Elijah's Chariot (The Forgotten Children Book 1) (21 page)

“He
just walked through the wall – like it wasn’t there,” Sean finished. 

Pyotr
looked accusingly at Ivan. “Did you know he could do that?”

Ivan
shook his head and stared back at the tall, fuming youth. “Did anyone know he
could do that?” screamed Pyotr.

His
voice echoed off the vaulted ceilings and intricate chandeliers, reverberating
in the silence. Pyotr swallowed slowly to regain his composure and walked back
to the middle of the group of children.

“Does
anyone know where he used to live? Around here?”

The
children remained silent. Suddenly, young Kostya blurted, “Maybe he went to see
the Yozh!”

“There
is no damn Yozh!” screamed Pyotr. 

Pyotr
stared at the group of frightened children surrounding him, appearing unsure as
to what to do next. Sean sensed a trickle of panic beginning to rise in the leader’s
mind, as he saw the operation that he had so carefully constructed start to
crack. The feeling of loss of control was plainly evident as the tall,
dark-haired boy walked back over to the double doors. 

“Okay,
new rule: anyone else escapes, and we shoot someone else here. For this one,
Alyosha’s going to get shot – as soon as we find him.”

No
one in the room moved. All the children just stared at the floor, waiting for
the next command.   

“Ivan,
get them out of here,” Pyotr grunted. 

Ivan
gestured at the other gang members who began directing the children out of the
room with their weapons. Each of them filed slowly past Pyotr and Ivan, not
daring to look them in the face.

As
Sean made his way to the door, Pyotr stepped back into the middle of the room
and gestured to the American boy. Sean glanced at Viktor, then turned to talk
to Pyotr. 

The
tall, dark-haired boy drooped his hand over Sean’s shoulder and leaned down to
look him straight in the face. For five seconds, he didn’t say anything, only
continued staring at him with his round, dark eyes. Finally, he flashed a
large, toothy grin.

“You’re
smart, American boy. You’ve done pretty well so far, especially with that fancy
trick you do with the doors. Plus, the other kids seem to listen to you –
they’ll do what you say. So, I’ve got a proposition for you.”

Pyotr
glanced over Sean’s shoulder to Ivan who was still watching the children leave
the room, making sure they weren’t carrying anything with them that they
shouldn’t be. 

“I
might have an opening soon for a new second in command. Ivan there’s great and
everything – gets the job done, but he doesn’t exactly have leadership
capabilities. Doesn’t have any of the soft touch, you know? Same with the other
guys – they pretty much just do what they’re told. I want you to keep your ears
and eyes open, okay? You can find things out for me – stuff like this Alyosha’s
disappearing power, so we’re not surprised like that again. You’ll know what to
look for – and when you find it, just come and let me know. If you continue to
impress me, there’s a place for you in the Black Scorpions. And I take care of
my own – you remember that.”

Pyotr
straightened up and pushed Sean toward the door. 

“You
keep an eye on that one, Ivan,” he called after Sean jokingly. “He’s one to
watch.”

The
smell of new tire rubber drifted into his nose as Sean knelt on the sidewalk
beside the car. His hand rubbed some flakes of dark blue paint away from the
sizable dent in the front right fender. 

“Maybe
he won’t notice,” he said over his shoulder to Ivan.

The
pale-faced boy stood staring out at the street and nodded. “He’ll notice. We’ll
have to find a new blue BMW on the way back to the hotel.”

Sean
stood up and dusted off his knee. Ivan, turning to Sean and Viktor, said
slowly, “Not a word of this to anyone.”

The
telephone pole a few feet in front of the car had a new streak of dark blue
paint carved into its base at about knee level. Ivan had swung a little wide
when pulling up in front of the U.S. Embassy. Still, Sean gave him credit for
the expert way in which he handled the car on the way over there, speeding
through the streets and making fast, but well-timed turns through the wide
boulevards. 

Ivan
motioned with his small machine gun tucked under his arm for the two of them to
start walking toward the entrance. There was a great deal of debris scattered
on the concrete steps that led up to where the front door used to be. Stepping
over large chunks of splintered wood and plaster dust, they passed the guard
room that stood right beyond the entrance. The bullet-proof glass window was
riddled with cracks. Viktor looked questioningly over at Ivan and paused in
front of the door, balancing deftly on his right leg as he gingerly applied
pressure on his left for stability. 

Ivan
shook his head. “There won’t be anything left in there now.”

The
three boys continued through the building of compact offices. Portions of the
wall were black from a fire that had raged through the room until the automatic
sprinklers had switched on. All of the stacks of manila file folders and other
stray documents were now dry, but warped with water damage.   

They
eventually found the door that led to an internal compound road behind the main
building. Sean immediately recognized the road from his visits before. The
memory made him wince as he thought about his excitement in coming here last
time with his father, trailing along dutifully as they went to meet with the
senior NASA and Embassy officials to discuss Jerry’s descent. This time, he
felt no excitement – only a pervading sense of dread. 

Rows
of two-story, non-descript buildings stretched down the opposite side of the
road. The meetings that his father had attended had taken place in a building
just like these, although Sean couldn’t recall exactly which one – they all
looked the same. 

“What
are we looking for again?” Viktor said. 

The
thick-haired boy stood half a head taller than both Sean and Ivan. He was still
dressed in his heavy, waist-length wool coat despite the cool, but pleasant
spring air. A backpack hung from his shoulders, its bottom sagging from the
weight of several books.

“Any
type of powerful weapon – bigger rifles and machine-guns, explosives, rocket
launchers if we can find them,” Ivan replied as he surveyed the abandoned and
silent Embassy compound. 

“I
thought you had taken all the weapons from Red Square and the Kremlin. There
must have been hundreds there. What will you do with more?”

Ivan’s
small, cold eyes studied Viktor. “Just in case.”

“Do
you know where weapons were kept?” he said, turning to Sean.

“I
told you, I was only here a couple times, just for some meetings. I didn’t see
any weapons.” 

“Okay,
it’s probably best if we split up, cover more area. Let’s meet back here in an
hour.” The short-haired boy re-situated the shoulder strap of his weapon. 

“Viktor
– keep your eyes open for anything… advanced or complicated looking. They might
have some secret missile systems here.”

Turning
halfway toward the two smaller buildings directly in front of them, Ivan
muttered quietly, “And I know I don’t have to remind you two about being on
time.” 

Without
waiting for any response, he began walking slowly toward the interior of the
compound. Viktor turned to the right and began limping down the street, while
Sean set off to the left. A faint wind continued to blow, rustling the scant
leaves that hung from the spindly tree branches overhead. 

The
plain brownish Embassy buildings stretched out in front of Sean for quite some
ways before finally ending in a tall concrete wall. He had a vague idea of the
size of the compound from having arrived at another entrance on one of his
trips. The large concrete wall probably surrounded the whole place, he thought
to himself. Still, that’s a lot of space for just an hour. He continued
walking, hearing Viktor’s shuffling footsteps fading away in the opposite
direction. 

Finally,
he chose one of the buildings on his right and opened the closed double doors.
Daylight poured into the long hallway stretching before him. Most of the dark
wood of the wall paneling was lost in large shadows and the deep red carpet
seemed to suck up any noise from the outside world. 

Sean
stood in the doorway, his hands still on the doors, staring into the dark
interior. There were a few doors coming off the hallway which met another
corridor toward the middle of the building. He could feel the sun’s warmth on
his back and, at the same time, smell the stale air wafting out from the dark
interior. 

The
boy bid his body to move, but for some reason, his feet stayed rooted to the
pavement in front of the door. The dark, empty hallway loomed before him,
offering no clues or hints as to its destination – only silence. What are you
afraid of, he asked himself, still staring into the darkness. You’ve entered
dozens of empty apartments and buildings before. What’s different about this
time, about this place?

He
quickly brushed the questions away and told himself to stop being silly. Still,
his feet and hands didn’t move. He stayed glued to his position on the
building’s threshold, confused and afraid. 

The
wind behind him picked up a little and he stepped onto the thick carpet and
fumbled for a light switch on the wall to his right. The florescent panels in
the ceiling flickered to life and a cold, greenish light splashed into the
hallway. Very much relieved, Sean walked forward into the building. 

Most
of the doors along the corridor were locked. Sean didn’t expect that they
contained any sort of weapons anyway – most were probably very similar to the
conference room where his father had met with all the Embassy officials. 

He
followed the hallway as it turned to the left then the right, running alongside
the outside of the building. Paintings and photographs of uniformed men adorned
the walls, with inscriptions carved on metal placards beneath them. The hallway
turned again to the right into a lobby at what Sean assumed was the back of the
building. 

The
lobby was empty except for a few cases displaying military uniforms and
ceremonial swords. To his left, daylight streamed in through head-sized windows
in the double doors at the back of the building. Opposite them, across the
lobby, was another set of doors. 

Sean
stood, staring quietly at this second set of doors that led to … what? He
couldn’t take his eyes from them, as if they were bidding him to look, to open,
to discover. He felt his pulse quicken, then swallowed a couple of times to wet
his dry mouth. 

The
building was completely silent, the only sound coming from his feet treading
carefully on the thick carpet. Then, he could hear his own heartbeat pounding
in his ears and the breath slowly blowing through his open mouth. He took a few
steps toward the doors, feeling as though they were drawing him forward, then
stopped. 

What
could be in there, he thought? Another conference room, maybe some offices –
what am I afraid of? I’m alone, he thought. Usually I go into the apartments
with the rest of the kids, but this time I’m alone. You’ve always been alone, a
quiet voice whispered inside his head. Sean nodded silently. Ever since Dad
died, he mused, I’ve been alone. Nothing to lose now. He completed the last few
steps to the carved double doors and pulled them open. 

Outside
light from behind him shone on rows of seats sloping downward into the room.
Sean groped along the wall until he found a set of switches behind a curtain
and flipped the first one. Light from some unseen source slowly brightened at
the opposite end of the room and shone on the edge of a small stage. 

The
theater had only a little over a hundred seats, but was tiered and had a second
level balcony above Sean’s head. He stepped into the cavernous room and studied
the shadows draped over the black curtain that hung at the sides of the stage.
As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw that there was furniture on the
stage – it was set for some type of play. A few lamps stood on end tables. A
couch and arm chairs were nestled silently beside a set of fake bookshelves. He
couldn’t make out what period the little living room was supposed to be in, so
he flipped another light switch.

Subtle
lamps set in the floor at the back of the stage slowly burned to life and lit a
bright red backdrop. Fascinated, Sean stepped forward to the edge of the first
step leading downward and stared at the idyllic, little nineteenth century
home. 

It
looked so out of place, so quaint. It didn’t belong in this city of drab gray
at all. Fake plants sat beside some of the arm chairs, their long leaves
draping luxuriously over a festive carpet. It made Sean wish he was there, in
that world represented by the charming little living room – somewhere warm and
happy where people sat chatting and drinking tea and eating cookies. Somewhere
very far from here. 

In
the center of the stage, toward the back, there was a large, leather-looking
armchair. Sean couldn’t tell what color exactly, since the backlighting cast
deep shadows on the seat and arms of the chair. It was turned almost completely
toward the red backdrop, its tall back facing the silent seats. The warmth and
homeliness of the small stage set drew him closer and he began descending the
steps. 

As
he walked deeper into the theater, he kept his eyes focused on the stylish
armchair, its graceful curves reminding him of a time and place long forgotten.
Getting closer, he could see the faint outline of something resting on the arm
of the chair. 

Sean
stopped. His eyes darted quickly to the corners of the room, to the barely
visible side wings of the stage behind the curtains. The theater itself was
empty – only a few additional pieces of furniture and gaily painted backdrops
waited silently behind the partially drawn stage curtain. 

He
stepped quietly to his right into a row of seats about halfway down the sloping
aisle. The overhead theater lights were casting deep shadows that covered much
of the armchair. It didn’t look right, sitting there toward the back of the
set, facing away from the audience. It was out of place. 

Sean
squinted in the dim light, trying to make out the faint shape he saw on the arm
of the chair, but couldn’t. The distance to the edge of the stage was short, he
could just run down for a quick look, he would still be able to get back up the
aisle out of the theater, in case… in case what? What was he so afraid of? I’m
just being silly, Sean thought. I’ve spooked myself, I should just leave and go
on searching for secret missile systems or whatever. 

But,
he couldn’t leave. He stayed rooted to his spot among the empty seats for
several minutes, staring at the armchair and the rest of the quiet set, a red
glow illuminating everything. Clenching his jaw, he made a quick decision and
started walking before his mind could summon up another argument as to why he
shouldn’t have a closer look. 

He
felt his feet quickly running down the few remaining steps and then leaping up
onto the stage, his heart pounding, almost two beats a second. Sean paused
again, almost confused as to how he got onto the stage so quickly, looking
around at the warmly decorated couch cushions and the leather-bound tomes
sitting peacefully on the rich oak shelf. 

The
armchair sat directly in front of him, only seven or eight feet away. He could
make out the edge of some type of dark blue cloth, lying on the armrest, but
still wasn’t close enough to hazard any guesses as to what else might be in the
chair. 

As
he stepped to the right, his feet inched carefully forward, drawing him closer
to the chair. He watched riveted as his view of the blue cloth expanded to
reveal a sleeve, and then a jacket and pants of the same material. 

Sean
was just a couple of feet away from the chair when he saw the ashen hand
sticking out of the navy-blue sleeve, clutching a square-shaped, dull black
pistol. From his position, the upward sloping sides of the armchair blocked
Sean’s view of the face that he knew must be there.

His
mouth had gone completely dry and his heart continued to march rapidly in his
chest. The silence of the theater and the dank air seemed to envelop him,
locking him away in a small, separate world where only he and the armchair’s
occupant existed. Despite the fear he could feel rising higher and higher in
his throat, he couldn’t manage to tear his eyes away or keep his body from
moving forward to see more. 

His
fingers lightly touched the thick chair leather and he looked down to see the
man’s face. The skin was a deep purplish gray and sagged like old, wet paper.
There was a hole in the right temple and crusted blood was stuck to the side of
the head down to the jacket lapel. 

Sean
stared at the ghastly scene before him. All his earlier feelings of home and
warmth were gone, replaced now by the desperation and horror of the man’s last
act. His heartbeat began to slow and his breathing became more natural as he
studied the pitiful shell in front of him, soaking up an almost overwhelming
feeling of utter loss and hopelessness. He wanted to leave, to run out of the
theater and its mocking scene of deceptive peace, and try to purge the entire
picture from his mind forever. But, he stood and stared down at the body, his
legs locked in position. 

Suddenly,
the rushing sensation filled his mind: the sound of wind and water swirling
around inside his head, overwhelming his senses. Sean’s eyes widened in terror
as he stared at the dead man sitting in the chair. The rushing sensation was
unmistakable – he knew it meant that someone near him was using their special
power. Only now he was alone – alone in a darkened theater with a dead man, a
suicide. Someone nearby must be using their power, but there was no one else
here, no one except… except the dead man. That’s impossible, Sean thought. He
couldn’t use his power if he was dead… unless he wasn’t dead. Or, unless he
was
dead and was suddenly coming back to life!

Suddenly,
with that last thought, Sean’s legs found the resolve they’d lacked only
moments earlier and he whirled around and ran toward the front of the stage,
launching himself into the air as his heart thudded loudly in his chest. 

Taking
two steps at a time, he reached the top quickly, ran through the open doors and
sprinted across the lobby. He slammed into the doors leading outside, wrapping
his sweating hands around the knobs and yanking furiously, trying to get them
to open, to let him out. He heard his voice start to rise at the back of his
throat, the beginnings of a deep scream welling up within him. He pounded his
fists furiously on the door, still seeing the sightless stare of the dead man’s
cold, lifeless eyes.   

Strong
hands grabbed his shoulders, pulling him backward. Sean screamed in surprise
and fear as panic washed over him in a powerful wave. The hands immediately let
go and the person stepped away, letting Sean fall to the floor. 

“Easy
on the screaming, kid, what’re you trying to wake the dead?”

Sean
stared at the uniformed man standing above him, his hands clamped tightly over
his ears. The man was wearing an olive green jumpsuit and large, black boots.
His short-haired head was bare and he had a rifle slung over his shoulder. The
man was thin and had a clean young face.   

Sean
sat up quickly, his fear fading slowly as he watched the man shaking his head
from left to right, still massaging his ears. The boy stared for a few seconds,
studying the stranger’s soft features. It wasn’t the dead man from the theater,
Sean could tell that much. No, this guy was entirely new, yet he looked somehow
familiar, like they’d met somewhere before…

“I
know you!” Sean blurted.  

“Quietly,
okay, you gotta keep it quiet, my ears are a little sensitive now,” said the
young soldier in an easy southern drawl. 

“You’re
from here – I saw you here at the Embassy before… the day after Jerry landed.
You were in that meeting…”

“Hey
– right! You’re one of the NASA guys’ kid, aren’t you? What are you doing here
now?”

Sean
sat staring in disbelief at the smiling soldier. The man offered him his hand,
“Private McCaney – Ryan.” Sean took his hand and was pulled to his feet.

“Sean
Prochazek,” he said distractedly as he stood shaking Private McCaney’s hand.

“Pleased
to meet you, Sean. Boy, it’s been quite a while since…”

“Why
are you alive?”

Ryan
smiled, the left corner of his mouth pulling more than the right. “Why
shouldn’t I be?”

“Because…
all the grown-ups everywhere are dead. We haven’t found any alive – no adults
survived,” Sean stammered.