Trunks of Ages: The Seven Seals

by Mary Beth Frank

  Chapter 16 The attack

  Sebastian, Marshall, Ethan, and Makayla got off the bus at the Atlantic Avenue station, or as the locals call it South Station, in downtown Boston. They quickly dodged the other passengers, trying to avoid attracting attention. Marshall nearly collided with a large, overweight woman who was pulling her suitcases behind her. She had stopped suddenly to figure out where she needed to go to get directions. But this is how it was everywhere they turned. People were going every which way, moving at a quick pace, not bothering to look at anyone while they focused on getting to their destination points. People pushed past each other, without so much as an apology. Sebastian suddenly remembered why he liked living in a smaller town. Finally they made their way out of the congestion and headed out the station's front doors. He was pushing through the glass revolving door, when he saw the boy from the bus standing by the info map in the main lobby glaring in their direction. His friends weren't anywhere, making it seem as if he was waiting on them to return from somewhere. The boy folded his arms over his chest, not breaking his gaze toward Sebastian. Makayla was still waiting her turn to get through the glass doors. Panic shot through his entire body, not sure what to do. Obviously, the boy wasn't relenting; probably too humiliated about what happened on the bus to let it go. He turned to motion for Makayla to come over by him, but she was still on the other side of the revolving doors fishing through her purse for something. Go figure! She wasn't paying any attention to him, not looking up to notice his desperate attempt to remain calm. Suddenly a very familiar black T-shirt caught his peripheral vision. Cyrus was coming down the escalator, flipping through his iPod. He looked up and caught eyes with Sebastian, giving him a slight nod. Sebastian nodded his head toward the boy in the lobby. Cyrus looked over, his mouth turning down at the corners. He walked off the escalator, when through a second set of revolving doors, and stopped two feet from the boy. A strange sensation of relief washed over him, not entirely sure why this brooding stranger was so eager to help them out. Makayla, still completely oblivious, spun through the revolving door at last, putting on some pink glittery lip gloss. Sebastian nearly lost it, but then figured it was probably better that she didn't know.

  The boy on the bus watched them leave, but seemed to be more furious than ever having Cyrus so close to him.

  Once outside on the sidewalk, Sebastian suddenly realized he wasn't sure where they were. With all the drama on the bus, they hadn't looked at their maps to figure out how to get to the hotel. It was just after eight a.m., and they were tired, dirty and hungry. Nothing familiar, in the way of food, stuck out to him. Frustrated that he hadn’t thought to stop at one of the many kiosks in the station, he knew they couldn’t go back inside. His stomach screaming at him in neglect, he finally saw a sign down the street that read “Smoothie Squeeze.” They had to do something to kill time before they could check in at the hotel, and sightseeing was not at the top of the list right now.

  “Let's go over there and get some breakfast.” Sebastian pointed to the juice store's sign.

  “Do they have anything to eat?” Marshall was grabbing his stomach.

  “I don't know. I have some stuff in my pack if they don't. Let’s just go and check it out.”

  They crossed Atlantic and headed south to the store. The smoothie store didn't have much in the way of food, but Sebastian had crumbled Pop tarts in his pack. They sat down in the empty store to drink their smoothies and munch on crumbs of brown sugar and cinnamon. It seemed odd to him that the store was empty, especially for work day. They had the place all to themselves. Maybe, he thought, the work rush was over.

  They ate in silence; everyone tired from the long bus ride. Makayla's eyes were still red around the edges from crying, but she was hiding the evidence behind her thick trusses. Ethan grabbed the maps out of his bags, laying out the portable GPS system on the table. He started working on programming their way to the hotel, annoyed by Marshall’s eager attempts to help. Sebastian was trying to find the number to the hotel, wanting to call and see if they could check in early. He was watching his sister closely, worried that she was still stressed out about that jerk. Suddenly, panic streaked across Makayla's face. She grabbed his hand, her eyes huge with fear. She motioned with her head to the door, just as a bell announced the entry of a new customer. Sebastian looked around and groaned. The boys from the bus had followed them and were heading toward their table, a determined look on their faces.

  But how? What happened to Cyrus?

  “Hey, babe, miss me?” The boy spat out, towering over their table. Marshall and Ethan stopped what they were doing, frozen with fear.

  Sebastian didn't want to stand, fearing that the height difference between himself and the guy would encourage him to continue on his quest to have Makayla.

  Still in his seat, he growled through his teeth. “Why don't you just give up this ridiculous charade? She's made it perfectly clear she's not interested.”

  The boy's rancid breath was warm on his neck as the jerk leaned inches from his face, making him shudder. “Because I always get what I want. And I've decided I want her. Just for a while, then you can have your little slut back.”

  Sebastian stood up so fast that he didn't even realize what he was doing. He pulled his arm back and punched the boy so hard in the nose, he sent him reeling on his feet. Blood instantly began oozing from his nostrils. The boy growled with rage and ran at Sebastian, grabbing him by the collar. Before he knew what happened, Sebastian felt himself flying through the air. A loud thud reached his ears, and something cold and hard slammed into his back. Pain coursed down his spine, like a fire blazing through his body, as he tumbled to the floor. He lay there, trying to keep his mind coherent, needing to protect his sister.

  “Stand up!” He screamed at himself.

  If he could just get his legs under him, he might have the strength to get the other three out of there before everything went terribly wrong. But when he tried to move, the pain paralyzed him even further. No part of his body was responding to what he mind was commanding.

  Just when he thought it was over, a sudden blast of cool air crossed his face, making him alert to a funny sound. Laughter began ringing in his ears, the sound of the thugs hovering over him, mocking his weakness.

  A small fire began to boil inside his legs, slowly spreading its way to his arms. He tried again to move. This time he forced himself up, grabbing at the wall for balance. He glanced over at his table and saw the boy struggling with Makayla, who was screaming for help. Her chair tumbled to the ground, as the boy forced her to stand up. The fire burning in his legs had gone away. But he could feel it being replaced by the animal that had been stirring deep within him this week. This time Sebastian did not push it away. Just like in the dream, he let the animal creep up, shoving its rage into his arms and down to his hands. He willed its power to snake down his legs, to his feet. Sebastian sprang at the boy, tossing him to the ground. He wrestled him down, pinning him to the tile floor, throwing his fist as hard as he could at his face. The boy's face bloodied again, and he pulled his hands up trying to protect himself from Sebastian's blows. No one noticed the blow that was about to come from behind. Pain seared through his ear as the friend knocked Sebastian on the side of the head, throwing him off Makayla's attacker. The room started to spin. He tried to focus his eyes, but his vision was blurred. It was all he could do to stand back up and swagger toward the two boys who were back at it with his sister. He willed his legs toward them, one step at a time. Where had the fire gone? Where was the rage that had spurred him on? In a daze, he found enough strength to pull his foot up to the friend's side, making contact with his ribs. The friend went sprawling into the table behind him, knocking it and two chairs to the floor. Finally, the restaurant staff came running out, confused about the commotion in the lobby. Someone shouted to call the cops, but Sebastian didn't care, as he was too intent on getting his message acro
ss to Makayla's stalkers. Suddenly, the boy sprung from the ground and threw his fist into Sebastian's stomach. Sebastian fell to his knees, his lungs burning with each breath he took. He doubled over, putting his hands to the tile floor, spitting blood. Just as the boy was ready to hit him over the head with a chair, a dark, gruff voice came like music to Sebastian’s ear.

  “Enough!” Cyrus was standing in the doorway, ready to pounce. The boys took one look at him and ran out of the restaurant. Cyrus ran over to Sebastian, pulling him up into his arms with little effort. Looking over at Marshall, Ethan and Makayla, who were sitting with their backs to the wall terrified, he barked, “Let's go!”

  The three grabbed their stuff, following without question. Sebastian passed out in Cyrus' arms, blood dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. Cyrus climbed in the back seat of the taxi waiting outside, with Sebastian lying on his side, while the others jumped in, too afraid to ask any questions.

  “Cambridge Hospital,” Cyrus said, gruffly. The taxi driver nodded, speeding off toward the Emergency Room.

  Hidden in the alley, a tall dark woman stepped out, watching the taxi drive off. She pulled a silver cell phone out of the pocket of her black leather coat and dialed a number. Her black eyes darted up and down the familiar streets of Boston. Dark, long dread locks swayed as she hurriedly headed north up the sidewalk. Finally someone on the other end picked up.

  “The boys failed. The children got away. And he’s with them.”

  Unfamiliar beeps stirred him awake, only to find a blinding light shining in his eyes when he tried opening them. He kept them shut.

  Sebastian could feel warm, soft hands poking his face, moving down to his ribs. The pain seared up his back as the finger continued to prob.

  “And you’re his father?” A soft, deep voice was obviously doubtful as he questioned a man standing at his right. His father? He strained to remember what had happened. Where was he? Then he gasped, as another round of pain shot through him like a fire trying to consume him.

  “Ah, he's coming around. Well, we'll need to get a few X-rays. I think his ribs might be broken.” Broken ribs? He fluttered his eyes open to find the bright light still cursing his vision. He gazed around him, only being able to make out a curtain with pastel strips and flowers, pulled open revealing a bright sterile room behind it. Nothing else was coming into view except for the silver rings attached to the curtain. Focusing on the rings, Sebastian let his vision come around, before trying to see the rest of the room. Finally, he glanced over and saw Makayla with bright red eyes looking at him. Marshall was sitting in the chair next to her with his chin on his knees. Next to Marshall, Ethan was leaning against the wall, staring at him, eyes narrow in concern. A smile crept across his face, when he looked into Sebastian's eyes. Just as Sebastian was going to ask him what happened, a black mass stepped in his way. He looked up and saw Cyrus staring down at him, his eyes deep with worry. Finally, everything came to him; the bus ride, the mission, the map, the fight in the restaurant. The pain he was in suddenly intensified. He threw his hands to his stomach, groaning at the consuming fire that was raging war inside of him.

  “They've given you something for that. It should go away soon.” Cyrus' voice wasn't as hard as it had been this morning. Sebastian wanted to sit up, but knew he couldn't. He didn't like this man being here with them. He was a total stranger, one that Sebastian didn't feel right about. Why would he give up his own day to watch out for some ragamuffin band? For all he knew, they were runaways with no home. He had no idea who they were, nor did they understand who he was. It was just weird that he was acting as their “protector.” He shrugged off the feeling of dread, as the pain became more acute. What did he say about pain medicine?

  “Cyrus, why were you at the restaurant? How did you know we were there?” Sebastian thought the question had come from his own mouth, because that was exactly what he was thinking. But he looked over and saw Marshall's eyes questioning this knight in a black T-shirt. Cyrus looked at the three along the wall, clearly choosing his words carefully. He put his hand on Marshall's head, rubbing the sandy fine hair.

  “We'll have time for questions later. Right now, let's let Sebastian rest. Come on guys, why don't we go find the soda machine.” Cyrus winked at Sebastian and led them out of the room. Moments later a nurse came to wheel him toward the X-ray room.

  Sebastian had two broken ribs, bruises everywhere, and seven stitches on his face. Cyrus had found Sebastian's insurance card in his wallet and concocted some story about being his father. Sebastian’s mouth fell open as Cyrus, overly charming and polite, told the registration attendant that he had forgotten his ID at the hotel. The woman, flustered and flushed, accepted the story without question. The doctor, standing over Sebastian at the time, gave him a quizzical look. But Cyrus' face never let on there was anything wrong. The story was that some homeless men had caught up with them in an alley and Sebastian had gotten in the way. It was good enough to get them in and out of the hospital without anyone questioning otherwise.

  Once they left the hospital, however, Cyrus returned to the hardened man he’d been on the bus. The gruff tones in his voice made Sebastian think that the soft, kind voice he’d just heard in the hospital was a hallucination. Sebastian was feeling a little woozy again, not sure if the pain medicine was churning his stomach or it was Cyrus’ return to the dark side. Cyrus grabbed Marshall up into his arms, Marshall giving him an annoyed look, and grabbed Makayla by the hand. Sebastian was leaning on Ethan for support, knowing he couldn’t hold himself up, but also not sure what they were supposed to do now. They either had to get to the hotel and continue on their mission or go back to the bus station. If they were smart, they’d head back, as fast as they could, to the safety of their grandparents. But, then again, would they just have to do this all over again?

  “Well, again, thanks for your help. I guess we should get to our hotel.” Sebastian stuck out his free hand, but Cyrus shot him a look. Chills went down his spine, as the man’s face now matched his voice.

  “You think I'm just going to walk away and let you guys roam Boston alone? I think I'm going to stay with you for the next couple of days, just to see that you don't get yourselves killed.”

  Sebastian caught his breath. “Well, thanks, but we don't really know who you are. It's a little creepy for a complete stranger to follow four children around, don't you think?”

  Cyrus put Marshall down. Sebastian could feel his eyes boring into him, but was too nervous to meet his gaze. Finally, he looked up and saw Cyrus running his fingers through his hair, as if trying to figure out what to say.

  “Let's just say I'm not as much of a stranger as you think. Maybe I'm your guardian angel.” Cyrus smiled, piercing Sebastian with his eyes. Sebastian looked at him, trying to decide what his intentions were, when he noticed something changing in his expression. The brown in his eyes began to swirl, almost like they were forming a picture of something. The color was flecked with swarming colors. For an instant, Sebastian thought he saw the face of his mom. Sebastian couldn't pull his eyes away; he couldn't release his gaze. But just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. Cyrus quickly grabbed up Marshall, breaking the hold he had on him.

  “Sebastian,” Makayla whispered, looking down at her feet. “I would feel better if he stayed with us. He saved my life and maybe yours.”

  He could feel a deep sigh escaping his lips, which only sent pain shooting through his ribs. He groaned and grabbed his side, nearly toppling over onto his brother. Cyrus put his free arm around his waist, suddenly laughing, acting carefree as he had been in the hospital. Growling in humiliation under his breath, he was not happy that Cyrus was seemingly taking pleasure in his pain.

  “Well, it would seem like you aren't the defense machine that you were a couple of hours ago, huh? Maybe I should stick around until you feel better.”

  A sudden desire to start another fight surged its
way into Sebastian. The feeling of being incapable was nothing new, but it never had bothered him as much as it did in this moment. With nothing left to do, he shot Cyrus a warning look, letting him know he was watching him and spat out, “Fine.”

  Cyrus chuckled some more and said with a light voice, “Fine. Now if you don't mind, I would like to get to the hotel before more evil disasters find you guys.” Cyrus hailed a taxi with a smile, a look that seemed unusual on his face, but the lightheartedness didn’t last long. A dark, moody cloud came over him once more. Sebastian was thinking about his ever changing eyes, when he noticed Cyrus sticking his nose up in the air, as if trying to sniff it.

  Suddenly picking up speed and anxious, Cyrus grabbed their stuff, shoved them into the taxi, and told the driver to get out of there as fast as possible.

  Down the road, sitting outside a small cafe, the lady in the black leather coat watched them leave the hospital. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed. “It's me. He's still got them.” She listened. “I know. He's hurt, looks pretty bad.” Pause. “Yes.” Pause. “OK.” She hung up the phone and left toward the south side of Boston.