Michael (11 page)

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Authors: Aaron Patterson

BOOK: Michael
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“Yeah, mom, it’s me.”

After a good ten minutes of excited screaming and crying and pleading, Mom and Dad finally calmed down and quit talking over each other. I missed them
so
much. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen them.

I could tell that Mom was just really glad that I was okay and unhurt. But Dad…that was another story. I had never in my life heard his voice sound that way. I guessed he was beyond angry. Maybe a little of it was directed at me, which was only human, but most of it was directed at the nameless and faceless kidnapper.
Well, he was nameless and faceless for now.
I didn’t want to see how that particular confrontation would go down.

“Mom, I know. It sounds insane, but really it was all just a misunderstanding.”

“Just tell us where you are. We will come and get you.”

Then the phone changed hands. “Airel, this is Special Agent Gretchen Reid, FBI. We have geolocated your position and we’re on our way to rescue you. Stay put, stay safe, and stay quiet. If your attacker comes back be sure to hide the phone you’re using as long as possible. If he tries to move you, just dial 911 until you get a connection—”

“No! No, that’s—you don’t understand,” I tried to explain. “It was just a misunderstanding and I know I’ve been gone for probably months, but I’m fine. Really, and—”

The phone was quiet. Then the FBI agent said, “Airel, you’ve only been missing for 36 hours. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Wh—”

“We’ll be there in an hour. Maybe sooner if we can get a helo. Stay put.”

I heard some chatter in the background about mental instability.
Oh, no! Oh my gosh!
I hit the cancel button and ended the call; partly out of reflex and partly out of fear.
Oh, NO! Now what have I done?

“What’s wrong?” Michael asked, a look of concern on his face.

I tried to control my breathing. I looked back at Kim, who was passed out again. “Did she make her call yet?”

“No. What’s wrong?”

“Dude, just please keep driving. Get us out of here.”

I didn’t know which way was up. All I knew was my fear. My parents had called the cops on me!
And what was all that about 36 hours? How was that even possible?
I felt massively unsafe; even more so now that my parents were wrapped up in all my problems.
Everything I touch turns to dust,
I thought. How could I even begin to explain this to them? I felt so powerless.
There really is no going back. If I try to get to my parents I would risk their safety. I could never do that to them…

“Airel, seriously. What is going on?”

“It’s nothing,” I said, eyes locked dead ahead on the road. “It’s just that the cops are after us now.”

CHAPTER XV

 

Arabia, 1233 B.C.

“I AM NOT A child, father!” Eriel was furious. “I hate this place. I want to go to the city of Ke’elei and live my own life.”

“Daughter, please be reasonable.”

“You talk about reasonable? Talk! Mere talk! You are scared to live your life, father!” Eriel flipped her jet-black hair over her shoulder and huffed at him. “…And I do not want to miss mine because of you.”

Kreios winced, saying nothing. Eriel’s mind and heart were hard; as yet untested. She viewed the world through the eyes of a girl who had never known real danger or pain.

“Are you going to say something? Anything?”

Kreios sighed and turned a little away from her, dropping his chin. How could he tell her that she reminded him so very much of her mother? His wife…. That fire in the eyes. The beauty she had inherited from her. It hurt him deeply to think about his loss.

“I can see that your mind is made up. You condemn me already. For disobedience.”

“Eriel, no—”

“No! I will not burden you further.”

“I know you want to make your own life, but, daughter, you are not yet ready.”

“I know, father, the Brotherhood will come, they will find us. I have heard it all before, ten thousand times.”

“You must not try to find your abilities out in the open or you will—”

“I do not believe it, father! You have a naïve faith in children’s stories. Have they ever come? No. They are not real!”

Kreios could feel the anger rise within him. “Daughter, they are real. And they are dangerous. What, do you now reject
all
the teachings of El? Why do you resist the truth?”


What
truth?! Yours? You live under the cloud of superstitious fear like a scared human. You are the most powerful angel on earth; yet you cower here in this little hut in isolation! Never going out, never seeing the others, never joining the family at Ke’elei!”

Kreios thundered: “I have very good reasons for staying away from the city.”

“You’re scared of the Council.”

“I fear
NO ONE!”
The walls shook with his fury.

Eriel stepped back partially, momentarily shocked, but she quickly recovered. “And I do not fear
you.
No longer.” She turned to go, and then turned back to him. “Why do you bury your power in the ground? El has blessed you with much, but you refuse to use it.” She shook her head, stepping back. “I would rather you
were
a member of this Brotherhood of which you always speak. Perhaps then your power would not go unused. You are a waste.” She walked out the door, slamming it behind her.

Kreios spoke a curse, grabbing the large wooden table by the edge and throwing it across the room. It splintered, dashing into tiny pieces against the stone wall.

Eriel whipped the door open again, poking her head back inside. “There. See father? You do have some life in you.” She grabbed her pack from the hook by the door and left quietly, closing the door softly.

Kreios groaned in pain. He walked to the window to watch his only daughter leave him. Forever. Eriel made her way down the path leading away from their little hut and everything she had ever known. She was fearless. But she lacked wisdom. “She does not yet know the evil that lurks in the world. My God—El, I beg You—protect her.”

He knew this was ultimately his fault; it was true. He had sheltered her from everything he could as she grew up. Like any well-intentioned father, he had smothered her. Now he—now both of them—had to pay for his overprotective nature.

Tears filled his eyes. He could not bear to lose the only woman in his life yet again. This time was far different. Far more intense. Far worse. He took his own pack from the hook, filling it with rations. He would fly to the city ahead of her.

Thankful at least that she had never been activated, that she had never made contact with the Brotherhood, that she was almost fully grown into womanhood, nearly untouchable, he thought about what he would do once he reached Ke’elei. What could he do for her now? He thought about it, continuing to pack.

He decided. He would find Yamanu at the city and talk with him about her arrival. She
could…
naturally…seek out her uncle. Kreios would pray fervently for that to happen.

CHAPTER XVI

 

Springdale School, Oregon, present day

SIDEWAYS RAIN. AGENT RAWLINGS loved it. A desk was a ball and chain; a Ford Crown Vic was a license to freedom, and he loved being in the field. Rain or not, he preferred that his office have wheels.

The wipers were off; he was parked at the curb near Springdale School—what was left of it, anyway. He had memorized the interoffice memo on it; he could recite the summary: “Site of case #RG71****** blah blah blah, unknown accelerants used in suspected arson at Springdale School, Oregon 97019…” He was following a hunch, FBI protocols notwithstanding.

It wasn’t procedurally kosher to attempt to anticipate the next move of a person of interest— suspect, that is. He was supposed to tail the black SUV, make reports, coordinate with other agents, and that was all. But Agent Tom Rawlins had an itch to scratch, and her name was Gretchen Reid. He would do anything to beat her to the punch, especially on a case like this, when she was on the warpath. And, boy,could he tell. He could read her like a book. This one wasn’t saving all the good parts for the end, either. It was spilling its guts. Her next early promotion was riding all over this one, but if he could bag the perp before her, well…

Michael pulled into the parking lot of the place he had found on Google Maps using his phone. It was deserted except for a few cars scattered curbside on the street. He drove us up closer to the wreckage so we could have a look.

He shifted into park and we all got out. It was raining sideways, but only lightly; it was more of a mist. It was Springdale, Oregon. Portland wasn’t far off, and neither was the Columbia River.

The wind was ripping through the place, making the yellow police tape gyrate wildly all around the burned out buildings. There wasn’t much left but portions of some of the walls. The place was giving me the creeps.

“Wow. He really knows how to party,” Kim said. She came alongside and together we ducked under the police WARNING tape. Two black birds, ravens I guessed, sat on the jagged top of one wall. They looked down at us as if we were the most interesting prey they had ever seen.

Michael had turned and walked off the other way, saying something to us about splitting up. I watched him walk toward the ruins of a different building.

“Okay,” I said. “We’ll have a look over here.” I felt largely at his mercy, him being the professional. All I could go on were my feelings, whatever I sensed coming at me that had the feel and character of my grandfather.
What little I know of him, anyway.

I turned and walked ahead. I was struck that we had managed to evade the cops—or the FBI or who knew what other agency—all the way to Oregon. I was thankful that Michael had it all together; it was easy to follow his lead when he was sure enough for both of us. I wondered what gave him such easy confidence. Was it all that cash? The security that was lining his pockets? What would happen when that ran out? What was his plan then? Did he have a plan B? I didn’t know. I shook my head and walked on.

Most of the ruin was wide open to the hanging and smudged sky. What used to be the floor was now a quarry for brick remnants—and, given who had destroyed the place, human remnants turned to ash and blown off—and I hobbled over the roughness of it in my lightweight hikers. It was cold. Off to one side, a solitary doorway led into a dark space. I saw the look on Kim’s face as I looked back and forth between it and her. She grunted, shoving her hands into her pockets.

“Hey, at least it’ll be shelter from the wind and rain.” I pulled the hood of my sweater over my head.

“Go on with your bad self, then. I’ll be right here if you need me. This place is way creepy.”

I nodded and stepped through the rubble toward the doorway. I could make out little details, but not much.
“Be careful.” She
said. I kept picking my way over the rubble.

“So what, Kim’s intuition is right?” I asked under my breath.

Nothing.

I stopped and closed my eyes, focusing. Better not to take chances, especially given how quiet
She
had been lately. I hoped that if Kreios was still close I could reach out and find him with my mind, possibly break loose and let him know I was here—I was alive. I waited for something but nothing happened. I felt really foolish, like an amateur in a pro world. “Come on. No use being all quiet now,” I said quietly. “You’re the one that might be able to help me right here, right now. Please.”

I stood motionless. Finally
She
stirred again. I plugged my ears, drowning out the sound of the wind and rain.
“One is coming who will guide you on your path. Only be careful.”
Classic
She;
I got nothing more.

“You know what, you are impossible.” I opened my eyes and walked on, toward the black doorway. “This is stupid. What do we think we’re gonna find? A love note, telling us where he’s going next? To go kill and destroy?”

Just as I reached the frame of the door, a chill feeling crept into me. I turned back to Kim but she was in the zone, looking off to the horizon, in her own world. I shrugged the feeling off and turned back toward the doorway. I picked my way through crumbled brick and splintered ash. It was dark, and I had to pause to let my eyes adjust. I looked down and around on the floor inside the huge room. It was pitch black; I couldn’t see anything beyond the first few feet inside the room.

A flash of bright light, and I was spun around. Something—someone—grabbed and yanked me from the side and I went down hard. I rolled over quickly and managed to get to one knee. Immediately my senses kicked in full force.

Thanks for the warning.
Clearly
She
was laying down on the job.

I looked up to see a woman—a girl about my age—standing over me with a short curved sword.

I sprang to my feet. I reacted out of shock, grabbing her outstretched wrist, yanking her off balance. She pitched forward. I forced her to foul her blade against the ground, safely away from my body, and hit her hard as she came into me. I smacked her in the forehead with the heel of my hand, right between the eyes. The girl’s head snapped backward, and she twisted back and around and away.

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