Finding Sage (The Rogue Book 1) (7 page)

              “Lilly, it’s me.  You can trust me.”

              He made an attempt to smile at her, which created a bending at the corner of his mouth that was obviously artificial, but it was enough to convince Lilly that he was trustworthy.  She slowly met his hand with hers, and hugged him tightly, tears still flowing down her cheeks unbidden.

              “We need to get out of here,” he said.

              Silas looked to his right and saw more soldiers running down the hill to the people that had been gathered around the campsite.  Among them was Eli.  He had come here to find Eli and there he was, but he couldn’t go after him in the midst of the battle, or he would endanger both himself and Lilly.  His mind reached out and touched Eli’s.  He caught one word, a name: Sage.  The memories of his capture came flooding back and he remembered what his interrogators were after: the location of Sage.  If he could find Sage, perhaps he could find an end.  A plan of action.  A way of escape. 

He turned to Lilly. 

              “Can you trust me?”

              She nodded her head, tears still running down her cheeks.

              “Hold onto me.”

              Silas scooped her up in his left arm, picked up the sword with his right hand and ran into the battle.  He dodged those fighting for their lives, both soldier and rogue, and made his way to Eli.  Eli was fighting with his sword and quickly defeated three attackers with subsequent blows to the neck and back.  As Silas reached Eli, Eli turned around to face him, but just as their faces meet, a soldier ran behind Eli and slit his throat with a dagger.

As Eli fell, Alice saw him fall at the feet of an unfamiliar man.  She had taken the advice of Eli and ran as soon as she saw the attackers.  She couldn’t bear to run away completely, though, and stayed at a distance so that she could stay with Eli when he made it out.  Despite Rodge’s constant and obnoxious protests, she had watched.  She watched as Eli collapsed at the feet of a man who was not a soldier.  She saw him clearly and would not forget, his image printed into her mind. As Eli fell at his feet, her hopes and dreams of finding Sage and a safe haven along with him fell with Eli.  How could this man do this? 

He was a ruthless killer. 

A merciless murderer. 

What goes around comes around. 

Silas could not believe what was happening.  He only had two people he could trust.  One was clinging to his arm and the other had blood running from his throat.  For this reason, he was quite surprised Eli’s mind somehow touched his, and he received a flood of information.  Memories, facts, dates, people, places, love, hate, rage, fear; the flood of all the processes of the mind nearly knocked Silas out cold.  He dropped to his knees as he struggled to keep his breath.  He was even more surprised when Eli spoke to him.

“Silas.”

His voice was not faint, throaty, or impaired in any way.  It was calm, calculated.  Silas looked at him and saw blood where his neck had been sliced, but there was no wound.  Only skin and a very small amount of blood.

“Wha—?”

“There’s no time,” Eli interjected.   “The long arm of the law.  It’s everywhere, man.  They got us, and they got us good.  But if I stay here, they’ll think I’m whacked and they’ll leave me alone, see?  Go to London.  I’ll meet ya there.  Roger?”

With a nod, he scooped Lilly up again and ran as fast as he could, away from Eli, away from the camp, away from the forest as fast as his legs could carry him.  While running, he cried.  He cried heavily. 

When they finally stopped at the outskirts of some unknown city, Lilly was not the only one sobbing.  Silas was sobbing too. 

12.

              It was early in the afternoon and the sun was shining with a brilliant radiance.  On a small backstreet with numerous identical suburban houses stood a stranger.  He looked on the familiar street with melancholy.  A bittersweet taste lingered in his memory, reminding him of his mistakes.  His tan skin reflected the sunlight and he squinted his dark eyes as he looked into the sun.  This was the place he used to call home.

              He sighed with regret, and then looked behind him with paranoia, afraid that he would be spotted so close to his home.  He looked ahead again and saw two familiar people come out of the house.  He quickly hid behind the tree as he watched two vehicles back out of the driveway and leave.  He considered moving his plan into action, but decided against it.  He would bide his time, and give his family as much time at home as they could possibly have. 

              Inside one of the houses on this ordinary street sat two brothers.  They were in the living room floor playing cards.  The older ran his hand through his dark hair as he contemplated his next move.  A pile of poker chips lay next to the cards.  The younger brother quickly grew impatient.

              “Come on, Salah, it’s not like we’re playing for real money or anything.”

              “That’s what you think,” Salah responded with a mischievous smirk.

              “Yeah, yeah, yeah, quit stalling already.”

              Salah took one last look at his hand.  His brother Ishmael had gone all in as soon as the hand started.  His face was beaming with confidence, but Salah knew better.  He could feel his younger brother’s fear and anticipation growing the longer he sat contemplating his decision.  He was bluffing. 

              “I fold.”

              They showed their cards to one another, and sure enough, Ishmael went all in with a high seven.  He looked at Salah’s cards and raised his eyebrow.

              “You folded with a full house?”

              Salah shrugged.

              “Salah, I’ve asked you a hundred times, will you
please
stop letting me win?”

              “I didn’t.”

              “You’re a really bad liar, you know that?”

              Salah sighed in resignation.  His brother knew him too well.

              “Alright, then let’s play something other than poker.  I don’t like having an unfair advantage.”

              Ishmael started gathering up the chips and cards and putting them back in their poker set.  Salah, sensing something unusual, walked to the door cautiously.  As he peeked around the corner of the house, his jaw dropped from sheer shock.

              “Ishmael?” Salah called.

“Yeah?”

“When you’re done with that, can you feed the dogs?  I think Dad forgot to do it this morning when he left.”

              “Yeah, sure.”

              He closed the glass screen door quietly and turned to his older brother, flushed with shock and anger. 

              “What are you doing here?”

              “Is he ok?” he asked.

              “He’s fine.  What are you doing here?” Salah repeated.

              Tariq scowled.  Salah was not easily distracted.

              “We need to leave.  Now.”

              “What?  You can’t just show up after six years and demand that we leave.  It doesn’t work like that.”

              “Salah, listen to me.  You are in danger.  You have to get out of here.  Now.”

              Salah studied his older brother’s face intently.  Even though he hadn’t seen his brother in several years, he could tell that something was seriously wrong.  He normally wasn’t this grim; even when he was, he covered for it with sarcasm and insults.  None of that was present now.  Salah began to fear the worst.  Had they found him?  Surely not.  He had been extremely careful to keep a low profile.  There was no way they could have found him.  It had to be something else.  It had to be.

              “What’s going on?”

              “They want Dad’s record collection.  What do ya think?  They found out, Salah.  The agents know you’re a rogue and they’re coming for you.”

              Salah swallowed slowly, petrified with fear.  His hands started to shake.  He had tried to prepare himself for this day as much as he could, but he knew that he could never be truly prepared.  No one was ever prepared to be afraid for their life only because they exist. 

              “When?”

              “I don’t know.  It could be tomorrow.  It could be in five minutes.  We can’t take a chance on it.  We need to leave now.”

              “But Tariq—how did you get here?”

              “Teleportation.  What do ya think?  I broke out and now I’m here.  Now come on, let’s get Ishmael and get out of here while we’re still alive!”

              Salah nodded and walked back into the house with Tariq right behind him.

              “Hey Salah, the dogs already have food.  Are you s—”

              Ishmael stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes connected with Tariq.  He looked different with long hair, torn jeans, and a more muscular physique, but it was his brother all the same.  He stared at him in disbelief.

              “Tariq?”

              “Ishmael, we have to go,” Tariq responded. 

              Salah cringed.  He knew that Ishmael wasn’t going to take Tariq’s return kindly, but it might have softened the blow if Tariq had let him take the lead.

              “Really,” Ishmael responded cynically.  “So I don’t see or hear from you in over five years and you come back and think you can be Dad?”

              “Ishmael, we don’t have time for this,” Tariq said impatiently.  “We’re all in danger and we need to leave as soon as possible.”

              Ishmael’s face twisted in anger and he opened his mouth to lash out, but Salah cut him off.

              “Ishmael, do as he says.  We don’t have much time.”

              Ishmael looked at Salah, then at Tariq, and back to Salah again, and his expression turned from anger to despondency as he grasped what must have happened.

              “How long?”

              “We don’t know,” Salah said.  “Pack everything you can in five minutes and meet us at the back door.”

              Ishmael knew he should be running; knew he ought to be moving as quickly as he could. Somehow, he couldn’t.  As he pulled his duffle bag out of his closet and put clothes, a toothbrush, and soap into it, he could barely move his hands.  He wasn’t crying or even quivering.  He only felt a lack of will to move.  Like being stuck in a dream wherein paralysis grips you, and you are helpless to do anything but watch and endure.

              After forcing himself to pack, he went back downstairs and met his two elder brothers.  As they were walking out the back door, Ishmael realized something they had forgotten.

              “We have to warn Mom and Dad!” he exclaimed.

              Tariq looked at Ishmael with sorrowful eyes.

              “We can’t.”

              “Excuse me?!” Ishmael demanded.

              “Where do you think they’re going to go when they find out that Salah isn’t here?  They’re going to go straight for Dad’s office.  We’d be handing him to them on a silver platter.”

              “We can’t just leave them to the agents!”

              “Dad’s a smart guy,” Tariq insisted.  “He’ll figure out what’s going on and make sure he gets off of their radar.  He’s been expecting this for a long time.”

              “But—”

              “Ishmael, enough!” Tariq said.  “It’s not happening.”

              Ishmael closed his mouth and remained quiet as they walked into the woods behind the rows of white houses.  He felt helpless and defeated.  As they left their hometown of Toronto behind, one thought coursed through Ishmael’s mind continually:
Why did he have to come back?

                            13.

The sound of metal scraping against metal echoed through the woods.  Alice clutched her knives tightly and sharpened them slowly and deliberately.  She ignored the deafening sound of the crickets around her and continued sharpening her knives, the sparks intermittently lighting up her face.  She was expressionless as she did this, intent on her task.  The purpose was to distract her mind. 

It wasn’t working.

              She had seen Eli’s face when she drained the plant of its life.  The power of death in her very hands was not something she reveled in.  Yet despite her humiliation and shame, he was impressed.  He was going to tell her how to find Sage.  How to find solace.  How to find peace.  Then he died.  With him gone, she was back to square one.  Her options were quickly running out.  How long could she keep this up?  No matter how much she tried to forget it, to distract herself, to think about something else, all she could see was Eli dropping to his death while the blonde-haired assassin stood over him, holding a sword that was dripping with the blood of his victims.  As he looked over Eli, the killer was not only content with his death, but she saw him smiling.  He was
happy
about it. 

              Alice threw her knives in anger and drew her gun.  She nearly fired it when she remembered that she was following the assassin. The last thing she needed was to have her presence revealed.  She pulled the clip out of her gun, counted the bullets, pushed it back in and cocked it, reveling in the power she could feel in the threatening click of the gun.  She aimed the gun at a nearby tree.  Positive visualization.  Visualize him dead.  He was going to pay for what he did.

              “What are you doing?”

              Alice lowered the gun.

              “I thought you were asleep.”

              “Alice, you know me.  I’m not exactly used to this life yet.  Do you really think I could sleep after a day like today?”

              Alice said nothing in response.

              “Alice . . . what are you thinking?”

              “Rodge—”

              “Because if you’re thinking about going after him . . .”

              “Stay out of this, Rodge.  What’s in my head is none of your business.”

              “None of my business?”

              Rodge did something he never had before.  He stepped closer to her, looked her straight in the eyes, and spoke to her in the most serious tone he could.

              “I go where you go.  If you decide to go on a selfish vendetta of revenge, I get dragged into it too.  And when you end up dead because you bit off more than you could chew, my dead and bleeding body will be right next to yours.  It is entirely my business.”

              “Don’t turn that against me!  You’re here because you wanted protection in return for a favor; nobody is forcing you to stay!  If you want out, then LEAVE!!!”

              “Yeah, funny idea, you protecting me.  Were it not for me, you wouldn’t have made it one week.  Those loan sharks would have killed you in an instant if I hadn’t gotten the money to pay them back.  I was also the one who found out about Sage in the first place and if you will kindly recall, I also advised you against following that stupid kid that almost led us to our death!”

              “If I’m a burden, then why are you still here?”

              “Because I don’t want you to die, you stupid mule!”

              Seconds passed in silence.  Alice had nothing to say in response.  She had never really had anyone in her life that genuinely cared for her.  No one in her life cared for her on any level unless it somehow suited them.  When she didn’t fit that mold anymore, she was cast away.  Her father’s abuse.  Her mother’s angry tirades. 

This, on the other hand, was beyond shocking.  It changed everything.  Her partnership with Rodge had been helpful, maybe even enjoyable; but she never thought he actually cared about her.  Did she care about him?

              Without receiving a response, Rodge sat down on a log and sighed in exasperation.  He put his face in his hands, unsure of where this shouting match and hasty exclamation had left them.  Alice also sat down on the log, next to Rodge.  She said nothing.  She didn’t look at him and he didn’t look at her.  But a tear slowly fell down her cheek.  At this point, she finally had to accept the truth: she didn’t have a clue what she was doing. 

              Silas slept on the ground in the forest, looking up at the sky.  The trees covered much of the view of the stars, but the sky was still beautiful.  It was a very clear night, revealing a complex web of stars, inhabiting a sky with differing shades of darkness.  Despite the beauty, he still couldn’t get the image out of his head of Eli falling at his feet.  Eli should have died right in front of him and there was nothing he could have done about it.  He was helpless; entirely and utterly helpless. 

Lilly was lying next to him, cuddling for warmth as they had no bedding.  As she cuddled, a thought haunted him: if he couldn’t have saved Eli, how was he supposed to protect this girl whom he had accepted as his daughter? 

He shuddered, and tried to release his mind from the horror of the unknown future.

              As he forced his mind to wander, it brushed upon something.  Two people, not a long ways off; less than one-hundred yards away.  He focused his attention on these two people.  He gained a visual image: a woman and a man.  The man had long brown hair and glasses, and the woman had jet-black hair and was silently crying.  Silas thought the woman looked strangely familiar.  Then it hit him.  She was there when the Rogue Division attacked.  She was the one who killed the plant.  Silas’ worst fears were confirmed.  They were being followed.

The next day, they rose early and started walking.  Despite the tragic nature of the previous day, they tried to make the best of everything.  Silas tried to make conversation with his new companion, which at first was anything but natural.

              “So . . . um . . . what do you like?”

              She looked at him like he had just spoken in German. 

              “What do I like?”

              “Yeah.”

              “Um . . . I don’t know.”

              “You don’t know what you like?”

              “Well . . . no, not really.”

              Painfully awkward moments passed.

              “Why did you name me Lilly?”

              There was momentary silence.

              “Because you needed a name and lilies were the first thing I saw.”

              “Oh.”

              At this point, Silas realized that even though they have been together for a couple of weeks now, they had barely talked at all.  He thought he was comfortable with her. Now he was quickly realizing that he was anything but. 

However, their conversation eventually grew more natural and more direct.  As a matter of fact, they eventually began talking about the biggest thing they have in common: their gifts.

              “How do you do your thing?”

              “My ability?”

              “Yes.”

              “It’s complicated, but basically I can hear people’s thoughts and I can go into their heads and put stuff in or take stuff out.”

              “Oh come on, there’s more to it than that.”

              He looked down at Lilly and she was looking at him skeptically.  He wasn’t going to get away with treating her like a child.   

              “Ok, but first tell me what you can do.”

              Lilly paused for a moment before answering.

              “I don’t forget.”

              “You don’t forget?”

              “No.  I don’t forget anything.  I can remember everything that’s ever happened to me.”

              “So you remember the day you were born?”

              “Yep.”

              “Wow.”

              Silas’ expression was not an indication of the fact that he thought it was cool.  Much the opposite, he realized that she could never forget the horrors that had happened to her, and might still happen to her throughout her life.  She would always remember what she went through, in much more vivid detail, no doubt, than he would. 

              “Let’s not talk about me anymore, ok?” Lilly said sweetly and softly.

              “Ok, what do you want to talk about?”

              “Well, I’d like to hear about you.”

              “Ok . . . what do you want to know?”

              “What were your parents like?”

              Silas paused for a few moments before answering.  He had never talked to anyone about his family before, but this time he figured it was appropriate.

              “My mother left us when I was a little kid—”

              “Why?”

              “She didn’t much care for people like us,” he said with a dark scowl on his face.  He was looking down at the ground, his memory ringing as clearly as it possibly could.  “My dad was like me.  After she left and he was left to raise me himself, he began teaching me to care for myself.  He was . . . strong.  Quiet and strong to most people, but I saw a different side to him.  He always kept me close and trained me rigorously.  At times I hated him for it, but his being so tough on me is why I’m still alive.”  At the thought of this, he smiled a little bit.  He missed his dad, maybe now more than ever.

              “What happened to him?”

              “I don’t know.  We got separated when I was twelve and I’ve never been able to find him since.  By this point I assume he’s dead, because if he was alive he would’ve been able to find me by now.”

              Lilly didn’t know what to say next, so she said nothing.  They soon came to the entrance of a large city.  They had been walking for a long time on a gravel road.  At some point during their conversation, when Silas’ attention was elsewhere, the road had become a paved road.  Houses started popping up on either side of them, dispersed by a few hundred yards.  The houses at first looked like old abandoned shacks.  As they walked farther they started to appear more fit for living: vinyl siding, precisely trimmed lawns, brick landscaping, and asphalt driveways typified all of the homes.  Aside from slight color variations here and there, such as a different shade of yellow, off-white, or grey, all of the houses looked exactly the same. 

The similarities chilled Silas to the bone.  It was as if they’d all followed the exact same blueprint, each being filled by the exact same kinds of people.  He then remarked to himself that this was probably the truth, which did nothing but exacerbate his uneasiness.

As they continued walking, the environment became less rural and more urban.  Houses were situated closer and closer together until they were no longer houses, but large stone structures taking up entire blocks.  The smoke of industrial factories drifted into the streets, as well as from beneath the streets through the vents. Dozens of people, both young and old, roamed the streets in torn and ragged clothes.  Some stood by the streets with signs asking for food, clothing, or a job.  Others were lurking close to the buildings and street corners, probably looking for food.  A few sat on the streets smoking or drinking.  At the sight of this, Silas pulled Lilly a little closer.

He took a good, long look.  He had spent so much time in metropolitan Russia, he had nearly forgotten what the slums of both minor and major cities looked like all throughout the world, especially in North America.  It was tragically ironic, considering the prosperity that had been repeatedly promised for years under the new glorious socialism of “United Prosperity.” 

He stopped and saw a black and white poster on the side of a stone building to his left.  The edges were frayed and there were small rips in it here and there, giving it an archaic appearance, as if it had been exposed to the elements for some time.  There were sixteen photos: four across and four down.  None of them were mug shots.  They were surveillance photos, some of them very blurry.  At the bottom of the poster it read:
Known Rogues, Considered Armed & Very Dangerous. If Found, Contact Authorities Immediately.

              “What is it?” Lilly asked.

              “A wanted poster,” replied Silas.

Silas was surprised that his own face wasn’t on there.  He suspected that it was only because of the age of the poster that it wasn’t. 

              “Come on, let’s keep moving.”

Minds continually buzzed around, against, and through Silas’ mind.  Sometimes he caught a few words, sometimes memories, and sometimes sensations. The overload of information made his vision slightly fuzzy for a few seconds and he had to put his hand against the wall for support.

              “Are you okay?”

              “Yeah, yeah . . . I’m fine.”

              “Let’s keep moving,” Lilly said.

They walked through the crowds of the city’s poor, occasionally bumping off of the rude and careless.  Silas grasped Lilly’s hand tightly as they trudged through the crowd.  People were walking down the sidewalks, streets and alleys.  They continued walking for a few blocks and noticed lines forming at certain building corners.