Last Light Falling (41 page)

I escape the stuffy motel room and take a walk outside in the brisk morning air to clear my mind. I walk around the back of the building where I find Gabe sitting in the car. I’m still slightly disturbed by the nightmare, but I’m too puzzled by his seclusion from the others, so I join him.

He doesn’t say a word while I’m in the car until I speak to him in Gaelic. It’s the only time Gabe and I can connect with each other without the intrusion of the outside world distracting us—it has become our secret language that binds our spirits.

“You know I trust in you, my dear brother. No matter what happens, remember that our fate led us here,” I say in Irish.

“What then? Would you have chosen a different path if you were not called?” Gabe asks.

“I choose to believe. That’s what sets us apart from those who have nothing to live for.”

“You’re going to kill him aren’t you?”

“You know I have to.”

“Why can’t you just let it go?”

“And let Iakov continue to kill innocent people?”

“And what about the others, how are they going to feel about it?”

“I will not have Juliana suffer through this. She doesn’t deserve to be a part of war we started. I’ll have Henry take her back to the den where she will be safe. Finnegan will understand.”

“And Harold?”

“This fight is not with him. He can choose his own path.”

“We’re not going to survive this, are we?” Gabe asks as tears run down his face. Right then, I realize the true sacrifice that separates us from our souls.

“Look what we’ve made of this world. Do we really deserve to live?”

“I just can’t understand all of this madness.”

“I know it’s hard, but we were never meant to comprehend everything. Sometimes you just have to leave it for Him.”

“I don’t know how I can.”

“If you don’t, you’ll just end up doubting your convictions.”

“I think I’d rather be dead.”

“Remember when Mom would tell us that people fear what they don’t understand?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s that fear that makes us vulnerable to our sins.”

“Then I fear it has consumed me.”

“We worry too much about the things we can’t explain, and when it’s time to live life, it has become too late.”

“And now?”

“And now … I believe it will only rob us the tomorrow we could have had today. It serves no purpose; it is but a separation between our spirit and our flesh.” Gabe leans back in the seat with his eyes closed. Whether or not he wants to hear the truth, there’s something deeper that troubles him. When I search his face, all I see is unrest. I feel the pain in his heart as I hold his limp shivering hand.

“I may never see Juliana again, will I?” Gabe asks.

I’m buried too deep in my own personal conflictions that I just simply don’t know how to answer his question. I want him to feel better, but I don’t want to give him a false sense of hope either, so I’m just honest with him.

“I don’t know.”

The morning fades away into the cool afternoon and our departure has come to pass. Though my plan is to go alone inside the training facility, I tell no one—even Gabe. Very few times have I kept a secret from him, but this time I must. Though he may understand, I know no one else will. All they need to know is that we’re going into that facility with guns a-blazing. I will fill them on the details later.

I sit everyone down in the motel room and explain our course of action. Henry understands and accepts his duty to take Juliana back to the den to recoup and wait for our return. It takes more convincing for Juliana to accept our decision, so I give her and Gabe some time alone to say their good-byes.

“I don’t understand why this has to continue. I thought this was over,” Juliana says, weeping.

“Until Iakov is dead, I will not find peace,” I say.

“Your obsession over this man will be the death of you.”

“Our Journey has just begun, and it’s only over when we are called to finish it,” I say.

“And when is that? When you die?” asks Juliana.

I stand there in silence, because she may have already answered her own question. I watch painfully as she hangs onto Gabe with uncertainty. I give her some comforting but promising words to temporarily soothe her as I strap up my gear. “You will see him again, I promise.”

“And as for you,” I say to Finnegan.

“You know you can’t keep me from coming with you,” he says.

“I had no intention to. I need you for this.”

“I’ll fight with you until the end,” he says as he loads his gun. Unfortunately, there is more truth to the words he speaks than the idea behind them, but now is not the time to start worrying about Finnegan. I just try to keep my focus solely on Iakov.

“Harold, you’re free to make your own decisions. This fight is not with you.”

He cocks his gun back and smiles, “I’m with you.”

Before we leave the motel, I gaze upon the faces around me, and wonder how much longer we can survive. I feel slightly disconnected from their fellowship because I know I may not come out of this alive.

We’re only about forty miles from the outer realm of the training facility where we’re headed, which makes the thirty-minute drive excruciating for Gabe and Juliana. The closer in we get, the tighter Juliana hangs on to Gabe. The anxiety of waiting in silence is excruciating.

When we are about a mile outside the training compound, I decide it’s time to introduce my plan. “Stop the car here,” I say.

“What is it, Arena?” asks Finnegan.

“The time has come,” I say as I turn to address everyone. “This is where we part our ways. From here, I go in alone.”

Everyone looks at me like I’m crazy, except for Gabe. I don’t want to be responsible for their deaths if I can help it, especially Juliana, who doesn’t deserve to suffer the anguish Gabe and I have been chosen for. My conscience just can’t bear any more.

“She’s right,” agrees Gabe, “no one will be looking for us. Their attention is solely on Arena now.”

“I need to go in alone. General Iakov wants me alive, and it’s the only way I will be able to face him.”

“This is suicide,” says Finnegan.

“So what do you want from us?” Harold asks.

“I find Iakov. You find me,” I say, as I hold up a small, pill-sized device.

“Brilliant,” says Gabe.

“What is it?” Juliana asks.

“It’s a tracking device,” says Gabe.

We get out of the car, and Gabe pulls me to the side far enough away where no one can hear us. “Arena, you can’t attach that to your clothes, you’re going to have to swallow it. What if it falls off your jacket, or …” He pauses a second. “Look, Iakov is an evil man—you’ve seen the things he is capable of doing. What if he tries to …”

I understand what my brother is alluding to; the thought of my clothes being stripped off my body so I can be sexually tortured by that man shakes my confidence.

“I won’t allow it to come to that,” I assure Gabe. “You just better be ready when I need you.” I swallow the tiny device and embrace him one last time before I say good-bye.

“Wait,” says Finnegan, “take this with you.”

“What is this for?” I ask, holding the pill.

“Just in case.”

“In case what?”

“Should you get yourself in a compromising situation, don’t hesitate to take it.” I’m a bit confused. “This pill will bide you some time and delay any sedatives that may be forced on you. There may be some hallucinogenic side effects, but it will at least numb the pain if you need it.” he says as he hugs me.

“Thanks, Finnegan, for everything you’ve taught me.” I put the pill in my front jacket pocket and walk over to Henry.

“You promise me you will take Juliana back to the den, okay?” I ask Henry. He nods, looking at me like he’s wondering if he will ever see me again.

I stand there for a moment, staring at the people I love. When I see Juliana, I think back to the very first day Gabe and I met her in the cafeteria. She was sitting there all alone, quiet, and not knowing the instant crush Gabe had for her. Seems like many moons ago I was starting my first day of high school, trying to avoid making enemies for the year— I guess nothing has changed.

I watch Juliana hold Gabe, delaying the inevitable, as it has come time that we sever our fellowship.

As Henry and Juliana drive away in Harold’s car, Gabe stands there with a guarded heart, trying to keep his composure. I walk over and put my arm around him. “I’ll get you back home to her … that’s a promise.”

Instead of taking the front road, I find a rocky but quick passage through the woods that will be less conspicuous. This will be the shortest path that will lead me through this thicket to the front gates. It seems a bit of an obstacle, but I’ve traversed terrain you wouldn’t have thought possible.

Just across the ditch into the thick woods, a steep ravine with rocky soil poses my first challenge. I have to awkwardly scale down the side of the stony hill before I can hike on the somewhat-level ground below. If I had hiking shoes, this might be an easier feat, but my boots were not made for gripping jagged rocks, and it’s made an otherwise easy climb a difficult descent.

I finally make it down the side of the hill and onto flatter ground, where I’m greeted by a field of prickly thistles and thorny briar patches. If this is fertile soil, it’s a hot breeding bed of everything that’s completely opposite of beauty and purpose. The only things worth seeing are the tall eastern white pines and the few sporadic sycamore trees that make up most of the dense forest.

In the distance, I spot a fence tall enough to keep out unwanted predators, which in this case includes me. I’m not much for sightseeing when I’m on the hunt, but I can’t help to take in the beauty of a rare bald eagle stately perched on the fence in front of me.

The irony of this majestic bird that once represented freedom for this country balances on a fence created by the same government who has destroyed the will to be free. This marvelous creature before me teeters on the brink of the unholy on one side and the freedom to believe on the other. The near extinction of this magnificent bird has been dying along with this nation, and it would only be fitting to just go ahead and kill him. This country is already dead. It’s the persecution and horrendous affliction by the government on its own people that’s so besetting.

I try not to disturb the conflicted eagle, so I walk down a little further and choose a different spot to climb over the fence. By the time I get to the next open field, I’m already within a hundred yards of the training compound. I can see the front entrance from here, and only two guards seem to be tending the gates, but by the looks of the four cameras resting atop the gated entrance, there really is no need for any more guards. This compound is tightly monitored and probably filled with teams of killing machines inside.

I do see one rogue camera placed on a tree that is rotating about ninety degrees back and forth, panning the outside area where I’m standing. They are going to know I’m here soon enough, but I try to make it a little harder for them to see me right away. I’m not sure I can squeeze off a round this far away to take out the panning camera, so I decide to take a shot with my bow.

I pull back an arrow and wait patiently until the camera pans back away from me before firing. I release the arrow, but it only knocks the camera off its hanger, and it dangles toward the ground. I shoot one more arrow into the side of the camera, cutting it loose from its wires and from the tree.

I wait patiently to see if they have noticed the lost picture on one of their screens. They may or may not send someone to check it out, but I’m willing to wait anyhow. Just as I turn my head, I see one of the guards heading in my direction where the camera has fallen on the ground.

He examines the damage, then suddenly looks up in the tree, where he spots the first arrow I shot. He quickly pulls his gun and carefully moves forward. I try not to waste any bullets, so I draw another
arrow from my quiver as quietly as possible and rest it on the bow shelf, pulled back and ready to release it into the air.

The man calls on a radio about the arrow, but before he can get out a full sentence, I swing around and fire the arrow directly into his neck. It fails to pierce his artery, so I have to finish him off with my dagger. I grab his earpiece and hear someone trying to contact him. I take the radio receiver and creep up toward the gate, expecting the other guard to abandon his post to see what’s taking so long.

“Guard, what is your status?” asks a voice on the radio.

“It’s probably just a bad signal where he is, sir. That area can be spotty sometimes,” says another man in the background. Apparently, the transmitter from their side is left on, because I can hear their whole conversation.

“Sir, should I call for maintenance?” asks the operator.

“We’ll have it checked out later; it’s probably just a squirrel chewing on the wires again. We’re about to start the training exercise,” another man says.

“That’s no damn squirrel, Lieutenant,” says a voice I now recognize as General Iakov.

“Sir, I assure you, we have had squirrel issues before with the outside cameras,” reaffirms the lieutenant.