Darian cringed. Maybe he wasn’t paranoid, which only made him feel worse. A false alarm was much better than the real thing.
“All is quiet inside,” he tapped back.
“Adalina confirms the same outside.”
One more confirmation that today’s events would not end well. He created a group message to his scouts. “Be ready for demons.”
As he hit send, the building rumbled, and the floor beneath his feet tilted, tossing Darian into the man next to him. It shook again, and dust fell from the ceiling above them. Cries of alarm echoed through the room, and people rushed the exits, tripping over each other despite the efforts of the UN security to coordinate an orderly evacuation.
Darian dialed Mikel’s number, unconcerned about being overheard in the now screaming populace.
“Mikel, what’s happening out there?”
“It looks like several bombs went off in the subway station,” Mikel replied hurriedly. “Adalina’s men went down to check it out.”
“We have chaos in here!” Darian yelled.
Claud appeared at his side, a wild look on his face matching the chaos inside. “Eva and I just ran into a man coming from a side stairwell,” he yelled into Darian’s ear, trying to be heard over the screaming. “He said we were too late, then pulled a knife from his belt and thrust it into his heart.”
Darian stared at Claud. Was the subway a distraction and the UN building really the target?
“There’s another bomb below us!” Darian yelled, the realization striking him immediately. “Get these people out of here!”
Darian dropped his concealment; magic was the least of humanity’s worries right now. Instead, he started shouting at the people still trapped in the building. “There’s a bomb in the level below us! Everyone out!”
Before the first person could respond, the floor beneath the center of the hall buckled in waves, then exploded. Darian was thrown back into the alcove he’d been hiding in, and the back of his head slammed into the wall, stars floating in his vision. His ears hummed, and he struggled to get to his feet. Claud lay on the floor beside him, blood pouring from a gash on his head. Darian dropped to his knees looking for a pulse. It was faint, but it was there. He grabbed the scout’s arm and teleported him to the tower in Santuario.
“Raphael!” he screamed as soon as they arrived.
The Runemaster emerged from the meeting room across the hall. “What happened?” he asked, his eyes widening at both men’s bloody clothes.
“There is no time to explain. Get him to Magdelin.” Darian didn’t wait for a reply, knowing that Raphael would take care of his scout, and instead teleported straight back to the chaos inside the UN building.
He found three more of his scouts digging through the debris to reach survivors. Darian pushed a chunk of concrete from an Australian woman’s legs and carried her towards the exit. She drifted in and out of consciousness as he picked his way through the rubble. Stephen met him on his way back into the building.
“How many scouts are hurt?” Darian asked.
“Ali has a cut on his arm, but he’ll be fine,” Stephen replied. “Fran has a sprained ankle and a nasty bruise on her hip, but it hasn’t stopped her from helping others get out.”
“I took Claud to Magdelin,” Darian said. “I’m not sure how bad his injuries are. Hopefully, I just overreacted.”
Stephen raised an eyebrow, and Darian scowled at him. He didn’t need judgement from Stephen.
“Any demons?” Darian asked.
“None.”
Relief spread through Darian. They couldn’t deal with an assault right now.
They worked for over an hour getting the wounded out of the still-crumbling building. The delegates who had been in the center of the room didn’t survive, and Krieg was among the fallen. Darian pursed his lips and forcibly swallowed the lump in his throat when he found his friend’s body. Of the dozens of delegates and their aides, only five left the building alive.
The subway was worse, though. Hundreds of people were still trapped in the tunnels, many of whom wouldn’t last. Adalina’s team worked tirelessly to dig them out alongside the first responders who arrived shortly after the blast.
Darian looked at the scouts gathered around him. They were all covered in soot and blood but appeared mostly unharmed. Relief flooded through him that he didn’t lose any of them, but it was short-lived when he noticed a man approaching him. Darian instinctively knew he was Csökkent. He wasn’t sure why. He just knew.
The man shied back from Darian’s glare, standing a few feet away.
“I deliver a message from Master Orin to the Watcher,” the man said in broken English, his German accent thick.
“Speak.”
“Master Orin said to protect your Sentinel. When the bombs go off, the demons are summoned and the Sentinel will fall.” He bowed and quickly ran in the opposite direction.
Fear and panic gripped Darian as the building around him shuddered. Dust and chunks of concrete fell from the shattered ceiling.
“We’ll get the rest of these people out, boss,” Eva said. “Go.”
Then, the city grew quiet. At first, Darian thought it was his fear of losing his Sentinel but quickly realized an eerie silence fell over everything. He looked around in confusion. A dusty haze filled the air, and he finally understood what it was. The sirens from the ambulances had gone silent, as well as the buzz from dozens of neon signs. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, but the screen was blank.
“What just happened?” Eva asked, shaking her phone.
“I don’t know, it’s almost like the power went out,” Fran replied, leaning her weight awkwardly on one leg.
Stephen’s hand rested on Darian’s shoulder. “Get out of here, boss. We got this. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Get Sara to Santuario before the demons take her.”
Darian teleported to the pasture beside Seraphina’s home and pulled his concealment tightly around his body. The house appeared to be intact. The cows grazed in the field, with the chestnut mare nearby. The foal laid in the grass, its legs curled beneath it. The farm’s serenity was jarring after the chaos of New York. He shook some of the soot from his hair and clothes, then filled his lungs with the clean air.
He closed his eyes and pushed his mind into the surrounding forest. Darian followed the outlines of the trees for almost half a mile before he found the first demon. A dozen of the horned monsters hiked down the foothills from the north. They would reach his Sentinel in less than fifteen minutes.
Chapter 10
Seraphina
Sara watched the TV with her mouth gaping open in horror. The United Nations building was reduced to a pile of twisted metal and concrete. People covered in dirt and ash stumbled out of the building, some supporting others who couldn’t stand on their own. Memories of the career she abandoned a decade ago flooded back to her. Being a federal officer with the FBI and working closely with the Secret Service on many occasions had shown Sara parts of humanity that she wanted to forget. Some people were evil. There was no other explanation for their actions. And here she was, witnessing it yet again.
Shortly after the report of the bombing in New York, another flashed across the screen, then another, and another. As the reports of devastation streamed across the television, Sara collapsed into her husband’s recliner. Hundreds of cities across the world lay in ruin, but the report from Baltimore left her numb. Her daughter was in Baltimore working for an accounting firm downtown. It was now a pile of stone and steel.
Tears streamed down her face, and she barely heard her phone ringing on the table next to her. The answering machine picked up and Weasel’s voice startled her.
“Sara! Answer the damn phone!” he yelled into her machine.
She scrambled to pick up the receiver. “Don’t yell at me!” she screamed back.
“You need to gather your guns, and get to Smoky’s now, woman. There are demons in Clark, and they're tearing the place up.”
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“What are you talking about, Weasel?” Sara snapped, rising from the recliner.
“Turn your TV to the local news,” he replied.
She picked up the remote and changed the channel to the local station out of Powell, Wyoming. Shaky videos of enormous creatures with horned heads and black claws brought her to her knees. She forgot Weasel on the phone and dropped it on the floor in front of her. What the hell were those things? She heard the man’s muffled voice and picked it up again.
“Hurry up!” he yelled. “If I don’t see you there in twenty minutes, I’m coming to get you.”
The line went dead, and Sara stared at the monsters raging through Powell and, according to Weasel, terrorizing Clark as well. The appearance of these monsters couldn’t be a coincidence. She’d never believed in aliens or the zombie apocalypse, but all her reservations were suddenly thrown out the window. Her thoughts went to the strange man at the fence and his warning. She hadn’t told Andrew about seeing him, convinced it had just been a product of her imagination. People didn’t suddenly appear and toss out warnings of doom and gloom, then disappear just as quickly. So how was he right?
“What’s happening?” she asked the empty room. She ran to the hall closet and pushed the coats aside to reveal her gun safe. She flipped the dial back and forth until it opened, then pulled out the twenty and twelve-gauge shotguns, the M4, and her Glock. She laid them on the dining room table and went back for ammunition when the lights suddenly went out. It was mid-morning, and sunlight filtered in through the windows, but the lack of power unnerved her. The power station was in Powell. Had those monsters just destroyed it? She grabbed several boxes of shells and nine-millimeter rounds, tossing them into a large bag and throwing it over her shoulder.
She grabbed her purse, then reached for her cell phone. The screen was black. She pressed the power the button but nothing happened. She pressed it again, then smacked it on the edge of the table. Still nothing.
“What the hell?”
She threw it in her purse and grabbed her keys, slamming the front door as she left. She cursed again when she pushed the unlock button on the key fob for her Jeep, and nothing happened. After unlocking it manually, she tossed the bag in the back seat, then climbed into the driver’s seat. She put the key in the ignition and turned. Nothing.
“Oh, my God!” she screamed and hammered on the steering wheel with her palm, turning the key in the ignition over and over again.
Tears streamed down her face. She was stranded. Sara pushed open the car door, pulled the weapons from the back seat, and went back into the house. Silence met her, and panic threatened to overwhelm her. Standing in the foyer of her old farmhouse, she fell to her knees once again. Could she hide from the monsters? What were the chances of them not coming all the way out to her farm? Her thoughts went to the hundreds of people in Clark and Powell, most of whom she knew. She’d spent the last fifteen years with those people. Watched their kids play sports and have slumber parties with Julie. After a ten-minute meltdown, she wiped her eyes and took a deep breath.
“I’m not a victim,” she said out loud. “I will not allow these things to take what is mine.”
Her old HAM radio in the office squealed, and Sara screamed with it.
“Mama Bear, you out there?”
She recognized Weasel’s voice calling for her. She locked her front door and went to the office.
“Go ahead, Weasel.” Her voice shook, and she took a deep breath to steady it.
“Your Jeep didn’t start, did it?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“I made it into Smoky’s drive when mine died.”
“How many people made it there?” Sara asked, sitting down in the old wooden chair at the desk.
“We got about twenty adults and half as many kids.”
“That’s all?” Sadness stole her breath, and she choked back the flood of tears threatening her again.
“Clark’s gone,” Weasel said softly. “One of the families here barely made it out. They said those monsters are brutal. No mercy. Don’t care if they’re killing kids, old folks, or even dogs. They’re just killing.”
“What’s happening, Weasel?”
“It’s the end of the world, girl,” he replied. “Say your prayers, and hope they bypass your house.”
She took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank God my Andrew isn’t here.”
“Sara, people are saying it was an EMP that took out the power.” Weasel paused. “Do you know what that is?”
“Yes, I do.” She knew all too well what that meant from her time with the FBI. Tears started streaming down her face once again. “I gotta go, Weasel. Keep running updates for me, even if I don’t reply. I’ll keep the receiver on so I can hear you.”
“Love you, girl. Be safe.”
“Love you too, old man.”
She leaned back in the wooden chair, listening to it moan beneath her. Did she really just lose her husband, too? Would an EMP turn off all the power in the plane he was on, or would they have been high enough in the air to avoid it?
Who would possibly be in charge of an army of monsters? Were they demons, or was this an alien invasion? Sara shook her head. Humanity had tried so hard to connect with anything outside the solar system. Could they have found something? And how did this mysterious group coordinate the destruction of so many cities across the world? Before her television died, reports from dozens of countries were already flooding the news. This wasn’t something that popped up overnight. Someone planned this for years.
She rose from the chair and went back into the living room. She knew she was in shock. Too many bad things happened in the last hour for her not to be. She mindlessly walked through the house, closing all the blinds and curtains, locking the doors and even pushing furniture against them. She dragged the buffet from the dining room into the foyer and opened the gun safe again. With all her weapons loaded and laying on the buffet, she listened to Weasel and other radio users broadcasting reports of the demons’ locations. It seemed like they were closing in around her, and it was all she could do not to panic.
After thirty more minutes of reports from Weasel, the radio went silent. Fifteen seconds ticked by, then forty-five, then sixty, then ninety. Sara’s pulse increased, and her stomach dropped. Why had everything gone quiet? Just as Sara pulled herself from her spot on the floor to yell at Weasel, one of the living room windows shattered, and a man rolled through it. He crouched just below the windowsill and turned towards her.
She stared at him, dumbfounded. The layers of fine dust covering his clothes didn’t hide his deep blue eyes and sandy brown hair. It was the same man from the day before who warned her to be careful. She shook her head and wiped the tears from her eyes. He wasn’t a figment of her imagination after all.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asked, reining in her impending emotional breakdown as much as she could. Her throat hurt from the constant lump in it, and her eyes burned from her tears. Worst of all was the ache in her heart. “Do you realize what’s out there?”
She squared her shoulders and returned his stare. He slid to the side, away from the window and stood. She tried not to gasp as he rose to stand well over six feet tall. He didn’t look that tall standing in the field yesterday.
“I know exactly what’s out there,” he replied with a deep voice and accent she couldn’t place. “I’m more aware of the danger you’re in than you do.” He strolled past her to the stairwell. “We need to pack your things. They’ll be here in fifteen minutes, maybe less.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked. “Don’t you think I would’ve left already if I could?”
He stopped mid-step and looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“My jeep won’t start,” she replied softly, again trying to swallow the ever-present lump. “Weasel, my neighbor, said there was an EMP that took out all of our electronics. My cell phone doesn’t work either.”
A stra
nge expression crossed his face as he pulled his own phone from the front pocket of his blue jeans. He tapped the screen several times and his frown deepened.
“We’re wasting time.” He turned back to the stairs, taking two at a time.
She stood in the middle of her living room, her gaze jumping from her pile of weapons to the strange man. He said she had less than fifteen minutes. Did she have time to contemplate her options? If he could get her out of here, she could find her family. She raced up the stairs after him, yelling the whole way.
“You better not be in my bedroom, you heathen!”
She watched him turn the corner into her room, and her sadness turned to rage.
“Then you better get in here and pack yourself,” his voice bellowed. “I’m giving you thirty seconds, then I’m doing it for you.”
She stormed through her doorway to find a black bag laying open on the bed. He stood in front of her closet, pulling several shirts from their hangers and stuffing them in the bag.
“Stop!” she screamed. “Don’t touch my clothes. It hasn’t been thirty seconds yet. And that’s not how you pack shirts.”
She pulled the bag to her only to find it empty. Her head snapped back, then turned to him.
“Deceiving, isn’t it?” he asked, his lips raising into a weak smile. “Stop staring at it, and get your personal items before I do.”
She composed herself quickly, going to the bathroom and grabbing soap, shampoo, and deodorant. She dumped them on the bed, then turned to her dresser to get underclothes. Her face flushed as she grabbed several pairs of silk underwear and matching bras.
“Where do my things go when you throw them in this bag?” she asked, holding her panties against her chest.
The corners of his mouth twitched again, but she noticed he refrained from grinning.
“I’m not exactly sure,” he replied, throwing several pairs of jeans from her closet into the bag. “Raphael never explained that part, and I never thought to ask. If you want something from the bag, just think about it, and it will appear.”
She raised her eyebrows and frowned. “That’s ridiculous,” she replied, still clutching her undergarments. Was he implying the bag was magic? Was that any more insane than her imagining him at the fence post? Or the demons marching towards her home?
Sentinel's Rise: Book 1 - The Watcher and the Sentinel Series Page 6