Bonds That Break (The Havoc Chronicles Book 3) (27 page)

The scene suddenly shifted to a lake at the base of a mountain. A carved stone entrance led inside. The blond woman, the one eyed man, the red haired man with the hammer and the two men with long beards were all there. Only now they were standing in a circle. Each of them glowed, shining with power. And each held a small, dark stone in their hand.

There was a sixth man as well, watching, but not participating in the circle. He had a clever looking face and mischievous eyes. I recognized him as my mysterious informant. He looked extraordinarily pleased about something.

When I opened my eyes again Pravicus and Thuanar were gone. As far as I could tell, I was alone at the top of the mountain, surrounded by wreckage and destruction left behind by two Havocs.

The images from my vision haunted me. Who were these people I kept seeing? Who was the woman? This was the first time I had seen her in any of my visions. I knew there was a message in there for me, but I didn't know enough to understand it. I felt like I had enough clues, but I somehow wasn’t piecing it together.

I wasn't sure how long I had been unconscious, but I felt somewhat rested, enough that I could stand up and possibly think about 'zerking again.

Flashbacks to the battle with the Havocs kept intruding in my thoughts. Davu and Tez being bitten into pieces. Miguel smashing into the tree.

Josiah stabbing Yul in the back.

I wanted to collapse and cry for a month, but I didn’t have that luxury. I was pretty sure that Pravicus and Thuanar weren't going to come back and finish me off, but I had no guarantee that Josiah and Arthur wouldn't.

It was time to leave.

I took a few minutes to bury the dead – what was left of them, anyway. Digging the graves was the easy part, I was strong enough to 'zerk for that. Actually finding all the pieces of the Berserkers and Binders was much harder. I forced myself to think of other things while my body did the work. I tried not to look at the mangled pieces of my once friends and think about how they had died.

Once I had buried them and put up markers to identify the bodies, I dug though the wreckage of the house to find my bag. I was going to need my phone and wallet to get home. While digging I found Nicole's body, crushed and mangled from the roof collapsing. No longer perfect, Plastic Girl proved to be all too much frail flesh. She never had a chance.

I pulled her out and buried her by the others.

After that final burial, I found my bag and checked what could be salvaged. The clothes were a mess, but my wallet was intact. The screen on my phone was cracked, but it still seemed to be working. Thank goodness for small miracles.

Wallet and phone recovered, I 'zerked and ran down the mountain. The small house where Austin and the guards had stayed had been destroyed, as had the buildings the Pinzgauers were kept in.

I was in awe at the sheer scale of destruction the Havocs had caused. Everything the Berserkers and Binders had spent years building had been wiped out in less than an hour.

I checked my phone and got a signal. I wanted to call Rhys, but I knew that conversation would last all day and had to wait. Instead, I called my personal concierge and made arrangements to get picked up and taken to the airport where tickets awaited me on the first flight back to the mainland. I could have waited for a direct flight to Portland, but I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible and hope to not run into Josiah or Arthur.

I hid in the women's restroom until the last minute and then got on my flight to Los Angeles. By the time I landed in LA, the concierge had booked me on a connecting flight to Portland with only a short layover. I tried calling Rhys several times during the wait, but I kept getting his voicemail.

I was starting to get nervous.

I tried again when I got into Portland, but I still didn't get through. My imagination went crazy with worry. Had something happened to him? He couldn't be dead, I would have felt it. Unless it happened while I was unconscious? That was a horrible thought.

I breathed a small sigh of relief once I got into Portland. It felt good to be back on home turf where everything was familiar. My world may be crumbling around me, but at least I was almost home.         

My first stop was to check in with Shing and my Dad. Dad had made some improvements in the days since I had left, but was still weak. He was asleep when I got there, and even when I gave him a hug and a kiss, he didn’t wake up. Shing saw my worry and told me he still had hope for a full recovery.

To my surprise, Shing already knew about the Havoc attack. Or at least the general idea. Once Yul had taken Julie and Onaona to safety, Julie had called to tell him what had happened.

I quickly filled in the rest that Julie hadn't seen, including the final body count: Yul and Onaona. Davu and Yevette. Tez and Kamiko. Miguel and Dagmar. And Jacinda. Four Berserkers and five Binders in less than an hour. It was the greatest loss of life our side had ever seen in the known history of Berserkers and Binders.

When he heard how Josiah had stabbed Yul in the back, Shing got visibly angry – something I had never seen from him before. He slammed his fist onto the table. Fortunately he wasn't 'zerking or that could have been messy.

"I am sorry," he said. "I should not have lost my temper like that. It is difficult for me to accept what my friends have done."

That was Shing's version of losing his temper? Talk about mellow. I remembered Aata when he broke the chair when arguing with Kara and the hours he would disappear and smash things in the woods after her death.

That
was losing your temper.

However, I had seen Shing fight before. He didn't have the hot kind of rage that some of the other Berserkers had, but you wouldn’t want to mess with him. I would never mistake his lack of anger for him being a pushover.

But I still hadn't told him about the vision with my informant during the meeting. The one that said the rest of the Berserkers must die. How was I supposed to tell him that he and the rest of the Berserkers had to die so that I could save the world?

Shing must have read the distress on my face. "What is troubling you?" He waited a beat. "Aside from the obvious."

I shook my head and looked at the floor. I could feel tears welling up, and I was determined not to cry anymore. If I looked at Shing, that was guaranteed to happen.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said.

"It is about Rhys?"

I hesitated and then shook my head. In a way it was about him, but it was much larger than just him.

Shing sighed and sat down next to me on the couch. "Is it about the prophecy?"

That did it. The tears came as I was overwhelmed with the unfairness of it all. Why should all my friends have to die for me to save the world? Why couldn't it be a bunch of serial killers or maybe some past contestants from the Bachelorette that died? Why did it have to be people who were noble and good?

"I am not afraid to die," said Shing.

That wasn't where I had envisioned this conversation going.

Shing placed a hand on mine. "A death with meaning is nothing to fear. It serves a purpose and accomplishes something worthwhile. If I must die to save the world, I will gladly do so and consider it an honor."

"Aren't you scared?"

Shing didn't answer for a moment. He tilted his head back, and I could tell he was thinking. There were few people I had met who were as deliberate and thoughtful as Shing when answering a question.

"I do not fear dying well," he said. "I have lived a long time, Madison. Much longer than almost anyone else who has had the privilege to live on this earth. I have done and seen many wondrous things – enough to fill up many lifetimes. I have lived my life with as much honor as I could. Since I do not believe that this mortal death is the end of our existence, I look forward to seeing one of the few places that still holds mystery for me. So, no, I am not afraid to die."

"But what about the others?" I asked. "They don't want to die. They wanted to kill me to void the prophecy."

"We all made oaths," said Shing. "We promised to do whatever is necessary to protect the world from the Havocs. That includes our own deaths if necessary." Shing's eyes grew hard and his expression darkened. "Their actions bring shame and dishonor upon us all. We will have words when next we meet."

Seeing Shing this angry was a frightening experience. He kept it contained, but the emotions were palpable and filled the room with their energy. I would not want to be on the receiving end of
that
conversation.

Shing stood up. "But now you must hide. They will be looking for you."

"What good will that do?" I asked. "Am I going to hide forever?"

"You must fulfill the prophecy," said Shing. "It is your duty to live as much as it is the rest of ours' to die."

His words were like a slap in the face. They were true, but they hurt nonetheless. The fate of the world was dependent upon me staying alive long enough to consolidate all the powers. This wasn't about staying alive just for me. If I died, the world died with me.

I took in a deep breath.

"You must go off the grid," he said. "They will track any electronic footprint, including your finances. That means no credit cards, no concierge, nothing. The same goes for your cell phone." He pulled out a cell phone from his pocket and handed it to me. "I bought you and me prepaid ones with cash. Rhys also has bought a new phone. I have already programmed our new numbers into your phone. Only communicate via the new phones so we can avoid leaving any kind of trail the Binders can trace." He opened a closet on the far side of the room and pulled out a backpack. It was filled with cash. "I managed to fit thirty thousand dollars in here. Use this to find a place to stay and lay low. I will move your father to another facility in case they decide to use him as leverage against you."

"You've been preparing for this?" I asked.

He nodded. "Ever since Julie told me what happened at the Manor House. And I have one last thing."

He walked me out of the care facility and into the parking lot. He stopped in front of an old Honda Civic and pulled out a set of keys. "Take these."

"But why?" I asked. Earlier that summer I had used some of my Berserker money to buy a nice BMW. Dad hated it, but it was my money so he eventually gave in. I had been traveling so much that I had hardly had a chance to drive it.

"Your car has a GPS. That means it can be tracked."

"But that's illegal," I said. "They couldn't do that without some sort of police warrant."

"Or a massive amount of cash."

Point taken.

"What about you?" I asked. "What are you going to do?"

"Me?" said Shing. He smiled, but it was cold and determined. "If I must die, I choose to die with honor."

***

The Honda civic was old, but clean and seemed to be in good working condition. I was grateful for that. If my car broke down I would have no idea how to fix anything aside from calling a mechanic – and that could leave an electronic trail.

I quickly discovered that renting a hotel room and staying off the grid was pretty much impossible. Since I was clearly younger than 18, didn’t want to show an ID, and was paying with cash, I made the hotel desk clerks nervous. Surprise, surprise, I was refused a room every place I tried.

I could have attempted the homeless route or checked into a really trashy motel, but with a backpack full of cash I preferred to not have to keep one eye open at all times.

It was time to enlist the help of a friend.

My first thought was Amy. She would certainly help me any way she could. But she would also ask questions, and I didn't want to bring her into the Berserker world if I could at all avoid it. Besides, if the Berserkers were as thorough as Shing was worried about, they might have someone watching her hoping to get to me.

But there was another person who already knew about my situation and had even offered to help: Ginger Johnson. And if the Berserkers were watching my friends, Ginger was not one that would show up on
that
list.

I didn't have her phone number, but I did happen to know where she lived. Her family lived in the Heights, not that far from the house the Berserkers had stayed in. I drove to her home and was relieved to see the driveway gate open. The houses in the Heights all had electronic gates and that made it difficult to drop in unannounced.

With no small amount of nervousness, I parked in the driveway and walked to her front door. It was clear that her family had plenty of money. If the location was not enough, the large brick house with an immaculately landscaped lawn and five car garage practically screamed affluence.

Her younger brother opened the door and quickly went to get his sister. When Ginger saw me, I could tell from her expression she was surprised. It was the first time I had ever been to her house, and showing up unexpected just made it weirder.

"I need some help," I said. I noticed her brother down the hall trying to pretend he wasn't listening. "You know, like on Prom night."

Ginger followed my gaze and then nodded thoughtfully. "Come on in. We can talk in my room."

She led me up the large oak staircase and down the hall to her bedroom. It looked like something out of an interior decorating magazine. The bed spread and pillow shams perfectly complimented the paint color and the artwork on the walls seemed to have been picked specifically for matching the décor, rather than any sentimental value or meaning.

Either Ginger was an aspiring interior designer, or someone had been well-paid to decorate her room.

And clean it. The room seemed far too clean to belong to a teenager. I supposed it was possible that she was that much of a neat freak, but I highly doubted it.

Ginger sat down on the bed. "Grab a seat wherever," she said.

I pulled out the chair from her desk, noticing that the surface of the desk was completely clean and devoid of the clutter that seemed to dominate all the flat surfaces in my room.

"Wow," I said. "Your room is great. Very, uh, organized."