by D. C. Gomez
“Bart, did you know he had a private plane?” I asked Bartholomew, hoping I wasn’t the only one blown away.
“It’s Constantine. I’m sure he has one of everything,” Bartholomew said without an ounce of surprise inflected in his voice. “Come on. I can’t wait to see the inside. I bet he has a gaming station.” I shook my head. Bartholomew was a genius, but he was still a twelve-year-old boy. His priorities were always a little skewed.
“Isis, hurry up. We don’t have all day,” Constantine yelled when I finally climbed out. He was right, though. I did need to hurry.
The crew of the plane unloaded our gear and had already started loading it in the plane. I guessed if you could afford a private jet, you could keep a crew on standby, too.
“Good morning ma’am,” a very friendly crew member said to me. I smiled at him but widened my eyes as I realized his eyes were cat-like. He winked at me and got back to work, leaving me standing with my mouth hanging open. I had a feeling I didn’t want to know who was flying the plane.
If the plane was impressive from the outside, the inside was out of this world. I wondered if Air Force One looked this good. The plane had leather seats, a leather couch on one side, a large screen TV on the back wall, and of course every gaming system imaginable. This was luxury. I thought I was spoiled, but I had nothing on Constantine.
“Boss, we will be ready to take off as soon as all the bags are secure,” a tall, handsome man in a pilot uniform said to Constantine. I glanced at his face and he had blue cat-eyes as well, and he gave me a wink just like the last one had. What was going on today?
“As soon as you are ready, get us in the air. We are on a tight schedule, George,” Constantine told the pilot.
“It will be our pleasure, sir,” George told Constantine before he headed to the cockpit.
Constantine stepped towards the middle of the plane. He jumped on a leather chair and made himself comfortable.
“Isis, take a seat. We need to talk.” Constantine pointed to the chair facing him. There was a small table between the two chairs. Bob took a seat on the other side of the plane. Bartholomew went straight to the back towards the gaming area and started playing.
“Why do I have a feeling this is not going to be a good talk?” I told Constantine as I took my seat.
“It’s not a bad talk,” Constantine said as he licked his paw and wiped his face off. “But since you refuse to read the manual, I need to catch you up on our history.”
“Oh, come on. That isn’t fair,” I mumbled. “Besides, that manual can’t have that much stuff in it. It’s too small.” My protest sounded weak, even to my own ears. Bob shook his head and smiled at me.
“You’re right. This information is located in your year two manual,” Constantine told me. “But considering you didn’t read the first, there is no reason to give you another one. So, here is your audio version.” I was pretty sure Constantine was making fun of me, but I didn’t care.
“Finally. Why didn’t you do this from the beginning?” I told Constantine as I made myself comfortable.
“Everyone, please buckle your seat-belts. We are about to take off,” a sweet female voice said over the intercom.
“Really? No demonstration on how to buckle ourselves. Shouldn’t they at least point out the fire exits?” I asked Constantine as I looked around.
“Are you serious?” Constantine said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “If you haven’t figured out how to buckle your seatbelt at this stage in your life, we have other issues to worry about. Now focus.” Those last words came out in a hiss.
I frowned. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to mess around. “Sorry. I was just joking.”
“Have you heard of the Dark Ages?” Constantine asked me.
“Of course. Everyone has,” I replied.
“Do you know how it started?” Constantine asked.
“It’s been a really long time since I covered world history,” I answered, scrunching my forehead as I tried to remember. “Was it after the Crusades, or some plague that hit Europe?” I wasn’t sure. That time period was not my favorite and honestly it never came up in conversations.
“It was a crusade but not the kind you are thinking,” Constantine said, posing like a Sphinx and staring out the window as the jet started moving. “We are not proud of this part of our history, but hard choices had to be made.” Constantine met my eyes. “It was a time of chaos and humans were hungry for power. They were disorganized and vulnerable, easy prey for most predators. Vampires took advantage of this, multiplying their numbers. It wasn’t enough for them to be able to turn the willing, they wanted to take over the world, so they turned everyone they could, whether they were willing or not. You know what that means?” Constantine paused, watching me hard, as if I held all the answers he was seeking.
It took me a minute to process all that information. “I’m guessing it means Death wasn’t happy?” She couldn’t have been. She hated vampires because the process to become one destroyed the human soul.
“That’s an understatement,” Constantine told me before he gazed out the window again. “It started slowly at first, so we didn’t notice right away. When we did, Death called a meeting with the vampire leader and demanded him to stop what he was doing. Of course, they refused. In their minds, they had found a way to beat death. Hundreds and hundreds of souls were gone and more each day. Death’s fury only grew hotter, and soon she gave them an ultimatum: stop taking souls by force or we would destroy every vampire.” Constantine took a deep breath, but still didn’t look my way.
“Let me guess, they refused,” I said.
“Of course they did. We had no choice, then. We went to war with the vampires,” Constantine almost whispered. “We started recruiting Interns because we needed more people. We were losing bodies each day. Then Death had an idea. What if the Interns had more of her powers? So, she gave them a choice, refusing to force any. Many took the leap, and the Interns became Reapers, bound to Death with superhuman powers and immortality.” His body drooped and he frowned as he finished.
“That doesn’t sound like such a bad deal,” I told Constantine. “Did it help?”
“Oh, it helped,” Constantine said in a positively somber tone. “The Reapers turned the war in our favor. Unfortunately, we learned a little too late that this transformation was not perfect. Like with Death’s gift, the power enhanced the person’s true nature. Some became like guardian angels to humanity. But others became worse than the monsters we were fighting. To stop them, Death had to kill off her own children.” He paused again, and the room grew so quiet I was afraid to move, let alone breathe.
After several seconds, he continued. “The pain was unbearable.” He cleared his throat, like there might be a lump stuck in there from him holding back his sadness. I didn’t know if he spoke of Death’s pain or his own. “In the end, Death asked War to facilitate a peace treaty with the vampires. We would stop hunting them if they stopped turning humans against their will. The vampires agreed, and they went underground. We made a point to avoid them.” Constantine’s eyes were glued to his paws.
“If we promised to avoid them, why are we getting involved?” I asked.
I glanced over and saw Bob leaning against the leather couch he was sitting on, not paying any attention to our conversation.
“The only thing vampires’ fear is Death, and her Reapers of course,” Constantine answered. “With us there, it will ensure that everyone keeps their word.” He didn’t sound very convincing.
“Constantine, what happened to the Reapers?” There was a hesitation in my tone. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure why I asked the question because I didn’t think I really wanted to know the answer.
“The good ones that were left went to sleep with the rest of our Interns,” Constantine said with a smile. I sure hoped sleep truly meant sleep. “An army ready for judgment day.”
“I’m sorry, Constantine.” That was all I could think to say, but even those words felt empty
.
“That was a very long time ago,” Constantine said, his eyes meeting mine once more. “Besides, Death swore she would never make another Reaper again.” Constantine wiped his face with his paw. If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn he was tearing up.
“That’s good, right?” Maybe this horrible story would actually have a happy ending.
“Yes, it is. Unfortunately, now the rumors will start again,” Constantine told me.
“What rumors? Constantine, what are you talking about?” I wanted answers, not all these weird riddles.
“Bartholomew, bring me the case please?” Constantine called back to Bartholomew. “Bob, you might want to get dressed.” Bob jumped out of his chair at the sound of Constantine’s voice.
Bartholomew walked over from the gaming area and placed a sleek, silver briefcase in front of me. Bartholomew opened the briefcase using a finger-print scanner, something he only used for top-secret information, or highly dangerous weapons. It made me wonder if I really wanted to see what was in there, but as the lid raised, all I found was a sleek, silver cylinder, maybe six inches in length.
“That’s it?” The words came out before I could stop them. I couldn’t help it. After all the tense build-up, I had expected much more than just a stick.
“Don’t judge,” Constantine said.
“I need you to grab it with your right hand so I can program your finger print to it.” Bartholomew told me with a smile.
I grabbed the little cylinder and I almost dropped it. It was heavy, so much heavier than I thought it would’ve been, and it felt solid. Before I had a chance to say anything, Bartholomew turned the container a few times in my hand before he pressed my thumb on top of a symbol that looked like an R.
“Hold still for thirty seconds now,” Bartholomew said, his tone more professional than I’d ever heard it. After the time passed, he said, “Good. Now release it.” I did as Bartholomew told me. “Perfect. When I tell you to, press the symbol again.” I looked at the little stick and nodded back to Bartholomew.
“I would recommend doing it in the middle of the plane and away from your face,” Constantine suggested as he moved as far away from me as possible. Bartholomew did the same.
A gnawing worry swam through my stomach. Maybe this was a bomb and they’d just made me arm it. No, they wouldn’t blow me up, and Constantine definitely wouldn’t let me blow his plane up. I stood up and walked to the middle of the plane, making sure I was as far away from the boys as possible. Then, I took a deep breath and pressed the R.
“Oh God!” I screamed, almost dropping the stupid stick. The six-inch cylinder had expanded and morphed to a four-foot-tall scythe. “Holy crap! You’ve got to be kidding me.” My words were far from elegant, but I wasn’t too worried about that right now.
“Isis, meet the weapon of the Reapers,” Constantine told me from the window.
“No wonder the rumors are going to start,” I told him as I stared at the sharpest farming tool I had ever seen in my life. “Why do I have this? Am I becoming a Reaper?” Panic filled my voice. I might not be pure, but I was pretty innocent. The last thing I wanted was to get killed by Death if I turned bad.
“Girl, please. Didn’t I just tell you Death wasn’t going to make any more Reapers?” Constantine gave me an evil glare, his tone high-pitched and full of irritation. It amazed me how fast his moods could change. It always had.
“You did, but why do I have this?” Maybe I wasn’t becoming a super soldier, but I still had this incredibly scary weapon.
“The scythe is the fastest way to send a vampire to their final death,” Constantine said in a matter of fact tone. “You’re going to be facing them and we aren’t taking any chances.”
“I thought we were going to a peace treaty,” I said, hoping he remembered that part.
“We are, but remember, they hate us as much as we hate them,” Constantine said. “Don’t let the weapon out of your sight. To retract, hold the symbol again the same way. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Good. Now you need to learn how to use it.” Constantine barely finished talking when Bob stepped out from the back. He wore what looked like a fencing uniform, padding and all. “Bob is going to be your assistant. We don’t have a lot of time, so pay attention.”
The sound of his voice told me I was in more trouble than I knew.
By the time we landed in Kansas, my arms were burning. It was like being in color- guard tossing a flag around. I did one year of winter-guard in high school, so the movements were not totally foreign to me. The muscle memory came quickly, but the actual muscles did not. I needed to get used to swinging a steel pipe around with a giant blade on one end—not the most natural movement in the world. I was also wondering if I would ever be able to use it. I knew vampires had lost their souls, but as far as I knew, they still looked human. How was I going to know who to chop to pieces?
I didn’t have a lot of time to ponder my dilemma. The plane made its way to the secure hangar away from the commercial airport. It was a little secluded and unless you knew where you were going, most people would likely miss it. I retracted my new toy and tucked it inside my cargo pants, thankful I’d chosen to wear my black combat gear for this mission. Although, after Constantine’s lecture, I wished I had more weapons.
Kansas was a lot cooler than Texas, so I was glad I thought to pack a sweater. The minute we stepped off the plane, a beautiful blonde waved us toward the black SUV she stood beside.
Constantine strolled over to her and shouted, “Katrina, my girl. What are you doing here?”
“Constantine, my man. I’m your transportation today,” Katrina replied with a grin.
“Oh wow. What did you do to get put on the shit list?” Constantine asked Katrina as he climbed on the hood of the SUV, putting him eye level with her. “I knew War was mad at you, but he must be furious to give you a private’s duties.” He shook his head.
“The usual, I guess. War is always mad at me. This one’s a long story,” Katrina replied. “At least he didn’t kill me off and send me to China.” Katrina flashed a weak smile.
“I can’t wait to hear that story.” Constantine faced the rest of us. “Let’s make this quick. Katrina meet the team: Bob, Bartholomew, and Isis.”
“Nice meeting all of you.” Katrina moved in front of each of us and shook our hands. “How does it feel to be Death’s Intern, Isis?” Katrina asked me directly.
Up close, Katrina was even more beautiful. We were about the same height, but total opposites. Katrina had long, curly blonde hair that looked like gold strands in the sun. Her bright green eyes sparkled when she smiled, and she wore a military uniform. I wondered how many people underestimated her due to her beauty. I was staring at her when I realized I hadn’t answered her question.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I managed to mumble. “How did you know I was the Intern?” Normally most people believed Bob was the Intern since he was the most responsible out of the bunch.
“War gave me a copy of your files,” she told me with a smile.
“War has copies of our records? Why?” I didn’t like the sound of that.
“He has a record on all the Interns, calls it precaution,” Katrina told me.
“Oh wow, you are a Colonel. Congratulations.” My cheeks heated with embarrassment. Maybe I should salute her? I wasn’t sure.
“For now, until War decides my punishment and I get downgraded to another army to start over,” Katrina told us. My eyebrows quirked. What had she just said? I looked at Bartholomew and Bob, and both of their faces matched my own. I was glad I wasn’t the only one who was clueless.
“Sorry Colonel, I think you lost us,” I told her, trying to be as respectful as possible.
“Please call me Katrina,” she replied, grabbing one of our bags and loading it into the back of the SUV. I followed suit, and soon, she turned to me. “I assume you don’t know the requirements of War’s Intern?” she asked.
I shook my he
ad.
After the SUV was packed, we all hopped inside. “War only has one Intern at any given time,” Katrina said once we were all inside. “We serve for one-hundred years, in many different counties and military branches. We don’t age, so you can imagine how bizarre that would be to humans. Every so often, or when we screw-up, we move to a different location with a new identity to start over.” Katrina pulled out of the airport and onto the highway.
“How do you blend in?” Bartholomew asked. “No offense, but I’m pretty sure you would stick out in the Chinese army.”
Bartholomew had a point. It didn’t make any sense.
“You can say we stole that trick from Death,” Katrina told us. “Our appearances change depending on what ID we carry at that time. Unlike Death, everyone sees the same person until we decide to change it,” Katrina explained.
“Are you not blonde?” I asked her. Maybe she really didn’t look like Miss America.
“The camouflage doesn’t work with the other horsemen or their people.” Katrina pointed at her body as she spoke. “You are seeing the real me. I just don’t age.”
Bob, Bartholomew, and I all nodded, but inside, I was a bit jealous that Katrina was frozen in time looking like the goddess Venus.
“Great.” Katrina glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard. “The elves requested a new location, so if we are going to make it, we need to hurry.”
“Where are we going, Katrina?” Constantine asked.
“We are going to our more secluded location, the International Negotiation Center,” Katrina told Constantine.
“How bad is it?” Constantine asked
“It’s a delicate situation.” Katrina spoke so softly I almost didn’t hear her.
“What is going on?” That was the first time Bob said anything since leaving the plane.
“Sergeant Johnson, it is you,” Katrina said to Bob, who in turn got very quiet and almost pale. I had no idea Bob’s last name was Johnson. Finally, after a year of knowing him I learned Bob’s last name.
“Have we met?” Bob asked in a shy tone.