Bonds That Break (The Havoc Chronicles Book 3) (30 page)

"No!" she shouted, but it was too late.

I was free.

I would die with honor.

I sat bolt upright in my bed and screamed. I was drenched with sweat, and the sheets were all tangled up. I could still feel the pain of the sword piercing me.

What had happened? Why had I dreamed I was Shing? Was that real? Were those his memories?

His memories.

The realization of what had happened hit me and was so overwhelming that my emotions shut down as shock set in and my mind went numb.

Shing was dead.

Chapter 18

Shanghaied

Before I could recover, more memories assaulted me – Julie's this time. I fell off the bed and thrashed on the floor.

– Julie as a little girl playing with her sister's toys.

– Accidentally casting a Haze on a friend before she knew she was a Binder.

– Meeting Shing and Yul for the first time and learning about the Berserker's world.

Dead.

Now there could be no doubt about it. Shing and Julie had died. Not only that, but if the dream I had was a true vision, then Shing had sacrificed himself so that I could be safe.

He was the second person to do so. How many more would have to die for me?

But what was that dream I had of Shing? Never in my life had I dreamed that I was someone else, or had such a vivid experience being that person. It wasn't like the visions of the one-eyed man where I was watching as an outsider. During this dream I had thought I
was
Shing.

Could those have all really been his memories? But why were they so much more vivid and intense than any of the others? Even Julie's memories that I experienced right afterwards were the normal flashes of pictures, not an immersive vision.

I had seen my Dad as a young – well, young by Berserker standards – man. Shing hadn't really liked him that much. Had my dad really saved him from Navitan? That would explain Shing's devotion to him and why he had spent so much time and energy caring for him.

But why? Why Shing's memories?

It was the first time I had ever been deeply asleep when a Berserker had died. Could that have made a difference? I had heard once that dreams were really just flashes of disconnected images and pictures that our mind made connections between. Maybe when I was asleep my mind could better process the memories I was getting?

And since the dream woke me up, I was awake for Julie's and so they were normal. Well, normal-ish. Nothing about this was really normal, but it made about as much sense as any other explanation I could think of.

I looked at the clock. It was after one o'clock in the morning. I was tempted to go find Shing for confirmation, but that was probably just what Nakai and Sunee wanted me to do.

No, if he were really dead, there was nothing I could do now.

I pulled out my phone to call Rhys, but it went straight to voicemail. What was going on with him? I left a frantic message telling him my fears that Shing was dead.

I lay in the bed, and stared at the ceiling. Sleep was gone and far away. All that was left was an excess of guilt and self-loathing. More people dying for me.

I don’t know how long I lay there before I finally fell asleep, but when my phone rang, I had definitely been asleep.

It was Ginger. I looked over at the clock. It now read seven thirty.

"Hello?"

"Madison?" said Ginger. She sounded panicked. "Have you been watching the news?"

"No, I just woke up. It was kind of a rough night." I didn't elaborate.

"Turn on the news, now."

"Ok." I pressed the button on the remote and flipped to one of the local stations. "What's going..."

But before I could finish my sentence, I saw what Ginger wanted me to see.

The headline across the top of the screen read: Local landmark vandalized in potential kidnapping plot.

A petite blonde reporter holding an umbrella and wearing a water proof jacket stood in the rain reporting the story.

"...between three and four A.M. this morning a beloved Portland icon was vandalized. A security guard for the Portland Building, where the statue resides, discovered the damage early this morning. The Portlandia statue, which has sat above the entrance to the building since 1985 was beheaded in what many are calling a gruesome and barbaric display of contempt for the symbol of our beloved city. Authorities have been interviewing witnesses all morning, but do not have any leads at this time. Anyone who has information about the people responsible is urged to call the police at the hotline number listed below." An eight hundred number scrolled across the bottom of the screen.

Portlandia was a massive copper statue of a woman dressed in a toga, holding a trident in one hand, and reaching down with the other to greet visitors. Who would want to vandalize that? It couldn't have been a Havoc. They would have simply demolished the entire building without really trying. Cutting of the head was too precise and planned.

"That's awful," I said to Ginger. "But why did you call me about it?"

"The sign," said Ginger. "Keep watching. They haven't gotten to it yet."

I continued watching for a few minutes until they got to the part Ginger was talking about.

"But perhaps most disturbing was the note found hung from the statue's trident. It reads 'I have Amy. Don't make me go berserk to find you.' At this time the identity of Amy is a mystery, but the police are searching through all new and active missing person cases."

I closed my eyes. That was why Ginger had called – they had Amy. Josiah had met Amy and knew she was my best friend. He had even flirted with her a bit. She would have completely trusted him, knowing that we were friends.

Anger and rage threatened to overwhelm me. How could they bring a completely innocent person into this? Amy had nothing to do with this. They were just using her.

To lure me out.

"What are you going to do?" asked Ginger.

I sighed. "I don't have much choice. They have Amy. I have to find her."

"How?"

"My old cell phone. I have Josiah's number in it. I'm betting there’s a message from him. If not, I'll call him, but I bet the statue was just to get my attention so I would turn on the phone."

"But isn't that exactly what Shing told you not to do?"

"Yes, but he's dead now."

"What? How do you know?"

"Long story. When a Berserker dies and I absorb their powers, I also get flashes of memory. I got Shing's and Julie's last night."

"I'm sorry," said Ginger, and the strange thing was she did sound genuinely sorry. "What can I do to help?"

"Nothing right now," I said. "You've already done more than I had any right to ask for."

"But I want to help. It’s my world that's at stake, too. I have a vested interest in you not screwing this up."

I smiled wryly. That’s Ginger. "And you have helped,” I said. “A lot."

"Ok, I get it. You don't need my help for this. But let me ask you one question first – are you sure you should go after Amy?"

What kind of question was that? Who knew what they would do to Amy if I didn’t respond? I couldn’t just leave her. "What else should I do?" I asked.

"Don't get me wrong," Ginger said. "I want Amy rescued, but given the stakes involved in this, is one person's life worth the risk you're going to take? If you fail, we all die."

Of course it was worth the risk.

Wasn't it?

But what about what Shing had said about dying honorably? He seemed to think that the fate of the world was worth more than his own life.

But that was different. Shing had lived for hundreds of years. He had fully experienced life. Amy wasn't even seventeen.

And here was the real difference – Shing had to die for me to get his powers. Without his death, the world was doomed. Amy had no part in this. Her death would not advance the cause and save the world. There was no reason she had to die.

And that made all the difference in the world to me.

***

I drove out to Hillsboro before turning on my phone. If they were going to track me, I wanted to be far away from where I was staying.

Sure enough, there was a text on my phone from Josiah. "I have Amy," it said. "If you want her back, meet me here." And he listed an address in downtown Portland. As best as I could figure it was somewhere in Chinatown.

I wrote down the address and turned off the phone. They may have been able to get a fix on my location, but I sure didn't want them tracking my movements.

The rain continued to pour down, and the winds got stronger. I listened to the radio and heard that several major roads were flooding and a landslide had cut off part of Highway 26 going out to the coast. Once I got Amy back, I was going to have to leave town so Rhys could come free Osadyn before the seal broke. Based on the weather it shouldn't take much of his blood to break the seal.

I drove into downtown Portland, taking the back roads where I could since traffic on the highways had slowed down to a crawl. You would think in a city with as much rain as Portland gets that people would be used to driving in it.

Not so much.

The address took me to an empty storefront in Chinatown. I drove past once to be sure it was the right place and then parked several blocks away. I had my varé in my pocket, but that was my only weapon.

It would have to do.

I peered inside the shop, but it appeared to be empty. I tried the door and found it was locked. I could easily break it down, but it seemed odd that they would leave the door locked if this is where they wanted me to go in.

I looked around a bit more and a flash of red on the ground caught my eye. A large metal access door was set into the sidewalk. The kind of door you walk over all the time and completely ignore.

Pounded into the metal, so hard that it was as if it had been welded, was a Berserker honor coin – the gold seal with a red hand print in the center.

This was the place.

I pulled on a ring to open the doors and they swung open to reveal a set of wooden stairs leading underground. I blinked in surprise. Was this what was under all these kinds of in-ground metal doors?

I descended the stairs until I reached the bottom. A long tunnel with a dirt floor and stone walls stretched out in front of me and into the darkness.

I was now faced with a choice. If I 'zerked, I could see in the dark and even have some extra light from my glow to see by, but it would let them know I was here. If I didn't 'zerk or at least pre-zerk I wouldn't be able to see much. I hadn't realized I would be walking underground and hadn't brought a flashlight. 

I 'zerked.

Let them know I was coming.

The tunnels made me feel as if I had stepped back in time. Old fashioned chairs and furniture littered the tunnels. Rusted pieces of metal filled various rooms and side tunnels. One large room had a trap door in the ceiling and a dozen rotting bunk beds in it.

I suddenly knew what these were – the Shanghai tunnels. I had heard of these from some of my friends, but I had never been down here in person. A long time ago Portland was a dangerous town and a huge network of tunnels had been built under the city. People would drug you and then dump you in the tunnels where other kidnapers would sell you to ship captains. By the time you woke up, you were out to sea and had no choice but to stay on and crew the ship.

I continued searching the tunnels, straining my senses to get any sense of where to go. Finally, I got frustrated and stopped.

"I'm here!" I shouted. "You're going to have to come to me because I can't find you down here!"

Silence was my only response.

And then I felt someone 'zerk. There was my answer.

I ran through the tunnels, using the feeling as my guide. I made several wrong turns, but each time I got a little closer. I had no idea where I was under the city, but at this point I didn't care.

I just wanted to find Amy.

I continued to hone in on the feeling until I could tell I was close. Unfortunately, there was a wall in my way.

Using only a fraction of my strength, I punched a hole in the wall and pulled the stones apart until there was enough room for me to get through.

I stepped out into the largest room I had been in so far. It stretched for hundreds of feet in every direction. It looked as if at one point it had been divided up into smaller rooms, but the wood had rotted and broken, leaving only strange marks on the floor, like a maze.

With my enhanced vision, I could see Amy at the far side of the room. She was locked in a smaller room with a tiny barred window for her to look out of.

"Run, Madison!" she yelled. "It's a trap!"

While I appreciated the warning, the whole trap thing was not exactly shocking. Of course they had lured me here to kill me.

I just didn't plan on cooperating.

Josiah and Arthur both stepped out of the room where Amy was being held, their bright glows casting eerie shadows across the room.

"Welcome, Madison," Josiah said. "I wasn't sure you were going to get our message."

"Yeah, I got it," I said.

Josiah spread his arms. "Isn't this place fantastic?" he said. "A real piece of Portland history. I came to Portland before I knew you, back in the late 1890s. A couple of 'gentlemen' tried to drug my drink. Obviously, I couldn’t let them get away with that. But I was curious as to what they had been planning for me, so I went along with it. They used a trap door to drop me in these tunnels. I waited until their boss came to try and sell me before I let them know just how angry I was. I'm afraid there wasn't much left of them by the time I was done."

"Gee, thanks for the history lesson," I said. "Just what I came here for. Now let Amy go."

"Oh we will," Arthur said. "As soon as we've taken care of you."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my varé. I flicked it open.