The Seven (Fist of Light Series) (46 page)

“Ready to experience death for certain, this time?” he shouted as we plummeted downward.

Groaning, I touched down on the platform of a building and turned to face my adversary. “Not quite yet.” I grimaced.

I was running out of power, most likely because I had directed so much of it at Kasper and Friends in a short span. My mind was weary and my body wasn’t doing much better. I had another shiv in my leg, though at least this one kept ice on my wound. I couldn’t move much without causing tremors of pain through my femur, which meant the dagger had probably collided with bone. That in turn meant that I probably hadn’t conceived a very well thought out an action plan by forcing weight on my leg. Ah, hell, it seemed that I would have to live with my choices and think later.

Kasper didn’t seem fazed in the slightest, in fact he seemed refreshed. “You’re wounded, tired, and on the verge of death once more. Would you still cling to your stubborn, superficial ideals?”

I didn’t deem to give that question an answer, but rather directed a bolt of lightning at Kasper, Harry Potter style. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. In this case it would be my medium for a battle of wills, which at this point was my only hope, only possible avenue of salvation. Kasper, in devouring the essence of whatever the hell he had eaten, had becoming much larger than me in the grand scheme of things. But as a person, he was shattered, fractured, and weak, the Leaning Tower of Pizza, just waiting for the right conditions to be toppled. Darkness met lightning midair, and a concussion of power shattered the glass of surrounding buildings and set off car alarms off.

“You think you can stand against my might? I have more power than you can imagine, and a breadth of knowledge you can never match!”

Kasper’s consuming Darkness strained at my construct, inched toward me with every labored breath. The pain in my leg grew, but I walled it off and ignored the sensation entirely. My vision tunneled and focused solely on the conflicting forces of Light and Darkness before me. I found my mind reflecting back to sleepless nights on the cold, damp ground of an alleyway, covered by some refuse that kept me alive on a chill night. Then there were innumerable wards, prisons of the mind and soul that attempted to bog down the psyche, but in actuality only strengthened my burning desire to survive. Brawls, both the successes and failures, taught me to always fight dirty and to never come at your enemy from where they expected it. Always moving, I had become resourceful, perceptive, and good at reading people.

I had learned that there was no one in the world to trust but yourself, because given the right circumstances, even your friends would turn on you. That last bit had proven over and over again until I met Jas, but it seemed he was an exception, and even he deceived me, in a way. The world was a shadowy, hateful place, pervaded by people who refused to see past their bubble, past the differences that set them apart from another group or race. Hate festered, violence ensued, and deaths followed. There seemed to be a never-ending war taking place within the veins of society, one that no one wished to halt or speak of, despite their ability to change the collision course they maintained, if only an attempt was made. Humans are creatures of habit, and so are stuck in a fatal loop, the perpetual state of self-destruction by their own hand.

“And yet I have something that trumps all that,” I shouted back.

Kasper’s face held no strain, no creases of hurt or loss. He was a blank page, expecting to get what he wanted because he always had. “What could you have, that I do not already possess?”

“You don’t know?” I gloated, as the Darkness overwhelmed my reserves of power, stole the breath from my lungs.

“Tell me!” he demanded, his power slackening somewhat, giving me some breathing room.

“Stubbornness, a charming wit, never knowing when to give up, and the ability to improvise!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, splitting my lightning into seven component parts that all streaked toward Kasper, hissing and crackling venomously.

Kasper absorbed the current of electricity in disparate portions of his body, and his face was a picture of shock and horror as he was blown off his feet and into the night sky. The immediate darkness swallowed him whole as he was propelled off the side of the building and onto the waiting pavement below. The last thing I heard from him was a scream, so piercing and dark that I recoiled in spite of myself. My attack also meant that I had left myself open to the pulsating torrent of Darkness that Kasper had been striving to destroy me with. I only had time to set up a flimsy partition of Air before the blast hit me full force, hurling me backward. The force of the impact had me believing that I had broken every bone in my body, and my deafening collision with the wall added immensely to that effect.

The Darkness that had ran parallel with me throughout my life that made me stronger and more adept in all my pursuits followed me, crushing me downward, driving the air from my lungs, starving me of oxygen. The wall behind me must have been composed of something tough as steel, because although it was bent back from my collision with it, it didn’t empty me into thin air. Spots danced in my vision and I imagined that if I looked hard enough, I could pick out the ones that had become so attached to me in the past. Feeling utterly drained, I allowed the encroaching Darkness to enfold me once more, to protect or hold me forever in its grasp.

T
he pain made itself known first, and I alternately hated and loved it in the same instant. Then came a further sensation of a soft surface beneath me and bandages and casts engulfing most of my body. Sight returned next, which granted me the familiar vision of my room in San Francisco, a reassuring sight that informed me that I wasn’t in any danger. Doing my habitual systems check, I instantly found that I was not in the best of shape. There was a saline drip hooked up to my arm, which told me that most of the pain I would have actually felt was dulled. Despite my pain threshold, and, coupled with the drugs, I still felt like I had been hit by a bus, or possibly pulled a Charlie Sheen and gotten ran over by a subway train. I wanted to test myself, and so attempted to move an arm, twitch a leg,
something
.

“Don’t move, Caleb. Don’t
move
, dammit!” Jas’ voice gained some vitality, and I smiled. “He’s awake!”

Sunlight filtered lazily into the room, and I basked in the heat it transferred to my chilled skin. “How’d you find me?” I was pleasantly surprised that my jaw was one of the only things in my body that wasn’t broken.

“Used my head.” He tapped the side of his skull, grinning. “And that whole location technique you taught me. It’s nifty, that’s for sure.”

A nurse rushed in the room, in her thirties and very educated by the look of her. She must have been on retainer for Noah, which meant I’d have to provide him with profuse thanks the next time I saw him. She looked at a bunch of charts and diagrams, holding it up to the beeping monitor on my right. Nodding, she was apparently satisfied.

The nurse leaned over me, adjusting the comforter to her liking. “Caleb, you should refrain from moving as much as possible. I realize that you’re quick on the mend, but even so, you have a long and painful recovery ahead of you. You took quite a hit, when you collided with that wall, and, coupled with the blast, you won’t be mobile anytime soon. You broke both of your legs, your left arm, and five of your ribs. One foot is fractured in multiple places, and you have a major concussion. There appeared to be a puncture wound in your leg, though no projectile was embedded in it. Many of your internal organs took a beating from the impact. All in all, you’re lucky to be alive. Whatever you were doing, I hope it was worth it.”

Jas and I shared a glance. “It
was
worth it,” I said.

She left soon after that, but promised to check up on me periodically in the days that followed. I had the feeling that I would tire of all this bed rest, but, for now, was grateful for the short respite. Jas leaned back in a comfortable-looking chair, which he must have been sleeping on, as there was a quilt next to it. His eyes were red from sleep depravation, and a cast encased his left hand all the way to the forearm. A slight bulge underneath his shirt pointed to the use of gauze or some kind of wrap. He must have damaged his sternum, or ribs, at some point. Abrasions crisscrossed his arms, but otherwise, he seemed well enough. I was sure there were worse injuries that had been sustained the previous night.

“How is everyone?”

Jas grimaced. “Sandra didn’t make it. The Chosen and a hound overwhelmed her, though she went down fighting. Henry’s nowhere to be found, presumed dead. Monique got pretty roughed up, but she’s a fighter and she’ll come out of it. Xavier lost some teeth and some blood. He had to be stitched up like Frankenstein’s brother. Zack will have some stories to tell, but he came out fairly clean, same with Simon. Mary’s hurt pretty bad, broke some ribs and her hand, but she’s still walking around, so I suppose she’s as good as can be expected, considering.”

I grunted. “They shouldn’t have had to go through all that.”

“They made their own choices. They knew the dangers. They aren’t invalids, or rather, they weren’t invalids
at the time
.”

I uttered a noncommittal noise. “Razor?”

“Razor damn near dropped dead from all the power he was slinging around, trying to keep me alive.” Jas revealed his teeth. “I’ve got him and Bill to thank that I’m still breathing. He’s battling with his purpose in life, evidently, because he raced off into the sunset before I could get two words in this morning. He was starting to grow on me, too. Doc stitched him up nice and good, but he’s going to be one sick puppy until he gets a chance to recover. I’ve no doubt that it’s not the last we will see of him.”

I expected as much of Razor. He seemed a solo act, and without Hailey, he would be on the move again. She was most likely the only thing that grounded him to reality, and he would be ruminating upon the recent occurrences, searching for the proper course. Hell, I would be too, if I were him. I wished him luck, whichever direction he took, because he’d need it.

“Jeeves?”

“
Had been hoping to get an extended period of rest, before he was so rudely awoken
.” He flashed in, leaning lazily against the window.

Jas and I looked him over. Jeeves was probably in much the same shape as me, despite the fact that he was a mental construct. His attempt to hide his condition was endearing, but it only emphasized the injuries he had sustained. Although all his bones looked intact, he was teetering on the precipice, and it looked like he needed rest. His eyes were bloodshot and the skin that was visible was purplish, bruising. The clothes he wore were in tatters, which I had never witnessed in all the time I’d known him. I didn’t even know how one could have tattered clothing, when you could change them on a whim.

I finished appraising him. “You look like shit, Jeeves.”

“You don’t look too good yourself.” He stuck his tongue out at me, which I thought rather childish.

“Give me all the juicy details,” I said. “Then you can get your beauty sleep.” I nodded at Jeeves.

The silence stretched, and Jeeves was the first to fill it. “Your ‘parents’ are both dead, but Em and the surviving Twin escaped when the hounds imploded.”

I prepared to interrupt, but Jeeves rolled right over me. “When you did in the Kasper boy, his constructs went kaput. The remaining Chosen scattered to all corners of the globe, where Martin Drake will be sure to find them. The fact that the man was nowhere to be seen throughout the fighting says a lot about his virulent character. The Order lost a fourth of their numbers in the fighting, quite a blow, if I say so myself.” Jeeves was practically panting by this point, and he bid Jas to continue in his place.

Jas coughed into his uninjured fist. “Bill said to give you his condolences, but also congratulations on a job well done and to take some time to recuperate. He took some big hits, but somehow came out relatively unscathed, although the reason behind that is beyond my ken.”

“The city?” I asked warily.

“Still in one piece, for the most part. Razor did a number on it where he tore up the ground and made a sea of molten lava. It’s cooled by now, but its given speculators a lot of ammunition. There are dead folks strewed across Union Square, but that’s not an isolated case. There have been killings all across the city, all put down to gang violence and the widespread panic. People have been coming out about an expanding nexus of lightning in the sky, but those reports have all been written off as crazies, or attention-seekers. There’s a lot of damage to the Square itself and the roads around it, but scientists have come out and said that there was a nasty earthquake.” Jas snorted derisively. “The buildings were pretty beaten up, too, but then, almost all of the one’s that had something worth stealing were. All in all, my faith in humanity’s ignorance has been reinstated and solidified, cemented in stone. There are some websites coming out about an imminent alien invasion, if you would believe them.” Jas burst into a fit of laughter, and then clutched his side in pain.