Blood Colony (35 page)

Twenty yards from her, toward Lucas’s quarters, another body lay on the floor. Yonas was down, too. A gleaming red hole sat above the bridge of Yonas’s nose, a third eye. He had been shot. He and Fasilidas weren’t truly dead, but they were dead enough.

And Lucas’s door was wide open. Jessica felt her heart crack.
Oh, God.

“Lucas?” Jessica whispered, peeking into her brother-in-law’s quarters. “Jared?”

The room was empty. A pot of coffee, two mugs and a sandwich on a plate sat on the table, as if Lucas and Jared had been interrupted during a meal. Quickly, Jessica searched the only hiding places—under the beds, inside the small closet. No one was here.

Panic and grief shredded Jessica. If something had happened to Fana’s cousin, Fana would be devastated! This time, the empty tunnel and its guardian corpses felt so ominous that Jessica had to fight to breathe, like her mother. The underground shelter looked like a glorified tomb.

By the time she reached Abena’s silent quarters, Jessica knew that Teferi’s wives and children were gone, too. Toys were strewn on the floor, abandoned next to small suitcases lined up by the door. Bowls of food sat on the table. They had been eating, too.
But what happened to them?

Could Lucas have somehow orchestrated an escape, taking the others with him? The idea lightened Jessica’s heart, but she couldn’t imagine how. Lucas was no fighter, and neither was Jared. Besides, Fasilidas and Yonas had had too great an advantage: Yonas was a practiced telepath too, and would have known the plot as soon as it was born.

It had to be Sanctus Cruor. Other immortals. She couldn’t believe any government agency could have found them so quickly, or overtaken the colony with such ease. No wonder Fana had burrowed her way into Alex’s body, warning her to run!

One last open door remained: Teka’s.
Please be there, Teka. Please be deep in meditation, oblivious to what’s happened. I need you.

But Teka’s sparsely furnished quarters were empty, too. For the first time since she’d found Fasilidas crumpled outside of her door, Jessica felt helpless tears sting her eyes.

SYSTEM BUSY, her phone insisted again when she tried.

The lights at the east end of the tunnel were more dim, nearly dark. Her legs pumped as fast as she could make them move as she forgot her cautious pace and ran toward the last room, the communications center. Maybe she could find a working phone! She had to tell Dawit.

The comm center door was open, too, but Jessica trembled with despair when she came within six feet of it: A Life Brother named Kelile lay unconscious in the doorway, facedown, his fingers spread as if he had fallen clawing the floor. A trail of blood snaked from Kelile’s head, pooling around the baton still in his hand. A sob swelled in Jessica’s throat.

Inside, the comm room was the scene of a massacre. The Life Brothers had been meeting when they’d been surprised: Two more were slumped over the small round conference table, still in their seats. The room smelled like blood. Jessica’s stomach curdled, trying to empty itself.

“My apologies, Jessica,” a quiet voice said. “I hoped to spare you such a startling sight.”

Jessica knew the calm voice before she gazed toward the rear of the room, where the communications console sat, but her mind rejected the knowledge. She had to
see
him.

Even when she saw, she didn’t want to believe. Her mind spun, searching for an answer.

A dolphin’s smile.
That was the phrase that came to Jessica’s head when she saw Teka sitting in the console’s leather office chair, his hands folded in his lap. Smiling peacefully.

Unlike the other Life Brothers, Teka was wearing his traditional white tunic, still sprinkled with the blood from Cal’s attack. Or was it someone else’s blood?

“Whuh…” Her first attempt to speak was fruitless. Her mouth was confused, too. “What’s going on, Teka?”

Even now, if he had the right explanation, Jessica longed to run to Teka and embrace him. He had survived! But Teka’s smile kept her rooted in place. He was no longer her friend, even if she didn’t understand why.
Shoot him,
her mind advised with cool, detached logic.

Teka’s smile vanished.

“First,” he said, “you’ll need to put down that gun.”

Jessica’s arm slammed the gun to the table with such force that she crushed her own fingers. Jessica screamed. Her pinky pulsed with such a flare of hot pain that she was sure she’d broken it, but her scream was from terror, not pain. She had lost dominion over her own body! Raw helplessness swamped her, a horror matched only by the horror of watching her daughter die.

Teka rose slowly to his feet. Jessica tried to run away from him, but although she could feel the clothes on her skin and the floor beneath her feet, her body ignored her mind’s pleas. She couldn’t retreat from Teka any more than she could control the quivering of her bones.

Teka stood in front of her, only two inches taller, with a teenager’s smooth face. One slow tear crawled from his left eye, the only part of him she recognized. He stood so close to her that their noses nearly touched.

I AM SO SORRY, DEAR JESSICA. I DID NOT MEAN TO CAUSE YOU PAIN.

That single tear, and the tenderness of Teka’s voice in her head, gave Jessica hope. “Teka…,” she said, relieved to discover that she could still speak. “It’s all right. Just let me go. Whatever’s happened—”

“We must have a moment of honesty between us,” Teka said. “We must unburden ourselves from what we have kept hidden.”

Teka gently rested his palm on Jessica’s shoulder. Slowly, his hand journeyed down her arm, until his warm hand passed the fabric of her T-shirt and cupped her skin in a lingering caress that made her flesh recoil. Fresh panic gripped her, primal. Teka’s forearm brushed against her chest, across her breast. Almost accidentally.

Teka rested his chin on her shoulder, his mouth near her ear. “I know,” Teka breathed. “Often, you have looked at me and seen all of Dawit’s lost potential. But for his life’s sorrows, and his own excesses, Dawit might have been as gentle as my twin. Your heart never allowed the thoughts to surface, but I know your needs better than you, Jessica. You prefer me to Dawit.”

Tears scalded Jessica’s face.

“Truth is painful,” Teka said, nodding. He stroked her fingers, and suddenly the throbbing pain from her injury was gone. Erased. “I, too, have felt pain. I followed my Teacher’s path so closely that I never heeded the call of my heart. My loins. How often have I wished that I, like Dawit, had disobeyed Khaldun to follow the heady currents of my heart? Then you would be mine—and Fana might be my own child.”

Another tear joined the first on Teka’s cheek. Gently, he squeezed her fingers.

“
Take your fucking hand off of me,
” Jessica said through gritted teeth.

Teka’s eyebrows shot up. His smile was stuck in place, but his eyes glimmered. He pulled his hand away, taking a single step back, and Jessica trembled with relief.

“Such coarseness does not suit the Blessed Mother, Jessica.”

Jessica didn’t have time to spew the obscenities churning in her mind, but she was glad he could hear each one. “What have you done, Teka?”

PLEASE DO NOT BELIEVE I COULD EVER BETRAY YOU.

“Where are Lucas and Jared?” she said. “And the children?”

Teka walked away. He took his seat at the console and turned his back to her, typing on the computer as if he had forgotten her.

“Where are they?” Jessica shouted. “You
will
answer me!”

“Ah…You are a queen even when you are a captive.”

THEY ARE SAFE, JESSICA. I WILL NOT HARM THEM UNLESS I AM FORCED.

Teka seemed to have been transformed into two people. The voice she heard in her head sounded so much more like the Teka she knew!

Please, Teka,
she begged him, trying to offer her thoughts.
Tell me what’s happened.

I AM SO SORRY FOR ALL I HAVE DONE—AND YET WILL DO.

Has Sanctus Cruor done something to you?

PLEASE DO NOT COMPEL ME TO SILENCE YOU, JESSICA.

Desperation clouded Jessica’s thoughts, and she gave up straining to send him mental messages. “Teka, my mother needs help. It’s her heart! You know how weak she is. Please let me bring Lucas to her.”

This time, Teka ignored her. No soothing voice entered her head.

“There.” Teka’s chair whirled around, and he faced her with an unblemished smile. “Our flight has been approved. The FAA is not nearly so clever as it believes. Its computer security is rudimentary at best.”

“Please let me take care of my mother, Teka,” Jessica said. “She’s Fana’s grandmother!”

“Do not look so sad, Blessed Mother,” Teka said. “You cannot see it now in your ignorance, but this is a day for rejoicing! You will meet your new son, the union that was foretold in ancient times. As the supreme wedding gift, you are to be reunited with your daughter!”

Moments before, Jessica would have been overjoyed at the prospect of seeing Fana again, no matter how troubling or mysterious the circumstances. Now, her heart languished as she wondered how she could endure admitting to her child how badly she had failed her.

Ed Carlson Memorial Field
Three miles north of Toledo
3 p.m.

L
ucas berated himself as the black SUV carried him across the asphalt tarmac of the Toledo-Winlock airport, past rows of grounded prop planes. He had never trusted that SOB Teka—not since the day Teka had shown up at their colony with that empty fucking smile. He and Alex had always wondered why Jessica and Dawit treated the boyish man like a demigod, entrusting Fana to him without reservation.
What were they thinking?

What had any of them been thinking?

Lucas’s stomach ate a hole in itself every time he thought about the Duharts, but he had to face facts: He hadn’t seen any sign of Cal, Nita and their kids, so they were probably dead. And he and Jessica had offered their friends to Teka on a sacrificial altar. How could they have believed Teka would send the Duharts happily off to catch a plane to freedom?

And he’d brought Jared home! Lucas heard himself moan softly. His insides tangled, doubling him over. He still felt faint, but it wasn’t from last night’s injuries. Had he saved Jared from illness only to lose him so senselessly now?

Jared sat like a stone beside him in the vehicle with his knees pressed tightly together, his eyes on his window. Lucas and Jared were bound together hand and foot with bands that looked like clear plastic rings but felt strong as iron.

Shackled. There was no other word for it.

Lucas felt haunted by the memory of his last night with Alex, when she’d been packing and he’d been in such denial that he’d gone upstairs to bed. Instead of helping her salvage their lives, he’d gone to sleep. Just like poor Cal said.

Almost two hours ago, Teka had slipped into their quarters like a ghost and put his gun to Jared’s temple. He’d explained that if Lucas uttered a word of protest, he would shoot Jared dead. As soon as Teka had spoken, Lucas’s eyesight had vanished; his world had become completely black. Lucas had let out a yell, as terrorized as a child locked in a dark closet. The sensation had lasted only two or three seconds, but Teka’s demonstration had made its point.

So Lucas had kept his mouth shut. He’d done everything he’d been told. As far as he knew, Teka had not exerted any further mental manipulation. Jared was all the control Teka had needed.

It was a chilling
déjà vu
: He and Alex, then strangers, had been kidnaped from the clinic where Alex had been distributing blood in Botswana. Then, like now, they had witnessed a collection of the dead at the hands of their captors. The fallen Life Brothers in the shelter might rejuvenate in a few hours, but the bodies had terrified the shrieking children.

The Life Brother who’d met them at the vehicle, Jima, had repeated Teka’s threat in more graceless language:
I require silence. If any monkey within my hearing speaks a single word, your children will die.
Obediently, Abena and Sharmila had kept silent, except for involuntary, bitter wails when Teka had taken the boys away.

Teka was driving the children separately in an SUV behind them, another control tactic. The women still sniffled and sobbed quietly in the backseat as they clung to each other and gazed desperately out the rear window to try to get a glimpse of Miruts, Natan and Debashish, their sons with Teferi. But nobody in their vehicle dared to utter a whisper.

Alex was in the vehicle behind them too, along with Bea and Jessica. Lucas and Jared had watched through their window with anxious eyes while Teka and the sole remaining Life Brother had transferred Alex, and then Bea, into the SUV from the shelter opening. Bea had looked as limp as a scarecrow as the men had lifted her, and Lucas had been able to gauge Bea’s deterioration from Jessica’s face. Lucas had never seen Jessica look so abject, already in mourning.

Until then, Lucas had honestly wondered if Teka’s new tough tactics had had Jessica’s blessing.

But Jessica was a prisoner, too.

Alex didn’t look any worse than when he’d seen her last, but their separation had felt final when the other vehicle’s doors had shut them away from each other, toward what might be separate destinies. Teka’s passengers were related by direct blood to either Fana or a Life Brother, and the rest of them were not. That meant that Alex and the rest of Teka’s cargo might be safer.

Lucas wished that gave him solace, but it didn’t. Not with his only son stuck beside him.

At the airport, the colony’s shiny executive jet came into sight at the end of the runway, dwarfing the smaller planes. Jared gave him a questioning gaze, jarred by the sight of the plane. Lucas could only shake his head and shrug.
They’re flying us somewhere, but I don’t know where.
Gestures were his poor man’s telepathy.

Lucas had traveled on the colony’s Legacy 600 luxury jet often, back when his work had taken him between Washington and Accra, Gaborone, Johannesburg and Beijing. Maybe he would find a way to forgive himself one day for what hindsight told him was unforgivable stupidity; but in those days, he had been intoxicated by the sight of the world changing before his eyes.

Back then, this plane had represented euphoric hope. Now it was only a mobile prison. Long, narrow steps led from the tarmac to the cabin door, which yawned open up high.

Jima braked the vehicle under the plane’s wing, and Teka pulled up alongside him. Jima climbed out without a word or a glance behind him, slamming his door.

“Oh, God, please help us…,” Abena whispered, her voice trembling. “Are Teka and Jima possessed by Satan? What have we done to deserve this?”

“
Shhhhh,
” Sharmila said sharply. “Do as they say, woman. If you talk, they’ll kill us all.”

“Are the boys hurt?” Abena said. “Oh,
God
…” Her voice was rising, creeping toward hysteria. If she started screaming, Sharmila’s prophecy might come to pass.

Lucas looked back at Abena’s round, pretty face and forced his lips to smile. “They just want to take us on a trip,” he said. “I’ve been on this plane, and it’s first-class luxury all the way. The boys are fine. Just keep calm, follow directions. You’ll see, darlin’.”

“Cross your heart?” Jared muttered, their sacred oath from his youth.

Instead of answering, Lucas patted his son’s knee, then squeezed hard.
Hope to God.

This time, all four of them craned to see through Jared’s window. The immortals rapidly carried Bea out of the SUV, then up the steep steps to the cabin. Bea’s eyes were closed as she swayed in their arms; Lucas hoped she was only resting.

Time passed, and Teka and Jima returned for Alex.

Just as before, Lucas felt relieved when Alex appeared. She was still unconscious, but she was alive. Before they carried her into the plane, even through the tinted window, he could see his wife’s chest moving with steady breathing. He and Jared held hands, both of them savoring the only morsel of joy in their day.

Next, Jessica emerged from the back of the vehicle, walking in a shuffle because of the restraints around her ankles. She didn’t glance Lucas’s way, preoccupied with helping the three boys out behind her. Through the glass, Lucas heard Jessica’s assurances and the boys’ crying.

“Oh my God…Lord Jesus, what will we do?” Abena whispered, her face pressed to the window as she squeezed beside Jared and Lucas. Her skin was hot. Fevered.

“Easy…,” Lucas said softly. “They’re fine, Abena.”

Long-legged Natan came first, looking taller than his ten years, and then the younger two. The boys had not been shackled when Teka had first taken them from their mothers, but they were tied together now. Just like Lucas and Jared, they were bound by a wrist and ankle to the one behind them, a human train. They nearly stumbled out of the SUV, their balance was so hindered.

Lucas’s vision blurred as ancestral memories filmed his eyes with tears. The shackled children reminded him of a horrifying photograph he had seen of the hold of a slave ship crowded with nothing but the faces of the young, an image he’d wanted to forget as soon as it had polluted his eyes. That photograph had filled him with rage, but not as much as this.

Abena was breathing so fast that she was close to hyperventilating. Whimpers bled from her throat. Lucas held her shoulders tightly as Sharmila held her waist from behind. When Jima glanced in their direction, Lucas’s body went cold.

“It’s OK,” Lucas whispered, desperate to soothe Abena. “They’re fine. See? They’re fine.
Shhhhhh
. It’s OK.”

Lucas didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Jima looked away from them, back toward Jessica and the children. As the group ascended the metal stairs, vanishing inside the plane, Lucas wondered if this was where they would be separated for good.

This time, no one emerged.

Should they try to run? Was that their only option?

Lucas leaned forward to check the ignition, just in case the keys were still there. No keys, of course. As soon as he moved, Jima came trotting back down the steps.
If he jumps back behind that driver’s seat, the only place he’ll take us is a mass grave,
Lucas thought. He sat back quickly, watching Jima’s approach with a chest-rattling combination of fear and hopefulness that paralyzed his higher thinking centers; he was only a beast in a cage, like any other.

Jima flung open the SUV’s passenger door beside him, filling the vehicle with sunlight. Abena gasped, squirming beneath Sharmila’s strong grip.

“Come out one at a time,” Jima said. “You will board the plane. Move quickly.”

Thank you,
Lucas thought, testing a prayer as his fingers tightened around his seat’s fabric.
Thank you, God.

All the while, he knew they should be anything but grateful.

Far beneath them, the woods were burning. Her home was afire.

As the jet soared over Toledo with clamoring engines, Jessica couldn’t see the Big House or the school in the sprawling acreage of green woods. But she guessed that the sudden wildfire sending smoke to chase them into the sky was neither coincidence nor accident. Besides, her heart knew: Yet another blood mission had ended in destruction.

Everything she and David had built was gone. Again.

Aren’t we doing your bidding, Lord? Why are we punished so?

Jessica’s eyes ached. Mercifully, the plane’s ascent stole her into the clouds, and the world below yielded to white sky. But there was no reprieve from the sound of the children’s frightened cries, or from her mother’s dying face.

Jessica was alone in the plane’s rear section with Bea, who lay on the leather sofa, her face twisted in pain. As the plane shuddered, climbing, Jessica sat on her knees on the carpeted floor beside her mother, holding Bea’s clammy hand.

Teka and Jima had closed the doors to cordon off the plane’s three sections: Abena, Sharmila and the children were in the first-class section closest to Teka and Jima in the cockpit—most vulnerable to an attack. Lucas, Jared and Alex were in the middle section, with Alex’s seat fully reclined to make her a bed as she slept. Jessica had hardly had the chance to ask Lucas’s advice before they’d been shut away from each other, the doors between cabins closed.
Watch her monitor,
was all Lucas had said before Jima had snapped him silent. But watch it for what?

Jessica didn’t have to understand the monitor’s staccato signals to know what impending death looked like. Bea was sweating profusely, and her struggles to breathe were torture to Jessica’s ears. Bea would die on this plane unless they intervened.

Jessica’s ankles were bound together with a six-inch cord between them, so she shuffled to the cabin door that separated her from the rest of the plane.

Jessica pounded on the locked door, calling out. The doors weren’t metal, but they were sturdy. “Teka!” she yelled. “Fana’s grandmother needs medical attention! If you care about Fana, you’ll let Lucas help her!”

Silence, except for the engines.

“Teka, you’ll answer to Fana if something goes wrong!” As if Fana was Vengeance itself. Could Teka even hear her? Jessica closed her eyes.
Teka? I know you can hear my thoughts, even if you don’t hear my words. Please let me save Fana’s grandmother.

Only the hum of the plane’s Rolls Royce engines answered her, along with a muffled sob from little Debashish, who was inconsolable at the front of the plane even in his mother’s lap.

Jessica banished her panic. She didn’t have Lucas’s medical expertise, but she had the Living Blood. Jessica looked at her fingernails, which were uneven but long. If she had to claw her skin until she bled, she wasn’t going to sit by and do nothing while her mother died.

“Jessica.” Bea’s wind-soft voice.

Bea’s eyes were bright, struggling to stay wide open. Her knowing gaze made Jessica remember that her mother had been the first mind reader in her life. Bea held out her unsteady hand, and Jessica stumbled toward her.

Bea squeezed Jessica’s hand, her grip firm. “You remember…that promise…you made me?” An unfamiliar rasp, and that horrible gurgle underneath.

Jessica’s strength melted. She shook her head so violently that her neck hurt. “No. Mom,
no
! Don’t say that again now.”