Authors: Adrian Howell
Cat said firmly, “I’m not leaving.”
“There, you see?” Randal smiled at the puppeteer. “Nothing to worry about. Cathy is an Angel through and through.”
I could think of no excuse to delay, so I meekly followed Randal Divine out of his motorhome. Randal led us through the center of the Angel camp, with Cat and me behind him and the puppeteer bringing up the rear. The camp was bustling with activity now that the witnesses were all back from the battle. Dinner was probably going to be some kind of celebration for today’s victory. Some of the Angels pointed and stared at us, but Randal Divine led us safely toward the south side of the motorhome barrier.
Cat walked beside me, but neither of us spoke. There seemed to be nothing further to discuss. I was running out of time. Where were the Guardians?!
When the four of us reached the south end of the camp, there was nothing left to do but say goodbye.
“Come on, Cat,” I pleaded. “This is your last chance. We don’t even have to go back to the Guardians if you don’t want to. Just come with me, and we can leave this awful war behind.”
“And where would we go, Adrian?” asked Cat. “We can’t leave the war if you take me back to live with the Guardians. So where would we go?”
Where indeed? If it didn’t mean saying goodbye to a few very close people, I would have happily left the Guardians. But perhaps that was how it was for Cat as well.
Cat touched my arm. “Would you really leave the Guardians, Adrian?”
I remained silent, and Cat said, “You see? We can never leave this war.”
“But we don’t have to become enemies, Cat.”
“Then join us.”
I shook my head.
Cat smiled sadly. “We already are enemies, aren’t we?”
I took a deep breath, and nodded slowly. Perhaps it was better this way. Whatever lies had been told to my sister to convince her to call the Angels her home, nevertheless it was clear to me that she had made a life for herself among them. And I couldn’t honestly claim that the Guardians were all that better a faction anyway.
I pulled the amethyst pendant off over my head and held it out to her. “I’m sorry I kept this so long.”
Cat took the pendant in her hand and looked at the stone. “My lucky pendant...”
“It brought me luck too, Cat,” I said with as much smile as I could manage. “I told you that I’d return it when things got back to normal, but I guess things will never go back.”
Cat sighed quietly once, and then placed the pendant back around my neck. “Keep it, Adrian. You’re staying with the Guardians. You’ll need luck more than me.”
“I hope that’s true,” I said. “Have a good life, Catherine Divine.”
“You too, Adrian Gifford.”
Slowly, we shook hands. I don’t know how or when that handshake turned into an embrace, or how long Cat and I stood holding each other, but when we finally broke apart, I saw in my sister’s eyes the same resolve that I felt in my heart.
Taking a step back, I said, “If we ever meet again, I hope it won’t be at gunpoint.”
“Me too,” said Cat. “Good luck, Adrian.”
“Goodbye, Cat.”
I looked up at Randal, who said, “Let us be going now, Adrian. While I am well aware of your age and the risks associated with mind control for minors, for your own safety and ours, I must nevertheless ask my partner here to restrain your limbs until we reach the arena. I beg your understanding in this matter. It will be much safer on your mind if you do not attempt to resist.”
“Fine,” I said, and I felt my arms and legs once again under the puppeteer’s control.
Randal led us through the gap between the motorhomes. I could have turned my head to get one last look at Cat, but I didn’t.
The puppeteer walked me next to Randal as we silently made our way toward the cargo loading area on the north end of the factory building.
Randal had said he was going to lead me through the arena to the Guardian side. Why didn’t he simply let me walk straight back along the outside of the factory building? Was he afraid that the Guardians might attack him if he got too close to our barrier? But then he could have let me walk alone.
I turned my head and glanced at the pistol tucked under his belt.
“She can still see us, can’t she, Mr. Divine?” I said quietly. “That’s why you haven’t killed me yet.”
Randal Divine didn’t break pace. He kept looking straight forward as he replied, “We are both soldiers, Adrian. I respect your loyalty, but damn you for putting me in this position. You should have chosen to stay. Cathy is very dear to me, and I cannot allow the Guardians to use you against her someday.”
“Use me?” I scoffed. “Like you did with Terry’s brother last year?”
“I had nothing to do with that, Adrian. We are a much larger organization than you imagine. Besides, that was a very special case. Personally, I think Riley O’Neal got exactly what he deserved.”
“He deserved much worse than he got,” I said. “But I’ll have you know that Terry didn’t kill him. I did.”
“Then I am in your debt,” said Randal.
“But not enough to spare my life, I take it?”
Randal Divine finally looked at me. “No, Adrian. I was sincere in my wish to have you stay with us, but Cathy would not see you converted against your will.”
Randal nodded toward his puppeteer, and I could no longer speak. The puppeteer had complete control of my body now. We were nearly at the loading area, and I saw a doorway next to it that led into the factory building.
Randal said to me, “I promise it will be painless. It is the least I can do for you. Your body will be returned to the Guardians for burial, and we will tell them that you died fighting. As for your sister, I will tell her that you returned to the Guardians safely for now. When she is older, I will tell her that you were killed while fighting another faction. She will probably shed many tears, but rest assured that she will have me to help her through her grief.”
It would be meaningless to try to explain what was going through my head as Randal Divine told me this. I wasn’t thinking so much as screaming inside.
We entered the factory, and the puppeteer made me walk behind Randal as we made our way down a wide, dimly lit corridor. There were a few Angels here, but they took little notice of us as Randal led me to a descending staircase.
One flight down and we were in a narrow, dusty passage. There were many pipes and wires running along the ceiling and walls, and I guessed that this was one of the service tunnels that ran under the factory compound.
Strangely enough, I was just a little calmer now, and even in my hopeless predicament, I couldn’t help noticing that the Angels had taken the time to run electric lights through this tunnel. Where did it lead?
We walked slowly, through turns and junctions, arriving at a metal door set into the side of the passage. Randal Divine opened it, and the puppeteer walked me in first. There was no light on inside, but the light shining in through the doorframe was enough to show me that it was a square concrete room not much bigger than a walk-in closet. There was nothing inside, and for what purpose it had originally been created was a mystery. But I knew why I was here.
“Turn him around,” said Randal.
My body turned on the spot, facing Randal Divine and the puppeteer, who had both followed me in. It was too dark for me to see their faces clearly. My legs took five steps back, and my back was touching the cold concrete wall behind me.
“I’m sorry it has to be this way, Adrian,” said Randal as he slowly drew his pistol. “I wish–”
But I didn’t hear what he wished. Instead, I heard a low, muffled boom from above, followed quickly by two more. The curious sounds distracted Randal, who glanced up at the ceiling.
And that was when I realized that the puppeteer had been similarly distracted. My time with Terry in the dojo was about to pay off.
Screaming at the top of my lungs, I thrust my right arm forward and blasted the puppeteer in the chest, knocking him back. Before Randal could even begin to react, I had wrestled his pistol from his hand, shot the puppeteer between the eyes, and pushed the still-smoking barrel up against Randal’s neck. I heard a dull thud as the puppeteer finally collapsed onto the floor, a crumpled heap of dead flesh.
Suddenly Randal Divine was no longer a calm and collected man. His eyes widened in fear as he looked down at me, perhaps wondering why I hadn’t killed him yet.
The metal pistol was draining my strength, but I refused to let it show as I pushed Randal back out into the passage. Then I jumped back, putting some space between us but keeping the pistol leveled on his chest.
“I should kill you,” I said through clenched teeth. “You’d deserve it.”
“I’m all she has, you know,” said Randal, his eyes darting between my face and the pistol in my hands.
“I know that,” I replied, breathing heavily. “Something’s happening upstairs that you don’t want to be a part of. Get my sister to safety.”
Randal Divine didn’t move.
I shouted, “Go now! Before I change my mind! Pray you don’t see me again.”
The Angel who had become Cat’s father took one deep breath, nodded curtly to me, and then turned around and ran back down the passage. Throwing down the pistol, I ran in the other direction. I heard more explosions from above, and the faint sounds of gunfire too.
I didn’t have a clue as to the layout of these underground tunnels, but I still knew which direction I wanted to go. The Guardian side of the factory was ahead of me. I’d just keep going until I found some stairs to get me out.
I soon came to a place where the tunnel continued but the lights did not. There was a staircase set into the side of the passage here, leading up. I guessed that I was still on the Angel side, but pretty near the arena. I could either keep going down the pitch-black passage, feeling my way along in the dark, or I could go up the stairs and possibly walk into a firefight.
I decided to try the stairs. Even though I could have felt my way along the dark tunnel to a safer place to surface, I feared it would take too long. I wanted to rejoin the Guardians as quickly as possible. If the Guardians retreated, I didn’t want to be left behind.
As I climbed the stairs, I could hear the gunshots more clearly. I could also smell smoke mixed with a powerful odor of something rotten. There was a heavy steel door at the top of the stairs. I turned the knob and pulled hard. The door creaked open, and suddenly I was engulfed in thick smoke that stung my eyes, forcing me to shut them tightly. My throat burned, and I began to cough uncontrollably.
Mr. Watson had warned me about CS gas, but I never imagined that it would be this horrible. Tears streaming from my eyes, I slammed the door shut and stumbled back down the steps. I collapsed at the bottom of the stairs, my heart racing as I tried to expel the poison from my lungs.
Once I could breathe again, I stood and, wiping my damp eyes and running nose, I stepped into the dark path that would hopefully lead me back to the Guardian side of the factory. Once more into the darkness.
There was no time to do this carefully. With my right hand on the wall, I jogged down the passage, expecting at any moment to trip over something or crash into a wall. And I did several times: There were sudden turns in the tunnel and several large obstacles on the ground. But each time I fell, I picked myself up quickly and kept going. And miraculously, none of my falls had caused me to bleed yet.
Another turn, and suddenly I could see a light ahead of me. I was pretty sure that I was under the Guardian side of the building by now. Was there an exit? A window? Stairs?
It was a flashlight. I reached down to pick it up, and then jumped in surprise as I saw the hand holding it. Prying the light out of the dead man’s fingers, I shined it on the corpse, which was lying face up and staring back at me with wide, unseeing eyes.
It was Jack Forsyth, one of Mr. Simms’s bodyguards with whom I had traveled on our way to the Holy Land. There were burns all over his clothes and body, and there was a small hole in his neck that might have been caused by a bullet or a focused telekinetic blast.
I saw another dead body next to him, and then another. I didn’t recognize them, but I wondered if some of my previous stumbles and falls had been over other corpses. The battle wasn’t just upstairs. It was down here too.
The sound of another explosion from above snapped me back into focus. I had to keep going. Fortunately, the flashlight handle was made of plastic, so it didn’t drain me. Shining the light ahead of me, I stepped over the bodies and kept going.
Turning a corner, my light found yet another corpse on the ground, but I paid little attention to it until, when I tried to step over it, a hand grabbed my left ankle.
Yelping in surprise, I dropped the flashlight and fell to my knees. Kicking my leg free of the hand, I scrambled forward and snatched up the flashlight again. Still shaking from the shock, I shined the light onto the face of the man who had grabbed me.
“Mr. Simms?!” I exclaimed, almost dropping my flashlight again.
“Adrian!” Mr. Simms exclaimed hoarsely. “Goddamn it, you’re alive!”
“What’s going on?” I asked him dazedly.
“Damned if I know,” said Mr. Simms, breathing heavily. “My whole unit’s just a diversion. We were supposed to keep the Seraphim busy on the ground floor. The Lancers are going for Divine. We had to fall back. They had controllers.”
I noticed that Mr. Simms’s right leg was bent in a way that was anatomically impossible.
Mr. Simms grinned, saying, “The bastards followed us down, but we got them! They’re dead.”
“Where’s the rest of your team?” I asked.
“Most are probably still fighting upstairs. Jack P took half of the unit to the west side. See if you can find Jack F, Adrian. He should be close. Decker was with us too, but I think she was killed farther back down the tunnel. Find Jack F! My radio’s busted.”
“Jack F is dead, Mr. Simms,” I told him. “How do we get out of here?”
“Another eighty yards or so, I think. This tunnel runs to the end of the building. I wasn’t sure I could crawl it by myself, though. Got my leg blasted out from under me, see?” Mr. Simms grimaced. “A damn telekinetic. My knee’s broken. Help me up. You can levitate me.”