Apocalypse Rising (2 page)

“I know, I know,” she says as she follows me. She is scared and I am sure I am not helping her either.

“I’m sorry, but we’ve only got about ten minutes before somebody checks my place for us and I’d really like to be gone before they get here.” The door to my apartment building comes into sight and I feel a wave of relief come over me, but it quickly crashes down about me as a long Grey sedan rounds the corner up ahead. It should be too soon, but my gut tells me it is no random occurrence. I turn down the alley on my right, pulling Lilly after me. We are too screwed, too quickly.

“What the hell…”

“Shut up! They’re already here,” I whisper as I clamp my hand over her mouth. “Damn it! I thought we’d have more time.” I look around, hoping to find something that might help out, but sometimes an alley is just an alley and it is filled with nothing but other people’s refuse. I pull my hand from Lilly’s mouth. “Get on my back. We need to get out of here.” I turn around and she climbs on board. ‘Thank God she’s small,’ I think to myself as we jog into the darkness away from my escape plan.

I turn the corner into another alley and hear two gunshots behind us. They are muffled, probably from within my apartment. Whoever had gone to find me had not been to my room before or they would not have shot the full-length mirror that hung on the wall opposite of my door. More than one visitor has been startled by seeing themselves upon entering. It does not surprise me that some thug would squeeze off a couple rounds after breaking down my door. It will not take long to figure out I am not there. They will start asking my neighbors and Charlene will tell them we were on the bus.

I would like to say that I have a backup plan, but my escape plan is my back up plan. I need some time to figure out what to do next. It takes time to stop and I know that they are too close and stopping means dying. My mind races for somewhere to go, someplace that Albert will not think of. I have been a local fixture for too long. Albert knows where to find me and probably knows where to find Lilly too. The only place we can go is nowhere we have been.

Uptown is the only place I can think of where we will not be found right away, but uptown is pretty far for us to walk and we have no other means of getting there. I could steal a car, but I do not want the police involved. Albert owns most of the local cops and most of the uptown ones as well. You do not get to be a big time player like him if you do not have the law on your side. It is times like this when I wish I could call for help.

Lilly’s muffled crying against my shoulder makes up my mind for me. If I am going to save us, I have to go back to my old life. It has been a long time since I left, but some lessons learned long ago become more instinct than memory. I know I am not as good as I once was, but the real question is whether I am good enough for right now. I have a few tricks up my sleeve, but we have to get uptown to stand a chance.

I say a little prayer as I run through the alley and take it as a good sign that my prayers are answered as we leave the alley. Sitting there on the little side street is a taxi with its “available” light lit. It is against all odds, but that is the beautiful thing about prayer. I walk over to the passenger side and knock on the window.

“Jesus!” The cabbie would have jumped out of his chair if not for the seat belt strapped across his lap.

“No, Justin, but I appreciate the compliment. Now can we get a ride?”

“You got money?” he asks.

“No, but wouldn’t you like to do something nice today and take us to uptown?” I am straining, trying to eke out as much goodwill and good fortune as I can.

It has been a long time since I have tried to bring forth the power and I have to throw all of my concentration behind it to get the trickle I am starting to feel.

“Ha! You’re a funny guy you know that? Ha!” The man in the cab pulls out a cigarette and lights up. He looks at me over his thick fingers as he delicately holds the cigarette to his lips. “What’s wrong with the girl?”

“She had a bit too much to drink and I need to get her home.” I keep my eyes locked on his while I feed the flow. I push at his heart and soul, trying to get him to let me in, but I am too weak, too out of practice.

“You two don’t look old enough to be drinking,” he says after taking a long drag. His smoke stained fingers grip the filter tightly. “In fact, you don’t look like you’ve been drinking at all.” He eyes me suspiciously.

“I wasn’t. I was just along for the ride. Before I knew it she was falling all over the place and I thought I had better get her out of there.” Suddenly I can feel it, the crack I am looking for. I push my will into the crack, feeding as much positive energy into it as I can muster.

There is a change in the cab driver. It is almost imperceptible, not much more than a twinkle in the man's eyes, but it is there. “Look kid, I can’t take you all the way uptown, at least not for free, but I can take you about half way okay?”

“Bless you...”

“Carl.”

“Bless you Carl.” I open the door, put Lilly in and climb in beside her.

“All right, let’s get going,” Carl says as he turns the car on and quietly drives off. I feel something pull at my consciousness so I look over my shoulder in time to see three men walk out of the alley. It may be my imagination or the exhaustion from reaching out to Carl, but I see a glint of red through the darkness. It is the light in Carl’s eyes in reverse, only it comes from the men behind us. What have I gotten myself into?

Haden watched the cab drive away, noting the company and cab number. More importantly than either was the gentle white glow that shimmered around the dingy yellow car. 'This is an interesting development indeed,' he thought to himself. He stretched his arms out, stopping the two men who accompanied him. "Let them go. We'll let the lessers handle them for now." Haden turned back to the alley and walked into its waiting shadows. "We have to let Albert know what we're dealing with."

"What are we dealing with, boss?" asked Simon, Haden's newest thrall.

“Simon,” Haden said as he ran his well-manicured fingers through his short brown hair, "we're dealing with one of the Blessed." His voice suggested patience, but it carried an edge of anger. If he had been facing the other two men, Simon could have seen the hatred etched on Haden's face and would have known to keep his mouths shut. Of the two, only Peter had been around Haden long enough to recognize the particular tone in his master's voice. He motioned for Simon to shut up, but Simon was more brawn than brain and paid him no heed.

"Who are the Blessed?" Simon had been chosen for his size, not his brains, and Peter knew this was not going to end well.

Haden stopped walking. His face contorted with rage. "Why is it so hard to find a good thrall these days?" he asked haltingly. Each word filled with the careful anger he had built up over thousands of years. He quickly gained control of his features and smiled like a father who was patiently explaining things to his youngest child. "The Blessed, dear Simon, are the favored of God. They are the obedient sheep who don't fear the dark because they think they are safe within his arms." Haden stepped up to the quivering thrall, reached up and put his hands on either side of the man's head.

Peter wanted to step back, the power of Haden poured into the alley with so much pressure that Peter's ears popped as if he were in an airplane climbing for altitude. "They forget the world around them is a dark and scary place because they've not known true fear or love or hatred. They do not know the pain of solitude because they can always feel him." Haden's voice grew louder and the rage returned to his face as he lifted Simon up by his head. "They are why I am here; to remind them just how alone they are in this world!"

Haden threw Simon against the wall with enough force to crack the bricks, sending a spray of dust and blood that blossomed outward in an explosion that blanketed the alley. When his body hit the filthy asphalt floor with a wet hollow thump, it was obvious from the unnatural angle of his neck that Simon the thrall was no longer alive. Peter stared at the corpse of his former new partner and shook his head, as irritated that the man ignored his advice as he was at the new stains on his suit. "Do you want me to get rid of the body, master?"

"No, I have a better plan for him." Haden muttered something unintelligible, ran his hands down the front of his suit, and the blood fell away. He stepped over to the corpse and pressed a pair of fingers against its forehead, leaving a dark, blood colored mark in their place when he lifted them from the cooling skin. He stepped away from the dead thrall and commanded, "Rise." The corpse rose to its feat slowly, its movement sluggish and unbalanced. "Slave, go to the chirurgeon and tell him I sent you. Do not be seen by anyone on the way. Do you understand?"

"Yesss." The former thrall's voice was no longer his own. The words left his lips with a chill breath.

"Good. Now go." Haden turned back down the alley, walking at a brisk pace. "Come, Peter. We must find you a new partner before we seek Albert."

“Did you feel him, Neville?” Robert shouted as he flung open the doors and strode into the boardroom. Twenty faces turned to stare at him, all of them shocked by the loud interruption.

“Robert, please keep it down for a moment. We’ll talk after the meeting is done,” responded Neville with a wave of his hand indicating the well-dressed individuals sitting around the long oval table. His face was calm and impossible to read by any of the people indicated, but the flash in his eyes told Robert exactly how irritated his oldest friend really was.

“Very well, excuse me ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption.” Robert straightened his suit coat and grabbed the door. “I’ll be waiting in your office, Neville.” Without another word, he backed out of the boardroom, shutting the door behind him. Patience had never been his greatest quality. Some would say it was a quality he did not possess at all. As much as it irritated him, he would have to wait for just a little while. They had remained hidden for years without incident and serenity was often required from Robert; their cover demanded it.

Neville would gloss over the interruption and have the executives forgetting about Robert in no time at all. That was Neville’s greatest strength, to be able to guide people along a path of his choosing. Robert was constantly amazed at the way he could do it without having to overtly manipulate people. It was something in his voice and demeanor that made people want to trust him. Being the head of a multinational corporation was a perfect fit for him. Robert knew that Neville’s talents were wasted there when he could have made a real difference in the political arena.

As he walked down the hall, Robert ignored the people walking by as he made his way to Neville’s office He stopped once he stood before Neville’s secretary. “Good morning, Avery.”

“Good morning, Mr. Parker,” she said with a smile. “Mr. Steinner is in a meeting this morning, but he should be done before too long if you care to wait.” Avery Simmons knew very well that Robert had barged into the meeting since she had a direct video feed into the conference room playing on one of the monitors arrayed around the front of her desk, but she was far too professional to admit as much to Robert.

“Thank you, Avery. I’ll wait in his office,” Robert said with a nod and a grin that would have left most women swooning, but Avery had always been immune to his charms, which was probably why Neville had hired her.

"Would you like me to send in some refreshment?" Her smile was pleasant with just a hint of arrogance. She reveled in her immunity.

"No, I'll make do with whatever is lying around." It would not be much, but he was not in the mood for food or drink.

“Very well sir.” Without another word, she went back to what she had been working on when he had walked up.

Robert passed Avery and entered Neville’s office through the large oak double doors that overwhelmed most visitors. Few people knew it, but the doors were all that remained of an old Catholic church that had been destroyed during the horrific bombing of Dresden, Germany. He was uncertain whether the smell of blood and ash that he sensed when he walked through the doors was his imagination or some lingering haunting from the terror of those three days so long ago. When Neville had first installed the doors, Robert had asked why. He said that it was to remind himself that even great works can be destroyed in a fit of anger. Robert thought it had more to do with the intimidation such doors engendered when someone stood before them.

The office was bright with the sun’s morning light as it struggled to gain height in the morning sky, the dark portent of the previous night’s activities weighing it down. Robert walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up half of the walls in the large rectangular space. He looked down upon the world like a dispassionate god of eons long since forgotten. Time ticked by slowly as he watched the movement of cars and people moving through the city. They were all little more than specs of dust blown about by an errant gust of wind as seen from that high up.

“How do you keep from forgetting about them my brother?” Robert whispered as sorrow welled up within him and threatened to choke away the control he barely maintained.