Gena glared at her, but said nothing.
“Do you think Mark would want you to come for him now, knowing that doing so would mean you’d die as well?”
Gena had no answer for that.
“I’m going to let you go, Gena. If you leave, you leave, but understand that what’s started can’t be stopped. I encourage you, as your friend, to come sit with the rest of us. Stay here, where it’s safe. Don’t throw your life away out of some strange sense of nobility.”
The cocoon of Energy released her, and true to her word, Ashley turned around and walked back toward the media room.
After a moment, Gena followed her, hugging her arms to herself as if trying to reproduce a cocoon on her own, one that would protect her from the horrors yet to come.
When she entered the room once more, her eyes instantly went to Mark’s screen. He was talking on the phone, his face tense with concentration, and his gaze continually flicked in the direction of the red-eyed killer near him.
On the other screen, Hope’s face registered first embarrassment. Then confusion. Then horror. And as her call with Mark ended, her face registered determination.
“Look away,” Eva told Gena.
She didn’t. She watched as the man she loved charged the supernatural killer, watched as he did what he thought he could to protect Hope, to protect Gena, to protect unnamed others from the madman in the room with him. She watched as flame burst from the evil man and consumed the flesh of the man she loved, watched as the killer’s sword flashed again, watched as Mark fell to the ground in horrific agony.
She watched as the last light of life left his eyes, as those eyes stared at her through the screen without seeing, his cold face still etched in the agony of the throes of his death.
She didn’t cry; the tears were long since gone. She didn’t scream; it would no longer do Mark, or anyone else, any good to waste her breath on screams. Her face was a steely mask of controlled anger and determination. There was a fiery light in her eyes, the light of a woman who knew her new purpose in life, the reason she would live on even with Mark gone for good.
When she spoke, her voice held a hint of ice and fire, and the hairs on the arms of those in the room stood in response to her tone. And her promise.
“If it’s the last thing I ever do… I’m going to kill that man.”
●●●
Adam’s hiding spot enabled him to hear Hope’s phone conversations, first with Will, then with Mark, and he was encouraged. Her words and emotional impulses betrayed no hint that she knew any of this was coming, or that she knew she had the power to stop it at any time she wished. Her thoughts wouldn’t betray her to the Assassin, reveal her true identity, and in so doing alter the course of history.
His memory blocks were working perfectly.
He heard her coming up the steps, and made certain his Energy Shield was up. She might not remember her skills, but she’d feel something if someone as powerful as Adam was sitting unshielded in a nearby room. She’d just realized that the powerful dream she’d experienced—a dream that was, in fact, a shared clairvoyant experience of a powerful Energy user—was real. She was now determined to protect her only child from the killer or killers on the way to her house. He watched on his screen as she entered Josh’s room and spoke to him. He turned up the volume and listened in through his earpiece as she explained that a bad man was coming to their house, and that it was very important that he remain in his room until either Mommy or Daddy came for him.
Josh nodded, but looked confused. Why would his mother be worried about something like that? Why did she think he needed to hide, when she could easily vanquish anyone who walked—or teleported—into their house?
Josh was starting to understand that something else was now wrong with his mother.
Adam winced. He’d not considered how the memory blocks and the resulting behavioral changes in Hope would impact Josh. Apologies would need to come later, but his brow creased with concern.
What else had he missed?
●●●
“Hope’s acting very strangely,” Archie noted, frowning at the screen. They watched as their friend, a confident and powerful woman they’d known for centuries, worked in a frenzied manner to bury her son in a pile of stuffed animals. She shooed the dog inside the large walk-in closet with the boy, gave him a clear word of warning, and then shut the door. She paused a moment, and then barricaded the door shut with a heavy chair.
“I get hiding Josh in the closet, because they don’t want the Assassin finding out Will has a son, but she doesn’t need to act scared yet,” Judith added.
“She’s acting almost… human.” Aaron spoke slowly, as if not trusting his assessment. But when he looked around, he saw looks of agreement among the Alliance members present.
“Human?” Dana asked. “Of course she’s human. Why would that be a surprise?”
“Human is the term we use to describe anyone not yet trained in our special skills,” Eva explained. “In those terms, Hope is as non-human as one could be. But she is acting as if she is very human.”
“What’s strange about how she’s acting?” Dana was puzzled. “I’d be hiding my son if I was her as well.”
“Hope has more than enough power to protect herself and Josh,” Eva explained. “She knows this. She has no reason to be afraid. I understand that she must act in a convincing manner for the Assassin, to prove that she is no threat. But…” Eva paused, thinking, and then a look of realization crossed her face. “Adam.” She shook her head.
“What?” Peter asked. “What’s Adam got to do with Hope acting strangely?”
“She is not acting, Peter,” Eva replied. “Adam has blocked her memories of who and what she is. It is something we ought to have thought of before and planned out, and it is a good thing he has thought to do so even so late in the timeline. She can betray nothing, even by accident, if she does not know there is something she must hide.” She nodded. “That is why he went to her. If she does not realize her power, she cannot betray her identity, but she will also be unable to save herself, or Josh. Adam must be there to restore her memory—and, therefore, her power—at the last moment… or save them himself.”
“Bloody brilliant,” Aaron breathed, nodding. “I wonder when he figured that out and decided to act?”
“I do not know,” Eva admitted. “But I am glad that he did. I had just started to wonder how Hope would be able to conceal her thoughts of what she must do from the Assassin, given the intensity of the events to come. Now we know.”
She turned to glance back at the screen. “I hope Adam doesn’t come to regret his decision.”
●●●
He could hear Hope moving once more, and her undisciplined mental control led her to project out her intent to check for intruders in Will’s office. Adam ended the holographic projection of his phone screen, grabbed the device, and slid off the chair to hide beneath Will’s desk. He’d barely stopped moving when the door opened and Hope entered the room.
Adam glanced at his screen and flicked the image over to the video feed in the room, using the phone to watch as Hope scanned the space. Her eyes seemed to settle on Will’s chair, which had spun ever so slightly after Adam slid off the seat and under the desk. He watched her on the screen, his muscles tensing, trying to figure out what he’d do, what lie he’d tell, if she moved further into the room and discovered him hiding there. He couldn’t risk a teleportation hop now.
After what seemed an eternity, Hope shook her head, muttering to herself. “I’m really losing it now, totally imagining things that aren’t there.” She left the room, closing the door behind her.
Adam waited a moment, just as he had years earlier when he’d nearly been discovered in the offices of the orphanage where Gena had lived. But Hope had lost interest, and didn’t double back to see if she could catch him crawling out from his hiding space, convinced that her idea that someone was already in the house was without merit.
He flipped through the camera feeds and tracked her movements. Hope headed back to Josh’s room for the gun, and then returned to her bedroom and the wall safe for an extra clip of ammunition. She frowned as she had to dig around among the special papers inside, wondering if they actually had a spare clip. She finally snapped her fingers, and her thoughts once again betrayed her, proclaiming her realization that she’d left the spare clip downstairs on the kitchen counter. She sighed and shut the safe.
Hope marched downstairs, gun in hand, and waited for the arrival of the men who were coming to kill her.
●●●
“There’s Will!” Ashley announced.
With the action inside the house ended for the time being, they’d switched their collective attention back to the entry to the community. Graham, in his disguise as Frank the driver, had pulled up with Myra VanderPoole, and the elderly woman had fainted after viewing the carnage inside the guard station. A police officer named Michael Baker had arrived in response to Graham’s call for an ambulance. While they waited for the paramedics, Baker began a cursory examination of the site, making observations and listening as Frank recounted what had happened. Will stepped out of his car and walked toward both men.
Gena finally took her eyes off Mark’s body to turn her focus to the action. She frowned. “Why is a billionaire driving himself around? Doesn’t he have a limo?”
“Will does not especially care for the trappings of wealth,” Eva replied. “Today is his birthday, and it was his fondest wish to live his life in a more normal fashion.”
“Today is Will’s birthday?” Gena asked. Her voice had lost the icy edge it had earlier, and now registered nothing more than a sad fatigue. “It’s mine as well.”
“Happy birthday,” Eva said. The others offered Gena similar good wishes. Gena didn’t smile.
On the screen, Will had pointed to the roof of the guard station, a look of concern and horror on his face. Michael Baker paced toward the window and gazed upon the interior before moving away and vomiting onto the side of the building.
“I know the feeling,” Dana said, her voice full of sympathy.
They watched as Will Stark first tried to scale the ten foot high concrete gate, and then as he used a downspout to pull himself to the roof of the guard station.
Moments later, he dropped to the ground inside the neighborhood, landing awkwardly and twisting his ankle in the process. After discovering that the intruders had set fire to the motorized carts normally waiting for his use, he ran as fast as he could toward his home, in a futile effort to save his wife and son from a supernatural Assassin.
Gena felt an odd sense of deja vu as she watched.
●●●
Adam watched on his screen as the Assassin unlocked the back door. He rolled his eyes at his earlier protective, if futile, gesture. If the Assassin had been thinking, he would wonder why his victim, who lived inside an immensely secure community with few neighbors, would feel the need to lock her doors at all. She’d only do that if she knew someone was coming after her.
The Assassin, though, had only one thing on his mind. Blood. Hope Stark’s blood.
His Energy skills were minimal, especially for one so old. They were more than sufficient to rapidly disarm a “human” woman like Hope Stark, though, and Hope’s weapon was soon devoid of useful ammunition. The Assassin pulled out an aerosol can that contained his latest fire accelerant and used it to cover the interior walls of the house. The fire would serve its purpose: shocking Will Stark, crushing his spirit, and ruining his concentration. In such a state, the Hunters would be able to subdue him and load him into a secured transport with relative ease. It was a brilliant plan, but Will wouldn’t be captured when he arrived here in the next few minutes. Nor would he be killed.
Adam would arrive from the future with Will’s grown children, likely in the next few minutes. Together, they’d protect Will in ways the Hunters couldn’t understand, couldn’t trace, and couldn’t defeat. By the time the Hunters would realize what was happening, they’d be gone, taking Will with them as they returned to their point of origin nearly two centuries into the future. There, they’d teach neophyte Will the basics of Energy and send him to the past in a time machine the Alliance had yet to invent.
He watched as Hope hurled a knife at the Assassin, planting the blade in the killer’s shoulder. Even from this distance, he could sense her terror, but also her shock. She didn’t know what had possessed her to hide the knife, nor did she understand how she’d managed to hurl it with such accuracy. Adam knew, though. Hope had trained in armed combat for centuries, and those skills weren’t something he could hide by blocking memories of her past. Her body worked on instincts honed by her decades of training.
Adam heard a rumbling next door. Josh had sensed his mother’s fear, and used an Energy he didn’t quite understand to blast open the door of the closet where he’d been hidden. Josh ordered Smokey to stay, grabbed the baseball he’d used during their earlier playtime, and crept silently down the stairs.
So intense was Josh’s concentration on keeping quiet that he didn’t notice his faithful companion padding along just a few steps behind him.
●●●
Everyone’s attention was riveted to the screen showing the Assassin and Hope. They watched as the killer’s mangled face contorted in rage and agony while he pulled the large knife from his shoulder, and then he advanced on Hope, one menacing step at a time. He shouted something at her.
“What was that?” Dash asked. He’d been allowed in the room once they’d turned off the screen showing the bodies of Mark and Deron.
On the screen, the Assassin jerked backward and fell to his knees on the floor. He dropped the knife and held that hand to his face, where a welt had appeared. They all noticed the baseball rolling on the ground nearby. Josh entered the screen and shouted at the killer.
“Strike three,” Peter muttered. “Hope that batter’s out… cold.”
But the Assassin was only temporarily disoriented. He stood, ready to silence the new threat… and then stopped, his jaw agape at the sight of the boy in front of him.
“What’s… why did he stop?” Gena asked. “Is he… actually afraid of Josh?”
“He should be,” Eva muttered.
“The Aliomenti swear an oath not to reproduce, and undergo various processes that ensure it,” Aaron explained. “It’s one of their more… arcane policies. We give people access to those same techniques, but they’re optional. The Aliomenti require it. Their rules are simple: if a member dares to have a child, everyone involved is executed.”
“I can’t believe that,” Dana said, glancing protectively at Dash.
“It’s true, though,” Ashley replied.
“And nobody’s ever reversed the process,” Aaron added. “It’s supposed to be impossible, oath or no oath.”
“That is why the Assassin is stunned at the sight of Josh,” Eva said. “The Will that they know went through those processes. Which means…”
“Which means that not only did he do something impossible in having a son… he’s now subject to death by their rules,” Gena said. “Lovely group of people.”
“That is why we left them,” Eva said.
“Or, in our case, never joined,” Judith added.
The Assassin had finally regained his composure and started moving at them again.
This time, Smokey emerged from the shadows, charged the killer, and sank her fangs into the killer’s leg. The room erupted in cheers… until the Assassin’s blade flashed.
Blood flowed from Smokey’s side.
“No!” Dash wailed. “Not the dog!”
“She’ll be fine,” Aaron told him.
“This is it, then,” Eva said. “Hope must teleport them out of danger.”
“But she clearly doesn’t know how,” Gena reminded her. “Adam made her forget, right? She’s not remembering!”
Eva’s eyes widened. “Then we must rely on Adam to save them.”
/> Peter glanced at the screen. “Adam… or Will.”
Gena pointed at a screen showing a scene outside the Starks’ front window. “He’s almost there!” Will was limping around the final bend of the long driveway, clearly winded and in severe pain.
“That man isn’t capable of saving them,” Ashley told her. “He doesn’t know how.”
“Then why do you keep talking about Will saving them?” Gena shouted.
On the screen, Hope pushed Josh behind her, and stared defiantly at the red-eyed killer advancing on her. Her face told the story, though, and if they’d doubted her humanness before, there was no doubt about it now.
Hope knew they were about to die.
XXIII
Eyewitness
With death approaching in the form of red-eyed madman, Hope’s maternal instincts took over. She must protect Josh, regardless of what happened to her. The attempts to hide him had failed. She could only hope to slow the man’s progress long enough for Will and the police to arrive, to give them a chance to apprehend or kill this man before Josh’s life was snuffed out.
She pushed the boy behind her as the scar-faced killer advanced, feeling his heavy boots as they thumped on the floor. He was enjoying this, savoring each step as he moved toward his prey.
Why wasn’t she afraid? Was it adrenaline? Was her mind simply accepting the fact that death was imminent, and therefore the emotion of fear was one she no longer needed to experience?
The only thing she felt was a strange tickling sensation. Was that how the body felt when it accepted death? Was she in the process of dying of a fear so deep she wasn’t consciously aware of its presence?
Preserving Will Page 32