Dark Gathering

by Karlene Cameron

  “This is where you jump in and suggest we both can be adults and share the same bed,” he said, with hope. His voice trailed off.

  She didn’t say a word, just eyed the bed, weighing her need for sleep versus her distrust of this man. She sat on the edge of the bed and, using her good arm, tugged her boots off. Lost in her own thoughts, Caitriona missed the knock on the outer chamber doors. It wasn’t until she heard voices heatedly exchanging words that she cast a glance at Sean, who was already rising and motioning for her to be silent. She quickly pulled her boots back on, the adrenaline pumping through her body.

  Pulling a small knife from his belt, Sean motioned her across the room, out of sight and away from the path of anyone entering the room. Signaling for Caitriona to be still, Sean crept closer to the outer doors, tightening the grip on his knife. She reached for the weapon she had holstered at her hip, but realized she had taken it off when they sat down to eat. The weapon was on the other side of the room. Not that it mattered. The weapon didn’t look familiar and she had never fired a gun in her life—at least, not that she could remember.

  Another knock, more insistent this time, caused Caitriona’s heart to beat erratically and she furtively looked around the room for an escape. They were trapped on the second floor and, while a jump from the window wouldn’t kill her, the soldiers would be on her before she’d be able to escape—assuming she could make the jump without breaking any bones.

  “We have orders to search this room,” came a commanding voice from beyond the door.

  Sean gestured for her to move into the bathing chamber.

  “This place is locked down, Harrison. Neither of you are getting out of here. Surrender the woman now and Hawkins said you can walk free.”

  Sean nodded his head slowly and Caitriona’s heart sank. He was going to give her up to Hawkins’ men. Her eyes darted around the room, frantically searching for a weapon she could use. She wasn’t getting out of here alive, but she’d be damned if she would go without a fight.

  “How do I know you’ll keep your word?” Sean yelled through the door.

  Caitriona hitched her breath. Wrapping her hand in a towel, she hit the vanity mirror, watching it shatter in front of her. Dropping to the ground she grabbed the biggest piece she could find, wincing as the shards and jagged edges bit into her flesh, drawing blood. Somehow, she knew she’d suffer much worse if Hawkins took her.

  “You don’t,” one of the soldiers yelled back. “But we’re coming through this door either as friend or as foe. Your choice.”

  Sean backed toward her, noticing the jagged piece of glass she held in her hand.

  “I’ll cut you from chin to navel if you touch me,” she hissed.

  He gave her a lopsided grin and, grabbing her wrist, applied enough pressure that she dropped the makeshift weapon. She cried out as he reached above her, pushing open a hidden door that was recessed into the ceiling.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he told her. “But I am rather hurt that you went there.” He grinned at her, the smile lighting his eyes.

  “Harrison,” the soldier yelled.

  “Yeah, I know. We’re coming out so hold your fire. You be sure to tell Hawkins I had no idea who this woman was. I was just looking to get a little…friendly…for the evening.”

  He cupped his hands in front of him, motioning for her to climb up into the crawl space. She stared at him as she realized he was helping her escape.

  “Stay in the tunnels and continue south,” he told her. “I will try to catch up with you, but if you’re stopped, tell whoever stops you that you want to speak to Maeve and that I sent you. Say nothing until you see Maeve. Understand?”

  “They’ll kill you.”

  “They’ll try.” He winked at her and thrust his cupped hands near her foot.

  He hoisted her into the space above as she heard the front door crash in. She crawled on her hands and knees as fast as she could, trying to tune out the noise of the weapons. When she heard a shout, she considered going back to help Sean, but knew it would be useless. Sean had likely given his life for hers. She wasn’t about to give up the only advantage she had and one for which he’d paid a heavy price.

  After several minutes, the tunnel grew large enough to where she could stand and the terrain began to slope downhill, making her efforts easier. Every few feet she paused to listen for footsteps, but hearing nothing, she continued. She didn’t know how long she walked. The tunnels were pitch black, which made vision nearly impossible. A few times she felt something scurry past her feet. She shivered, not wanting to think about what kind of creatures traversed these tunnels.

  Hearing muffled voices ahead of her in the corridor, she stopped, her heart beating a fast staccato as she assessed this newest threat. Looking around for any place to hide, she realized there was nowhere to go—at least nothing that she could see in the blackness of the tunnel. She had to go forward, reasoning that it was better to take her chances on what was in front of her rather than returning to the horror she had left behind. Still, perhaps she’d be better off waiting in the tunnel to see if Sean would join her. Given the amount of gunfire she left behind, she knew that was a long shot.

  Pushing aside her fear, she crept forward, her hands splayed in front of her, picking her steps with care. A dim light in the distance flickered several times before being extinguished. She stopped, fear causing her heart to accelerate. Just as she mustered the courage to press on, an arm snaked around her waist pulling her tight against a hard body. In an instant, a large hand clamped over her mouth stifling the scream that threatened to erupt. She tried kicking and clawing at her attacker, but to no avail.

  “Stop struggling, or I will cut off your air and you’ll find yourself waking in a not so pleasant place. Do you understand?”

  She stopped fighting and nodded her head, his hand making the movement difficult.

  “I’m going to remove my hand now, and we’re going to exchange pleasantries and information. If I so much as think you’re about to scream, I will lay you flat on the ground.”

  She nodded again.

  Her assailant pulled his hand away and she sucked in a deep gulp of air, releasing it slowly. “Let’s have a look at you,” he said, spinning her around so she was facing him. He lit a small source of light he held in his hand.

  Caitriona was trembling. She had no idea if this man was friend or foe and, for not the first time, she realized how vulnerable she was.

  “Well, you’re not much of a looker now, are you?” he mumbled, holding the light to her face. “And you certainly don’t look like you’d hold up in a summer breeze, but I reckon old Maeve will want to have a chat with you just the same.”

  “Maeve?” she croaked. Her lips were dry and parched and her words sounded far away.

  “You know old Maeve?” he asked her, hesitation in his voice.

  “No, not personally,” she replied. “I was told by Sean Harrison to see Maeve. He said that if anyone could help me, it would be her.”

  He laughed, a grin stretching across his face. “I reckon she can at that,” he said. “Name’s Jon Piper.” He held his hand out and she shook it hesitantly. “I won’t hurt you,” he said. “My bark’s far worse than my bite.”

  “How did you know I was here?” she asked.

  “I didn’t. I come down in these tunnels every night to see if there are refugees needing help. We haven’t had any though for months, so it was a bit of a surprise to find you down here.” He motioned for her to start walking as he lit a small handheld light that dimly lit the path before them. “What’s your name, young lady?”

  “Catie,” she said for the second time that night. Somehow it just felt better—safer—to not provide anyone with her real name. She had no idea what lengths Hawkins might go to find her—and she wasn’t about to test it and find out.

  “Well, Catie. Do you mind telling me what you’re doing down in these tunnels? Aside from coming to see old Maeve?”

  She d
idn’t say anything and they continued to walk in silence.

  “How do you know Sean Harrison?” he asked.

  She was beginning to feel uncomfortable with his line of questioning. After all, Sean’s instructions were clear: talk to no one. She continued walking, hoping he wouldn’t continue pressing her for answers.

  “It would be best if we put as much distance between us and New Washington as we can,” he said when it was clear she wasn’t going to answer his questions.

  She nodded. She was exhausted, but Jon was right; they needed to keep moving. “How far until we reach Maeve?”

  He chuckled. “That all depends.”

  “On what?” She stopped walking. She didn’t like his cryptic answer and casual tone.

  “Relax, Catie. If I had wanted to hurt you, I could have done so by now.”

  She folded her arms tight around her middle and started walking again. It was cold in the tunnels and the clothes Sean had given her were hardly any better than the torn garments she left behind.

  “Maeve rarely sees people,” he said, slowing his pace so she could keep up with him.

  “Why not?”

  “She’s a bit of an enigma in these parts. There’s lots of legend and folklore. Maeve doesn’t dissuade the myths, but she doesn’t encourage them either.”

  “What kind of legends?”

  “There’s some that say she’s a psychic. She can see things, can tell if people are pure of heart. Some have called her a witch; say she can heal the sick and afflicted. Dwellers living in these tunnels revere her, keep her safe and protected. If Hawkins found her, he’d kill her, so she keeps hidden. Lets Hawkins think she’s folklore and myth. It’s safer that way.”

  Caitriona straightened. Maybe Maeve could help her. Perhaps Maeve could help her get back to Seattle and shed some light on how she ended up in this strange place.

  “But you know where Maeve is?” Caitriona questioned.

  “More or less. No one finds old Maeve—it’s more like Maeve finds them. Sort of perpetuates her urban legend, I suppose.”

  Caitriona stumbled and pitched forward, exhaustion taking its toll. Jon reached for her, keeping her on her feet. She winced as his fingers pressed a little too hard into her shoulder, the pain a reminder that the wound was just beginning to heal.

  “You’re hurt,” he observed. It was more of a statement than a question.

  She nodded, unsure if he could see her movement in the dim light of the tunnel.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he growled. “Do you have any other wounds?”

  “My left foot is still recovering from frostbite,” she confessed. “I’ll be alright, though.”

  “We’ve got over 10 km in front of us,” he warned. “Are you up for that?”

  Caitriona did a rough calculation in her head and knew there were about six miles ahead of her. She wanted to cry. No, what she really wanted was to curl up in a ball and just sleep; and when she woke, she wanted to be back in her comfortable, Seattle apartment.

  She nodded, again not sure if he could see her in the dark. “I’ll be fine. I just…can we just slow down a bit?”

  He stared at her for a few seconds and Caitriona wondered what he could possibly see in the indistinct light. Reaching one arm around her back, he placed his other arm under her knees and scooped her into his arms.

  At her protest, he said, “You can’t possibly weigh more than 50 kilograms—I’ve carried more than that, in twice this distance, during training exercises.”

  “But…”

  “We’ll make better time this way,” he assured her. “Just rest.”

  She didn’t want to argue. It felt good to be off her feet and in this man’s arms. He was strong, capable, sure of himself. She still didn’t know if she could trust him, but she was out of options. So instead, she nestled into his arms and closed her eyes, the sound of his heartbeat lulling her to sleep.

  Chapter Thirty

  Sean Harrison pulled the trap door back in place and turned just in time to dodge a round of fire from one of Hawkins’ men. Pulling his weapon, he fired three rounds as he dodged behind the door leading to the bed chamber. He knew the room wouldn’t provide much cover for long. The question was, how many men did Hawkins have outside?

  Peering around the corner, he fired another blast, disabling the man closest to him. Two more in rapid succession and he had managed to clear the outer room. Leaving the safety of his makeshift cover, he made his way to the door, peering into the hall. He stepped over two of the fallen soldiers and made his way to the open stairwell that looked out over the common area where several patrons had gathered for their evening meal. The innkeeper was standing in front of the commanding officer in charge of the raid, his hands shackled behind his back. The patrons remained quiet and pensive, unwilling to get involved lest they become targets of the Order’s soldiers.

  Sean cursed under his breath. What was this woman to the Order? What did she have that would cause Hawkins to send his troops for her? Perhaps she had done nothing more than gain the unsolicited advances of the monster himself, he speculated. But even as the thoughts came unbidden, he pushed them away. While she was certainly attractive, there was some other reason she had garnered Hawkins’ attention. Solve that, and you solve the mystery, ol’ boy, he thought.

  “Bring the girl,” the commanding officer bellowed to his men on the second floor.

  Sean froze. The officer hadn’t yet realized his soldiers were lying dead at the top of the stairs. “She’s not here,” he yelled back in a deep baritone. He had to think fast.

  “Where did you hide the woman?” the officer questioned the innkeeper.

  Shit, shit, shit, Sean thought, his mind already in overdrive calculating his options.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” his friend stammered, the tremor in his voice calling attention to his frayed nerves. “She came in with a man. But they left 20 to 30 minutes ago,” he lied. His eyes said as much.

  “Upstairs, now,” the commanding officer yelled to three soldiers on the main floor.

  Sean heard boots on the stairs. Shit, shit, shit, he thought again. He was cornered. Nowhere to go but out. He was damned sure not going to the tunnels. He wasn’t sure why the Order wanted this woman, but he wasn’t about to divulge her secret.

  Hearing a crash and the sound of weapons firing, Sean rushed out into the hall. Some of the patrons screamed. Glancing down from the top of the stairs, he saw a man he recognized and a smile lit his face. “Now that’s more like it,” he said, drawing his weapon and racing for the stairs. He leapt down the stairwell, jumping past the last five steps as he landed on the ground and fired into the crowd of soldiers.

  Fighting his way to the men who had engaged the Order’s troops, he fired on two unsuspecting soldiers who were just entering the building. The innkeeper ducked behind the bar while the patrons scurried to flee the battle zone. Sean motioned for his two allies to make their way to the front while he provided coverage from the rear.

  Clearing the last threat from the room, the three men exited the front, surveying the empty street in front of them. Seeing no more of the Order’s soldiers, they holstered their weapons.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes, MacKinnon,” Sean said, clasping arms with his longtime friend and commander of the Templar army.

  “I should have known ye’d be the one fightin’ yer way out of impossible odds,” Duncan chuckled. “I don’t believe ye two have ever met,” Duncan said, nodding toward his companion. “Nicolas LaFelle, this is Sean Harrison.”

  Sean glanced at Duncan, extending his hand to the younger man. “The empath?” Sean asked, squinting his eyes as if he expected the man to look different.

  Nicolas glanced at Duncan but remained silent.

  “Aye,” Duncan said, nodding his head.

  “You two want to fill me in on how you know each other?” Nicolas asked, shaking Sean’s hand.

  Duncan smiled and turned to Nicolas. “Se
an’s the lad who helped hatch the plan to take Caitriona. In fact, it was Sean here who discovered the wormhole we traveled through. His calculations got us safely there and back.”

  “I’ve heard the stories,” Nicolas told him.

  “Why were you battling with Hawkins’ men?” Duncan asked, changing the subject.

  “If I’m a betting man, I’d say it’s the same reason you are,” Sean replied, piecing together the puzzle. If he was right, the woman he’d just help escape was the magically gifted Caitriona Sinclair. “I hazard a guess you’re looking for a pretty little thing, yay tall,” he held his hand about a foot below Duncan. “Striking red hair and the purest green eyes I’ve ever seen.”

  “Where is she?” Nicolas interjected.

  “Somewhere below us in the tunnels of New Washington,” Sean replied, running a hand through his short hair.

  “Damnu!” Duncan snarled. “I swore an oath to protect this woman, with my verra life, if necessary,” he growled. “An’ I’ve failed her on nearly every account.”

  “We’ll find her,” Nicolas said. “Can you show us how to access the tunnels?” he asked Sean.

  “Yes, sir. There’s another entrance not far from here. But I don’t want to risk leading the Order to the tunnels. Hawkins will send more troops.”

  “Nicolas, is she close?” Duncan asked.

  Nicolas closed his eyes and Sean watched as the younger man tilted his head to one side as if he was listening for something only he could hear. After several seconds, he opened his eyes and shook his head. “My connection with her is weak at best,” he apologized.

  “I told her to keep moving south until she found someone that could help her reach Maeve.”

  “If Nicolas canna feel her, she could be drugged. There’s a good chance the Order has her. Could explain why Hawkins hasn’t yet sent more men,” Duncan said, running his hand through his sweat-soaked, tangled hair.