Moving Target

Home > Other > Moving Target > Page 7
Moving Target Page 7

by Christina Diaz Gonzalez


  A heavy silence filled the room. I hadn’t meant to put Simone in more danger.

  “But what’s done is done.” Brother Gregorio took a sip of water. “If you have revealed to Simone what I have told you, I suppose I will have to find a ring for her to wear as well. I will get one tomorrow.”

  “I’m not wearing it,” Simone said matter-of-factly.

  Brother Gregorio’s eyes narrowed, and he gave Simone a cold, hard stare. “My dear, I did not ask.”

  “Zio.” Asher rushed in from the other room. “It’s for you. They said the password.”

  Brother Gregorio immediately stood up, his large belly hitting the table, jostling all the water glasses. “Yes, yes.” He moved as fast as he could, though it didn’t seem like his three-hundred-pound body would cooperate with anything more than a snail’s pace. He left the room, and Asher stood in the archway.

  Simone and I glanced at each other. There was no way I was going to sit and wait. We both jumped up at the same time and went straight for Asher.

  “Brother Gregorio needs privacy,” he said, holding out his arms to block the entrance to the living room.

  “How do you know that?” Simone narrowed her eyes. “He didn’t say anything.”

  “It’s probably something to do with me or my dad. I have a right to hear it,” I added.

  “Just stay here. He’ll let us know if—”

  Simone shoved Asher, causing him to lose his balance and stumble. We were both about to rush through when he lunged forward, grabbed Simone by the arm, twisted it, and pushed her back into the dining room.

  “Are you insane?” Simone yelled as Asher let her go and resumed blocking the archway. “How dare you grab me and—”

  “Shhh!” I interrupted. I could hear Brother Gregorio from where we stood.

  “I understand.” Silence, followed by the old monk saying, “Yes, I agree that it is the best for all concerned. Grazie.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I pushed against Asher’s chest with all my might. He didn’t budge; it was like pushing against a wall. For someone who didn’t look to be that thick or muscular, he was very solid.

  “Asher … please. It’s about my dad,” I begged softly, but it was too late. I heard the click of the phone just as Asher relented and stepped aside.

  Brother Gregorio was waddling around the couch in the middle of the room. “Cassandra,” he called out, but he didn’t have to raise his voice much, because in an instant I was in front of him with Simone at my heels. “Your father …”

  “Yes?” My heart pounded in my chest.

  “He’s alive. They were able to remove the bullet and it didn’t hit any vital organs.”

  I turned and hugged Simone.

  “But?” Simone asked, cutting off my celebration.

  That’s when I noticed Brother Gregorio’s grim demeanor.

  “After the surgery … he hasn’t regained consciousness.” Brother Gregorio took one of my hands in his. “Now, that isn’t completely unheard of, especially after such a procedure.”

  I pulled away, not wanting to be consoled. “I want to go see him.”

  Brother Gregorio shook his head and began shuffling toward the dining room. “You can’t, because I don’t know where he is. He’s been transferred somewhere to recover.”

  I chased after him. “You have to know. If he’s not at the hospital, where is he? Don’t lie to us!”

  He spun quickly around. “My child, I don’t lie.”

  “I didn’t mean … I just … I want to see him. You can’t keep us here forever.”

  “Cassandra, I know this is all very difficult for you.” He put an arm around my shoulders. “You’ve only been here for a few hours, and you won’t have to stay here forever … just until the spear is found and returned to the Hastati. It’s what your father would want. Now come, let’s finish our dinner and I’ll tell you everything I was told.”

  There wasn’t much I could do. He held all the cards. It was up to him to tell me anything or nothing.

  Unfortunately, everything that Brother Gregorio knew added up to a bunch of nothing. He knew that my father had been rushed into surgery at the hospital where I had dropped him off, and then transferred to a different facility. Supposedly, the Hastati weren’t interested in harming my father—they’d been aiming at me—but they didn’t want him running around unsupervised, either. As for his whereabouts, they wouldn’t tell Brother Gregorio anything, and that was by design. The less he knew, the less he could reveal to me or anyone else. Apparently, it was the way everything with the Hastati worked. It was the key to keeping the secret organization … secret.

  I couldn’t imagine leaving my father in the care of the same people who had shot him, but Brother Gregorio swore that he’d receive the absolute best treatment. That was hard to believe, because what kind of doctors work in a secret hospital? This all convinced me of one thing: The only way to help my father and have our lives go back to normal was for me to find the spear and find it fast.

  “Did you hear all that?” Simone mumbled as she hung up the phone. After dinner, we’d retreated to the living room to make the call to Simone’s mother. “Not even when she hears about an attack does she care how I’m feeling. She just wanted to know how you knew Brother Gregorio.” Simone shook her head.

  “She knows you’re safe and that you can handle things on your own,” I said, trying to be supportive. “And I think your answer about my dad and Brother Gregorio being friends was perfect. It wasn’t even really a lie.”

  Simone scoffed. “Whatever. She couldn’t even promise to come home soon. Said she’d try.” She shrugged as if to forget the whole thing, but I knew how much it bothered her. I’d seen it before when her mother forgot to call on Simone’s birthday or when she didn’t come home for Christmas. Simone had even ended up spending her entire winter break sleeping over at my little apartment and, although she had all the money in the world, she’d sworn it was the best holiday she’d ever had.

  “At least I did what she asked and called,” Simone said. “She can’t complain. Now, let’s find that computer and figure out what your dad was talking about.”

  After we searched downstairs and found nothing, things started looking a little grim.

  “In Tough Guy’s room,” Simone said, rushing up the stairs. “I bet he has it there.”

  “We can’t just go in his room,” I said, catching up to her.

  “Sure we can.” She leaned over the railing and pointed down to the first floor. “Check it out. He’s still washing pots and pans. We won’t get caught. We just have to be quick.”

  I bit my lip. Brother Gregorio and Asher had been nothing but nice to us. They seemed to actually be giving us some type of protection from the Hastati—at least, we hadn’t been shot at in the past few hours—so we couldn’t afford to get them angry at us. “Or we could just ask again.”

  “And risk Brother Gregorio saying no?” Simone shook her head. “I’ve learned that it’s better to ask for forgiveness than for permission.” She pushed open the first door, revealing a dark room.

  “Fine.” I relented and flicked on the light switch, which revealed nothing except a punching bag, a pull-up bar, and some weights in the corner.

  “Check the next one.” Simone motioned for me to go back outside.

  I hurried down the hall. This room, unlike the first one, was bathed in moonlight coming in from two large windows. I could see drop cloths protecting the parquet floor, and there were easels with half-painted canvases scattered around the room. I paused to look at the different paintings, which were quite good, if a bit gruesome with their beheadings of different saints.

  “Over here!” Simone said in a muted cry.

  Quickly, I closed the door to the art studio and made my way to the room two doors from mine.

  “He’s ridiculously neat,” Simone said as I stood in the doorway. “He even has his pencils lined up on the desk.”

  The room itself wasn’t much
different from my room, except his bed had an old brown-and-blue bedspread and there was a poster of a guy surfing a huge wave hanging on the wall.

  Simone turned on the desk lamp and rummaged through each drawer. “The cord is here, but no laptop. See if it’s over there,” she said, pointing to an old armoire in the corner.

  “This doesn’t feel right.” I glanced back down the breezeway. “We really shouldn’t do this.”

  Simone froze in midsearch and stared at me. “Fine, it’s your call.” She lifted up her hands like a thief being caught. “I just thought you wanted answers.”

  “I do.” Simone was right. The old rules didn’t apply anymore. Plus, we only wanted to use the computer; we weren’t stealing anything. “Keep looking,” I said, dashing across the room to open the large armoire. Jackets and pants were hanging inside, and the T-shirts were folded perfectly on the bottom, like in a store.

  “Anything?” Simone had now moved on to a chest of drawers.

  “No, but—”

  “What are you doing in here?” Asher’s voice bounced off the monastery walls.

  I jumped, slamming shut the armoire door. “Um, we needed … I mean, we were only looking for—”

  “There’s nothing in here for you.” He walked over to the chest of drawers and shoved the middle drawer shut. “This is my stuff.”

  Simone backed away toward the door. “We were just looking for a computer, and if you’d told us earlier where—”

  “Here!” Asher yanked open a drawer in his nightstand and pulled out a laptop. “I was coming upstairs to get it for you anyway.” He thrust the computer in my direction. “Knock yourselves out … in your own room.”

  I took the laptop and tried to explain. “I’m sorry, but we were desperate,” I said. “We normally wouldn’t have—”

  “Just get out,” he said, no emotion in his voice.

  Simone waved me over.

  “Sorry,” I repeated as I walked out of the room.

  Asher didn’t reply, and he didn’t look at me. He turned around and stared out the window.

  We retreated to my room, and I immediately jumped onto the bed and flipped open the laptop. I was about to search for anything to do with dying cities when I noticed Simone dragging a large wingback chair toward the closed door.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, typing my search for any references about dying cities into the computer.

  She pushed the chair up and underneath the brass door handle. Then she let out a big sigh and leaned against the wall. “It’s been a rough day and, well, we’re in a creepy monastery with two weird guys inside and assassins on the outside. Call me crazy, but I’m not taking any chances.”

  She had a point. A very good one.

  Simone scooted next to me on the bed and peered over my shoulder at the first few entries that popped up when I searched for dying cities. “Detroit? We’re going to have to go to Detroit?”

  I didn’t say anything, but continued to read. I’d go anywhere to get back to my regular life and save my dad. I couldn’t believe that twelve hours earlier I’d been sitting in class and my biggest worry had been how to survive another day of Latchke’s lectures. It all seemed so long ago.

  “There.” I pointed to the bottom entry. It described an old Italian town nicknamed the Dying City, whose real name was Civita di Bagnoregio. “CDB!” I exclaimed, clicking on the link to get more information. What popped up was beautiful and, at the same time, a little scary. A current photo of the medieval-looking town showed it to be perched atop a narrow and steep plateau. There was a footbridge that crossed the huge gorge and rose dramatically to meet a winding road near the top.

  “Figures it would be in a place like that,” Simone muttered.

  “Yeah.” I nodded in agreement. “But it says it’s only about a hundred and twenty kilometers from Rome. That isn’t too far. We just need a car.”

  “I can take care of that.” Simone snapped her fingers. “Done!”

  “How? What are you going to do?”

  “Does Batman ever ask Robin? Or Harry ask Hermione?” Simone answered. “Trust me.”

  I cocked my head to the side and waited.

  Simone let out a long sigh. “I’m going to do what I do best. Use my mother’s name to get us a driver and put it on her tab.”

  “Oh, well, yeah. That makes sense.”

  “Glad you approve.” She smiled. “Now, what’s next on the list?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Make sure we don’t get killed while we look for a mysterious spear that’s been missing for who knows how long by finding a guy that no one’s ever seen.”

  Simone pursed her lips and grimaced.

  “It all sounds impossible,” I said, falling back against the pillow.

  “Difficult,” Simone answered. “Not impossible. And the good thing is, no one expects us to go look for it.”

  I propped myself up on my elbows and stared at Simone. She was right. Assassins or not, this was the only way.

  The early light of dawn was beginning to filter through the window when I came out of the bathroom. Simone was still asleep, the red bedspread pulled beneath her chin. “Wake up,” I whispered, shaking her shoulder.

  Simone stirred, then buried her head under the pillow. It hadn’t taken much to convince her to let me sleep on the cot, but it was the least I could do. We’d stayed up late researching the spear, the Hastati, and the medieval city of Civita, but more importantly, we’d come up with a plan.

  “Simone, come on.” I sat on the foot of the bed. “The car is probably already outside.”

  “They’ll wait,” she mumbled, still not moving. “They always do.”

  I took a deep breath. Thanks to her, we had a driver to take us on the two-hour journey, but we needed to leave the monastery before anyone noticed. I looked at the small clock on the night table. “Simone, it’s almost six. We really have to go.”

  She rubbed her eyes open. “I know, I know,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows. “Give me three minutes, okay?”

  “A real three minutes. Hurry.” I grabbed a pen and pulled my father’s journal from under the mattress. Ripping out a blank page from the back, I thought about what to write to Brother Gregorio. It would have to be a “thank you, but no thank you” type of note.

  Short and simple.

  Brother Gregorio,

  Thank you for everything. We’ll be back after we have the spear. Please check on my dad and make sure he’s safe. We will be careful. I promise.

  —Cassie

  I straightened up the bedspread and placed the note on top of the pillow.

  “Ready?” Simone hopped out of the bathroom, putting on her left shoe.

  “Yeah.” I slung my bag across my body, slipped in the journal, and helped Simone silently push the chair away from the door. I had feared that the old, heavy door would creak as we slowly pulled it open, but it stayed silent. We had managed to make it down the stairs without a sound, but now we faced the three dead bolts on the front door. It didn’t matter how careful we were turning each knob, a clanking sound reverberated through the stillness of the monastery as we unlocked each one. I glanced around, but no one showed up.

  “Let’s go,” Simone said, pulling open the door and stepping outside.

  I couldn’t move. It was like my feet had suddenly been clamped down to the floor. The reality of what I was doing, what I was asking Simone to do, smacked me in the face. I was leaving the supposed security of the monastery and putting everything at risk again. What if I failed or got us both killed? I wasn’t really prepared for this kind of thing.

  My mouth went dry, and I could barely swallow the lump in my throat.

  “What?” Simone looked back at me. “Second thoughts?”

  Across the street I could see a chauffeur, wearing his dark suit and driver’s cap, standing by a black sedan. We only had to walk over and tell him where we wanted to go.

  I took a deep breath. Whether this spear was legit or no
t, I knew that my choices would determine our destiny, and my dad’s.

  We’ll be fine, I told myself. We’ll find the spear, save my dad, and everything will go back to normal.

  “Seriously, we can go back in.” Simone got closer. “I’ll stay with you. No matter what, I’ve got your back.”

  “No.” I took a step forward and closed the door behind me. “We can do this.”

  We were two steps onto the sidewalk, about to cross the street, when I noticed the chauffeur’s profile.

  My stomach rolled, and I could feel bile rising to my throat.

  His ear … the bottom half was missing.

  “Simone, stop!” I grabbed her arm. “It’s him,” I whispered, slowly inching back toward the monastery, trying not to attract attention.

  Simone looked up and down the empty street. “Who? No one else is out here.”

  I was already at the monastery door, trying to open it.

  “The guy I saw outside your house. The one I thought looked suspicious right before all the shooting.” I shook the door. It didn’t budge.

  “You sure? I don’t …”

  I ignored her. I glanced back and saw the chauffeur stiffen as our eyes met. He knew I recognized him. I pounded my fist on the monastery door, but there was no time.

  “RUN!” I pulled Simone by her shirtsleeve and raced down the street.

  “Cassie!” Simone called out, a half step behind me.

  “Trust me!” I said, afraid that any minute bullets would fly. We were getting close to an intersection. I didn’t dare look back again for fear that the half-eared man was only an arm’s length away from grabbing us.

  We rounded the corner when a small white car zoomed past us only to slam on the brakes, jump the curb, and block our escape.

  The car’s passenger door flew open.

  “Get in!” Asher shouted.

  There was no hesitation. I didn’t even stop to consider what Asher was doing driving around at six in the morning or how the half-eared man had come to be our chauffeur. I jumped in, with Simone clambering over me.

 

‹ Prev