Authors: Christopher De Sousa
He glanced about the vehicle's interior. They'd exchanged few words had been exchanged since they'd departed. He felt there was an unsettled ambience inside. His colleagues looked both tired and uneasy. But it didn't take long for someone to break the silence. It was a typical of Katherine to make sure of that.
“Monica, I need to know if they're all okay,” Katherine whimpered. “Is it possible that others have already arrived and can tell us the situation?”
“And what good would that do? We still can't do anything until we get there,” he responded.
“I'm sorry Katherine; we don't yet know what we're dealing with. I really wish I could tell you more than that,” Monica said solemnly.
“Monica, about earlierâ¦you suspected I'd thought of making a run for it, to escape the organisation. Why didn't you believe me when I first agreed to be a part of this?” Katherine questioned. “What gave me away? Did Anzu tell you? Or could you also read my mind? Why even bring me along?”
Blake grunted. He was sick of hearing her pout and question everything to the minutest of detail. “If you insist upon asking so many questions, seeming it's the only thing in which you show any competence, might I suggest you ask just one question at a time? Although, in all honesty Monica, I must admit to being curious as to why you thought it a good idea to bring her along?”
He apprehensively awaited Monica's response; for her head was bowed and she had donned a familiar expression of quiet contemplation. It quickly became apparent to him that his instructor had heard enough, and her patience had finally waned.
“First, I'm not exactly a mind reader,” she started. “But I have become fairly adept over the years at reading a person's body language; to know when someone is being sincere, or when someone is hiding something. Second, Anzu didn't tell me anything, so don't look to him as a scapegoat.”
Third,” she continued, briefly glancing back at Blake, “I brought you along for the experience Katherine, which you most desperately need. I believe it is the best way for you to learn, particularly since you are without a doubt your mother's daughter. I can be sympathetic for only so long, regardless of the circumstances. I know that you didn't sign up for this. I imagine you wish to wake up and for this all to have been another crazy dream. But now it's time for you to wake up and accept reality. You need us, and I'm trying my best to keep you alive. That's not just for now, but for also when I'm gone. Now if you will both excuse me, I need to concentrate upon what lies ahead.”
Although her words were mainly for Katherine's ears, some of what she'd said also resonated with Blake. The thought of Monica no longer being around scared him. But he had also come to realise that Katherine was going to be around for good; and that was whether he liked it or not.
Chapter 18
As the vehicle pulled up alongside sixty six Phocis Avenue, Katherine brooded over Monica's lecture of home truths. She was unsure how to respond, or what to take from it. She wasn't surprised that Monica denied intruding into her thoughts, but she wasn't exactly willing to accept her denial either. She figured that Monica probably could read her mind. This was especially suspicious when she thought about her instructor's uncanny powers. However, and with further self-reflection on what Monica had said, she felt a hypocrite.
Not long ago I'd preached to Anzu about trust,
she remembered,
and now here I am suspecting he'd told Monica about my intentions to flee this organisation.
She gazed over at the winged guardian; Anzu lay there in the corner of the utility, away from the others preoccupied with own thoughts. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate and shed the distracting questions that lingered about his emotional state, seeking to get a sense of what bothered her her guardian. She saw him raise his rested beak from the floor, and stare back at her through his sharp golden eyes.
I best not pry any further,
she decided, aware of the double standard and the suspected disapproval of her guardian as he'd averted his eyes from maintaining eye contact.
As soon as the vehicle had come to a halt, she quickly leapt out the back. She felt a cold and unnerving breeze coursing through the air, exacerbating her fears.
What am I going to do if Justin and Naomi are hurt
? She worried.
As she approached the front steps, numerous operatives pressed past amidst stretchering the unconscious bodies of students from the lounge. She watched as they hurried to the nearest parked utility and placed them in the back. With each passing face that lay there on the stretcher, she looked on in the hope the next would not belong to either of her friends. Once Monica and Blake had both passed her by, she decided to step inside.
In the lounge of sixty six Phocis Avenue there was a mess: there were empty bottles littering the place. There were crushed potato chips smeared into the velvet carpet, and Sidney's fine leather furniture had been torn to pieces. Despondent, Katherine trudged over to a table in the centre of the lounge. Two members of the boys' basketball team lay face down and comatose over it. Blake crept up behind her. He leaned over the boys, and examined about one's of neck.
“What are you doing?” She questioned, annoyed.
“The winged Corrupted bites and sucks the energy from its prey. I'm looking for marks it may have left.”
“So this thing, this Corrupted is a vampire?”
“What are you? Twelve?” He responded, rolling his eyes. “No Katherine, vampires are not real.”
“Funny, I thought the same thing about spirits and demons,” she responded, turning for the kitchen.
Within the Kitchen, Lance was already at work, raising another unconscious student from the linoleum floor. In the corner of the kitchen and seated before a wooden table, she recognized two girls from her English class. Both were slouched over and unresponsive before an open bottle of liquor.
Still no sign of either Justin or Naomi
, she thought with relief.
She glanced down at one of the girls' necklines. “I think
this
winged Corrupted may have left a mark on this girl.”
“Same goes for this one, there's little doubt that it's the same Corruptedâ¦,” Lance replied, as he draped the body of a young man he'd collected over one shoulder and headed for the door.
“The same Corruptedâ¦,” she mumbled, remembering back to when both Monica and Blake had sensed the energy of this winged Corrupted soaring past them while on their way to the city.
That earthen corrupted had referred to the wing corrupted as one of Namtar's Reapers,
she remembered.
But then what does that make those two who attacked both me and my father? And what exactly is a Reaper? How is it different to your average Corrupted?
She perused what remained of the kitchen. Little had gone untouched; shattered glass covered the bench, and many modern day appliances lay broken beyond repair. Leaving the kitchen and returning to the lounge, she knelt down to pick up a few framed photographs that had been knocked off a nearby cabinet. One of them, she had been quick to recognize, was a picture of Justin. He stood there beside his parents aboard a large vessel. She soon realised she'd seen this particular photo once before; the one time he'd brought her inside his new home. They hadn't been dating long - only been going out a couple of months. But he'd explained to her, and as he held this picture, the reason for why he had moved here to live with his estranged uncle in the first place.
He had held the photo, and had told her how his parents were presumed to have lost their lives at sea when he was a boy.
They were both archaeological professors.
He had said.
They'd travelled the world in search of tomes and relics that dated back to the origins of ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia.
When Justin was only seven years old, his parent's had chartered a cargo ship and departed the Florida coastline heading for the Bermuda triangle. As a child, he said he'd accompanied them on many of their adventures, including the one that proved to be their last. He had somehow been the only one to survive this ill-fated voyage, and he remembered little of what happened while inside this treacherous part of the Atlantic Ocean; or of how he'd alone returned.
At the time of its telling, the tale sounded a bit too far-fetched for Katherine to suspend her disbelief. But now, in light of what she'd seen and been exposed to recently, she saw little reason to doubt the validity of his history. Nevertheless, she remembered all too well how she'd found herself swept up by the tragic story, by the way Justin had recited it so fervently and eloquently. It had captivated both her heart and imagination.
She saw Justin as a kindred spirit. He knew what it was like to lose someone most dear, and he'd expressed of his sorrow in a way to which she could relate: he had this picture and story of his parents in memory, and she had the sketching of Atlantis left behind by her mother.
At numerous times all year since he'd transferred to Anabasis, he'd brought her comfort when she'd reflected on her own loss. He'd talked to her, empathized with and shared in her feelings. Through their growing conversations and time together, he had sparked her romantic passion. Although it had only been a couple of months, she'd become convinced that he was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her days with in sickness and in health, nestled in the touch of his warm embrace. Now, in face of what had happened to her, she yearned to see him and share her recent hardships. She wanted him by her side; to tell her everything would be okay.
“There's another couple upstairs,” said Lance, motioning for an additional officer to follow and help him.
She looked up the stairwell, quietly wondering who this couple might be. One officer came back down the stairs cradling an unconscious Sadie in his arms. Lance followed shortly after. She peered up at the limp body which dangled down from his shoulder, and Katherine quickly realised it was Justin.
She didn't really know what to think, nor of how to respond. She sensed she was shaking and felt her emotions bubble to the surface. Sadness had come over her as she worried for his wellbeing, but she also felt a deep anger brewing.
Why was he up there with Sadie Cassell
? She wanted to scream, her muscles having tensed; her heart weighing heavily.
She knew it wasn't the time or place to question, nor dwell upon the possibility he'd cheated, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he'd betrayed her.
“It's all such a mess,” she mumbled beneath her breath, juggling back and forth between different emotional states.
To feel such anger one minute,
she thought,
and then for both sadness and anxiety to follow so swiftly - it's all a bit much to stand.
She felt like crying out, thrashing at what remained standing about the lounge, and like running away as fast as her legs would carry her. As the emotions rose and resurfaced in cycles, she sought from deep within to suppress and control these urges. She knew she had to focus her mind on what still needed to be done.
Where is Naomi?
She wondered, knowing that finding her best friend should be her first priority.
“Katherine, we've found Naomi,” she heard Monica call out. She was bemused with her teacher's impeccable timing. “Naomi's safe, but she's fairly shaken, and refuses to speak with us.”
“Where is she?”
“She's in the back of our utility,” Monica replied.
Immediately, Katherine headed for the door and hurried along the gravel driveway toward the front gate. She peered up into the back of the utility; Naomi was inside, wrapped in a thick blanket, and with Anzu resting at her side. Now that Naomi was found, Katherine found herself hankering to ask her whether she knew anything about Justin and Sadie. It had crossed her mind that perhaps she'd jumped to the wrong conclusion. Naomi could offer her good counsel, as she had often done in the past.
But as she gazed at Naomi, she couldn't get past seeing how despondent her often bubbly and energetic best friend now looked. Through swollen eyes and blotches of black make-up, Naomi only stared back at her as if she was caught within a dazed stupor.
“Katâ¦who are these people,” she heard Naomi whimper. “Are you with themâ¦?”
Katherine looked to her guardian; the gryphon continued to avert his head.
Why do I always worry about the things least important?
She wondered,
over and over again I keep making this same mistake, and why am I always burdening others with my problems, and never being the one to help with theirs?
To dwell in paranoia over whether Anzu had disclosed her thoughts to Monica, and to overlook that if he had, it was only to serve her best interests given the Corrupted's many attacks. To stagger about in a morose and melancholic haze because of the possibility that a boyfriend of only a few months might have cheated on her, rather than focus on the fact that he was now unconscious. To rely on Naomi for guidance over matters largely trivial in the greater scheme of things, and yet ignore the fact she should be the one to provide her best friend with comfortâ¦these were the things she grappled withâ¦to comprehend such a horrifying evening. She thought of her father; of how disappointed he'd be in her misguided sense of priority. He'd lost his life so that she could go on living. Yet here she stood, thinking of running away from those that needed her, abandoning the innocent and those unable to defend themselves against the will of these Corrupted.
“Yes, I am with this organisation,” she replied, looking back at Naomi with conviction. “And we're here to help.”
Chapter 19
The price of ascension, and the cost that comes to those who form a celestial bondâ¦
, thought Monica, as she dabbed at the blood about her lips.
Although she looked not a day older than forty three, internally she felt as if she had lived over hundreds of years. She frequently suffered from these splitting headaches that felt as though the beak of a bird was pecking away at her skull, and her muscles ached constantly. But it was from the blood that coursed through her veins where she felt the most discomfort. It felt like there was an agonizing stream of fire surging up and along her limbs. It also seemed as if she lost a part of herself every day, as though her soul was being strained through an empty void.