by Alysh Ellis
“No.” Tybor’s voice cut through her panic. “Keep going. If we were innocent travelers, we wouldn’t think they were after us because we haven’t committed any breach of the Highway Code. When they do stop us, that’s the way we’ll play it. Bewildered tourists who have no idea why we’ve been held up.”
Though the blood thundering in her ears made it hard to hear the approaching sirens and the shaking in her hands made driving difficult, she carried on, eyes flicking nervously to the mirror, wondering what would happen when the police car caught up with them. She didn’t have long to wait. With a powerful roar, the car drew alongside them. The sleek lines of the sports vehicle filled her window and then pulled ahead. She waited for the cop to indicate that she should pull over. When he didn’t she slowed a little, prepared for him to swing into the lane in front of her to block her progress.
The police car rushed past her, lights still flashing, sirens screeching. She watched the red glow of its taillights shrinking in the distance and only then did her breathing begin to return to normal.
“He wasn’t after us. He didn’t even look.” The shaking in her hands worsened as relief stole the rigidity from her muscles.
Tybor leaned back in his seat and said with detached calm, “Where are we?”
Judie looked up at a road sign flashing by. “We’re about to cross into France. We take the next exit to Calais, then once we get to the Chunnel we get on the train to Dover. The crossing takes about an hour.” She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Can Huon last that long without another stop?”
Tybor swiveled around to look at Huon. “He’s still asleep and breathing normally. Better to keep going and get him home as soon as I can.” Then he turned back, folded his arms and said, “Wake me when we get to the train.”
Judie glanced across at him. His eyes were shut but his jaw was clenched so tightly that Judie knew he couldn’t be sleeping. He remained silent and still and she sighed, turning her attention back to the road. Their conversation had clearly ended.
The silence continued until they joined the queue of cars waiting to board the cross-Channel train. Judie pushed open the door and stood up, stretching her tired, aching muscles. Tybor sat up, unfolded his arms and watched her through narrowed eyes until the queue ahead of her began to move and she got back in, following the directions of the loading crew.
Once the car was in place with other vehicles in front of and behind them, Tybor offered to go and get her some food, coffee, anything she needed, but her brain was fogged with fatigue and the thought of eating nauseated her. She shook her head, checked on Huon, asleep again on the backseat, then tilted her seat, dropped her head back against the rest and closed her eyes.
* * * * *
She ran through twisting city streets, chased by policemen wielding bolts of lightning. She tried to run faster but her legs were heavy, refusing to obey her commands, each step a marathon of endurance. In the distance, she saw Huon and Tybor, hands held fast. She called out to them but they turned their backs and walked away. She shouted for them to wait but they began to run, then disappeared in a blinding flash so bright that it jolted her upright, her eyes wide open in panic.
* * * * *
She gasped, then focused on Tybor, who leaned in through the open door, letting the overhead light shine in her eyes. “We’re ready to unload.”
He slid back inside and she started the engine. They rolled off the loading ramp and motored slowly away. They were not singled out for inspection—no one seemed interested in their nondescript little vehicle. Judie grinned to herself. That bland, uninteresting car contained an arsenal that would make any anti-terrorist squad snap to attention.
By the time they reached the outskirts of Amesbury, the eastern sky had lightened to a pale-gray and lemon. The little car reached Stonehenge and Judie drew to a halt in the deserted car park.
“It’s smaller than I thought it would be,” Tybor said.
Judie too had expected something bigger, more imposing. Tybor pushed open the car door and motioned for her to stay where she was. He took a few paces away from the car and turned 360 degrees then reached in to once more lift Huon’s unconscious form. As tired as she was, Judie had no intention of being left out of anything now. She scrambled out and walked over to the two men.
“You should have stayed in the car,” Tybor snapped.
“Why?” she replied, looking across the flat, open landscape. “Unless the police or other Gatekeepers parachuted in and are hiding behind one of the standing stones, there’s no one here but us.” She rubbed her arms, warding off the early-morning chill.
“I don’t need you anymore,” Tybor said, dropping to his knees to lay Huon on the ground.
His words, colder than the icy morning air, sent shivers skittering up and down her spine, spreading out in sharp, stabbing spikes. Her knees trembled and she locked them, uncertain of their support.
“Then this is it?” she whispered. “I’m just supposed to go back to the car, drive away and forget I ever met you?”
“Yes,” Tybor replied.
“No,” a weak voice whispered, barely more than a breath but enough to draw both Tybor’s and Judie’s attention. “It can’t end like this,” Huon continued, pushing himself up on his elbows. “I won’t let it. I want to stay here.”
“Huon!” Judie dropped to her knees beside him, examining his face, feeling the tension leave her shoulders as she noticed Huon’s gray, pallid flesh begin to plump up and resume its beautiful, glowing ivory color.
“He’s going to be all right, isn’t he?” she said to Tybor.
Tybor knelt on Huon’s other side. He cupped his hands around Huon’s jaw, his lean fingers reaching up and stroking the smooth skin covering Huon’s carved cheekbones. His eyes locked on the younger man’s and Judie knew that for the moment, for Tybor, the rest of the world did not exist. Then he reached out one hand and covered hers.
“Huon has regained enough strength to survive the transition, but until his power is restored the reprieve is temporary. We have to go.” His hand gripped hers tightly. “Walk away, Judie. A clean break is better.”
“Better for who?” she cried.
“For all of us.” Tybor spoke through clenched teeth. “For a little while we were able to be together but, like the effect of Stonehenge on Huon’s health, it was temporary. We are Dvalinn. You are human. Your way is not ours and can never be.” He wrapped his arms around Huon and looked at her once more. “Goodbye, Judie. Live well.”
The air shimmered around him and Judie heard Huon’s voice shouting, “No!”
Then there was nothing but silence and the looming pillars of the ancient stones and a vast, aching emptiness.
Pain kept Judie slumped there, head down, forehead on her knees, tears streaming from her eyes. They had to come back. Huon wouldn’t leave her like this. Tybor had to see he was wrong. So she waited.
At last she heard a voice behind her. She tensed, but as whoever it was grew nearer she heard not the two men she loved but a loud, female, Australian-accented voice.
“Oh. Will you look at that? It must be one of those Druid people worshipping the solstice or something.”
Judie dragged herself to her feet.
“Sorry to disturb your devotions, Ma’am,” the voice continued.
Judie didn’t turn or respond, just walked away, circling the monument until she could return to the car. She started the engine, then stared into space. She didn’t know where to go or what to do. She didn’t have a job, didn’t know if the police were after her…and she didn’t care.
The engine revved as her foot weighed on the accelerator. The first thing she needed to do was return the car to its owner. He’d been generous with her and did not deserve to be inconvenienced.
Sleep would normally have been an option, but she couldn’t bear the thought of lying down in a bed empty of anyone but her. She wasn’t sure she would ever be able to stand it again. When exhaustion forced her off the
road, she would snatch a few minutes’ rest in the car. Then she would move on. Perhaps that was the only way to survive. Keep moving, always moving, to stay ahead of the pain.
Chapter Seven
At a roadside café, Judie bought a strong black coffee, sat down at a table with her phone and Googled Brian Hopewood’s name again. Still no news reports of his death, the destruction of his office or anything else. She didn’t understand why, but Brian had always been secretive about his work and perhaps he had someone else working for him who had been able to hush the whole thing up permanently. A second search showed no new entries for her name either. That should have relieved her tension but she found she didn’t care.
Back in the car, she tossed her computer case into the backseat and drove until her eyes were gritty, then she pulled into a rest area and slept. Every big rig that thundered past, or sound of a police siren wailing, caused her to stir and turn in her seat and eventually, feeling little more refreshed than when she’d stopped, she forced herself to continue her journey.
The pattern repeated itself over and over again as she covered the distance back to where she had last believed happiness was possible. At Klagenfurt, she parked the car and stumbled out, having to grab the door pillar to stop herself from falling.
When she rapped on the door of the apartment to return the keys, the car’s owner gasped. “What happened? You look terrible.” He stiffened. “Is my car all right?”
“Yeah, Johann, it’s fine,” she muttered. “Thanks for the loan.”
“You want to come inside?” he asked. “Freshen up a bit?”
“No, thanks. I’ll just be going.” Judie turned, but Johann reached out a hand to stop her.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but you can’t go outside looking like that.” He swallowed, then rushed on, “Or smelling like that. You come inside and have a shower while I make you something to eat.”
“Thanks. Once again I’m in your debt,” she said and stepped over the threshold. The mirror in the hallway reflected an image so horrible she wouldn’t have blamed Johann if he’d slammed the door in her face. Her hair stood on end in dry, knotted tufts, her pale, haggard skin and the bags and dark circles under her eyes made her look like a wannabe zombie. Her pungent, unwashed odor, obvious now it had been pointed out to her, was reminiscent of the undead too.
The shower and a comb took care of the surface problems, but nothing could touch the core of cold within her. Johann offered to let her stay with him and rest but she shook her head.
“Where are you off to now?” he asked.
Without conscious volition, she opened her mouth. “Back to Venice,” she said.
Once the words had been uttered, they crystallized into conviction. Everything had started in Venice. Without knowing why, she felt she had to return there to try to make sense of it, to try to regain her sense of self.
“I have a train to catch.”
Johann said something but she didn’t listen, already halfway down the stairs before she heard the door slam shut behind her.
There was barely time to purchase a ticket before the train pulled into the station. She climbed on board and settled back in her seat. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the gentle vibration over the tracks acted on her sleep-deprived brain like a narcotic and she fell into slumber. Erotic images of herself, Tybor and Huon, naked, entangled, entwined and linked, flickered through her mind. Yet when she tried to focus on one, to see Huon’s beautiful face or Tybor’s powerful body, the pictures blurred and changed and the figures became monstrous, no longer rocking in pleasure but writhing in pain, amorous groans turned to tortured screams as a blue arc of electricity seared and sizzled. Smoke obscured her vision and the smell of charred flesh made her stomach heave. She snapped awake to find the compartment full, her eyes flashing from one stranger to another, registering their open-mouthed stares and uncomfortable shifting on their seats.
For the rest of the journey she sat bolt upright and tried to ignore the frowns and puzzled looks her fellow passengers gave her as they left the compartment.
She stepped down onto the platform in Venice and sighed. What had she expected to find here? How could anything make any difference to the chasm her future had become?
She went first to the building that held Hopewood’s offices and her apartment. The door was shut and the windows facing the street looked blank and bare. Surely at least one of those windows had shattered during the conflict, but every pane of glass was intact and the façade looked pristine. From her bag she dragged out the keys, carried throughout the long trip because it had simply never occurred to her to discard them. The familiar serrated shape slid smoothly into the lock and she twisted her wrist.
Nothing happened. The key remained firm and unmoving. She pulled it out and pushed it back to try again, with the same result. The tumblers had been changed. From inside the building she heard the electronic squeal of an alarm and with the sound, her brain began to do its job, telling her what she should have known all along. Only an idiot would return to the scene of the crime. She turned and ran.
Her conscious mind concerned itself only with putting one foot in front of the other, avoiding pedestrians and listening desperately for sounds of pursuit.
Her subconscious mind had another agenda. When she finally stopped, her lungs heaving, head slumped against an ancient wall, she realized that she stood outside the apartment Tybor and Huon had left—had it been only days ago? She squeezed her eyes shut, tried to remember the pattern of events. Tybor had gone upstairs, grabbed some clothes, and they’d rushed to the train station. Had he taken time to lock the door? She knew for certain he hadn’t filled out any departure forms.
She drew a deep draft of oxygen into her aching lungs. If Tybor hadn’t given up the apartment, if he hadn’t taken the time to lock the door, maybe, just maybe there was a chance she could hide there, regroup, decide what to do.
The outside door opened at her push. Thankful for the lack of security in these old buildings, she tiptoed up the stairs and sidled along the wall until she reached the door. One hand stretched out to the handle and she turned it gently.
Then she twisted it harder, shook it and thrust her shoulder against the wood. The truth faced her as solid and immovable as the door in front of her. A soldier like Tybor, trained to be cool under any provocation, used to emergency situations, didn’t get flustered in a simple fight-or-flight situation. Locking the door behind him would be an instinctive reaction.
In spite of the futility of the gesture, she beat her fists against the paneling until they ached, then, palms splayed against the wood in a gesture of defeat, she slid to the floor, sobbing out her pain, fear and loss.
She curled up into a fetal ball, unable to stop the tears, unable to stand, and at last consciousness slowly and blessedly slipped away.
This time the dream seemed clearer, the feel of hands lifting her and holding her so real she thought her heart would break with the knowledge that when she woke she would have to face their absence all over again. For now she willed herself to remain asleep, to rejoice in the strong arms holding her, one hand reaching out to open the door, carrying her to a soft bed, the weight of a firm body settling beside her.
“Sssh,” Huon’s beloved voice whispered in her ear. “Don’t cry, Judie. It will be all right.”
“How can it ever be all right?” she whimpered, reality intruding even here, in this soft dream.
“Because I will make it that way,” Huon said. “Wake up, Judie. Look at me.”
Although she fought against it, desperate to cling to the last remnants of illusion, her eyes opened. And widened. Then she blinked. The dream didn’t fade. Huon lay beside her, his blue eyes staring into hers. The hand she held out to touch his pale cheek shook, but still she felt the smooth warmth of his skin under her palm.
“You came back,” she breathed, new tears of joy and relief pouring down her cheeks. She lifted her gaze, looking over Huon’s shoulder. “Where
’s Tybor?”
“He isn’t here.” The sadness underlying Huon’s words penetrated Judie’s dazed senses.
“Has something happened to him? He’s not…” Her heart pounded and the air froze in her lungs, stealing away her voice.
“He’s alive,” Huon said, taking her hand from his cheek and holding it. He swallowed and dropped his gaze. “He won’t come here.” Huon’s face reddened. “He won’t come anywhere near me. Not ever again.”
“That can’t be true,” Judie cried. “He saved your life. He risked everything to come here to help you.”
“And I drove him away.”
“You love him.” Judie looked into Huon’s eyes, saw the pain there. “Why would you drive him away?”
“I didn’t mean to,” Huon said with a snort of self-disgust. “Just the opposite. I…” He broke off and stared resolutely at the wall across from Judie, blinking rapidly, his throat working.
“Tell me what happened,” Judie said.
“I… You know Tybor took me back home. We transported right into headquarters and instantly medics surrounded me and a troop of armed guards marched Tybor out.” Huon sighed. “You know he had come to the surface without permission?”
“Yes,” Judie offered tentatively. “You told me that.”
“I didn’t know if they were arresting him or debriefing him,” Huon explained. “I tried to get up, tried to follow, but I hadn’t regained my strength, then someone hit me with a needle and I passed out.”
“Tybor wouldn’t hold that against you,” she protested. “He’d know you couldn’t help it. He’ll want to see you again.”
“You haven’t heard it all yet,” Huon said. “When they’d restored my powers and made sure I was okay, I went to Tybor’s quarters to find him. When no one answered, I marched straight into the captain’s office, demanding to know what they’d done with him. I told them that the only reason the mission had succeeded and we’d been able to destroy the Gatekeepers’ headquarters was because Tybor had come to help me and that if they punished him for that, for going AWOL, they were insane.”