Moving Target

by Christina Diaz Gonzalez

  “DRIVE!” I yelled.

  Asher didn’t wait for us to close the door. With Simone sitting on top of me in the front seat, he peeled out, the door slamming shut on its own.

  Simone crawled to the back. “I don’t see anyone behind us,” she said, still catching her breath and looking out the window.

  I turned around to confirm we weren’t being followed. There was no one.

  “Why were you running?” Asher asked, making a quick right onto the larger street of Via Nazionale.

  “The chauffeur.” I kept looking behind us through the side-view mirror. “He was outside Simone’s house when the shooting started. He’s one of them.”

  “Are you sure?” Simone stuck her head between the two seats. “Maybe he just looked like the guy. I mean, I’ve always used that car service—”

  “The guy was missing the bottom half of his ear! It was the same guy.”

  “Fine, fine.” Simone inched back. “At least I didn’t tell the service where we wanted to go.”

  Asher didn’t slow down, getting us onto the main road of Via Vittorio Veneto and putting as much distance between us and the monastery as possible. Finally catching my breath, I realized that it was too much of a coincidence for Asher to have been driving by when we were being chased.

  “Where are you taking us?” I asked him.

  “Wherever you want,” he answered, stopping behind a garbage truck that was about to turn onto a side street.

  “And you just happened to be outside in a car at six in the morning?” Simone questioned him from the backseat. “I don’t think you’re even old enough to legally drive.”

  “So? I do a lot of things I’m not old enough to do.” He glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

  Up ahead I could see a three-story, peach-colored building with a small guardhouse in front. A large American flag was waving from the top of the center balcony. It was the US embassy. I considered how much injury I’d sustain if I jumped out of a moving car.

  “Seriously, what were you doing there?” I stared at the building as we passed it. Normally the embassy would be the first place to go for help, but nothing about the last twenty-four hours had been normal. And my father had been very clear about not trusting anyone …

  Asher took a quick look at me before focusing on the road again. “It was my uncle’s idea. He had me waiting outside for you once he saw that you wanted to leave.”

  “You two were listening to us last night?” Simone asked. “Gross.”

  “No, I don’t invade people’s privacy,” he answered, an obvious reference to our sneaking into his room. “But my laptop has always had remote access. My uncle can see anything you type up.”

  “Equally creepy,” Simone muttered.

  “So he was fine with me leaving?” I said, ignoring the back-and-forth between Asher and Simone. It was obvious neither one liked or trusted the other.

  “I don’t think it’s what he wanted, but he knew he couldn’t stop you. He was surprised that you’d leave so soon, but since you contacted a driver … he knew you were serious and he had to act fast.”

  It felt like I was a pawn in all this. Where even if I thought decisions were my own, they’d already been calculated by someone else. It didn’t matter what choices I made, it felt like my destiny was in someone else’s hands.

  “Wait, did Brother Gregorio know the half-eared guy would be there?”

  “No.” Asher kept his eyes on the road. “But he worried someone might come after you. That’s why he asked that I follow you. You know, help out if you got into trouble. Guess I was needed a little earlier than expected.”

  “Yeah, right.” Simone shook her head. “He’s so worried that he leaves it up to you to protect us.”

  Protect and serve. That’s what Asher had said his job was.

  “Zio is worried. And he really does want Cassie to be safe.” Asher glanced over at me. “You should know that my uncle sacrificed everything when he left his life with the Hastati. He believed that their work protecting the spear was important, but he just couldn’t be part of killing innocent people who had the mark. He gave it all up to help people like you.”

  I nodded, but I could hear Simone grumble something in the back.

  My heartbeat finally slowed down to a more normal rhythm as we all fell into an uncomfortable silence. It was strange; even though I barely knew Asher, I did feel safer with him around. Maybe it was a numbers thing. Three people being better than two. Maybe it was something else.

  Asher continued driving, making a few turns that led us away from the center of Rome. Finally, he spoke up. “So what’s in Civita di Bagnoregio?”

  I stayed silent. How did he know that’s where we were going? Then I remembered that Brother Gregorio could see everything we researched last night.

  “That is where we’re going …” Asher paused. “Right?”

  Before I could answer, Simone piped up. “We? I don’t remember inviting you.”

  “Your other driver didn’t really seem to work out, now did he?” Asher retorted.

  I opened my eyes as wide as I could at Simone. She had to be a little nicer to Asher if we wanted his help to get where we needed to go. “It was something my dad mentioned.”

  “Did he say anything else?”

  I realized that if Asher was going to stick with us, I’d have to let him in on what my dad had written. But I wasn’t ready to trust him. This was going to be a need-to-know kind of situation. “It’s a bit strange, but he said, ‘nadie recibe el secreto hasta que el hombre que nadie ve contesta la pregunta,’ which means—”

  “No one receives the secret until the man that no one sees answers the question.” He grinned, and a dimple appeared high on his cheek. “I took five years of Spanish.” He paused for a moment. “So I’m guessing you’re going to look for the man no one sees, right?”

  “Exactly,” I said. “We find him, then hopefully the secret is revealed.”

  Behind us, Simone was bent over, and I could hear her unzipping something. I turned completely around to see her opening a backpack by her feet. “What’s in here, Asher?” she asked, although she was already rummaging through it.

  “Just some clothes and stuff I brought along. Didn’t know how long I’d be following you.”

  Simone took inventory. “Water bottles, croissants, a first-aid kit, zip-ties, duct tape … a switchblade?”

  “For emergencies,” he explained matter-of-factly.

  “Well, aren’t you a Boy Scout,” Simone said, then silently mouthed “creepy” to me before taking a bite out of a croissant.

  I shrugged, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to fully explain why a part of me wanted to trust Asher. It was a gut instinct. Something in the way he looked at me that made me feel like he was on my side. Then again, I was supposed to be some kind of oddity that could trigger a change in destiny … maybe that’s what he was looking at.

  “By all means,” Asher said, “feel free to have some of my food.”

  “Thanks,” Simone said, her mouth full as she pulled out her phone. “Cassie, can you believe my mom is actually texting me to see how I am?” She pretended to sound annoyed, but I knew better. She secretly craved the attention, even if she would rather die than admit it. “She’s already sent me two texts this morning.”

  “You have a phone? How stupid are you? Get rid of it,” Asher commanded.

  “No way. I have everything—”

  “Simone, he’s right. You shouldn’t have it on,” I said. “They can track us with it.”

  “If you have to call your mommy,” Asher said sarcastically, “you can use one of the burner phones in the side pocket of the bag.”

  “I don’t have to do anything.” Simone unzipped the side pocket. “And what’s a burner phone?”

  “A prepaid cell phone, right?” I had heard the term used in movies when drug dealers or spies wanted to talk to one another. “It can’t be traced.”

  Asher nodded as he t
urned onto a ramp for the main highway out of Rome. “Yeah, and either throw away your phone or make sure you take the battery out.” He glanced at Simone through the rearview mirror. “There are ways the Hastati can trace phones even when they’re turned off.”

  Simone didn’t say anything else and instead pulled out her phone battery. She tossed it on the seat next to the bag of croissants and I gave her a quick nod of approval.

  I watched as the scenery outside our window changed from cityscape to countryside. Now instead of brick and stucco buildings, we were surrounded by large expanses of dried, grassy fields that lined the autostrada. It reminded me of the weekend road trips my dad would take me on. Just the two of us driving off to explore some new towns like Perugia and Siena: We’d go to the museums or old churches. I wished he were here now.

  Suddenly, the warm memory turned cold as I realized that many of those places were written in his notebook. Maybe the trips were part of his search for the spear and had nothing to do with spending time with me. I clenched my teeth. How could he have kept all this from me? He should’ve told me. I’d be more prepared to deal with all of it. Now I was on the run across Italy from unknown assassins and having to figure things out all on my own. Great job, Papi.

  “Want one?” Simone asked, grabbing another croissant. “Better to eat now than be hungry later.”

  “Sure,” I said, though I really had no appetite.

  I took a bite, and in my head I started going over all the things we’d researched the night before.

  Asher interrupted my thoughts. “So besides the man that no one sees, what else do you think is in Civita?”

  I answered with the truth. “The only thing that seems to matter anymore … the spear.”

  The four-lane highway sliced through the rolling fields that marked the Italian countryside. Every once in a while I’d see a large villa in the distance or the bell tower of an old church with a small village surrounding it, but mostly it was desolate. Eventually, we left the highway and exited onto a winding road that took us through a wooded area.

  We’d been driving for almost two hours and I hadn’t even seen a glimpse of Civita di Bagnoregio rising up from the valley like in the pictures. Behind me, Simone had her head leaning against the doorframe. For someone who was so suspicious of Asher, she’d fallen asleep within the first twenty minutes of our trip, leaving me to stare out the window in silence.

  “Almost there?” Simone asked, her voice groggy from the nap.

  “We’re getting close,” Asher called back.

  We’d just driven by a store selling pottery by the side of the road, which was followed by a bar that had a small restaurant attached. A minute later, more businesses and apartment buildings popped up, with cars, Vespas, and motorcycles lining both sides of the road. A sign indicated that we had just entered Bagnoregio, and before I knew it, we were in the heart of the small town.

  But this wasn’t Civita di Bagnoregio.

  This was the opposite of the Dying City. In Bagnoregio there was life: Residents crossed the streets and made their way to work or school.

  The map function on Asher’s phone showed that we were still headed in the right direction. As we slowed down in front of the main piazza, I pointed to the cradled phone on the dash. “The footbridge to Civita should be right up ahead. After the church.”

  “Have you been here before, Asher?” Simone asked, the bumpy cobblestone street making her voice vibrate with each syllable.

  “No. I’d never even heard of this place until late last night,” Asher said. “Zio woke me up and told me about …” He bit the words back, not finishing the last part of his thought.

  “Told you what?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Just to follow and help you.”

  Simone scoffed. “Dude, not even Cassie believes that.” I shot her a dirty look. “Sorry. You know what I mean,” she said to me.

  It was obvious that there was more to whatever Brother Gregorio had told Asher. “What did he really tell you?”

  Asher shook his head. “He reminded me of my duty.”

  “Your duty?” I didn’t want to be an obligation or someone’s charity case. “Well, you don’t have to do anything. You can drop us off in Civita, and we’ll figure things out.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. I want to be here. Zio has been preparing me for years. I just didn’t think I’d have to do it so soon.”

  “Do what so soon?” I asked.

  “This. Deal with the spear. I know how important it is.” I could see him looking at me from the corner of his eye. “I know how important you are.”

  I turned and looked out the window. I didn’t like the feeling that so much was riding on me. It wasn’t fair. Asher might have been training for this for years, but I’d just been told about it.

  We were moving at a snail’s pace as we squeezed between the buildings of the ever-narrowing street. There were literally only a few inches between the walls and either side of the car. We wouldn’t be able to open the doors even if we tried. Then, like squeezing a tube of toothpaste, we were suddenly pushed out onto a road that hugged the side of the mountain. As we rounded the bend, Civita di Bagnoregio came into full view.

  It was exactly like the pictures: perched atop a narrow plateau that rose up out of the valley, like a medieval metropolis from the past. The cement footbridge stretched across the valley linking Civita to the town of Bagnoregio and to the present, creating a lifeline for the dying city.

  Asher pulled into an empty lot covered in gravel near the entrance of the bridge. We were the only people in the area.

  “Let’s go,” I said, getting out of the car. There was a light wind and the temperature was considerably cooler than in Rome. I immediately zipped up my leather jacket.

  Simone pushed up my seat and shrank back once the cold wind entered the car. “With all the cute jackets I have at home …” She tugged on the long sleeves of the T-shirt she had borrowed from me before stepping out of the car.

  “Here!” Asher was in the back with the trunk open. He tossed a dark-blue sweatshirt at Simone and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Might not be fashionable, but it’s warm and relatively clean.”

  Simone sniffed it. “Relatively is right,” she muttered, but still slipped it on.

  I looked up at the crumbling buildings that teetered on the edge of the plateau and the bell tower that sprouted up from the middle of the town. According to our research, in all of Civita there were probably no more than fifteen residents, so I hoped one of them was the man we were looking for … even if it was a man who no one saw.

  “Before we keep going”—Asher leaned against the car—“we have to go over some ground rules.”

  “Ground rules?” I turned to face him. “Who put you in charge?” My plan was to get the spear, trade it in for my dad’s safety, and have our lives go back to normal. I wasn’t about to follow someone else’s ideas of what could or could not happen.

  “Don’t be a control freak, Asher. Cassie is the one with the birthmark, not you.” Simone slammed the trunk closed. “We make our own rules.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Asher dangled the car keys. “Who got you here, and who’s taking you back? And who knows more about how the spear really works?” He waited for a moment, then stuffed the keys in his pocket. “Yeah, that would be me. That’s why we have to go over some stuff.”

  I wanted to get going. We were wasting time. “So what are these rules?”

  “There’s only two of them for now. The first is that, if we get the spear, we all agree to take it back to Brother Gregorio, because he’ll know how to get it into the right hands. Okay?”

  “That’s not really a rule,” Simone answered, chewing on one of her fingernails.

  “That’s fine,” I said. “I was planning on doing that anyway. What else?”

  “The second one is a rule.” He looked at Simone, who lifted a single eyebrow in response. “It’s that Cassie can never touch the spear. Ever.”
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  “Why?” Simone asked.

  “Cassie knows why,” Asher answered cryptically.

  “It’s the binding thing, isn’t it?” I asked, recalling the word Brother Gregorio had used the day before and the sentence I had read in the Guardian’s Journal.

  Asher grimaced, then nodded.

  “But it really shouldn’t matter if I touch it because the power is stuck inside that bad guy, Tobias, right?” I said. “He’s bound to it until he dies.”

  “Yeah, but he could die at any time. You can’t take the chance.”

  “I don’t know,” Simone mused. “Would it be so bad if Cassie had that power? I mean, she could choose her own destiny. Pick whatever she wants to happen in the future.”

  “But I could never choose for things to go back to normal.” I looked at Asher for confirmation. “Right?”

  He nodded. “And the Hastati would kill you for sure,” he added.

  “What? Even if I give them the spear?” No one had mentioned being killed if I became bound. Not that I planned on doing that anyway.

  “Well, yeah. You need both the bound person and the spear to control destiny. Throughout history whoever was bound to the spear had to be trusted by the Hastati … approved by them. I thought you knew that.”

  I shook my head.

  “Oh,” Simone said softly.

  “Well, I won’t be touching it, that’s for sure.” I stuck my hands in my leather jacket. “Let’s just go find it.”

  As we walked across the footbridge over the gorge between modern Bagnoregio and medieval Civita di Bagnoregio, I kept looking back at the car. It was obvious that there was no one else either behind or ahead of us, and yet I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got an eye out, too,” Asher said in a low voice.

  I nodded, but wondered exactly who else, besides the half-eared man and the motorcycle-riding assassin, we were supposed to be keeping an eye out for.

  As we walked up the steep incline of the bridge, I could hear Simone huffing and puffing next to me. “This is worse than PE,” she mumbled.