Gabriel's Sacrifice (The Scrapman Trilogy Book 2) (20 page)

“I just want to help you.”

“Look around, Ethan.”

He did as she requested, taking a moment to behold their surroundings. Amanda was a packrat, her salvaged goods encompassing them. They were buried in cases of water, food and supplies she’d gathered all by herself. There was enough to host a grand Thanksgiving feast, and then some.

“As you can see, I don’t need your help,” she finished.

“I’m still useful,” he offered. “You’re the one who believes everything that lady at Dingy Pete’s says.” Ethan thrust a thumb at his chest. “She said I’m going to change the future.”

Amanda laughed. “I bet she did.”

“Swear to God. I know you got a soft spot for that lady.”

“It’s because she saved my life, Ethan.”

“Saved your life?” His smile faded. “How?”

She extended her arm to the room. “She told me to come here, told me which rooms to go through, and which room to stay in. She said I’d be protected here. And the day after I packed up all my shit and left, that was the day my old place burned to the ground.”

“Jesus.”

“Believe me, I wasn’t the kind of person who believed in psychics before … but there was just something so convincing about her … and I wouldn’t be here now, if not for Claire. Maybe you saw an angel, Ethan, but she’s the one who talks to them.” Her eyes widened as she grabbed his hand. “If anyone knows what happened to you, it’s her.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely. It’s still early. We should go now.”

“Now? When was the last time you even saw her?”

“It was a few months back, maybe.”

“You really think she’s still there? I’m not up for dying in order to find out why I’m still alive.”

“Claire is all dug in there; and the local boys don’t go anywhere close to that place–too close to the edge of the city. We won’t even cross their paths on the way there and back.” She motioned toward the window, the lines of water zig-zagging their way across it. “Plus the weather is perfect cover.”

Ethan was hardly interested in the excursion Amanda was currently proposing. The thought of leaving her dwelling wasn’t tempting in the least. In fact, if they never ventured out into the world again, he’d be fine with it.

Still, accented vividly beneath strands of crimson was the persistence of her green eyes; and Ethan knew instantly that he’d follow her to the ends of the earth, if only she asked.

So, with a hesitant nod, and against his gut and better judgment, he agreed.

Her smile was like a stove light, the warmth of which heating him from the inside.

“We’ll go see your Oracle,” he smirked. “Then you’ll see … she says I’m going to change the future.”

Jackson navigated the darkness as he approached the old employee lounge, dragging John beside him. As the room served a most violent purpose in the past, they’d reversed the locks on the lounge a year prior, nicknaming it the pit. Ironic, then, that the very man who sanctioned the interrogation chamber would be the one Jackson got the most pleasure out of throwing in there. The tables, couch and vending machines had all been removed, save for a single, solitary chair sitting vacant at the center of the room.

It had been months since last they used it, a place for pressing people for various information; but Jackson mourned the lost opportunity to have Rick within. With all he had to answer for, they could have bloodied him for days–unfortunate that his secrets were allowed to follow him to the grave.

His execution was a bit premature, but that was Boss’ call.

Still, maybe John knew more than he was letting on.

His body hit the floor as Jackson shoved him inside. With hands cuffed behind his back, he had some difficulty rolling over as John brought himself to rest within the shadows of the far wall.

“Sure, it’s dark and quiet,” Jackson stated. “But it’s a shit-load better than bein’ out there. You can thank the boss for that.”

John lifted himself to a sitting position, his face lost to blackness. “And how long will Maddox keep me in here?”

“He left you to me, John.” Jackson chuckled, cracking his thick knuckles. “Let’s just say you should make yourself comfortable.”

“Of course he did,” the man scoffed. “I shoulda known he’d leave me with his brainless pet.”

Jackson smiled, entering the lounge, truly elated by the gift Boss had given him; and as the following minutes filled themselves with pools of blood upon the lounge room floor, it would be days before John could lash his busted tongue again; and even as the swelling of his eyes and mouth morphed him nearly unrecognizable, Jackson went on to beat him until his face resembled unleavened dough beneath his fist.

With hands still fastened at the small of his back, John had fallen unconscious, unable to witness the devilish grin that continued to peel Jackson’s lips apart.

“Sleep tight, Princess,” he wished the blood-soaked man. “It’d be a pity if you died so soon.”

G
abriel nudged the drone’s decapitated carcass with his large, mechanical foot, seemingly content with Mohammad’s work. “Looks like you’re getting a handle on your abilities.”

Mohammad nodded.

“I am impressed.” He reached down to pluck the hammer’s head from the floor, wrapping it in his long, pale fingers. “And the way you thwarted the assassination last night, truly brilliant work.”

“Thank you.”

The head again met the ground as Gabriel released it, the thing’s mandibles springing open before settling in a pool of dark liquid. “Do not believe, however, that this marks the end of your training.”

Mohammad had hoped it would, but knew better than to wish for such things. “The thought never entered my mind,” he lied.

“Very good.”

There was something Mohammad had been meaning to ask him, but always lost his nerve once in the presence of Gabriel’s immensity.

Today would be different.

Upon slaying the drone, and after his exceptional performance regarding the assassination, Mohammad found his spine solid enough to finally address his inquiry. “Gabriel ...” the Traveler’s name hung in the stale factory air for just a moment, “I had an unusual experience that night ... just before I woke up on the street.”

Gabriel’s black eyes narrowed. “The entire experience, I would assume, would be quite unusual.”

“Yes, of course, but there was something else as well. I didn’t think much of it at first, until I was there when the boy woke up … and I think it happened to him, too.”

“And what was this
experience
?”

“I saw my brother, Shorab,” he answered. “We were on a beach in Fiji, but he was just a boy. And I was-”

“I call it an echo.” Gabriel interrupted. “It is a side effect of the transfer–a memory from the past impending on the present, something I’ve tried in vain to correct.”

Mohammad reflected briefly upon the Traveler’s answer, soon deciding he was not satisfied with it. “It felt like something else to me,” he stated.

Gabriel’s head tilted. “Did it?”

“Like going to the other side, then being pulled back.”

“The other side?”

“Yes.”

A smile began to spread along Gabriel’s thin lips as he triggered his wrist device, causing multiple solar systems to leap from it. They shrank instantly to specks within their galaxy’s outer edge until multiple purple swirls came to accompany them.

“We are organic matter, Mohammad, a simple byproduct of a most chaotic Universe; and we grow and thrive wherever it permits us.” He waved his large hand through the air, spinning them like a mobile, before choosing a single solar system to enlarge.

With a glowing, yellow sun at its center, it consisted of twelve revolving planets. Gabriel chose the fifth one out, the one that struck Mohammad as looking remarkably like Earth. Through its massive canyons and mountain peaks, the image took them across a great ocean to a structure of a most intelligent design.

“Religion is a useful crutch at the dawn of any civilization,” Gabriel said, “but is meant to be discarded upon further advancement.”

Many dark, red-clothed beings were huddled outside the angular structure, humanoid in their appearance, busily etching away at the stone walls.

“So I take it you don’t believe in a higher power?”

“A higher power?”

Mohammad nodded.

“Yes, I believe entirely in a higher power, Mohammad.”

The vision of humanoids shrank from view, soon replaced by several structures of Earth’s. The first was the pyramids of Egypt, eclipsing an orange sun with the center’s peak. The second was of Stonehenge, those familiar slabs of rectangular rock. And the third was of an ancient ruin he didn’t recognize; but even within the aftermath of time, Mohammad could still witness the precision of its former edges, the perfection of its once-design.

“But I’ve watched your race a long time, Mohammad, watched your ancestors document our visits on cave walls, clay tablets, and stone monuments.”

A slew of ancient artwork suddenly swept over them–from the abstract flash of a Native American marking, to a marble sculpture of Perseus, entangling his fingers into the snakes adorning Medusa’s head.

“A thousand years later, those meetings had become the myths and legends of a new era of man.” He looked back to Mohammad, lowering himself as his voice grew more firm. “So once you understand that every civilization, in every language known to man, has looked up at the stars to ask of their gods, that’s when it becomes quite clear…” He brought himself closer still, his pale, black-eyed face but inches away. “That
we,
Mohammad, have always been the higher power.”

The Traveler rose again, the strength of his claims enough to make Mohammad wish he hadn’t mentioned it, enough even to send the most religious door-knocker screaming.

“Well, aren’t you the atheist alien,” he muttered.

“It is of no matter, Mohammad.” Gabriel sighed, his mouth becoming a mere slit beneath the holes of his nose. “The same will be true of this. For these, now, are the days of new legend. And in a thousand years, when I return, it will be your name I’ll find in the stories of your offspring.”

Dingy Pete’s Café

The morning’s rain collided with the sign’s bold, red letters as the two of them rounded the square building, not a single person visible through any of the diner’s windows.

“Looks pretty deserted in there,” Ethan noticed.

“She’s here,” Amanda spoke with confidence. “She said I’d always be able to find her here.”

Ethan wasn’t feeling quite as certain, however. He’d spent a bit more time in this world than she had, gotten to see it a little too up close and personal on a few unlucky occasions. His anxiety ran like a tether from his insides back to the haven of her apartment. Tugging heavily at him, it grew more taught with every step taken. This was a bad idea, he was sure of it, knew it to be true before they’d even stepped out her window.

God only knows what would happen to Amanda, were they discovered–a pretty girl like her. And God only knows what would happen to him, the only one who could stand in their way.

But it was then that he discovered his own chivalry, a most peculiar epiphany considering how he once perceived himself. No matter how taught the tether became, he could control whether it affected him or not, whether he’d allow it to resonate through his trembling hands.

Despite his nerves, Ethan remained like stone, as secure in body as he was in mind.

He could protect her.

And that somehow granted him an element of peace, finding the knight tucked deep within.

The stale fragrance of the place remained the same as Ethan took in a lungful of dry and dusty air. The bell above them chimed merrily, instantly alerting the caretaker of their arrival as both he and Amanda readied their weapons for the unexpected.

But the soothing softness of a woman’s voice came to them before anything remotely harmful, her smile thereafter prompting them to relax all but entirely.

“Amanda!” She came to wrap her arms around the young redhead. “My girl, how are you?”

Despite the fact that she was probably in her mid-forties, her hair remained dark as a gypsy’s, her face heart-shaped and trusting.

“I’ve been fine, Claire, thanks to you.”

She released the hug, but kept her hands on Amanda’s shoulders. “My advice paid off then, I take it?”

“Yes, Ma’am, down to the room I’m living in.”

“Perfect.” She nodded. “That place is one of the safest in the whole city, eluding the Devil’s eye like a blind-spot in a mirror.”

“I keep the dead bolt locked all the time, and I hear people rummaging through the building sometimes, but no one’s ever even tried my door.”

“And they never will.” Claire smiled. “You’ll be safe there for years to come, until the coming of the creatures in time. But that is when all will come out from hiding.”

“The creatures?” Ethan asked.

“Don’t worry yourself over that just yet, Son,” she assured him. “You’ll need to survive the next decade first.”

Both Ethan and Amanda shared a vacant expression with one another.

“Claire,” Amanda broke the brief silence, “Ethan is actually the reason why we’re here.” She placed a hand on him. “He’s had a bit of an … experience.”

Claire looked at him. “What did you say his name was?”

“Ethan,” she repeated. “You met him once before, remember?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Uh-huh. I see now.”

“I woke up a few days ago, Claire,” he held out his right hand, “and my scar was gone … and I wasn’t sick anymore. It felt like I was on the verge of death just before … and then nothing.”

She took his hand, looking it over. “I see.”

“Do you know what happened to him?” Amanda asked.

“Yes,” Claire answered. “Looks like they’ve gone a little sloppy with this one, haven’t they?”

“Sloppy?”

“Amanda, would you mind if I had a moment to speak with … Ethan here, alone?”

“Oh.” Amanda straightened herself, looking slightly insulted. “Sure, I guess.” She turned and walked away, taking a seat in the adjacent dining room area.

“Follow me, Son,” Claire instructed, leading Ethan through a curtain and to the other side of the diner, where Amanda would be unable to eavesdrop. She sat him down at a small table there at the back of the room and faced him, concern present in her expression.