Artificial Light (Evolution of Angels Book 3)

by Wall, Nathan

  Chapter Three

  Lian I

  A foghorn blared in the distance, the sound burrowing its way through the dense metal walls. Flickering light pushed through a crack in the cabin’s only door. The subtle swaying back-and-forth of the large freight tanker on the waves could be felt just a little when Lian laid flat in her cot.

  Her fingers snatched up a fistful of stiff bed sheets. She pulled the covers up to her chin and curled herself into the fetal position. Her forehead was on fire, her nose was red and runny, and a shiver took hold of her spine. The room was drafty. For three weeks straight, frigid, salty air had been circulating through the cabin.

  I hope Austin finds him. Lian could hear Claire’s thoughts.

  “Why are you sitting in the dark?” she asked. Claire flicked a small desk light on.

  “I didn’t want to wake you.” Claire knelt by Lian’s side and rubbed a damp cloth over her friend’s face. She moved a few strands of black hair out of Lian’s eyes and then made her way over to the sink, placing the cloth under the flowing water and wringing it out. “You’re slightly warmer than earlier, but I think that’s a good sign. Maybe your fever will break soon.”

  “Land’s close?” Lian replied. She spoke more out of hope than confidence.

  “Sounds like it.” Claire nodded, walking back to Lian’s side. “Jarrod wandered off again. He’s been ignoring us.”

  “More dreams?”

  “If that’s what you want to call them,” Claire sighed, gently dabbing Lian’s lips, cheeks and head. “It’s more like he’s following a beacon. The past few months have been crazy for all of us, I suppose.”

  “You need to stay away from him.” Lian shifted her stare downward and made eye contact with Claire. In the middle of the room, Lian could see the outline of Sanderson, like a hazy mirage. Echoes of his voice stirred in her head, constantly explaining things to her and apologizing for past sins.

  Means… it matters, the illusion said, phasing in and out of focus.

  Lian squinted, trying to give the outline more energy. It didn’t work. Lian knew it was a piece of Sanderson stuck in her conscious. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she wouldn’t let go. Somehow, as the surge of energy from Maya’s collapsing starstone tore through Sanderson, the thoughts she’d latched onto in his head copied across, saving a piece of his soul. The yellowish static energy, which only she could see, dissipated.

  “Means what matters?” Lian asked herself. She couldn’t see how it correlated, nor did she feel like trying to piece it together. Her focus was once again reserved for Claire.

  “He’s not near me even when his body is present.” Claire shrugged, sitting on the cot at Lian’s feet. She leaned against the wall and rested her chin on her knees. “He’s never really present for any of us, if you think about it.”

  “I try not to,” Lian said, grabbing Claire’s hand. They locked fingers. “Have I ever said thank you?”

  “Trying to cheer me up?” Claire rolled her eyes and leaned toward Lian. “Were you listening in on mine and Austin’s chat about sugar or cream?”

  “No. I just wanted to say thank you.” Lian shook her head. Means it matters?

  “You don’t have to thank me.”

  “You don’t have to care for me while I’m sick.” Lian coughed, pulling the sheet over her face.

  “I’m just trying to pull my weight. Try to feel like I actually hold some importance.”

  “Are you scared?” Lian cleared her throat and lowered the sheet. She puffed the pillow under her head and sat up.

  “At first I was. But I’ve been living with this sickening sense in my gut for a while now. Would it be right to call it fear, or should I just assume this is the new normal?” Claire shrugged, unsure of anything she should feel. She looked at Lian. “Should I be scared?”

  “No,” Lian giggled, shaking her head, “I meant are you scared you don’t matter? But, given that you raised the question, I don’t know what to expect.”

  Claire nodded. “Do you think this woman can help? The one who has your brother, that is? I can’t wait to get off this damn boat.”

  “Sanderson and my father trusted her, once upon a time. If she can’t help us, then we’re truly on our own.”

  “So we’re just going to disembark and she’ll show up? I suppose crazier things have happened.”

  The definition of crazy had been rewritten long ago in Lian’s book. Shortly after working under Sanderson, the word had lost all meaning. The woman they sought may not show when the boat journey was over, but Lian knew whatever part of Sanderson was left inside her would show them the way. Maybe they weren’t truly alone after all.

  Chapter Four

  Austin II

  The sound of waves breaking along the side of the massive freight ship echoed through the frost-bitten fog. Austin could see Jarrod leaning over the rails close to the bow of the ship while resting his forehead in his hands. The smell of salt water was sharp. The ship plunged into large waves head-on in an attempt to make up time.

  Austin’s hands glided over the frigid railing as he staggered towards the front of the ship. He walked up a few narrow steps and stood atop a landing. The foghorn sounded out into the void, bouncing off the windows of the observation deck behind him.

  “I’m no sailor, but I’m pretty sure that foghorn means land ahead,” Austin said, glancing around for any crew members. “You couldn’t wait to get some fresh air? We shouldn’t be up here right now.”

  “There’s no such thing as fresh air anymore,” Jarrod said through his hands, pressing his palms firmly against his face as he rubbed. He pulled his hands away, gazing at them as they shook. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he went rigid. “You’re right. We should return before we’re seen.”

  The scent of harsh cologne drowned out the sea air. Austin’s gut told him Jarrod also knew someone else was nearby.

  “Shouldn’t you gentleman be hard at work?” A sailor approached Jarrod from the right. “I don’t think you two are cleared to be up here. Let me see your badges.”

  “Austin, get rid of him.” Jarrod winced, turning his face and closing his eyes. A blue light glowed through his eyelids. His knees buckled. A glow, similar to the one described to Austin earlier, crept through Jarrod’s skin.

  “Yes, sorry sir.” Austin stood between Jarrod and the sailor. “My buddy here is a little under the weather, as you can see, and the doc said it’d be good for him to get some fresh air.”

  “Regardless, your badge, please,” the sailor demanded, standing on his tip-toes to get to eye level with Austin.

  “Yeah, we’re new. Signed up just recently on your last docking in Baltimore.”

  “Don’t make me ask for it again,” the man said in a deep, breathy voice as he got in Austin’s face.

  “I’m sorry,” Austin half-heartedly laughed, patting his chest and pants down. He turned and grabbed Jarrod. “It seems we’ve left them back in our cabin. We’ll be on our way.”

  “Not so fast,” the sailor persisted, reaching for Jarrod. Austin latched his palm around the man’s fat wrist. The sailor was awestruck by Austin’s hand as it grew in size. Austin’s eyes took a slight beastly shape. “What are you? Are you one of them?”

  “I’m just a guy trying to do his job and look after his friend.” Austin nodded with a blank expression. He twisted the ship worker’s arm just a little bit. “I can understand how insubordination will hurt a crew, so we’ll be off when we dock, first thing. You won’t have to deal with or hear from us again. Sound good?”

  “Sure, that sounds just fine.”

  “Alright, then.” Austin let go of the ship worker’s arm, slapping it to the side. Jarrod stepped away from Austin, holding his left hand up as he walked down the steps with his eyes closed. “Are you sure you’re OK?”

  Jarrod nodded. “I am.”

  “Let me help you before you hurt yourself.” Austin reached for Jarrod, but his friend just side-stepped out of the w
ay. “Come on...”

  “I have to learn to deal on my own,” Jarrod insisted.

  Austin looked back at the ship worker and smiled nervously, shrugging his shoulders. The sailor stood in place, seemingly unable to move. Austin walked back up the steps and waved his hand in front of the sailor’s eyes. He didn’t blink.

  “Lian, you in there?” Austin asked, staring into the man’s dark green eyes.

  Just hurry up and come back, her voice replied in Austin’s head. He had no intention of letting you just leave. They’re all spooked. We can’t show them what we’ve become.

  “I assume you’ve taken care of his memory.” Austin leaned back, smirking, folding his arms and tapping his foot.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Jarrod yelled back at Austin. “You know you can talk to her while you walk, right?”

  “Yeah, of course.” Austin held his breath.

  You forgot.

  “Oh shut up,” Austin whispered to himself.

  You know I can hear that loud and clear in your thoughts?

  He rolled his eyes and followed Jarrod.

  That too.

  “You can get out of my head now,” Austin grumbled.

  Jarrod was already a good distance ahead. A blinking sea buoy in the distance snared Austin’s attention as the sun crept over the horizon. He stopped for a second, wondering why the ship continued at its fast pace. A large wave jostled him side to side. Austin turned to make a comment to Jarrod, but his friend was already gone.

  Panic struck him. Austin sprinted down the side of the ship and found a door to his left slowly closing on its own. He rushed up the steps and stuck his hand between the door and the frame, noticing the handle had been ripped away.

  “What the hell?” Austin panted. He shook his head, wondering what could have done such a thing but already knowing the answer. He walked into the inner corridor, finding the lights off. He removed the flashlight from his belt, turned it on, and scanned the area for his friend. “Jarrod, where are you?”

  A light escaped underneath a door at the far end of the hall. He investigated the room. Everyone inside was dead, slouched back or hunched over with their eyes burned out. When his breathing stuttered, Lian poked inside his head.

  You’re worried, she said. Why?

  “Don’t ask stupid questions,” Austin grunted, turning and frantically looking around the ship. He opened another door. Inside were more dead bodies. “Who else can you poke inside to help find him?”

  Give me a second.

  “I’m headed to the bridge,” Austin shouted, sprinting back the way he’d come.

  The ship snapped up suddenly and he fell to the floor, hitting his chin. He crawled his way back to his feet. Once out on the deck of the ship he spotted the bridge light, still blazing. A ringing buoy caught his attention. The sun burned through the fog and the hazy outline of a city was now in full view. The freight ship powered in through the Bristol Channel. He stared at a small island between the ship and the city, and noticed that another small land mass was visible portside. Both islands were a little over a mile away from either side of the ship, but more miniature rocky landings were sprouting up in the water all around them. It was only a matter of time before they clipped one.

  Just a few people who are in their cabins, asleep. Where is everyone? Austin, what’s going on?

  “We’re not stopping.” He took two steps back and then lunged forward. His body density increased. Muscles bulged and his skin stretched until it was gray. Hairs sprouted over his body. The jaw of a wolf formed. His face transitioned, completing his transformation into a beast.

  He pounced up the stacked containers, digging his claws into the metal as he leapt forward. Climbing up the makeshift tower, he peeked over both shoulders and saw several helicopters and speedboats heading in his direction. His focus turned forward, crashing through the window of the ship’s bridge. He stood on his hind legs and his body returned to its human form.

  My god, what’d he do? Lian asked, seeing the dead bodies sprawled about through Austin’s eyes.

  “How do I slow it?” Austin asked. The rigid coastline of dark greens and brown ambers was fast approaching. “Lian, of the crewmen still alive, which of them knows how to stop this thing?”

  Already ahead of you, she responded. His eyes rolled back as she placed the instructions in his head.

  Austin fell to his knees, rubbing his forehead raw. He stumbled towards the control panel. The correct stopping sequence wrestled through his mind all at once. The instructions were indecipherable. Another wave slammed over the side of the ship and dislodged a few containers, dragging them down into the water. Suddenly, the sequence was clear.

  He reached for the lever to halt the engines. A hand covered in black armor and pale blue Aurascales grabbed his wrist. The beaming blue eyes hidden behind a black skull face stared at him.

  “Jarrod.” Austin nervously grinned as sweat poured over his brow. He tried pulling his arm back, but Jarrod’s grip grew tighter. He casually moved his other hand towards the lever. “I know you’re in there, buddy. Let me stop this thing so we can save us all from another disaster.”

  Jarrod twisted Austin’s arm and then slung him around, bashing him into a control panel. Austin rolled onto his chest and shape-shifted back into his lumbering beast form. He tackled Jarrod, slamming him through the glass wall and over the side railing. He watched as his friend fell to the bottom deck, crashing through several containers.

  The crew is alerted. Some are heading your way, some towards Jarrod. If we don’t snap him out of the funk, he’ll kill them.

  “I have to stop the ship or we’ll all die.” Austin stood up, still in his werewolf form, and pulled back on the lever. The ship’s propellers started pushing in reverse. The ship creaked, throwing him off balance. “Control the ones headed towards Jarrod. Stop them.”

  Austin, they’re close to you. They have weapons.

  Two crewmen rushed through the door, guns drawn. They took one look at Austin and opened fire, landing three shots. Austin stumbled backwards and fell over the side of the snapped railing. He bounced off the edge of a broken container and landed on the deck.

  The freighter, unable to slow down enough, hit the shallow seabed and shook uncontrollably. The bow rode up the shoreline, throwing several containers over the side and into the raging waters. One rolled over and crashed towards Austin. Unable to move with his ribs broken, he held his arms up and waited for the impact, closing his eyes. But it never came.

  He lowered his arms to find Jarrod standing in his full armor over the top of him. Austin swallowed and smiled with hope. Jarrod tossed the container into the shallow water and offered his hand to Austin as the facial armor retracted.

  “Are you... you?” Austin asked, hesitant to give his hand.

  “Where are we?” Jarrod shook his head, his eyes blood red, and grabbed Austin underneath the arms. He slung his friend’s arm over his shoulder. Jarrod turned to walk back towards their cabin.

  The ship ran ashore a stone’s throw from the dry beach. People from the seaside village walked out of their shops and homes, even pulling their cars over to the side of the road to look at the large freight ship stuck on their beach. Two helicopters circled overhead.

  “Lian,” Austin hacked. The stabbing burn in his ribs caused him to pause. Jarrod rested him against the wall. “Lian, can you get rid of the helicopters?” Jarrod and Austin waited for a minute. When no reply came, Austin began to worry. “Lian?”

  “You can’t hear her?” Jarrod asked. Lian had never been able to communicate with Jarrod telepathically.

  “Something has to be wrong.” Austin tapped his head. “She’s always poking around up here. What if…”

  “Don’t say it.” Jarrod shook his head and picked Austin back up. “They’re gonna be fine. I’ll get us out of this.”

  Chapter Five

  Set I

  The orchestra moved as one, setting an eerie mood as the lights
of the opera house dimmed and shifted from a light green to a dark tangerine. Perched in an alcove, high above the rafters in an old, seldom used attic space, Set admired the first movement of Brahms’ third symphony. His right hand danced as if he were the conductor. He rocked back and forth, closing his eyes and swaying his head to the stream of violins. The music flowed through his body and carried him to a place far beyond the rats’ nests and spider webs which littered his immediate surroundings. The strings and woodwinds were the river and he was a leaf in the current. Briefly, the jarring cold of the drafty storage space was a distant memory. The moment’s serenity was a bitter reminder of what wasn’t allowed to his kind.

  This space, though dingy and repulsive, was all his. No one else knew about it. Life was more tolerable that way. Since happening upon it sometime in the mid-19th century while hunting down and executing a pair of angels who’d refused to fight in the Last Great War, he always found time to stow himself away for a show while on a mission. Since his newest target wasn’t too far from here—just a few countries away—he thought a couple of minutes could be spared to rejuvenate and prepare for the incessant whining of Hermes and the dull, slow comments of Sif, his fellow Assassins.

  The beacon on his left wrist pad vibrated. Hermes wanted his location. Set double tapped the light and the beacon went away. Ten minutes wouldn’t even factor in as a nanosecond on the celestial scale. They could wait. The beacon vibrated again and this time two lights popped up. Both were pinging him.

  “Dammit.” Set rubbed the bridge of his nose and slowly exhaled. The wood floor creaked as he stood. He took one last admiring glance at the performance and turned off his recording device. The aurascales slid over his face, forming the silver faceguard that resembled a beast long since extinct. Modern humans didn’t even have a name for it.