by Wall, Nathan
“A boy?” Set pulled Harold in close and glared into his frightened gaze. There was only truth in his eyes, so he tossed Harold back onto the rooftop. “What does that information do for me?”
“The boy is a new kind of powered human. Another Architect is hunting them.” Harold looked over at the demons, who seemed rather scared of the topic. “The boy’s sister and the remake want to save the hunted from this other Architect, Ra.” Harold coughed and rubbed his chest. “These demons are corralling the gifted at Ra’s behest. Follow the trail of gifted and you’ll find your remake.”
Set rubbed his chin. “This is interesting.”
“What is?” Hermes asked. His weapon disintegrated back into the aurascales. “Your treason?”
“I’m no more treasonous than you.” Set twisted Harold’s arm under then up, snapping the shoulder and eliciting a blood-curdling scream from Harold before throwing him at Hermes’ feet. “Kill him and take me to Danu, and I’ll let you live.”
“I won’t murder an innocent man. That’s not our mission.”
“No one is innocent, that’s the great revelation of it all. No?” Set laughed, shaking his hips as he walked flamboyantly toward Sif. He took her by the hand, twirled her around, and dipped her to the sound of the Waltz in his mind. “Prove yourself worthy of the new order.”
“You’re insane,” Hermes grunted.
“And yet you follow me, so what does that make you?”
“I don’t know who Danu is, or where she’s located!” Hermes yelled.
Set skipped forward and Spartan-kicked Hermes through the sky-scraper’s massive air-conditioning systems. “You will not raise your voice to your master!” he yelled.
Sif flinched, as if wanting to help Hermes. Set gave her a ‘mind your own business’ glare. He jumped through the fire and landed on Hermes’ chest. His knee drove Hermes through the roof and the top few floors of the building. Those staying late for work scattered like roaches from the light. Crossbows of energy assembled over Set’s wrists and he disintegrated the people one by one, to Hermes’ protests.
The former warrior of the Western Corner attacked. Set grabbed the jab and struck an elbow to Hermes’ throat. Cross. Cross. Forehead ram. He followed with a barrage of blows, finishing with a spin kick and jumping hammer fist.
Hermes had always been the inferior fighter. In fact, there were few who could match the technique and ferocity of Set. He picked his subordinate up by the shoulder plates and flew back to the roof. Sif, Harold, and the demons waited like lapdogs for their return.
Set swayed in the breeze, slowly lowering to the roof. He dropped Hermes next to Harold and folded his arms.
“I’ve proven myself time and again.” Hermes crawled away from Harold. “Together we’ve slaughtered the remnants of my Corner’s half-blood descendants by the millions. We hunted children and the mentally challenged. At every instance, I’ve never backed down.”
“And you’ll do it again because I command it, lest you have something to hide.”
“Athena is dead...” A knife slid into Hermes’ grasp. He cried as he put the blade to Harold’s neck.
“You’ve claimed that fallacy long enough.” Set was eerily calm, despite the attention his little outburst had attracted from the local human population. “It would make sense for you to hide Athena with Danu. The Architect was the one who assisted Zeus in creating the Ourea. If you admit now that you’ve lied all these years—that Athena does indeed live—then this half-breed’s life may be spared.”
“It’s OK,” Harold whispered. He lunged at Hermes, almost pulling the knife into his own gut. Blood soaked through Harold’s clothes, flooding around Hermes as he knelt, shaking from sorrow.
“Tsk-tsk. You are a cold one, Hermes,” Set crowed, taunting while sarcastically shaking his head in disapproval. He whistled at Sif. “The first of them who caves with information lives.” The demons cowered while she quickly eradicated them. Set knelt by Hermes. “Either you’d kill this man to keep false pretences, or you’re truly—at heart—the slayer of children and invalids you claim to be.”
“Being charged with the duty of an Assassin is supposed to be penance, not taken lightly. Instead, you joke and revel in the pain we inflict on otherwise innocent people.” He laid Harold’s head down and placed two coins over the eyes. “You were born for this life, Set.”
“It certainly feels like it.” Set offered a hand to Hermes and pulled him up. By the time they turned around, finished with the conversation, Sif had murdered all but one piss-stained demon. He looked at Sif with curiosity as she remorsefully slung the blood from her swords. “I guess everyone has their secrets,” he chuckled and her eyes shot up to him, afraid.
“Perhaps words you should take to heart,” Hermes added. “We should head back to the Archangel’s council. They need to hear about the current status quo.”
“This changes nothing about our mission.” Set walked to the edge of the roof, pretending not to notice Sif and Hermes exchange contemplative looks. Neither was fully aware of his plan, but it was time to scatter a few breadcrumbs. “We’re to draw out this imposter who wears Azrael’s colors...”
“And then kill him?” Sif asked.
Set didn’t bother to answer the question. That part was vague on purpose.
“You intend to let the monster out?” Hermes asked. It seemed he wasn’t as dense as Set assumed.
“That was my plan, yes,” Set said matter-of-factly.
“What is it?” Sif asked.
“The start of tribulation,” Hermes replied. “The horseman, Death.”
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret. A great opportunity, if you will.” Set turned to face his fellow Assassins. “I’ve grown tired of fighting for a lie. Have you not? What happened to the four Corners, to Azrael and all before them was unjustified, yet a higher being decided otherwise. Do you not wonder why?”
“You’ve not learned anything all these years,” Hermes snickered.
“I’m just like you, brother.” Set gazed at Hermes, not joking or grinning but wearing a serious, stone-cold expression. “I still serve the one I swore an oath to despite his absence. Don’t you?”
“I’m not sure I understand. Didn’t you kill Osiris?” Hermes swallowed nervously. Set could tell this line of talk made his stomach uneasy. “Michael and the others will stop you. Father guides them.”
“Do you not find it curious that I act on my own volition and there is no one here to tell me otherwise? Where is the Armada to wipe me from existence?” Set jumped up, cupping his hand over his left ear, pretending to listen for footsteps while he mocked. “See, there’s nothing. I’m either divinely inspired, acting on Father’s accord, or he knows not what I do because he is a fraud. Free will granted by a powerless god, or predestination, what have you Hermes?”
“It does nothing to explain why you had me kill him.” Hermes shivered, pointing at Harold. He gaped at Set, his eyes watering. “How many more will die this time?”
“You showed no remorse when we snuffed them out during the French Inquisition, the fall of Rome, or the Saxon invasion. The only difference now is that your master’s precious Athena is at stake.” Set gently laid a hand on Hermes’ shoulder and spoke solemnly. “So, this I offer you one last time, are you with us or against us?”
The jagged blades slid down Set’s arms. His stare was piercing and his breathing smooth. Hermes tried to make eye contact with Sif, but her head was turned away, offering no support. Set was ready to stab him.
“I am with you.” Hermes closed his eyes. When Set let him go, he slowly looked up to his superior’s smile. Trembling, he reaffirmed his position. “I am with you.”
“I know.” Set nodded. Having practically confirmed that Athena lived, he decided to drop the subject. The threat of her discovery, along with Set’s superior physicality, would keep Hermes in line. He approached the last demon. “Lead the way,” Set commanded.
“Where to?” Hermes aske
d.
“There’s only one demon with the cojones and tact to corral the likes of gifted children and sell them to an Architect.” Set rubbed the demon’s shoulders. “Back to Beelzebub, please.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Austin IV
A platoon of feet stomped through puddles in the broken concrete, giving chase. Three helicopters moved through the sky, their rumbling vibrating through the floor. The nighttime chill pressed against his lungs. The girl they’d found—Paula, one of the first of Lian’s kind they’d actually secured—labored to breathe. Austin took her hand and dragged her along. They had to keep up with Athena, and holy hell she was fast. A searchlight poured in through the tower of broken windows. Had they been seen?
Austin ducked behind a stack of long-forgotten bricks. The abandoned industrial warehouse echoed with the sound of rotating blades and soldiers descending from the sky. “Fan out,” was the order he heard through a gunman’s com-link, thanks to his enhanced hearing.
Paula was red with exhaustion, and her dark brown hair was soaked from the rain falling through a hole in the roof above them. The splatter of water rushing through the fractured roof diffused any noise they made.
How many are there? Austin asked Lian through his mind. He knew his girlfriend would be listening in on his thoughts, and patiently waited for her reply. Something must be wrong. More than ten seconds and still no…
Eight on your level, ten below, and another twenty-five on the ground floor and building across the way, she replied. They know you’re behind the bricks, but they’re busy setting the trap. I’d move. Lian seemed rather calm about the whole thing. Of course I’m calm. You got this.
Paula is freaking out. Austin rubbed her back in order to comfort her. He faked a smile but it seemed to comfort Paula. She’s gonna crack under pressure.
Hold on, Lian replied.
Paula’s body went rigid and her jaw snapped shut. Her eyes rolled back and then forward. She smiled at Austin with a certain cockiness about her. “You don’t recognize me?” she laughed.
“You didn’t.” Austin was part impressed and part disappointed. Lian may have the power to commandeer a person’s consciousness, but that didn’t mean she should. It wasn’t worth arguing about at that moment. “I assume you have a plan.”
“We go up,” Paula, or Lian in Paula’s body, said. It was strange hearing Lian’s words come out in a posh British accent. It was even weirder to see Lian, who was a slight whisper of a woman, maneuver around in a plump teenager’s body. She tried to climb up the stack of bricks. “Oh my god, this is hard. My chubby fingers can’t grip.”
“She can’t hear you say all that, can she?” Austin asked, putting his hands around Lian’s temporary hips.
“Of course she can,” Lian said candidly. “You’re turning her on the way you’re grabbing her. She’s never been touched like this.”
“Eww, gross,” he said under his breath.
Austin looked up through the hole. It was almost thirty feet above them. His muscles grew as he shifted his body to lie somewhere between beast and man. He squatted and then jetted into a standing position, heaving Paula with all his might. In a fluid motion, he shifted into wolf-form and sprinted up the stack of bricks. The laser-guided barrels of the soldiers closing in turned his direction. Flashes of yellow and orange lit up the night.
He grabbed the ledge, reaching the next floor before Paula reached the crest of her flight, and lowered his right hand to grab her wrist. Austin flung her over his head and she landed on the roof with a splash. A few rounds tore through his left shoulder and chest. They were clean hits, going straight through. His grip on the roof slipped, and he crashed through the brick pile, tumbling to the ground. The platoon closed their ranks.
“Go,” Austin yelled while looking up at Paula’s distraught stare, knowing it was Lian who held her back. “I’m serious. Leave…” Several hooked-lines dug into his flesh and sent enough voltage into his muscles to paralyze him. He seized, unable to fight the jolt.
“We have the first target,” a voice said. Austin couldn’t open his eyes to see who it was. The stinging surge relented, allowing him to draw a single breath before starting back up. His face fell into the pooling rainwater.
Austin pushed up. His elbows rattled. It was all he could do to prevent his bones from breaking as he forced his muscles to fight against the tasers. A single military grade taser—the kind being used against him—was capable of bringing down an elephant, and there were four hooked into his flesh. He’d seen it firsthand once when he first joined the Rangers. The other men in his unit did it for sport. The pain was beyond description. Still, he pushed to his feet and roared with the force of a stampeding heard.
A streak of purple whizzed through his vision. Deafening gunfire overtook all other noise, but it was not aimed in his direction. The men around him screamed and shouted for help. Their pleas came to an abrupt end, snuffed out with gasps for air. He ripped the lines from his body while the others were distracted and fell to his knees, lethargic.
“Need a hand?” Athena asked, grabbing him under the arms and lifting him to his feet. The silver-plated helmet collapsed into her exoskeleton’s shoulders. Her platinum blonde hair was dry. Not even a drop of sweat from the constant running, or nervous perspiration, could be found on her face.
“I had a handle,” Austin panted with a tired grin. All around him men were sprawled out either dead or unconscious. She wrinkled her nose and folded her arms, with a ‘yeah, OK’ gleam in her eyes. “I hate you,” he coughed, stumbling over to the stack of bricks. He looked up and Paula was gone. “She took my advice.”
“You told her to run. Why?” Athena needed to be clued in on who was the real pilot of Paula’s body. Austin chuckled. “It is not funny,” she insisted.
“You laugh at me and me at you. Relax.” Austin patted her shoulder and motioned for her to follow. “Lian was in her brain. She’ll be fine. Now, you mind helping me up there?”
Athena put her hand under his backend and threw him like a shot-put. He landed on the roof and rolled forward. By the time he’d gathered his bearings, Athena was already standing beside him. Austin looked around, but they were the only two up top. A helicopter was coming their way. The sound was unmistakable.
“We need to get moving. We’re gonna have an eye in the sky on top of us.”
Sure enough, two aircraft emerged behind them. Their searchlights glued on Austin and Athena. He took off running, but Athena turned to face the helicopters. They opened fire. A shield the size of her body crackled with static as it materialized around her arm. It easily deflected the machine gun fire.
Austin reached the end of the roof. On the bottom level, there were more men than he could count and numerous armored vehicles. The unfinished apartment building across the parking lot was a little more than forty yards away. He spotted a few snipers taking position.
This type of military response was unheard of. The only agency capable of putting together a team like this, this quickly, was Sanderson’s. He was gone. Was Elliot in charge now?
He turned around. Athena continued to deflect machine gun fire. The second helicopter swirled around to her six. It had a kill shot. Before he could open his mouth to warn her, a chrome aircraft in the shape of an arrowhead seemed to materialize out of thin air above both helicopters. It was like it teleported out of nowhere, invisible one moment and there the next.
The helicopters took evasive maneuvers, but the arrowhead was too nimble. Green charges of circular fire spit from the tip of the vessel and engulfed the first helicopter in flames.
The second helicopter released a missile at Austin. He froze. Athena jumped in front of him and raised her shield. The impact tore a crater the size of a train car into the warehouse and blasted them both forty feet into the unfinished apartments across the parking lot.
Athena—holding Austin in her arms—tumbled across the concrete floor and through support columns like a well-hit groundball.
They reached the end of their roll and she stumbled to her feet with several sections of her aurascales torn to shreds. In the brief moment it took her armor to repair, he could see she was bleeding pretty badly.
“Can you make it?” he asked, draping her arm over his shoulders.
“Of course,” Athena replied, determined. She pushed away from Austin and her armor erupted with light. Two swords a little shorter than the length of his arms formed in her grasp. They were standing next to a staircase that had yet to be closed off. A large group of gunmen snaked their way up the steps.
“What was that thing?” Austin panted, hunching over onto his knees to collect his breath. “It looked like an alien ship.”
“I don’t know.” Athena stared down at the bottom of the stair shaft.
Lian, where are you? Austin scrunched his eyes closed and clenched his fists. When she failed to reply, he feared the worst. “There are too many people around and I’m hurting. You need to go.”
“Would your friends leave you behind?” she asked in a robotic tone because of the armor over her face. Austin shook his head no. “Then I shall not abandon you either.” Athena looked over the railing and twirled a sword in her hand. “The fastest way from one point to the next is…” She looked in his direction. The glowing eye-slits in her faceguard beckoned him to finish the statement.
“… a straight line?” he asked.
“Indeed.” She nodded and jumped over the side of the railing. Upon landing she punched the ground. A charge of static energy erupted around her, rendering the many soldiers in her vicinity inert.
“Show off,” Austin mumbled. He leapt over the railing and landed a few floors down. He repeated the process, jumping from floor-to-floor, until he reached the ground level. By the time he landed on the bottom, Athena was already well on her way to clearing the area.
Two men snatched Austin from behind. The first pulled an iron rod underneath his chin and leaned back. The second grabbed for his feet. The eyes of their masks were blacked out, as if what lingered inside weren’t human. Austin kicked one in the face and swiped his paw at the assailant to his back.