Elijah's Chariot (The Forgotten Children Book 1) (20 page)

The
boy continued walking, the counter passing through his midsection and legs
until he came through on the other side of it and opened up his eyes, smiling.
Sean, Viktor, Svyeta and Zhenya all stared at him in amazement. 

“When
did you learn to do that?” Svyeta asked, still staring at the boy.

“I
was just taking a quick break after working a couple days ago and was leaning
against the wall. I got really relaxed and just thought about lying back to
just sit down for a minute. I took a few steps back and then realized that I’d
walked right through a wall into the next apartment. I was lucky I didn’t go
through one of the outside walls or I would have fallen to the ground!”

They
laughed gleefully and walked around the counter to pat Alyosha on the back and
to see with their own eyes that it hadn’t been some kind of trick. 

“I
can’t take anyone else with me though. I kind of tried earlier with Kostya – I
went through, but he just stayed on the same side of the wall, like normal.
But, this way I can get out of the hotel during the night and find the Yozh. I
can tell him where Pyotr and Ivan are holding everyone and he can come help us
escape,” Alyosha said excitedly.

“It
would be better to have him and his gang come while we’re out working. We’d
have a better chance of getting away,” Sean said. “I think I have an idea for
how we can cause a distraction…”

Sean
was cut off by the thundering sound of an engine roaring through the halls of
the shopping plaza. At first darting out of the store to see where the sound
was coming from, Sean and the other children immediately jumped back as a
beat-up Soviet-era Lada sped by. The car screeched to a halt about thirty
meters past them, leaving black tire marks on the white flooring. Pyotr, a
fifteen-year old heavily made-up girl named Natasha and one of Pyotr’s guards,
a sixteen year-old named Kiril, stepped out of the car smiling.

“What
are you doing with a car in here?” Svyeta shouted at the boys. 

Pyotr
walked up to the group that had just emerged from the jewelry store, Natasha on
his arm as he flashed a malicious grin at all of them. 

“Ivan
told me you were having some trouble getting into a few of the stores. No
disrespect to your unique abilities, my American friend,” he said nodding
toward Sean, “but, we thought it would be more fun to use a battering ram.”

Ivan,
walkie-talkie and machine-gun in hand, rounded a corner and stopped when he saw
his leader. “Down this way – we’ve got a couple gates over a big jewelry shop
and a make-up store.”

“What
do we want with make-up?” Sean asked as they began walking in the direction
Ivan had indicated.

“My
young friend – maybe when you’re older you’ll realize that ladies have… needs,”
he said nuzzling Natasha behind the ear. She let out a nervous giggle and they
continued walking. Kiril got back into the car behind them, turned it around
and followed.

Ivan
pointed down at one of the stores at the end of a long, wide hallway. Some of
the other children had taken a break from their work to come see what the
commotion was. They stood back as Kiril revved the engine a few times. Finally,
the old car lurched forward with a painful screech and sped down toward the
make-up store at the end of the hallway. 

As
the vehicle gathered speed over the short distance, Sean and the others watched
in a mesmerized state of excitement and fear. He’s either not going to get
through that metal gate or he’s going to send himself through the windshield in
the process, Sean thought to himself as he watched the car race along. Probably
both. 

When
the car was about thirty feet away, speeding along at roughly fifty miles per
hour, a restroom door right next to the make-up store opened up and Kostya, the
four-year-old who had accidentally set the hotel tapestry on fire the previous
night, emerged carrying a sack of loot. He began to cross in front of the
make-up store, completely absorbed with the bag of treasure in his hands, until
he heard the car’s engine coming toward him. 

The
boy froze in place, his mouth hanging open as he stared incredulously at the
vehicle driving very fast in a place where he knew cars weren’t supposed to be.
Kiril slammed on the brakes, not having any time to veer to the side for fear
of rolling the car right into the store front. Sean and the others looked on in
horror from the other end of the hall, unable to do anything.

Suddenly,
Sean was vaguely aware of the rushing sensation gathering force in his mind. A
brief thought flashed that it may be Viktor’s or Pyotr’s power that he was
picking up, when suddenly they saw that one of the other boys had come running
out of another store at that end of the long hallway. They hadn’t noticed him
at first because their attention was riveted on Kostya and the car speeding
toward him. 

The
quickly approaching boy was a ten-year-old named Aleksandr who Ivan and his
crew had picked up and brought to the hotel just a couple days ago. His feet
raced along the floor as he moved toward Kostya, trying to beat the skidding
car that was now coming for them both.

Kostya,
still frozen in place with terror, finally managed to drop the bag of loot and
get his hands up in a vain attempt to protect himself from the oncoming car. In
his panic, jets of flame shot out of his fingertips at the vehicle, engulfing
the hood and windshield in fire, but without enough force to even slow the
out-of-control car. 

A
split second later, Aleksandr slammed into Kostya, throwing him several yards
to the side. Although Aleksandr’s momentum was enough to get Kostya out of the
way, the sudden ball of flame surprised him and he stopped his forward motion
as he flinched at the explosion of fire. The last thing he did before the car
slammed into him was to throw up his own hands in defense. 

Although
they couldn’t be exactly sure from their vantage point, Sean and the others
thought they saw the front of the car stop and bend around Aleksandr’s hands.
As the front of the vehicle stopped, the back end kept going and the car
flipped forward upside-down, up and over Aleksandr and the trunk slammed into
the front of the make-up store behind him. 

The
children raced down to the end of the hallway. Aleksandr had collapsed on the
floor and was shaking violently, his light brown hair quivering as he stared at
the ceiling in shock. Svyeta and Sean quickly knelt by his side and examined
him for injuries. But there were none – he was completely fine. Kostya was
sitting on the floor several feet away crying, so Svyeta ran over to help him.
He also was unscathed – just very frightened. 

“Hey,
hey you okay?” shouted Pyotr at Kiril who now hung upside down from his
seatbelt in the car. The front half of the vehicle was bent in a u-shape almost
all the way up to the dashboard.

“Yeah,
yeah, I’m, I’m okay, I think,” mumbled Kiril. “Hey, what – did I kill that
kid?”

Pyotr
looked over at Aleksandr who Sean had helped into a sitting position. The boy’s
eyes were wide in shock as he stared down at his own body which was still
shaking.

“No,
no,” Pyotr said shaking his head in disbelief, “I think he’s going to be
okay.” 

Sean
glanced up at Viktor who had made it down the hallway just a few seconds ago.
The Russian boy had quickly been assessing the situation as he limped along.
Now, he simply looked at Sean, a small grin beginning at the corner of his
mouth, and nodded. 

“It
had to be either the ability to withstand physical injury or some kind of
amazing strength power,” Viktor said quickly as he eased himself down into the
chair next to Sean’s cot. “Or, possibly some kind of force field… perhaps one
that only affects metal…”

“You’re
back to the force field idea?” Sean said, smiling as he pulled on his shoes. It
was still early morning, the day after the trip to the shopping mall. After the
initial shock, all three boys – Aleksandr, Kostya and Kiril – were fine. Pyotr
and Ivan questioned Aleksandr at length, demanding to know what power he’d
used, how strong it was and how often he could use it. But, the young boy had
pleaded ignorance, insisting that he’d never been able to do anything like that
before. 

“Have
you noticed anything? With yourself, I mean. Any new ability?” Viktor asked as
he carefully scrutinized Sean’s features.

“No,
nothing yet.”

“Are
you any stronger? Have you tried to lift anything heavy?”

Sean
walked behind Viktor’s chair and grabbed the seat with the boy still in it.
After heaving and straining for a moment, he gave up and flopped back down onto
his cot. “Still weak,” he said smiling. “Of course, you are really heavy –
maybe my new power just isn’t strong enough yet.”

“Very
funny,” Viktor replied. “What about resistance to injury?”

“You
want to drive a car into me to test it?” Sean asked with eyebrows raised.
“Maybe a gunshot to my leg?”
       “Good point. That one would be difficult to verify.” Viktor stared off
into space, squinting in concentration.

The
sound of keys turning in the lock quickly drew everyone’s attention to the
door. Most of the other kids were up by now. Svyeta finished pulling on her
sister’s shoes and sat beside her on the cot, staring at the floor. 

Ivan
stepped into the room as Sergey finished pulling the keys out of the lock. The
white-haired, young teen glowered at the room of children staring back at him.
He was dressed in his customary oversized, black wool sailor coat, similar to
the one that Pyotr occasionally wore. The sleeves usually covered his hands and
the bottom dragged on the floor, but he wore it everywhere he went. That and
the sub-machine gun slung over his shoulder. 

Ivan
gestured for a couple of the boys to step out into the hall for the breakfast.
As the hungry children gathered around the long dining table, they set down
boxes of orange juice, dry cereal and a few hunks of cheese. Wide eyes stared
at Ivan, as they stood waiting. With a casual wave of his hand, he bid the
children to eat. They quickly descended on the food, almost shaking with
anticipation as they passed boxes back to the younger kids. 

“I
want milk,” Zhenya whined to her sister. 

“It’s
all spoiled,” Ivan replied. 

Some
of the kids sat at the table to eat, while others returned to their cots. Within
a few minutes, they’d devoured everything and sat around listlessly, silently
wishing for more. 

Sean
heard a playful shriek down the hall and looked toward the door as a seventeen
year old girl with heavy make-up around her eyes backed into the room. She was
staring in mock pain at Pyotr who was trailing behind her, holding her hands
with a mischievous smile on his face. This was a different girl than the one
who Pyotr had brought to the mall yesterday. 

“You
brute, not around the children,” she whispered loudly and playfully slapped his
hands.

The
tall, dark-haired boy said nothing, but continued smiling as he quickly glanced
around the room. 

“Lieutenant
Fyodorov,” he said to Ivan, “have the workers been fed?”

“Yes
sir.”

Pyotr
kissed the girl’s hand and stepped forward. 

“I
trust you all slept well, we have a lot of work to do today.” The smile was
gone now.      

“Viktor,
how many kilos of food have we collected this week?”

“Three-hundred
fifty – roughly.” Viktor stood beside Sean at the edge of the table, leaning
against its edge to ease the weight on his left leg. 

“How
long will that last us?” Pyotr replied, smiling at Ivan and the others. 

“Well,
assuming each of us consumes about two kilos a day, then only another week or
so,” Viktor stammered quickly, his eyes moving rapidly back and forth as he
made the calculations. 

“Hear
that, kids? Not long at all! We’ll have to pick up the pace if we want to keep
eating. You want to keep eating, don’t you?” Pyotr said as he jeered at the
frightened group. 

The
children nodded mutely. Sean opened his mouth to give Pyotr a few suggestions
on how to improve the food gathering process, but a sharp look from Svyeta
silenced him. She’s so afraid of him, Sean thought to himself. That’s probably
wise of her, but if we’re always afraid of him and his gang then we’ll never be
able to break free. They’ll control us and keep us here forever. 

Sean
stared at Pyotr and the other boys, their new clothing, recently scrubbed skin
and mirthful faces. He wondered how this could all be so funny to them, how
they could hold them all captive, forcing them to do all the hard work, while
starving and scaring them into submission. Sean agreed that food had to be
gathered and stored, but there was certainly a better way than using slave
labor. He knew that there were still thousands of children out there, deftly
evading the gang’s reach as they made their own struggle for survival in the
recently abandoned city. Maybe they didn’t realize how cruel they were being,
maybe none of them had little brothers or sisters before and didn’t know about
how kids suffered. 

He
began imagining who they all were before all the adults had died. Many of them,
including Pyotr and Ivan, looked like they’d already been living on the street
before Jerry fell. Their confidence and bravado had served them well before and
were serving them well again. But, some of the others who were part of the gang
didn’t look like they quite belonged in such a group of bullies and miscreants.
They were probably just normal high school kids before, playing sports and
working at after-school jobs. Several times he’d detected some hint of shame
from them when Pyotr or Ivan would scold or punish one of the younger children
for being too slow or making a mistake. Sean couldn’t pinpoint the color that
he saw that indicated shame, but he knew exactly what it was the first time
he’d sensed it. It was a mottled mass of other colors that looked like they
were folding in upon themselves, swallowing up the center of the person. Despite
this, none of them ever appeared to resist the gang’s leaders, and even joined
in on some of the beatings occasionally. 

Sean
watched Pyotr continue talking, but he was no longer listening to the words. He
was wondering if he himself had changed in the past few weeks since his parents
had died, since he’d been left alone in a foreign city with no one and no way
back home. He knew that he wasn’t as afraid anymore – living relatively on his
own and developing his rapidly increasing number of abilities had given him a
level of confidence that he knew would have been difficult to obtain otherwise
at his age. But, even more than that, he felt that he was somehow different
than the bright, unsuspecting boy that had flown halfway across the world,
trailing the father he adored and looking forward to a grand new adventure.
Now, he didn’t look forward to any big adventures, to any new discoveries. All
he looked forward to was the next time he could eat or sleep, when he could
rest his mind from the thoughts that continually raced through it, plaguing all
his waking hours with worry about getting punished or being trapped in the
hotel for the rest of his life. He suddenly realized that he hadn’t really
thought of Elizabeth much for the past several days. Am I forgetting her
already, he worried to himself. How long will it be before I can’t even
remember her face any more?

“Svyeta,
make sure your little sister only brings back the containers that aren’t open,”
Pyotr said as he stood lecturing the group of children. “Just the closed cans
and bottles, okay, Zhenya?”

“And
the rest of you – you have to check the tops of closets for jewelry or anything
interesting. You’ve been leaving a lot of valuable stuff behind. Remember how
it goes?”

The
children began to chant slowly together, their voices gaining volume as they
went. “Get the food, guns and jewelry in coats, purses, bags, closets, desks,
drawers…”

“And
what do you do if you find a safe that’s locked or a desk that you can’t open?”

“Find
Ivan,” they all shouted. 

“That’s
right,” Pyotr said, flashing a smile over at the teenage girl. 

The
children waited on their cots and around the dining table, staring dully at the
older boys who were sharing conspiratorial glances. 

Suddenly
getting very serious, Pyotr stepped forward and looked carefully at the faces
of the children closest to him. “And, does anyone remember what happens if
someone doesn’t come back at the end of the day?”

None
of the children said a word. Little Kostya fidgeted and flashed his large blue
eyes around at the others, wanting to give the answer, but not sure if he was
allowed. Pyotr looked down at the boy and pointed to him.

“Kostya,
what happens if someone doesn’t come back to the hotel?”

The
sandy-haired boy smiled broadly and waved his arms as he shouted, “Don’t come
back, get no food!”

Pyotr
smiled grimly and nodded. “That’s right. If even one of you decides to hide
somewhere and doesn’t come back, then the rest don’t get to eat until that
child returns. None of you wants little Zhenya to starve, do you?”

Everyone
was silent. Pyotr stared carefully again at several of the children’s faces
individually, taking a couple of seconds to scrutinize each one. Sean knew that
he was reading their emotions, trying to see if anyone was angry or feeling a
little rebellious, searching for anything besides what he wanted them to feel –
fear. 

Satisfied,
Pyotr stepped back and put his arm around the girl and said, “Now we had some
fun at the mall yesterday, but today – it’s back to the real work.”

He
gestured to Ivan. The latter stepped forward, his heavily pronounced jaw
clenching as he addressed the group in rough, mock drill sergeant tones. 

“Igor’s
group will continue on Tverskaya today, starting with building 149. You’ll have
the main truck, so pack it tight. Svyeta – you and the girls finish the top
floors of 147 and then start on 149 after the boys have the doors open.”

His
voice cracked slightly on the last word, but no one made any sign that they’d
noticed. A couple of days earlier one of the girls had giggled when Ivan’s
voice cracked while he was barking orders at one of the teams. His first blow
had knocked her to the ground and he would have continued on had some of the
other gang members not pulled him off her. From then on, everyone completely
ignored his changing adolescent voice. 

“Viktor
– you and Sean are with me. Alyosha – you and your boys start at the top of 149
and let Igor work up from the bottom… hey – Alyosha!”

Ivan
stepped into the middle of the room and turned around, pushing kids aside as he
walked. “Where’s Alyosha?”

“Bathroom!”
yelled out Zhenya.

“Sergey
– check it out,” Ivan ordered as he continued to pace the room. Sergey
disappeared into the hallway. Sean and Viktor stared forward, not blinking.
Although they didn’t chance a look toward Svyeta, they could see from the
corners of their eyes that she was doing the same. 

A
few seconds later, Sergey returned. “Not there.”

Pyotr
looked up from nuzzling the girl’s neck and said, “Was he at breakfast?”

The
five armed gang members stared dumbly at each other, throwing questioning
glances as Ivan continued to stalk around the room, pulling blankets and
pillows off cots. Pyotr pushed himself away from the wall where he’d been
leaning with his bubble-gum chewing girlfriend and walked over to Svyeta. 

“Where’s
Alyosha?”

“I
swear, I have no idea, I haven’t seen him this morning at all…”

A
frightened yelp jumped out of her mouth as Pyotr grabbed it and pulled her face
close to his. “Are you lying?”

She
shook her head as much as she could in his grip, trying to avoid looking into
the dark eyes only inches from hers. 

“Yes,
you are – I can see it! Where is he?” Pyotr screamed. 

Sean
stepped forward quickly. “He said he was going back to his apartment. He wanted
to bury his parents – they’re still there. He said he’d be back in a few days.”

“How’d
he get out?” Ivan asked quietly.

Sean
turned toward the smaller, white-haired boy who was regarding him with a cold
stare. The American boy was suddenly aware that all attention was on him. 

“Through
the wall,” Sean said, knowing that he couldn’t throw out too many lies without
Pyotr catching on. With the ability to sense emotions, neither of them could
really tell whether someone was telling the truth, but they could sense if
someone was nervous or concentrating hard on hiding something. Sean exhaled
slowly, letting his chest grow smaller and smaller as he cleared his head of
any other thoughts or intentions besides the true fact that he was now
telling.