“Third door on the left, two floors up.”
“Show me…”
The nurse hits the up-button on the elevator and we enter together. I feel like I should try to make small talk but I know she won’t answer unless it’s a direct question and I’m not looking to get personal with the person I’m controlling.
Getting off two floors up, she guides me toward the supply closet. On the way, I stop by the nursing station and grab a couple of plastic carrying bags.
“Keep look out and stop anyone from coming inside.” I command as we approach the door.
She nods and stands with her back against the wall as I go inside.
On one side of the room there are shelves housing scalpels, boxed latex gloves, antiseptics, antihistamines, anaesthetics, padded bandaging, sutures, hypodermic needles, IV drip essentials, medications, and vats of painkillers.
I take the bags and load up on everything I can find, but I don’t clear the shelves out completely. I only take what is needed.
On the other side is a refrigerator. I rush for it and throw open the door. Hanging inside are multiple blood-bags of different types. I take five of each type along with eight plasma bags from their holders.
“Refrigero,” I mutter and watch as they turn to solid ice. I smile and add them to my bag.
Exiting the room, I have the nurse walk me out of the hospital so I don’t look suspicious.
Once I’m out of the building, I turn her to face me.
“Forget that I was ever here. Got it?”
She nods with a smile. I thank her and once again take off in a run. I get to a long road and start walking in god knows what direction. The bus is undoubtedly already on its way back to the underground and I have to travel five hours without the ability to drive, without Maeve, and with a target on my back.
My stomach grumbles with nerves.
I’m weak, I’m tired, I’ve committed an array of crimes in the past hour including murder, and for the first time since I’ve been out of the academy, I’m officially alone…
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I’ve been walking for an hour, maybe more, and I have no idea where I am. It’s at this point that I consider the need for a smartphone for no other reason than a map.
I’m either one hour closer to the underground or six hours away. It’s hard to tell.
I could hitchhike, but that would require a car to drive past and, so far, none have. My stomach grumbles with hunger and my legs ache.
Another half-hour ticks by before I consider myself officially lost. I’m in the middle of nowhere and the bags of supplies are getting heavy. I want to sit by the road, kick my legs and cry but Maeve is counting on me. If she was here, she would tell me to stop being such a baby and get on with it.
I take her advice and keep going. I refuse to give up because if I do, she’s going to die.
She could be dead, already.
I stop the thought from hitting me and start running.
It’s not long before I come across a small town. The streets are deserted of people but cars are parked everywhere. I pass a diner and my stomach grumbles louder as I look into the window and find three or four people chowing down on what looks to be bacon and toast.
I whine and walk away. There’s a convenience store on the corner and I head for it. The cashier doesn’t even look up when he hears me enter. He’s too engrossed with the crossword puzzle in front of him.
I’m glad because it makes the next part easier...
“Thank God for over-sized hoodies,” Maeve once said, and I’m hoping over-sized bomber jackets have the same effect.
I zip up the jacket and grab two bags of chips off the shelf and a chocolate bar.
So far, so good…
I make my way to the refrigerator and I think I hear him move, but when I check, he’s still behind his desk.
Pulling the door open isn’t easy. It’s stubborn and I have to really put my strength into it. The door finally gives and bounces off the corner of a shelf beside it. A small crack in the glass appears and a loose can of soda hits the ground and fizzes out everywhere.
I eye the clerk again and he’s still not looking at me.
I’m almost relieved that he’s not paying me any attention, but then a strike of unsettling intuition seeps in.
I’ve made a racket, cracked his fridge door and messed up his nice, clean floor… Why hasn’t he looked up?
Maybe I’m paranoid and he really just doesn’t care that much about his store, but my instincts are screaming that I have to get out of here. The only time he looks at me is when I make my way to the door. I push on the handle, but the door won’t budge. I keep pushing and even try to put some magic behind it, but it stalls and I’m trapped.
“Where are you going, Raven-Hill?” The clerk’s mouth pulls up into a wide, yellow-toothed grin. “Of all of the convenience stores in all the world, you come in here? I guess it’s my lucky day.”
I want to panic. I want to scream. I want to get out.
I’m too tired.
“Hunter or witch?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“The names Dalton, honey. Dalton Jacobian.” Pride shines in his eyes as he says his last name and his lips pull up again. “Now, the way I see it, I got two options. I could shoot you with my sawn-off right now and be done with it, or… I could have some fun.” He steps from behind the counter with a big ass talisman around his thick neck and a big ol’ knife in his hairy hand. “This ain’t nothing personal. It’s just the family business, you understand?”
“I understand that your mother and father are probably related,” I quip. “I mean, no offense, but you don’t look like you’re a full carton of eggs, honey.”
Maeve would be proud.
He cracks an amused smile. His teeth are cigarette stained and they’re not a full set, either. “It’s a shame that you’re a disgusting abomination because you are one hot piece of —”
“I’m sorry but are you gonna attack me any time soon, or just gross me out?”
His smile widens. “You know, for a witch who’s powerless right now, you should be begging for your life.”
I snort. “You’re really the best they’ve got? You’ll excuse me if I’m not shaking in my boots.” Taking a breath, I raise my arms and drop them. “Look, I’m tired, hungry and aggravated. I’ve already killed one person today and I don’t feel like adding you to that list, so how about we go our separate ways and you can just not tell uncle-dad or aunt-mom about this?”
His nostrils flare with anger. “Nah, I think I’d like to take you on. You’re powerless, girlie; a weak, human female. I’m a strong man, trained to exterminate your kind. What hope have you got against the likes of me?”
I laugh, unzipping the jacket and letting the stolen goods drop to the floor along with the supplies.
“Oh, I am so gonna kick your ass...”
He lunges for me with his knife and I dodge the attack, jumping back. I make my way back to the fridge area with him hot on my trails.
I back up against the cracked glass and he swipes out against me. Ducking the knife, I grab his arm above my hand and deliver a swift kick to his stomach. He doubles over and I take the opportunity to grapple the knife from him. It doesn’t go to plan and it clatters to the ground. I kick it out of our reach and focus on the hand-to-hand.
I punch him in the face and head-butt him. His surprise lasts merely seconds and unlike Paros, he’s quick in a fight. He’s been trained to fight his entire life and that’s why I’m at a disadvantage.
Delivering another blow to his stomach, I buy myself a few seconds to rip open the fridge door. I stand on my tip-toes and reach for a glass bottle. His arms wrap around my waist and yank me back. I bring the bottle with me and crash it down over his head.
Blood drips from the cuts and his face is red with anger.
“You stupid bitch!” He strikes out and I’m not quick enough. The blow makes my ear ring and burn. My head swims as I stumble back
and a second blow comes, putting me down.
He stands over me with one leg at either side. I reach out to punch him but he catches my arm and twists it. My body twists with it and I’m lying face down on the ground, crying with the pain of my already dislocated shoulder snapping in two.
“I thought you was gonna kick my ass, girlie?” He laughs. “You think cause you been learning some fancy fighting skills that you’re a match for the Jacobian hunters?”
He kicks me in the side and all of my air is knocked out of me. I wheeze as he pulls back and kicks me again.
The pain is excruciating and exhilarating.
I laugh as a third blow comes. The anger inside me may not be magic, but it sure as hell is powerful.
Rolling onto my back, I lift my legs in the air and deliver a double-foot kick to his abdomen. It’s strong enough to take him off his feet as I spring to mine. Zhavia’s teachings tell me to bide my time and dance with him rather than fight, paying special attention to surrounding area and how he could use it against me.
I wait for him to get up because a quick survey of the surroundings lets me know of six different ways he could gain the upper hand.
Once he’s on his feet, he charges for me and an idea lands in my head. I have to wait until the moment’s right and pray that I have the skill down to do it. He comes at me with his arm out and tries to snake it around my neck. It’s a mistake on his part.
I smile, grabbing a fist full of his ratty, old T-shirt with one hand and his shoulder with the other. I tighten my grip and drop onto my back, flipping him over me. My intent is to get on top, but I’m not learned enough to get there. Somehow I messed up and now he’s crushing me… I have to rethink my strategy. I reach up and wrap my legs around his body, squeezing my thighs like a python clasps it’s pray.
He laughs again and it’s sickening to me. “Why don’t you make yourself useful while you’re there and – “
I punch him square in the jaw and it shuts him up for a moment, giving me enough time to plan my next move.
I eye the open fridge door and take a breath. I rock on his body and play it off as weakness; like I’m not strong enough to keep him down. I pray he takes the bait and he does. He thinks I’ve slackened my grip because I’m a weak little girl. He rocks with me, thinking that he’s gaining the upper hand, and I have to stop myself from smiling.
Once we’ve built up enough momentum, I throw myself back and vice my thighs around him once more, bringing him with me. I roll onto the top of my shoulders, crying out with the pain, and I use the strength I’ve built in my legs to propel him through the air and if my aim is right…
Crash!
He goes head first through the fridge door and lands on his back. I spring to my feet again and search out the knife.
It’s under a one of the units holding the shelves of products. Keeping my sights trained on him as I reach for it on my knees, I feel around for it with my hand. I can’t seem to find it. Groaning, I put my head to the floor and see where it is. My hand finally grabs it as I hear him on the move. I look up just in time to dodge the kick aimed at my face.
Rolling forward, I pass him and spring to my feet.
The next bit happens to fast that I barely have time to take it in. I spin to face him as he advances and I once again dodge his attacks. I jab at him with the knife but he’s too well guarded and he moves too quickly.
I plunge the knife from the top, but he catches my arms above my head. I kick out my right leg and he lets go of me.
I spin around, waving the knife out, and feel it connect. I turn; ready to see him angry and bleeding, but as my eyes take in the scene, my hand clutches at my mouth. I look down to the blade and find it covered with a thick coating of deep crimson.
He grabs at his neck to stop the blood from spewing, but it’s hopeless. His hands drop and I’m splattered with it.
Reaching out, I grab the talisman and snap it in two. My power returns to me and I watch as he chokes slowly on his own blood. I focus on him and twist my hand until a crack rings out and he falls to the ground.
“It didn’t have to be this way,” I say to his body.
Grabbing more supplies from the shelves, I make my way to the cash register and take every dime. Then, I search for the security camera footage and discover happily that the camera is only for show. Under the desk I find a set of keys with the logo of a Mercedes etched into them.
“Hunters ride in style, it seems.”
With my bags swinging from my wrists, a can of soda in one hand and his keys in the other, I exit through the back door and come out into an alley.
“Oh damn it!” I sigh, seeing three more hunters arriving in two more matching Mercedes’.
“It’s her!” I hear one of them yell and roll behind the vehicle, ducking gunshots. My only way of getting out lies in the hope that they don’t have talismans, or if they do, that I’m too far away for them to work.
“Only one way to find out…” I stand up and wait for them to aim. I hold out my hand and watch as the bullets flying through the air suddenly slow to a stop and reverse direction on my command. They fly through the air faster than they came and only one of the hunters is able to dodge them. The other two fall to the ground with shots to the head and chest.
I’m left facing off with the only girl hunter I’ve came into contact with so far.
“How old are you?” I ask as she points a gun at me.
“Why do you care, witch?” She bites. “I’m going to kill you no matter what my age is!”
I see her hands tremble as if the metal is too heavy for her to hold. Her hair is made up of fine, blond strands pulled into two pig-tails. She’s thin, dressed in denim overalls and she can’t be more than four-foot tall.
“You’re just a kid,” I sigh. “Nine or ten, I’d bet… No more than twelve.”
“Shut up!” She screams, her ice blue eyes glazing over with tears. “I’m old enough!”
“To end a life? You’re never old enough!” I tell her. “I was younger than you when I killed my first … It changes you.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Her hands shake harder.
“Have you done it yet?” I ask, stepping forward. “Have you killed someone?”
She bites her lip and shakes her head.
“You know you can’t kill me, right?” I take another step. “I won’t let you.”
She nods.
“And you know that I don’t want to have to kill you…” I step closer. “Why don’t you run, kid? Go home! Or take off somewhere. Another town, maybe? Find a family to take you in… live a normal life?”
“How?”
I’m in front of her now and the gun is pointed right at my heart. If she pulls the trigger, I’ll drop… but I don’t think she wants to.
“You’re trained to die for your families cause... so go survive for your own. No more training, no more pain. Just go be a kid…”
The girl gnaws at her lip and backs away from me. Dropping to the floor with the gun still aimed at my chest, she feels around; her eyes not once leaving mine.
I put my hands up, like she’s a cop, to let her know that I’m not a threat.
“Are you looking for the car keys? They’re a little to your left,” I tell her. “I won’t hurt you, I promise, just look down…”
She scoffs like she doesn’t believe me, but her eyes flick down anyway. It only takes a moment for her to grab the keys from the dead body of her family member. She stands up, the gun still on me, and makes her way to one of the cars.
Her head nods in my direction and I watch in awe as the little kid jumps into the driver seat of the second Mercedes and pulls out of the alleyway.
Ransacking the third for weapons, I find two duffel bags full of guns and knives and put them in the boot of the car that I’m stealing.
The kid made it look easy, and I convince myself it’s not as hard as Maeve made it seem.
“If a less-than-twelve year old can do it, then s
o can I!” I try to convince myself.
Hopping into the driver’s seat, I turn the ignition key. The engine roars to life and I’m thrilled to discover that the car is an automatic engine.
“Hell yes!” No dreaded clutch! Rejoice!
Putting pedal to the metal, as nobody says anymore, I’m on the road and driving full speed ahead to save a life.
I just hope that I’m not too late…
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Driving is much harder than it looks! I’ve almost swerved off the road ten or twenty times in the past two hours.
My main problem is keeping my eyes straight and focused. I’ve decided that there are so many things that are more entertaining than driving. Stumping your toe or knocking your elbow, for instance.
I guess I can imagine this being fun in a ‘road trip’ capacity with two or three friends to keep you awake and laughing, but on your own... I’m not sure that it’s for me.
My shoulder is aching and my face is starting to swell so bad that I question how gross it would be to use one of the frozen blood bags as an ice-pack.
“Screw it!” I decide and place one to my face as I drive. It’s not a smart decision because driving one handed seems to be more dangerous than two, but at this point if I want my eyes to remain wide open, I need to get the swelling down.
The navigation system tells me that I am an hour and a half away from Denver, and then a monotone voice rings out to tell me to switch lanes and I gulp down a nervous lump.
I use the blinker thingy to signal left and end up signalling right by mistake.
“Shit!” I mutter pushing it all of the way in the opposite direction.
Next, I check my mirrors to check the traffic behind me, but as I check my left mirror, my hands turn the wheel automatically and I’m drifting along with my eyes.
Beeps ring out and multiple fingers are shown to me. I try to apologize but it’s useless. They hate me and have no problem letting me know.
“I spy with my little eye a lot of birds…”
SACRIFICIUM (THE UNDERGROUND Book 1) Page 14