by Nathan Roden
“I want the Jamison girl, Wellmore!” Crane yelled. “She and I have a session to complete! I offer you an even exchange. The McFadden girl, for the Jamison girl. I leave here, and you go on about your affairs.”
“Ha!” Wellmore said. “I don’t need—!”
Wellmore looked at me and fell silent. I held the point of his dagger against my heart.
“Wrong. You do need another host, Wellmore!” I said.” If you make one move toward me, this sacrificial lamb is dead!”
I didn’t know what I was doing—or what I was saying. All I hoped to do was buy some more time. From the corner of my eye, I saw Duncan trying to revive Tara. I could have sworn that I saw her twitch, but that may have only been wishful thinking.
“Very well,” Wellmore said. “The Jamison girl has been nothing but trouble.”
I inched my way toward Tara, still holding the dagger to my chest. My foot hit something. I slowly looked down.
It was the tranquilizer dart. I nudged it with my foot and pushed it behind me.
Crane waved his gun at me.
“Who is this boy?” he asked Wellmore.
Wellmore waved his gun toward Holly.
“Her lover.”
“We never—!” Holly snapped.
“Oh, please, Miss McFadden!” Wellmore said. “This is the last day of your lives, and you are worried about your virtue?”
“Move away from the girl,” Crane said to Wellmore.
Wellmore stepped away from Tara. He kept his eyes on the armed man behind the locker. Crane moved Holly sideways until he stood next to me.
“You. Boy,” Crane said. “There is a shackle behind me. Close the cuff around your lover’s wrist—pretend that it is one of the exotic games that you enjoy.”
Crane laughed at his own joke. I cuffed Holly’s wrist, while Crane retained his hold on her. Maybe he was getting tired. He no longer held the gun against Holly’s temple. It now rested against her neck.
“Now,” Crane said. “Bring me the Jamison girl.”
Duncan looked up at me. He shook his head and moved aside.
I put my hands beneath Tara’s arms. My mouth was close to her ear.
“Please. Please wake up.”
I lifted Tara and dragged her to Crane’s side.
Crane kept his eyes on Wellmore as he pulled Tara away from me. I looked down at Crane’s exposed side.
It would have been so easy! I could have plunged the dagger halfway through his torso!
But what would that accomplish? I thought. Wellmore was armed and Holly was shackled.
Crane now held all of Tara’s weight. I reached for Holly. Crane whipped his gun around against Holly’s forehead.
“Get away from her!” he yelled at me. I stepped back. Wellmore took the opportunity to move for cover.
“No, no, no!” Crane said. “Out in the open, Wellmore! I need to see your hands.”
Wellmore stepped out slowly.
A commotion next to the dungeon door caused everyone to turn.
Delbert Scoggins, flanked by Bruiser, Dougie, and Arabella, launched into “Jailhouse Rock”.
In the next second, Crane leveled his pistol at Wellmore. Crane screamed and fired a harmless shot into the air.
Tara Jamison had sunk her teeth into Crane’s upper arm.
Thank God, I thought. Tara is awake.
Unfortunately, this also allowed Reygar to rise through the floor and back into the room.
I saw terror in Crane’s eyes. His jaw worked back and forth until he screamed again.
With his scream, a blue flame shot from his mouth. The flame engulfed Reygar, who loosed another scream of his own.
Crane laughed like a crazy man.
“Yes! Yes!” Crane swung his fist at Tara. She ducked. Crane’s fist hit the wall, and the stone surface cracked. Crane did not act as if the blow hurt him at all. He unleashed his own sinister-looking dagger and dove toward Tara. He stabbed at Tara’s head and she barely ducked out of the way. The dagger pierced the stone like it was made of cardboard.
Crane laughed again. He threw his arm around Tara’s neck.
“Do you realized what you have done, little witch? I had every intention of peeling your flesh with that blade—but your bite has empowered me to rip you apart with my bare hands!”
Sebastian Wellmore was trying to line up a clear shot at Crane. Reygar attempted to pull himself up from the floor. Tara clawed at Crane’s arm, but her desperation, her bite, had empowered him. Crane was too strong, and she had to fight for air.
We were out of time.
I dropped to the floor and grabbed the tranquilizer dart. Wellmore swung his gun in my direction. I rolled toward Crane as Wellmore fired at me and missed. I jabbed the dart into Crane’s leg.
Crane screamed as his left leg buckled. He swore. Tara pulled Crane’s arm away from her throat. She breathed in two quick breaths as Crane’s weight increased against her back. Crane reached down and pulled out the dart. He threw back his head and roared. A blast of fire hit the wall. Tara spun around Crane and grabbed both of his upper arms.
Crane was now Tara’s human shield.
“Kill him!” Reygar screamed.
Sebastian Wellmore fired.
And then, there was silence.
The fire in Crane’s eyes faded. He quit struggling. His chin fell to his chest—and the last thing that Dr. Adrian Crane ever saw was the bloody hole in his stomach.
Tara’s grip on Crane’s arm relaxed and his form sank lifelessly to the floor.
“Tara?” Holly whispered. “Oh, my God!”
Tara stumbled. Her eyes were open wide. She looked down at her midsection—and the bloody hole there. The hole made by the same bullet that had passed through the body of Adrian Crane.
“Oh,” Tara said. She sank to her knees and then fell onto her side.
“Tara!” Major Jamison cried. His friend, the armed man behind the locker, dove to Major Jamison’s side. He fired at Sebastian Wellmore. Wellmore cried out and dove behind the stairwell. I thought that Wellmore was hit, but I couldn’t be sure.
Duncan flew to Tara’s side, followed by the other ghosts.
Reygar disappeared again, and I was not so sure that was a good thing.
“Tara!” Major Jamison cried out again. He tried to pull himself across the floor to his daughter. His friend tried to keep Major Jamison still while he made a tourniquet of his belt.
I ran to Tara’s side. The bullet passed through her midsection, and there was nothing that could be done. Her eyes were open, and she seemed to be trying to tell me something. I leaned closer to her mouth.
Tara grabbed my collar with both of her hands. She pulled me to her. She pulled our lips together.
I panicked.
What in the world…?
I tried to pull away but her grip was so incredibly strong.
And suddenly, I could not struggle anymore.
I couldn’t see. I felt the crush of ultimate loneliness. I was overwhelmed with feelings of isolation, of not belonging—never belonging. To anything. Or to anyone.
I was trapped inside of my head—staring out at a world that I could never belong to. In that single moment, I knew that I could love. I knew that I could be a friend—a good friend. But I would never have the chance.
Grief, loneliness, despair—the feelings crushed me. They closed around me from every side, until I gave up all hope that I could ever get back.
And then the pain disappeared.
All of the grief, the misery, the loneliness—was swept away. I felt no tension. No pressure. No pain.
I was surrounded by smiling faces and open arms—welcoming me…welcoming me…
Home.
Tara’s grip loosened. I opened my eyes and pushed away from her. I could see again. I saw the slightest of smiles form on her lips. There was a smile in her eyes that lingered there—
Even after the light in Tara Jamison’s eyes went out.
“Tara!” Holly cried
. She tugged at the shackle attached to her left wrist. Her wrist was bleeding.
I looked up at Bruiser.
“Where is Wellmore?”
“He’s gone!” Bruiser said. “Disappeared!”
“The demons are gone, as well,” Arabella said.
“Where is the chalice?” I asked.
Dougie Day shook his head.
“We can’t find it. We looked everywhere!”
I looked at Holly, who was crying, and still desperately trying to free herself from the shackle. Blood dripped from her hand.
My blood. Holly’s blood.
A hot fury welled up inside me. I had never felt this way in my life. Two people were dead and another might be dying—all because Sebastian Wellmore and Reygar wanted our blood.
“Look again,” I said to the ghosts. “We need to find the chalice. We have to destroy it!”
I jumped up and ran to Holly. I grabbed her shoulders.
“Tara is gone, Holly. Please stop. You’re hurting yourself.”
Holly twisted away from me. She continued to pull against the shackle.
I grabbed the chain in frustration. I pulled against the plate that secured the chain to the wall.
My face got hot. My vision grew supernaturally clear. Anger rose up in me and all I could see—was the chain.
A growl, a roar rose up from my belly. I didn’t make it happen—not on purpose.
I was as shocked as anyone else when the sound came from my throat—it was like nothing I had ever heard or felt. My eyes narrowed as light came from behind them.
It was like…like lightning exploded from my fingertips…………….
The chain shattered. Shattered—like it was made of glass.
Holly stared at me for a second before she ran to Tara.
I ran to where Mr. Jamison’s friend had just finished applying a tourniquet to the Major’s leg.
“What do we do?” I asked the man.
The man shook his head.
“We can’t call an ambulance. We have to make sure that my people get here before the police do—I can’t explain now.”
“I understand, Sir. Do you have a car?”
“Yes. At the bottom of the hill.”
Holly stepped to my side. She was weeping quietly with her hand over her mouth.
“Bring your car up the hill,” I said. “I’ll carry him up and meet you outside.”
“You can’t carry him, Son!”
I looked down at Major Jamison. His breathing was shallow, and he was shaking. He probably outweighed me by forty pounds.
But I knew that I could lift him. I knew that I could carry him outside.
I knew that I could carry him ten miles if I had to, and knowing that inspired me—and scared the living crap out of me.
“He can carry him, Mr. Thompson,” Holly said.
I bent down, slipped my arms beneath the man, and lifted him as gently as I could. He felt no heavier than a pillow.
“Go now, Sir. Hurry.”
Forty-One
Wellmore Village, Scotland
Edinburgh, Scotland
I sat on the stairs with my arm around Holly. She laid her head against my chest. We had hardly spoken in the last two hours. Uniformed men escorted us upstairs into the great room while others cared for the bodies of Tara Jamison and Ned Collins. There were comfortable chairs about, but comfort was of little concern to either of us.
Archer Thompson walked in accompanied by three older men whose chests were covered in medals.
Captain Thompson introduced us. I wasn’t really listening to the names, but they all began with some form of “General”.
“Captain Thompson has filled us in,” the senior of the Generals said. “So I won’t insult your intelligence by beating about the bush. None of us are strangers to the world of the paranormal.”
Wow, I thought. That was not what I was expecting to hear.
“Fortunately,” the General continued. “We have the scene under our control. Major Jamison is resting and expected to have a complete recovery. He may have to endure a limp, but under the circumstances, he is one very lucky man.”
“A lucky man who just lost his only child,” Holly said without looking up.
The General inhaled and blew out a long breath.
“Yes, young lady. And a very troubled child at that.”
“Troubled?” I said. “That troubled girl is the only reason any of us survived! And this whole thing is more than likely not over.”
The General looked at Archer Thompson.
“Is there something you failed to tell me, Captain?”
“I don’t know what he’s talking about either, Sir. But whatever these two have to say is worth listening to. I saw—”
The General raised his hand.
“Now is not the time for full disclosure, Cap—”
“With all due respect, General!” Archer Thompson said. “Now is not the time to pretend that—”
“Captain!” The General roared. “I am your commanding officer, and—”
“I cannot in good conscience obey that order, Sir!” Captain Thompson said. “Collins and I met with no less than five deceased persons—one of whom died six hundred years ago! And there are spirits—there were spirits—down in that dungeon…horrible creatures, Sir. Demons. And after everything that I saw and heard today, we cannot bury this any longer. Our fight may have just begun.”
The General took a cigar out of his pocket and put it in his mouth with trembling fingers. He took out a match but did not light it. After a few moments, he put the cigar back in his pocket.
The General turned to me.
“You’re…you’re somewhat of a public figure, Son.”
“I was. A few days ago.”
“Just how do you intend to continue being a highly-visible public figure after what transpired here today?”
“The same way I would go about being a music store manager, Sir. Carefully, and one step at a time. Oh, and completely scared out of my wits.”
The General looked at Captain Thompson, who had lost none of his resolve.
“Son,” the General said. “We have an entire top-secret division that deals with this sort of thing on a daily basis. Our actions, our research, and our findings hold the highest possible security clearances. Do you realize that our foremost duty is to avoid the escape of information that could lead to a worldwide panic?”
“Of course, I do, Sir.”
The General looked at Holly, who had her head in her hands.
“You don’t have to worry about Holly, Sir,” I said. “She learned to deal with her supernatural ability at the age of six. She’s the toughest person I’ve ever met.”
The General rubbed his chin.
Holly lifted her head.
“What would you have done with Tara?”
“What are you talking about?” the General asked.
Holly stood and walked to my side.
“If you had captured her—before anyone else did. What would the army have done with her?”
“I know what you’re thinking,” the General said. “You think that we would have turned her into a lab animal. You think that we would have poked and prodded and shocked and x-rayed—”
“Are you saying that you wouldn’t?” Holly asked.
I saw the General slump. He suddenly looked less like a hard-nosed officer, and more like someone’s kindly grandfather. He shook his head.
“There was some of that when I was first introduced to the unit. But it was an unsustainable environment. There were violent disagreements over everything. There was far too much emotion—far too much pressure. And there was nowhere for anyone to go. This isn’t the kind of assignment that one just walks away from. You were not close with the Jamisons, were you, Miss McFadden?”
“No,” Holly said. “I hadn’t seen them for thirteen years.”
The General sighed and shook his head.
“I often wonder if it’s worth it—wh
at we require of our people. But the isolation is deemed necessary, and by a higher authority than mine. So, our department has a markedly different mindset from the regular military. For example, under the normal military protocol, Captain Thompson’s insubordinate behavior would have him arrested.”
The General smiled.
“I won’t make it a habit, Sir,” Thompson said.
“I’ll answer your question, Holly,” the General said. “As long as we all understand that everything said here today is classified.”
Holly and I nodded.
“There are others,” the General said. “A relative few that we know of—others who see across planes of existence. Others with…abilities.”
“I knew it!” I said. “Just like the X-Men—!”
“No, no, NO!” the General growled. “Do not ever mention the X-Men! I swear, the comic books were quite enough for us to deal with, but then the movies—! Do you have any idea what kind of pressure that put on us?”
I wilted. The kindly grandfather was gone.
“Sorry. I got a little excited.”
“We help to protect them,” the General said. “We house them on islands, mostly. But they’re not prisoners. Nor are they lab animals. I have to be able to sleep at night, and so do these other men.”
Holly nodded.
The General reverted back to Grampa.
“If we had found Tara, she and her family would have received new identities. A report would have gone out that the Jamisons were victims of an unfortunate accident. After that, they would have lived out very comfortable lives. In secret.”
The General swallowed hard, and his voice cracked.
“Their lives may have never have been ‘normal’, but they would have had a chance.”
“Uncle Robert joined your unit,” Holly said. “It was as if he knew—”