Fire and Smoke

by Mark Ayre

  She needed more data.

  The demonic shapes had vanished. Glancing at the sky revealed fading flames. Until they were gone, shield conjuring was too risky. Eve couldn’t afford to leave her body.

  Quickly, she poked her head around the door, then retreated.

  She’d spied two agents—one by the stairs, one by a coffee shop’s shutters. Neither was watching the door. Whoever was had to be standing at a tight angle to the entrance.

  She stepped back from the door, then away from the wall. Arcing further, she placed herself beyond the door watcher and coffee-shop guy’s field of vision. She aimed at the back of the stair watcher’s head.

  As though sensing her, he began to turn.

  Bang.

  The bullet drove his head into the wall.

  “What the hell?”

  That was the door watcher, surrendering his location. Amateur. Eve took two steps to the left as the coffee-shop agent raised his gun and ran.

  With three bullets, she hit wall, shoulder, and neck.

  Panicked, the door watched stepped away from the wall then, realizing the shots had to be coming from outside, returned to his position.

  Too late. As he rushed to reclaim his prime spot, Eve stepped inside and shot him twice in the chest.

  With one shot remaining in her second clip, Eve discarded it and reloaded.

  Shoving the pistol into her belt, she dashed across the room and threw her shoulder into the corner around which lay the toilet corridor. From her back, she swung the shotgun.

  Whispers reached her. Whoever stood by the bathrooms could see two of their dead comrades, not the shooter.

  Helping them out, Eve poked her head around the wall.

  A shot clanged out.

  Three of them. Two against one wall, one against the other.

  Through the window, the sky was bright blue. No demons haunted Eve’s peripheral.

  Leaving the wall, she sidestepped into their line of vision. As their shots hit her shield, she swung the shotgun to the right and fired.

  The gun might have been a cannon by the noise it produced. The recoil sent tremors up Eve’s arm, smashing against her shoulder as the shot’s spray tore into her first two targets.

  She dropped the shield. Having seen it in action, the third agent turned to run. Before he could reach the safety of the toilet, she cut him down.

  Eve’s shoulder throbbed. Her bones shook.

  She reloaded and swung the weapon onto her back, reverting to the handgun.

  The walls were smoking. Eve could hear the demons whispering, recalling her to hell.

  Ignoring them, she raised her gun and went to save her brother.

  When Adam was nine, following a particularly close call with their pursuers, his mother had dragged a beaten agent into their latest basement hideout.

  Adam carried Eve, whose soul had once again departed. After placing her on a mattress, he watched his mother tie the agent to a chair and add a silencer to his gun.

  Pressing the cold weapon into Adam’s clammy hand, she said, “Kill him.”

  The request should have been easy to fulfill. Adam hated the man. He loved his mother.

  Burning with shame, he let the gun fall limply by his side.

  “I can’t.”

  At first, his mother said nothing. More often than not, she could break him with her iron stare, no words necessary. Afraid she would do so, Adam shook his head and put the gun on the floor.

  Moving like lightning, she swept forward, grabbing the gun with one hand and Adam’s collar with the other.

  “This man was sent to capture you and your sister. Had he succeeded, he would have put a bullet in my head. You must kill him.”

  Adam knew his mother was right. He wanted to be strong. Tried to please her. All he could say was, “He can’t hurt us now.”

  “I can’t keep him tied up forever.”

  He hated himself. “I’m sorry.”

  “Your sister killed tonight,” she said. “She’s been killing for a year. Is it fair to keep asking her to do what you will not, simply because you are weak?”

  “I’m not Eve.”

  He wished he were. Eve was strong and fearless. She was their mother’s favorite.

  “Killing this man,” his mother said, “is the first step to becoming strong like your sister.”

  “What Eve does, she does in self-defense.”

  “Don’t be a child.”

  “I am a child.” Adam knew he was on the verge of tears. He could not hide the way his eyes shimmered. Whenever he let emotion get the better of him, his mother went one of two ways. Usually, she turned violent.

  This day, her visage softened. She approached Adam, reaching out to stroke his cheek. Tipped his chin until he was looking into her eyes.

  “Sweetie, your heart is too large. You care too easily for strangers, and you are unable to kill those who would do us harm. These traits don’t mesh. One day, someone you care for will die because of someone you are unable to kill.”

  Nearly twenty years later, Caldwell pulled Bethany close and pressed the barrel harder into her temple.

  His mother had held the gun to Adam.

  “It’s always self-defense, sweetie. They want to capture you. Every time you eliminate one, you’re defending yourself. Your sister has found the strength, the courage, to do what must be done. Will you? For me, will you at least try?”

  Bethany was crying. Having her life threatened multiple times had not inoculated her against its terrifying effects.

  To his mother, Adam had said, “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  She had lifted the gun then. Shot and killed the agent.

  “Pathetic,” she said. “Your heart is your weakness. It will get those you care about killed. It will get you and your sister captured.”

  “Let her go,” Adam said to Caldwell. His weakness had gotten his mother killed. It would do the same to Bethany.

  As though she could read his mind, Caldwell said, “You’re pathetic,” and directed her remaining agent. “Shoot him.”

  The agent nodded, lifted his gun, and took a bullet to the head.

  Eve appeared around the corner, pistol drawn.

  If anyone could read his mind, it was his sister.

  “Mum was wrong about you,” she said. “So is this bitch. You’re strong. You’re my strength, and you’re the only humanity this duo has. That’s not a weakness. It’s your greatest strength. Without it, there’d be no point in running. So do what you do best, Adam. Save the innocent.”

  She was right.

  “Listen to yourselves,” Caldwell said. “There is no point in running. Your lives are worthless, empty, and meaningless. Just give up. Give in. You’re finished.”

  So right.

  “I left my socks and shoes in the van.”

  “I’m ready,” Eve said.

  “Remember what I told you to remember,” Adam said.

  “Okay,” Bethany said.

  Caldwell snorted. “You’ve gone mad. If you think—”

  The building vanished.

  Caldwell jumped.

  Bethany elbowed her in the face before diving to the side.

  “You little—”

  Eve shot her in the neck.

  With a flash of agony, Adam blacked out.

  Rising, Bethany bolted across the room, knocking tables from her path in her hurry to reach Adam.

  Although she wasn’t sure they were safe, Eve holstered her pistol in her belt and dropped to her knees beside her brother.

  When she was nine, she returned from hell, shivering and full of self-loathing. In her absence, her brother and mother had settled in a basement. In the cot beside her, Adam slept, wet with a fearful sweat, and looking as miserable as she felt. In the stone room’s center, a dead man was tied to a chair. It was like their mother feared he might return as a zombie.

  Drenched in depression, Eve had risen and searched for a bathroom. When she returned, she fetched a glass of wa
ter. Turning to her mattress, she found her mother sitting beside her brother, stroking his hair.

  Rising, her mum said, “Fast asleep. So sweet.”

  Crossing to her daughter, she said, “You look troubled.”

  Eve did not like talking with her mother. Because she didn’t want to become a lab rat, she listened to the older woman’s wisdom and instruction, but there was little love between the pair. Adam was mum’s favorite.

  “Who was that?” Eve asked, pointing at the dead agent.

  “Scum,” her mother said. She sighed. “He was supposed to be an educational tool. He became target practice for your dear mum, and, as you know, I don’t need it.”

  “You wanted Adam to kill him.”

  “Clever girl. Indeed, I did, but he would not.”

  “Because he’s human.”

  Her mother gave a mocking smile. “We’re all human, Eve.”

  “Really?” Eve took a deep breath before releasing her deepest fear. “I think I’m a demon.”

  Her mother rolled her eyes before moving to the sink. After pouring a water, she returned.

  “You wish you were a demon,” she said. “Demons are evil. They have no conscience. Therefore, they are not responsible for their actions. You are human. As such, you believe you know right from wrong. You believe killing is wrong. Because of that, you fear, with each life you take, you sacrifice a little more of your humanity. Am I right?”

  Eve stared at the dead man. Although it was usually difficult to shut her up, she could not speak. She nodded.

  “Eve.”

  Her mother gripped her shoulder.

  “Tonight, you killed twenty men and women,” her mum said. “They would have had wives, husbands, and children. Hopes and dreams. Lives.”

  Eve jerked her shoulder free, her eyes wide with horror. She tried to fight the tears.

  “Let them go,” her mother said. “Before long, you won’t need to cry. You won’t feel love, guilt, or remorse. You will be stripped of humanity, but that’s a good thing. The result will be your ability to sacrifice the innocent and destroy the wicked to ensure your continued freedom. For the life you must lead, you will be perfect.”

  Eve did cry then. Her shoulders rose and fell as her mother stepped alongside her, so they were facing Adam.

  “I know it’s hard, darling,” she said. “You probably think it’s not worth going on at such a cost, but you’re wrong. I said you’d lose your humanity, but you’ll always have an anchor to empathy. Your brother’s not built like you. I can’t get him to shut off his heart, and you can tap into that. You’ll sacrifice your humanity and keep fighting to survive for him. For your brother. You’ll do it for—”

  “Adam.”

  Bethany shook his shoulders, then again. Gently, Eve placed her hands on Bethany’s, then lifted them away from her brother. He was covered in blood, his skin deathly pale.

  “He’ll be all right,” Eve said. “We just need to get him out of here.”

  “You saved us,” Bethany said. “You saved our lives.”

  “If you say so.”

  Occasionally, Eve tried to persuade herself her mother was wrong. She didn’t have to sacrifice her humanity to keep one step ahead of their pursuers. In aid of this goal, she would perform small acts of human kindness, like saving Bethany at the top of the building’s shell.

  It was a pointless smokescreen. She would have abandoned Bethany in the hotel. To save Adam, she had left her at the bottom of the construction site. Had she been in Adam’s position minutes ago, she would have shot Caldwell, regardless of the risk to Bethany’s life.

  For as long as she could remember, she had hated herself. She hated her mother, too, but her mum had been right.

  For Adam, it was worth it. If she loved nothing or no one else, she loved him. To keep him safe, she’d kill everyone on Earth.

  “Come on,” she said to Bethany. “We need to go.”

  Adam was taller than them and well-muscled. It took what felt like hours to get him to an SUV.

  Each time they passed a body, Bethany gasped, her eyes widening. This was distracting. Despite it, Eve heard the oncoming danger.

  The keys were in the ignition. They pushed Adam into the back, then closed the door.

  “Can you drive?” Eve asked.

  “I don’t want to drive.”

  “Not what I asked.”

  “I can, but—”

  “You’re driving.”

  Already at the passenger side, Eve got in, taking deep breaths, preparing. Motionless, Bethany stood by the driver’s door.

  “Hurry up, Bethany.”

  “Why do I have to drive?”

  “Because of them.”

  The cars appeared—ten of them, all in a row. Eve guessed Caldwell had pushed her panic button. These were the agents who had thought they were done, that they could clock off early.

  Instead, they would die.

  With a shriek, Bethany dived into the car. Fingers trembling, it took her several attempts to turn the keys in the ignition.

  The engine roared into life.

  “What now?” she asked.

  “Just drive,” Eve said. “Get us somewhere safe.”

  “Drive? But I—”

  “Do it.”

  Frightened by Eve’s cold tone, Bethany hit the accelerator, driving straight at the line of cars.

  Eve stared at the men and women behind the glass. Closed her eyes and whispered.

  “They’re cans. I’m a bomb.”

  She clicked her finger. The world set alight.

  Once again, she was dragged into hell.

  Adam was relieved to wake up. After turning the building invisible, he had been sure that his head had exploded Never had unconsciousness caused so much pain.

  Since waking a few hours ago, the pain had become a little easier to bear, though it still felt as though someone was taking a pickaxe to his skull, mining for gold. He supposed it would be several days before he felt normal again.

  One day, after pushing too hard, he would fall into a coma, or worse.

  A problem for another day.

  He popped a couple of paracetamol, then downed a glass of water. In the room next door, he heard Eve rise and breathed a sigh of relief. Though she always came back, he always feared she wouldn’t.

  A couple of minutes later, she joined him by the window. The view was not spectacular. They could see the sun setting over the drab grey buildings. The world was ugly, but sunsets were always beautiful.

  Or so Adam thought. Eve had never been so enamored.

  “Hey, a pub, grand.”

  He smiled at her. For a while, they stared at the horizon. Neither speaking. Both thinking.

  “So, what next?” Eve said at last. “Throw a dart at Google Maps and go wherever it points?”

  He didn’t need to respond. Eve sighed.

  “Different now, isn’t it?”

  “Think so,” he said.

  “I was hoping we’d stay free long enough to have a thirtieth birthday bash.”

  “Might still happen.”

  “Maybe.” She considered. After a while, she pulled a slip of paper from her pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to Adam. In a messy scrawl, an address was written.

  He gave her a questioning look.

  “Someone saved my life, then unleashed me on those bastards off the motorway. He gave me that. Reckon it’s our next stop.”

  The address meant nothing to Adam. He shrugged.

  Rolling her eyes, she opened the window and stuck her head out like a dog out a car. After a few seconds, she came back.

  “Well?”

  “Warm evening,” she said. “Reckon that pub has a garden?”

  “Looks the sort.”

  “They might come again tonight,” she said. “If we get pissed, we’ve got no chance of escaping.”

  “None,” Adam said.

  “Mother wouldn’t like it.”

  “Hate it,” he agreed.


  “Got any cash?”

  He patted his pockets. “A bit.”

  “All right then,” she said. “Guess the first round’s on you.

  Want more?

  The twins return in LOST AND FOUND, the second Adam and Eve thriller. Available now on Amazon via the link below, or save when you buy the complete Adam and Eve boxset, containing all six thrillers.

  Buy Lost and Found on Amazon:

  mybook.to/lostfoundadameve

  Buy the complete Adam and Eve boxset on Amazon:

  mybook.to/adamevebox

  Grab Your Free Thriller Novel

  To sign up for the Mark Ayre Reader’s Group and get your free copy of Hide and Seek, book one in a trilogy of gripping supernatural suspense novels, visit: markay.re/freehideandseek

  Author’s Note

  Back in the early months of 2020, I wrote Hide and Seek and Count to Ten, the first two novels in my Hide and Seek trilogy.

  I released both within a couple of weeks of each other in May. They were well received, and I was excited to write the final novel.

  But not right away. I love writing, but it’s always hard work. Even more so when writing several volumes of the same series in a row. I knew if the third volume was to hit the standards I wanted it to, I needed to take a break before I began.

  For me, a break means not lying on a beach, but starting something new. For some time, I’d had an idea for a story two siblings bearing great power, the use of which would cause them to suffer great consequence, on the run. Thus, in the aftermath of publishing Count to Ten, Adam and Eve were born.

  These would be shorter works, novellas rather than novels. Therefore, I decided I would write not one but three before embarking upon the third Hide and Seek novel.

  Then I got started. In a flash I had written the first two, and was captivated by the trials and tribulations Adam and Eve were facing. Rather than three, I decided I would write four, then get on to the final Hide and Seek novel.

  Now, here we are. As I sit at my desk, writing this introduction, I am part way through the sixth Adam and Eve thriller.