Authors: Lynnie Purcell
Three steps separated the inside from the heavy door leading outside. The interior walls were rusted and pitted from years at sea. Row upon row of living quarters was spaced throughout the seemingly endless corridors. Most of the rooms were small and perfect for one or two people, though they hadn’t been meant for Watchers, who generally were considered short at six feet tall. The largest rooms by far were the galley and the area they had once used to use to hold cargo. Most people hung out in the cargo area, when they weren’t out on missions. The galley was mainly used by Spider and Alex – they were the only two on board who ate. Reaper also used it…when he was certain Alex was not going to be in there, and he could have the space to himself. It was the one place he could gather his ‘generals’ without the noise of the others bogging the meeting down.
When we entered the galley, Reaper was leaning close to his laptop, reading the screen with a purposeful stare. His raven-black hair was pulled back in a knot at the nape of his neck, and his silver eyes were lost in the information on the screen in front of him. I thought at first he didn’t notice our entrance, but then he held up a finger, to tell us to wait a moment. He quickly typed something, a response to whatever he had been reading, and then shut the screen.
“Are we interrupting?” I asked.
“Always,” Reaper teased with a smile.
Reaper’s eyes moved to Jackson, not only because Jackson took up most of the doorway. Reaper had a question for him – the question of someone that had to focus on business first and a reunion second.
“I’m glad to see you safe,” Reaper said. “Is Preacher on board? I would like to speak with him about some things that have come up in his absence.”
“He’s keeping an eye on things for us,” Jackson said.
“Oh. Of course,” Reaper said.
Jackson looked around the galley, getting his bearings in the unfamiliar surroundings. His smile was firmly in place as he eyed the rusted ship – he obviously found something funny. Perhaps it was a memory we were not privy to or the idea that we were brave enough to weather the sea in such an old vessel. The silence stretched for a moment as Reaper looked to Jackson to start the conversation, to fill us in on what he had found out. Daniel nudged Jackson in the arm with a roll of his eyes.
“Would you spit it out?” Daniel asked.
“Spitting is a disgusting habit,” Jackson said. “I never do it.”
Jackson grinned at us, thinking he was funnier than he was. I sighed and waited for him to get to the point. Daniel laughed at the expression on my face. Jackson finally had enough of playing around. He was serious in a second.
“The fortress is…a fortress,” Jackson said.
“Thanks for that,” Reaper said dryly.
“The fortress is actually built in to the mountain,” Jackson continued. “There are no places on the ground level that are easily accessible. Their venting is up high and not easily gotten to with the usual means. They have rotating patrols, so that the landscape is always covered. When one patrol goes out of range of an area, another patrol has eyes on it. In a word, it is ‘impenetrable.’”
Jackson’s words fell hard on Daniel’s emotions. His face fell, and his green eyes took on a darkness I had seen more often than I was comfortable. It was the darkness of lost hope. He was afraid rescuing his parents was impossible. If Reaper noticed the emotion on Daniel’s face, he didn’t mention it. Reaper focused on what was possible, instead of what was not.
“Do you have a hiding place near the building?” Reaper asked Jackson.
Jackson nodded.
“We found a cave near the fortress,” Jackson said. “The patrols haven’t found it yet and Preacher has been keeping an illusion up to make it look like a part of the mountain. He said that someone skilled in illusion would be able to tell it’s there, but no patrols have come looking yet.”
“Very well,” Reaper said. “A small group of us will go to the cave and check out the area. I can only come up with a plan if I know what I am dealing with. Not that I don’t trust your opinion, but seeing is believing.”
“Suit yourself,” Jackson agreed. “When did you want to leave?”
“Give me fifteen minutes to get everything in order,” Reaper said. “Go ahead and call Margaret and Preacher back. I’ll have some of my people keep an eye out while Sara takes us to your cave.”
“Is Sara back?” I asked curiously.
Sara and Shawn, our resident taxis – walkers who could shift between one place and the next and appear anywhere instantly as long as they had a visual – had been taking people around the world per Reaper’s orders since we had first boarded the ship two weeks ago. There were still missions to go on and things Reaper needed to take care of around the world, if he was going to keep the Saints in a good position to take on Marcus when the time finally came. Daniel and I been taken by Sara and Shawn on our share of missions, and I had gone to see Ellen, to let her know where we were headed. I had promised to keep her informed. It wasn’t just her. Ellen, Sam, and Naomi were keeping the kids for us while we traveled to Alaska. The kids were not happy about staying out of the action, but Spider and I had both agreed that after the fight at Lorian’s, and the consequent violence that had resulted, the risk of keeping the kids around was too great. Spider wasn’t going anywhere – I wouldn’t have forced him to – but the others weren’t as geared toward our world as Spider. They deserved a chance at happiness. Ellen, Sam, and my de-facto aunt, Naomi, were the perfect people to give them that happiness.
Reaper nodded at my question. “Sara got back while you were topside.”
“So, King is back?” I asked.
“Yeah…” Reaper agreed. “Why?”
“Oh. No reason,” I said, not able to keep my voice normal for a second.
Lying was not my forte; it never had been. The only time I was good at lying was when other people’s lives depended on it and even then, I sometimes faltered.
Daniel’s eyes immediately moved to my face at my words. He didn’t need any other clue to know I had a reason for wanting to see King, one I didn’t want to share with him. I hadn’t mentioned my reason to him, and he instantly thought the reason I was keeping it secret was more connected to my emotions than I was letting on. I mentally cursed myself for mentioning King in front of him.
“I’ll go find Margaret and Preacher, then,” Jackson said, oblivious to Daniel’s look and Reaper’s curiosity at the unspoken question in Daniel’s eyes, and the refusal to answer them in mine.
“Fifteen minutes,” Reaper repeated.
Jackson nodded, and we moved out of his way, to let him walk back out to the hall of the ship.
“Who do you think we should take with us?” I asked. “To the cave, I mean.”
Daniel was still staring at me, but he answered my question in a calm voice. Whatever he was thinking, he was unwilling to let it affect our planning. He was business as usual.
“Me, you, Jackson, Margaret, Preacher, Reaper, Alex and Spider,” he said.
“Spider?” I questioned.
“Yes,” Daniel agreed.
“Why?” I asked. “What’s he gonna do? Steal a stalagmite?”
“We need him there. I feel…” he hesitated as he searched for a way to articulate his emotions on the subject. “I feel like it’s important.”
I realized I was not the only one keeping secrets. He had a vision he hadn’t shared with me, one that was about the mission we were about to go on. I trusted his secret keeping was for as good a reason mine was…or at least I hoped it was.
“Okay,” I agreed.
“So, it’s settled then?” Reaper asked.
“Unless you want to take some of your people?” Daniel asked.
“You
are
my people,” Reaper pointed out.
I smiled at his words.
“Awwww, you totally love us,” I teased.
Reaper didn‘t respond to my teasing, though his eyes did soften.
“If that’s all, I have a couple of things I need to talk to River about…and I need to make sure everyone is ready. I don’t want any surprises,” Reaper said.
“Of course,” Daniel said. “We’ll be in our room when you’re ready to go.”
Reaper nodded and gathered his things from the table. He passed us, headed to the control room. Daniel took my hand and pulled me down the hall to the small room we shared. At first, I thought he was going to ask me about my strangeness with King, but he had bigger issues on his mind.
He sat down on the bed and put his elbow on his knee. After a second, he placed his chin on his hand. The pose was pensive and ultimately sad. He looked at the floor for a long moment – the sadness radiated from his body – then he spoke.
“Impenetrable,” Daniel whispered sadly as if he thought speaking the word made it true.
I sighed and sat down next to him. The word had bothered me as well, but I knew nothing was impenetrable, not as long as what we wanted was on the other side of ‘impenetrable.’
“You know how Jackson is,” I said. “I’m sure it’s an exaggeration.”
“Jackson does not exaggerate about defenses. He’s been trained to be accurate,” Daniel said.
“‘Accurate’ doesn’t meant ‘right,’” I argued.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” he said.
“Words are subjective, Daniel,” I said. “Jackson says ‘impenetrable,’ you say ‘kinda hard,’ I say ‘let’s go for it.’ We all have different opinions on things. Don’t freak out until you see the place for yourself.”
He thought about that for a moment. My words had given him hope.
“You’re right,” he finally said.
I smirked at him. “I know.”
His mouth twitched with his impulse to smile. He smothered the impulse and another serious question formed on his lips.
“Have you had any more dreams?” he asked.
I turned my head away from him – our faces had been close as we talked, close enough for us to kiss – and looked at the wall. It was barren and ugly but infinitely better than looking at him and admitting my fears. The truth was that I had been forcing myself to stay awake, despite my regular exhaustion after long and difficult missions. The dreams were too real simply to set them aside. Even with the desire to stay awake fueling me, I sometimes lost the battle. I was still too human not to sleep occasionally. The dreams were consistently scary; I had forgotten what a good dream looked like.
My last dream had been terrifying. More than terrifying – real.
I was in New York – I recognized the location as Time’s Square, tourist city. There was a naked cowboy playing on the corner, tourists stopping to take pictures of the buildings, of the cowboy, anything they could take pictures of; others were walking at a brisk pace to get home after a long day at work. It was the afternoon. The wind was crisp. The remains of a snowstorm piled along the edges of the sidewalk. It had turned brown from the traffic.
For some reason, I was running toward a building. My legs were soaked from the snow and my breath came in heaving gasps. My heart pounded hard with adrenaline and fear. Something bad was about to happen. I could feel in my bones. I was running out of time as much as I was running toward the unknown.
Then…the world stopped. My vision dissolved in to a world of white and the sound of ringing. The tourists and the people had changed in to a nightmare. Chaos was king. Dead people were everywhere. Those who were still alive had blood running out of their eyes, ears, and nose. Blood shattered the peace of the city. In my heart, I knew everything had changed forever.
Daniel was waiting on my response. He was waiting to hear what horror I had dreamed up. It wasn’t just because my dreams felt real…they had a way of being true. He was convinced I was developing the same kind of gift for premonition he had. I was convinced nothing good could come of that gift; the only things I ever dreamed were of disasters. The disasters were stalking my dreams as much as Marcus, to the point where I didn’t know where Marcus ended and the disasters began.
I wanted to tell him ‘no.’ I wanted to tell him that I had dreamed of us on a beach somewhere, relaxed and having fun, but that lie was dangerous. Beyond that, I couldn’t lie to Daniel and get away with it…not for long. Not that I really wanted to. Lies had torn us apart once. I would not let them again.
“Yes,” I said.
He put a hand on my chin and gently forced me to look at him.
“You have to talk about it, Clare. It’s the only way to face what you see.”
“Says the guy who doesn’t talk about most of his visions,” I said.
“I’ve told you the important ones,” he said.
“Who says?” I asked.
He frowned. “Don’t go there,” he said.
“Where?”
“Accusing me of lying, just because you don’t want to talk about your scary dreams,” he said.
“Talking about it makes it real,” I said. “It breathes life in to the vision.”
“I’m probably the only person you know who has the power and knowledge to interpret your dreams and stop them from happening,” Daniel pointed out.
“I know…” I sighed.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said.
“So, tell me…” he urged.
He put his hand on my cheek, extra incentive to spill the beans. His green eyes were full of just the right amount of pleading and encouragement.