Cursed Seer

by J. A. Culican

  He manages a weary grin from his hiding spot, which does nothing to hide him from me, and shakes his head. "Not if I can help it. I just need to recharge, and it sounds like Talon needs me to do so sooner rather than later."

  Jason says, "Hurry after them. Before they get to the next checkpoint, you can take a side corridor that intercepts them near some unused offices. If you can get the drop on them and keep them from radioing out, that's the best place to hit them."

  "I'm on it." Luka grins over his shoulder as he bolts for the door and disappears.

  Startled, I reach for him, but I stop myself from shouting after him at the last moment. We’re trying to be quiet.

  Glenn heads for the door. "Let's follow Talon, too. Move in four-second intervals to keep the noise low."

  He doesn't wait for a response before striding through the doorway. Meredith goes through seconds later, with Birka following so close she's almost stepping on Meredith’s heels.

  I take two rapid, deep breaths before I rush after the others. Every few seconds, Luka comes on the comm to say which way he's turning, in the tersest way possible. It makes it easy to follow him, even though I've lost sight of the others. At least I have that going for me.

  Every step I take echoes through the empty, tiled hallway, distorting as it bounces off the walls and sounding like someone else's footsteps. Once, I stop dead in my tracks, certain I hear someone approaching, but two seconds later my echoes die and I'm left in silence.

  My comm activates, startling me, and Jason's tinny voice whispers in my ear, "Get moving. You're falling behind."

  Even though I'm alone, I find myself whispering in reply. "Where?"

  "Keep going the same way. Go through the next intersection, then turn right. Hurry..." His voice is tight and high-pitched, sending my pulse racing even faster.

  He'd have told me if he spotted anyone nearby, I tell myself. I put my head down and sprint.

  The next four-way intersection is a blur as I pass it. Did I see movement down that hallway? It must've been my imagination. Jason is watching over us. I tell myself that over and over as I head toward the next intersection, but it does little to calm my jangled nerves.

  When I get there, I swing wide so that I'll have a good view of any threats coming from the other direction. Even as I'm doing it, I feel foolish. There could just as easily be an enemy coming from the opposite direction, after all.

  There. I definitely heard footsteps, ones that were not my own. I pause in the middle of the intersection, listening. A single set of footsteps... echoing from behind me.

  I step behind the nearest cover, which is around the corner—in the wrong direction. Dammit, it's too late. If I bolt across, whoever is coming down the hallway is bound to see me, if they haven't already. I try to focus on the footsteps, but this is made more difficult by the thunder in my ears from my pounding heart. I glance down to find my knives in my hands. My experience and training is telling me what to do even before my adrenaline-fractured thoughts catch up with me.

  I wait. I could try to run down the hallway, away from the intersection, to find more cover. No, my footsteps would give me away. I’ve just learned an interesting life lesson about entrusting my life to someone else, and Jason is busy keeping track of our whole team, split up as we are.

  Well, I won't make that mistake again...

  An alcove! I spot it over my shoulder, just to the right. I duck in, moving as quietly as I can. It's not as big as I had hoped, just an indentation in one wall for a pair of water fountains. Dammit again. If that guard passes me, he'll easily see me.

  Then, my situation becomes more dire as the footsteps stop. There are four heartbeats of total silence before a man's raspy, shaking voice calls out, "Is there anyone... Who goes there?"

  I feel my palms begin to sweat.

  Hesitant footsteps. "I heard you. I know you're down there. Show yourself." He racks a pistol, the unmistakable sound echoing. As scared as he seems, he’d probably shoot his own mom on accident if she came around the corner suddenly at that moment. This does not bode well for me.

  The footsteps grow closer. He's coming my way. He had a fifty-fifty shot at picking the right path, but that's just my luck. The only thing that keeps me from panicking at that moment is the fact that I have not had a vision of my own death. Not yet. Then again, I'm not entirely certain it works on myself, but I cling to that desperate hope.

  Just as that thought speeds through my mind, a guard appears, his head turned to look directly at me. His mouth forms a big "O" shape in surprise, but as time seems to slow down, the pistol in his hand is rising—and I realize he will get me before my plunging blade can get him. No, no, no...

  Everything still appearing to move in slow motion, the guard's head seems to crumble in on itself and the life leaves his eyes before his knees begin to buckle. My knife, already in motion, strikes true—but he never does pull the trigger. He was dead before I stabbed him, I realize, as he crumbles to the floor.

  I stand motionless, staring at him, blinking rapidly. What the hell just happened?

  Glenn's voice comes from nowhere, but not through my comm unit. "Well, don't just stand there staring like a tourist. Get it together, Ella."

  Aha. I don't know where to look for the invisible Glenn, but that doesn't stop me from trying out of reflex. I taste bile in the back of my mouth as the vision of the man's skull caving in flashes before me over and over, like a strobe light. I swallow hard, pushing the bile back. It was necessary, I know, but I desperately want to believe there could have been another way. There wasn't, but how am I supposed to feel about watching a man murdered before my eyes? It's not the first time, and it won't be the last, but it's times like these that remind me that I was a frightened, naïve outcast huddling in a tiny apartment not so long ago.

  "Ella." Glenn's voice is tinged with irritation. He appears before me abruptly, one hand up by his ear to remove his enchanted earring. "We don't have time for this. Get it together."

  I snarl at him before I realize it. "You already said that."

  "Well, then, why don't you do it? We have to go." In an instant, he's invisible again. "Dammit, just follow my footsteps. I hope you can handle that."

  Before I can reply, his boots are clicking down the hallway, heading the way Jason had told me to go. I follow, but my thoughts are still on the moment the life left that man's eyes. Glenn's casual demeanor is not quite as disturbing as that image, but if I could see him, I think I'd be looking at him differently, now.

  When Glenn and I catch up to the others, we find them standing off to one side of a hallway. A faint "tap, tap, tap," turns out to be Birka tapping her foot. Her impatient expression is mirrored on the others' faces as well.

  Luka turns to look at us as we approach—or rather, to look at me, since Glenn is invisible—and his pallid complexion and sunken features take me by surprise. I blurt, "Geez, Luka, you look like crap."

  He purses his lips tightly and nods once, but doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. It's clear as day that he's starting to fall apart again. I force myself to look away from the first love in my life, turned into a ghoulish killer thanks to Dawson's monstrous contraption. I'm glad he's alive, but to stay that way... The things he must do...

  I shake my head. We have to deal with one thing at a time. "Why are we all just standing around?"

  Birka's nose rises into the air, her expression indignant. "We can't get in touch with Jason. Talon and his guards were supposed to be here."

  Meredith, slightly hunched over with one finger pressing her earbud in your ear, says quietly, "Jason? Come in, Jason. We need you."

  Birka shoots Meredith a dirty look. I suppose she disapproves of the woman's polite tone.

  So, I'm a bit surprised when his voice comes over the comm unit, "Thank you for your patience. A Sysadmin was poking around where he shouldn't be, suspicious. Maybe he found a log file that didn't match up, something I missed. It doesn't matter, though—I trapped him in a V
irtual Machine just like on that one episode of S-T-N-G where Moriarty—"

  Birka cuts him off, snapping, "Enough. Where is Talon?"

  I can't help but cock my head at her. If Jason hadn't stepped out to deal with that problem, he might have been cut off entirely. Then where would we be?

  Before I can say as much, Jason replies, "Dammit. There's a shortcut to intercept them, in the pre-loading bay. Head west, then north at the T intersection. There's one problem, though."

  Meredith, rolling her eyes, hisses an exasperated sigh. "We'll deal with it. Thanks."

  Birka holds up one hand, halting us mid-step. "Jason, what's that problem?"

  "You'll have to go through a checkpoint. It's the fastest route, though. Once you turn at the intersection, the hallway bends. Just after that, there are two guards with assault rifles, both on high alert from the looks of it. Figure it out on the way—get moving."

  Birka, apparently satisfied with that, moves out immediately and the rest of us follow.

  Before we get to the next four-way intersection, Luka says, "Glenn. Give me that earring, will you? I have an idea."

  The look on Luka's face is one I've seen before. It was common enough on the junkies who roamed the streets outside my old apartment, often loitering around building entrances like mine. They got that look when they were about to get their fix.

  My stomach flip-flops. But without any better idea of my own, I stay silent.

  Glenn appears out of midair and hands over his enchanted earring.

  Luka takes a deep breath and plunges the earring post through one unpierced ear, vanishing immediately. "On my mark, give me ten seconds and then follow me toward the checkpoint."

  First, I hear footsteps. Then, invisi-Luka says, "Mark."

  I count off seconds in my head, but when I get to ten, no one is moving. I look up to find everyone looking at Birka, who stares at her watch. "... Nine. Ten."

  I guess my speed was off, what with all the adrenaline going around. I follow Birka, the others falling into step around me.

  When we come around the corner to the checkpoint, each of us is battle-ready, but we needn't have bothered. There's only one person at the checkpoint, Luka. As we approach, I look around, confused. No guards, no blood. No sign of any struggle, really.

  A scowl crosses my face. "What happened?" It's the obvious question, of course.

  That's when I realize that Luka no longer looks haggard. In fact, he looks damn good. His face is pink and flushed, healthy, and his cheeks are no longer sunken in. He looks like a million bucks.

  "Don't worry about it. Those guards won't be bothering anyone anymore. Let's go." Luka walks away, earring in hand.

  Meredith and I exchange a look, then she shrugs and we both follow the others. With Jason guiding the way, it doesn't take long to arrive at a double set of swinging doors, just like the ones in supermarkets that lead back into the warehouse.

  Jason says, "Talon still has his two guards. The three of them are just standing around, like they're waiting for something or someone. Beyond that room, which is some sort of pre-loading area, there is the main warehouse area where the trucks come to drop off supplies. It looks like every other warehouse I've ever seen, except there are half a dozen guards inside. So take these two out, rescue Talon, but be quiet about it and get them before they can call out on their radios, or you'll have guards up to your ears to deal with."

  Oh, is that all? This just gets better and better. “Charge through the double doors and try to take them out as quickly as we can.”

  Birka, however, takes her head emphatically. "Hell no. Sorry, my dear, I meant to say, 'that is a bad idea.' Instead, I'll use my Gift to distract the guards, while Luka goes in first with that earring. The rest of us will follow a couple seconds later, and hopefully, Luka can deal with them before we are needed."

  He grins at her, his eyes getting that same addict expression again. "You got it."

  Birka moves out a few seconds after Luka. I draw my knives and follow with the rest. I guess the chips will fall where they may, this time.

  So far, no death visions for me or my friends. That doesn't mean it will stay that way, though, and I take deep breaths to try to slow my heart rate as we sneak through the warehouse doors.

  Just ahead of us, invisi-Luka goes through the double doors from the storage area into the loading docks. The doors swing open silently, seemingly of their own accord, just wide enough to allow a single person to slip through.

  We come through, too, right on time. Talon is being half-dragged, half-carried by two guards heading toward the main loading area, and for a moment, my heart tears in two at the thought that he might be dead. Then he rolls his head to one side and spits feebly at a captor. Always the fighter. He’s alive, which is all I care about.

  Actually, I also care about the two guards who both look over immediately when we come in. They drop Talon unceremoniously, one stepping between us and him while the other pulls out a radio from a nylon holster on his waist. Click—"Tango Four at Alpha One, we've got Sam times three—no, five."

  As if on cue, the five of us—Birka, Glenn, Ida, Meredith, and me—come to a halt at the same time. What should I do? My hands slide to my knives in their sheaths behind my back.

  Before I can draw them, however, Meredith steps toward the guards, smiling. "Hi, fellas. Did you two silly gentlemen forget we need an escort out of here?"

  I almost feel like I can see the power radiating from her as she uses her Gift on them, twisting their minds. It works on our kind, too, but these are mere mortals. They never have a chance against her.

  One smiles at the princess and says, "Oh, my apologies. We had to escort this guy to transit."

  At the same time, the guard with the radio clicks and says, "Tango Four to Dispatch. Disregard our last. We are all Charlie Three, here."

  His radio crackles and a voice says, "Roger that. I'm noting all clear at Alpha One. Be advised, transit incoming."

  Meredith begins to open her mouth again, continuing her display of power, when first one and then the other guard freezes, looks confused, and crumbles to the floor spurting blood from their necks.

  Luka becomes visible, his dagger still plunged into the crook between one guard's neck and shoulder. That's practically an instant kill, as far as these things go. The room suddenly feels hot as I glare at him. He's grinning like a junkie who just shot up, apparently heedless of the fact that he just murdered two men who didn't need to die. Two men, simple humans, who might have families at home. Wives and kids who will now never see them again. Two men who, ironically, had just unwillingly joined our side.

  Birka lets out a burst of air, a loud sigh. "Was that truly necessary, Luka? I know you heard them."

  Casually, he wipes his knife clean on the dead man's trouser leg. "Absolutely. There's no room for two more on this mission. It's going to be hard enough slipping out of here even without them—"

  The roar of a diesel engine revving as a vehicle downshifts just outside echoes through the loading bay. Through the open roll-up metal door, there's a small parking area, into which a burly SUV pulls and stops. Without it roaring, I hear another engine humming, too, and a moment later, a white mini-transport van pulls up behind the SUV.

  "Perfect," Luka says. "We'll just have Princess Meredith dominate them and we'll have a free ride out of here."

  All four SUV doors open together and out step three burly men and a woman who's easily as burly as any of them. They all wear the same uniform, similar to the mortal guards inside, but black-on-black with blood-red trim.

  And they radiate power. I recognize our kind when I see them, and I feel like my heart is trying to climb out of my throat. "No..."

  Birka hisses under her breath, "Shades."

  My comm unit clicks and Jason's voice comes through. "Be alert, the camera shows two vehicles heading your way."

  "Yeah," I hiss back, "we see them already parked and getting out. What the hell, man?"

 
"Damn, that camera must be on a delay. Hide those two bodies, dammit, and think fast."

  My mind's voice sounds snotty even to me as the thought, "Thanks for nothing, buddy," passes through. I manage to stop myself from actually saying it, but only barely.

  Luka and Glenn get the two dead guards dumped in a big trash bin in seconds, though there's little we can do about the blood on the ground. If we weren't about to be discovered, I'd be yelling at him now. In fact, we have a few seconds to spare... I step toward him, ready to verbally pounce on him.

  Over his shoulder, through the open bay door, I see the transit van emptying out—and I halt mid-step, the words dying on my lips. Those are Gypsies being herded out. "Oh lord, no..." Those aren't just any Roma. "Mom?"

  Luka hefts Talon up into a sitting position with Glenn's help, and between the two, they get him more or less standing upright.

  Luka says, "I'm feeling better than ever before, but I can't take on four Shades and keep Talon safe."

  Another engine sounds, and seconds later—as the Shades outside get my family into a single-file line—another SUV pulls up. Four more in the same uniform emerge from it, as well.

  "Eight to six is long odds," Glenn agrees.

  Meredith poises her chin in one hand, and nods slowly. "Maybe we don't have to. I have an idea. These Shades probably don't know us or Ella, but they'll surely know Talon on sight."

  "What's your point?" Birka snaps as she looks all around, scanning the area, no doubt for a good place to make our stand.

  "Ella, give Talon your enchanted ring. He'll look like their employee, Jennifer What's-her-name."

  "McKinley." I run through the idea in my head, but I see a big problem right away. "It won't work, though. He's not the right size. It won't be nearly a perfect match. Hell, I barely pull it off and I'm the same size and height as our ID donor."

  Birka draws herself up to her full height. "Do it," she says, sounding again like a queen giving orders. "I'm on record here as Jennifer's assistant. Talon is damaged, and that will show in the illusion, as well. If we go out together in a rush, feigning an attack inside that wounded 'Jennifer,' they may be deceived, providing we can all speak at once, sounding frantic. It might distract them enough to give Talon only a passing glance."