A Step Away (The Wanderer Book 2)
Page 8
“He’s very sensitive to fragrances. You don’t smell anything because he doesn’t want to smell anything.” Snapping my head toward the sound of his voice I see Zafir at the far end of the hallway with his arms half extended.
“Brother don’t, let it be.”
“No!”
Heeding the venom in his tone, I bite my tongue and make my way to his side. We all wrestle with demons and today his are close at hand. Who am I to instruct how best to manage them? Almost imperceptible tremors dance along the muscles of Zafir’s outstretched arms and yet he remains still. A small girl in a red sundress dangles lifelessly from the wall in front of him. If not for the lackluster matted curls covering her face and the nail driven through her abdomen pinning her in place she’d look peaceful, almost angelic. Delicately, as if he were holding a newborn, Zafir removes the nail and cradles the tiny form in his arms. A well placed kick tears the nearest cabin door free of its hinges, making it accessible to Z and his tiny burden. Pulling the rumpled comforter on the bed aside, he lays the child to rest on the pristine white linens. With a flick of his wrist he covers her with the top sheet and retreats slowly.
“Her throat wasn’t cut like the others,” I surmise.
“No, I’m sure she died long before he hung her up there.” He grinds the words out slowly, jaw clenched, and I wonder what he means. A telltale vein has begun to pulse in his forehead, and I can see that Z’s about to boil over. If I don’t choose my next words carefully, he may run rampant through the ship, hell bent on his own brand of destruction.
“Think Z, you know him better than anyone. If he were still on this boat, where would he be?” Mindless fury seems to have settled over Z, so maybe my words might not matter. I’m not even sure he’s heard me until he shouts.
“The auditorium!” He charges back down the hallway, black-eyed rage fueling his limbs to speeds I can’t hope to match.
“Ah hell.” Doubling back, I fail miserably to catch up with Zafir but I follow the fresh path of destruction he’s churned up, like a bull in a china shop. The body count drops off considerably as we race towards our destination, but I don’t have time to ponder what it means. Ahead of me Zafir barrels through the doors of the main auditorium and a reptilian-like voice turns my blood to ice. Pulling up short, I hang back behind the doors, watching from the shadows. If we have any hope of making it out of this predicament unscathed, we need an element of surprise.
“A tad premature my old friend, I’d not finished yet. But then you never could wait to join the party,” says Himyar. Each word is accented by a slight hiss which grates on my nerves, like fingers dragged down a chalk board. Through my peephole I see he has amassed two separate piles of bodies. The furthest one appears to be constructed entirely out of Nephilim and the other I cannot make out from this vantage point. I wish Zafir would say something helpful, giving me a better idea what’s going on in there.
“Come now, Iblis, after all this time you must have something you wish to say?”
“Zafir. My name is Zafir,” I can hear Z say.
“A pity... I honor you my old friend. See, I have not forgotten you.” Pointing, he indicates something in the direction of the mound just out of my view. The heartfelt grasp for kinship is sickeningly strange. Sylph are fickle so they don’t form lasting bonds of any kind. The connection these two share surpasses my understanding.
“If this statement was for me you’ve wasted your time.”
“It isn’t just for you!” Himyar shrieks. The unexpected outburst frays my nerves, but I hold my ground knowing the wrong move could cost Z.
“I’ll show the world they are nothing more than cattle and I will rule them all! And one day,” he says as his tone softens with something akin to regret, “one day, I will find a way to make those meddling angels pay for what they’ve done to you, my friend!”
Capitalizing on the emotional anarchy of the room, I slip inside unnoticed until I saunter forward to flank Z. I will make my stand with him. Himyar occupies the center stage, very much the lead in this sinister production. His symbol is written in blood on a banner overhanging the small pile of Nephilim. The atrocity he’s built for Zafir stands to my right, dwarfing the hill of redheads. Decorating a second banner is another symbol, one I’ve never seen before nor know how to translate. Like the capstone of a pyramid, it tops the twisted shrine constructed from the tiny bodies of the ship’s children.
“Zafir is my friend,” I challenge, pitting our bond against the old one Himyar seems hung up on. “The best thing those angels ever did was lock you alone in the dark.” Eyes filled with contempt flare red for a split second, the only outward sign that I’ve rattled his cage. Poking the beast pays off and I learn he doesn’t fully embrace the solitary lifestyle like most Sylph. Interesting, I think.
“So be it.” Himyar says, refusing to acknowledge me and directing his reply to Z alone. “You were never great at seeing the big picture, my old friend, and this,” he spreads his arms wide to emphasize the entirety of his work, “is only the beginning.”
A half a breath is all I have to work with. Unleashing a snarl, Zafir launches himself at Himyar, and running like the wind I take the stage to back up my partner. As luck would have it Himyar doesn’t want to fight, and with a wicked grin he dissipates into crimson smoke a second before we corner him.
“Fools,” his parting remark and sinister laugh echo around the room while we stand alone on the stage staring at one another, stunned. Snatching the phone from my pocket, I bypass the messages from Adil and send a new text of my own: Himyar’s gone, nothing’s left of the ship, send help.
“We could have had him!” Z lashes out and shoves me in the chest.
“Wanderer, stand down! This was the best we could have hoped for. We weren’t prepared for an assault. What did you expect?”
“I came here to finish this!” Turning, he puts his fist through the wall.
“With just the two of us? Without back up or the bloody sword?” Attempting to diffuse the situation rationally is an epic failure and earns me nothing more than a sore jaw. After socking me Zafir jumps ship, literally: he escapes topside and dives into the ocean, swimming away. Leaving him alone to fester, I drag a lounge chair mid-deck so it’s in view of our vessel and await the cavalry.
* * *
Thin wisps of green smoke that dance on the breeze a moment before fading from sight catch my attention. Dragging myself to a standing position, I wait for my brother to step into view. The stocky form of Hashim grows steadily larger as he approaches from the bow. Two more clouds of smoke, originating somewhere off to my left, float into view and announce the appearance of Hal and Rashid.
“Head for the stern!” I bellow over the wind, hoping Hal and Rashid are within earshot. Dammit, I think, Hal shouldn’t have come. With Himyar still on the loose he should have stayed with her. Grinding my teeth, I push my angst aside. Now is not the time to deal with such matters, but I console myself with the promise of cornering Hal about his blatant disregard for Gwen’s safety later.
“Kade.” Hashim greets me before planting his feet and folding his arms over his chest while we await the others. I draw solace from the reserved man’s strength and appreciate his ability not to clutter up the companionable silence with mindless chatter. Silence makes most people uncomfortable and they ramble, needing to fill the awkward pause with something. Hashim knows the benefits of quiet contemplation and rarely says much so I heed his wisdom when he does choose to speak.
Hal and Rashid work their way over to us a few minutes later.
“Where’s Z?” Rashid asks.
“Gone for a swim,” I answer.
“A swim?” he asks incredulously. Hal and I share a look, and I know his keen observation skills are picking up on everything Rashid has missed.
“What I think Kade is trying to tell us is that after confronting the worst of his past Zafir needed to cool off. Let it go,” he tells Rashid while firmly gripping his shoulder. Nodding, the
trio turns to me once more. I run a hand through my hair and pause. Where to begin?
“Himyar was responsible for this vessel’s disappearance and the deaths of every soul on board. We found no evidence to suggest he was working in collaboration with anyone else. When we arrived, the vessel and a good portion of the sea surrounding it were spelled to avoid detection. From what he said during our confrontation, this is a sign intended for humans of what is to come, a glorious future if you will.” My brothers continue to watch me, processing what I’ve told them. I can see the wheels turning behind their eyes. “Follow me, I need to show you. Hashim, would you mind documenting this for the others?” I ask, tossing him the video camera I fished off of our boat while waiting. He nods and they begin to follow as I walk them through the same route Z and I took when we boarded earlier. “We have to hurry because without the spell masking detection someone else is bound to stumble upon the ship.” I wind them through the circus of horrors, ending with the auditorium and the twisted monuments within.
“It’s been a long time.” The sentiment slips from Rashid’s lips. He’s right; it’s been decades since we’ve witnessed Nephilim genocide on this scale.
“Does this mean what I think it means?” Hal asks, indicating the mound of children.
“Do you understand the symbol? It’s a dialect I can’t decipher.” I answer his question with one of my own. Frowning, he looks up.
“More or less. There’s no direct translation into English. It basically says ‘The Despair’.”
I look at Hal as I share my revelation. “Himyar constructed that for Z, to honor him. He kept referring to him as “old friend.” At one point he swore someday to avenge Zafir by finding and punishing the angels responsible for the curse.”
“Whoa.”
“I don’t think he likes being alone Hal, I think he misses Z.”
“Sylph don’t give a shit about anybody but themselves,” Rashid says, voicing our common understanding of Sylph.
“This was different,” I continue, never taking my eyes off Hal. “I can’t explain it, but it was. Do you know what to make of it?”
Pulled from his reverie Hal looks up and answers, “Perhaps Himyar falls outside the bell curve.”
“Bull,” Rashid tosses back. “We were all Sylph once, remember? I didn’t have any friends.”
“Can you speak for the others?” Hal asks, stupefying Rashid. “I know I can’t, so maybe our philosophy is a misconception,” he pauses momentarily and returns my gaze. “Or more likely, Himyar is the first Sylph we’ve experienced that doesn’t meet the one size fits all mentality we’ve always embraced.”
Shaken by Hal’s concise assessment I worry. If he’s right then Himyar could be a loose cannon, completely unpredictable. As if reading my mind Hal nods and agrees. “Unpredictable,” he says.
“Great,” Rashid replies, finally catching up. “I hate this guy.”
Stifling a laugh over Rashid’s juvenile sentiment I tell them, “Come on, let’s get out of here.” Wasting no time we return to the upper deck. In the absence of Himyar’s spell, the corpses are beginning to stink and I don’t relish remaining below deck any longer.
“Wow, the stench is overwhelming,” Rashid comments between gasps of fresh air. “What are we going to do? Cleaning up a mess like this, wow, it’s not like the old days.” While Hal, Rashid, and I hash out the best course of action Hashim meanders over to the side rail, staring out at the sea. “We have to play the terrorist card,” Rashid continues.
Closing my eyes I massage my brow, trying to relieve the tension headache that’s taken up residence behind my eyes. “Right, and that won’t instigate another world war,” I snap, tired of Rashid’s lack of useful suggestions. He’s hell bent on staging everything to look like this was a terrorist attack. Which would fly and people would believe it, but at what cost?
“We sink the boat,” Hashim announces, catching us all by surprise. That’s the thing about Hashim - you assume he isn’t listening because he’s quiet and then bang, he spouts off something brilliant. “It’s the only option,” he tacks on as he turns to face the group.
“There’ll be enough flotsam for the humans to find so they’ll be able to piece together what happened, and the sea life will take care of the decaying bodies which will mask the actual cause of death,” Hal summarizes.
“Great! Let’s put a hole in the hull!” Rashid rubs his hands together in anticipation.
“Is there any evidence the sea won’t cover up?” Hal asks, pulling me aside.
“No.” I shake my head and keep hold of his arm so I can unleash my pent up frustrations. “You shouldn’t be here, what the hell were you thinking?” I whisper for his ears alone. Calculated steel stares back at me.
“When ordered I come.” Like hot coals being heaped on top of my head, his cool reply burns.
“Your other mission is of primary importance.”
“And why’s that? Catching Himyar is what’s vital, not babysitting some girl.”
“Gwen’s not just some girl!” I roar, slamming Hal up against a bulkhead.
“Easy, brother.”
I step back and regain some self-control after the emotional outburst. Hashim and Rashid hover around us since the altercation drew their attention. Hal dusts himself off as a sheepish grin lingers on his face. “Have a little faith brother, Gwen is ever my top priority.”
As I mumble a quick “I don’t know what came over me,” I can see Hashim visibly relax in my peripheral vision.
“I do my brother, and it’s good to hear you speak her name again.” Snapping my head up I entertain the sneaking suspicion Hal provoked me on purpose, but to what end I’m not sure.
A muffled metallic banging grabs our attention, effectively ending all conversation. Before we get close enough to investigate, a sopping wet body flops over the handrail. Slipping and crashing onto the deck Z lets fly a string of obscenities, eliminating any doubt as to the identity of the newcomer. Stretching to his full height he slicks back his wet hair and saunters over, shrugging his shoulders. “What?”
“Nothing, come on I need your help making a hole.” Rashid ambushes Z and enlists his help before he can utter another word.
“Alright back to the ship, uh the smaller one,” I clarify. After climbing back down to the trusty vessel Z and I have been using, I draw anchor and we swing about. Surveying the wreck we watch Z and Rashid make quick work of the hull, replicating the type of hole the ship would incur if it had unexpectedly run into something on the starboard side. When they finish Z hits the water, swimming our direction. Rashid poofs over and beats him by several minutes. We watch as the Monarch of the Seas quickly floods. Normally it would take hours for a ship that size to completely submerge, but since time is of the essence we combine our strength and spell the cruise ship so the entire process takes less than ten minutes.
“Well that takes care of that,” Rashid announces sadly. Searching the faces of my somber companions I can see that the loss of life weighs heavily on their consciences.
“This is only the beginning,” I remind everyone, quoting Himyar. “Let’s get home.”
“Yes!” Zafir bellows, throwing a fist in the air while I turn the boat about and hit the gas. Winking out in three distinctive clouds of smoke, Hashim, Rashid, and Hal depart. I hardly notice the momentary loss of vision caused by the plumes of colorful smoke; my only concern is boarding a plane and getting back to Gwen as speedily as possible.
Chapter 11
Gwen
Spring Resealing year 5
“How come you can’t just poof me to Utah?” I ask again after the uncomfortable ordeal of being poked and prodded by airport security.
“Like I told you before,” Hal whispers as he collects my carry-on bag while I tie my sneakers, “you’re too heavy.”
Looking up through my eyelashes at him I scoff. “I’m not that heavy.” Having effectively put myself back together we set off in search of our departure gate.
“But you manage it with your clothes on and those certainly count as weight,” I lecture, using my know-it-all voice.
“Yeah, and it was decades before I mastered that,” he answers as he rolls his eyes at me.
“Traveling with extra weight is physically exhausting, the not-able-to stand-up-once-you’ve-reached-your-destination type of exhaustion. I practiced for years to be able to travel with clothes, sunglasses, and a cell phone.” My mind entertains inappropriate thoughts of Hal poofing in and out of the bakery clothed in nothing but those penetrating brown eyes and his school boy grin. “Gwen... have you heard a word I’ve said?”
“Huh?” I reply, unable to meet said eyes. I try to distract myself by staring at his shoes but my mind isn’t ready to relinquish the fantasy and my thoughts drift to his bronzed chest and picturesque abs.
He must have spoken and I must have missed it again because suddenly I find his index finger below my chin, forcing my head up to meet his gaze.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah I get it, I’m too heavy or you’re too weak to carry me by poof, so let’s just drop it okay?” I shake him off, feeling flushed. Unable to pinpoint the source or explain my change in composure he just stares at me like I’m from another planet.
“Attempting to travel with you could kill me, Gwen,” he expounds while trying to figure out why I snapped at him.
“Wait, you told me the Wanderers are indestructible?” I ask as the voice of the gate attendant over the loud speaker instructing those in first class to begin boarding drowns out my own. Leading me by the arm Hal navigates a path for us through the crowd.