Authors: Lynnie Purcell
Reaper looked just as scared. I knew he thought the person on the ground was Alex. He was certain the Nightstalkers had taken her. I was more worried she had been responsible for the person’s death.
The Nightstalkers were tearing in to each other – fighting over the person one of them had killed. They were being territorial and unwilling to share the kill.
As we watched, another smaller figure, one of a person, appeared out of a tunnel. This person was large, with muscles to spare. Despite the cold, he was wearing a tank top. He had on military pants and combat boots to match. He had short hair and his features were difficult to see in the dim light. He had a large stick in one hand.
“Enough,” the man said.
He held up the stick to the Nightstalker closest to him and touched it to the flesh. A spark of electricity penetrated the Nightstalker’s flesh. It yelped in pain and the two Nightstalkers broke apart.
“There’s more sport to be had,” the man said. “Go.”
The Nightstalkers growled lightly at the man but did not try to attack him. They ran off in opposite directions. The man looked at the person on the ground, smiled in satisfaction, and turned and went back the way he had come.
Reaper pulled me away from the cavern entrance and back down the tunnel, so that we wouldn’t be heard above the sounds of the Nightstalkers.
“They have scouts in here,” he said. “They must be hunting prisoners. It’s a way Marcus keeps his Nightstalkers in check…they take prisoners they no longer have need and make sport of them. It is easy prey for the Nightstalkers, and it keeps too many of his soldiers from turning before their time.”
“It’s disgusting,” I said.
“Yes,” he agreed.
“How do you know about it?” I asked.
“It’s my business to know about it,” he said. He hesitated. “Did you get a look at the girl?” he asked.
It was obvious he was afraid of even bringing up the possibility that the girl was Alex.
“It’s not her,” I said.
“She has blonde hair,” Reaper pointed out.
“It’s not her,” I said again. “I can still feel Alex. She’s alive.”
The pulse of light and energy in my chest had not faded. In fact, it had grown stronger. It was the pulse of Alex being near. The pull was from the bottom of the cavern. She was alive and she was still a Nightstalker. I could tell that much.
“This complicates things,” Reaper said. “They have patrols. It’d be my guess that these tunnels connect to the fortress somehow. They probably keep prisoners somewhere in here…away from the Watchers inside. It’s less noisy when they get around to killing.”
“Prisoners…” I said in a low, thoughtful voice.
“We don’t have time for another rescue mission,” Reaper warned me. “And if we do try to free them, it might mean that Han and Beatrice don’t get rescued.”
His words were rough logic. A price had to be paid for what we were trying to accomplish. I couldn’t risk Han and Beatrice’s rescue on a foolish idea that I could save everyone. I had learned my lesson on that regard.
“You’re right…of course, you’re right,” I said.
“Where do you feel Alex?” he asked.
“Down there,” I said. “In a tunnel to our left. She’s getting further away, though.”
“We need to be quiet and fast,” he said. “We’ll try to hide from the patrols, but if we can’t evade them…we have to take them out as quickly as possible.”
“I understand,” I said.
“Sparing lives is for times when we’re not at war,” he added. “It’s deadly to be kind.”
“I understand,” I repeated.
I didn’t like the idea, but I knew we would have to do whatever it took to survive. The Seekers would not be so generous as to keep us alive, if it came down to it.
“We should leave the light here,” Reaper added. “It’s too risky to keep it on us.”
“I can’t see very well in the dark,” I pointed out.
“Do you have a lighter?” he asked.
“No,” I replied.
He took out his – a silver one with wings on either side – and handed it to me. It was a lighter than only those inducted in to the ranks of the Saints carried.
“Use it only if you need it,” he said.
I nodded and stuck the lighter in to my pocket.
“You lead the way,” he added.
“Thanks,” I said dryly.
I pulled my knife out of my boot and, my body held low, I walked back out in to the massive cavern. The stench of death was overwhelming as I made my way down the narrow trail. My eyes kept moving to the girl left to rot on the cave floor. My ears were alert for the sound of patrols or Nightstalkers. My heart pounded in my chest with preternatural alertness. I was in unusual circumstances, but I had never felt more at home. I knew what to do. The violent impulses were easy. My body knew how to respond without my brain having to tell it what to do. I realized the violent impulses were getting easier. I wasn’t sure if it was the torture I had endured or my looming birthday. I just knew killing wasn’t as hard as it used to be. It didn’t help that the missions I went on for Reaper – usually with Daniel at my side – always included violence of some sort. It was becoming second nature. It was a nature I feared beyond words.
We reached the bottom of the cavern without incident. No Watchers or Nightstalkers came out of the depths of the many tunnels to attack us. I took that as a hopeful sign that there was less in the tunnels than my imagination had conceived.
The tunnel I felt drawn toward was empty as well. I ducked in to it, Reaper hot on my heels, and cautiously made my way down it. It was a taller tunnel, the tops of it reaching up in to a different kind of darkness. I felt life at the top – bats. Our feet were soon covered in their droppings. It made walking complicated and stealth difficult. The tunnel moved downward and our pace became a gentle slide as the droppings made ‘walking’ in the normal sense impossible. It was more ‘slipping’ than anything.
The feeling of Alex tugged me onward.
Other sounds permeated the dark as slid down the tunnel. Rock sliding against rock, voices that echoed back a thousand times from caves either very far away or very close – it was hard to tell. The sound of breathing and the dull hum of electricity was a never-ending call that people were somewhere nearby.
The sounds of humanity slowly got closer. After an hour of walking, we found their source. Reaper pulled me in to a recess in the tunnel when he saw what was ahead of us. He face was doubtful as he took in the scenery.
It was another cavern, larger than the first. It was wide and irregular, carved out of stone by millennia of flowing water. I sensed the water far below, between a gorge in the cavern. I could barely hear the water moving and knew it was a mile down, at least. Crude stone bridges spanned across the gorge at regular intervals. Yellow lights lit the impossibly large space. Cords ran to buildings, which then led to generators. The generators all had cords that collected at a central tunnel that went out of sight. Collections of buildings were spaced throughout the massive cavern, some high, some low. The buildings were forged out of the very rock they sat on. There was no hint of tool used on the rock. It looked as if the buildings had merely shaped themselves of their own freewill. Reaper’s face told another story.
He held out his hand to explain, seeing the questioning look in my eyes. I took his hand, feeling odd about sharing my thoughts with anyone beyond Daniel. Reaper’s mind was as foreign as Daniel’s, but the strong pressure of thought was not there. His mind lacked the overwhelming power Daniel’s held, though his mind was still powerful enough.
They have a person who can shape rock. This person can change rock and bend it to their will. It’s how they carved the fortress…it’s how they carved the buildings here.
What does that mean?
I asked.
It means that if we run in to him or her, they could seal us up in the stone forever.
I suppose we should avoid that, then,
I said. I pointed to the buildings formed out of the rock.
What are those buildings? Do you know?
Prisons as well outposts, to keep an eye on things. I think this is one of the outlying areas. The first of several, I’m sure. Marcus is a fan of redundancy.
Can we get by, without being seen?
I asked.
Reaper’s eyes narrowed and he looked at the collection of buildings again. People were moving along the buildings – Seekers keeping an eye on things. Nightstalkers moved where there weren’t people. The Seekers and Nightstalkers kept to themselves, herded in to separate areas. The Nightstalkers had collars on and a deadly burning passion for death in their eyes. The Seekers outnumbered the Nightstalkers, but I wasn’t eager to face down either group. The Seekers had on black robes with a red insignia in the middle of their chest. It was the same insignia – a snake eating its own tail – I had seen in Marcus’ nest in New Orleans.
How closely do you think they’ll look at our faces if we’re wearing a robe?
Reaper asked.
I watched as Seekers came and went. No one paid them any attention. No one stood guard, to make sure they were who they said they were. They trusted their scouts and their reputation to keep enemies at bay. They weren’t counting on two crazy people who were in search of a friend.
I think it’s time to go Seeker hunting,
I said.
Reaper smirked back and dropped his hand. He pointed to the building closest to us. It was small. Through the glassless window, I saw three guards, playing cards and drinking. One guard was on the outside, keeping an eye on things. The guard was helpfully keeping an eye on the opposite side of the cavern from us. His back was to us, the perfect opening.
Reaper looked at me once – a question on his face. He wanted to know if I was ready to take them down. I nodded and gripped my knife with more determination. There was no choice, if we were to find Alex before she got hurt.
Reaper slid around the corner of the tunnel on silent feet; ghosts made more noise than him. I followed him closely, doing my best to be just as noiseless. We kept our bodies low, so that the guards couldn’t see us through the window. We finally reached the guard. Reaper didn’t waste time with artificial moves designed to impress. He grabbed the guard from behind and broke his neck with a signal maneuver. His task done, he gently lowered the man to the ground. Then, he put his hand on the door. My body raced with adrenaline, and I felt as if there was nothing keeping me from the void of violence we were about to enter.
He opened the door and I went in first. The men around the table scrambled to their feet when they saw us, but we didn’t give them time to respond. I grabbed the man closest to me and stabbed him in the throat. He toppled over, blood running out of his wound. I pulled my knife out and looked for another enemy, my heart beating faster with the action. But there was no one left to face. Reaper had killed both men in the time it had taken me to kill one. I hadn’t noticed. I had been so focused on the one guy.
My breathing heavy and irregular, I wiped my knife off on the pant leg of the man I had killed. It was weird to kill a man after sneaking up on him. Usually, I found myself in situations where fighting was the only option. It felt mercenary to do it Reaper’s way. It was worse in that it was so necessary. Reaper understood the emotions pounding through my chest.
“Are you okay?” Reaper asked in a quiet voice.
“Peachy,” I said dryly.
“You look like you’re about to be sick.”
I swallowed the bile in my throat and fixed my expression.
“I’m fine,” I said.
Take this,” he said.
He held out one of the robes to me. I put the robe on mechanically and watched as Reaper drug the first guard he had killed in to the room. Our disguises on, we stepped out and closed the door behind us, sealing away the bodies of the dead.
“Try to look casual,” Reaper warned.
“Yeah, right,” I said.
“Which way?” he asked.
I had to focus doubly hard to find the pulse that was Alex. It was masked by the people walking around the cavern and by the distance that had formed between us while Reaper and I had claimed our robes. I felt her to our left, running down another tunnel directly across from us. A bridge and two more small outposts were in our way – not to mention the crude prisons that dotted the area.
“That way,” I said, pointing out the path to Reaper.
I tucked my knife in to the pocket of the loose-fitting robe and did my best to look as if I belonged. I kept my face impassive and tried to stop my heart from beating so fast. Sweat poured down my back; the weight of my winter clothes added to the adrenaline-induced sweat I was already experiencing. As we passed our first Seeker in the cave, I felt there was nothing keeping her from knowing we didn’t belong. The Seeker barely glanced at us, however. Disinterest was in her black eyes. She didn’t care for anything beyond where she was going.
I let out a low sigh when she passed us. My confidence increased with the meeting. I walked an even pace through the prisons, past the guards. I did my best to ignore the prisoners in their cells, but it was difficult. Many of them were human, which meant their thoughts of terror reached out and brushed me with alarming strength. It was all I could do to keep walking and not free every last one. I sensed Reaper battling the same impulse. Neither of us was geared toward letting innocent people suffer.