Raven's Peak (31 page)

“What do we do now?”

“Now,” she said. “We go talk to the Council.”

The trip back to Raven’s Peak didn’t take very long. The walk back to their borrowed car was the worst of it, and Haatim wondered if his legs might give out during the hike. He actually fell asleep on the drive back to the city, and Abigail had to wake him up when they were there.

By the time they got back there were dozens of rescue helicopters and hundreds of people filling the streets. Most of them looked like they were from out of town and part of various relief efforts teams after a natural disaster.

“What’s going on?”

“This is what the Council does,” Abigail explained. “Containment, isolation, and eventually story-building and propaganda. They’ll spend millions of dollars on false articles and police reports to back up their story of what happened.”

“That’s insane.”

They reached a blockade just inside of town, and two men carrying Assault Rifles came to their windows. Abigail rolled down her window as they approached. “State your name and business.”

“Abigail Dressler,” she said. “My business is my own.”

The man recognized her name. “We’ve been looking for you. You’ll need to report to the tents.”

“Is Frieda here?”

“She is,” the man replied, gesturing his gun toward the center of town where a hastily constructed tent stood. “And I’d suggest you head there right now. She isn’t very happy with you.”

“She never is,” Abigail said, rolling up her window and driving in toward the tents.

Haatim saw dozens of people inside and heard a general din of conversation. Some people were treating injuries and others directing the unloading and distribution of supplies. Abigail parked the car nearby and rubbed her temples. Haatim could tell that she was exhausted, and she still looked a little scared; though, of what, he couldn’t guess.

“Is my father going to be here?” Haatim asked.

“It is possible, but not likely,” Abigail replied. “Not for something like this. The Council has strict rules about the gathering of its members. They never put more than a few in one location.”

Haatim climbed out of the car. “Which one is Frieda?”

Abigail smiled wryly at him. “Trust me, you’ll know when you see her.”

They walked into the tent. Haatim saw a well-dressed woman with a white skirt and blouse barking orders. She had high heels and a mole on her cheek, and despite it all she looked incredibly pristine amid the chaos.

“Ah,” he said. “I see.”

As soon as Frieda noticed Abigail she came striding over. “Where have you been?”

“Following another lead,” Abigail said. “Took a little longer than I’d hoped. What’s the story you’re planning to roll out?”

“Militants,” Frieda replied.

“Militants?”

“It was short notice,” Frieda said. “There is a radicalized group of militants in the area, and we are utilizing them. As far as anyone will know, there was a chemical released into the air, and one of the side-effects that will be leaked is hallucinations. Four men are being charged with terrorist activities.”

“It’s going to generate a lot of press.”

“Yes, it will,” Frieda said. “We’re intending to oversaturate the market.”

Which meant they were planning on leaking so many false reports and accusations that there would be no way to verify any real stories. Everyone from aliens to government plots would be offered in explanation, so most people would dismiss any outrageous reports outright.

“Wow…” Haatim said, shaking his head.

Frieda wheeled on him, as if noticing him for the first time. She pointed a finger at him. “And
you.
You were ordered to leave the city.”

“I couldn’t just go
and let these people die.”

“When I tell you to
leave
a place
,
you leave it, got it?”

He started to object again, but her look silenced him. “Got it,” Haatim answered. Frieda didn’t seem like the kind of person he should argue with.

“What do we do now?” Abigail asked.

“You will both have to stand before the Council and explain everything that happened. Haatim’s father is going to try and raise a few claims against you, Abigail.”

“OK. He wants to reprimand me?”

“No,” Frieda said, frowning. “It’s serious, Abigail. He’s planning to get you discharged from the Order.”

Abigail had a stunned expression on her face, mixed with fear. “What?”

“He’s already gaining allies and rallying support against you. He only needs to get half of them, and he’s almost got that number already.”

“He can’t do that.”

“Do what?” Haatim asked, but both women ignored him.

“He can,” Frieda said. “And he is.”

“That won’t happen, though, right? He won’t be able to rule against me? That hasn’t happened in hundreds of years.”

“After what you did here today,” Frieda said. “It’s doubtful. You saved a lot of lives. But, with Aram it is impossible to say. He has a lot of influence, and most members of the Council support him.”

“You can’t let that happen,” Abigail said.

“I’ll do everything in my power,” Frieda said. “I promise.”

“What are you talking about?” Haatim asked again.

“We need to go,” Frieda said. “There is a helicopter waiting and we need to get moving.”

“Can’t we get cleaned up first?” Haatim asked.

“There isn’t time. It’s going to be wild, these next few days. I hope you’re both ready.”

Abigail had a sad and resigned look on her face. “Me, too.”

Frieda smiled sadly at her. “Chin up. You’ll get through this.”

“Through what?” Haatim asked. Frieda ignored them and ushered them outside to where a helicopter was idling. There were helmets waiting, and after only a moment they were airborne, heading off toward the horizon.

Haatim thought it was one of the most beautiful sights he’d ever seen, watching the mountains stretch beneath him. He watched for a moment, just relaxing, before turning his attention back to Abigail and Frieda.

“So my father is going to try and get Abigail kicked out of the Order?” Haatim asked as they flew.

Both women were silent for a long minute. “Not exactly,” Abigail answered finally.

“Then what?”

Frieda was the one who responded. “Hunters serve for life. There is no way to leave the Order while someone is still alive.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your father is going to try and prove Abigail can’t be trusted. If he succeeds, she will be executed.”

End of Book 1

Lincoln Cole

Lincoln Cole is a Columbus-based author who enjoys traveling and has visited many different parts of the world, including Australia and Cambodia, but always returns home to his pugamonster, Luther, and wife. His love for writing was kindled at an early age through the works of Isaac Asimov and Stephen King, and he enjoys telling stories to anyone who will listen.

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