“No,” Raziel said. “It’s a map.”
Aislen looked back down at the drawing.
“We need to go here,” he said, pointing to the white circle on the page. “That is the last place your father was tracked to on the planet. And then here—” he pointed to the glittered dot in the center of the page, “—is where we will find your father.”
Thirty
As they made their way back to the warehouse, Raze thought about all that had transpired at the Presidio and with Aislen. It was incredible to think she had stumbled into The Stratum and his Demesne a mere 84 hours ago, an innocent lamb in a lion’s world.
She had been with him 36 hours, only 12 hours in The Womb, and had mastered signature acquisition and remote viewing. If what she described was true, she had also In-Stepped, channeled into another person’s perspective. She’d been a flower child and a cat and had Traveled with Thomas during some of his journeys. She had Traveled backward on the continuum and witnessed the history that had created her and, in essence, created Raze as well. It was one thing to move laterally in the present circuit, but to master any other part of the time continuum was not something even an advanced operative was easily capable of doing. She’d mastered the past in a day.
She’d learned how to acquire signatures of non-human life forms in an instant, and Raze was pretty sure if she needed to, she could acquire non-life form signatures as well and could blend into anything.
To say that Raze was impressed would be an understatement. Whatever Sigmund had discovered and developed in Thomas Reed was passed down and magnified in Preston and then passed down and amplified again in Aislen. Raze couldn’t imagine what Aislen had the potential to become. It would put his own abilities to shame, if it didn’t already, and he shuddered to think of what could be done if she were in the wrong hands.
And then there was Preston, who had been able to see the future…at barely five years old. He had created little effigies of Aislen and Raze, knowing they would be together. He had drawn a map, his own future escape route, that also provided a way for Aislen to get to him because he knew this day would come, a day when Aislen would have no choice but to run.
Now they had a place to go, and Aislen would be willing to because her father was the one behind it. Yes, she would be leaving life as she knew it behind, and her mother, but it was possible, with her and her father together, that they could get to her mom and get her to them. Raze didn’t know how, but he’d been surprised so far.
Raze knew that map well. It blew his mind that as a small child Preston had drawn such a detailed landscape. He had even used the dots and cross-hatching typical of the Aboriginal Dreamtime technique and had depicted a perfect bird’s-eye view of the landscape in that area. Raziel had seen it himself, in a Viewing from above the sacred lands. He’d gone there energetically many times during his Control training, acting like a bloodhound trying to pick up Preston’s scent. It was the number one priority of Infinium Incorporated: seek and destroy Preston Reed. It was a Prime Directive that their founder, Sigmund Lange, had implemented long before Raziel’s indoctrination.
This was a map to the last place that Preston’s signature was ever tracked to: the Outback of Australia.
How did he know as a child what he would do in his 20s? Did he just see it? Or was Preston able to do what no one else could do with precision? Travel the Continuum forward.
Raziel had thought he had mastered all that there was to master in this world, and he had been so wrong; his ego and arrogance had kept him just as blind and dumb as the rest of humanity, maybe even dumber because he knew enough to know better.
When they got back to the warehouse, Aislen cloaked herself in his old frequency shell and unlocked the Qi to the house.
They were greeted by a loud alert tone that echoed through the vast space.
“Urgent! Incoming communication from Demesne,” The Womb repeated insistently.
Raze felt a sick twist in his gut.
He caught Aislen by the arm, stopping her in the foyer and pulling her close to his body. The game may be up, Aislen. Be prepared to run, understand?
She nodded.
Wrap me up in that frequency grid and stay as close as possible. We can’t play the “I have a playmate here” card anymore.
She nodded again, pressing her back into him. He felt the energy shift around him as she included him in her field. He tried helping by attaching himself to it and pulling into his space, but his meridians rejected it as if it were poisonous. They’d have to make do with the superficial veil Aislen provided.
Raze quickly assessed their options: run now, or check the communique. No hounds had greeted them at the door to take them into custody and escort them back to headquarters. That was a good sign. And if The 8 or Grant were trying to get a hold of him, they wouldn’t use Demesne. This could only mean it was Troy trying to reach him, probably because he hadn’t been able to find Aislen and was desperate. And he couldn’t just call Grant and The 8 because he’d fucked up and killed Sigmund. But if he didn’t connect with Raze, Grant would be his next option.
If Raze ignored the call and they ran now, they would have a 30-minute lead on Infinium's Rapid Response Team. If he talked to Troy, he could tell him not to contact Grant and have him come to the warehouse so they could hunt Aislen together. This would give them a three-hour lead.
Okay. I’m going to take this call, he said. I think it’s Troy checking in. So stay really close until we get into the game.
Got it.
She moved toward the stairs quickly. Raze stayed within inches of her, one hand on her back to maintain an energetic connection. Once up the stairs, he guided her to the wall in front of the bed.
“Access Game,” he commanded. The wall began to open and the angel’s wings folded in, revealing the massive gaming screen and the pitch-black cube.
Put your hand toward the box and project my signature into it, then move quickly to that side wall so he cannot see you. But keep the net around me as best you can.
She nodded and put her hand toward the cube. It came to life, glowing deep purple. She moved to the side as Raze pulled away and moved to the bed.
He plopped down nonchalantly on the unmade sheets like he didn’t have a care in the world as Troy Kellen appeared on the screen.
“Fuck, dude. What took you so long? We’re making progress here, and you’re out fucking around?”
Raze maintained his apathetic demeanor. “Making progress? If so, you should be here by now. You get the target?”
“No. But we got the next best thing.” Kellen had a smug look on his face. He was gloating about something. Raze felt an urge to slam his fist into that face.
“The next best thing?” Raze said with measured steel. “And what would that be?”
Kellen’s smile widened. “Her mother.”
Aislen jerked her head the direction of the screen and back at Raze.
Raze kept his gaze steady, unwavering. “What do you mean, her mother? That wasn’t your directive.”
Troy shrugged. “Whelp, Aislen’s nowhere to be found. Even her mother doesn’t know where she is. So instead of just using Aislen Walker to get Preston Reed, we’re going to use Sabine Walker to get Aislen, to get Preston, and then eliminate all of them at once.”
Raze could see Aislen go white from the corner of his eye and felt her amplitude shift into a high panic. He threw a walloping downshift at her, pinning her energetically against the wall. Maintain my frequency, damn it!
Raze set his jaw and took a long breath, seething, “Where is Sabine?”
Troy was enjoying this, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “We sent her on ahead. She was more than willing to do exactly what we wanted to save her precious daughter.”
The amperage from Aislen pulsed powerfully, pushing at Raze’s control hold. He breathed more energy into her.
“And who is the ‘we’ you’re talking about, Kellen? Because last I checked, you were answering to me. Is
it Grant? The 8? You’ve run all this by them?”
“Well....no, not exactly.” His nose wrinkled and he pursed his lips. “There’s been a hitch in that plan.”
“A hitch? You mean another hitch?”
“Well, maybe I should let him explain.” Troy turned the webcam away and switched the camera off selfie mode.
Blake Parrish grinned and waved for the camera.
“Jesus Christ, Kellen! How the fuck is he gonna help us?”
“Hello, Raziel. We meet again.” It was not the voice of Blake Parrish. It was the unmistakable rasp of Sigmund Lange. He wasn’t dead! He was in Blake!
Aislen could not get another shade whiter. She shook her head violently side to side, fighting against the energetic chokehold Raze had on her. Raze slammed more wattage into her. The pulse weakened her, and the drawing and dolls she had been holding fell to the floor. Steady, woman! Any more energy from me will kill you!
“You are probably figuring out pretty quickly,” Lange continued. “You aren’t in control of this little operation anymore. In fact, this world is no longer yours. It’s mine.
“I know you have her, Raziel. I don’t know what you were planning on doing with her, but those plans have changed. You’ll bring my Ashlyn to our little rendezvous, or her mother is going to suffer an untimely and immeasurably painful death. You have a week.”
The camera switched back to selfie and Troy’s gloating face. “See you soon.” He pointed his finger at Raze like a gun and pulled the “trigger.” The screen blinked to black.
∞
The abrasive intonation of Troy’s voice sent a shudder of revulsion through Aislen. How could she have been such a fool to fall for him! She had let him touch her, kiss her, hold her! It made her skin crawl thinking about it.
When he told Raziel that they had her mother, she was ready to jump in front of the screen and scream at him, but the cold, hard hand of Raziel’s energy slammed into her chest and pinned her to the wall.
Maintain my frequency, damn it! His thoughts were harsh. He was barely containing his rage. Aislen hadn’t ever felt this ferocious an energy from him. She had forgotten who he had been before. Paralyzed against the wall, Aislen watched him while he maintained his cool as a cucumber composure in front of the screen.
Aislen’s heart shattered as she listened to Troy. He was right: her mother would do whatever he wanted if she thought Aislen was in danger. Her father had been right, too. They had all been in so much danger, and she had been so gullible not to realize who the threat was.
Raziel pressed a calmer energy deeper into her, trying to help her, trying to hold her as he had during the night, but her fear was trembling against it. And it only got worse.
“Hello, Raziel. We meet again.” Her great-grandfather’s voice rumbled in stereo through the speakers.
Aislen shuddered. He was alive! Troy hadn’t killed him after all! She couldn’t believe it.
Well, hello there, Poppet. Fancy meeting you here, came through in stereo in her head, and a frigid caress brushed across her scalp. She shook her head violently, trying to get him off and out.
A harder blast of fierce energy slammed into her as Raziel held her down harder. Steady woman! Any more energy from me will kill you!
Aislen froze. She was trapped. Caught between the unyielding restraint of Raziel and the unrelenting invasion by Sigmund Lange. She could hear his raspy voice speaking to Raziel through the speakers even as she felt the worm of his fingers tickling through her skull. His spindly energy snaked through her temple, finding a weak spot, and entered the soft tissue of her brain. Her neurons caught fire, trying to ward him off.
Do not be afraid, dear Ashlyn. I’m not going to hurt you. That is the last thing I want to do. I want to take care of you. You are my greatest pride and joy, the apple of my eye.
Aislen could feel him stroking her brain and molesting her senses. Her body convulsed with repugnance. Raziel gripped her tighter, keeping her helpless. He was trying to protect her, not realizing he was allowing Sigmund to ravage her synapses.
Just let me in, Poppet. Give me a place here. You won’t believe what we can do together. I will be so good to you.
Sigmund thrust his energy deeper into synapses and Aislen went rigid. If she didn’t do something, she would lose herself. She grabbed at Raziel’s frigid voltage that was holding her body, pulled it into her brain, and punched Sigmund’s abominable presence. It worked instantaneously, and like salt on a slug, his tendrils dissolved from her neural network.
But he was still at her ear, seething. Have it your way this time. But listen to me very carefully. You will get your ass on a plane as soon as fucking possible or so help me God, your mother dies.
Your new friend here knows the way. And I am sure if you bat your lashes and shake that ass just right, he’ll bring you right to me. You have a week.
And let me tell you: you don’t show, her death will make Thomas’s and Astrid’s deaths look like a cake walk. Do not doubt me on this. It has been such a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of extinguishing the life force out of someone, and you are the only thing that can stop me. You understand?
Nod your head for me now, like a good girl.
Aislen nodded her head. Raziel squeezed tighter at her throat. The harsh static of Sigmund evaporated from her brain as the glow from the television went black.
Raziel’s grip on her evaporated, as did the cloak of him she’d been maintaining, and Aislen fell to the floor in a riot of emotions.
“Unauthorized entry. Unauthorized entry.” The Womb started speaking in her apathetic, authoritarian voice.
Raziel flew off the bed and across the room. He grabbed Aislen by the shoulders, lifting her from the floor. “We have to leave, NOW!”
He turned, grabbing her by the hand and heading for the door. Aislen stumbling behind him, unable to catch her breath or get her feet underneath her. Raziel snatched the large backpack from the hidden compartment of his closet.
“Notifying the authorities. Notifying the authorities,” The Womb said as a whooping alarm began screaming throughout the warehouse.
Raze flew toward the stairs, dragging Aislen along. They flew down the stairs toward the back door.
“Wait!” Aislen yelled, finding her voice and her legs. She ripped her hand away from Raziel’s and began running back up the stairs.
The Womb called after her. “Engaging locks in 10, 9, 8...”
Aislen ran across the bedroom and scooped up her father’s drawing from the floor where she had dropped it. Leaving the dolls, she dashed back towards the stairs.
“...7, 6, 5...”
Aislen flew down the stairs and across the room where Raziel was holding the door open.
“...4, 3, 2...”
She grabbed his hand and they both raced toward the street as the bolts to the house engaged behind them.
Thirty-One
Troy disengaged from the game, grabbed the sledgehammer he had on standby, and smashed the box into tiny pieces.
“Grab the bags,” Sigmund ordered. “We have a flight to catch.”
“Whoa! Slow your roll! We got plenty of time,” Troy said, putting the sledgehammer down.
“Like hell we do! Ashlyn could be on a plane within a day, and we need to beat her there.” Sigmund was grabbing his bags and heading toward the door.
“Aislen, will not be on a plane that fast. First, she has to escape Raziel, if that is even possible. Then it will take her at least a week, more like two, to get a ticket, passport and money. Besides, she may have ‘gifts’ or whatever, but she doesn’t have a lot of emotional fortitude, if you know what I mean. She’s gonna panic.”
“She has Raziel,” Sigmund said, “and he isn’t going to panic.”
“Raziel?!” Troy laughed. “She doesn’t have Raziel! He only has himself. Didn’t you see his face just now? He didn’t even flinch…because he doesn’t give a fuck. He’s either gonna drop her like a bad habit to save his own ass or
he’ll bring her in to Infinium. In fact, that is what you should be worried about—him rushing her to The 8. We should probably beat him there to get Aislen.”
“Are you done? You really think you know more than I do?” Sigmund glared at Troy. “Ashlyn was right there in the room with him. She was covering her natural frequency with his, but she was there all right. I could feel her sweet vibration underneath his shadow. It was unmistakable.
“And I was so close, so very close to attaching to her, but she was able to use his frequency to throw me out. No, he didn’t kidnap her to be the hero for Infinium. He took her because he has feelings for her. They are working together.”
“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” Troy was pacing now, seething with indignation. “How did she win that maniacal asshole over?”
“I’ve learned not to underestimate people, especially where women are concerned. I learned that the hard way years ago. Raziel has fortitude. He has resources. He has dangerous capabilities. It isn’t going to be easy to persuade her to let me in with him around. That’s where you come in. Now get the fucking bags and let’s go.”
PRELUDE TO THE NIGHTMARE
Dream Within a Dream ~ The Glitch Mob
Thirty-Two
They ran, zig-zagging through the city, down alleys, between buildings, turning this way and that as to not leave a clean trail. Mirrored, bullet-gray towers glimmered down on them ominously, watchers they couldn’t hide from. Raze scanned the streets in all directions, searching for any sign of Infinium’s infamous black vans heading their direction.
“Drop your signature,” Raze barked at Aislen. “And any remnants of mine if it’s still there!”
Raze felt Aislen’s own energy blaze like a wildfire backdraft when she dropped his tattered energetic skein. She was in a panic and having a hard time shaking her own frequency, which made her completely trackable.
Time Walker: Episode 2 of The Walker Saga Page 22