SACRIFICIUM (THE UNDERGROUND Book 1)

by Allie Doherty

  We come to the top of a hill and I am so excited I can barely contain myself. As we’re running down, Maeve’s strides become elongated to accommodate the steep slope. I try to do the same but the cart is damn near flying through the air and I can no longer control my impulse. Maybe it’s the stereotypical witch in me, but I want to fly too…

  My grin is wide as I jump on the back of the cart, letting myself go completely. I scream out, but for the first time in a long time, it’s not in fear or an attempt to force my power… It’s the kind of scream that people make when they’re feeling indestructible and buzzed out on adrenaline.

  I feel that high and it’s addictive. I never want to come down.

  I hear Maeve laughing behind me as she tries to keep up. I look back at her and stick out my tongue which makes her laugh harder. I throw my middle finger back, letting her know that no matter how hard she tries, her legs aren’t long enough to reach the bottom before my cart does.

  Finally, the hill becomes an even road and the cart slows down. Jumping off, I place my feet back on the ground and keep going until the truck comes into view and I have to stop running.

  I bend over and grasp my knees, panting like a dog. It’s the first time I’ve ever been tired from something physical and not magical. It’s amazing.

  “That was insane!” I holler out. “I want to do it again.”

  Maeve giggles and coughs. Her lungs are protesting the exercise just as much as mine.

  “Take it easy, T! One step at a time… Next up: a face piercing or a tattoo.”

  It’s my turn to giggle.

  I push the cart toward the truck and help unload the supplies onto the back.

  “Is that everything?” I ask, opening the passenger door and taking my seat and she nods. I breathe hard and play with the knob on the radio. It takes a while for the static to turn into music and a fun, summery song comes on. It’s something that my friend, River, would play and it’s not my usual taste, but I don’t care. My good mood compels me to nod my head and even dance a little in my seat.

  Maeve gets into the driver's side and slams the door. She adjusts her sitting position and then looks at me. As if on cue, both of us snort and break down into hysterics about the wild shit we just pulled.

  “So,” she says, turning the key in the ignition and adjusting the rear-view mirror. “About those guys…”

  CHAPTER SIX

  She was not going to drop it.

  Thirty-five minutes on the road and the questions were never-ending. I put my hands to my ears in hopes that she would get the hint, but it’s useless. Instead of shutting up, she rolls her eyes and continues her interrogation louder.

  “Ok, so which one were you giving the eyes too?” She asks

  “What?” I shake my head with a groan. “What eyes? What’re you talking about? What does that even mean? Why does it matter? You see how annoying that many questions are when they’re thrown at you?”

  “So answer them and I’ll stop asking…”

  “Fine. Answer one: No, I was not flirting. Answer two: No, they didn’t ask for my number. Answer three: No, I don’t want either of their children…” It goes like that for what feels like forever until I finally get to the last question she asked. “Answer eighteen: I wasn’t giving ‘eyes’ to either of them! There, are we done?”

  She scoffs. “Nope! I don’t accept any of those answers. Those guys were hot and you were talking to them for like five whole minutes! I saw them for thirty seconds and I had named all of our kids. There’s no way that you – “ She stops talking. Her mouth pulls down and her expression darkens as she checks her right side-mirror.

  Electric pulses shoot up and down my spine and I can feel every nerve ending in my body set on edge.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing, I think I’m being paranoid…” I want to accept that at face value, but there’s a trembling note in her voice that tells me she doesn’t believe her own words, and so I can’t either.

  “What, exactly, are you being paranoid about?”

  “That car back there…” She nods towards the mirror. “The black rover with the silver bumper… I swear it’s been following us since we left the store. The dead guy’s estate is the only place around here for miles. I kept waiting for it to turn off at some point, but it hasn’t.”

  I turn to look at the car and notice two men staring back at me with faces like thunder. They see me see them and the driver points in my direction.

  My heart pounds as I watch him whisper frantically to his co-pilot. I wonder what they’re saying… Closing my eyes, I search for my power. Once I have it in my grasp, I pray they’re not too far away and concentrate. Imagining my magic as a radio frequency, I push it out of me and hone in on them. The noise of the truck dissipates from my hearing, as does Maeve’s panicking voice and red hot static fills my ears. I push harder, focusing as much of my energy as I can on the rover following us until I can hear the muffled whispers of the two men. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to turn up the volume. It’s all drowned out by the static and I can only make out bits and pieces of what they’re saying; which adds up to nothing concrete.

  There’s too much distance between the cars…

  “Slow down,” I tell Maeve with my eyes still closed. “Let them catch up.”

  “Are you insane?” She exclaims. “You want me to slow our truck down, on a road in the middle of nowhere, so that two middle-aged men can catch up? Hell no! Don’t you watch Law and Order: SVU? That is how people get murdered!”

  “Just do it!” I tell her again. My body jolts with energy and, suddenly, she’s slowing down without argument or hesitation. “Oh, shit!”

  I wave my hand in front of her face and click my fingers in her ear. She doesn’t move. The lights are on no one home, and her blank stare stays on the road ahead of her.

  She’s under my control.

  I hate taking away a person’s free will and I felt guilty the second we connected. Her energy vibrates through me like it’s my own. It’s rough, sad and secretive, but easy to manipulate. I could make her do anything right now…

  I could even take her life, if I wanted to, and the thought of that scares me. No one should have the power to do that…

  But I can’t dwell on it right now – I have to focus.

  The car is within range now and I try again, gearing my ear to the side for a better listening experience.

  “You think they know we’re after them?” The gruff voice belongs to the one in the passenger seat.

  “It don’t matter if they do, they’re about to be dead soon. Goddamn witches!” The driver practically growls. “I hate the freaks.”

  “I don’t think the second one’s a witch, Devon.”

  “I don’t give a rat's ass! She’s aiding a witch and should die like one.” He’s cold and unaffected by the thought of killing an innocent mortal. “Hold on, Mitch. I think that shifty little bitch is listening in…”

  My eyes whip open and I see him snarl. His bald head moves forward into the light and his eyes connect with mine. From where I’m sitting, they’re almost black and they’re glaring at me. He sits back and I know what’s about to happen.

  “Speed up, now!” I tell Maeve, who jumps instantly to my command. The truck begins racing down the long, winding road.

  I watch as Mitch’s arm reaches into the backseat and pulls out a sawn-off shotgun. He’s hanging out of the window and all he’s waiting for is a good angle to aim at. His black, shoulder length hair is blowing in the wind and his somewhat young face is alight with excitement as he searches for an opening. He secures one and the smirk at his lips it turns to a full-blown grin.

  “Go faster, Maeve!”

  Maeve’s foot pushes the accelerator as far down as it’ll go and the truck is in its highest gear. We’re moving so fast that everything I see through the window is passing us as one big blur. I hear the first round let off and duck my head on instinct. It’s so close that it hits the side mir
ror and blows it off completely.

  My heart-rate triples in speed as a second-round rings out; shattering the back window and blowing a hole through the dashboard, causing steam to erupt from the engine.

  We’re approaching a sharp bend in the road and I take a deep breath. The rover is closer than ever and Maeve is not slowing down. I want to tell her to take it easy – to take the corner with caution – but as the third round fires and one of our tires blow, I realize that I don’t have that option.

  Suddenly, it’s like everything around me is moving slowly. I move my head to the side and see the fourth shell moving through the air beside me; right in-between Maeve and me. Then, as if someone presses play on the DVD of my life, the shell whips past us and takes out the front windscreen.

  I let out a yelp and my breathing increases so much, my head pulsates and black invades my sight. Panic rips through me and my stomach explodes into nervous dread as I see his arm rise again; the metal extension pointed in the direction of Maeve’s head.

  I can hear his thoughts as clearly as I can hear my own. He’s thinking that if he takes Maeve out on the corner at this speed, then the car flips and the situation – me – is taken care of.

  My heart is beating so hard, it nearly breaks through my ribcage and lands in my hand. I taste blood in my mouth and only now do I realize that I’m biting my lip. I swallow the iron tang and search my head for an idea.

  Mostly, all I can hear is an affirmation that we’re about to die.

  I keep searching. Praying for any sort of Hail-Mary thought that could get us out of the situation until something finally pops into my mind.

  “Slow down,” I tell Maeve and she obeys without pause. They weren’t expecting us to do that and I see the shock on Devon’s face as his front bumper collides with the back of the truck. Mitch’s perfect aim is compromised as his body jerks forward and it buys me the time I need to come up with the next part of the plan.

  “Slow down more,” I command and again the two cars collide, harder this time – so hard that it throws me forward into the dashboard. I put out my hands to block the impact and feel the twinge in my wrist as it twists against the hard material and I cry out in pain.

  Maeve doesn’t make a sound. She just keeps driving and it’s not until I look at her do I see the dark red liquid leaking like a busted faucet from her misshapen nose. I gasp and look to the steering wheel – it’s coated in her blood.

  My gut twinges but I don’t have time to feel guilty. I look behind us to find that this time, his aim isn’t just disrupted, it’s gone… he let go of the shotgun and it dropped with a thud into the middle of the road.

  The anger on his face is tangible. He looks to the backseat and he’s debating getting another weapon.

  Instead, he tells his partner to speed up and now, we’re bumper-to-bumper. They’re trying to run us off the road as the corner fast approaches. I smile, knowing exactly what to do next – I just have to wait for the right time to do it.

  The sharp bend is a couple of meters in front of us, now and their smug faces tell me that they think they’ve won. I act scared, to give them a false sense of success – only it’s not an act and I am terrified. If this doesn’t work, we’re dead, just like that – lights out, forever.

  One-and-a-half meters from the bend...

  One meter…

  Half a meter...

  And it’s time.

  “Swerve to the left, now!” I yell and Maeve obeys. The truck is now on the other side of the road and the rover passes us. They slam on the breaks and the screech of the tires is deafening. They slow to a stop just at the right moment.

  I smirk, giving them a moment to think they’ve pulled it off and enjoy their last few seconds… until their doors lock and they’re trapped.

  I push the truck door open and get out.

  Leaving Maeve in her seat, I watch from the road. They’re panicking, now, and searching for a way out of the car. They’re kicking the windows and pushing at the doors as hard as they can, refusing to believe that there’s no way out. Their persistence is admirable, but proves futile.

  I should be second guessing what I have planned, but all mercy I had left my body when the windscreen obliterated. I can practically taste their fear and it’s delicious.

  Closing my eyes, I focus. Their engine roars to life and revs thrice on my command. I kick the gear into reverse and bring them from the edge – like the sweet solace of an even stretch of track of a rollercoaster, right before the drop.

  They’re so far back from the edge that their eyes collide with mine. I smirk, lift my hand, and wave goodbye.

  The engine revs once more as the car kicks into first gear and jolts forward. It’s building momentum; flying through second, third and fourth until the rover is hurtling full speed towards the bend. I watch at they both grab for the wheel, trying desperately to take control. It’s locked and they’re going straight, no possibility of survival. Only when they’re passed the turn-off point do I allow them to steer; as anticipated, they don’t think their decision through and the wheel is turned so fast to the side that the rover begins to spin out of control – and that is when I lock the wheel once more and slam on the breaks.

  I watch with a smile as the car tumbles through the air. It rolls five or six times but it feels like twenty and when it finally lands, wheels up, I’m satisfied they’re either dead or badly injured.

  I make my way across the road and carefully drop down into the ditch, mud covering the bottom of my leggings. The car is smoking, but it’s not on fire. I approach with caution, just in case it decides to blow.

  The first thing that I see is the shattered glass stained with blood, and the pungent smell of leaking gas fills my nostrils. I reach the passenger seat window and observe the damage. The young one – Mitch – is dead. I’m sure of it. Thick black blood is oozing out of a gaping head wound and if that wasn’t bad enough, his neck is snapped so badly that the bones are poking out of the skin.

  I look past his body to Devon’s. He’s in a bad state too, but I can’t be certain from this angle. I make my way around the rover and drop to my knees again. His neck is intact but he doesn’t look like he’s breathing. There’s a lot of blood but I can’t tell if it’s his or Mitch’s. I shake my head, knowing my next move could possibly be extremely stupid, but it’s also necessary. I reach out my shaking hand and press two fingers to his neck, checking for a pulse.

  I can’t feel anything and I’m about to let the relief sink in when his body coughs and sputters to life. I jump back. Swallowing deep breaths, he wheezes as though breathing is painful and opens his eyes.

  When he sees me, he smiles and it makes my heart pound.

  “You think you’ve won?” He laughs and it turns to a cough. Blood spews from his mouth and stains his teeth. “You’ve won nothing! We aren’t the only two after you, you know? The Witches, the Demons, the Hunters; they’re all coming for you! And when they catch up, you’re gonna die screaming, bitch.”

  I push air through my nose and smirk. “You first…”

  Closing my eyes, I focus on his bones – the ones that aren’t already broken – and start with his toes. He lets out a horrific scream as I snap each one. I smile, enjoying the pain that I’m inflicting on the man sent to kill me and work my way up his body. After his feet are his legs and arms. His suffering is so bad; I can almost feel it myself. I wince as I snap his collarbone and I hear him expel an ear-splitting squeal.

  “Please!” He begs. “Please just get it over with!”

  I don't see why I should. After all, if I was going to die screaming, why shouldn’t he?

  Because you’re not the same as them. The thought startles me out of my rage. It’s not my voice but it’s in my head and gives me a semblance of tranquillity. The pleading eyes of my next kill are on me and the words ring true. His eyes are tree-bark-green-almost-black and even now, as he’s dying, they’re filled with hatred.

  I could never be that twiste
d.

  Putting my hand up, I part my fingers and close my eyes. I think about the bones of his spine and force my hand into a tight ball, finger by finger. The cracks ring out and I flinch as I hear them. As each of my fingers close, another bone in his spine snaps and by the time the ball is complete, he’s dead.

  I’m about to stand up when my eye catches the birthmark on his chest. It’s the same one I saw on the hunter in the meadow. I pull his button up T-shirt back to reveal the whole mark and my eyes squint to get a better view – it’s dark brown, the same colour as a mole, and its round. It looks like a bunch of circles drawn around each other moving outwards but none are complete. They’re all missing a piece – the connecting curve at the top – and as the circles get bigger, the gaps get wider. In the middle of the mark, is a small filled in dot with a line through it.

  I pull out my cell-phone – It’s old and the camera on it is awful, but it’s the only one the academy would let me possess – take a picture and place it back in my pocket. Then, I step back, stand tall and focus on the fast-emptying gas tank. The petroleum it’s spewing is covering all of the surrounding area and makes my next task easy.

  All it needs is a spark.

  I make my way in the direction of the truck until I feel far enough from the rover to feel safe.

  Channelling my power through my hands, I imagine the fire in my mind and state my command. When I know I’ve got it, I snap my fingers and watch as the flame ignites and spreads across the dirt and grass. Moving fast, it hits gas tank and the rover explodes, creating a giant cloud of thick, black smoke.

  I finally take a much-needed sigh of relief and let my power settle back into a barely noticeable buzz, until the next time it’s needed. With it, I feel my tether to Maeve snap and release her from my control.

  The door on the driver side of the truck opens with a squeak and shuts with a slam. Heavy footprints make their way over to me and I bite my lip. I turn to face her, just as her mouth opens and see she has her arms crossed and her eyebrow raised.

  “What, in the deepest circle of hell, just frickin’ happened?”