Suture (The Bleeding Worlds) (14 page)

Jason's whip cracked across her back. No glancing blow this time, she bore the full brunt of its lash and crumpled beneath the punishing barbs tearing the fabric from her back and leaving trails of blood behind. The hatchets shattered into nothingness as she fell.

Anunnaki.

"Come on, Gwynn," Jason urged.

Gwynn moved. He hadn't realized he'd stood gawking at the girl's fallen form. She was human, maybe even roughly their age. No one he'd ever fought had still appeared human. He hadn't realized how he'd hidden behind that. Only Elaios had appeared human when he'd taken her hand. But hadn't that been to defend Fuyuko? Hadn't she become some mad, fiery angel moments after? Mr. Davis, the Taints in the hospital, they'd all changed before he'd drawn his blade on them. But they'd all been human before, hadn't they? Adrenaline urged him onward, even as his heart began to doubt.

"Head in the game," Jason said, sensing his hesitation. "Since they seem intent on killing us, I figure knocking them out is being kind."

It wasn't what
Jason
had done, it was what
he
had almost done. Xanthe wasn't merciful. At least, not in any way he'd ever wielded it. Every time the sword came forth in battle, it drew blood. If the girl had been a few feet further away at the moment Gwynn turned, Xanthe would've skewered her and revelled in the taste of her blood. Gwynn heard its desires singing in his mind, feel the tingles of joy as it readied itself for the next opponent. In the beginning, Xanthe's influence was Gwynn's salvation. It filled him with knowledge, guided his muscles as though they'd received years of training in sword combat. But he'd spent eight months training every day for combat, lessening his dependance on the foreign intelligence living within the sword. He'd started questioning it. He could hear the song of its desires and it seemed to be dissonant with his own.

They bounded forward, moving higher into the sky with the increasing heights of the buildings. Jason landed on one and held his hand up to indicate Gwynn should stop. Jason moved to an access door and touched the door knob with his hand. Gwynn bounced on the balls of his feet. He felt the energies of their pursuers coming closer. Were those all of them, or merely decoys, masking the presence of nearer assailants?

"Come on," Jason said, opening the door. "Drop your connection to the Veil."

"What?"

"Just do it. If we're able to sense them, they're probably doing the same to us. Cut it off."

In his mind, Gwynn envisioned a door slamming shut. Xanthe evaporated like a morning haze and sudden aches flooded his muscles without the Veil's energies to sustain them.

"Move," Jason said, running down the stairs.

They descended two flights and burst through a door labelled 'Third Floor.'

Jason passed two doors and hammered on the third he encountered. When a minute passed with no response, he knelt down and produced a multi-tool knife, popped a tool out of it, and went to work on the door lock. Several seconds passed before the sound of metal sliding against metal rewarded his efforts.

Jason opened the door and ushered Gwynn inside.

"I must have missed the break-and-entering part of training," Gwynn said.

"Part of Paltar's unofficial curriculum. I'll show it to you sometime."

"Sweet trick with the door upstairs too."

Jason nodded. "Yeah, well, Scripts, right? We're good at opening and closing things."

"That goes for locks too?"

"Sure," Jason replied. "But I didn't want them tracing our connection to the Veil down here. It's why I did that door old school."

"I'm starting to feel like I've missed all the fun stuff."

Jason moved quickly through the apartment, making sure the occupants hadn't been in the shower or bathroom. Certain they were alone, he motioned for Gwynn to get low to the floor near a set of windows.

"They shouldn't see us here, but if they come through the door, we've got the windows as another way out. Those arrows…"

"Just like Caelum," Gwynn said. "It's why I knew to stop them, I recognized the sensation of one of those things flying at me."

Jason laughed. "I didn't know you'd had the pleasure."

"Are you kidding? He did the whole apple on my head thing. They said it was like an unofficial initiation."

"You should've known that was crap when they insisted on doing it when I wasn't around."

Gwynn nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."

Jason looked out the window, his eyes hardening. "Do you think… Maybe we're fighting this world's version of Suture?"

Gwynn's eyes widened. "You might be right. It would make more sense. Pridament said the Fallen never work in large teams, usually just one overseer and the grunts who hold the tears open. These guys, they're a team, no doubt. Take the whole trick of making big draws on the Veil further away so we wouldn't catch the ones closest to us. It's smart."

"It has me worried. They probably think we're Fallen and we're somehow causing what's wrong with this town."

"Wouldn't they have their own Woten?" Gwynn asked. "Wouldn't he know this isn't the way Fallen work? I mean, ours did."

"Ours also said he got that theory from Fuyuko's dad. Maybe Shinji Takeda doesn't work for Suture in this world. Besides, there's no guarantee there's a Woten. Someone else could've assembled this team. Who knows what all is different in this world."

They resumed silence, trying to listen for any noises in the hall or outside. Having become accustomed to the heightened senses of the Veil, Gwynn felt halfway blind without them. Where were they? If they'd been able to track Gwynn and Jason through their use of the Veil, they'd know the trail went dead at this building. How would their enemy think? Would they assume the two of them had fled through the building and back down to street level? Maybe they were conducting a room by room search. Every muscle in Gwynn's body ached from how tight they were wound.

Jason pulled his cell from his pocket. He flipped a switch to put it into silent mode, and began dialling.

"Why didn't we think of that sooner?" Gwynn felt disgusted with himself. What a bonehead move to forget he had a cell phone.

Jason shook his head. "Don't sweat it. We were too busy not getting killed." A few moments passed. "Doesn't matter anyway, I'm not getting through. I don't know if it's cause our ad hoc network is useless, or if we're being jammed."

"Doesn't it seem odd these guys seem prepared for everything?"

"What are you saying?"

"First, they knew we were here and where we could be found. Second, they wait until exactly the moment we're without wheels and caught out in the open. Third, they potentially are jamming both our distress signals and our cells." Gwynn used his fingers to illustrate the growing number of non-coincidences.

"So you're suggesting an inside job? Someone on our side who gave them intel?"

Gwynn shrugged. "I don't know. It just seems like they know everything they needed to make it difficult. I mean, even the way they tricked us by having the ones further away pull heavily on the Veil so we wouldn't catch the closer ones until they were on top of us. At first I thought they were amateurs and had no idea they were dealing with two Scripts who could sense the Veil better. But they were counting on that. They used it against us."

"You do realize," Jason said, "the most likely culprit is the girl who left us helpless with no wheels? Like you said, how'd they know we would be hoofing it? How'd they know?"

"They could've been watching us. Remember, I felt it all day."

"Or they were just waiting until your
friend
," he made the word sound dirty, "made her move and left us stranded. Maybe that was the signal for them to move."

Gwynn hated the thought he'd been so easily duped. She'd seemed so natural, so kind. Maybe he'd allowed himself to be suckered because she looked like Adrastia and he'd been feeling increasingly isolated. Sure, who better to be friends with than a fellow outcast? He'd walked right into the whole trap.

"So what's our next move?" Gwynn asked.

"I figure we stay here until we hear traffic noise outside. I'm guessing they somehow cut off traffic to this area. If they let it start running again, it means they've probably given up. When that happens, we just walk slowly downstairs and keep ourselves cut off until we hit the city limits. Then we grab as much energy as we can take and run like hell."

Gwynn let himself fall back onto the carpeted floor. "You realize there's one other bit of bad news if all that is true?"

"What's that?"

"It means they know exactly who we are—that we're not Fallen. Which means…"

"They're actually trying to kill us. There won't be any talking or hesitation if they catch us."

Gwynn let go of a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding while Jason spoke. The funny thing was, when the thought first occurred to him, he'd been frightened. Hearing it said aloud, put out to the universe, gave him a sense of peace. There were really only two outcomes; they escaped and lived, or they died. Simplicity, even brutal, ugly, simplicity, felt calming.

They remained silent, their separate minds trying to process everything. It seemed futile to speak further—everything was just conjecture. Still, he thought about the note Alice had left him.
The next time we see each other, I'll explain everything.
Would she have written that if she'd seen to it there would never be a next time? He pressed his palms against his eyes.

How could I have been so stupid?

An electric humming drifted up from the street below. Gwynn's stomach jumped and he swallowed back sick. Looking to Jason, he guessed he'd had a similar reaction.

Jason edged over to the window and raised himself enough to peer down to the street.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit."

"What is it?" Gwynn asked.

"You're right, they came ready for anything. They've set up a Prometheus Field around the building. We're powerless."

Gwynn reached for Xanthe, but received nothing.

"But they're powerless too, right?"

Jason leaned against the wall. "With how well they've planned this out, do you really think they're just going to walk in here unarmed? I think we need to face facts, we're probably not getting out of this."

"What about the roof? If we can make it across to another building, we'll be clear of the field."

"Maybe. But I doubt they've left it unguarded. Besides, without our powers, it's likely we'll end up breaking something. Or worse."

Gwynn crawled toward the kitchen, keeping out of sight of the windows. Once inside, he stood, being shielded from the windows by the kitchen walls, and started rummaging through the drawers.

Jason joined him.

"What are you looking for?"

"Geezus, man, it's a kitchen. I'm looking for knives, heavy pots, anything to club or stab with."

Jason smiled. "Not going to take this lying down, are you?"

Gwynn shot Jason a cutting glance. "Are you?"

Jason held up his hands as though to defend against the invisible blades. "No, no. I'm just impressed. If I was on my second field mission and this happened, I'd probably be curled into a ball on the bathroom floor."

"Well, thank God this isn't your second field mission. I've gone through too much crap to just lie down and die without a fight."

Gwynn opened an upper cabinet and was rewarded with a butcher block full of lethal looking knives.

"Jackpot."

They each took two.

"We should get out of here," Jason said. "No powers means we can't go jumping out the window. There's no way out other than that door. Even if we get caught in the hall, at least we have other places to go."

They crept toward the front door. Jason placed his ear against it. Satisfied he couldn't hear anything, he twisted the knob.

A popping sound, like a batting machine lobbing a ball at a batter, came from the other side. Before either of them could react, the door exploded in a hail of splinters.

Both were flung backward, Jason slamming into the corner where the hall branched away, Gwynn flying into the living room they had huddled in just moments before.

Gwynn's ears rang, his chest felt heavy, and what little vision wasn't obscured by dark spots was blurry. He could make out an explosion of movement and sound. People shouting orders, rushing toward him.

It seemed absurd to die now. Odd how eight months ago, he was ready to just lie down and let it end—everything seemed so hopeless and too far gone. But he'd done the impossible. He'd saved the world. That alone meant anything was possible. Or maybe it just meant he'd served his purpose and now Fate was finished with him.

Hands clawed at his shoulders, lifting his head up. He told his muscles to move, to struggle, but they refused to obey.

Cold steel clamped around his neck and wrists.

"The shackles are in place," someone said.

Gwynn rolled his head to look toward Jason. One of the people in the room delivered a savage kick to his midsection. Even from here, Gwynn could see the shredded fabric of her shirt and the red welts on her back.

"We have the target contained," a voice close to Gwynn said.

"Good. Keep him there. I'm coming up," a tinny voice replied, most likely from a radio.

"We were only instructed to get that one, right?" the girl with the shredded shirt said.

"Those were our orders."

An evil smile curled her lips. "So no one will care if I kill this one?"

Only one person was guaranteed to not be hurt by Brandt—Caelum. For this reason, Njord put Caelum between the door and the mountainous boy's temper.

"This is bullshit," Brandt raged. "Jason is out there, and we should be looking for him."

"Njord knows." Caelum's voice remained calm, soothing—perhaps even channeling some of his abilities. "He's already said we'll go looking, but we should wait to see if everyone checks in. Marie is overdue as well."

"What about you?" Brandt glared at Alice. "Did Gwynn decide he wasn't into you so you decided to ditch them?"

Njord wouldn't have blamed Alice for slapping Brandt. To her credit, she remained calm.