Flight of Life (Essence Series #1)
Page 8
Calloway took the first step forward and inserted his picking knife into the lock. After a few twists, the door opened and they walked inside. Calloway locked the door behind them. They stood at the base of the grand staircase and looked into the darkness, afraid of the unknown. Calloway squeezed his glowing orb and the light lit the pathway to the top. It was so silent they heard their own pulse in their ears. Slowly, they walked up the stairway as they gazed at the vast library. It was empty.
Easton switched on the light and the room was illuminated by the chandelier in the center. Calloway appraised the area and noticed the dusty bookshelves along the wall and the curved tables in the center of the room. He wasn’t able to study the architecture the first time he was in the building. He was being chased by the Hara-Kir.
“It’s beautiful,” Easton said as she stared at the old chandelier hanging from the ceiling. She ran her hands across the shelf and looked at the dust under her finger.
“You always think weird things are beautiful,” Breccan said as he stared down the aisles of bookcases. “It’s just a library—big deal.”
“This library is extremely old,” she said. “I doubt a single computer has set foot in this building. You can tell it was built in the 1920’s just by looking at the architecture. I can’t believe it hasn’t been preserved as a museum.”
“Or demolished as rubble,” Breccan added.
Calloway set their backpacks on the surface of the table in the center of the room. There were red lamps at the end of every counter and he lit one nearby. “Well, this is it,” he said as he sat down. “The place where I was almost taken.”
Easton stared around the room for a moment. “And where did you find the book?”
“In a room hidden in the back,” he said.
“Did the letter tell you it was there?” Easton asked as she looked at him.
“No,” he said. “My father just said it was here—I found the room on my own. After I walked down the aisles I realized it couldn’t be on a bookshelf—it’s too important.”
She nodded. “Can I see it?”
Calloway nodded to her. “Sure,” he said. “But there’s nothing else in there. I already looked.” He walked to the outer ring of the tables and walked down an aisle that led toward the back. Easton followed right behind him, and when Breccan realized they were gone, he ran to their side.
Easton glanced at him over her shoulder. “I thought you weren’t scared,” she teased.
“I just didn’t want to leave you two on your own,” he said quickly. He was so close to Easton, she could hear him breathe.
“Whatever.” She smiled.
Calloway advanced to the doorway, and when he grabbed the handle it wouldn’t turn. It was locked. He felt his heart race. “I left it unlocked,” he said quietly. He pulled out his picking knife and unfastened the door.
“Maybe it locks on its own,” Easton said.
“I hope so,” he said as he opened the door. He stepped inside first then Easton and Breccan followed behind. Breccan kept looking over his shoulder, paranoid that something was going to attack him, and moved further into the room. The desk against the wall was tipped over and the drawers were ripped out of the desk. Papers were dispersed around the room in random piles and the chair was shattered into pieces. Calloway felt his skin prickle with fear. “Someone was in here,” he said. “They were searching for something.”
“Probably the book,” Breccan said quietly. “And I don’t think they’re going to be happy when they find out you took it.”
Calloway sighed. “It’s a good thing you aren’t scared,” he said. “I have a feeling we’ll be meeting a Hara-Kir—perhaps many of them.”
“That’s wonderful news,” Breccan said sarcastically.
Easton stepped further into the room and looked at the toppled desk. “Or maybe they were searching for something else,” she suggested.
“Like what?” Calloway asked.
“Well, there are two Kirin Books. Perhaps they thought the second was hidden here as well. Why else would they wait to search for it until after you left?”
“I don’t know.” Breccan shrugged. “You’re the Hara-Kir hunter.”
She rolled her eyes. “We are not Hara-Kir hunters.”
“It seems like it,” Breccan mumbled.
Calloway searched through the rubble but couldn’t find anything of significance. The sheets of paper on the ground were notes from the card catalog, and the open drawers were full of paper clips and rubber bands. Calloway left the room and the other two followed behind him. Breccan closed the door but Calloway didn’t lock it. He would check it the following day and see if someone locked it again.
“I’m going to search through the shelves and see if there is a decoder in here or something related,” Easton said.
Calloway nodded then walked down the aisle to the table in the center of the room. Breccan followed him and they sat down at the desk. Calloway pulled the Kirin Book from Easton’s bag and flipped the pages, not understanding a single word. “Why can’t this be in English?” He sighed.
“Then that would be too easy,” Breccan said. He turned his head toward the bookcases. “Any luck in there?” he shouted.
Easton’s loud voice carried to their table. “No,” she said. “And I doubt I’m going to find anything. This place is so unorganized—it makes our library look amazing.”
“Say that to the librarian tomorrow.” Breccan laughed. “Maybe then she’ll stop hating us so much.”
“Stop talking about her like that,” Calloway said.
Breccan looked at his cousin. “Are you defending the librarian?” he asked incredulously. “The woman who hates us?”
“She doesn’t hate us,” Calloway said. “There’s something happening below that mean exterior—cut her some slack.”
“You need to stop doing that,” Breccan said.
“What?” Calloway asked without looking up from the book.
“Trying to see the good in people when there is none,” he said. Just accept it—not everyone is a good person.”
“I agree,” Calloway said. “But I know everyone has the ability to be.”
Breccan rolled his eyes. “Well, I don’t think that’s possible for the librarian or Hawk.”
Calloway shrugged his shoulders. “They probably had a hard life and their pain makes them this way.”
Breccan sighed in frustration. “You’ve had a horrible life, Calloway. And you are nothing like that,” he said. “That’s no excuse—pity only takes you so far. Everyone teases you and makes your life miserable—they don’t deserve your compassion. You’re going to learn this the hard way.”
Calloway didn’t respond to his comment and continued to flip through the pages. He refused to believe that people were innately evil—they just did evil things. Breccan stared at his cousin for a moment before he looked away, annoyed that Calloway was being so foolish.
A harsh breathing noise sounded in the air and made Calloway flinch. It was a quiet noise but Calloway was familiar with the tone. Breccan didn’t react because he didn’t hear the inaudible sound. Calloway felt his heart race in his chest when he heard the harsh breathing from across the room. Slowly, he rose from the table and looked toward the bookcases in the outer circle of the library.
Breccan noticed the frightened expression on his cousin’s face and rose from his seat as well. He was about to speak when Calloway silenced him with his hand. The breathing noise grew louder and Breccan’s eyes widened in fear. Calloway nodded at him, confirming his suspicion.
Calloway nodded to the bookcase. “We have to get Easton,” he whispered. They both took a silent step from the table when they heard Easton scream.
“AHHHHH!”
Calloway and Breccan sprinted into the aisles of bookshelves and searched for their friend before it was too late. They followed the sound of her cries until they found her pushed against the bookshelf by the Hara-Kir. His entire body was cloaked and hooded and
his hands were covered in black gloves. Not a single inch of his flesh could be seen. He squeezed her windpipe and stifled her shouts.
Breccan sprinted to her before Calloway could react and pulled the knife from his pocket, determined to save Easton. He stabbed the blade directly into the back of the Hara-Kir, and the creature screamed loudly and loosened its hold on Easton, giving her an opportunity to crawl away. She grabbed her throat and coughed into the ground. Calloway ran to her and kneeled before her, making sure she wasn’t mortally injured, and then looked back at Breccan and the Hara-Kir. The creature blocked the stab Breccan aimed at his chest then stole the knife from his hands. He turned the blade toward Breccan, ready to sink the weapon into his body, and Breccan tried to move away but the creature had him corned. Calloway abandoned Easton and ran to the Hara-Kir as he pulled the knife from his pocket. He aimed the knife for the creature’s heart but the Hara-Kir moved out of the way before he could land his blade. The creature dodged him and pursued Breccan once more. Calloway moved behind the creature and stabbed him in the back but he missed his target by an inch. The Hara-Kir pulled the blade out and threw it across the room. It was covered in blood.
The Hara-Kir chased Breccan across the room and slashed his blade across his forearm, drawing blood, and Calloway felt his heart accelerate. The Hara-Kir wasn’t going to stop until Breccan was killed. Calloway saw them disappear down an aisle so he ran to the opposite side and pushed the bookcase over, hoping to smash the Hara-Kir while Breccan escaped. The falling bookcase distracted the Hara-Kir for a moment and allowed Breccan to flee, but then the creature was on his trail again. Breccan sprinted across the library, running for his life, and Calloway dashed to his fallen knife on the ground. When he reached the knife, he slid it across the floor to where Breccan was headed, and his cousin grabbed it from the floor as he ran. He turned around and stabbed the Hara-Kir directly in the heart and stepped back, avoiding the slice to his throat made by the Hara-Kir. The creature stopped for a moment but then he continued to pursue Breccan. Calloway was astonished. The stab didn’t kill the Hara-Kir.
Calloway ran to his cousin and stood beside him as the Hara-Kir pursued him. He waited until the Hara-Kir lunged at them with the knife before Calloway pushed him as hard as he could. The Hara-Kir fell to the earth and dropped the knife it was holding, giving Breccan just enough time to grab the blade and pierce it directly through the heart, right alongside the other knife. They both stepped back as the Hara-Kir lied on the floor. Suddenly, it got up again and stared at them, hissing loudly as it clenched its fists in anger.
“Why won’t this thing die?” Breccan yelled. “I don’t get it.”
Calloway grabbed his cousin by the arm. “Run,” he said. “Come on.”
They heard the Hara-Kir chase them across the library and past the tables in the center of the room. They reached the opposite wall then turned right, but the Hara-Kir was faster and blocked their way, forcing them again the wall. He stepped toward them and pulled a knife from his chest, which was dripping with his blood, and he aimed the blade at Breccan. Just as the Hara-Kir was about to strike him, Calloway jumped in the way, taking the stab directly into the chest. He closed his eyes and waited for the pain to ignite his body in a deadly fire but it never came. Calloway opened his eyes and saw the blade sticking out of the chest of Hara-Kir, the point impaled directly through the body. When the Hara-Kir fell to the floor, they could see Easton standing behind him with a fierce look in her eyes. She wiped the sweat from her forehead.
“Well, I thought it was going to be easier than that,” she said.
Breccan just stared at his cousin, amazed that Calloway protected his body with his own. He didn’t speak for a long time. “Are you okay?” Breccan finally asked.
Calloway nodded. He leaned against the wall and caught his breath. His kept his eyes closed as he calmed himself. The ordeal was still fresh in his mind. He had accepted his impending death and now he was going to live.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Breccan said quietly. “You would have died.”
Calloway was quiet for a moment. “You would have done the same for me.”
Breccan stood up then helped his cousin to his feet. They both said nothing for a moment as they stared at the dead Hara-Kir lying on the ground. Breccan nudged its arm with his foot and Easton didn’t go near it.
“I can’t believe we both missed,” Breccan said as he looked at the two knives imbedded in its chest. He pulled them out and wiped the blood on the jacket that covered its body. “How is that possible?”
Calloway grabbed his knife from his cousin’s hand and inserted it into his pocket. He was certain that his aim was true. He stabbed the creature through the heart. But the Hara-Kir continued to pursue them like it was unaffected by the fatal wounds. Calloway pondered the situation in his mind. “It has to be stabbed three times,” he said to his friends. “That’s what the book meant by sections. We need to bisect the heart three different times for it to stop beating.”
Easton looked at Calloway. “That makes sense.”
Breccan sighed. “Why do they have to make this so difficult?”
“Otherwise it would be too easy,” Calloway said as he patted his cousin on the shoulder. “At least we know what to do next time.”
“Next time?” Breccan asked incredulously. “Didn’t we just learn our lesson? Easton could have died and you were almost stabbed in the chest!”
“But now we’ll be prepared,” Easton said. “There are three of us and it needs to be stabbed three times—it’s meant to be.”
Breccan rolled his eyes. “I was meant to go to high school like a normal kid—not fight the forces of evil.”
Calloway looked at his cousin. “I don’t think that’s going to happen,” he said. “We are destined for a different fate.”
Breccan sighed. “Damn.”
Gifted
Calloway and Breccan spotted the large sign plastered on the library when they walked onto campus the next morning.
WINTER WONDERLAND—WINTER FORMAL.
Breccan stopped and stared at the announcement with a saddened expression. Girls were gathered underneath the sign, chattering about the details of the dance—what they should wear and who they should go with—and the boys tried to ignore their voices. Calloway and Breccan looked at each other—neither one of them wanted to attend.
Breccan sighed. “My mom will make us go,” he said sadly. “We may as well find dates—we won’t be total losers, then.”
“Why does your mom care about this?” Calloway asked. “It’s just more time we have to spend at school—I’m here enough as it is.”
“I told you my mom was annoying,” Breccan said.
“That’s not what I said,” Calloway said. “I just wish she wouldn’t pressure us.”
Breccan sighed. “Well, it’s inevitable.” They walked toward the classroom building and ignored the girls that were talking excitedly about the dance. “I got dibs on Easton,” he said.
“Why do you get Easton?” Calloway asked. “Have you even asked her?”
“She’ll say yes,” Breccan said. “And I would rather go with her than a girl.”
“I am a girl,” Easton said as she approached them. Calloway and Breccan both flinched at the sound of her voice. They hadn’t noticed her. “And what makes you think I would even agree? You haven’t asked me—you just assumed I would go with you.”
“Fine.” Breccan sighed. “Easton, would you attend the winter formal with me?” he asked nicely.
She shook her head. “I wasn’t planning on going,” she said. “And I’m surprised you two are.”
“Brec’s mom is making us,” Calloway explained.
“That’s unfortunate,” she said seriously. “Who are you going with, Calloway?”
Calloway shrugged. “Nobody.”
“There isn’t anyone you want to ask?” Easton asked. “It’s lame to go alone—you’re already teased as it is.”
Callo
way immediately thought of Beatrice and he wasn’t sure why—her feelings toward him were clear. Even if he had the courage to ask her she probably wouldn’t respond. She would just walk away and ignore him. “I don’t have any friends that are girls—besides you.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Easton said. “If not, the three of us could go together.”
Breccan laughed. “Like we aren’t teased enough as it is,” he said.
The bell rang and announced the beginning of the school day. They walked to their classes and ignored the signs on the wall that announced the winter formal. Calloway walked into his English class and nodded to Mr. Avey, who returned his acknowledgment with a slight smile, and then sat in his assigned desk. They were still studying Henry V and the students were reading aloud the different lines of the play.
“Calloway,” Mr. Avey said. “Please read the next line.”
Luckily, Calloway was paying attention today, even though the traumatic experience from the evening before still plagued his mind. He didn’t sleep last night, only finding repose for minutes at a time. He straightened his back in his seat and read the next line. His voice did not falter as he read the wordy prose, and Mr. Avey listened to him speak, impressed by his reading abilities. “And tell the pleasant prince the mock of his hath turned his balls to gunstones, and his soul shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance that shall fly from them—for many a thousand widows shall this his mock, mock out of their dear husbands, mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down—”
“Stop there, Calloway,” Mr. Avey announced. “Good job. What is King Henry saying in this scene?” he asked the class. His question wasn’t directed at Calloway, but Calloway knew he was waiting for him to speak.
Calloway leaned back in his chair. “Henry is stating his planned vengeance against the Dauphin for his mocking jest toward him and his reckless youth. The king is promising a vengeance that will not be stopped. His enemies can only submit.”
Mr. Avey nodded. “You are correct—as always.”