by Tom Shutt
“Yeah,” Jeremy said. He struggled to maintain his composure, to keep any emotion from slipping into his voice. He took a step closer. “He and Mom are at home, sleeping.”
“As you should be,” his uncle said sternly. “What on earth were you thinking?”
“I thought I needed to come find you.” Another step closer. “You worry me.”
“You could have gotten lost,” Uncle Rick scolded, “or injured yourself, or there could be more dangerous animals around. I can take care of myself. You, on the other hand…what you did was reckless!” His face reddened. “I don’t care how worried you were for me. And when we get home, I’m—”
“No, Uncle. I didn’t say I was worried for you.” Jeremy was nearly within arm’s length of the spear now. One more step. “I said you worry me.”
Confusion drained some of the color from his uncle’s features. “I don’t understand.” He seemed to just now realize how close Jeremy had come to him, and dancing flames were reflected in his eyes. His lips curled at the edges. “If this is some kind of joke—”
“No joke,” Jeremy said. His voice was utterly calm, eerily dead of emotion. Likewise, his hand reached out and grasped the haft of his uncle’s spear as if it were the most natural thing. It was rough on his palm and slightly too wide for his grip, but it would do.
“Jeremy, put that down!” Uncle Rick rose to his feet and placed the fire between the two of them. “I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but it needs to stop this instant! Stop it!” His voice was deep and rich, tapping into his power of persuasion.
Waves of haze-inducing command crashed against the walls of his mind, and he fought to resist Uncle Rick’s influence. Jeremy laughed harshly. He idly caressed the tip of the spear, as if testing its point. The bear’s blood had dried, and flakes of it came off beneath his touch. “That won’t work on me anymore, Uncle,” he said. His eyes flashed with firelight as he looked up sharply. He was aware of the flush in his face, a heat for which the flames were not altogether to blame. He shook the spear as he spoke. “See, it took me a while, but I finally have you figured out. It all makes sense now, really. I can’t believe I didn’t see through you before.”
“I have no idea what—”
“Do not lie to me!” Jeremy feinted with the spear, and his uncle took several steps back. “I’ve only just discovered mine, but you’ve had your power for a long time now, haven’t you? Ever since you were young.”
His uncle’s mouth gaped a few inches, though no words came out.
“Yeah, that’s what I figured. And who did you first use it on?” Jeremy checked his memory. “Oh, that’s right. You told the kids who were picking on your little brother to leave him alone. You were smaller then, no bigger than any of those older kids, but they listened to you. And you wondered.”
They took another step together, Jeremy advancing and his uncle retreating, the space between them always just barely longer than a lunge could carry the spear.
“You wondered, and you tried it on your parents. Your mother was gone, so you tried it on your dad. He got his shit together, and soon you boys no longer lived in the uptown slums. It could have stopped there, but it didn’t. You wanted everything to be the best.” Jeremy broke off in a laugh that bordered on maniacal. “And you know what? I can understand that. I sympathize, I really do.” Another tandem step; they were in the middle of the courtyard now, equally far away from the entrance and the Tower. “You used it on my father—your brother—and even then you meant well! Do you remember what you said to him?”
Uncle Rick’s face was a mask of horror. “How do you know all of this?”
Jeremy ignored him. “You said, ‘Do well in school, be successful, and make us all proud.’” The memory was fresh and crisp in his mind. He fixed a venomous glare at his uncle. “And then you added, ‘Find a girl.’ As an afterthought. And he did! He did all of that! Poor as he had been, terrified as he was of being alone, you helped him become successful and happily married.” Jeremy’s heart grew heavy as he lived out the emotional memories of both his mother and father. “They found love,” he said quietly.
“Jeremy, I think this has gone far enough. There are some things in my past that I haven’t told you, and I’m not proud of that, but if you could just put down the spear so we can talk—”
“No!” The rage and fury he had discovered in those memories boiled up inside. He gripped the spear in both hands and jabbed. “Does this look like a negotiation?!”
His uncle dodged away from the weapon’s point and fell back on his hands and rear. He scrambled backward toward the main entrance of the fort.
“Your command drove my father to do great things, just like you wanted,” Jeremy said. He was surprised by the strength of his own voice; if he hadn’t kept his arms moving with the feinting jabs, they would have been shaking. He was at his limits, both physically and mentally. “But his work never ended, and you jumped into the void it made between him and my mother!”
“We were in love,” Uncle Rick argued. His power still flowed into his voice, but the deep tones that hinted at persuasion rolled off of Jeremy, incapable of swaying him.
“She was confused, and you took advantage of it,” Jeremy accused. “You still come and go as you please, and they never question it because you make them think it was their idea to begin with! You’ve come and had your time here—now I think it’s time for you to go.”
“Go? Please, Jeremy, think about what you’re doing.” He rose to his feet, snarling, uncaring of the spear pointed at his chest. “If you’re going to kill me, you’ll have to do it like a man.”
Jeremy was dwarfed by his uncle, and he fought to hide the rush of fear he felt. If he screwed up, if his plan didn’t work or his uncle resisted, he could easily be overpowered by the larger man. He gulped as he reached behind his back and grabbed the mirror that had been tucked away in his waistband. Some of the cloth had come loose, and jagged glass bit into his fingers as he gripped it.
“I want you to go,” Jeremy said. He carefully held the mirror aloft, aimed at his uncle; the spear in his other hand kept his uncle from making a grab for it. Drops of blood fell from the edge of his palm as the two locked gazes. “And you’re going to give the order yourself,” he said, “so that you can never return.”
Uncle Rick glanced between Jeremy and the mirror. “Is this really what you want? For me to go and never return?”
“Did I stutter?” His knuckles cracked as he tightened his grip on the spear. “Look straight into the mirror and give the order.”
“Or what?” his uncle challenged. “You’ll stab me?”
Jeremy leapt forward and bit at his uncle’s thigh with the tip of the sharpened wood. Uncle Rick dodged to the side at the last second, but its point still dug a furrow in the muscly flesh there, a cut three inches long. He growled in surprise and clamped a hand over the wound.
“Don’t test me,” Jeremy said. More blood seeped from the fingers holding the jagged piece of mirror. “Do it. Now.”
Uncle Rick gave him a stern look and then shifted his attention to the glass. “Go home,” he said, his voice rich and deep. “Leave the valley and never come back. Don’t bother your family ever again.”
Several moments passed, and nothing happened. His feet stayed firmly planted on the ground, showing no sign of the forced compulsion that Jeremy had felt hours earlier.
A tight knot formed in his gut.
Uncle Rick advanced a step. “You see, Jeremy, I built up an immunity to this a long time ago. I know my own power better than anyone else alive. And while you’re just coming into your own”—his voice became infused with an even greater level of resonating power—“I have had decades to perfect it. Give it up.”
Jeremy buckled under the pressure that was resonating from his uncle’s voice. His knees scraped hard against the ground. Trembling overtook his hands, and the mirror shard fell with a tinkling clatter. The spear remained in his grip.
“I
didn’t come here to cause any trouble,” Uncle Rick said. “All I want to do is open up the valley for development.”
“But why?” Jeremy asked.
Uncle Rick’s eyes darted beyond him to the Tower.
An overwhelming sense of protectiveness rose up within Jeremy. That was his place. He didn’t know what his uncle had planned for it, but he’d seen into all of Uncle Rick’s past deeds, and he knew there could be no good future where that man was concerned. He would lose all control of his body in a few seconds’ time.
With the little strength he had left, Jeremy lunged forward and drove the spear clumsily into his uncle’s shoulder, embedding it there. As soon as the point pierced the skin, he felt the tremendous weight lift from his mind. He could move again, and he took advantage of the momentary reprieve. Jeremy spun on the spot and sprinted for the Tower as fast as he could.
His uncle screamed in pain and rage behind him, a primal roar of defiance. Jeremy ducked inside the cylindrical tower of stone and desperately wished that the enclosure had a door. There was no place to hide in the little room. Uncle Rick would be here soon, and without a weapon, Jeremy had no way to hold him off a second time.
There was only the stone table and the staircase to nowhere. The emptiness of the room was aggravating. Light from above caught Jeremy’s eye, though, and he suddenly remembered the second level of the Tower. Would Uncle Rick even be able to climb the recessed ladder?
Jeremy slipped his fingers into the grooves in the wall and started scaling his way to the second floor of the Tower. Outside, he heard an ungodly howl of pain. It sounded like Uncle Rick had managed to take out the spear.
The five windows met Jeremy as he reached the wheel spokes landing. A soft glow emanated from their edges, even though the interior landscapes were all shrouded in night. Hours had passed since he’d left the house, and Jeremy realized that the sun would be rising any minute now. Even as he watched, the windows grew brighter, their details coming into sharper relief.
If Uncle Rick looks up here, he’ll see me right away.
There was only thing left to do. Taking off his shoe, Jeremy repeated the same operation he’d performed on the mirror at home. He brought his hand back and then swung hard with the hard rubber heel. With experience, he knew that he had to hit it as hard and as fast as he could.
The glass shattered, and solid stone lay on the other side. It felt like pieces of Jeremy were breaking as he hurried to the other spokes and smashed the next few windows. By the time he reached the fifth and final window, the sun had definitely peeked over the horizon. The snowy landscape was almost blinding with its iridescence. Jeremy knew there was something incredible going on in this Tower, that there was something at work beyond even his wildest imagination. But he couldn’t risk being seen, and the magic window was just too bright. Reluctantly, he brought back his shoe and then smashed the window to smithereens.
As the light went out and the glass fell to the floor, a snowflake the size of a thumbnail flitted into the room and landed on his nose, chilling him for a second before turning to water.
Heavy footsteps echoed up from below, and Jeremy ducked down just in time as Uncle Rick staggered into the lower chamber. His shirt was stained crimson from the wound on his shoulder, and he used the spear as a makeshift staff for support. “Come out, Jeremy. I know you’re in here.”
Jeremy lay flat on his stomach and only leaned over the edge far enough to keep an eye on his uncle.
Uncle Rick trudged to the stone table and checked all around it, and then he went to the pretend staircase and felt all around at the wall where a door should have been. It was clearly too dark for him to see the recessed stone ladder.
The entrance to the Tower was getting brighter, though. With enough sunlight, Uncle Rick would put two and two together.
“Come to me,” Uncle Rick said, infusing his voice with power.
A rumbling came, and the whole foundation of the Tower shook. Jeremy held on for dear life as the wheel spokes did their best to shake him off. Uncle Rick stumbled against the stone table and grasped at its edge to hold himself steady.
Stone gave way, and Jeremy went into freefall as the spoke crumbled into huge chunks and plummeted to the floor. One chunk hit Uncle Rick high on the shoulder and seemed to hit a sensitive nerve, and his body went limp.
Jeremy screamed out as he fell headlong toward the ground. His fall was stopped short, though, as the lower half of his body smashed into the hard edge of the stone table. The wind exploded from his lungs as he curled into a ball and lost consciousness.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sam was waiting at the shuttle station when Brennan arrived.
“Christ,” he said. “Brennan, you look like—no, actually, just no. Because every time I tell you how bad you look, you try and one-up yourself.”
Brennan grunted. “Just when I was getting used to your candor.”
Sam spared him a smile that lasted for a scant second. “What happened to Noel?” he asked soberly. Brennan filled him on the details as they boarded the most direct shuttle going uptown. “Jesus, Arthur! When were you going to tell me this?”
“I told you just now,” Brennan said. “We knew her side of the assault went south a few hours ago—”
“And you’ve waited this long—”
“—but we didn’t have enough intel—”
“—to respond!” They finished at the same time, though Sam’s voice was incredulous whereas Brennan had tried to sound reasoning. “Look,” Brennan said, “I didn’t want to keep you out of the loop any longer than I had to. But—hey, Sam, listen to me—we couldn’t do anything until now. Her entire squad went down, and there was no lead on where she was taken.”
“What, and now there is?” Sam faced him squarely and his eyes narrowed. “Exactly what kind of intel are you working from?”
Brennan kept his face an opaque mask. He couldn’t rightly tell Sam that he had willingly drugged his nephew in exchange for a psychic vision, one that was the product of a well-known and powerful hallucinogen. When he said it in his head like that, even he couldn’t believe half of it. No, he wasn’t ready to reveal what Greg could do. And who knew where the conversation could lead after that? He hated lying to his friend, but it was for his own good.
“The important thing,” Brennan said, forcing calm into his voice, “is that we know where she is now.” He clasped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I need you with me on this.”
Sam stared resolutely out the window for a long moment. He shrugged off Brennan’s hand and looked at him with reproach. “I don’t appreciate having things kept from me,” he said. “But yeah, I’m with you.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Sam leaned against the back of the seats nearest him. “So where is the police contingent on this?” he asked, looking around at the shuttle conspicuously devoid of uniforms.
Brennan shook his head. “Not enough men in too little time. Her team went down hours ago, and who knows how long she has left? Besides, we went hot and heavy last time, and you can see how that went. No, you and me—”
“You and I,” Sam corrected.
Brennan gave him an even look. “Me and you,” he said heavily. “See what you did? Now you don’t even come first. We are going in dark, as quiet as we can. If we go in with dozens of men, they’ll kill her and go down shooting. Or worse, use her as a bargaining chip against us. The hospital is a big place, and we don’t know how many men Leviathan has inside.”
“Ballpark?”
“Probably a lot of them.”
“That helps. I’m glad I asked.”
“This is Bishop we’re talking about. Does it really matter how many of their men stand between us?”
Sam shook his head. “Move heaven and earth, right?”
Brennan grinned fiercely. “And march through hell to get there.” He glanced up at the small screen that announced each station as they passed through. “This is our stop coming up,” he said.
>
Sam read the sign as well. “It’s too soon. The uptown hospital isn’t until the one after.”
Brennan frowned. “The shuttle station is right next to the hospital; I guarantee they’ll have someone on watch there. Our best bet is to get off here and walk the rest of the way. We can try and gain access through a service entrance.”
“Even if it takes longer?” Sam asked. Brennan knew how much Sam cared for Bishop, despite his polyamorous tendencies. He resisted the urge to look at his watch. Every second delayed could mean the end of Bishop’s life, but there was no other way.
“We won’t do Bishop any good by getting shot fresh off the shuttle,” he said, just barely loud enough to be heard over the automated voice announcing their stop. “This is the way we’re doing it.”
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The now defunct Odols General North Hospital was a building of enormous size, an entire city block of whitewashed stone and marble. It wasn’t the tallest building, but what it lacked in height it made up for in sheer square footage. It had fallen into disrepair over the years and passed away silently as the newer, better-equipped Odols General Central opened closer to the city’s center. The rights to the property stayed in government hands, though, so no new development had taken over. Most abandoned buildings fell to squatters, and the police were too occupied with more serious matters to heartlessly evict them.
In some cases, though, the open spaces attracted the likes of Leviathan, and as an officer of the law and employee of the government who owned the building, Brennan felt fully within his right to persecute the trespassers.
He and Sam jogged from the shuttle station and circled around the back to the medical bay, where ambulances would drop off critical patients directly. Sam jimmied the lock while Brennan stood on guard, and after a moment the two slipped inside. The corridor was long, lined with doors, and surprisingly clean. A few pieces of ceiling tile now lay on the floor, and the electricity was shut off, but neither made the hallway impossible to navigate. Sam reached for a flashlight from his belt, but Brennan stopped his arm.