Finding Sage (The Rogue Book 1) (10 page)

18.

Silas runs in the night, an enormous dark figure chasing him.  He runs through city streets paved with brick and there are stone buildings on either side of him.  Most of the street lights are out; the ones that are on flicker mockingly, a fact which Silas attributes to the certainty of his own demise: even the surroundings mock him.

              His muscles throb and his heart threatens to burst out of his chest as he runs down the street.  He considers turning in an alley but is afraid he will be caught.  He tries instead to outrun his assailant.  His heart rate increases more still and his vision becomes blurry as his heightened state distracts his focus.  The barriers of his mind come crashing down and his senses pick up a singular conscience: a conscience so overpowering it causes Silas to trip over his own feet, unable to pick himself up of his own power.  He turns on the ground to face his attacker.  As the figure draws close, he sees what it is: a large black wolf.  On all fours it is at least six feet tall and its sleek black fur shines in the moonlight, as do its reflective eyes, which look like large black marbles, completely lacking pity. 

              To Silas’ surprise, he sees a gold necklace hanging from the monster’s neck.  It bears the symbol of a small bird’s head.  Silas feels a brush of familiarity, but it is overshadowed by his peril.  He trembles and frantically looks for an exit.  He stumbles backwards, but the monster lunges for him, jaws open wide…

He woke with a thud as he crashed onto the floor.  His throat was sore from screaming and he was drenched with sweat.  His back seared with pain, like it had been torn open by a beast.  He slowly ran his fingers over his back, to ensure that nothing was wrong.  His flesh was completely intact.  He slowed his breathing; but the searing pain in his back was slow to subside.  After several minutes, it did.  He gained enough courage to lift his head and saw Lilly staring at him.  He saw wet spots around her eyes and realized that she had been crying.  He wanted to apologize to her, to tell her everything would be alright, but he did not have the strength to speak.

              “You alright, buddy?” Zeke asked from the cockpit.

              The memories of the past day flooded into Silas’ mind and he remembered that he was on a plane, flying to Eli, and the pilot, Zeke, worked for Eli.  He was sleeping in one of the chairs nearest the cockpit, but had fallen out due to thrashing while he slept.

              Silas’ nightmares were always like this, but until his capture, nightmares were a seldom occurrence and not nearly as vivid.  They had left him helpless and weak, not to mention vulnerable should they be attacked in the night. 

              Lilly recognized his weakness and took the liberty of speaking for him.

              “He’s awake now.”

              “Hang in there, son.  It’s morning now and we’re only about an hour away from landing.  I’m sure Eli will know something to do with you.”

              Silas allowed his head to fall back to the floor and concentrated on his breathing, trying to regain his strength.

             
‘I sure hope you’re right, Zeke.  Because I don’t know how much more of this I can take.’

19.

                In the city of London, everything seemed normal.  The sun was shining down with mild temperatures and people went about their business.  Soldiers walked up and down the streets, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity.  While the city lived life as usual, Eli stood on the roof of the famed Liberty Hall, where the last remnant of the British government was eradicated by U.N. agents nearly thirty years ago. 

              He scratched his scruffy beard and squinted his eyes, looking into the morning sun.  He had been nervous ever since he sent Zeke to find the Knight boy.  Given modern times, electronic communication just wasn’t an option, so he hadn’t heard anything from Zeke.  Was he dead?  Was he captured?  There was no way of knowing. 

              “Eli,” said a voice behind him.

              Eli turned to see a blonde teenage boy.  Alan was his name.  His face was indicative of curiosity and concern.

              “Yeah?”

              “Alexander is here,” he said with a hint of confusion and uncertainty.  “He has three guys with him who he wants us to take in.”

              Eli frowned slightly.  Alexander’s operation was in Egypt, where they faced dangers not only from the U.N. but from the Arab Zealots as well.  He was a young leader, which had caused him to be fearful of insubordination, so he rarely left his post.  It must have been important for him to come personally all the way to London, and “important” could easily be a euphemism for bad news.

              “Send ‘em up.”

              Alan left, leaving Eli to contemplate current events.  After the disaster in Indiana, he had quickly fled to England, his old home.  He only had to feign his death after recovering from the cut in his throat, but those he had been giving refuge to were not so lucky.  They were dead.  Every single one of them dead.  After a debacle like that, he knew he couldn’t go back to North America.  The intensified presence of U.N. officials there made it a difficult place to rescue rogues, and all he had done was give them a more brutal death. 

In Africa, the Zealots, U.N. fanatics given some authority by the U.N., took care of most of the rebels and kept fear instilled in the people.  They were violent, hotheaded, and often looked for an excuse to pull out a weapon, but they were also slow and unintelligent.  It wasn’t like North America, where officers lined the streets—every street that hadn’t been burned, that is. 

The war had been long and bloody, and the American Midwest had housed the last tenacious rebels, still fighting to the very last breath.  Indiana and Ohio had banded together and fought their very last battle in the hills of Southern Indiana.  They were outnumbered by more than 100,000 to 1.  The soldiers torched most of the two states, just to make a statement.  The U.N. was apparently still wary of that area of the world, because they never balanced out their forces in other parts of the world.  Even as Eli had been living there, he nearly shook in fear thinking of the death and bloodshed had seen there.

Since having arrived in England, Eli had spent all of his resources in an effort to find Silas.  In the process, he had also found Alice and Rodge again.  He was surprised that they had survived, and immediately took steps to bring them to London as well.  If the children he had rescued could not be saved, at least he could save Alice and Rodge.

The children . . .

Eli shook in rage, clenching his fists as heat flared up through his body.  Twenty-three of them.  Just kids.  Liam was 13.  Rose, 12.  Amber and Christian were both 7, the tightest friends at that age he’d ever seen.  Tyler was 9. He’d always remember his bright smile and typical masculine obsession with fire.  Christian, Marie, and Dane were all only 7.  Kyle, 8.  Damian, 10—no, 11.  He’d just had a birthday the week before the attack.  Chandler was 13, and  deathly afraid of talking to girls.  Levi 14, and stuck to Chandler tighter than a brother.  Elijah was 10.  Crystal, 7.  Riley was 9.  David was 14, and wasn’t even a rogue.  He was there for his young brother Benjamin, just a 12-year-old kid.  Diana was 10 and her sister Marian was 11.  Clara, an adorable 9-year-old, could heal others and had an inherent compassion about her that Eli loved.  Zach, 12-year-old computer genius, had dreams of hacking the U.N. firewall and allowing free access to the internet’s vast database of information and knowledge.  Andrew, 14, mostly kept to himself but was known for being a fantastic peacemaker.  Rich, 8 years old, had a cowlick he was embarrassed about.  Allison, 7, once told him that she thought it was cute.

Every single one of them were slaughtered.  Killed without a second glance.  Benjamin died despite David’s efforts to protect him.  Clara would never smile at another’s good health again.  Chandler would never have his first date.  Eli, despite his strength, wasn’t able to save a single one of them.  They all died on his watch, at his camp.  He could never forgive himself, and wouldn’t want to if he could.

              As he was deep in thought, Alexander walked onto the roof with Tariq, Salah, and Ishmael following him.  Alexander smiled as he saw Eli, which Eli tried to return, but it looked more like a grimace than anything.  He hugged the young man tightly, trying to remember that not all of his endeavors were failures.

              “I have missed you, Eli,” said Alexander with his thick accent.

              “I have too, bro,” Eli replied.

              Eli peeked behind Alexander to look at his companions.  Alexander didn’t appear to be worried, but Eli couldn’t help but feel a sense of apprehension as he looked at Alexander’s companions. 

              “So who da broskies?”

              Tariq looked Eli up and down suspiciously.  His scruffy beard, bug-sized green eyes, skinny jeans, and beanie cap disgusted Tariq to an extent that his overenthusiastic tongue could not hide.

              “I didn’t know we’d be getting protection from a peace-crazed stoner.  This changes everything!”

              “Tariq—” Salah mumbled in a warning tone under his breath. 

              “Trust me Salah, this is not where we need to be.”

              Eli ignored Tariq’s remark and looked the three brothers up and down very closely.  Something about Eli’s look made Ishmael feel slightly violated, and he receded in self-consciousness.  Salah was also uncertain.  He had come to trust Alexander, but reminded himself that Alexander was not any older than he, and could easily be deceived by an eccentric yet double-faced man.  Still, he could sense nothing in the man that threw a red flag, although he realized his own emotions could be clouding his senses.

Tariq, still angry that he was not in control of their situation, silently fumed while Eli paced nervously, rubbing his hands while he was doing so.

“Nervous habit,” he said in response to Tariq’s befuddled look.  “So, why’d ya bring them to me, Alec?”

              “I was hoping we could speak about that privately,” Alexander responded.

              “There’s no reason to exclude them,” Eli said without taking his eyes off of Tariq.  He stood only a few inches from Tariq and his eyes widened as he waited for Alexander’s response, which made Tariq feel extremely awkward.

              Alexander looked around nervously before proceeding.  He carefully avoided eye contact with the three brothers.

              “I received some intelligence the day before we left.  The U.N. has found our location.”

              “And you didn’t evacuate?”

              “We’re in the middle of the desert.  We don’t have the resources to transport so many people, and nowhere to take them discreetly if we did.  We have enough soldiers and weapons to fight, but I didn’t want them there.  They’re newcomers, and I believe you will find Salah’s gift a useful one.”

              “What, you don’t think I can fight?” challenged Tariq.

              “I have no doubt,” Alexander replied.  “The problem is, I don’t trust you.”

              “You’d rather
I
take the untrustworthy strangers?” Eli asked.

“You can keep him . . . in line,” said Alec methodically.

Eli looked at the ground for a moment, engaged in careful thought.  He paced back and forth for a moment.  Salah sensed curiosity in their new friend.  He heard Eli mumbling under his breath and tried to catch what he was saying, but was only able to catch one short phrase:
What are you up to, Sage?
Mention of the name sent curiosity flaring in Salah’s own mind, but his thoughts were quickly pushed to the back of his mind by Eli’s interest.

              “Really?”

              “W-what?” asked Alexander.

              “You really think his gift would be useful?”

              “That was thirty seconds a—”

“I wasn’t asking you, hotshot!” he said to Tariq.

He looked into Salah’s eyes and half-squinted his right eye, attempting to look discerning.  Salah shifted uncomfortably. 

              “I can take them.”

              “You don’t want to know what he does?” Ishmael blurted out.

              “Nah.”

              Tariq didn’t move an inch, but Ishmael cast a confused look at Alexander who simply shrugged. 

              Eli walked back to the edge of the roof, patiently waiting for the other companions he was expecting.  He heard Tariq complain behind him and his brother Salah berate him, but he paid them no mind.  He waited patiently, enduring the torture of silence for several minutes.  He was beginning to wonder if his friends were going to make it.  Then he heard a voice behind him.

              “Can I join the party?”

              Eli smiled and the ring of joy in the voice of his old friend brought warmth to his discouraged spirit.  His friend was back, and he was successful.     

“Come in, Zeke.”

              Silas’ eyes grew wide in amazement as he saw Eli.  His eyes were instantly drawn to his stomach.  He searched for all possible signs of a stab wound, even something as small as a bump under his shirt that would be evidence of a bandage.  He saw nothing.  On the contrary, Eli seemed to be in perfect health.  Silas stared at him with wonder and confusion.

              Lilly hid behind Silas as he walked onto the roof, afraid of what might happen to them here.  Her consciousness brushed up against his and he could feel the fear and uncertainty flooding through her like a broken dam in her mind.  He cringed as he understood the fear that plagued her and placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to reassure her.  She relaxed her tense shoulders a bit and Silas turned his gaze back to Eli, still mesmerized by his presence.

              “Eli?”

              “You got it, bro.”

              “But you look . . . well.”

              “Yep.”

              “Someday soon you need to tell me how you do it.”

              “I have a few tricks up my sleeve too,” he replied with a slight slur in his words.  “And now that you guys are here, we can get on with this rad plan here, ya dig?”

              “Will somebody
please
tell me what this moron is saying?” Tariq insisted impatiently.

              “Button it, Lucy!” Zeke snapped.  “Listen to the man.”

              Tariq curled his upper lip but remained quiet nonetheless.

              “Alright guys, here’s what’s goin’ on,” Eli said.  “You are all here because you got some beef with the U.N.  We’re here to give you a chance to do somethin’ about it.  You get me?”

              Before anyone had a chance to respond, Alan popped his head into the doorway with more news.

              “Bro, I’ve got a couple people here that are looking for Sage,” he said reluctantly.  Eli hung his head in resignation, frustrated at the young man’s interruption.  He turned to Alan with an impatient look on his face.

              “Come on, man.  Does anyone listen to me when I’m talking?”

              “I’m sorry, but they wanted to see who’s in charge here.”

              Alice and Rodge peeked out from behind Alan to get a look at what was happening, and Alice, unable to see Eli due to Alan being in her line of sight, could only see Silas.  The sight of him brought everything back.  She remembered that night in the forest, watching Eli die before her very eyes, the anger that had driven her to chase after him, to plot to kill him.  She remembered the disappointment of her dream being crushed, her only ray of hope in years dying before her eyes. 

In a moment of unrestrained rage she pushed Alan out of the way and ran for Silas.  Silas was quicker than she and knocked the gun out of her hand before she could shoot him.  He quickly blocked her punches but she caught him unaware with a kick square in the chest and knocked him to the ground.  She pinned him to the ground and drew a hunting knife from her right leather boot.  Those behind her were delayed in reacting.  Eli drew a sword in order to stop her but Rodge picked up the fallen gun and pointed it at Eli, who instinctively stopped.  He considered advancing, but decided to watch it play out and observed with contentment. 

Silas met her gaze as she steadied her hand, ready to drive the blade through his heart; but as she began to move, her hand stopped.  She tried to move her hand but it was petrified.  He looked her in the eye and spoke.