Sharper, rougher and much surer of herself.

  "I was a peacekeeper, Rolf. For a dec. Ten years." She didn't blink as she continued to stare at the ground, still searching. "This world's patrollers without the majik or the religion."

  Somehow, he wasn't surprised. Would it surprise Stefan?

  "First stop, the station for this district." She turned, stepped onto the sidewalk, and headed down the street. Rolf followed and tried not to gape at everything.

  They stood across the street from the large three-story building and spoke in lowered voices. Rolf kept glancing around, trying to take in all that was new and strange to him. The sign over the door said "Sector 98" and he supposed it was similar to a patrol station on-world.

  "Sarah, we aren't going to just go marching into that peacekeeper station, are we?" Rolf looked at her as if she were insane. "If they catch us..."

  "They have to find out who we are first. I'll do all the talking. Everything will be fine." Her reassurance would have to be good enough for now. He shrugged his shoulders and followed her.

  Sarah led the way up the steps, through the glass double doors of the station, and up to the front desk. Behind a large piece of glass was an officer wearing a blue uniform. Rolf tried not to marvel at the large expanse of smooth, clear glass. There were no frames or partitions to hold the glass together.

  Sarah rapped on the glass with her knuckles. "Pardon, Sergeant."

  The man looked up with a slight look of irritation at being interrupted. "Yo?"

  Sarah pressed a leather folder against the glass. The man's eyes scanned it. "Whatcha need, Detective Tallow?" The man's attitude was only a little more helpful.

  Rolf tried to keep from staring at Sarah and focused on the officer and their surroundings. As they stood at the counter, other blue uniformed men and women came through the doors, passed them without a glance, and entered another door at the back of the room. Rolf stepped closer to Sarah. There was a sign on the wall--No Spitting On The Floor. He wondered why anyone would
spit on the floor, much less in this place. Only the most uncouth of men would spit in public in his world.

  "Gotta hit and run? Two nights back. Round ten dark. Check on it?"

  "Sure."

  Rolf watched the man walk away. His eyes locked on the blue uniform and the heavy black weapon hanging in the wide leather holster at his hip. He'd never seen anything like it before and he couldn't even begin to wonder what kind of death it dealt, but he was sure it would not be anything he'd ever want to encounter.

  The officer disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a file folder. "Yo, two hit and runs."

  "Identified?"

  "Nope, no papers." He shook his head and looked up from the reports. "Gypsies and vagas. What's up?"

  "Case I'm working outta Haldar." The officer nodded, as if satisfied with her answer. Sarah had been right. Among everyone at Avalon, she was the only one who could cross the portal and survive in this strange world.

  An officer led a woman through the doors, her wrists behind her back, secured in small manacles. Most of her body was exposed, and Rolf's eyes widened in shock as he stared at her. Her large breasts were barely covered, and he could see the long stretch of her fleshy thighs from under a very short dress. She gave him a hungry smile, licked her lips, and winked at him. Rolf had a sudden coughing fit. Well, here was one thing the two worlds had in common.

  "Where'd they go?" Sarah craned her neck to see the folder. Rolf folded his arms and tried to look unconcerned as Sarah spoke to the officer.

  "Astrid General. Know it?"

  "Yo. Conditions?"

  "Nope. Sorry." He shrugged.

  "Thanks, Sergeant." She gave the counter a rap of her knuckles and turned to Rolf. Giving him a sharp jerk of her head in the direction of the front door, they left.

  Sarah and Rolf trotted down the stairs and to the street, his heart beating slower now that they were out of there.

  "He called you detective. Was that your rank?"

  "Yo, made detective last year back, before I blew town. Had some lucky breaks and passed the test." She shrugged it off.

  "What does detective equal in our world?"

  "Inspector."

  "You gave up your rank here and took a lesser rank with us, didn't you?"

  She nodded. "Trust me, it was a small sacrifice."

  Growing grim, he said, "What was that thing he carried? A weapon, of some sort, I'm sure, but I've seen nothing like it."

  "Semi-automatic."

  The words meant nothing to him. "It has an aura of danger about it." He glanced nervously back to the station as if someone might come running out and waving a semi-automatic at him.

  "It's very dangerous."

  "Did you carry one like it when you lived here?"

  "Yo." Her smile turned grim.

  "Can it kill?" Rolf looked into her eyes, trying to read the look in them.

  "Yo, it kills." She looked away.

  He'd seen the same sick look on Stefan's face and wondered what circumstances had forced her to kill and how many lives she'd taken.

  "I think I remember where Astrid General is located. Let's go."

  Together they walked in silence, Sarah intent on getting to the hospital and Rolf just as intent on taking in every detail he could while he was here. At one point, he stood in front of a building, trying to count the levels. When he lost count at twenty, Sarah dragged him off, while he walked backward, gaping like a peasant.

  I will never again think of Avea as a big city.

  At each corner they reached, Sarah watched for the traffic and took his hand as if he were a child to guide him across the streets. What she called cars, cabs, and trucks sped past them at incredible speeds, and with so much noise, his sensitive ears hurt.

  However, it was the amount of light that was the most astounding thing he saw. Lights lit the night, flashed off and on, proclaimed all sorts of stores, and in colors he'd never dreamed of, in some places as bright as daylight.

  There were people everywhere, walking alone, in pairs and in groups. Crowds of people, dressed in all manners of clothing, were all rushing to somewhere important, he supposed. Where at this time of night, he couldn't even guess.

  When they reached the multi-floored hospital, the building's windows were lit with what seemed like a hundred torches. As Sarah led him inside, they passed through doors that opened without any visible means, Rolf choked back a cry, turning it into a cough. Sarah went to an information desk and smiled at the woman in a white uniform sitting behind it.

  "Need some help. Husband's gone. Might be hit and run two nights back. Still here?"

  The woman started to speak, but one look at the determination on Sarah's face and she began to shuffle through some papers.

  "Identification?" The woman stared at Sarah.

  Rolf watched Sarah and kept quiet. She already had the backpack open and had pulled out a small brown leather folder different from the one she'd produced at the peacekeeper station. How many of the little folders did Sarah actually have in the backpack? She opened it, extracted a small card with a tiny image of her face on it and handed it to the woman. He tried to look uninterested and focused on a picture on the wall. When he realized what it was, he blinked. His head tilted as he read the labels.

  Lower intestine. Stomach. Pancreas.

  He turned back to Sarah, disgusted, yet fascinated, by the pictures. He looked again. Liver. Gall bladder. Kidney. He rubbed his stomach and grimaced.

  The nurse handed the card back Sarah. "Lemme check."

  Bladder. Urinary tract. Rectum. Shocked, Rolf tore his eyes from the picture. By the One God, did these people have no shame?

  Stepping to her file cabinet, the woman pulled open the top drawer. Rolf watched as she walked her fingers along the top of the files until she found the one she was searching for and pulled it. He couldn't help but stare at her long, dark red fingernails. He'd never seen nails grown so long or that color. They were like some cat's claws, and he glanced at her face to search for whiskers. Well, if he could be a werewolf, perhaps she could be a werecat. Finding the idea humorous, he snorted a laugh.

  "Yo. Report for the E.R. two dark back." She gave Rolf a look meant to silence him, opened the folder, and began to scan the pages, lifting them as she went. She looked up and set her blood red lips into a straight line. "First man. DOA. Sorry."

  The color drained from Sarah's face. She clutched his arm in a tight grip and closed her eyes.

  Rolf leaned over to her. "What does that mean?"

  "Dead on arrival," she said.

  Chapter 28

  "It's not him or I'd know it." Sarah straightened. "Second man?" She leaned forward on the desk.

  The woman lifted another page and ran her finger down it.

  "Yo. Treated in emergency room. Moved upstairs afterward. Still here."

  Sarah let out the breath she was holding, and Rolf grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "Can I do an I.D.?"

  "Lemme call up to the nurses' station." She picked up the phone, tapped the button a few times, and waited.

  "Third floor nurses' station?"

  Rolf's eyes widened as he watched the woman speak into the odd device. She could hear from it, and speak into it, but not see whom she was talking to on the other end.

  Not as good as our communication mirrors, he thought with a touch of pride.

  "Third floor? Got someone to do an I.D. on John Doe." She listened. "Yo. Coming up."

  She turned back to Sarah, placing the phone back in its cradle.

  "Elevators, third floor. See the nurse on duty." The woman pointed down the long hallway.

  "Thanks!" Sarah gave the woman a nod, took Rolf by the hand, and led him away.

  "Who is John Doe? We're looking for Stefan Bane." Rolf shook his head in dismay.

  "When a man is unidentified here, he's referred to as John Doe. Or Jane Doe, if it's a woman." Sarah pushed the button, crossed her arms, and waited. Rolf looked at the large door in front of them, crosse
d his arms in a mimic of Sarah, and waited, too. A light above it came on, a bell chimed, and the door opened, sliding to one side.

  "Come on." Sarah stepped in and spun around. Rolf followed. The door slid shut behind him.

  She reached out and pressed a button on a large panel. Each button had a number on it. One. Two. Three. Four. And two other buttons--Stop and Alarm.

  The button with the number three on it lit up and the box they stood in began to move. Rolf flung his arms out to brace himself against the walls and laughed. "It moves!"

  "Yes. Up and down, to each floor," Sarah tossed over her shoulder at Rolf, now standing behind her.

  When the lighted button turned dark, the box stopped moving and the door slid open again.

  "We get off here." Sarah stepped out, and Rolf followed, wondering if he would get another ride in the box. It wasn't as fast as a teleport, but he could see it was a device that allowed those without the skill to move quickly between floors.

  Technology. There might be something to this after all.

  She looked down the hall and spotted the station. A woman in a white dress moved about behind the counter. The nurse, Rolf guessed correctly this time.

  "Pardon. Here for John Doe."

  The woman looked at her and nodded. "Yo. Got the call." Returning with a chart, she glanced over it, and clucked her tongue. "John Doe's real bad off. Hit by a truck. Entire right side damaged. Broken leg, arm, wrist, ribs, cheek, and nose."

  "No brain injuries?"

  "Not that we can tell. 'Course, we'll know more when he wakes."

  Sarah licked her lips, tightened her hands into fists, and raised her chin. "Need to see him. Need to know if he's my husband."

  "Come on." The nurse led her down the hall to a room. As she pushed the door open, the nurse stepped inside.

  Sarah hesitated on the threshold, then entered the dimly lit room. A small gasp escaped her, but she clamped it off. Rolf's eyebrows jerked upward as he clutched Sarah's hand, more to steady himself than her.

  Stefan lay in the bed, a light above him illuminating his almost unrecognizable face. One side hid beneath a bandage and the area they could see around the other eye was a sickly mixture of yellow-green, purple and blue. The contrast of his ebony hair spread over the white pillowcase was stark. The sheet covering his body rose and fell in odd places.

 

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