Attack

by Rachel Starr Thomson

  “We should go, Reese.”

  She turned back to look at Tyler. His expression was haggard. Sweat was trickling down his face, but not just from the sun. He looked concerned, and afraid, and sick.

  “You can’t tell me what happened here wasn’t evil,” he said.

  Then he turned on Jacob. “It didn’t end here, you know. Your hero, this Clint guy, he didn’t just kill the policemen. Maybe that was justified—maybe you’re right, and he knew things I didn’t. But you can’t tell me he was good or right in the way he did it, because I heard—I heard him . . .” He stopped and shuddered, and didn’t finish the thought. Didn’t put words to the memory. “But he didn’t stop here. He took me and Chris to a house where he tried to kill us both. What did we do, Jacob? What evils are lurking in our past?” The words should have been fired at the man, a volley of passionate defence. But they weren’t. Tyler sounded tired, and like he was really asking.

  Like he thought it was possible they deserved to die somehow.

  Jacob just looked at him and said, “But you’re not dead.”

  “Because Reese and the others intervened. And the strength of the Oneness came through for me.”

  The big man shrugged, a tiny smile playing behind his beard. “Maybe. Or maybe everything happened exactly how it was supposed to all along. Maybe you needed to come back to me, like you are now, open and ready to listen. At the farm, you were closed. Your friend was addling your brain. You had too many suspicions, too many—”

  Tyler interrupted, and this time the heat was there. “Don’t you blame anything on Chris.”

  “He isn’t Oneness,” Jacob said. And his eyes strayed to Reese, and she thought he was looking through her. “You’re both taking direction and partnership from someone who refuses to become One. What does that say about you? Or about him?”

  Reese flushed and turned back to the car. “Let’s go.”

  “You’ve seen all you want me to see here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not very impressive, I’m afraid.”

  She didn’t know how the man could be so infuriating and so convincing at the same time. How he could inspire her to think new thoughts, and question her whole existence, and at the same time make her want to punch him in the face.

  Of course, it didn’t help that he had brought up Chris.

  She didn’t want to think about Chris right now.

  They got back into the car, and she jacked up the air conditioning and was frustrated that it barely responded. The air blew warm. She put the car in gear and backed out onto the highway, glad again that there was no traffic for the moment. She wasn’t sure she would have processed the presence of other cars properly—her mind was spinning.

  At least she understood better how a whole community of people could have followed Jacob so blindly.

  Julie’s conversion came back to her and strengthened her, like a hug or a warm message. She had lived with this man and come to believe that he was wrong. She had been hurt by him. Her daughter had been hurt by him. He was dangerous.

  “My turn,” he said.

  It took her a minute to process. “What?”

  “It’s my turn. You said we would trade. You lead and I follow. I followed you here. I considered what you said.”

  Tyler made another sound from the backseat, but Reese ignored it.

  Despite Jacob’s insistence on the highway of his own rightness, she believed him. He had, to some degree, considered their side.

  And she was keeping her end of the bargain and considering his.

  Calmly, naturally, he told her where to go. Where to switch highways, when to change lanes. Traffic grew heavier as they neared the city. In spite of herself, she was grateful for his guidance. She knew she should resent his taking her in hand, but she didn’t. She was glad for it. Glad he was leading, because it gave her time to think.

  To remind herself of what she knew was true.

  Behind her, Tyler brooded.

  They were silent, the only sound that of the a/c toiling and the engine growling as they drove. She knew Jacob wanted her to ask. About twenty years ago. About the dead policeman’s role in what had happened. About Jacob’s role in what happened.

  Twenty years ago.

  A dark, mostly undefined shadow that had lain at the back of Reese’s whole life as Oneness. She had been only a child, and not One yet. By the time she came to Lincoln and became part of the cell there, twenty years ago was already a blot on the past that most people did not talk about. Especially David.

  The cell would sometimes refer to it, whispering things, especially when David seemed morose or angry, which he did—maybe more often than most. Looking back, it was impossible to tell whether the signs of his disillusionment and enmity had been there all along, mistaken for normal discouragement and irritation.

  After the last few months, Reese was disinclined to trust any impression as true, past or present.

  But she had known, always, that something had happened twenty years ago. An attack, they said. A massacre, when they were more specific. There had been bombings, and killings after that, and Oneness on the road as fugitives. And the police had been involved somehow—not on their side, like they were now.

  Assuming of course, that Lieutenant Jackson and the rest of the department that was letting him get away with working with the Oneness really were on their side.

  And when Reese moved to the village cell, after her exile, after Chris and Tyler and Richard and Mary were the only people in the world who believed in her, she had learned that twenty years ago meant something to them too. Chris’s father had been murdered twenty years ago. Mary had gone through whatever exactly it was that had happened.

  She knew Jacob wanted her to ask.

  She knew she needed to know. To learn more, because the past wasn’t just in the past; it was influencing—even dictating—the present.

  But she didn’t open her mouth.

  She didn’t give him the gratification of knowing how much he had pulled her in.

  And anyway.

  She wasn’t sure she was ready to face the past just yet.

  Chapter 7

  On Tempter’s Mountain, Tony kept a close eye on the boy, Jordan. He had not shared Angelica’s dismayed protest over the idea that these kids could come back under the sway of the demons—could actually welcome them back. Not at all. Maybe because he wasn’t a girl. Maybe because he was more driven, more punch-happy than Angelica had ever been. But he remembered how he had felt as a young boy when the Spirit first started to draw him, when he became One and then he learned he had the gift of swordsmanship and he became a hunter and a fighter, tracking down the demons and sending them howling into the night—or losing, sometimes. He remembered how it had shaped him. How it had made him. And he knew the demons had done the same for Jordan.

  He knew Jordan was lost now without them.

  He chewed a wad of gum and sat on the arm of the couch in the hermit’s tiny living room, watching Jordan watch TV. They had dug the set out of a closet. It was ancient, its picture lined and crackling with static, its sound warped. Jordan had tuned out the old sitcom reruns in front of him twenty minutes ago.

  He was just staring, blank-faced.

  Thinking, Tony figured.

  Richard had told him to keep the kids inside, especially Jordan. Stick him in front of the TV, dig out a Nintendo set if at all possible, occupy his brain and keep him from getting out from under the shield, or even out toward the periphery where the shield would be weaker.

  But Tony didn’t think just letting the kid zone out like this was a good idea.

  He remembered that too—restlessness. Boredom. The kind of trouble it got him into as a kid.

  Heck, he still got in trouble when he got bored.

  He stood up and switched off the TV, waiting for Jordan to yell in protest.

  He didn’t.

  Yup, this was bad.

  “Come on,” Tony said, “let’s go hiking.”r />
  “You’re not supposed to take me away from here,” Jordan said.

  He didn’t know the kid had actually heard that.

  “What are you talking about? It’s just a hike. Come on.”

  “You’re not supposed to let me out of the house.” Jordan’s eyes gleamed. “I’m too dangerous.”

  “No,” Tony corrected him, “you’re not. It’s the demons that are dangerous. I’m not supposed to get you away from the shield. But we can hike and stay under the shield. Come on, let’s go.”

  Jordan folded his arms and sat back deeper in the springy, threadbare love seat that was the only place to sit in the room. “It’s too hot.”

  “It’s not so bad up here. It’s cooler in the mountains, and there’s a breeze off the water.”

  He slumped even farther. “I don’t want to.”

  “Don’t you like to go outside?”

  “No, I hate it. I want to sit here and watch TV.”

  “You weren’t watching TV,” Tony pointed out in exasperation. “You were sitting there zoned out.”

  Jordan looked right at him. “Does that scare you?”

  Tony knelt right in front of him and said, “Stop it. Right now.”

  “Stop what?”

  “What you’re doing. Playing with the idea of going back. Pretending you’re still possessed and I’m supposed to be scared of you.”

  “You are scared of me,” Jordan said, very quietly.

  “Kid, this is not a game.”

  “I know that.”

  Tony looked into the boy’s eyes and tried to search them. He had never been a deep one—never been the type of Oneness that drew people and connected deeply with them, that saw destiny in others and tried to call it forth. That was the kind of thing Richard and people like him did. Not kids, sword-swinging teenagers, like Tony.

  But he needed to get through to this boy.

  Because he knew, as he looked into Jordan’s eyes, that either one day this child would fight alongside him, closer than a brother, or else they would battle one another to the death.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” Tony insisted.

  Jordan huffed and threw himself off the couch, scowling. “Fine.”

  Despite Tony’s assurances that it would be cooler here than in the city, the air hit them like a furnace when they opened the front door. The hermit’s cottage was sheltered by a few old pines, and an ancient window air conditioner helped keep the interior temperature down, but outside was a yellow glare of dust and sun. Jordan’s scowl deepened.

  “Come on,” Tony urged. “We’ll get up behind the cottage where you can see the water.”

  Jordan followed, dragging his feet and muttering something under his breath, and Tony just led the way because he didn’t know what else to do. The kid was scaring him, and he felt like he needed to do something but didn’t have a clue what. Not leave him in front of the TV thinking, anyway. He was pretty sure Richard would have agreed with this plan.

  Pretty sure.

  A dirt track wound up the bluff behind the cottage and then over a rise, taking them to the sheer drop of the cliffs and the bay far below. Jordan stopped and stared, impressed despite himself. A warm breeze blew in their faces, but Tony had been right: the wind coming off the water was cooler.

  “Not bad, huh?” Tony asked.

  Jordan grunted in response. Below, they could see some of the house kids exploring tracks down the cliff side. It was a wild prospect, wilder than in the fishing village—Tony could see caves dotting the cliffs to the north and the tangled, rocky path of a landslide to the south. Laughter and chatter from the explorers floated up from below. He didn’t know what Dr. Smith and Susan Brown had told them about their sudden relocation, but whatever it was, most of the kids were doing a good job of embracing the adventure.

  He looked at Jordan and saw, alarmed, that the boy’s face had gone blank again. Was he hearing something? Seeing something?

  Nothing good, if he was.

  Tony smacked him in the arm, a friendly gesture but meant to jar him out of whatever head space he was in, and pointed to a steep trail winding down. “Let’s go,” he said. “Looks like fun.”

  “You’re not supposed to take me out from under the shield,” Jordan said.

  Why did that sound like a challenge?

  “I’m not,” Tony said, growing irritated. “The shield extends down there. Now come on. You need to get some exercise.”

  Jordan looked like he was about to retort, but he didn’t. Instead, he picked his way forward, and with a scowl over his shoulder at Tony, started down the steep path.

  Tony followed, pleased. About time the kid just went for it. He still wasn’t sure what he hoped to accomplish out here, other than distracting the boy.

  The path wasn’t easy to follow. It was steep, and interrupted with roots and nettles and the low, sweeping branches of tangled pines growing out of the cliff side. The air grew cooler as they descended, but the exertion of keeping their feet drew a sweat from them both, and neither spoke. Tony got the distinct impression that Jordan was mad at him anyway, or at least highly irritated, and tried not to feel completely irritated back. He was supposed to be the older, more mature one, right? So he should have some patience?

  Something like that, yeah.

  The bay stretching out before them was blazingly blue, glaring up at them under the sun. A haze farther out on the water softened it, and Tony thought over all the plans they’d discussed in the fishing village and wondered whether Chris was out on the water with Mary and April and David.

  He swallowed a lump in his throat.

  They had never been close, but David had been the closest thing to a father he’d had for most of his life. It wasn’t easy, the betrayal. He kept his mind mostly focused on chasing demons and fighting and helping Reese, and didn’t think too much about the personal impact of David’s turning his back on all of them. Actually hating them. Trying to kill them.

  It sucked.

  Jordan had stopped. Tony almost walked right into him, pulled forward by the sharp downward slope. “What?” he asked.

  Jordan pointed to the left, south. Another path followed a level ridge, twisting a bit, and looked like it eventually led to a cave.

  “Yeah, that’s cool,” Tony said. “You want to explore?”

  Jordan just rolled his eyes and headed up the path, leaving Tony to follow, grumbling to himself. The kid’s bad attitude was rubbing off.

  The air outside the cave was foul, like something had died inside. Jordan looked like he was going to go inside anyway, but just before he ducked through the opening, a raven overhead cawed.

  They both stopped and looked up. The bird was huge, sitting on a gnarled branch of pine about four feet up. It stared right at them for a moment and then spread its black wings and lifted off, hovering on an ocean breeze before flapping away.

  Jordan seemed frozen in his tracks.

  Tony watched the bird fly away, wondering why he felt so unnerved by the encounter.

  Jordan turned on his heel and started back the way they had come, pushing past Tony.

  “Hey!” Tony called. “Don’t you want to explore the cave?” He knew it stank, but still ... he wouldn’t have let that stop him as a boy.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just don’t okay?” Jordan was climbing back up the path toward the cottage, moving faster than he had on the downslope. Tony hurried after him. What was ...

  He stopped.

  The bird.

  He hadn’t thought to look closely, to see if it could have been possessed.

  That wasn’t uncommon. The demons wanted bodies, needed them for a lot of things. Animals were less useful than humans, but still animate, and easier to possess. Birds, with their good eyesight and ability to get close to humans without alarming anyone, were especially common hosts.

  And the way Jordan was high-tailing it back to the cottage ...

  “Hey!” Tony called,
unhappy with how much distance the boy was putting between them. “Wait up!”

  Jordan didn’t. If anything, he sped up even more. But Tony increased his own speed and closed the gap between them, his lungs burning from the fast jog straight uphill.

  “Was that a demon?”

  No answer. Jordan was still climbing.

  “Kid, come on! I need to know. Was that a demon?”

  Jordan swivelled his head and looked at him, his eyes wide and his face pale. Still no answer. He looked away and kept going.

  But Tony had seen what he needed to know. He clambered up after Jordan, keeping the space between them tight, so he could hear the boy’s laboured breathing and see how spooked he still looked.

  “Did it talk to you?” Tony asked.

  Still no answer.

  Tony stopped and put out his hand, grabbing Jordan’s shoulder and pulling him to a halt. “I need to know,” he said. “I’m trying to take care of you. All of you.”

  “You shouldn’t have brought me down here,” Jordan said, and he pulled away and kept going.

  When they got to the cottage, they were greeted by bad static and tinny laughter. This time Alicia was watching TV, and Angelica was hanging out in the stamp-sized kitchen next to it, looking through cupboards full of glass bottles stopped with corks. A few sported nearly unintelligible labels. Most weren’t labeled at all. She threw Tony a look when he entered, pointing to the bottles. “How old was that hermit? I think maybe I found the elixir of life.”

  “Angelica, something’s up,” Tony said, closing the cupboard in front of her. She protested, but he ignored her. Jordan had gone straight to the TV, sitting next to his sister and hugging his knees to his chest.

  “We saw a demon,” Tony said. “Jordan and me. In a bird.”

  “Why were you out?” Angelica asked. “You were supposed to keep him here.”