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Fire and Smoke

Page 4

by Mark Ayre


  “That sounds awful.”

  He stopped at the foot of her road.

  “What happens to Eve is worse.”

  He met her eyes, which were mingled with excitement and fear. “What’s that?”

  “Her spirit is ripped from her body,” Adam said, “and dragged into hell.”

  In an endless landscape, flames and ice locked in eternal battle. Twisted, demonic forms, some man-sized, some monolithic, clashed, tearing each other to shreds.

  Through the middle of the war wound a single, untouched path. Heads hung, skin grey and sagging, lines of miserable humans trooped through the mayhem, toward a mountain. Steep steps led to a castle, within which were countless devices of torture; plenty of demons skilled in their use.

  From the castle’s balcony, hands on the waist-high stone wall, Eve watched.

  An arch behind her led to a grand bedroom, fit for a king. From within came a tall man of an indescribable beauty that clashed with his boundless cruelty.

  Reaching Eve, he placed hands on her shoulders. Leaning in, he whispered in her ear.

  At his words, she closed her eyes and shuddered.

  Earthside, there was nothing she didn’t share with Adam. Of her experiences in hell, she was always vague, even when pressed.

  The man at her shoulders whispered, “Soon.”

  Eve didn’t know what he meant. She prayed she would never find out.

  At her front door, Adam pulled Bethany back.

  “Your parents will have questions,” he said. “If you hang around, you’re putting them in danger.”

  “I know.”

  “Get packed and go. It has to be that simple.”

  “Fine. Wait here?”

  Adam nodded. He turned in time to see a man holding a gun appear around the corner of the house.

  Years on the run had sharpened his spider-sense. He had never been as quick to sense danger as his sister.

  He was not fast enough outside Bethany’s house.

  The man shot him in the neck.

  His knees buckled. Within seconds, the world went black.

  As Adam fell, the front door opened. Caldwell appeared.

  “Bethany, your parents are inside. Why don’t you join us? You—” she pointed at her agent. “Take the twins and—” Staring at Adam, her eyes scanned the drive before filling with fire.

  “Um, where’s the girl?”

  When Eve awoke, she immediately knew she was alone.

  It wasn’t the silence or the dark. Adam’s absence was like a weight upon her chest. It was unnatural.

  Having spent their lives on the run, unable to form long-lasting bonds, getting on was a necessity, if life were to be tolerable. Luckily, they loved each other. Before siblings, they were best friends. They needed each other.

  They did not spend every second together. They did not share a room every night. Inadvisable as it was, Adam, unable to master his heart, had embarked upon a few short-term relationships over the years and had fallen once. Eve contented herself with one-night stands.

  But that was normal times. It had been fifteen years since she had woken from one of her sojourns into hell and found Adam missing. That had been different. Despite knowing Eve would need him, their mother had sent Adam away. She sat waiting on a stool for Eve to wake. When Eve did, mother noted the lost look in her daughter’s eyes as she sought Adam.

  “Better get used to his absence. One day, your inability to control that temper will get him killed.”

  The referenced temper flared at the memory. Eve dropped her head into her hands, trying to shove away any thoughts of her mother. It was better when it was just the two of them. Unlike Adam, Eve had never wasted time mourning the loss of the only parent they’d known.

  Only when she put her hand to the ground in aid of standing did she notice the balled handkerchief. Adam had owned it for a long time. He often used it as a signal.

  Because she knew him as well as she knew herself, something so simple said so much.

  He was sorry, and he would be back as soon as possible. He hadn’t anticipated she would wake before he returned. Usually, she was gone longer. If she did wake, he wanted her to wait.

  Right now, he would be escorting the receptionist home. Knowing her life might well be in danger, he would help her pack and flee. Because of his big, soft, stupid heart, he jeopardized the freedom they had spent their lives fighting to protect to ensure some nobody remained safe.

  Overcome by fury, she tossed the handkerchief into the corner.

  He wanted her to stay put.

  Unconcerned about whoever might be in the house up the path, Eve slammed open the shed and stepped outside.

  Unconcerned about whoever might be in the house up the path, Caldwell slammed open the shed and stepped inside.

  Outside, Bethany waited with Adam’s shooter.

  Ten seconds later, Caldwell’s bony fingers grabbed Bethany’s company-issued blouse and yanked her into the close space. A second after that, her back was against the wall, dust raining upon her. Spiderwebs tangled in her hair.

  Adam’s shooter stepped inside, then closed the door.

  “It looks like you were mistaken,” Caldwell said.

  As though the statement was unclear, she waved a hand, indicating how empty of passed-out women the shed was.

  Though she could tell at a glance Eve had gone, Bethany scanned each corner, as though she might find Adam’s powerful sister hiding beneath a floorboard.

  What she saw told her, if nothing else, this was the right shed. When she pointed, Caldwell turned. Her man bent, then collected the handkerchief.

  “Need to blow your nose?” Caldwell said.

  “Adam was using that,” Bethany said. “He scrunched it in Eve’s hand before we left.”

  “Fascinating.”

  “I was sure she’d be here,” Bethany pleaded. “She looked dead. Her eyes were open, but she wasn't moving. I don’t know how she woke up.”

  “Maybe she didn’t,” Caldwell said, slamming Bethany against the wood. “Maybe rats carried her off.” Slammed her again. “I don’t care. All that matters is she’s…” Again. “Not…” Again. “Here…” Again. “Now…” Again. Again. Again.

  Caldwell released her. Bethany collapsed, dizzy, hurting. Above her, the agent took deep breaths, trying to regain her calm.

  “It’s not my fault,” Bethany said. “Please, I brought you to where she was. I did as you asked. Please don’t… please don’t…”

  She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

  Calmer, Caldwell lowered until she was hovering above Bethany on the balls of her feet. She rubbed the receptionist’s back. Pasted a smile across her face that looked more deranged than comforting.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you tried. It would be grievously unfair to follow through with my threat when this is quite clearly not your fault.”

  Patting the girl, she rose.

  “Thank you,” Bethany said.

  “Quite all right.” Caldwell turned to her colleague. “Just the mother then. What do you reckon?”

  “No.” Bethany tried to rise, to grab Caldwell, but the guy kicked her chest. Back on the floor, she burst into tears.

  “Don’t be such a baby,” Caldwell said. “You’re an adult. You shouldn’t need parents. I’m leaving you with a surplus. That’s great kindness and more than you could expect, given my mood. I’m in a lot of trouble, you know?”

  Bethany couldn’t respond. She buried her head into the floorboard as though all this would go away if only she ignored it long enough. She cried. For a long while, there was silence from above.

  At last, Caldwell said, “Gee, if you’re going to be a wuss, maybe we can work something out.”

  Forcing herself to stop sobbing, Bethany raised her head, peered at Caldwell through bleary eyes. There was that horrible fake smile.

  “Anything,” she said.

  “Bethany,” Caldwell said. “You have no idea how glad I am to
hear you say that. Here, take my hand.”

  Although she could think of nothing worse than touching the vile woman, Bethany allowed Caldwell to drag her up. Once standing, Caldwell smoothed Bethany’s blouse. Taking the handkerchief from her colleague, she rubbed the tears from Bethany’s cheeks with what might be described as excessive force.

  “Much better,” she said. “Now, take deep breaths and return to the van. Just make sure you’re nice and calm when you arrive. There’s someone I need you to call.”

  When the phone rang, Eve didn’t bother checking the screen. Each new town bought a new burner—usually more than one. Unlike Adam, Eve never gave the number to anyone but him, though many men had asked for her digits.

  At the end of the line was Adam or a cold caller. Either one deserved her ire.

  “What?”

  “Eve? It’s Bethany.”

  Between her hands, Eve’s coffee seemed to grow hotter. As her skin began to pinken, she realized she was gripping the porcelain tighter and tighter. It probably wouldn’t smash. If she weren’t careful, an invisible force would tear the cafe to pieces. She would return to hell.

  Adam had told Bethany they only killed in self-defense. He had omitted the other cause—manslaughter.

  It wasn’t only the uncomfortable floors that prevented Eve from sleeping.

  “Scared to talk to me himself, is he? Knows I’m going to rip his head off verbally before I do it physically?”

  “No, I…”

  “Spit it out.”

  It was not Bethany’s fault Adam had saved her from being raped. Nor that Adam had insisted on leaving Eve to wake alone while he helped the receptionist get to safety. Knowing this did not curtail Eve’s growing anger at the girl.

  “I’m sorry,” Bethany said. “They’ve got Adam.”

  The world seemed to stop. The bustling crowds fell silent, and everything blurred.

  Bethany continued.

  “If you don’t agree to their demands, they’re going to kill him.”

  “You did well,” Caldwell said. “I won’t kill your parents.”

  “Thank you,” Bethany said. “Can I go home?”

  Somehow, she had kept it together on the call, though she was falling apart. She feared for Adam, but there was nothing she could do. More than anything, she wanted to go home, hug her dad and mum, and sleep for a week. Try to forget the madness.

  Caldwell had a hand on her arm. There was that smile again.

  “You should be proud,” she said. “You saved your parents and helped apprehend two incredibly dangerous individuals. You must remember that. Be happy.”

  The van rolled on. In the distance, poking into the sky, was the shell of a building. The construction of what would soon be a twenty-story office block. There they would capture Eve.

  “I’ll walk,” Bethany whispered. The car’s atmosphere felt heavy, choking.

  “You can’t go home,” Caldwell said. “You’ve done superbly, truly you have.”

  She patted Bethany’s knee.

  “But you still have to die.”

  Eve loathed leaving a coffee unfinished. At the end of the call, she stood, took three quick steps from her two-person table, and stopped.

  People were looking. Avoiding their eyes, she retook her seat. The coffee was still hot, but it was no longer piping. She tried not to rush. If she’d had water, she would have downed it and run.

  The instructions were simple. At a construction site, they would meet. After sedating her, they would transport the twins to a facility run by the organization that had been after them since they were tiny.

  If she refused, they would kill her brother.

  Or so they said.

  It seemed unlikely. Apparently, Eve was the prize they most coveted. Even so, if she fled, would they rather return to their superiors with just Adam or empty-handed?

  Unbidden, another sermon of her mother’s floated to mind.

  “Learn everything I teach you, play it smart, always be ready, and you shouldn’t ever get caught. If one of you does, the other must flee. Better they have one than both.”

  Learning was not application. Adam ignored his mother’s teachings to save the girl, as Eve would to save her brother.

  Her coffee was almost gone. Five minutes had passed since the call terminated. Had she left as soon as she put away the phone, temper, rather than reason, would have led her to the construction site. That way lay defeat. Either her anger would make her sloppy and she would be caught, or she would destroy the place, leaving her body for easy capture.

  By the time the coffee was gone, she had control of herself. Determined though she was, it took courage to disobey her hateful mother’s rules.

  She had no choice.

  On her way from the cafe, she placed her empty cup on the counter and thanked the barista. On the high street, she shielded her eyes and looked over the rooftops to the construction site, perhaps a mile away.

  Eve had to hold her temper. She couldn’t afford to use her powers to any significant degree. On her own, she would be hopelessly exposed to the might of the organization.

  Regardless, she would save her brother.

  Whatever it took.

  Eve departed the cafe, pausing in the doorway as though posing for a surveillance shot.

  Donnelly had seen plenty of those of the twins. They were an attractive duo, taking after their mother.

  These days, surveillance photos offered fantastic quality. Still, the reality was something else. Seeing the girl in the flesh sent his heart racing. He tried to picture what she’d be like if she weren’t on the run, harried, in baggy clothes. Stress caused lines. Donnelly’s job could be plenty stressful. That was why he ended every day with meditation and yoga, which he believed would undo the aging effects of his shifts. In his bathroom, he kept a menagerie of different creams and gels, which helped keep him looking young.

  If he caught Eve at a better time, if he bumped into her on the street when she wasn’t actively running from anyone, or trying to save her brother, would she fancy him?

  Of course she would.

  If only he could put it to the test.

  He watched her start down the street. One sibling wasn’t enough. Much as he would have liked to collect Eve, if only for some alone time, he hopped into his car and closed the door.

  He knew where Eve was going. He endeavored to get there first.

  Caldwell believed she was about to win the ultimate prize.

  She was to suffer her greatest defeat.

  “Hello, Adam, my name’s Caldwell. I’m so pleased to meet you.”

  A couple of times, Adam had been knocked unconscious. Upon waking, he had suffered splitting headaches and nausea. Once, he had been sick, and it had taken hours to recover normality.

  When he pushed too hard with his powers and blacked out, waking up was much the same as if an assailant had clubbed him into darkness, with a few bonuses. It often took a few minutes for his sight to return. Twenty was the record. A couple of times, he had thrown up with such force, he feared his stomach lining had been torn free and forced through his mouth.

  He knew nothing about the dart, other than waking from its effects was far more pleasant than was waking after a vicious attack or power overload. It was like having a couple of pints while exhausted. Sitting on the sofa, drifting in and out. At first, Caldwell shimmered before him. Though she was an agent of evil, he couldn’t help but smile.

  “I hope you had a pleasant sleep,” his captor continued. “My colleagues think I should give you another dose of our special potion, allow you some more shut-eye. I’d much rather you were awake for what happens next.”

  Awash with happiness, Adam’s years of training under his hard mother fought for control of his mind. Still smiling, he knew he had to kill Caldwell. As she began to solidify, he realized she had a slim, long neck. Perfect for throttling.

  He tried lifting his hands. Something was wrong.

  “Handcuffs,” Caldwell ex
plained. “You aren’t your sister, so I feel safe having you chained. You’re more than welcome to turn invisible. So long as you can’t move, it won’t help you.”

  The happy haze was fading. Glancing down, Adam saw a chain securing both hand and foot cuffs to an iron ring on the floor. He could lift his hands only so far as his chest. On a metal chair, he was immobilized.

  It was most uncomfortable.

  “For years, people in my position have attempted to capture you and your sister,” Caldwell said. “When you were children, they thought it would be simple, but your mother was an exceptional woman. She kept you out of harm’s way. With her gone, you two cut loose, they were sure you would grow sloppy, slip up. They were wrong. Again and again, they failed. Know why?”

  She leaned forward, taunting him. Knowing the maths, she could bring her head within an inch of his reach. At a stretch, he might scratch her nose. He would never catch her. He leaned back, refusing her the satisfaction she craved.

  She chuckled. “They went for a smash and grab. They added more fighters, more firearms, believing they’d eventually overwhelm you. They never could, never would. Your mother trained you too well. Am I right?”

  Adam said nothing. Didn’t even bow his head in the hint of a nod. The happiness was gone. He understood his situation. Bleaker than ever before.

  “That’s also how I began my operation,” Caldwell said. “Smash and grab. But I had a more nuanced plan B. The smash-and-grab plan A led you into the trap of plan B. Know what that was?”

  Adam did. He said, “My sister’s going to kill you.”

  “Wrong. I used your inability to abandon a damsel in distress to capture you. I’ll use Eve’s love for her brother to capture her. Within minutes, I will have achieved what so many have failed.”

  “Or she’ll free me,” Adam said. “And I’ll kill you.”

  Caldwell chuckled. From under her non-chained chair, she withdrew a brown sack.

 

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