Rook (Bridge & Sword: Awakenings #1): Bridge & Sword World

by JC Andrijeski

  I tried to raise a hand––

  ––and the motion of my arm was abruptly stopped.

  I stared down at the handcuffs for a full minute before the reality of them penetrated. I looked at my ankles next, found them bound with hard plastic, like those tie-binders they use on reality cop shows popular on the feeds.

  Leaning back, I leveraged my weight to try and budge the only object I thought I had some chance of influencing, namely the plastic armrest. When it stayed firmly affixed to the door, I looked over at him again, watching him stare at me.

  I translated his expression as disinterested puzzlement.

  He didn’t try to stop me as I continued to test my limits of motion. My whole body hurt; I felt like I had a tequila hangover, complete with the head-splitting migraine. I felt weak, hungry, nauseous, borderline light-headed. I also felt weirdly exposed, even under the dog-smelling blanket someone––probably him––had draped over my legs and lower body.

  I still wore the same clothes I’d had on at work.

  My throat hurt. I was insanely thirsty. My neck crimped from where I’d slept against the car door. I thought about my mom in a kind of blurred panic. I struggled against the door’s armrest again, only pausing when my headache bloomed hotter, forcing me still.

  I tried to think past the pain, wondering if I could reason with him.

  “I can hear you,” he informed me, his words flat. He turned, staring at me with those glass-like eyes. “You know that, right?”

  His words jarred me. I’d forgotten about the German accent.

  I’d also forgotten that he’d said he was a seer.

  He shifted in his seat, as if uncomfortable. “Don’t force me to knock you unconscious again. I would rather not. There are things we need to discuss.”

  I looked out the windows, fighting a deeper panic.

  I saw Jon in my mind, a flicker of memory as he crashed into that table, knocking it over backwards. I heard gunshots, heard this same man, cursing in a foreign language in my ear. I remembered people in the diner screaming. I remembered Cass trying to stop this man from dragging me to the door. My mother’s face flashed in my mind’s eye. I imagined her reaction when police knocked on her door, when Jon came in, limping and injured, saying I’d disappeared, that I was wanted by the cops and Seer Containment.

  Staring at the scenery flashing by, the mist-covered ocean out the window past the man in the driver’s seat, I realized how far away from San Francisco we were already.

  “Maybe forty minutes to the Oregon border,” he affirmed, glancing at me. “I had to take the coastal highway most of the way, which slowed us down. They don’t have as many flyers out here. The camera posts are mapped, so easier to avoid.”

  I blinked. Turning over his words, I tried to make sense of them. In the end, I shook my head, unwilling to follow the trails they wanted to lead me down.

  “My mother is suicidal,” I said, turning towards him. “She drinks, and she’s suicidal.”

  He didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at me.

  “I can’t just disappear,” I said. “I can’t, all right? Whatever this is, you can’t just take me out of my life like this. It may seem like nothing to you, but people depend on me. I take care of my mom. I go there every day to make sure she’s okay, and––”

  “I know all of that.” He cut me off without looking over, rearranging his hands on the steering wheel. His expression remained taut. “You also clearly remember enough about what happened in that diner to know there’s nothing I can do about it, Allie.”

  I flinched when he said my name.

  His expression tightened, but he didn’t take his eyes off the road.

  “Are you going to tell me what this is?” I said, when he didn’t say any more. “I mean, clearly you’ve kidnapped me… right? Are you going to tell me why?” I watched his face in the silence that followed, biting my lip. “Look. I get that you’re seer. I get that. But whatever this is, it doesn’t make any sense. I’ve never done anything to you people. I was always supportive of seer’s rights. I was never one of those people who—”

  He let out a low, humorless laugh.

  It startled me into silence.

  I was still fighting to think through my mind’s cocktail of anger and panic and migraine when he turned, his eyes like two flat stones.

  “I’m sorry for your mother. Truly. But as I said, there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.” He made an odd, graceful gesture with one hand over the steering wheel. “When we get somewhere safe, it is possible I can try to influence things. But right now, I have no way to get word to anyone who could help your family.”

  I touched my ear, looking for my own headset, and he frowned in my direction.

  “I threw it out. Before we left the city.”

  “What?” I stared at him. “Are you serious? That was a registered headset. I could get fined for that… not to mention it being illegal.”

  He shook his head, making an odd clicking noise with his tongue. The sound again conveyed a kind of cynical humor, like he couldn’t believe what I was saying.

  He went on like I hadn’t spoken.

  “The second I go into the Barrier, we would have SCARB all over us,” he said, his voice stripped of emotion. “Any attempt to communicate via headset would also immediately put the authorities onto us. In either case, we’d be picked up, likely within minutes. We’d be separated, collared, and stuck in a World Court black site. I’d be questioned and probably beaten to death. You’d likely end up in a genetics lab… at least until the Rooks extracted you.” Another flat stare. “None of these scenarios would help your mother, Allie.”

  Again I flinched when he used my name.

  He continued to watch me, gauging my expression with those glass-like eyes.

  “Your brother appeared to be all right. Physically, at least. He will be questioned by SCARB, and likely Homeland Security… but he is human, so they will likely let him go after conducting scans to ensure he knew nothing about your true racial status. They will put him under surveillance, of course, but they will have no reason to detain him.” He made another graceful gesture. “You did not hurt him badly. He can help your mother.”

  I absorbed his words.

  He definitely knew way too much about me. He knew too much about my family.

  I felt the blood slide from the veins in my face as the rest of what he was saying sank in. Not just the part about him having no intention of letting me go. More and more, that felt like a detail. I tried to wrap my head around the broader implications of what he’d said. My mind just couldn’t go there, not entirely.

  Glancing out the dusty windows, I fought through the limits of my options.

  We drove on in silence while I massaged my wrists around the two handcuffs. I watched out the window as he passed a semi-truck.

  We passed another a few minutes later.

  I considered yelling out at them, banging on the windows, but the more I thought about it, the more the possibility struck me as not just futile, but dangerous.

  The sun was getting higher now. I could see seagulls and pelicans winging over the diamond patterns of sun flickering over waves. It was beyond strange to be looking out over that perfect view with my wrists handcuffed to the side of a stranger’s car.

  When I glanced over at the seer next, he was staring at my bare thigh, which had shifted out from under the ugly, gray blanket. Seeing the denser look rising to his eyes, I retracted my leg, hiding it back under the coarse wool.

  I’d forgotten all those other stories about seers.

  Frowning, he averted his gaze.

  “You are safe with me, Alyson,” he said.

  I let out a low snort. I couldn’t help it.

  When he gave me a sharp look, I made my expression blank, staring back out the window. This time, I looked through the glass on my side of the car, staring up at the sandy cliffs that lined the road to my right. My fingers clutched the chain between the metal b
racelets. I tried to think if there was any way I could talk him into unlocking the handcuffs… then I remembered again that he could read my mind.

  That pretty much limited my options.

  “Yes,” he agreed neutrally.

  I faced him, fighting a sudden stab of anger.

  “Are you really not going to tell me why you took me?” I said. I stared at him, breathing harder when he didn’t answer. “What? Are you a religious fanatic of some kind, like your pal in the diner? A terrorist? One of those ‘unaffiliateds’ who want a seer nation?” Still watching his face for a reaction, I bit my lip, fighting to control the emotion that intensified with each breath I took. “I’m a fucking waitress… did you miss that? Do you really think anyone’s going to think twice about blowing my head off to get to you?”

  He made that soft clicking noise with his tongue.

  I watched him do it, briefly dumbstruck at how alien it sounded, and how alien he looked as he did it. I’d read somewhere about seer language, how they used sign language in addition to verbal and telepathy. It hit me again that he really wasn’t human, no matter how he looked.

  I don’t know if he heard me thinking that, too, but his next words bled impatience.

  “Alyson,” he said. “You’ll need to control your emotional reactions. Try, anyway.” He glanced at my face. “You need to get over your denial, too.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” I snapped.

  Again, his expression tightened. He glanced at me, his eyes hard.

  “You were seven when I began watching over you.”

  When I let out an angry sound, he cut me off, his voice hard.

  “Yes. It is true.” He made that shrugging motion with his hand again. “There is a term for it. It is seer, though. It won’t mean anything to you. I was not around much in the physical. My job was to keep an eye on you. To assist in keeping you hidden, where possible.” Grunting, he gave me a flat look. “That became increasingly difficult these last two years. Your behavior has been… erratic. It is why I came in person.”

  “Erratic?” I stared at him. “What do you mean, my behavior has been ‘erratic’?”

  Turning, he quirked a dark eyebrow at me. His lips twisted in a kind of cynical humor.

  “You stabbed your ex-lover’s girlfriend,” he reminded me. “In public. With a broken wine bottle.” Grunting, he looked back at the road. “You got arrested, Alyson. That’s not something I could cover up. Even with our contacts in law enforcement.”

  I stared at him.

  For a moment, I fought with how to argue with that, how he even knew about it. After another pause, I shut my mouth, shaking my head.

  “I’m not judging you,” he added. Giving me another sideways glance, he clicked his tongue. That time I heard real amusement in it. “Truthfully, it was a very seer thing to do. But it was also very conspicuous. Too conspicuous.”

  “Seers stab people a lot?” I said, sarcastic.

  “When it comes to infidelity, yes.” Again he turned, staring at me with those crystal-like eyes. “Only usually we’re a bit more thorough.”

  Still staring at him, I clenched my jaw, incredulous. “If you’re seer, can’t you make me believe anything you want?”

  Once more, he turned, aiming a cold stare at me.

  “Of course,” he said. “But why would I? You are nobody, as you said.”

  I couldn’t say much to that, either. Turning back towards the window, I clenched my jaw, fighting to think.

  “He called me something,” I said. “The guy in the diner. He called me a name––”

  “Bridge, yes. That is your title.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “The Bridge. So this is… what? Some myth of yours? Like a Dalai Lama kind of thing?” When he didn’t answer, I sharpened my voice. “You have to know how fucking crazy that sounds to me. You’re a seer. You have to be able to put yourself in my shoes a little, right? Empathy comes with the territory?”

  The man’s mouth firmed to a line.

  I waited, wondering if he would answer.

  He didn’t.

  Biting back impatience, I shook my head. “You sound German. I didn’t think any seers even lived in Europe anymore. I thought you were all in Asia, with the exception of a few who worked directly for—”

  “Alyson,” he broke in. He turned on me, his voice cold. “Just stop.”

  “Stop?”

  He nodded, his eyes on the road. “You understand this better than you’re pretending. This is shock.” He waved a hand at me vaguely. “Denial, maybe. You know the truth. Your human life… it is over. You are talking at me, saying things you know are not true, or half-true. You are trying to convince yourself that this is not real, that you don’t understand. It is better to remain quiet. To allow the truth to sink in.”

  I stared at him. Realizing there was at least some spark of truth to what he was saying, I clenched my jaw.

  When he didn’t say anything else, I broke into a shaky laugh.

  “Okay. Look.” I flipped my arm over, showing him the lighter skin of my inner arm. I pointed at the “H” tattooed there in black ink on my skin. “Sell your crazy somewhere else, okay? I’ve been tested. Literally hundreds of times. I was adopted, so I got tested every time I registered. Whatever you’re trying to do, framing me as some kind of über-seer, Syrimne-wannabe, I don’t appreciate being the fall guy for whatever takeover trip you’ve got planned…”

  I trailed as he hiked up the sleeve on his own left arm.

  Seeing the barcode there, on a lean, olive-toned arm, my eyes locked on the black “H” tattooed on his skin. He watched me long enough to make sure I understood, then lowered his sleeve, putting both hands back on the leather-wrapped steering wheel.

  “It’s ink, Alyson,” he said. “It’s fucking meaningless.”

  I lapsed into silence, that sick feeling in my gut worsening. After another pause, I shook my head, remembering my last visit to the doctor, what he’d said––

  “Are you really going to pretend you didn’t do that thing?” The seer turned on me for real, his narrow mouth curled in a frown. “Gaos d’lanlente. Alyson! Your name is likely all over the news feeds by now. Your name. My face. Your face.” He continued to glare at me, anger tingeing his voice. “You want to blame me for this? I would have gotten you out quietly. I would have gotten you past him, if you’d just––”

  “Yeah,” I snapped. “You were doing a bang-up job getting me out ‘quietly,’ all right. Stellar. I particularly enjoyed the gun you aimed at my head.”

  He frowned, looking away. Staring out the windshield, he twisted his hands on the steering wheel’s leather grip, not speaking as he clicked under his breath.

  I sat there silently too, scowling as I stared out the window.

  Even so, both of our words began to sink into the deeper recesses of my brain. Thinking about their implications, I swallowed. My hands grew suddenly cold.

  Had I really done that? Had I really thrown people across the room?

  “Yes,” the man next to me growled. “You did.”

  Barely pausing in my thoughts to give him an angry glare, I clenched my jaw, not answering. Still, that sick feeling in my gut was getting worse.

  Telekinesis was not a common thing. It was practically unheard of, even among seers. Apart from Syrimne, who’d been dead something like eighty years, I was pretty sure another telekinetic seer hadn’t been discovered since seers were first found on Earth.

  It certainly hadn’t happened in my lifetime.

  Syrimne’s legacy remained alive and well, though.

  As far as most humans were concerned, Syrimne was still the bogeyman. During World War I, he’d wiped out half of Europe. He’d killed a few million people across a number of different human armies. He’d blown up planes, igniting fuel tanks with his mind. He’d done the same with armored vehicles, even tanks. He’d exploded bombs, ignited the gunpowder in bullets before they left their guns. He smashed bridges covered in troops,
destroyed water mains and supply lines, set fields on fire.

  He’d killed millions of civilians.

  According to one account I’d read, he’d even set the air on fire.

  In the end, it took an elite team of seers and humans, working together, to bring him down. If not for them, Syrimne likely would have gone on to destroy Russia and the Middle East, and maybe the United States and Asia, too. Germany would run the world now.

  Or, more likely, seers would.

  A few dozen theories existed as to why Syrimne helped the Germans in the first place. Most believed he’d simply been using them, using the war to divide and conquer human factions. Those same scholars and pundits believed Syrimne would have turned on Germany, too, in the end, likely as soon as peace was declared among the humans.

  I remembered reading various debates around his probable motives in my race history classes in college.

  I’d never heard of another telekinetic seer existing, apart from him.

  Thinking about that now, and about what little I remembered from the diner, I felt sick.

  That sick feeling worsened, the longer I stared out the window.

  “You are understanding now?” That gruff, German-sounding voice. “You see why I had to get you out of there, Alyson?”

  That time, I heard a faint sympathy in his words.

  I stared out the window without seeing anything, gritting my teeth so tightly they hurt. That nausea I’d been feeling was bad enough now that I was seriously worried I might puke all over the gray blanket. I tried not to think about Jon, or the fact that the diner was wired with cameras, like every public building in San Francisco. SCARB would have access to all of those feeds. So would the San Francisco Police Department. And Homeland Security.

  “I won’t let them take you, Alyson,” he said. “Not if I can do anything about it.”

  I could only look at him.

  He cleared his throat, gesturing in that way that reminded me of a shrug.

  “There are several… oddities… in your make-up,” he said. “Some of these will aid us in getting you out safely. Your blood is undetectable as Sark.” He glanced at me. “Seer, I mean. The lack of discernible markers for your blood is an extremely rare condition. Only one in several hundred thousand seers have this. I have it, too. It will make it easier for us to get past any attempts they might put in place to keep you from leaving the country.”