Death's Echo (The Complex Book 0)

by Rachel M Raithby

  “I’m not stupid,” she scoffed, ending the call.

  Jaylon had finished talking as she walked silently back inside. “Desert?”

  “Yeah, my men say a riot’s broken out. They’re calling for back up.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Did you not hear me?”

  “We need chaos for our plan to work, Jay, remember?”

  “Captain hasn’t given the go ahead.”

  “Doesn’t matter. We’re doing this now. Cosima and the witch are ready to move. It has to be now.”

  “I can’t just tell my men to stand down.”

  “Well, tell them to contain it. Anyone who’s not fighting, therefore not infected, they get out, the rest leave.”

  Jaylon began to dress, when he’d finished, he fixed her with an intense stare. “Are you certain about this?”

  “Trust me, Jay.”

  “I do.”

  “Well, come on then.”

  The noise coming from Desert could be heard from a distance. Aqulla’s skin prickled with unease. It wasn’t an echo per se but very similar. It was as if part of her recognized the dark emotions in the air.

  Looking in from the entrance to the commerce area, Aqulla could almost imagine the black tendrils of smoke, twisting and circling its victims. It was in the air they breathed, like a physical brush against her skin.

  “You can feel it too?” Cosima asked, standing by her side.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s not too late to call this off. We could just lock Desert down and let it have them.”

  “It would come knocking eventually.”

  “What’s the plan then?”

  “Find its inhabitant, stop their heart.”

  “You make it sound so easy,” laughed Cosima.

  “You’re a foolish child to think it will be.” Aqulla turned, facing the witch she’d sensed come up behind her. Her hair was black as midnight, her skin aged with lines.

  “And you must be our witch.” Aqulla’s features shifted to show the banshee beneath. “I’m no fool.”

  “You walk to your death,” the old witch responded.

  Jaylon shifted uneasily beside her. Aqulla smiled before walking over the threshold and into commerce. “Death’s the easy part. It’s living that’s hard.”

  Anarchy surrounded her. Metas and Human alike fought amongst themselves, their faces full of rage and hate. Aqulla noted a few dead, laid broken on the floor. A small thread of guilt wormed its way into her head.

  “We shouldn’t have waited,” she shouted to Jaylon over the noise.

  “This isn’t your fault.” His response was immediate and firm.

  Jaylon touched a hand to his ear, then responded into his com. “Medics are here. My men have evacuated as many injured as possible.

  “Aqulla!”

  Pausing, Aqulla sought out the face to the call, spotting Cosima on the opposite side to where she and Jaylon stood.

  “Come on, Jay. It’s time to have a little fun.” Glancing back, she smiled at him, then bared her teeth.

  “We have completely different ideas of fun,” he called back.

  Aqulla pushed forward into the fray. Knocking down anyone in her way, she fought only to incapacitate, her claws slicing no vital points. Jaylon’s grunts followed her, though she had no time to check that he was all right. The nearer to Cosima she got, the denser the bodies grew. It was as if they were purposely seeking her out.

  “Jay, cover me,” she yelled, turning back behind him.

  He wouldn’t be able to hold them back for long, but she only needed a minute. Tapping her com, Cosima’s voice was there a second later. “Do you see him on the far side, leaning against the wall?”

  Standing on her toes, Aqulla strained to see. There with a smug smile, sweat beaded on his brow, his arms were crossed over his chest, his position almost casual.

  “The shadow walker, it’s controlling more than one host, isn’t it?”

  “Not exactly, but it’s infected them enough to direct them toward you. All I see is darkness, Aqulla.”

  “Start the spell. I’ll distract him.”

  Ending the call, Aqulla leaped forward as Jaylon was knocked to the floor. Kicking out, she then whirled low as the attacker stumbled back, her claws sliced through gouging the back of his knees. Screaming, the attacker went down, and one swift knock to the head had him unconscious.

  There was no time to check on Jaylon, another attacker took the man’s place and so the process restarted. Each one shifted her closer to the shadow walker. Aqulla had to presume the spell had been started when she’d instructed. Yet if the shadow walker felt it, he showed no signs. His attention was solely fixed on her, the smile on his face inviting her forward.

  There were only a few people between it and her. Blood coated her claws, and she breathed heavy from exertion. Chanting slowly registered from her left, and the shadow walker’s host stumbled forward, clasping his chest.

  Yet when he looked up and met her gaze, his features showed no signs of fear. A shiver of fear ran down her spine.

  “That’s right, Aqulla. I’ve been waiting for you.” The host fell to his knees, his blond hair matted to his forehead with sweat. “You walked willingly into my grasp.” The host’s voice was twisted somehow; it echoed with the promise of pain.

  The witches’ chanting grew louder, faster; her heart beat in rhythm to it. The crowd pulsed around her, the chaos she’d entered into willingly like shackles around her ankles.

  “And you brought me a present too.”

  Black tendrils of smoke curled from the host’s mouth, increasing with every second, forming into the shadow walker’s true form. It gazed at her, drawing her into its endless eyes. Aqulla was frozen, unable to react as it turned its sights on Jaylon.

  “No!” she screamed, but it was too late. Like it had said, they’d all walked willingly into the chaos it had created for them. It wasn’t their trap, but the shadow walker’s.

  The black smoke surrounded Jaylon, invading his body, and when his yells subsided and he opened his eyes, she could no longer see the man she loved.

  The chanting continued.

  “No!” Aqulla yelled, turning her gaze on the witches. “Not him, not Jay.”

  “Aqulla?” Cosima questioned.

  “I said no!” she growled.

  Jaylon had closed the space between them when she turned back around. He was so close, yet so far out of her reach. The fighting carried on around them but not once did it spill into the invisible circle around her and Jaylon. It was as if they were trapped inside a bubble separate to the rest of the world. Aqulla felt trapped in an endless nightmare on a loop. “Let him go,” she pleaded.

  “Why would I do that when possessing him causes you so much pain? Such sweet, sweet, pain. You actually love him, don’t you, this weak Human? They are so easy to break.” Jaylon reached for his weapon. “To control.”

  Her breath caught, the pounding in her head louder than any noise in the room. Jaylon brought the weapon up, turning it on himself.

  “No… please.” She took a step forward, her arm reaching out. “Anything but this.”

  “Uh-uh. Stay where you are, Aqulla, or he dies.” It was Jaylon’s voice, but it wasn’t him. It was filled with such emptiness that each word cut her.

  The weapon pressed against Jaylon’s temple. “What will you do to save him?”

  “Anything.”

  Jaylon smiled. Twisted, cruel, and nothing like the man she knew. “Will you kill for me? Torture even?”

  Swallowing the bile in her throat, a tear slipped down her cheek as she nodded.

  “I want—”

  Aqulla’s gaze snapped to his. For the briefest of moments, she could have sworn it was Jaylon in his eyes and not the shadow walker. “Jay?”

  His jaw clenched, hands fisted.

  “Jay? Jaylon, fight him!”

  The weapon shook in his hands, his knees trembled.

  “Fight him!” />
  Falling to the floor, the weapon still in his hand, Jaylon’s whole body seemed to clench before it went slack. Aqulla stepped forward, hope stirring within her. “Jay?” she whispered.

  He looked up. Clutching her mouth, Aqulla gasped and stumbled back.

  “Sorry, not your beloved Jay. Though he’s not as weak as I first thought. Remarkable really for a Human.” Jaylon climbed to his feet. “He really loves you. But not even love can save you.” The weapon rose.

  Aqulla watched helplessly, her body and mind numbing. She knew the shadow walker had no intention of leaving Jaylon, not when possessing him brought Aqulla such agony. It was all around her, a swirling storm of emotion, pricking her skin, weighing her down. Why would it leave when it stood in the center of the storm, seeing, feeling all?

  Her head hurt, the pressure inside of her skull close to bursting. Another tear escaped, rolling down her cheek.

  The weapon shook again. It was clear Jaylon fought the shadow walker from within, but it wouldn’t be enough, no amount of begging was going to have Jaylon released. In fact, it was what the shadow walker wanted. Aqulla felt deeply; it was part of her gift.

  “That’s it, Aqulla, cry for me.”

  She swiped at her tears angrily.

  “Let me feel your pain.”

  Feel my pain. “Have it. Have it all.” Opening her mind, Aqulla reached for every echo around her. She absorbed the deads’ screams, felt the last moments of their pain.

  Jaylon dropped his weapon and took a step toward her. He sucked in a surprised breath.

  “I feel more than pain. I live it, breathe it. You can feed off death, but I can live it, over and over.”

  Reaching out further, Aqulla took in more. “Leave him, have me instead.”

  “You’re not so easy to inhabit. Your mind is strong,” Jaylon responded.

  “I won’t fight. You can have me as long as you let him live.”

  “You’d give up your mind, your body, for a mere Human?”

  “I’d give my life for him.”

  The shadow walker raced toward her, black rolling clouds leaving Jaylon and surrounding her. It invaded her body, twisting through her blood, infecting every cell, every inch of her. It ripped open her mind, fed off everything around her.

  Screaming, Aqulla dropped to her knees. Blood dripped from her nose, her ears. Her brain felt like it was imploding but still, the shadow walker inside of her wanted more, its hunger never ending.

  Falling onto her hands and her knees, her gaze fell on Jaylon’s discarded weapon. Reaching for it took immense will, the few inches felt like miles. Her muscles burned, her vision swayed and still the shadow walker sought more.

  Gripping the weapon, she brought it to her head, her hand shaking.

  Jaylon struggled to sit, his skin pale and clammy, but he was alive. Their gazes locked, a silent message passing between them.

  His head shook, from side to side. ‘No.’

  “I love you,” she whispered, forcing her finger to pull the trigger.

  Tiredness was like a crushing weight. But seeing Aqulla holding a gun to her head, blood dripping from her nose and ears, her eyes bloodshot and full of tears, it was enough to cause his tired, broken body to respond.

  “I love you,” she whispered as he lunged forward.

  The weapon fired, but he’d knocked it enough to not kill her instantly. A scream tore from her. It carried the thousand haunted whispers of the echoes around. It wasn’t Aqulla’s scream but the shadow walkers. Jaylon had expected it to leave since its host was dying but when Aqulla looked at him, he saw smoke in her eyes.

  Clamping his hands over her wound, he uselessly tried to stem the blood seeping from her body. The laser beam had hit at an angle, burning and singeing skin before tearing flesh.

  Jaylon watched as her breathing labored, and his hands became slick with blood.

  Looking up, he helplessly searched the crowd. The fighting had suddenly stopped, leaving Meta’s and Humans standing in confusion.

  “Medic, I need a medic!” he yelled.

  Cosima dropped beside him, her expression showing none of her usual snark. “She has to die, Jaylon.”

  He met her gaze, eyes wide, heart a frantic beast inside his chest. “Then you’ll bring her back.”

  Cosima shook her head sadly, eyes filled with pity. “There is no coming back. We didn’t stop her heart.”

  “Then stop it!” he yelled, desperation filling him.

  “She’s already dead,” the witch said.

  “No!” He began compressions on her chest. “She can’t die. She can’t.”

  “Jaylon… please, she wouldn’t want this,” Cosima said.

  “She’d want to live,” he growled, pumping her heart for her.

  “You heard her yourself, boy. Living is the hard part,” the witch responded.

  Jaylon jumped to his feet, anger coursing through him. He grabbed the old witch roughly, shaking her. “Start her heart, or I’ll have you removed from this program. Both of you.”

  “You can’t do that,” Cosima gasped.

  “You’ve already seen the lengths I’ll go,” Jaylon hissed back.

  “It is a useless endeavor.” The old witch sighed, but began chanting. Cosima climbed to her feet. Taking the witch’s hand, she joined in.

  They blended into the crowd as the medics arrived. Their chanting a soft whisper on the wind.

  The medic pressed two fingers to her neck. His surprised eyes met Jaylon’s. “She still has a pulse. Unbelievable.”

  Whether it was caused by magic or not, Jaylon didn’t care. He held onto hope. “Come back to me, Aqulla,” he whispered. “Please come back to me.”

  “Not gonna have one for long if we don’t stem the blood. Move your hands.” The Medic brought out a small gun, running it along the wound, a foam paste filled, set, and sealed the wound. “A temporary measure. She needs surgery and blood. Stat.” Indicating to the man behind him, a gurney was laid down beside her. “On three. One, two, three.”

  Jaylon helped lift her as gently as possible. The gurney rose, hovering a few feet above the floor. “I’m coming with her,” Jaylon ordered. “And so are they.” He motioned for the Witches to come forward.

  “What?”

  Jaylon met the medic’s gaze. “Don’t question me. Follow orders.”

  He stared at the witches, focusing on their chanting. Meeting Jaylon’s gaze again, he nodded.

  They left the area, getting on a hovercraft specially designed for emergencies. Jaylon held Aqulla’s hand, quietly repeating, “Come back to me, come back.”

  Nothing else mattered. His only thought was that Aqulla couldn’t die.

  Surprisingly there was no pain. There was the initial searing of skin and tearing of flesh, then nothing. Her mind was empty, quiet, her body a numb shell. Then came the screams. Not her screams but its agonizing, tortured screams, streaming through her head, frying her brain. All of its kills passed through her, their torment, anger, and suffering.

  She wanted to die. She wanted it to stop, but through it all, Jaylon called out to her. He was an unwavering light in the endless darkness. Aqulla fought to be with him, to wake and answer his call.

  Darkness beckoned her, tempting her with its numbing silence. Death ended all pain. It would be her only chance at peace. Living wasn’t easy. With life came torment, vulnerability. With life came death’s echoes, but it also brought happiness, love, and Jaylon.

  Following his voice, it surrounded her, and Aqulla opened her eyes. At first, she was confused. For a minute it was as if she were back in time, staring at the same hospital curtain, in the same medical facility she’d been in before. But Jaylon wasn’t asleep anymore. The chair was right next to her. His hand was in hers, and his head was buried in the bed, his hair a tumbled mess.

  The words he spoke were full of pain, desperate begging.

  Aqulla attempted to speak, but there was something down her throat. Attempting to move, Aqulla found her b
ody unresponsive; it moved only slightly. Tears burned in her eyes as fear took hold of her mind.

  His body tensed, his hand freezing in hers. She squeezed his hand, waiting for his head to rise.

  He looked older, years older. There was days’ worth of stubble on his face, and his hair looked like it needed cutting weeks ago. Blue, blue eyes met hers, a spark of hope within.

  Struggling to move, her hand flopped up and touched the plastic in her mouth. A distant beep increased speed, and Aqulla struggled in the bed.

  “It’s okay. Relax, Aqulla, relax.” Standing, he slammed his hand against the wall above her head, pressing the button to summon help. Taking both of her hands, he stilled her struggles.

  Wailing filled the room, too loud for her ears. She winced as her brain throbbed violently.

  “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay,” Jaylon repeated.

  Seconds later people filled her room. The wailing stopped, replaced with frantic voices. Her bed was laid flat, Jaylon pushed back from her side. She wanted to scream. She wanted to fight, but all she managed to do was lie hopelessly still, tears rolling from her eyes.

  The tube was removed from her throat. It burned as it left, leaving her throat raw.

  “Wa— t— er.” Her voice was nothing but broken sounds.

  A straw touched her dry, cracked lips and seconds later, she sucked cool liquid down her throat. It both hurt and felt amazing, but was taken away all too soon.

  “Slowly, your stomach will only take small sips,” the nurse instructed.

  The straw was back. She sipped slowly as told. The water felt odd in her stomach. She let the straw go, feeling instantly sick.

  “It’s going to take a while to feel normal again. You’ve been through a lot. Try and sip a little more.”

  Aqulla lay in silence as they poked and prodded her, taking blood, reading machines. At last they left and Jaylon entered.

  “Aqulla,” he whispered, taking her hand and kissing her forehead. “I thought I’d lost you…. I thought.”

  “H—w lo—g?”

  He frowned. “How long were you out?”

  She nodded.

  He gazed at her like he didn’t want to say, apprehension marring his features.