by R. D. Brady
In reply, the doors on both ends of the hall slid open and men in orange jumpsuits filed in. Cain frowned. These were not the Fallen from the facility. These were humans. What the hell was going on?
The wall behind Cain thudded to a stop right against the bars, leaving him no retreat that way. He looked warily at the men circling him. “Gentlemen, I assure you this is not a good idea.”
A few got their first look at his black eyes and stumbled back, but others took their place. One man darted forward and slammed his fist into Cain’s ribs. Pain tore through Cain, but it was nothing compared to what the man experienced. He let out an ear-shattering scream as his ribs snapped.
The men stopped encroaching on Cain, and those nearest him backed away, their eyes large.
Cain held his side. “Stay back or the same happens to you.”
The PA system blared to life. “Anyone who manages to land a punch will have their sentences commuted. None of you has a chance of seeing the outside world again any other way.”
Some of the men exchanged glances. Then one broke free from the group with a yell. Cain turned, but the man’s fist still collided with his face. The bones in the man’s face shattered, but his scream was lost in the scream of the next inmate, who punched Cain in the back. The kidney shot dropped Cain to his knees.
After that the hits came fast, each one punctuated by another scream. Soon the men had to pull other inmates out of the way to reach Cain; the bodies were piling up.
Cain curled up in a ball on the floor as blows rained down on him. After a while, the screams of agony surrounding him disappeared. Everything disappeared.
CHAPTER 31
The ground was awash in blood when Cain opened his eyes again. Well, eye—one was swollen shut, and the other throbbed. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this much pain. The curse meant injuries were not a large part of his life. One time a chariot had overturned, throwing him against a rock face. That had been the most pain he had ever experienced in his life.
Up until today.
A man in an orange jumpsuit lay staring at him, another man on his back. The man opened and closed his mouth like a beached fish, blood dripping from his nose. But no words came out—only wheezing breaths.
Two guards appeared and picked up the man on top of him. Cain shifted his gaze to watch them carry the man from the room. More guards were picking up other inmates. He could hear movement behind him; apparently they were gathering up the ones up on that side as well. But the thought of turning was too painful for Cain to try and look.
The man in front of him continued to gurgle; his eyes were filled with pain. Cain felt pity for him. Stupid pawn.
Two guards rolled the man onto his back. The whole man’s body shuddered as they picked him up. He was the last one on this side. Now all Cain could see was blood splashed across the floor and the walls.
They had sacrificed these men to hurt him, knowing what would happen to them. And they say I’m the evil one.
The door opened again and two men walked in, each pushing a mop in a bucket. Without a word or even a glance at Cain, they began to mop the floor. Cain watched them for a while. Their movements, slow and deliberate, almost put him in a trance. He felt his lids close.
A door slammed behind him, and Cain’s eyes flew open. The floor in front of him was clean, and the men with the buckets were gone. He shifted and sucked in a breath with a hiss. His shoulder was dislocated, his ribs broken. He’d be shocked if he didn’t have internal bleeding. Footsteps approached him from behind, but he made no effort to turn. He wasn’t sure he would be able to even if he tried.
Dress shoes came into view, along with the bottom of a pair of black pants.
“Tsk, tsk. You are not looking good.”
Cain moved only his one good eye to get a look at the man, but even that was painful. Unbidden, a moan escaped his lips.
The man squatted down, and Cain could finally see his face. His identity held no surprise. Seward. When Cain had first seen him, Seward struck him as a man who needed to prove his worth. A man’s man, in the worst possible sense.
“So. It appears you can be hurt,” Seward said.
Cain said nothing, partly because he wasn’t sure his jaw would work.
Seward looked around. “They cleaned the place up well. You would never know anything happened here.” He returned his attention to Cain with a laugh. “Well, of course, except for you. You thought I couldn’t get to you. I think you’ve learned just how good I am at my job. I will always get to you. Don’t forget that.”
Seward dropped a stack of white towels on the floor, out of Cain’s reach, along with a small, clear plastic bag. Cain could make out Band-Aids, gauze, and some antiseptic wipes. “I’d send some people in to help you, but I’m pretty sure they’d just get hurt. So here’s some supplies. Feel free to help yourself.”
Seward stood, then spit. His aim proved true; the spit landed on Cain’s cheek. “You make me sick.” He turned and headed for the door.
Cain could feel the spit on his cheek. He didn’t even have the energy to wipe it off. He stared at the supplies, but there was no chance he could reach them. They might as well have been on the moon.
The darkness pulled at him. He closed his eyes, trying to work up some anger, but he couldn’t. All he felt was pain—pain, and the absolute certainty that he was alone in this world.
Again.
CHAPTER 32
Jake paced along the windows of Henry’s office. For the last twenty-four hours, they’d been trying to track down the site where the SIA inmates had been taken. Matt had called an hour ago to tell them he had news, although he hadn’t gone into any detail—with the surveillance on them, it wasn’t safe to say much over the phone. So they had to wait until he arrived.
Jake turned at a knock on the office door. Finally.
“Come in,” Henry said.
Mustafa and Matt strode in. Jake waved them over to the conference table.
“Okay, what did you find out?” Jake asked.
“Nice to see you too, Jake,” Matt said dryly.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s a pleasure. What did you find out?”
“My source was able to find out where they’re being held. It’s a former black site in Ohio. It hasn’t been used since the end of the Cold War.”
“Okay. Good. That’s something. What’re the chances of getting in to see Cain?”
Mustafa and Matt exchanged a glance. “Not good,” Matt said. “The inmates have been tortured.”
“For information?” Henry asked.
“No—for control. But Cain, he received the worst of it.”
Mustafa nodded to the tablet on the table. “With your permission.”
“Please,” Henry said.
Mustafa picked up the tablet. “We had some people look into the site. We got the schematics, and we also managed to get a feed from inside the facility. It—it’s not easy to watch.”
Jake focused on the screen, his muscles tense. Now what?
On screen, a hallway with maybe two dozen cells came into view. A cell door slid open, and Cain stepped out. A moment later, the doors at either end of the hall opened, and a bunch of men in orange jumpsuits stepped through. Oh no.
Jake watched in horror as man after man attacked Cain. Each man fell to the floor after attacking, his own injuries so much greater than what he had doled out to Cain, but they kept on coming. After the last man took his shot and dropped, Mustafa froze the frame. Cain lay on the floor with bodies piled around him.
“They sacrificed those men,” Henry said.
“Yes,” Matt said. “We ran facial recognition, and we know two of them are from Colorado—ADX Florence. I’m guessing the others are as well.”
“Jesus,” Jake said, his anger growing. ADX Florence was nicknamed the Alcatraz of the Rockies. Supermax prisons were designed for the worst of the worst. The inmates spent twenty-three hours a day alone, in cells a mere seven feet by twelve. And even when out of their ce
lls, they were always restrained. It was a living hell, and a tightly controlled environment. Which meant—
“The US government approved this?”
“I don’t think this was approved, exactly. But the ETF has a lot of pull. I think this was Seward establishing who’s in charge.”
“It actually gets worse,” Mustafa said quietly. He fast-forwarded the recording. Jake watched as the men in orange were taken from the room. Then two men came in to clean up. And all the while, Cain lay broken on the floor. Finally Seward walked in, dropped a bag, and left.
The video continued to fast-forward, but Cain didn’t move.
“It’s been two hours now,” Mustafa said.
“Bastards,” Henry muttered.
“What do we know about Cain’s healing ability?” Jake asked, his eyes not leaving the screen. He didn’t have the relationship with the man that Laney or Patrick had. But no one deserved to be treated like that.
“It’s hard to say. He’s rarely injured. But he doesn’t seem to heal any faster than a human,” Matt said.
“They’re going to kill him,” Mustafa said. “If he doesn’t receive medical treatment, he will die.”
“He’s not immortal?” Jake asked.
“Apparently not,” Matt said. “You said when you called earlier that finding Cain was the priority. Did you know about this?”
“No,” Jake said. “We had no idea they would treat the inmates like this. We were looking for Cain for a different reason.” He quickly explained about the tome of the Great Mother.
By the time he was done, Matt was shaking his head. “They won’t let us in,” Matt said. “And without medical intervention, I don’t think Cain will survive the night.”
“How heavily guarded is the site?”
Matt’s eyebrows rose. “Heavily. There are a dozen guards, all armed to the teeth. There’s only one way in, and one way out.”
“You don’t think we should actually break Cain out, do you?” Henry asked.
Jake pictured the McAdams family, the devastation on their faces. He didn’t want to have to tell them that he hadn’t done everything he could to save their daughter. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
CHAPTER 33
Cain wasn’t sure how long he had been lying on the cold floor. He dropped in and out of consciousness. Everything hurt. His mouth, his ears, his legs, even his teeth. He closed his eyes as another pain pierced him.
They were not going to help. They were going to leave him here. Maybe even let him die.
He breathed shallowly; his chest ached. He forced his eyes open and saw the medical supplies still lying where Seward had dropped them. He thought about just closing his eyes again and letting the darkness take him. Maybe he would finally die. All his long life, he’d secretly had a death wish. A wish not only for death, but for the oblivion that came with it. Maybe for him it could be a reset. A blessing.
But…
He pictured Delaney, Patrick, and Victoria. His mind stayed on Victoria. She lived life after life. She embraced life even knowing the pain that would come. The pain of losing those she loved, and the pain of her inevitable death—because most of her deaths were not peaceful. But he had never known her to give up. She had faced it all time and time again.
And she was somewhere out there right now, a child innocent of the future that lay ahead of her.
One day, she would remember it all.
Cain wanted to be there for that day. He wanted to look into her eyes and feel the bond. She was the one person who understood his pain, his loneliness. Who had experienced it as well.
He closed his eyes, trying to steel himself against the pain to come. He opened them and inched forward, a whimper escaping his lips as his broken ribs shifted with the movement. Pain pierced him, overwhelmed him. His vision darkened.
When his eyes flew open again, he knew he had passed out. The supplies were still out of reach. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. One slipped down his cheek, and he didn’t have the ability to wipe it away.
Move, Cain. Move. The voice in his mind was not his own. He knew it wasn’t hers either. His mind was playing tricks on him.
Victoria appeared behind the supplies. She knelt down, her violet eyes staring at him. “You need to move, Cain. You need to help yourself.”
“I can’t.”
“You can. And I need you to help my daughter. For me, Cain. Move for me.”
He looked into her eyes and wanted nothing more than to let go. But her eyes would not look away from him.
Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself forward, panting, whimpering. Slowly he made his way forward. And then, just when he thought he couldn’t move another inch, his hand touched the bag. He wanted to weep.
He felt a hand run through his hair. “You did well.” Victoria placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.
Cain curled the bag toward him. Thank you.
CHAPTER 34
BALTIMORE, MARYLAND
Henry stopped pacing along the windows in his office. “Are we really going to do this?”
Jake sighed. “Look, I get it. We’re breaking all sorts of rules here.”
“Not rules, Jake. Laws.”
“Yes, laws. But Henry, look at what they did. They raked Laney over the coals, calling her everything including the goddamn antichrist. They raked the SIA over the coals, claiming they were unconstitutional in their process. And look what they did to Cain. I don’t like Cain, but no one, not even he, deserves to be treated like that. This is the United States of America. We are better than this.”
“We need to give Matt’s idea a chance,” Henry said. “Some more time.”
Jake shook his head. Matt was pleading with his source to intervene, but none of them thought he would be successful.
“If we do this and we’re found out, we’ll lose everything,” Henry said.
Jake nodded. “I know. But unless Matt can manage to talk some sense into his contact, what choice do we have? We have no leads on where the kids are, no way of finding them. Cain offers us a chance to find out what the Fallen are looking for.”
“Is that the only reason?”
Jake shook his head. “He’s going to die. Laney asked Patrick to look out for him. If Cain dies, it’ll kill Patrick. And goddamn it, it’s the right thing to do. We cannot leave him there.”
“What about the Fallen that are locked up there?”
“They’re not in immediate danger. We’ll take the ETF down eventually. But until then, we need to get Cain out.”
Henry’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen before answering it. “Matt?” He paused, nodding his head as he listened. “Okay. I’ll tell them.” He disconnected the call.
“Well?”
“His contact won’t be able to get anything done in time.”
“So we’re gong.”
“We’re going.”
CHAPTER 35
LOWELL, OHIO
Cain heard muffled noises in the background, but he couldn’t work up the energy to look, or even to care. He knew he was going to die. After all this time, he was finally at the end of his long life. For years, centuries even, he had longed for this day. The day when he could finally be free.
And yet now that the moment was here, he found himself doing something he’d sworn he would never do. He found himself praying. Please don’t take me. Not yet.
Part of him rebelled at the thought, his aching body begging for release. But then he pictured Patrick and Laney. For the first time in God knew how long, he had people who actually cared about him. He had no hope that he would land in some sort of promised land, not with the life he had led. And the idea of living just a little longer with people who cared about him… that was water to a thirsty man.
At the same time, his practical side mocked him. Even if someone out there cared about him, no one was going to come for him. Not where he was. This was where people went to die. Anyone who set foot in this facility was risking his own life. An
d no one would risk their life for him.
But if the positions were reversed, if it were Laney or Patrick, he would risk it for them. He would risk it even if they asked him to help someone else. He wanted a chance to prove that. He realized, to his surprise, that he wanted a chance to be redeemed.
A door slammed. He wanted to open his eyes, but it was no use. The darkness was pushing closer. Goodbye, Patrick. Goodbye, Laney. Thank you for being my friends.
CHAPTER 36
Jake swept the hall, but there was no one there save for the man lying in a pool of his own blood. He hardened himself against the sight, even as it tugged at him. How could they have treated someone this way?
Five of his men entered behind him; all of them, like Jake, were covered in black from head to toe. He’d forced Henry to stay outside—with his height, he would have been too easily identified. They had taken out all of the guards in the facility. It had been surprisingly easy. But then again, the ETF still didn’t truly understand what the Fallen and nephilim were capable of. And Jake had a dozen men on his team.
Jake nodded to Hanz, who stepped up next to him. “Sir?”
“Take him. But carefully.”
Hanz had volunteered earlier to carry Cain out, even knowing that any injury he inflicted, though unintentional, might blow back on him sevenfold. He had been Cain’s guard while he’d been in the SIA facility. According to Matt, Hanz did not socialize very often; he seemed to prefer the company of his dog to that of humans. Somehow Cain had been aware of that, and he had made a point of turning on dog shows whenever Hanz was around. Soon the two of them would watch together, one in the cell and one outside, although they rarely spoke.
Now Hanz slung his weapon over his shoulder and knelt down next to the damaged immortal. Carefully, he rolled him over. Then he placed one hand under his neck, the other under his legs, and stood.
“Okay?” Jake asked.