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The Dimension Weaver (Alice the Fallen Mystery Book 2)

Page 17

by K. H. Pope

I stop at a store at the end of the block to buy cigarettes and a lighter, lost all of that stuff back when I was burned alive. As soon as I’m out of the store, I light up and start my stroll back to the infirmary. It’s a brilliant cold evening. The biting chill makes it hard to enjoy my cigarette, but I’m going to make the most of it. The bench on the lawn, not too far from the offering angel I stared at earlier, is where I take my seat. This time I pay no attention to her. An unhindered view of a dancing fountain across the street has my attention for the moment. I inhale a lung full of smoke and tilt my head back to blow it all out. The sky is now giving me an amazing show. The Orion is bigger than I imagined, and a host of other constellations are just as beautiful.

  My smoke sure is good to have, and when I’m done with that one, I light another. My thoughts begin to drift to Adam, the kid with the spiky Mohawk. He wants to be just like his brother when he grows up. Eventually, I will have to call him and tell him the bad news. No, I have to go see him and tell him in person. He’ll be so disappointed and angry, but it must be done.

  Ammon’s driver pulls up in front of me. The headlights are blinding, and I cover my eyesight with my arm. The lights shut off, and I see Ammon coming to join me. He has on a bowler hat, gloves, scarf, and a trench coat. I don’t feel a thing at that moment. Maybe, it’s because inside I’m in turmoil, angry, and sad. It takes a lot of energy to feel all of that at once.

  “Alice,” Ammon says as he joins me. “It’s bloody cold out here. Why didn’t you wait for me inside?”

  “The cold doesn’t bother me,” I reply. “How did your meeting go?”

  “Actually, I’m just coming back from seeing Priscilla.”

  “How is she taking her father’s death?”

  “She’s heartbroken.”

  “Yeah,” I remark as I flick ashes. “I feel bad about that.”

  “The Magi Elite plans on having the funeral service for President Oliver in two days. He will be buried in Hallowed Sanctuary Mausoleum in Salem, Massachusetts.”

  “That’s quick,” I remark.

  “Well, he’s already cremated,” he comments. “You can come if you want.”

  “Bad idea,” I remark.

  “You’re cleared, Alice. Vice President Bishop apologized to you, and he spoke for the Magi Elite. You are in good standing.”

  “His little speech was all great and wonderful, Ammon, but I’m not going. I’d be a fool to think that everyone else in the Magi fall in line with him.”

  “Alright,” Ammon says. “I hear you loud and clear. No funerals for you.”

  “That’s right. No funerals for me.”

  “You know, he wasn’t a bad person.”

  I look at him curiously and ask, “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

  “I just don’t want you to think President Oliver was all bad.”

  “What I think of him no longer matters.” I flick my cigarette to the sidewalk before continuing. “And I don’t want to talk about him anymore. That discussion is best saved for his daughter.”

  “Okay, then, lets talk about John,” Ammon remarks. “And let’s get out of the cold before I freeze my toes off. These are the nights I wish I was in the Bahamas. Summer breeze all year long.”

  Ammon offers his arm, and I gladly take it.

  “Did he respond to you at any time?”

  “No,” I answer with disappointment. “I wonder if Chief Lacey permanently damaged his mind, or maybe the dimension trap was too much for him.”

  “Once Chief Lacey died, all of his mind tricks went away. That magic shouldn’t have put John in a coma, but I don’t know about the dimension trap.”

  “I wish there was a way I can help him.”

  “I believe he will eventually come out of the sleep, Alice. Patience and time.”

  Leon, the chauffeur, opens the car door for us, and I get inside first. Once we’re both settled, the driver asks if Ammon is ready to go, and he nods his answer.

  “This whole deal is just terrible,” Ammon says while reaching for a bottle of scotch. “John, the people in the dimension traps, and their families. Do you know that since Chief Lacey has died, those people he had mind control over are distraught now? Their emotions are catching up after being suppressed for so long. Some have suffered mental breakdowns. I hear that most of them are going to the press and to the police recanting their stories, saying that their loved ones are still missing.”

  “Of course, they would,” I comment. “I’d do the same thing.”

  “I wish there was a way for all of them to find peace, especially since they can’t escape the traps. Human souls were not meant to live for an eternity in a white box. The researchers in the Magi discovered there was 13 people who are over 120 years old, still alive in the traps.”

  “How do they know?” I ask.

  “They found articles online, spoke to a few of their families. The oldest guy is from Amarillo, Texas. He was an art teacher at the elementary school in that town many years ago. He disappeared when he was 85 years old. His family thought he just wandered off in the desert, got lost, but he’s been trapped for over 35 years.”

  “Heather Freland and her father have been at this for that long? Are you serious, Ammon?” I ask with complete shock.

  “Well, her father started it, and she picked up where he left off when he died.” Ammon takes a huge swallow and continues, “I hate to say this, Alice, but I truly believe that death is a much better option if they can’t have life.”

  My heart flutters in my chest when Ammon’s words hit me.

  I think back to what Chief Natrik said: “You must overcome your fear of a greater power and use it.”

  I’ve said that nothing really scares me, but that was a lie. I do fear one thing. There is a power that no man, animal, witch, wizard, elf, dwarf, or any other being on this earth can beat. I understand what Chief Natrik means now. It’s so freaking clear in my head that I’m ready to jump out the moving car.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Ammon asks as he pours himself another drink.

  “I need to get out of the car. Leon, I need to get out of the car!”

  He pulls over at the first clear parking spot.

  “Where are you going?” Ammon asks.

  I stop before getting all the way out. I’m thinking way ahead of myself. I must slow down. “Okay, look, I need for you to take the portraits back to your house.”

  “Inspector Renald will not allow that.”

  “Ask Bishop. Tell him I might have a way of freeing everyone, but I want the portraits back at your house.”

  “Alice, where are you going? You do realize it’s after nine in the evening, and it’s dark. The boogie man does exist.”

  “The what,” I answer, giving him a strange look. “Anyway, I’ll meet you back at your house. Oh, one more thing, place the pictures on the parlor room floor. I think that room is big enough.”

  “On the floor?” He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

  “Yes, side by side, and everyone need to leave and stay out of the room. Don’t waste any time doing this, Ammon. I could be back within 30 minutes. So, you must quickly do what I ask.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  I get out of the car without answering his question, and I look around at my surroundings. There’s nothing but white brownstones. The first door will have to do. I run up the flight of stairs and wrap my hand around the knob. After quickly saying the spell, I open the door to the transfer chamber. I’m so hoping the person, or the being, I’m going to see will do what I think he’ll do. It’s a crazy idea, but at the same time, it makes sense. I just hope it works.

  CHAPTER 44

  The gas station in Utah is still stinky and messy. I hold my breath as I leave the parking lot and cross the street to the interstate ramp. There’s no traffic on the highway or coming off the ramp. When I reach the main thoroughfare, I don’t see Attimus Grim. I look in both directions and across the medium.

  “
Shamira,” he says.

  I nearly jump out of my skin as I turn to face him. “Sneaking up on me like that is not nice, Attimus.”

  He laughs, mocking me.

  “I need your help, and I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “You will if that’s all I have to say.”

  “I found more dimension traps, Attimus.”

  “And?”

  “And I need to know where Death is?”

  “He’s in Seoul, but I must warn you that he’s unpredictable. He may not care about those people in the dimension traps.”

  “Does he even know about them?”

  “The span of his knowledge is unknown to me.”

  I nod and comment with worry, “War is there.”

  “He is.”

  “That’s not what I mean. Anyway, will you go with me?”

  “I cannot,” he says. “And you know why.”

  “Thank you for your help, Attimus. I really appreciate it.”

  He disappears. I grab my cell and make a call as I make my way back down the ramp.

  Ammon answers, “Alice, we’re getting the portraits together right now.”

  “Good, I should be back at your home within half an hour. Don’t forget about what I said. No one can be in the room when I get back.”

  “Will you please tell me what you’re doing?”

  “You don’t want to know. Just have the pictures separated on the floor. Okay?”

  “Alright,” Ammon says with worry.

  I disconnect the call and immediately get on the internet. I go to an interactive map website and put in my destination. The website zooms to Seoul.

  North Korea and South Korea have been fighting since the Fellowship started nationwide attacks in the states, and South Korea is not winning. I need to be ready when I get there. If War is leading the charge on both sides and Death is reaping, it’s going to be a doozy of a battle. Honestly, there’s no way to prepare myself for what’s coming next.

  CHAPTER 45

  Early morning in Seoul. The sun has not risen in the eastern sky, but the city is bright from multiple fires. Skyscrapers, cars, even the potted plant life are burning and giving off toxic fumes. People are running in all directions, despite the fact it’s not even five in the morning. Unseen rapid gunfire is coming from overhead windows in different buildings. Bombings from low flying military planes sound like thunder that’s way too close for comfort, and dead bodies lay in the streets and sidewalks. There is an awful smell of blood and metal.

  I’ve seen war first hand. It always shocks me how vicious and unkind man can be to one another. The battles that are fought are done by those that don’t understand it, young ones that just became adults, but they will do whatever is told of them, whatever is necessary for their loved ones and their country.

  A man screams bring me back to this war’s reality, and the sound of gunfire follows soon afterwards. I take cover behind a wall barrier. From where I am, I can see a group of children running by in the street. They are trying to get away from a growing sound of metal and gears. I keep close to the barrier and wait for my senses to tell me if he’s close by. For now, I only feel fear and hopelessness.

  The ground begins to rumble. The cause is a rolling machine that can literally blow up and crush anything in its path. The sheer volume of the noise brings people out from the building behind me. They are making a run for it, trying their best to get away from the tank.

  The first machine comes into full view through a cloud of smoke, and aims at the building behind me. I take off running, too. I’m not fast enough. The tank round hit the bottom floor, sending glass and cement all over the place. The energy from the blow knocks me off my feet. I’m not hurt too bad, and I manage to get up and keep going. I take cover behind a car, which I already know is the worse idea ever, but I have to get my bearings before moving on.

  Another tank comes from my left. I can hear automatic fire from high points in the buildings. The shooters are trying to take down the moving metal monstrosity. The attempt is a waste, and they don’t seem to realize it. The bullets are simply bouncing off the tanks, sometimes causing sparks. That thing keeps right on going, coming right in my direction. I take off running down the sidewalk. Another blast comes from the second tank to the same building that was hit before, and that structure comes crashing down.

  The dust cloud catches up with me, and I run right smack into a sign that’s on the edge of the sidewalk. I hit the ground, knocking myself silly and feeling like an idiot. I lay there for a moment, a bit dazed but not all the way confused. My carelessness turns out to be a bad idea. People are still shooting, and bullets are whizzing by. Whoever they are, they don’t seem to have any idea if they’re shooting at friendlies or foes. I guess it doesn’t matter when that’s all they’re trying to do is stay alive.

  I have to find cover. I get back on my feet and cover my mouth. The smoke and dirt are chokingly thick. My head is pounding furiously as I begin to jog. Eventually, I find an alley that has no windows for people to shoot out of. I lean against the wall and try to catch my breath.

  It’s not long before I see men running down the alley. They are carrying their weapons across their backs. He gets to the corner and peeks around it with his weapon ready to fire. After a few seconds, he signals for the other guys to go. They don’t seem to care that I’m right there. All of them continue running, but just as the last guy steps from behind the building, a shot rings out. A sure hit to his forehead, and he hits the ground. Gunfire is returned from the men out in the open.

  As I’m about to go up the alley to get away from the shooting, another group of men appear. They stop and two of them get on their knees. It sure seems like they’re all aiming at me. I see a glass door not too far from where I’m standing, and I make a dash for it. I go through the pane right before the bullets blaze by. I can hear the screams of death as other targets are hit. Slowly, I get up, but as soon as I turn around, I see a man standing outside the door with a gun aimed at me. The rest of his men run by him.

  Hurting human beings are the last thing I want to do, but he’s about to shoot me. I make the rifle leave his hand and make it fly back up the alley out of his reach. He is shocked by what I did, and his hesitation is what gets me running. I hide behind the counter thinking I’m safe, but of course, I’m wrong.

  More soldiers come inside, and they’re talking all at once. The one soldier is calling me a sorceress, and that I should be taken alive. One soldier does not care, and he wants me dead. They start arguing, and then they begin shooting. I duck down farther as the glass display cases on the back wall start falling down around me.

  I have to do something to find Death fast, or those guys are going to put bullet holes in every part of my body. That won’t be a good time for me at all. The only thing I can think of is screaming for Death, and I shout as loud as I can over and over again.

  The building is beginning to shake, and the shooting stops. I stop screaming. The soldiers are scampering out, knowing that the tanks are coming.

  I yell as loud as I can, “Death! I’ve come to tell you of lost souls! A witch has cheated you! Do you hear me! YOU’VE BEEN OUTSMARTED!”

  The sounds of war fades to silence, and the room fills with gray fog. I do believe I got his attention, but I’m not ready like I thought I was. The smoke gets thicker and begins to block my view, but there is a pair of red eyes in the distance. A pale horse appears. It thunders at full speed, and he doesn’t stop until he is right over me. The behemoth snorts and scratches at the ground.

  Death’s presence makes me tremble uncontrollably. I scoot away from them, but it does no good. The horse steps forward, and this time, he’s even closer.

  Death gets off and walks over to me with silent footsteps. The tattered hem of his glistening black robe scratches the ground. He stops right in my view, but I can’t look up at him. The fear is so great and so deep that I begin to weep. I get a sense that he wants to kill me.

 
“My...my apologies for bothering you,” I humbly remark.

  “I don’t want to hear your apology.” His deep voice echoes. “I want to hear about this certain witch that thinks she has outsmarted me.” He is absolutely livid. I can feel it through every atom of my body.

  While keeping my head down, I reply, “Her...her name is...Heather Freland. She’s been...trapping humans in dimension traps. Her father has done the...the same.”

  “And why do you think I would care for such a menial matter?”

  “There are several that are over 120 years old...still alive right now.”

  Death falls silent, and I continue to keep my head down.

  “Where are these souls?”

  “At the home of Ammon Seth,” I answer.

  “You better not be lying.”

  The power within him swells as he hits the ground with his scythe. It shakes like an earthquake, and the smoke disappears.

  The coolness of Ammon’s floors are beneath me, and Death’s rob is right at my fingertips. I scoot away. Vice President Bishop and several Magi Elite members are in the corridor not too far away. They move back when they see him. Some disappear. Now, I wish I would have told Death exactly where in Ammon’s house the traps were located. I was trying to avoid Ammon and the Magi Elite from seeing him altogether.

  Death looks at everyone in the hallway, but says nothing. He turns his attention in the direction of the parlor and goes to the entrance to look inside. Even though I’m looking down at the floor, I can feel the level of his anger. It is beyond measure.

  As soon as he goes inside, Inspector Renald and Officer Kutto are flung out of the room with just the will of his thoughts. They hit the other side of the hallway wall like they are nothing more than ragdolls. They better be glad he didn’t directly touch them. They’d be dead right now.

  He scans the room for a moment, taking in all the portraits, but then he turns. Death reaches out his hand at me, and my body slides across the floor towards him. As soon as I’m all the way in the parlor room, the double doors slam close, leaving only me and Death with all of the portraits lying in a heap on the floor. I notice that they never finished placing the pictures down side by side. But it doesn’t matter. Death understands what he’s seeing.

 

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