Michael (The Curse) (The Airel Saga, Book 3: Part 5-6) (19 page)

“I will not let them get to her. Not again.”

She nodded in understanding.

“So,” he said, “you’re here on orders? Why don’t you know all this stuff? You’re an angel; haven’t you been fighting the Brotherhood forever?”

She sighed. “I know enough.” Ellie’s face became blank, lost in thought. “I’ve got to tell you … I think the best, most effective thing we can do is take the fight to them.”

“You know I’m on the same page. We keep running; we’ll be on the run forever.”

“Yeah, but it’s more than that. We’re in their territory. Everywhere under the sun, it’s theirs. At least until the end of all things. Until then, we have to pick our battles carefully.”

He knew all that. He had heard the shouts of rage in his mind, the radical violence of the blindly self-centered whining for revolution, for glory, for the subjugation of all things right and good, and he knew what it was all about. It was utter emptiness. “I’m listening,” he said.

“I don’t quite know how to say this.”

He looked at her carefully. “Go ahead.”

She appeared to have a sudden change of mind. “Okay. I’m here for Airel.”

He thought back to the battle, how Ellie had pulled back from Airel, even how he had done the same, though he still wasn’t sure why. “You’re here for her? What, to … take her?” He allowed his face to show total confusion.
What’s she not saying?

“No. I mean I’m not just here to protect her or to keep her alive. Guardian angel stuff.”

“Okay, so, what then?”

“I’m to guide her in the path she must take. And on some level, she should know that already. But she’s still pretty hostile to me.”

Michael’s expression became enlightened. “So that’s what that was all about back there.”

“I was throwing her out of the nest. She dislikes me for that.”

“I might be able to persuade her for you.” He paused for a moment, the warm trace of a smile on his lips as he thought of her. “So,” the smile faded, “you knew about the Sword, then?”

“No. I was simply trusting El’s word to me. I knew nothing about what might happen. I was just as surprised as … as, well …as the baddies were.”

He laughed.

“And, oh. Don’t think it was me who called them on. It wasn’t me. I’m so not the dirty girl.”

“I never said that—”

“I’ll just tell you this: we’ve gotta be careful. Very careful.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that the most dangerous enemy is the one you don’t see coming. The one that’s on the inside.” She stood, moved closer, and crouched before him, grasping his shoulders. “Michael, be on your guard. Always vigilant.”

“Ellie, just say what you mean.”

She looked at him, sizing him up. “I mean … everyone’s got an axe to grind, mate. Not everyone will be straightforward with you at all times.”

“And?”

“Look, I know something’s cockeyed here and I’ve got half an idea. That just means I’d better not go sharing it and polluting the pool. But I will say that you, Mr. Alexander, need to be very careful. With everyone.”

A torrent of evil thoughts ran through Michael’s head, but he would not give voice to them. Not until he had more information. And if there was anything from which the ancient part of his mind benefitted, it was perspective.

CHAPTER XII

ELLIE’S PHONE SOUNDED OFF:
In one mile, turn right on Route 19. Your destination will be on your right.
She looked at the GPS display and said, “We’d better get ready. This train won’t stop for us.”

Michael looked at her and the phone quizzically.

“All the phones I use go through testing before I trust them,” she said. “They’re re-routed so many times they’re untraceable.”

“I’ve been trying to stay off mine. There’s probably nothing more dangerous to a wanted man than a smartphone.”

“True. Good thing, then, cuz I’m not a man.” She smiled at him.

He would have considered it flirtatious if he didn’t know better. “You get Kim. I’ll wake Airel.”

They parted ways. Michael scrambled down from the tops of the crates to where he had left Airel, assuming Ellie would be careful waking Kim. She might prove to be like a cornered cat, a real handful. He hoped her attitude would improve with some time spent in a hot shower and a real bed. He knew that’s what he needed most, too, and he felt bad for her. For all of them, really.

He squeezed through the narrow space between the wall of the boxcar and the last row of crates, expecting to find Airel.

But she wasn’t there.
Where did she go?

Then from the opposite end of the boxcar, he heard a sound that made his heart sink. A whimper. Some kind of exclamation. A thud or a slam.

As fast as he could, he made his way through the maze of crates toward the scuffle, fearing the worst. He could hear words, though they were hard to make out.

Give it? Was that it? Or was it “give it up?”
He couldn’t tell. He did hear someone say, “No,” but he wasn’t sure who.
Great, I get to referee three cranky ladies. As if I didn’t have my own problems.
He felt the anger rising and he didn’t stop it.

He closed the distance, balling up his fists as he walked, turning his shoulders to the side as he slid through a narrow gap. In the back of his mind, it occurred to him that there might be a reason for him to feel so angry suddenly—a reason beyond his fatigue—but it didn’t surface. He wanted to taste the rage and let it out anyway; he had had it with this whole operation, these little hens pecking away at petty nonsense.

As he rounded the final corner, he beheld them—three girls fighting over a bag. Kim’s duffel. They were all pulling a different strap in a different direction. He roared at them, “Hey!” slamming his fist into a crate. “Cut it out!”

All three jumped in surprise, looking momentarily afraid. It stopped the bickering, at least, and it tasted good to him.

“This is our stop,” he tried to explain, his eyes dark. “And if we miss it, we’ll be walking for a long, long time.” He began to get the shakes as adrenaline flooded his veins. “Anyone up for that?”

No response.

“I didn’t think so. Kim,” he addressed her directly, “get your bag and let’s get going already.”

They stood like deer in the headlights for a moment.

“Now,” he shouted at them, surprising even himself at the measure of his anger.

They all moved quickly, following him toward the side of the boxcar and the door.

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know right now,” he tried to explain to them as he opened the sliding door, letting in the cool, fresh air of a late-afternoon day. It swirled around them, refreshing everything. He looked at the three girls as they assembled in a line near the edge of the opening. Airel’s arms were crossed at her chest and she glared at him. “We don’t get a second chance for this,” he said, mostly to her, trying to get her to understand how serious things were.

He turned to Ellie, but she had already stuck her blue-crowned head out the opening and started to spy the way ahead, looking for a soft landing area. “Grass ahead,” she said to them.

It was clear that this would be it.

Michael looked to Kim. She stood with her chin drooping a little, hands in the pocket of her dirty red hoodie. She had her bag, at least. She looked really quite unwell—pale and disheveled.
You need a shower,
he thought, a little repulsed.
And a good long sleep.
She looked out the door at the rapidly passing scene.

Michael shook his head. He was going to have a look in that bag, one way or another.
The group can’t continue on like this, and my curiosity must be satisfied. Especially if I have any kind of authority or position of leadership, or even responsibility, for this cackling walking train wreck.
He shook his head and blinked.
Whoa. Where did that come from?

But he knew. The fear that he might be right caused him to embrace his doubts about it. Doubt was a safe haven at times.

Ellie, head still poking out the door, reached back behind her. “Here it is.” She hooked arms with Airel, who was very surprised, and jumped out, taking them both for a tumble.

Michael was more than a little shocked, but there was no time to think about it. He gave Kim a violent shove in the back, sending her out of the car with a screaming yelp; the bag strapped across her shoulder. She landed awkwardly. He hoped she didn’t break anything.

Nothing left for him, he too jumped. The landing hurt. Even though he tried to roll with it, take some of the edge off, he realized that their little Kreios-hunting party might not have come out of this little misadventure unscathed. Jumping from a moving train was a really stupid thing to do, and nothing like the movies.

He finally came to a skidding, rolling stop in the high grass along the embankment of the railroad. He sat up. “Ow,” he groaned, holding his forearms, which had borne the brunt of the impact. “That’s worse than football,” he decided.

He saw Airel and Ellie. They had already popped up, and Airel was giving her some words. “Uh-oh.” He chuckled. He had to admire her. Mostly he was just glad to see she was okay. “Where’s Kim?” he wondered aloud. He saw a little flash of red bobbing in the grass. “There she is.”

“Kim,” he called out. He got to his feet, his body complaining. “Are you alive?” As he stood, he could see that she was on her hands and knees in the high grass.

She didn’t respond.

“Lose something?” He walked back up the line toward her as the train passed them by, on its way somewhere without them.

As he walked farther up the way, he could tell Ellie and Airel might possibly have more than words for each other, and pretty quick. He just shook his head. What was he supposed to do, anyway? If they wanted to fight it out—with swords, even—in broad daylight, so be it. He was tired. It might be a blessing to blow their cover, end it all right here.
No way,
he thought.
What am I thinking?
“Worst idea ever,” he said.

“No kidding, dude,” Kim said as she rose up into a crouch. “Thanks for the warning.” She cussed at him, adding all kinds of choice words her mother would be shocked to hear.

Or maybe not so shocked,
he thought.

Kim stood there trying to dust herself off, pulling her ridden-up hoodie back down, adjusting the strap of her bag as she stood, stuffing her hands back in the big pocket of the sweater.

He couldn’t help but laugh at her. “Looks like you’re no worse for the wear,” he said. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

She stepped back ever so slightly. “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

He laughed, a little too lightly. He sounded like a politician to himself, paper thin. “Nothing, Kim. Accept my apologies?” He extended a hand to her.

She slapped it away in contempt. “Shut your face, jerk. I’m not talking to you.”

He rolled his eyes at her, letting her see the gesture. “Okay, whatever. You’re ridiculous. I’m going to go pull these other two off each other. You coming?”

She looked him in the eyes. “Not with you.”

He smirked and shook his head. “Well, then, follow along behind.” He made his fingers walk through the air at her.

She spit at him as he left.

“Hey,” Michael called to Ellie and Airel, “is the catfight over yet, or are there still tickets available?”

***

IF I WAS EVER ready to kill, this was the time. I actually scared myself a little because I felt perilously close to how I had felt in Kreios’ little training hut when he was explaining how to use my emotions.

“Now, listen—” Ellie started to say.

I was about to overflow with hatred and I had to get ahold of myself. The first thing I had to do was get out of Ellie’s face, walk away.

I turned, breathing deep and slow, and put my hands on my knees like an outfielder. “Breathe,” I commanded myself, trying to avoid the idea nestled in the back of my mind that said Ellie was going to assault me without warning again.

“You’re quits, then,” she chided from behind me.

I ignored her. “Breathe,” I said again, and took a deep one.
Or someone will die,
I added. I could hear Michael cracking off smart somewhere behind me. I breathed again.
Okay, something is seriously not right here. One minute we’re at each other’s throats, the next we’re all buddy-buddy?

I felt in over my head again. Unlike most people, I knew precisely what that was. I knew precisely what it felt like to die. To drown in death itself, to fly free. Or was that really what it was to be free?
Because when I died, something wasn’t quite right then, either.
Something like unfinished business. I knew what that made me: a ghost. At least it did if I failed whatever test still lay before me.

This was like the Whack-A-Mole game. Smack one test down and up pops another one somewhere else—it was maddening. It was like trying to hide smoke. It just seeped through any tiny crack, leaving me smelling like a stale campfire.

I kept thinking of what
She
had told me right before I first met Ellie. Something about “One to guide me.”
Do I ever need that.
I was overwhelmed. Life? Death? I didn’t know much about whatever happened to us when we moved past what we could see and feel here. But there was a point, I instinctively knew, where truth became absolute. And there were no more arguments.

“No more arguments,” I said, thinking,
boy, wouldn’t that be nice.

“All right, then,” I heard Ellie say, her voice much softer toward me than I thought I deserved.

I stood erect. “Deal,” I said, without turning. I looked off to the horizon, the line of mountains lumping itself along from one side to the other in my field of view, making me think of the scissors-like shoulder blades of a dog as it walked.

“Hey,” Michael said from behind me, “you guys okay?”

Michael.
On my mind a lot, that’s what he was. Not that I could help it much; when it was love.
Love, betrayal—
I didn’t even want to think of those words. But they were there, just under the oil slick, just under the surface, and they wouldn’t go away. I could wrap my mind around why he had done what he had done, rationally, but my heart still hurt about it.
What if things had happened differently? What if his father had never stepped in? Would I have been his next kill?