Threads That Bind (Havoc Chronicles Series Book 1) (17 page)

“So I’ve heard.”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Dad said. “This isn’t the first time a Binder and Berserker have had a child. There have been several others, but none ever inherited powers before. Gaining powers isn’t supposed to be genetic.”

 I felt a little... something in the back of my mind as we spoke. A nagging feeling, vaguely familiar, but still too weak for me to really process. I half-listened as Dad discussed the impossibility of me inheriting powers and that everyone was certain that Berserker powers were not genetically passed on.

The feeling grew stronger until I finally recognized it. “Bringers,” I said.

Dad immediately stopped talking. “What did you say?”

Panic welled up within me and I felt my senses sharpen to pre-zerk state. “Bringers,” I said. “Several of them and they’re coming this way.”

“Are you sure?” Dad’s voice was thick with tension.

I nodded. “At least four or five... I think. Maybe more. I’m not entirely sure.”

 “Come on.” Dad walked out of his office, and straight to the utility closet off of the laundry room. He opened the door, fiddled with something in the dimness and a door-sized hole opened in the wall. I blinked, taken aback.

“You have a secret passage in our house?” I asked. I was completely flabbergasted. This kind of thing didn’t happen in my boring house. “What, does it lead to the bat-cave, or something?”

“Hardly,” Dad said, and he disappeared through the hole. “Come on.”

The door opened to a steep staircase leading beneath the foundation of the house. The temperature dropped noticeably as we descended. 

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I found myself in a large room, twenty feet across with a high ceiling. It reminded me of a martial arts dojo. A large square of mats dominated the center of the room, with weights and other exercise equipment neatly arrayed along the perimeter. Paintings and photographs of people I didn’t know covered the walls. Several large swords – and other weapons I didn’t recognize – were mounted on the wall.

Dad crossed the room to a small glass case sitting on a stand. He fumbled with a latch and pulled out a circular disk, about the size of a fist. He held it in his hand, a mixture of fear and joy written across his face.

I had seen one of those disks before – when Rhys had fought the Bringers.

With a flick of his wrist the sword unrolled with a series of clicks until extended to its full four-foot length. Dad swung it around mes in some fancy maneuvers, showing me that he clearly knew how to use it.

“Stay here,” he said. “This is set up to be a safe room. I’ll lock you in while I take care of the Bringers.”

“Are you serious?” I asked. “I’m the Berserker, remember? You should be staying here while
I
take care of them.”

Dad got that stubborn look on his face - his eyes narrowing and his jaw sticking out. “You’re too young to be fighting Bringers,” he said. “I’ve fought them before, and I know how to kill them.”

When Dad got like this he was impossible. He sometimes had a hard time remembering that I wasn’t a three-year-old kid playing with matches. For better or worse, I was a Berserker, and I was just starting to understand how important that was.

“You’re not leaving me here, and you’re not fighting the Bringers alone,” I said. “You’re not a Berserker anymore.” I turned around and walked to the bottom of the staircase before looking back. I could feel the Bringers nearby. We only had a few minutes before they arrived. “Are you coming?”

Without waiting for his answer, I started up the stairs. My pace quickly accelerated from a walk to a run. My blood pumped in anticipation and I felt myself on the edge of a true berserking. I struggled to hold it off until I’d left the house – so I wouldn’t accidentally destroy it on my way out. 

A warm breeze blew against my face as I strode onto the lawn. It was not typical Washington weather this late in the fall, and it was significantly warmer than it had been when I had come home.

Dad joined me on the lawn, his face a mask of determined concentration. He held the sword at the ready while scanning the trees around us.

I pointed to the trees to the north of the house. “There.”

As if waiting for me to announce them, a dozen Bringers burst into the open, their skeletal frames and oversized heads just as disturbing as they had been in the dead woods.

Everything about the Bringers came into sharp focus as I fully ‘zerked. Even from across the yard I could see their sharp teeth dripping saliva, hear the clicking of their bones as they ran, and smell the rotten stink of death about them. Power flowed through me, sharp and exhilarating. I felt – alive. Had I ever noticed that before?

I only had time to register Dad’s stunned expression, as he saw me glowing for the first time, before the Bringers attacked. I met the first one head on, intending to snap its neck, but it twisted at the last moment accidentally impaling itself on my outstretched arm. Black goo splattered everywhere – great.

I wanted to wipe myself off, but there wasn’t time. I would just have to trust my Berserker glow to fry the goop off.

Glancing over at Dad, I saw him thrust his sword through a Bringer’s mouth and out the back of its skull. Without hesitating he pulled the blade free and moved on to another, slicing at its neck, but narrowly missing.

The next Bringer tried to tackle my legs. I leaped up and landed with a crack on its back before flipping into the air to land between two Bringers and smash their heads together.

“Look out! They’re trying to flank you,” Dad yelled.

I twisted around and threw a Bringer into the group, knocking several over, but a Bringer I hadn’t noticed latched on to me from behind, wrapping its arms and legs around my waist, pinning my arms to my sides. Hot, rotten breath flooded over me as the Bringer extended its jaws to try and swallow me. I dropped low and threw out my arms, breaking its grip. I reached behind and grabbed the Bringer, throwing it against the ground so hard it turned to goo.

“Be careful, Madison,” Dad yelled from across the yard. “Don’t let them get behind you like that.”

“Can we critique my nasty-monster fighting skills later?” I said. “I’m kind of busy.”

Three more Bringers rushed towards. I dropped into a crouch to meet them. 

“Don’t stay stationary,” Dad cautioned, fending off two Bringers. “Circle around the outside and attack from behind.”

Was he really going to keep this up for the entire fight? The play-by-play critique was going to get old in a hurry.

“Enough with the in-game commentary,” I said. “I need to concentrate.”

Dad started to say something, but one of the Bringers had tackled him to the ground and was now opening its jaws wide in an apparent attempt to swallow him whole.      

 “Dad!”

There were only four Bringers left – three attacking me and the one that now had Dad halfway down its throat. I grabbed a Bringer and swung it around, throwing it into the other two before rushing towards Dad. Before I’d taken more than three steps, a Bringer dived for my ankle. I fell to the ground in a heap.

I kicked the Bringer hard on the top of the head, and its skull broke with a sickening crunch. I rolled backwards and stood up. By this time all that I could see of Dad were his feet. The growing mass inside the Bringer jerked and moved, but Dad wasn’t strong enough to break out. I had to end this before the Bringer could finish swallowing Dad and run.

I picked up Dad’s bone sword and faced the remaining two Bringers. I had no idea how to use the sword, but I hoped it would be more effective than pounding them with my bare hands. I rushed forward swinging the sword wildly. When I had watched Rhys use his sword it was a deadly dance of grace and precision. My approach was more like the Hokey Pokey done by preschoolers.

Fortunately, my wild and chaotic attack seemed to work. I connected with a Bringer’s rib cage, nearly slicing it in half. It toppled and fell dead to the ground.

The second Bringer grabbed my arm, trying to force the sword out of my hand. I twisted around, pulling the Bringer off balance and yanking my arm free. I rammed the sword through the back of its head and out through the front. It collapsed and immediately began turning into goo.

By this time Dad had been completely swallowed by the remaining Bringer. The Bringer, however, was struggling with Dad’s bulk. It had gotten to its feet, but Dad’s thrashing seemed to knock it off balance.

Coming up from behind, I reached over the Bringer’s head and grabbed its upper jaw, pulling it towards me. Unbelievably, the mouth simply widened the harder I pulled. There was too much give for me to stop it this way. Switching tactics, I twisted the top jaw sideways, with much better results. Bones cracked and the Bringer squirmed. With a final exertion, I was able to rip the top of the Bringers head off and it flopped to the ground, thrashing about.

As I looked at the thrashing Bringer, trying to decide how to best get Dad out, a hand thrust out of the Bringer’s neck like some undead creature rising from the grave.

Remembering what I had seen Rhys and Eric do, I dropped to my knees and thrust a hand into the Bringer’s ribcage. With a series of snaps, I broke the ribs apart, exposing Dad. He spluttered and coughed, but once I had made an opening, he was able to pull himself the rest of the way out.

I was so relieved that I instinctively reached out to hug him, but stopped when I realized I was still glowing and would most likely crush him with an overly enthusiastic hug. Plus, he was covered from head to toe in what looked an awful lot like snot.

The sound of a revving car engine caught my attention. Rhys’ and Eric’s Range Rover hurtled up the driveway, tires squealing. Before it had even stopped, Rhys, Aata, and Shing had jumped out, eyes searching for enemies to fight. Only seconds behind them, Eric, Kara and Mallika climbed out.

 “Well, it looks like we missed all the fun,” said Eric. He saw Dad trying to wipe the Bringer snot off himself and his face split into a mischievous grin. “Or maybe we’re just in time for it.”

I’d never seen Dad embarrassed before, but today seemed to be a day of firsts. He stopped wiping and pulled himself up to his full height, clearly trying to regain his dignity.

For a moment, there was an uncomfortable silence. But it didn’t last long.

“Scottie!” Aata ran across the yard and, ignoring the slime covering my dad, picked him up in a big bear hug. “Good to see you, mate!” He set Dad down and looked at him quizzically. “But I must say, you’ve gotten quite a bit older since the last time I saw you.”

Dad gave a rueful smile. “Never one to mince words, were you, Aata?”

Shing came forward next. He couldn’t have been more different from Aata. He stood before Dad and gave a formal bow. “It is good to see you alive and well, my friend.”

“It is good to see you as well, Shing,” Dad said, bowing in reply. “It pleases me that we meet again.”

Rhys approached somewhat cautiously. He almost looked embarrassed as he stood before my dad.

“Hello, Scottie,” he said.

“Hello, Rhys.” The two of them stared at each other, their faces completely stripped of emotion. There was clearly some history here that I was unaware of. Their expressions were so frozen it was like watching a piece of stone facing a cement wall.

There’s no telling how long they might have stayed like that if Eric hadn’t stepped between them. He faced Dad and threw his arms out wide.

“I know we’ve already had our little reunion, but... come here, Scottie!” He gave Dad a big bear hug, like Aata had. “Did you miss me?”

Dad gave Eric a cool look, but this time I could see a hint of a smile. “Do you want the truth?”

Eric shrugged. “Not really. Truth is highly overrated. I’ve had enough truth to last me three lifetimes. These days, I prefer a good socially-acceptable lie to the less-pleasant alternatives.” He glanced around at the others. “Don’t you?”