Semblance (28 page)

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Four,” Shadow muttered underneath his breath before shaking his head. “Fuck.”

For a moment his eyes flashed to the direction of one of the demon-faced guards in front of us. It took me only a second to realize what he was getting at.

Shadow was contemplating taking out the four guards, escorting us, on his own and without a gun.

It was suicide.

But then again, so was walking into whatever game they had in store for us next. After watching Justin burn, I realized there was very little hope for us to get out of this alive. Sinister was cruel and a liar and at this point, there was no reason not to think that Lincoln was dead as well.

I wanted to scream.

“I know what you’re thinking,” one of the guards said to Shadow. “You’re thinking about taking us out.”

I froze in my tracks. How did he know?

“The odds are against you,” he continued, “But then again, I’ve always been one to play the odds. The question for you Shadow is, are you a risk taker like myself?”

“Hey, we’re not paid to talk,” another one of the demon-faced thugs said, turning his attention to the yapper.

“I’m just trying to create some dialogue, unlike you, you anti-social conversation Nazi.”

“What the fuck is the problem here?” another one of the masked men asked.  “Can we please all just shut up, get them to the helipad already so we can finish the job? I want to get paid and go home.”

“Why can’t we be friends?” the talkative one asked.

“Just shut the fuck up,” the first guard said, his patience worn thin. “Please, just shut the fuck up.”

“You shut up,” the yapper said. In a moment of complete surrealism, I watched as the chatty guard raised his gun and blew apart the thug next to him with a round of bullets to the chest.

I dropped to the ground, hands over my head, and watched as Shadow tackled another guard to the ground, trying to wrestle the gun out of his hands.

“Lincoln, there’s one more,” Shadow cried out as he continued to struggle with the guard beneath him.

Lincoln?

The yappy guard immediately turned to the last demon-faced man standing and pulled the trigger, spraying the walls with red matter.

Lincoln wiped the makeup off his face with the back of his sleeve and nodded at me.

Meanwhile Shadow managed to tear the gun out of his adversary’s hands after delivering a crushing fist into the man’s throat. It took only one bullet to end the fight for good.

“I thought I ordered you to leave here,” Shadow said, wiping the sweat off his brow.

“You honestly thought I’d listen to you?”

“Nope.”

“And did you expect anything less from me?” Lincoln asked, looking at the bodies of Sinister’s men on the ground.

“Of course not,” Shadow replied, patting Lincoln on the back. “Come on, let’s go save my sister.”

#

It had stopped raining but the night air harbored a chill. Calisto stood at the center of the helicopter landing pad, hands bound behind her back. She must have been freezing in the
white evening gown, her shoulders and legs bare.

The large torches that aligned the circumference of the helipad didn’t seem to provide much warmth for her, though it did succeed in creating a creepy atmosphere.

Calisto tried to shout something at us, but the gag covering the lower half of her face muffled her. Instead, all I could hear was a desperate scream.

Shadow’s first instinct was to run to her, but after no more than three steps, Sinister stood behind Calisto and pressed a knife against her bare neck.

“One more step and I end her life,” he said.

“Move a fucking muscle and I put a hole in your head,” Lincoln threatened, his gun aimed at the bastard. “If I see so much as a drop of blood spill from Calisto, you’re finished.”

“I give you credit for being such a sneaky bastard,” Sinister said, “But you lose points for being an impatient little shit. In fact, I’m disappointed in all of you. You’d think to examine your surroundings before rushing head first into an obvious trap.”

“Put down your gun,” a voice echoed from above us.

A high powered rifle was pointed in our direction, held by the fucker who had murdered Abraham.

The sight of the White Crow made my blood boil. I could still feel Abraham’s lifeless body in my arms, a phantom memory that will haunt me forever.

“Fucking coward,” Lincoln shouted. “Come down here and fight like you have balls.”

The White Crow laughed as he directed the red dot from his rifle onto the centre of Lincoln’s forehead.

“Crows like to be perched up high,” the assassin replied. “I’m sure the guys down on the ground would be happy to accommodate your request.”

From out of the shadows, two more demon-faced men emerged, guns in hand. I could see the look of anger and disappointment on Shadow’s face. He gave Lincoln a glance that said,
we fucked up.

“The fault isn’t yours,” Sinister said. “It’s human nature to allow emotions to overcome logic and reasoning. That is why you fail and I succeed.”

“What are you then?” Shadow asked, “An emotionless psychopath?”

“I gave up on relationships long ago,” Sinister said. “It was the only way to get ahead in life, the true way to obtain power. Once you start caring for someone, you allow yourself a weakness.” He grabbed a handful of Calisto’s hair and pulled her head back, exposing the pale flesh of her neck and pressed the edge of the knife against her throat. “This stupid bitch over here is one of yours Shadow.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Shadow warned.

“Oh hush now,” Sinister said. “Don’t you see? I’m trying to free you of one of your weaknesses. You were destined to do great things Shadow, but you allowed your human frailty to control you. You had the genius of Julius C
aesar and the ambition of Napolean, yet you sadly wasted most of your time trying to avenge the death of your parents; countless hours wasted searching for me.”

“Who are you?” Shadow asked.

“All shall be revealed soon enough,” Sinister said, “But the game comes first.”

“No, I’m done with your games.”

“Then you’re done with your sister’s life.” Sinister pushed the blade deeper into Calisto’s neck until her skin broke and red began trickling down her throat.

“You’ll kill her anyways,” Shadow said. “All your games are rigged.”

“That’s not true,” Sinister replied. “Lincoln was freed after winning my game.”

“I don’t feel free,” Lincoln said, gesturing to the two guards who had their guns fixated on us.

“You can only blame yourself. Instead of walking through the open door, you decided to kill my men and play dress up, which I had already anticipated.” The blade of the knife moved half and inch across Calisto’s throat and she let out a muffled scream underneath the gag.

“Are you ready to play yet?” Sinister asked.

Neither Shadow nor Lincoln responded.

“Good,” he said. One of the guards walked over to us brandishing a large bowie knife. He dropped it at Shadow’s feet.

“The game is fairly simple,” Sinister continued. “I will count to three and you will either stab your girlfriend in the heart or I’ll kill your sister.”

Shadow stared at the knife on the ground.

“I don’t have to repeat the rules now, do I?” Sinister asked.

“You can’t expect me to do that,” Shadow said.

“Sure I can. It’s a simple choice. Choose who will live—Calisto or the Golden Virgin. You have until the count of three.”

Shadow ignored the knife on the ground. “No,” he cried out. “I will not make this choice.”

“Three seconds,” the cloaked man said. “Pick up the knife and choose a life. There is no negotiation.”

Shadow’s weary eyes turned to me and I saw the helpless expression on his face. I knew what decision he needed to make, and I couldn’t blame him. Calisto was family after all—his twin. There was a bond that they shared that was far deeper than our love which had
just
blossomed.

“One,” Sinister shouted from the helipad.

I turned to Lincoln, who was frozen in place. “Shadow…” he began while staring at Calisto longingly.

“I love you” I said to Shadow just before closing my eyes.

I thought of my dad holding me tightly as a child when I was most scared. He always made me feel safe.

“Two,” I heard Sinister shout from the distance.

I let out a deep breath and waited for Shadow’s knife to enter me. I couldn’t help but think about the kid I had murdered in Calisto’s apartment. Not only did I feel remorse for what I done but fear also. If there was a hell, I had punched myself a one way ticket and the kid was probably waiting for me down there along with the Black Crow.

I would never see my dad again nor Justin who I needed to apologize to.

Suddenly I heard both Shadow and Lincoln scream.

I opened my eyes in time to see the knife protruding from Calisto’s h
eart, a trickle of blood painting a thin red line down Calisto’s white gown.

“Fuck it,” Sinister said. “You took too long. I made the decision for you.”

I looked at Shadow, who was gripping the bowie knife in his hands, pointing it in my direction.

“You fucker!” Lincoln cried.

“You disappoint me Shadow,” Sinister said. “I thought this was an easy choice. Instead you had to think about saving the whore while your own blood’s life was in jeopardy. Hasn’t anyone ever taught you that family comes first? In the end, it was
you
who stabbed her in the heart.”

There was a blank, catatonic look on Shadow’s face as the knife fell from his hands and onto the ground. I ran to Shadow and held him.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered as I held him tightly.

“You surprise me Aria,” Sinister said. “I thought you’d be pissed that given one more second, Shadow was going to kill you.”

“None of us know that,” I shouted. “You never gave him a choice.”

“Of course I did,” Sinister said. “He just took too long to make it.”

“You promised him three seconds,” Lincoln shouted.

“He shouldn’t have
needed
three seconds. Hell if it were me, I would have stabbed the Golden Virgin in a heartbeat. No one in this world is worth the life of my own blood.”

I looked at Shadow who was visibly shaking. I wanted to say something to him, but there was no combination of words in existence that could make this right. Instead I held onto him.

From the distance, the sounds of a helicopter approaching signaled the end of Sinister’s games. He was going to escape cleanly with the blood of the Midnight Society on his hands. In one single night, he had destroyed the organization.

“The game is done,” Sinister said. “I’m tired. Let’s call it an evening.”

His words cued the demon-faced guards to pull the trigger on the guns that were pointed at us.

I blinked hard, anticipating a round of bullets to rip us all to shreds. However there was no barrage of gunfire—only an empty click.

“What the hell?” one of the guards cursed.

“Do it the old fashioned way you lazy shits,” Sinister cried out. “And entertain me. You goons are unworthy of any more of my bullets.”

Lincoln was quick to react and lunged for the knife that Shadow had dropped to the ground.

Shadow, still in shock over Calisto’s death, remained unmoved.

“You have to help Lincoln—” I began shouting, but was suddenly blindsided by a muscular arm wrapping itself around my neck, choking the life out of me.

“My employer promised me your head,” the White Crow whispered into my ear, his breath emitting a foul stench of tobacco and vodka. “I hope my brother has a front row seat in hell as he watches me tear you apart.”

Tears stung my eyes as I watched Shadow spring to his feet, reaching out for me. I extended my arm to him as well and for a brief second, our fingertips touched, but the contact was short lived.

I abruptly felt myself plummeting over the edge of the building, the White Crow’s arms still wrapped around my body.

Did this man hate me that much that he was willing to dive headfirst into the mouth of hell just so he could drag me down there with him?

I closed my eyes—and without screaming—waited for darkness to come.

#

Chapter Thirty-Four

I hit the ground quicker than I had expected, and it hurt like a bitch. I was winded and struggled to gasp for air.

Air—I could still breathe, which meant I wasn’t dead.

Yet.

I opened my eyes and saw the large rifle pointed at my face. I was still groggy from the fall but I managed to piece together what had happened.

The White Crow had grabbed me and jumped off the edge, landing one level below. I had crashed onto the balcony of the unfinished penthouse suites.

“Now that I have you alone, I believe we can have a chat,” the White Crow grinned, “About how you killed my brother and how I’m going to put you down like the miserable bitch you are.”

I stared at the White Crow with a venomous gaze.

“You murdered Abraham,” I seethed. “You killed him in front of me.”

“That old shit needed to go,” the White Crow replied. “Be happy it was quick. He deserved to suffer much more than he did.”

He walked over to me and licked his lips with his long slug-like tongue. “You however…”

I found myself taking a few steps back. The rifle was focused on me like a homing beacon. It was only a matter time before he pulled the trigger.

I was deer thrown into the den of a lion.

#

This brought me to now. I was a lonely girl with the shattered dreams of being a musician.

Two people that I cared for were dead because of me—one of them six feet under and the other a pile of ash and bone. It only made sense that I was next to die.

It seemed foolish to think that only three weeks ago, my biggest worry in life was scrounging enough money to have a hot meal. Now, my fears included assassins, serial killers, hit squads, and the devil that waited for me in the afterlife.

The White Crow was still waiting for my decision—die by a bullet or take the plunge fifty-stories down. Both were equally unappealing.

“Make a decision girl,” the White Crow said. “Be happy I’m giving you a choice.”

“You expect me to thank you for that?” I asked; bitterness stitched into my words.

“I don’t have time for this,” the White Crow said. “If you don’t make a decision on how you’re going to die, then I’ll make one for you. I’m starting to lean towards senseless and uncontrolled bludgeoning.
”

While the White Crow continued his threats, I saw Shadow sneaking up behind him concealed in a blanket of darkness.

I allowed my eyes to divert away from the White Crow and looked over his left shoulder while I let out a sigh of relief.

The White Crow grinned.

“I see what you’re getting at,” he said, “Sadly you need a better poker face.”

He spun to his left and fired off a quick shot, but was surprised to see that no one was there.

“Wrong side asshole,” Shadow said as he blindsided the White Crow from the opposite direction and drilled him in the shoulder with a two-by-four, causing the assassin to drop his weapon.

The White Crow growled like a wounded bear, taking a step back while clutching his arm.

“Ugh, what the fuck,” he cursed. “That hurt like hell.”

“Nothing compared to this,” Shadow said as he lunged at the White Crow, hands still gripping the large piece of wood.

Despite being wounded, the White Crow’s reflexes were bursts of lightening. He was much faster than his brother, dodging Shadow’s attack and retaliating with a boot to his gut. Shadow dropped to his knees, writhing in pain.

“You fucking coward,” the White Crow spat. “This is what fighting me fairly actually feels like.” He followed up with another kick to Shadow’s ribs. I heard a sickening crunch.

I couldn’t stand here like a useless damsel in distress and watch Shadow get pummeled. I scoured the ground for the closest weapon and discovered a full bucket of primer lying mere inches away. The White Crow continued his assault on Shadow, who struggled to get to this feet but was struck back down to his knees with the White Crow’s heavy fists.

“This is what you deserve for trying to be a snake,” The White Crow continued taunting. “I can do this all fucking-”

Before he could finish his sentence, I took the opportunity to attack him with the bucket, swinging it awkwardly with two hands, and managed to catch him across the side of his head.

“Argh,” he screamed, clutching his head. “Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you people? Stop fighting like cowards.”

I came at him again but had the wind knocked out of me when he countered with an elbow to the soft spot of my stomach. The pain felt like an electric shock, originating from where he had hit me, all the way to my fingertips as I struggled to suck in air.

The White Crow picked up the paint bucket with one hand, raised it over his head, threatening to bring it down on my skull.

Shadow snuck up from behind, a hammer in one hand, and grabbed the White Crow’s wrist—still clinging onto the bucket—with the other. He pulled the bastard’s arm as far back as he could and delivered a punishing blow to the assassin’s elbow with the hammer.

The White Crow howled in pain as Shadow crushed the bones in his arm.

“You murdered my friend,” Shadow said as he continued his assault, driving the hammer into the White Crow’s kneecap, smashing it to oblivion.

The killer’s howls intensified as he took a few staggered steps back. Shadow continued the attack, making contact with every swing. The White Crow shielded his arms while backing away in retreat. The two were drawing closer to the edge.

“Shadow, watch out,” I cried out. My warnings were ignored. Shadow was too focused on obliterating the White Crow to pay any attention to me.

One of Shadow’s blows landed on the White Crow’s head and I thought for sure that was the deathblow.

Astonishingly, the White Crow failed to stay down and instead—with a surge of superhuman adrenaline—charged into Shadow like an angry bull. Shadow tried to get out of the way but wasn’t quick enough as the White Crow barreled into him, sending them both flying over the edge.

“Shadow!” I screamed, rushing towards the spot where they had both fallen over. I couldn’t stand the thought of him dying on me. I needed Shadow in my life. He was all I had left in this world and I loved him.

He was clinging onto a flimsy piece of scaffolding gutting out of the side of the building. The White Crow was gone, reduced to a smear on the concrete. I hoped he was with his brother, dancing with the devil in hell.

From the creaking of the scaffolding, it wouldn’t be long before it all went tumbling down.

I lay flat on my belly, just at the edge, and reached out to Shadow. He extended one hand upwards but we were still inches apart.

I willed my body to stretch further, hoping to defy all physical odds written by the universe. The tips of my fingers touched his and for a moment, I thought I could do it. I thought I could save Shadow’s life.

One of the bolts securing the scaffolding to the side of the building came undone under the stress of Shadow’s weight. I was devastated as Shadow sank a few inches further away from me.

He drew his hand back.

“What are you doing?” I cried. “Don’t give up.”

He shook his head and smiled at me sadly.

“I’d never hurt you Aria,” Shadow said. “Never in a million years.”

He was referring to the moment when he had the knife in his hands and I thought I was a goner. Had Sinister waited for the full three seconds, would I still be alive?

A loud creek came from the scaffolding. Any second, it was ready to give.

“Shadow, please,” I said, reaching out to him again.

“Just tell me you love me,” he said. “That’s all I need from you.” His face was red from strain, his voice hoarse.

“I love you,” I said without hesitation.

I saw peace on Shadow’s face as he closed his eyes, accepting that this was the end. If he was going to die, I wanted to join him.

“I love you too Shadow,” came a third voice. The sight of Lincoln lying down next to me, reaching out for Shadow made my heart sing. “Now come on, hold my hand damn it.”

A smile crept across Shadow’s face as he nodded and extended his hand upwards. I was relieved to see that he was able to grab Lincoln’s hand, and just in time too. A split-second after Shadow released his grip on the loose scaffolding, it came crashing down, plummeting to the ground below.

“And to think, I used to get teased for my gorilla-long arms,” Lincoln said. He clenched his teeth and using both hands, pulled Shadow up and back onto solid ground.

Shadow collapsed onto his back and sucked in a heavy breath of air.

“Remind me to fire the construction crew for installing such shitty scaffolding,” he said. “No more cash deals, ever again.”

I dove on top of Shadow and pelted him with a hundred butterfly kisses.

“Maybe you two should wait until the hotel is finished and then get a room,” Lincoln said, wiping sweat off his brow. The right side of his face was swollen and his lip was fat and bloodied.

“You look like shit,” Shadow said.

“My abilities to stay beautiful seemed to have deteriorated with each subsequent attempt on my life,” Lincoln replied.

Above, the sounds of the helicopter blades were growing louder. The chopper was fast approaching.

“The helicopter,” I said, pointing out the obvious.

“Well ahead of you,” Lincoln acknowledged as they both rose to their feet and bolted for the stairwell that led back to the helipad.

“Sinister’s mine,” Shadow said.

“Leave a piece for me,” Lincoln added. “I want the softest and fleshiest piece.”

By the time we reached the helipad, the chopper was already on the ground and Sinister was entering into it.

“No you don’t,” Shadow said as he began sprinting for the chopper, leaping over the unconscious bodies of the two guards that Lincoln had dispatched.

Shadow was fast, but when it came down to man versus machine, the latter always won. By the time Shadow reached the helicopter, it was already fifteen feet up in the air.

“This isn’t over,” Shadow cried out to him.

“Of course not,” Sinister shouted over the noise of the spinning blades. “This has been too much fun. I’m glad you survive
d all of this Shadow, I really am. You may not believe me, but I still do love you…brother.”

And then the chopper was gone. Sinister’s final words reverberated in my ears.

Brother?

Shadow stood on the helipad, his eyes staring into the distance at the chopper which had become a speck in the sky.

“It’s not her,” Lincoln said, his voice pulling Shadow’s attention from the city skyline back down to us. “Thank God, it’s not her.”

“What?” Shadow asked.

“It’s not Calisto,” Lincoln repeated, cradling the dead woman in his arms, knife still buried in her heart.

I had a look for myself. He was right. From afar it was easy to be fooled.

With a new hairdo and a gag over her mouth, it was easy to transform Bria into a Calisto look-alike.

The poor girl didn’t deserve to die like this, despite her antagonizing me. Bria wasn’t a bad person, just confused and misunderstood; and now she was gone.

Lincoln laid her body back on the ground and then stood up. In his hands was an electronic tablet.

“I found this next to the body,” Lincoln said.

Shadow’s eyes narrowed when he saw the tablet. He took it from Lincoln’s hands, tapped on the screen and saw that it was loaded with a video.

The screen image was of Sinister, sitting on what looked to be a throne.

Before even watching the video, I already knew that Sinister’s message was not going to be good.

Shadow held the tablet out for everyone to see and hit the play button. I held my breath and listened to the bastard’s words, which I knew would change us all forever.

#