Brink of Dawn (A Chosen Novel Book 2)

by Jeff Altabef

  Three girls lay on old mattresses against the far wall, their hands tied to metal beams.

  I’ve seen enough. “We need to make sure none of the guys can get to those girls. The girls are only twenty feet back from these creeps. They appear to be sleeping, or drugged.”

  “Let’s draw them out,” suggests Troy. “If they hear some noise over here, perhaps they’ll come and investigate and leave the girls behind.”

  I nod. “I like it. What should we use for a diversion?”

  “I’ll create a fire by the staircase,” says Akari. “When they come running, we’ll surprise them from behind. While we clobber them, Connor and Blake should be able to make sure the girls are safe.”

  “Awesome.” I nod and wait for Akari to do her thing.

  The air starts to shimmer. First sparks pop and then a fireball erupts, an angry-looking thing the size of a Volkswagen Beetle.

  A loud voice shouts from the other end of the room. “What the.... Look at that!”

  As the fire rages and spreads along the wall, Akari beams a toothy grin.

  “Grab a blanket!” one of the thugs yells. “We’ve got to put it out.”

  Loud squeaking sneakers race along the floor, kicking bottles and junk as they go.

  As they get louder, so does the sound of my beating heart. It feels as if it might burst from my chest.

  Four guys race past us, their attention fixed on the fire.

  I spring forward, Akari a step behind me, Troy a few paces slower.

  The slowest guy must have heard us because he stops and turns.

  Before he can shout, I hit him with a hard chop to his throat and sweep his legs out from under him. He hits the ground hard and I kick him in the head. I move so fast it barely slows me down.

  The Fusion has not only instructed me on swordplay, but also given me knowledge of advanced fighting techniques.

  The other three guys spin to face us.

  Akari sprints forward and launches herself in a flying bicycle kick.

  The short chubby guy she hits has no chance. He’s flattened.

  I glance at Troy to make sure he’s safe.

  He tackles the man holding the blanket and rides him to the floor hard.

  I turn to face the last guy, but it’s too late.

  He uses my distraction to rush me. He’s solid and we both crash to the ground, and the wind is knocked out of my lungs. He’s the first to stand and kicks me hard in the ribs. He must have steel-tipped boots because I see stars. When he tries a second kick, I grab his foot and twist, which sends him sprawling to the floor.

  I roll away from him, wince at the pain in my ribs and struggle to my feet. By the time I’m steady he’s also upright and facing me.

  He’s holding a six-inch blade and has a sneer plastered across his face. “I don’t know who you are, but you messed up good. I’m going to carve my name into your face.”

  “Right.” I stare him down.

  His hand shakes a little. He was probably expecting me to run, but when he realizes that I’m not afraid, he dashes forward and swings the blade in a small arc.

  My entire body feels electrified, and I can barely sense my limbs. I’m a ball of energy. I step forward, grab his wrist and smash his arm down on my knee. Bones break, the knife clatters against the concrete, and he yelps like a dog.

  “I guess you messed with the wrong girl this time.”

  His eyebrows arch upward in disbelief, and his mouth gapes open in a circle. “How—”

  “Like this.” I throw a roundhouse, and he’s knocked unconscious before he hits the floor.

  I check on Troy and stop cold.

  Blood drips from his nose, but the guy he tackled doesn’t stir under the blanket.

  The blood doesn’t bother me; it’s the worried look in his eyes that makes my heart jump.

  I turn and my body hardens to stone.

  Connor holds his arms straight up over his head, palms out in surrender. Blake stands near the radio with one gang member knocked out by his feet.

  A tall, greasy-haired, twenty-something guy has wrapped his left arm around Lilly’s neck and presses a knife against her throat with his right hand. His wild eyes dance around the room. “Who are you guys?”

  Connor speaks in a smooth, disarming voice. “We’re a bunch of nobodies, but you really don’t want to wind us up. Don’t panic and wet yourself. Release the girl and we’ll let you leave. Otherwise, you’ve made a really bad choice and we’ll get angry. I won’t be so friendly then.”

  I march toward them.

  Lilly’s eyes pulse with panic and her body hangs limply in the bad guy’s arms. A new welt has appeared on her left cheek. They must have beaten her. If he stabs her with that knife....

  I start to see red. All I can focus on is that welt and the knife.

  “I’ve never seen anything like that before.” He turns toward me. “What’re you... witches or vampires?” His arm tightens around Lilly’s neck and he stares at me. “Stay where you are.”

  I freeze.

  He’s hurting her.

  She pulls at him and gasps for air. She’s too weak to budge his arm and her face turns purple.

  I can’t let him hurt her, and he’s too far away for me to grab him, so I reach out with my mind; bright blue energy bands whip from my body and twist around his arm. I’ve mentally created these connections. I’m sure no one else can see them, yet they feel real to me.

  The link is different from the telekinesis I used back at The Underground—more solid, sturdier, more real. I’m using Greasy Hair’s own electricity to connect with him. I yank on the bonds and loosen his hold on Lilly’s neck. Then I summon more mental bindings that wrap around his body and hold him in place. He’s practically mummified in blue energy.

  Now that he can’t move, I march toward him. “Don’t be an idiot. There’s no such thing as witches or vampires. We’re way worse. We’re Chosen.”

  His eyebrows arch upward and his eyes explode in their sockets. “What’re you doing to me? Let me go!” He struggles against my energy but it’s useless. He’s locked in place, mine to do with as I please.

  I stalk toward him. “Let you go? Are you serious?”

  Connor says something, but he sounds distant, as if speaking under water.

  My concentration is so intense I only see and hear the violent, greasy-haired, Lilly-abusing cretin. Everything else fades away. I stop a few feet in front of him and mentally yank on the streaks of energy that hold his arm. I pull hard, freeing Lilly and dislocating his elbow.

  Connor catches her before she hits the floor.

  Terror laces his words. “She wanted to... join us. What’re you... doing? Why can’t I move?”

  His fright only strengthens the bonds I use to hold him. Energy flows between us and I twist his hand and point the knife at his face. The tip glistens.

  He struggles to throw it away, but he can’t. He’s totally wrapped in blue light now.

  I can make him do anything.

  “Stop it! Please! I’ll do whatever you want!”

  I bear down, concentrate harder, and push the knife against his throat. I’m shaking. One more push and the blade will slice deep into his skin and cut his carotid artery.

  “Please! No!”

  “You don’t have any problem hitting girls. Why shouldn’t I cut you?”

  Tears roll down his face. There’s nothing he can do.

  He doesn’t deserve to live. He’s used dozens of girls.

  I close my eyes to give myself a moment to think, and a blast of white-hot pain sears my head.

  When I open my eyes, I’m no longer in the abandoned slaughterhouse facing the greasy-haired creep. The air smells fresh, the sun is bright, and my hands and legs cling to the side of a cliff.

  Sicheii climbs next to me.

  I’m little, and my arms and legs will only reach so far—probably no more than ten years old. Sicheii taught me how to rock climb when I turned ten.

  He s
miles at me, and the wind blows his long white hair.

  I glance above me and can’t see the top of the cliff. “How much farther to the top? I’m tired.” My voice sounds young, at least an octave higher than it is now.

  “Does the fish wonder when it will reach the river’s end, or does the hawk ask how high it might fly before it runs out of air?”

  Great, another riddle. “Why does it have to be so hard?”

  “The greater the destiny, the harder the journey. And your destiny is indeed great.”

  I climb the craggy rock face and reach for handholds and footholds, but they become more infrequent. I search and can’t see any more. “What now? The path is gone. How do I climb to the top?”

  His bushy eyebrows arch upward. “You’ll have to find your own way.”

  “What should I do with the sleezeball?”

  “What do you think you should do?”

  “He doesn’t deserve to live.”

  His voice sounds disappointed, as if I’ve forgotten an important lesson he taught me. “People can change. Every spirit can be redeemed. You can’t rob him of that chance. It’s not the way of our people.”

  “But you changed me! I’m not a member of the Tribe anymore. I’m a Chosen.”

  “You are my granddaughter. You will always be a member of the Tribe.” Sicheii’s eyes appear sad as he glances downward and into the ravine far below. He’s thinking about falling and leaving me.

  “Don’t go!”

  He shoots me a look he’s given me a million times. Love glistens in his eyes; pride and a little mischief fight for room also. It’s the same expression he had right before he died.

  “You will find your way.”

  “No!”

  He lets go of the cliff and falls backward with his arms at his side.

  “No!” I glance down, but he’s gone.

  A red-shouldered hawk shrieks and beats its wings. His spirit guide was a red-shouldered hawk.

  I don’t really believe in spirits or animal guides like Troy, but I follow the bird as it soars toward the sun. I guess I’ve sort of adopted his spirit animal.

  He’s left me again and the pain is as intense as it was when he died a week ago.

  The dream breaks, and I’m back in the abandoned slaughterhouse. Tears blur my vision and sting my eyes.

  The tip of the knife has broken Greasy Hair’s flesh. A trickle of blood drips down his neck and stains his T-shirt.

  My body shakes.

  Connor bashes a bottle against his head. The knife falls harmlessly off to the side, and the monster falls unconscious to the ground.

  The energy bands vanish.

  Connor shoots me an anxious look. “Are you okay?”

  Before I can answer, a whoosh roars from behind me. Flames cover the far wall and lurch toward us. A wave of intense heat blasts me in the face. One of the broken bottles must have had alcohol in it and accelerated the fire. In a few seconds the entire building will go up. We’ll be lucky to grab the girls and race down the back staircase in time.

  I look at Akari and she shrugs. “I can’t control it.”

  Fifty feet from us, Troy stands close to the fire—too close. The flames, fueled by garbage strewn in the middle of the floor, branch from the wall and cut in front of him, separating him from us.

  He’s trapped behind the flames.

  My head spins. The fire will engulf him in a few seconds. My heart sinks as if I’m in a free fall. I can’t get to him in time. Even if I do, how can I save him? Still, I have to try. Just as I’m about to race toward him, a strong wind gusts past me and beats back the flames.

  The wind turns into a gale and windows explode in showers of glass.

  The flames bend and then shrink until they’re completely blown out.

  I exhale.

  I gaze out the window and think about my dream with Sicheii. He used to tell me to study my daydreams to discover secret meanings hidden within them. He thought our ancestors communicate with us through dreams. I’ve never looked for messages in my dreams before, but he was in this dream. If anyone can reach me from beyond the grave and send me important messages, it’ll be him. However, even after I rewind the dream a half dozen times, I still don’t have a clue what he wants or what I should do next.

  Connor moves next to me and follows my eyes out the window. He doesn’t say anything; he lets me think for a moment, which I appreciate.

  After a few minutes of twisting and turning my daydream into knots, I give up, sigh, and turn toward him. “So why didn’t you let me kill that dirtbag?”

  He shoots me a half-grin, half-smirk that on most people would look annoying, but works on him. “I figured if you really wanted him dead you wouldn’t have hesitated. If you still want to kill him, I’ll drag the wanker over and we can pitch him from the window.” He looks down. “It might not be far enough to do the job, unless he goes head first.”

  I chuckle. “Head first would probably do it.” I take a deep breath. “So why did you stop me?”

  He reaches for my hand and his face turns serious. His eyes have real depth to them, and his touch singes my skin. “You can’t make a decision like that in the spur of the moment. It’ll haunt you. I know.” He sweeps a few loose hairs away from my forehead, and his fingers graze my cheek. He’s strong and gentle at the same time.

  “Have you ever had to kill someone?”

  That grin-smirk returns; he shrugs, runs his hands through his shaggy hair, turns, and walks over to Troy, who’s talking to the girls by the mattresses.

  Akari binds the hands and feet of the gang members with shoelaces. When she finishes, she yells “bakayaro,” grunts, and kicks each one in the stomach. I don’t know what it means, but I’m sure it’s not a compliment.

  I smile and glance at Blake, who leans against a wall with a faraway look on his face, so I amble over to him. “Hey, that was some neat work with the wind.”

  He doesn’t look up. He heard me because he nods his head, so I stand silently and wait. Silence is a great way to get people to talk. Most people can’t stand quiet stretches and will start to speak just to chase them away.

  After a few minutes, he smiles and turns toward me. “I can’t believe we did that. I can’t believe I did that.”

  This is the first time I’ve seen him smile. I don’t mean a grin or a forced smile on his face, but a genuine, wow-I’m-happy type of smile. It lights up his face and adds life to his thin features.

  “I’m not surprised. You’re Chosen for a reason.”

  He grins from ear to ear. “Come on, now. You’re not even a little surprised?”

  We both chuckle. “Well, a little, but you came up big when we needed it. That was awesome.”

  “To be honest, I didn’t know I had it in me. Well, I mean my parents have always been the heroic type—champion athletes, fearless. It’s all really annoying. I’ve always been a disappointment to them, afraid that I’d fail.” He sighs. “I wish they could have seen me. It might have made up for all those times when I finished last in track.”

  We’re molded by our experiences. The ones we live through when we’re young have more impact on us than those we experience later in life. Getting picked last for the soccer team when you’re five sticks with you. If it happens a few times, you no longer believe you can play sports. Overhear your parents talk about how disappointed they are in you when you’re six, and you lose all confidence in yourself.

  I know Blake battles his own demons. We all have them.

  I’m happy he’s overcome this one, at least for tonight, so I clap him on the back. “You don’t need to worry about finishing last anymore. You’re officially a badass.”

  Connor shuts off the radio and we gather by the girls who sit zombie-like on the mattresses. “You guys should go back to the Inn,” I say. “We’ll take care of the girls. Troy and I will call his cousin at New Beginnings. When they get here, we’ll make up a story.”

  “I don’t fancy leaving you alone befo
re your friends show up.” Connor crosses his arms against his chest.

  “I’m not alone. Troy’s with me and Akari has done a darn good job tying them up.”

  Two thugs toward the far wall start to stir, but their hands and feet are bound tight. They wiggle like fish on hooks, but all they can do is spout long strings of colorful curse words.

  “We can handle them.”

  “They’re not going anywhere. I used knots the fishermen back home taught me.” Akari grins.

  Connor glances at Troy and then at me. “All right. You two can clean up this mess without us then. Maybe we’ll find someone else to save on the way back to the Inn.”

  Connor, Blake, and Akari saunter down the staircase and out of sight.

  Troy grabs his phone, presses the speaker button, and dials Landon, who answers on the third ring, his voice gravely. “No, Troy, we haven’t found her yet. We’re about to call it a night.”

  “We did. She’s in an abandoned warehouse on 11th Avenue and 12th Street.”

  Landon’s voice jumps. “Don’t do anything until we get there! We’re only five minutes away.”

  “Too late,” says Troy.

  “What do you mean too late? These could be dangerous people we’re dealing with. You guys didn’t do something stupid, did you?”

  “It turns out they’re not as dangerous as you might think. Make sure you bring the van. Lilly isn’t alone. Two other girls are with her. We’re on the second floor, and use the door in the back that faces the river. The doorknob,” he looks at me and I shrug, “is missing.”

  The white NB van pulls up exactly five minutes later. Landon piles out of the vehicle with Frankie and Tara on his heels. Within seconds he bounds up the stairs and is the first to plow through the door.

  When he sees us, he slows and whistles. “What in the world happened here? This place looks like a war zone.”

  Tara rushes past us and over to the girls, while Frankie grins next to Landon. “You didn’t tell me Little Bear and Juliet were Special Forces.”

  “I didn’t know,” says Landon.