CHAPTER 26 — GONE
Jane entered the main section of the warehouse below just as the ground beneath them started to shake. There was a rumbling sound, like a minor earthquake, but Jane thought that unlikely. She felt the vibrations run up her legs and into her torso as the foundations of the structure itself began to rattle. She looked to the others, who were glancing around and reaching out for each other in confusion. One of the windows in the ceiling cracked and the glass shattered, falling on the concrete floor with a crash at the opposite side of the dark, open space.
Jane looked to Max, who was looking into the air with an expression of pure fear. His mouth opened and closed as he swallowed in an inflection that struck Jane as extremely human. She was sure she could see defiance intermingled with his fear.
She turned to see what he was looking at. There was a large window that she hadn’t noticed on the front wall of the building. It was positioned about forty feet above the entrance. As she looked through it, she could make out the impression of someone floating in the air towards the warehouse. It seemed that the figure was cloaked in a dark mist that gave the appearance of an unusual, long black cloak. However, the garment was formless and its edges seemed to snake around this individual like films of dark liquid. Jane got the distinct impression that the figure was female.
The warehouse and the ground beneath them shook more violently now, and shrieks of panic came from some of her friends. She walked over and stood next to them. They had huddled together to form a circle as Max walked in front of them and towards the window above.
I’m going to be taken now, Jane. Whatever happens, I’ll try to make it back. I promise. As he turned and looked at her, his eyes appeared as black as stones. She could see a solid determination in them. Keep them safe, he said and smiled at her. A second later he was ripped backward from his navel. There was a swishing sound as his arms and legs flew forward, then he disappeared entirely.
A very brief trace of what appeared to be smoke remained in the space where he had been; then that vanished just as quickly. Jane was about to scream out for him, but there was no point; he was gone. She could feel it. She could not sense his presence anywhere on the psychic plane. The trembling from beneath her feet stopped as suddenly as it had begun. She looked up through the window again and saw through its filth-caked surface that the sky was clear. She gasped as the full realisation that he was gone descended upon her.
She looked around at her friends and noticed that Ciara was looking towards the floor, concentrating. She could almost feel it as she looked at her; Ciara’s mind was reaching out, and a new worry swept over Jane.
“Jane,” Ciara said, still looking at the ground, “we can’t stay here.”
Jane looked to Morris as he approached and put his hand on her shoulder. She rubbed her eyes, willing them to stay open a little longer. She wanted to stop running. She wanted to lie on the floor below her—anywhere, in fact—and sleep. She briefly thought of the beach in Wexford and the cabin. She thought of how comforted she had been there. Then the image of the ocean came to mind—the glass-like surface of the water stretching on into forever. Her cells drank in the strength this image reflected back to her, and she looked back up, facing her friends.
“Okay. Where do we go?”
They looked around at each other until Morris spoke up. “The city. It’s our best bet. They tracked us too easily here, but we have a better chance of hiding there. There will be too many minor psychic signatures in the background for them to track us properly.”
“Okay,” Jane replied, not having any better suggestions. “That’s where we’ll go.” She looked around at their tired, dejected faces. “I know we’re all tired,” she said, “but we just have to push on a bit longer. Then we can find a more permanent place to stay.” She detected a spark of anger inside her, but left it alone for the moment. She had a feeling if she struck at it, she would not be able to quell it. “Ciara, how long until they get here?”
Ciara appeared to focus tremendously and her eyes glazed over. “It’s hard to say,” she replied after a moment. “They’re getting close, though. Maybe forty minutes or so.”
“Then we can’t wait. Everyone get into the truck now,” Jane said. She watched as they left the warehouse one by one. She was following Ciara out the door when she realised Michael was trailing behind. He stopped and surveyed his surroundings for a moment. Then he looked up at her.
“Wait,” he said.
He walked over to the ground level of the office above where Jane had had her starlit discussion with Max. Then he stopped. Jane watched as he concentrated on the glass in the front section of the office. The window broke and clattered to the floor, breaking into pieces. She flinched at the sound, knowing she was now running on adrenaline alone. She watched as he tore a piece of fabric from his shirt and placed it flat on the floor. Then he took some of the larger shards of glass and wrapped them in the fabric. He tied it at the top and took it with him as he followed Jane through the door.
“What are you going to do with that?” she asked.
“We might need it,” he replied simply.
She decided not to question him further. The idea of sharp glass to be used as projectile weapons made her wince, so she followed him out in silence
Once again, Jane got into the front section of the truck next to Morris. She took his hand and felt the comforting warmth move up through her arm. However, she was also desperately aware of the fact that Max was no longer with them. She had an inkling of what had happened: whatever problems were going on between him and the others of his kind had finally come to a head. Now he would have to answer for his interfering actions.
For a moment, Jane was afraid for him; then she remembered her feelings about him from when she had first encountered him in those dreams that, in their essence, seemed so primordial to her now—he was powerful. That’s what she had thought about him then, and the memory of that feeling came back now and electrified her. She also remembered what he had done to those men in the house in Wexford, small though his effect on the world had been. She had the feeling that, somehow, he would be okay.
Morris put the truck into gear and drove out of the parking lot and onto the main road. He told her it would take a few hours to get to the city. They planned to ditch the vehicle when they got to the outskirts, then make the rest of the way on foot until they reached the subway.
Relaxation was difficult. Jane closed her eyes in exhaustion, but her mind would not stop working. She lay back against the comfortable seat and tried to sleep. A few times she approached sleep and the driftings of a mild hypnagogic state. However, then she would think of Max and his own struggles—somewhere a vast distance from her—and would wake with a gasp. She had resigned herself to not sleeping properly when she finally nodded off thirty minutes later.
Michael looked through a gap in the tarp at the black road as it passed by rapidly below them. There weren’t many cars on the road. He scanned each one as much as he could as it passed. He knew he was probably being overly cautious, and he could feel Ciara’s gaze on him.
Why don’t you take it easy for a while? she asked. Most of them had fallen asleep on each other’s shoulders. Ciara was seated in the back corner with somebody’s jacket laid over her.
I can’t. You said it yourself, he said, then paused, scanning farther into the dark night where the end of the road met the horizon in the distance. They’re coming. And it’s not like it was in the facility, Ciara. It’s not going to be like that. There will be more of them, and they will be bringing greater firepower. He looked back and saw her eyes narrow in the dim light.
Well…I feel sorry them, and what they’re going to come upon this evening, she said.
He smiled, and this broadened to a smirk.
Anyway, she continued, there’s not much we can do about it now, and you need to rest.
His smile faded and a solemn expression stole over his face once again as his gaze drifted away from hers and back to the
road.
How far ahead of them are we? Can you tell? I can’t. He looked at her as she focussed, her eyes going to that distant place they always did when she scanned.
It seems—feels—like maybe thirty miles.
He exhaled and covered the back of the truck with the tarp again. Then he lay against the seat. Beside him, he felt for the pouch that was filled with glass. He knew what he was planning to do with it, but even that was a shot in the dark—if and when they caught up to them. His eyes darted around the back cabin in the dark, trying to make out the faces of the people who were now his best kin. The man whom he had so recently been introduced to, Max, was gone. Michael had seen him taken from the warehouse. It had been one of the strangest things he had ever witnessed.
Finally, the need for sleep overcame him and he drifted off.
The Ethereal Vision Page 50