Angeles Betrayal

by Michael Pierce

  Finally, he tore his attention away from the wall and looked at me. “Fiona—just like you—and Rebecca. And Rebecca had been killed and Fiona was in bad shape and she wanted my help.”

  “Help with what?” I asked, remembering Mom’s story of the attack that left Becca dead and me with scars to serve as constant reminders.

  “She said the girls were mine. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to do something, but I told her I was in a new relationship—that I was engaged to be married. Fiona’s reconstructive surgeries were racking up a lot of bills and Susan couldn’t afford to get everything her daughter—my daughter—needed.” He took a heavy breath as he recalled the memory, transported to the moment in time just like he’d been during the transcription. “I got her into the best doctors and paid off all the bills, and ensured she’d be able to live a normal life. But Susan didn’t want to introduce me into my daughter’s life beyond all that. I’d be starting a new family and she wanted to keep us separated. I could have tried to fight her but I hadn’t been there for the first six years of this girl’s life and Susan was so adamant she wanted to continue their lives without me.”

  I was in tears by the time he’d stopped talking. He looked confused by my outpouring of emotions and wiped my cheeks with his fingers. Then he traced his forefinger down the deep lines of my right cheek without making a connection.

  “It seems you haven’t had the easiest life either,” he said, removing his hands from my face.

  “You could say that,” I laughed despite the tears continuing to well up in my eyes.

  “I wish I knew what became of Susan and Fiona. She’d probably be about your age by now—a fine young woman. And then there’s my Abigail. If only I hadn’t lost her too.”

  I wanted to tell him that he didn’t lose her—or me. I wanted to tell him that the Fiona he was remembering as a small child was the very same as the girl before him. But every time I tried to tell him the truth, I kept remembering the craziness he’d spouted the night I met him. I was afraid it would upset him to the point of losing his current lucidity. Somewhere in his memories, things seemed to still make sense. However, his access to that clarity seemed deeply flawed.

  “What if you were to discover you didn’t lose Abigail or Fiona?” I asked, going against my better judgment.

  “Abigail is dead,” he said. “I know it for a fact. You look a lot like her. Have I ever told you that?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Every time you confuse our names.”

  “I’m sorry. I was going to take her to the moon. It was her dream, you know, so we could escape the monsters hiding all around us. They’re everywhere, you see—well, you’ll know that because you’re with the Society. But my little Abigail didn’t. She was too young… then she was taken away from me and Gillian left. She left me with no one.”

  “That’s not true,” I said. “You have me.”

  “You’re working for me. It’s not the same. I have Kelly too, but that’s different than your own flesh and blood.”

  “Fiona’s probably still out there somewhere—searching for you, waiting for you.”

  “You’re right here,” he said.

  “I am, Dad,” I said, tears threatening to prick my eyes again.

  “What? Fiona, what are you saying? My daughter’s name was Abigail—little Abby—you know this. I don’t appreciate you taking advantage of my sentiments. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  And like that he was gone, and we were back to the delusional world. “I’m sorry, sir. I guess I got carried away. It… umm… It won’t happen again.”

  “See that it doesn’t. I don’t need the added stress and grief. You’ve been doing a good job, but perhaps it’s best if I tell Kelly to have you transferred.”

  “I said I’m sorry,” I cried. “I’ll stay out of your personal life. We’ll get back to work.”

  “We’ve done enough for today,” he said, getting up from the desk chair and wandering back to the rocker. “Get today’s information logged. Remember to encrypt it—Kelly should have shown you.”

  “He did,” I said, rubbing my eyes, then closing the laptop. “I’ll do it right away. And I’ll call for your 4 p.m. snack.”

  “My, is it that time already?”

  “It will be by the time your food arrives.”

  “Then do that too. Thank you, Fiona.”

  “Good day, Assemblyman Damascus,” I said and rushed out of the room before I could burst into tears.

  I knew I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up—that he’d finally accept me for who I really was. But there I was again, mismanaging my expectations. Luckily, I had the elevator cab to myself, giving me the time needed to calm down. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths as the cab descended to the main level.

  When I got back to the North Building, I exited the control room ready to download the new file onto the main server. But I stopped and stared at the blank wall hiding the portal.

  I pictured the numbers Matthew had pressed, then looked down both directions of the hallway. For some reason, I found myself completely alone. Curious if my memory was accurate, I stepped up to the wall and pressed my hand to it to bring up the glowing keypad. Then I slowly punched in the numbers.

  The hidden door opened to reveal its secret hallway with the time portal at the far end. So, I’d remembered it correctly and could get to the station myself. I could lead Frederick after all, if I was just able to get him that far.

  A moment later, the door closed and disappeared back into the wall. I couldn’t believe I’d be taking this from Matthew. He’d spent his whole life protecting that very door—the door into tomorrow—from Frederick. I was so terrified by what lay ahead.

  34

  Matthew

  “President Bolt, do you copy?” the voice of the Earth commander crackled through the radio.

  “I’m here, Commander,” Janice said, standing behind the controls. “Go ahead.”

  This time, the majority of the Assembly was able to be present for contact with the ground, and Ashley had called me to get to the station as soon as possible.

  “I have someone who has been asking to speak with you. Please stand by.”

  There was more heavy static, suddenly lessening when the new voice came onto the line. “President Bolt, this is Nathan Drake. I led a six-man team from ParallEarth on your orders eight years ago. We lost contact once we entered Earth’s atmosphere.”

  “And we all feared you never made it to the surface,” Janice said, glancing back at us, a pained smile on her face.

  “Well, I’m here to tell you now—we made it, Madame President.”

  “Nathan, it’s so good to hear your voice.”

  “It’s been difficult here. Out of the six of us, only Victor and myself remain,” Nathan said.

  “I’m sorry. That is heartbreaking news,” Janice said. “I wish there was something we could have done to assist you.”

  “Nathan, this is Assemblyman Fiennes. I commend you on your bravery and what you and your team have accomplished. I, too, am sorry for the losses you’ve suffered. But now that you’ve finally been able to make contact, please tell us what it’s like on the surface,” Douglas said. “What has the world become?”

  Nathan spoke of a new world of vampire-run cities with protected communities outside the city walls where humans provided blood and allegiance for protection. Then there were the lawless lands between the major cities where all the rebel factions were located and where there was no ruling class—only survival.

  It was certainly hard for everyone to hear. We’d all expected a vampire-run society, but the details Nathan provided were hard to accept, especially in the dystopian wastelands outside the cities where they were currently hiding out.

  “It sounds as bad as we all feared,” Janice said.

  “We’re trying to find more allies,” Nathan said. “We need more supernaturals willing to fight with us to even attempt a rebellion. But that’s our only hope.”


  “Keep us informed of what’s going on down there and what we can do to provide you with assistance. We can build more unmanned pods while the portal is still open, to send down supplies.”

  “I’ll take an inventory of what we need and get back to you,” Nathan said, his voice becoming more garbled in the static.

  It wasn’t long before the static completely overtook the communications line, drowning out the voices we heard from the ground. But everyone agreed it was a momentous occasion—that even though the call from the ground was eight years late, it still came through. They had survived the landing and survived living on the surface for eight long years. The vampires were the ruling class as we’d always feared, but all was not hopeless. Nathan confirmed there were scattered rebel factions of humans fighting to survive, building a system of allies to take back Richmond, Virginia. It only takes one city.”

  In the darkest hours, one had to find hope to cling to in order to survive, especially when the outcome was unknown—when the future had no longer been written down.

  I remembered sitting in that very control room, looking not much younger than I was now, afraid the last of the air would be used up before the miracle happened. Those of us left were sprawled on the floor trying to save what little energy we had left. It didn’t seem like we were going to make it another hour, let alone another ninety-nine years. Now, the station was in much better repair and people were moving around freely from sector to sector, more like it had been when I was a child.

  The mission ahead plagued me. I had no idea what kind of ripple effect it would have—if, indeed, it would have one at all. If there was one thing our communication with the ground proved, it was that the vampires succeeded with or without Damien Galt. He was the figurehead we knew about, but perhaps the movement had already grown larger than his immediate direction? Maybe we’d actually succeed in killing him, but we’d already passed the point of no return for Vampire Nation; the wheels were already spinning too fast to stop the momentum of his influence, his vision of vampire supremacy already implanted in enough of his subjects to keep his plan alive with or without him.

  However, for the first time, we could finally test what impact our actions had on the future because we were no longer just in our own little bubble in the sky, physically removed from what was happening below. Now we could try to accomplish something big and learn if it affected life on the ground. Tomorrow was our day of reckoning—to discover what impact we still had or if we were simply predestined to the state that most of us thought was inevitable.

  “When is your strike?” Janice asked as I tried to sneak away from the control room.

  “Tomorrow,” I said. “The Benefit Dinner is tomorrow evening.”

  “We’ve all heard what the future holds and it’s as bleak as we feared. So, what do you think this mission’s going to accomplish?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “The only way to find out is to kill them,” Douglas said.

  “And even then, we may not know,” I said. “If the whole future changes—for better or for worse—there’s a good chance we’ll lose all communication with the ground, so we won’t receive that confirmation. It’s just like all the data being wiped clean when taken through the portal. The universe is continually providing doubt, even when we’re so sure.”

  “It’s certainly worth the risk,” Douglas said. “Just kill those bastards. Give my son the opportunity and he won’t hesitate.”

  “We’ll do everything we can,” I said. I glanced at Ashley, who gave me a sad smile.

  “We’re all in this together,” Janice said. “Good luck.”

  “Yeah… thanks,” I said and returned to the North Building by way of the portal while those present from the Assembly continued to discuss how future communications should be handled.

  It seemed I could never avoid everyone I intended to because after turning down a few hallways to reach the elevators to the main level, I found Taylor walking toward me.

  “Hello, Matthew,” she said while still thirty feet away. “It’s funny how we keep running into each other. As much as you wanted to get rid of me, it seems our fates are eternally entwined.”

  “Funny isn’t the word I would use,” I said as she drew closer.

  “You’re right. What’s funny is that you always thought of yourself as better than me, treating me as disposable when I wanted nothing more than to be with you.”

  “Sometimes relationships just don’t work out,” I said. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

  “No; but you could have been nicer to me,” she said, her expression quickly changing—her gaze going from sweet to shooting daggers in a split second. She stopped when we were no more than a few feet apart. “You threw me out like trash. And even now, you’re still treating me like garbage.”

  I’d thrown her out because she was stalking me and using my weaknesses against me—but arguing with her now would only prolong the conversation when all I wanted to do was get out of the building and get ready for Fiona.

  “You’re right; I could have done things differently and treated you better. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.” I tried to sound as sincere as possible, even though I felt like rolling my eyes.

  “I don’t need your sympathy now,” she snapped. “I know my worth. I’ve moved on.”

  Good for you; then why are we even having this conversation? I thought.

  “Okay,” I said instead. “I’m happy for you—that you’ve moved on. I want you to be happy.”

  “Sure, you do,” Taylor sneered. “I just wanted you to know that you should have treated me better.” Then without waiting for me to further apologize or rebut her words, she stormed off down the hallway.

  I had to admit, I was a little confused by her drastic change of attitude, but whatever had got her to leave me alone was a good thing. Maybe it was finally the end of our drama.

  I shook off Taylor’s outburst and continued back to my apartment, where I’d planned to wait for Fiona to come over. Even though this was only scheduled to be a one-day mission, she still had a demeanor as if I was going off to war and might not return. However, I wasn’t worried about not returning; what worried me was the thought of succeeding and the Order not upholding their promise to absolve my debts, and instead keep me under their control.

  35

  Fiona

  Matthew’s latest attack on Damien Galt was scheduled for the next day—and I only knew that because of Frederick—so it was potentially the last night we’d have together. I wanted to spend every waking minute with Matthew until he left. After that, I had no idea what the future held for us.

  I wanted to come to his apartment. It felt more like home than my new condo and I wanted as much of his stuff as possible around me, reminding me of him.

  Peter was as cordial as ever as we rode to the top floor, and when I let myself into the apartment, I found Matthew in the dining room, lighting the last candle to perfect his dinner preparation. Red rose petals covered the table and spilled onto the surrounding hardwood floor. Two place settings of fine china were positioned adjacent to each other at the near side of the table, while a mouth-watering roast sat waiting to be sliced at the center of the table, surrounded by serving bowls for the various side dishes.

  “Welcome home,” Matthew said, and I just melted with a huge smile and brimming tears. He was by my side in a flash. “I’m sorry; this was supposed to be a good surprise.”

  I wiped my eyes and laughed. “It’s a wonderful surprise,” I said, reaching out, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him into me. He eagerly complied immediately and our lips met.

  A shiver ran through me as his hands found my hips and he held me tight to his body, pushing my lips apart and searching out my tongue with his. I felt so safe in his arms and didn’t want to think about how I might be giving all that up.

  When his lips left mine, he trailed tiny kisses across my cheek and down my neck until he reached my collarb
one. Then he was back to looking me directly in the eyes and wiping away errant tears with his thumb.

  “There’ll be plenty of time for this, but I don’t want your food to get cold,” he said, leading me by the hand into the dining room.

  “You didn’t have to do all this,” I said as he pulled out my chair to allow me to sit.

  “Ordering the food from the kitchen was no trouble at all,” he said with a sly smile and picked up an open bottle of champagne from an ice bucket. He presented me with the bottle like a professional server. “Can I offer you a drink, m’lady?”

  “You may,” I said, feeling my cheeks start to redden.

  As expected, he only poured a glass for me. I then noticed another champagne flute, that one filled with blood, waiting on the kitchen counter.

  Matthew proceeded to slice the roast, giving us each a portion of meat. When it came to the sides, he filled my plate while not adding to the juicy roast that covered only a small portion of his plate.

  “Can you tell me anything about your mission tomorrow?” I asked as Matthew retrieved his champagne flute from the kitchen and took the adjacent seat to mine.

  “I can tell you not to worry,” he said with a wry smile. “It’s nothing dangerous. There’s no need for you to be anxious.”

  “I worry simply because you won’t tell me what you’re being tasked to do,” I said. “But if you promise me you’ll be safe, then I believe you.”

  “I promise,” he said and raised his glass. “To us. To tonight. To forever.”

  A lump formed in my throat from his toast because there was us and tonight, but forever felt like it was slipping through my fingers.

  “Cheers,” I said, my voice catching.

  Matthew had finished his roast before I’d barely made a dent in my food. Then he sat back and sipped on his blood. At least he ate something. That alone made for a special occasion.