Obsidian: Birth to Venus (The Obsidian Chronicles Book 1)

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Obsidian: Birth to Venus (The Obsidian Chronicles Book 1) Page 13

by Marisa Victus


  “It’s a clusterfuck,” Sean said. “It’s the first time a sentient’s been seen restraining a person, and siphoning their energy in a violent way. It’s on camera, for everyone to see.”

  “And, the public's clearly lost it," Jai said.

  Diana rescanned the video, watching it pane by pane. “We all know there have been small resentments, past jealousies. It’s no secret some humans feel inferior. But, let’s remember: some humans welcome us. We still work with them. They’re our neighbors. How can that be undone with just one video, one incident? They know we're upstanding citizens. We contribute to and are a part of their communities.”

  “It helped that we looked like them,” Avena said, point-blank.

  “It certainly did," Sean echoed. "But, now that this video’s out, Borda's right. Everything’s changed. Now, they have a poster boy for the ‘evil’ us. Suddenly, sentients are inherently dangerous, something that needs to be caged and controlled. It's clear from the scale of this riot that it's unleashed a lot of fear. This fear’s been brewing for years.” Sean stared back at the screen. “For once, there’s a legitimate — and documented — reason for them to be afraid."

  Chapter 21

  2121

  At 8 a.m., Jai woke up, laying on the couch in the study. She ran her hands along its soft, worn leather, and stretched out her arms and legs. Sitting up, she could hear whispering past the French doors.

  “It’s exactly the same. Zoom in closer,” Sean said.

  “Still need to enhance the resolution,” Diana said, sitting at the kitchen island. She twisted the computer cuffs, the bracelets on her wrists, and widened the screen projected above them. She amplified the video and zoomed in. “There. There it is. It is the same.”

  Sean had a worried look on his face. “Pull up the folder.”

  Diana rummaged through a virtual filing cabinet, and found the folder Sean was looking for. She flung her arms wide, as if opening a hardcopy. A neat stack of documents appeared in front of her. She moved her hands delicately from side to side, parsing through each virtual page.

  “There. That’s it,” Mach said, hovering over her.

  Diana tapped gently on the page, and clicked the image there. It showed a lanky teen, huddled on the floor, a broken chair flung against the wall beside him. The teenager’s eyes were black and blue, his face sunken, with blood smeared across his face. Nearby, an older couple, presumably his parents, were clustered together. The man’s right arm was wrapped around his wife’s shoulders. He held his left hand up, attempting to shield them from harm. Masked figures stood above, with guns aimed at their terrified faces. With her thumb and index fingers, Diana signed two Ls as if she were framing a shot, then pulled her hands apart, causing the image to zoom in, to the shooter closest to the couple.

  “Go in close, to the gun. No, there, to the wrist,” Avena said. The wrist was dainty, as if a woman’s. It bore a silver marking. It looked like a blade. It curved upward, cupping the top of her wrist, with a line straight across the bottom, almost like a bracelet. The image was fuzzy and the lighting left much to be desired. Avena zoomed in further, examining it closely. “It’s silver, iridescent…but, it’s no bracelet. It’s tattooed with some weird ink.” The tattoo sparkled on the woman’s wrist. It looked like a blade, cutting her hand off.

  “Now, go to last night’s video, at Club O,” Sean said, and they all leaned back, watching as Diana reopened it. Panning quickly, she reached the last few minutes of footage, when the camera zoomed in, close to the victim’s face. Just a moment before the camera steadied, a hand flashed on the screen. She froze the pane. The same tattooed blade was there, in clear view.

  “Shit. We have to tell him,” Mach said, running his hands through his black hair.

  “Tell who what?” Jai asked, as she walked in for a closer look. She scanned the room. “Where’s Borda?”

  “Jai, morning.” Sean said, pulling her close. “Borda left to check on the club. He’ll be back soon.”

  “I see. So, what’s up?” Jai watched as everyone’s eyes darted around the room. No one said a thing. “Guys?”

  Sean turned toward the screen. “We’ve been watching the footage again. It’s too soon to tell for sure, but there appears to be a connection to Borda.”

  “What?” Jai found it hard to believe Borda could be involved in any way.

  “No, Borda doesn’t know the sentient from Club O,” Sean assured her. “But, he has a connection. See, I met Borda through my work. His parents were diplomats, working at the Embassy. The Embassy hired the Division to install security cameras at Borda’s residence. Borda was just a teen at the time. Soon after he tested sentient positive, someone came after his parents. We didn’t draw the connection until after he traipsed into the club, getting into all sorts of trouble. He was searching for the people who’d murdered his parents. It took two seconds to find out he was out searching for a hired gun. He was a newbie then, had barely stepped foot into the sentient life. But, he was smart enough to know it’s easier for a sentient to get away with murder than a human.”

  Diana laughed. “And, leave it to him to see if I’d do it.”

  Mach joined her in chuckling. “You have to appreciate Borda’s thinking. The less obvious the assailant, the better.”

  “That’s true,” Jai agreed. Diana looked far more like a baroness than La Femme Nikita.

  “I’m just glad he had the presence of mind to not try it himself,” Avena said, rolling her eyes. “He was barely functional. Wasted and reeling from his parents’ death. He couldn’t forgive himself. It was especially hard on him, healing just seconds after that woman shot him in the chest. Anyone else would’ve been dead from the bleed-out. It went straight through him. He was able to heal…just not fast enough. The woman shot his parents and they died just a few moments before he came-to. He still can’t forgive himself, for not saving them.”

  “It’s how an Ivy Leaguer goes completely AWOL,” Mach said. Jai looked up, surprised. “Yea,” he nodded. “I am talking about the same guy. Borda used to be so straight-laced. You should see the photos. Borda was a yuppie. Things changed real quick after their murder. Nothing could stop him from going after the killers. And, once he got wind that Sean wasn’t just a club owner, he was relentless.”

  Sean agreed. “We became concerned he’d go after the wrong people. Apparently, the perps disguised themselves as a delivery service. His parents were expecting a new china cabinet. That’s how the perps were able to enter the home.”

  Avena sighed. “Borda actually opened the door to let them in.”

  Jai was shocked. It didn’t take a degree to realize how much that would pain him. It would drive anyone mad. “So, Borda caught them, murdered them?” Jai asked.

  “He didn’t get the chance,” Avena answered. “Their bodies were discovered by the riverbank. Well, everything but their teeth and their arms, from the elbow down. Someone didn’t want them to be identified.” Jai couldn’t believe it. It was something straight out of CSI. Not something she ever expected to hear in relation to Borda, no matter how brusque he might be. “The police chalked it up to a drug deal gone bad. The area was well known for mob activity, and nothing came of it. It wasn’t the justice Borda had hoped for, but there was no reason to question the perps’ deaths at the time. None of us did. That no longer applies, though.” Avena motioned for Jai to look at the tattooed blades displayed on the screen. “Look. Do you see the resemblance?”

  “They’re the same.”

  “Exactly. Sean realized it last night. Borda’s shooter has precisely the same tat as the videotaper from last night, at Club O.”

  “It’s an odd tat, too. Check out that ink,” Jai said, leaning in closer.

  “It shimmers, and not like the standard sparkly ink that’s in vogue,” Diana said.

  “Plus, check out the design,” Sean said. “It’s unlike any prison or gang symbol I’ve ever seen. It’s not Aryan, either.”

  “It demands furthe
r investigation,” Mach said. “In the meantime, Jai, please don’t mention anything to Borda.”

  “Yea, please don’t,” Sean emphasized.

  Avena explained. “We’re coming up on the anniversary of his parents’ murder. It’s always particularly hard on him. Even after the assailant’s bodies were found, he got hooked on a mess of drugs. It took him over a year to get clean. Knowing that there’s a loose end out there could send him straight back. Telling him now would be a mistake. Especially when we don’t know if it’s really a loose end or not. Maybe it’s just a coincidence. I doubt it, but I don’t want to know what he’ll do if that chapter in his life’s not really over.”

  “I understand. I won’t say anything,” Jai agreed.

  Sean sighed. “Jai, the four of us are heading back to my place. We’ll have access to my systems there.” Jai nodded and they began packing their things. “Let’s go,” Sean said. “Let’s identify the director of last night’s opus.”

  Chapter 22

  2121

  Jai wanted to help the rest of the group investigate the Club O incident, but Joy’s condition had worsened. So, Jai stayed by her mother's side and took Joy away, to their beach house overlooking the Long Island Sound. There, they watched the news, thankful that none of their family had been harmed during the riots. Each night, Jai waited until Joy nodded off, then returned to her room. She tried her best not to close her eyes, to avoid the nightmares she’d had each fretful night, but she couldn’t fight the exhaustion forever. She tried in vain to think hopeful thoughts, but there was no way to remove the splinter in her mind.

  Then, somewhere in the dark of night, she fell asleep. She saw him there, Darin running across the path, toward the rice paddies. The sun streaked down on them. He turned, a mischievous grin on his face. “Slow poke!” he screamed, egging Jai to run and catch him.

  Jai feigned a sprint. But, as she took the next few strides, the distance between them jumped into a wide expanse. She ran faster, but her legs, normally so strong, would not carry her, as if she were running on a treadmill, looping endlessly backward.

  Darin giggled in the distance, his voice jingling like the bell on the bracelet Jai had given him. “You won’t catch me! I’m flying away!” he said. He threw his arms out, like helicopter wings. He began to fly, swooping left and right along the fields. Night was falling now with the sound of crickets and cicadas beginning to build. “Too late, slow poke!” He sang it like a nursery rhyme. Soon, his voice was muffled by the roaring insects, invisible in the dark.

  Jai strained to run faster, but each step sank her feet further into the ground. She looked down at the grass, like the grass she'd admired all those summers long ago. Each blade of grass moved elegantly, like a dancer’s arms, caressing her legs. Then, suddenly, they turned, sharp edges twisting, binding, dragging her down. Like quicksand, they pulled her under, into muddy water. She was sinking into the earth, waist-deep, to her shoulders. Mud thick around her, she could taste the brackish water on her lower lip.

  Her eyes darted, scanning the fields. Where’s Darin? She could hear the chime on his bracelet ringing, a periodic ding in the far distance. Her eyes strained to see under the night sky, but the stars were barely twinkling. The moon was just a slit. The water churned. It was a thick black sludge sticking to her jaw. She pulled her chin up, straining to keep the sludge out of her mouth, but it moved like a tentacled slug, oozing, reaching slowly up her neck. It pulled itself upward. Its arms were on her lips. She clamped her mouth shut, moaning, straining to keep the sludge from her nostrils. Its pace had quickened. It climbed faster, toward her ears.

  There was no singing now; none of Darin’s laughter; not even the tiny ding of his bell. Just the blare of her heartbeat, pounding in her chest. She was hyperventilating. Her body heaved, pushing against the blackness, the sludge eating her alive, when suddenly she was free. Sitting alone, on a bench in a clearing.

  Her breath began to slow. She looked around to gain her bearings. It was dark, but she recognized the bench. Atop the right wooden arm, was a small carving, a bird she and Darin had etched their last summer there. “My little coo coo,” she had called him, or “crazy bird,” depending on her mood. The day after she’d given him the tulip, he had asked her to take him there, to the place where she’d found them. He was amazed by how many there were…how beautiful and different the Siams were from the tulips he’d seen before. Remembering, she felt the life in him, could feel the blood coursing through his rosy cheeks. She cried, picturing how he’d looked up at her, an oversized bouquet of tulips in his pudgy little hands.

  Suddenly, Darin was in front of her, nudging the flowers toward her, looking deep into her eyes. She embraced him, gave him the long hug she’d been yearning for. She wanted so deeply to see him, to play with him. The feeling of pure happiness overwhelmed her. The dark sky began to lighten, a pale grey to light blue. Past the mountains, the sun’s rays shone behind the distant clouds, coating the world in subtle pinks and creamy peach hues. Darin pressed his body against hers. “Up!” he said, beckoning her to carry him. She picked him up, his body light in her arms. He wrapped his legs around her waist, and placed his arms around her neck. He nestled close, massaging his cheek against hers. She smelled his sweet scent and felt his sticky fingers on her upper back, as if he’d just eaten a sugary treat.

  Holding him, she relaxed, wanting to remember this feeling, this second skin wrapped around hers. She wanted to walk him around the gardens this way, the way they’d walked before. He clung to her, the way he used to do. But, her steps were awkward, disjointed. She lost her balance a few times. She caught herself, gripping him tightly, not wanting him to fall. She tried to distract him. “Look, Darin! Tiny frogs. Aren’t they cute?” He marveled at their slick green skin and watched them hop away into the tall grass.

  Jai hobbled along. She pointed to a flock of birds flying in the distance, not wanting to draw his attention behind, where a pool of sludge had formed. She walked faster, as fast as her now crippled gait would carry them. She hoisted him around, to hold him piggy back, face-forward. Her eyes darted, searching for a shortcut, for the exit.

  “Jai, let’s go see Mom.” Darin’s breath was warm against her ear.

  “Yes, let’s go home. Mom will meet us there.”

  “We can show her the tulips,” Darin said, his face bright and happy.

  “We will," Jai assured as she snuck a glimpse behind her. The sludge was gaining on them, reaching its tar-like tentacles along the ground. The sludge had eaten the grass, and was climbing up the tulip stems. With increasing speed, it swallowed the flowers. The benches and lampposts posed no hurdle. The more it swallowed, the more formidable it became. It was barrelling down, faster on them.

  Jai could feel sweat falling from her hair, streaming down her forehead. She bounced Darin against her back and pulled his legs under her arms for a tighter grip. “Hold on to me!” she yelled. She could hear the fear in her voice, and feel her throat tighten. She strained to hide the exertion growing in her body. There! Jai saw the gate a short distance away. Closer, faster! But, her legs were a cobbled clutter. She looked down. Her strong, beautiful legs were a haphazard mess, knees and ankles mixed with oddly deformed feet; and, an abnormally long femur jutting out from her left hip, throwing her off balance. Each part seemed to work against itself, churning with motion, yet somehow stuck in place. The sludge was seeping up against her toes, climbing to her waist.

  Darin’s heart began to pound against her back. “Look, look at me,” Jai cried, urging him to focus on her.

  “What’s wrong?” Darin asked. He nuzzled close against her cheek.

  “Look at me, Darin,” she said. “Let’s go home. We’re going home.”

  “Mom’s home!” Darin squealed with delight. He trusted Jai, not noticing that they’d nearly stopped. She could feel the sludge coat her skin. It was seeping inward, filling her veins. Soon, it had passed her, and was beginning to touch Darin’s feet. Darin caught his
breath at the first touch, the first sear against his skin. “Jai?” He looked at her, a puzzled then pained expression on his face. “What’s going on? Aren’t we going home? It hurts,” he whined, trying to contort his body into a more comfortable position.

  “It’s ok. We’re ok,” she panted. “Just look at me,” she said. Jai tried not to cry, to hide the excruciating pain she now felt, but seeing the sludge eat at him was more than she could take. Tears streamed down her face.

  “Jai, help me!” Darin was afraid, crying now, sobbing with the pain of it. The sludge had climbed farther up his legs. She tried to caress him, her hands still tight against his body, but she could barely move.

  The pale pink sky had darkened with each passing minute. The sun was engulfed in a fiery red, a bloody mark in the blackening sky. “Save us!” Darin screamed. Cold wind blew, fierce against their skin. Jai could feel his arms shiver, knocking against her, in their black cocoon of sludge. “Save us!” He screamed. “Why won’t you save us, Jai?” For the first time, he looked back, to the sludge climbing both their bodies. “Run, run!” he pleaded.

  Jai couldn’t bear it. “I can’t. I’m sorry!” she yelled with tears running down her face.

  The sludge was swallowing them with a hundred gaping mouths. “Save me, Jai. It hurts!” And, with a piercing scream, he yelled, “Mommy!” At once, Joy appeared at the edge of the garden. Young, as young as the day Darin was born, she smiled. But, as she walked toward them, her lustrous hair began to fade; her luminous skin took on a pallid hue; and, the strength in her body disappeared. Jai watched, as her young mother aged to the mom she now knew. The sludge swarmed.

 

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