Balance - Book 2

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Balance - Book 2 Page 29

by Marc Dickason


  *****

  I was shuttled to a nearby Department of Magic. The driver, a young Enforcer whose face glistened with nervous sweat, never said a word, even as he tore up city roads and dodged between traffic.

  The explosion had occurred an hour ago. But panic was completely absent from the city. This despite the fact I knew Judy to be stalking the streets. Clearly, I thought, the highly decorated no-nonsense Enforcer on the news had omitted details about further explosions.

  But there was something noticeable about the city beyond the car window. Not a panic, but a silent expectation. I could feel an energy building and expanding in the atmosphere, like the audience of a live performance aware that show-time was drawing near. There was a brief moment where I could have sworn the sensation seemed somehow unnatural, but shrugged it off. I focused instead on controlling butterflies that gathered in my stomach.

  Upon arriving at the D.O.M and stepping from the car a female Enforcer approached at speed.

  “Clarence?”

  “Yes.”

  “Follow me. Quickly, please.”

  She led the way into the building, through rooms and halls bustling with feverish activity, and into the Preparation Hall at the department’s rear. Here, in contrast, the confused ambience was replaced by one of sombre preparation. Male and female Enforcers stood in rows that stretched from one end of an immense hall to the other; waiting.

  I followed the woman, passing up the ranks of bodies. Countless faces turned to watch me.

  “Good luck, Clarence,” an unknown female Enforcer said to me.

  I nodded and kept moving. We crossed the hall to a set of double doors.

  Behind the doors stood a smaller area occupied by a handful of Senior Enforcers, one of them Chief Commander Gill. All eyes were currently turned to a television. I stepped into the room and followed their line of sight. The screen showed a helicopter’s point of view of a city street, and stumbling her confused way as an action-figure sized object was Judy. The white medical robe fluttered from her skeletal body like a cape. Nearby civilians were watching her, mutely, ignoring whatever words she was yelling in their direction.

  “What’s she saying to them?” one of the Enforcers asked.

  “I think she’s asking for help,” I spoke up.

  Commander Gill looked round.

  “And Clarence makes six,” he said, “Join the rest.”

  I moved to stand alongside the others. Their expressions said my arrival had been anticipated.

  “She seems to be headed somewhere definite,” Gill continued, ‘judging by her bearing. She’s taken specific roads, made turns, always heading in one direction to the outskirts of the city.”

  “Do we have any idea where, sir?” I asked.

  “No,” Gill said, “but it’s not of particular importance. That we stop her before she loses control again is our only concern.”

  “Do we have military support, sir?” another Enforcer asked.

  “Yes,” Gill replied, “they’re moving on her as we speak. But there is public attention on government interaction with magic users at the moment, as I’m sure you’re all aware, and hence huge pressure on us demanding we put her down in a non-lethal fashion.”

  A restrained groan rose up.

  “Sir,” an Enforcer said in exasperation, “Am I right that this girl is Class 4? We can’t possibly risk close quarters. We need a Heavy…”

  “I realise the situation,” Gill cut him off, “and I’m aware of the risks. Getting an outside Heavy that can deal with her potential level of destruction would take hours, the nearest being halfway across the country. And frankly I couldn’t be damned dealing with the red tape and bullshit anyway. That’s where Clarence comes in, ladies and gentleman. Meet our very own Heavy.”

  Heads turned in my direction. One Enforcer glanced at my breast.

  “He’s a Cadet?”

  “Yes, he’s a Cadet,” Gill boomed, “And also happens to have the highest Spirit Level I have ever come across, more then twice the next highest in this room. This Cadet was at ground zero when the initial blast occurred, standing not five feet from the girl. He shrugged it off and got right back on duty. What do you think about that, Enforcers?”

  There were murmurs of disbelief.

  “But that means he’s…”

  “Correct. He is Class 5. A fact that makes him the most valuable person on the team. He alone can safely get close enough to take that girl down in a non-lethal fashion. The rest of you are only to provide backup and step in if he fails. Is that understood?”

  The Enforcers nodded. My stomach suddenly resembled a raisin.

  “Sir…” I stammered, “Commander Gill...”

  “You’re taking her out, Clarence,’ he repeated, “The non-lethal way; by Manipulation. Your file says you’re more then competent in Manipulation and Influence. Is this correct, Cadet?”

  “Yes, sir, but…”

  “No better way to get experience, Clarence. And relax, we’re sending you in with the finest Senior Enforcers this town has to offer.” He turned to the other men. “Isn’t that right, Enforcers?”

  They agreed in disorientated mutters.

  “I said isn’t that right, Enforcers!”

  “Yes, sir!” the response was cracked off.

  Minutes later a convoy of black vans were swarming into the city, heading for the zone currently occupied by Judy Carlson. In the back of my own windowless black van, perched on the sitting rail attempting to ignore the jerking movement, I felt tension mounting like a living thing. My brain was catching up to what I had agreed to do.

  “Get Clarence to the girl,” Gill yelled above the engine’s roar. He stood in front of the back doors, gripping a ceiling strap and swaying with the motion. “Do not approach her aggressively, do not attack her, do not yell at her, and do not do anything that might set her off! Do you all understand that?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Keep a safe distance, and when the time is right, when she looks approachable, Clarence will go in and disable her. You understand me, Clarence?”

  I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “You do whatever you need to do, Clarence. You scramble her brain, make her think she’s a fish if you need to, but make sure she is incapable of going hot.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “If this time does not present itself, if the girl appears to be losing control or becoming violent, then we are going with plan B and she goes down with aggressive force. Everyone gets involved and does whatever it takes; but you will all be putting her down with non-lethal force. If the girl looks like she is going hot, and God help us if she does, she will be put down for good. This will not be our job; this will be handled by the blessed military of this city. They are currently already on the scene.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Get ready. We are being dropped a block from her position. The streets have been cleared of civilians but, be warned, there was not time to clear the buildings. I repeat; there are civilians in the surrounding buildings. You watch what you do when flinging your Spirit around.”

  The van slowed and exterior sounds enveloped the vehicle; the excited chattering of civilians, orders being barked between military personal, a distant warbling siren. There was a jerk and the van stopped.

  “Alright,” Gill said, “let’s get moving Enforcers. Stick to me, Clarence, do what I say, when I say it.”

  The van doors swung open and we filed out onto a four lane street stretching off into the commercial heart of the city. Swanky coffee shops and overpriced clothing stores flanked either side, while behind, held at bay by a military blockade, a throng of civilians craned their necks.

  More vans pulled up alongside ours, releasing Enforcers who scurried about to complete unknown orders. Some joined the blockade while others disappeared up side roads.

  Seconds later a giant of a man dressed in military body armour approached, an automatic weapon slung over his shoulder. He addressed Gill with a sa
lute which was promptly returned.

  “Chief Commander Gill.”

  “Sergeant.’

  “The girl is two blocks ahead. Our forward teams say she’s been persisting up this road for the last half hour without sign of stopping.”

  “Has she been aggressive at all? Agitated?”

  “No, Commander. Other than muttering to herself she seems stable.”

  “Good. Keep your eyes on her and keep us updated.”

  “Will do, Commander.” He handed over a radio. “Your plan of action?”

  “My Heavy will attempt to disable her, non-lethally.”

  The Sergeants eyes flicked from face to face. “Someone new? Out of town?”

  “Clarence,” Gill said, jerking his thumb at me, “Cadet.”

  “Cadet?”

  “Class 5.”

  “I see.” The Sergeant’s voice adopted an official tone. “Be advised, Commander Gill, if your team fails this will become a military operation.”

  “I’m aware, Sergeant.”

  The large man nodded and spoke into his radio. “Enforcers en route. Repeat; Enforcers are en route. Keep your eyes peeled and report to Chief Commander Gill, soldiers.”

  The radio in Gill’s hand crackled into life.

  “Lookout reporting, Commander Gill. The target is still advancing up Fifth at a slow pace. She hasn’t done a thing other, sir. Looks completely out of it. I’m surprised she’s still standing.”

  A thought occurred to me. “Commander Gill. The girl’s demon is a horse. A black one. It seemed to trigger her meltdown.”

  He nodded. “Have you seen a horse, soldier?” he said into the radio.

  “A what, Commander?”

  “A horse. Black. Have you seen one?”

  There was a pause. “Uh, no sir, we have not seen a horse. Black or otherwise.”

  “Alright. We’re moving, lookout. Eyes peeled.” He turned to me and the other five Enforcers. “Let’s move.”

  We turned and jogged up the road, sticking to the sidewalk and letting the chatter of the barricade fall behind. The deeper we advanced, the more a feeling of jarring emptiness began to descend. Vacant stores flashed by on our left, some still emitting lazy, ambient music, while row upon row of abandoned vehicles clogged the road on our right. It all come together to create a post-apocalyptic world virtually suffocating.

  Up ahead, where our street crossed a large intersection, a pair of soldiers was stationed at the corner of a bookstore. Above them the robots lazily clicked from green, to yellow, to red, and back again, unaware that the streets had ground to a halt.

  “Soldiers at the intersection,” Gill said into his radio, “Enforcers approaching.”

  “We read you, Commander Gill.”

  We jogged over and took positions crouching at their side.

  “Girl is up ahead,” one said.

  The other was gazing up the road through the scope of a long range rifle.

  “She keeps looking around but hasn’t spotted us, I don’t think,” he said. “There are more men up there,” he pointed to the rooftop across the road, “and above us. Both have a clean shot.”

  I looked where he pointed and made out the silhouette of snipers against the clear blue sky.

  “Alright, thank you soldier.” Gill raised the radio to his mouth. “Snipers on the rooftops; hold your fire till I give the word. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Commander,” the radio responded.

  “My Heavy is going in. Stand by.” He turned to me. “Ready, Clarence?”

  I swallowed; mouth like sandpaper. “Yes, sir.”

  “We’ll be watching from here. If you get a bad feeling, think she’s getting aggressive, just raise your hand high up in the air. We’ll be there in a flash. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then proceed when ready.”

  I took a deep breath and stepped out from the bookstore, an overwhelming feeling of vulnerability settling in like whale blubber. Ahead, fifty meters away, Judy was tottering up the road, flanked on all sides by abandoned vehicles. Her pace was that of an inebriated person.

  I advanced and my warning buzz exploded into life. Ignoring it was akin to ignoring a mouthful of dentist’s drill. Twenty-five meters. I passed a bus stop and newspaper stand. Her body, visible from the waist up, coasted between rows of cars ahead. It fell into finer detail the nearer I got. It occurred to me now how much a limp robe and anorexic body reminded me of Selena’s demon.

  I could hear her shuffling footsteps and quickened my own pace, moving into the street and slipping between stationary vehicles. Around me the city was silent. But I felt the gaze of the soldiers and envisioned their fingers on triggers.

  She was just a few meters ahead now and I paused, body flushing cold.

  “Judy,” I attempted to say, but trembling lips swallowed the word. I wet them and tried again. “Judy.”

  She did not respond.

  “Judy Carlson.’

  Her head lifted as if hearing a noise somewhere in the distance. But she continued her clumsy amble.

  “I’m Jet Clarence, I’m here to help.”

  She halted. My body tensed. For a moment I considered simply raising my hand and letting the other Enforcers come crashing down, and my right arm even twitched in anticipation. But a will of steel restrained me.

  Her head turned. When the face was revealed for an instant my frantic mind told me she had to be a demon; that no human could possibly be so cadaver-like and still function as a living creature.

  “I’m here to help,” I repeated, “we met before. Do you remember?”

  Her eyes explored my face, wild and uncomprehending. I was sure she would turn away and keep walking, but her trembling lips parted and a croaking voice emerged.

  “Help me.”

  “I’ll help you, Judy.”

  “Help me. I need to get… I need to get the white wall….’

  “I know, Judy. I know you do. Where is it? Where is the white wall? Can you tell me?”

  At this her eyes narrowed in confusion. Rusted wheels cranked over lazily after lying dormant for years.

  “Need to get there.” she whimpered, “Need to get there.”

  “Okay, I understand. I’m going to help, okay?”

  She stared, eyes pleading. I took a hesitant step forward. The buzzing increased, my body screamed in anticipation.

  My eyes locked on hers and I found my Place of Calm. Around us the world faded until it fell away entirely.

 

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