Touching Fire (Touch Saga) (31 page)

A female soldier stepped in after us and told me to stand at the table
and part my legs. I did as I was told and stood stock still as she patted me down. My phone, rawel and debit card were taken from me before I was stuffed into one of the chairs and left alone. At least it was semi warm.

“You okay?”

I was being held in a military camp as a possible terrorist. No.
Okay
was definitely not the word I would use.

“They aren’t going to hurt you. Just answer their questions.”

Right like lying was even an option at this point.

It was undetermined how long they made me sit there. I was practically asleep in my chair by the time the door hinges gave an unflattering squeal and three figures stomped inside.

The first was an older man with gray hair and blue eyes. His face was lined and weather worn. He wore the same camo uniform as the other soldiers, but his suit was decorated with patches. I didn’t understand the military so I didn’t even try to guess what they all stood for. He held a folder in his hand.

The other two were younger, surly
and desperate to prove themselves to the first guy. They flanked either side of the door as the man crossed over to me.

“Hello,” he said
, drawing out the seat across from me and lowering himself into it. “I am Lieutenant Wilber Montgomery. I am Commanding Officer here at this camp. What’s your name?”

Even though I had never done a single crime in my life, except maybe running away when my school caught on fire and cremating my mother in a motel room
, my mind raced with all the things he could uncover by searching my name.

“Your name?” he said again.

I moistened my lips. “Fallon Braeden.”

He set the folder down between us and opened it. “Where are you and your friend headed, Fallon?”

“Alberta,” I answered. “Red Deer.”

“To camp?”

I shrugged. “And visit family.”

Those pale eyes bore into mine. “Where is your other friend? The one that drove up with you?”

I shook my head. “There was no one else. It was just the two of us.”

“The two of you?” He folded his hands over his papers. “You and your friend. What was his name?”

“Isaiah.”

“Right.” He tilted his head. “What’s Isaiah’s last
name?”

I faltered.
I had no idea.

“Dennison,”
came Isaiah’s voice in my head.

I
recognized the name from Amalie’s diary.

“Dennison,”
I repeated to the Lieutenant.

Lieutenant Montgomery sighed and looked down at the folder. “
You realize what a difficult time this is for all of us don’t you? Our country is under siege and we are left with no choice but to fight back. I’m sure what you’re telling me is the truth and you’re completely innocent, but I have seen things, impossible things that make me question my thirty-five years on the force.” He raised his hand and motioned for one of the soldiers by the door to step forward. “Now, I need you to be perfectly honest with me.”

My phone,
rawel and debit card were removed from the soldier’s pocket and placed in a neat row next to Lieutenant Montgomery’s elbow.

“These are yours, is that correct?”

I nodded.

“Can you tell me what they are?”

I looked at the items. They looked fairly straight forward. No explanation required. Yet, I responded, “Phone, pen and debit card.”

“You carry a phone, a pen and a debit card, but no
ID. How can I trust you are who you say you are?” He raised thick eyebrows in question. “Your friend has no ID either and your car doesn’t seem to exist on any registry even though it’s a ’92. You have no cash, a duffle bag of clothes and a bunch of camping gear. What am I to believe? For all I know, you’re not even legal to drive, or that car has been stolen and stripped. You could be felons. I could of course fingerprint you, send snapshots of your face to every law enforcement agency in the country, but that could take days and I am not a patient man. I need answers now.”

I shook my head. “We’re not criminals.”

“Which is exactly what a criminal would say. Care to try again?”

I was speechless, not because the guy had some great charisma, but because I had no idea. I never got my driver’s license and any ID I might have had was left behind in my mom’s
Impala back in Manitoba. I could let him run my name. I was sure all the schools across Canada had me in their system, only that would raise more questions like why there were so many and why I never stayed long at them. Then of course they would come across Lady Clare’s and the fire. I wasn’t sure they blamed me for that, but after I didn’t show up, they either thought I was dead or on the run. However, even that wasn’t too bad. I was more worried about being asked where my mom was. I had no way of explaining that at all.

“Ms. Braeden,” he said in a tone that suggested he was beginning to lose patience. “This whole process can go one of two ways. You cooperate. We settle this problem and you and your frien
d can leave. You remain defiant. I book you and spend the next week, or however long the paperwork to identify you takes to go through, interrogating you. I assure you, option two will not be pleasant.”

I rocked my head quickly from side to side. “I’m not being defiant!”

“Then who are you, Ms. Braeden? Where are you from? What do you do? Where are your parents?”

There was a cyclone of words in my head, jumbled and incoherent. I knew that if I started talking, they would pour out like th
at across the table between us. I hated that I was so nervous. I hated that
this
of all things had the power to scare the living shit out of me. How was that even possible?

“Okay, look, I—”

My explanation was consumed by a deafening boom that shook the ground and sent the bells in my ears ringing.

The
Lieutenant was instantly on his feet and turning to the door. He barked something to the guards before exiting the shelter with one soldier right on his heels. The other remained behind, gun in hand, wide eyes focused on me like he expected me to do something stupid.

“Isaiah?
Was that you?”

A moment passed, then,
“No. Stay put.”

Another
resounding bang detonated somewhere close by. The stench of smoke and gas impregnated the air.

“What’s going on?” I asked the guard.

“Quiet!” he barked back, tightening his hold on the weapon.

I dropped my gaze to the table, to the open folder and the chicken scribble on the pages. They looked like military forms, probably forms to detain us. I couldn’t be sure. I wasn’t paying attention. Instead, my gaze was fixed on the
rawel and I wondered how I could get my hands on it.

“Fallon, don’t!”
But I had to try.

Pushing out of my chair, I made as though I were moving to the window
. The gun was instantly swung up and aimed straight for my face.

“Sit down!” the soldier
bellowed.

I halted. “I just want to see—”

“Sit!”

I stumbled backward and
deliberately bumped into the table. I staggered. My fingers fumbled around the rawel and I nearly dropped it. I breathed a sigh of relief when I had it fisted tight in my sweaty grasp. I hurried back into my seat, hoping he wouldn’t notice the missing item.

Outside, people screamed. A car horn blared. Something popped. It was followed by several more pops. Someone shouted orders.
I cursed inwardly. I hated not knowing.

Behind my back, the plastic tie burned into the skin of my wrists as I tried to figure out how to work the device in my hand. If I flipped the switch, it would extend, but then what? The soldier would see it and take it. It seemed like such a useless thing, and to think I risked my life for it. I should have
gone for the cell phone. I could have called Ashton and he could have come and got us out of this mess.

Damn it!

The sharp end jabbed me. I jumped at the unexpected poke. Something warm trickled down the side of my hand, slickening my hold on the rawel. I was in the process of wondering just how badly I’d cut myself when the thing in my hand grew warmer. Then it was vibrating soundlessly.

Tightening my grip, I twisted it around my fingers until the pointy end touched the plastic bracelet cutting off blood flow to my hands. My initial thought was to use it to saw at the bindings. But the moment the tip
met plastic, the restraints snapped off like I’d taken a pair of scissors to them. They dropped harmlessly down the back of my chair and my hands were free.

My moment of awed giddiness was short lived when the commotion outside escalated. Dogs were barking madly.
Explosion after explosion rocked the ground. Car alarms screamed over the din, over the screams of men and women not government trained.

“Where are you?”
I asked Isaiah in my head.

“Don’t worry about me. Get out.”

I rolled my eyes. He really needed to stop thinking I’d just leave him behind.

“Can you please just see what’s happening out there?” I begged, trying to look scared and helpless, which wasn’t entirely too hard to do. “I’m worried about my friend.
Just … please? You don’t even have to leave, just look out the window. Please?”

It didn’t take much convincing. He must have been as curious as I was, because he
twisted his torso and drew back the blinds.

I leapt into action.

It was as though my mind and body were parts of two different entities. Each had different ideas of what needed to be done. But even with my mind’s refusal to act so recklessly, my body was already moving into combat position.

I was out of my seat in a single powerful movement
that would have taken me by surprise had my arm not taken that moment to fling back with the rawel still clasped firmly between my fingers. The device pulsed like a living heart in my hand and I felt its power surge through me like a shot of adrenaline. The feeling of being absolutely invincible slammed like a fist in my gut. It exploded through my veins. I would have cried out if I wasn’t moving again, moving with a speed that seemed to slow the rest of the world. I was already braced by the time the soldier realized I was no longer sitting, and worse, no longer restrained. I watched his eyes widen, his jaw slacken, and his body swing towards me. But he wasn’t quick enough.

My arm came sweeping down
. Ten feet of metal shot through the distance dividing us. It lashed across in a silver blur and looped around his neck twice. His weapon dropped with a noisy clatter to the ground as he threw up both hands to claw at the chain cutting into his windpipe. His eyes bulged as the skin of his face became crimson. His massive body slumped forward on his knees, eyes still watching me, disbelief alight in them. I yanked back on the chain and he dropped forward, motionless.

The chain instantly released. It slithered toward me like a vacuum cord getting sucked into the machine. A moment later, it was
back to its regular size and rested harmlessly in the palm of my hand.

“Whoa…”

Pushing aside my awe, I ran to the fallen soldier and searched for a pulse. I didn’t exhale until I felt the steady patter. Getting quickly to my feet, I stuffed the rawel into my back pocket. It was followed by the phone and debit card before I darted for the door.

The holding place I was being kept in was tucked at the very back of the station. It was far enough away from the road that all I could make out
were the clouds of black smoke rising from the ground. But in no way did that save me from hearing the gunfire, the horrific screams and the sound of something dangerous pushing back. My heart raced in my throat as I searched for some sign of where they might be keeping Isaiah. But all the shelters looked the same and I never saw which way they took him when we got separated.

“Where are you?”

“Go!”
came his almost immediate response.

“This would go a whole lot faster if you just
tell me!” I snarled into the air.

A second later, I heard the distinct sound of automatic gunfire from a shelter nearby. I was running towards it even before I could rationalize my actions, or the fact that I was unarmed. I burst through the door and stopped.

Isaiah looked up at me, his expression very unamused. He stood over a fallen soldier, hands still tied at his back.

“I told you to leave,” he muttered.

“And I told you to shut up.” I marched across the distance and unhooked the dagger strapped to the soldier’s belt. I broke the plastic ties restraining his hand and was about to return the knife, but decided against it. “We need to go.”

Isaiah didn’t argue. I wasn’t expecting he would.

“Any idea what’s going on?”

I shook my head as we left the shelter.
“Whatever it is, it’s happening by the road.”