5 Onslaught (6 page)

7

I cringe
at the way Mira jumps away from my reclined body. It makes us look all the more
guilty. But then I see the knife reappear in Mira’s hand and she’s got it
pointed at Kainda. “Get behind me, Sol.”

She
sees Kainda as a threat, like she did me before her memory was restored.
Thankfully, her offer to protect me is probably the best thing she could have
done.

I
look up at Kainda, and she at me. We maintain our straight faces for just a
moment, but then break out laughing. Our voices roll through the cavern,
echoing back to us.
It’s
ten seconds before either of
us can control ourselves, but when we finally do, and I look at Mira again, she
just looks annoyed.

I
sit up and hold up my hands, much like I did when Mira had the knife to my
throat. “
It’s
okay, Mira, she’s with me.”

“I’m
with
you?” Kainda says, her tone
revealing that she has not forgotten about the shower of kisses.

I
get to my feet, clear my throat and motion to Kainda. “Mira, this is Kainda.” I
shift my arms toward Mira. “Kainda, meet Mira.” I turn back to Kainda. “You
know who she is and what she is to me.”
Back to Mira.
“Mira, Kainda and I are
,
you know...together.”

She
looks at me, not understanding, but then her eyes go wide and she smiles. “Ohh,
she’s your
girlfriend
.”

I
start to nod, but then Kainda says, “I still do not know the meaning of this
word.
Girlfriend.
I do not like it. It sounds weak.”
She steps closer, into the light cast by a collection of blue stones. Her
beautiful face, strong body and scant hunter’s garb are revealed. “I am his
passion.”

Kainda
speaks earnestly, naïve to the meaning the word might convey to an outsider.

Mira
doesn’t miss it. She gives a lopsided grin and says, “I bet you are.” She
lowers the knife and ribs me with her elbow, “Not bad, Schwartz.”

“Schwartz?”
Kainda says the name slowly. She’s never heard the nickname before. And I have
no intention of explaining it now, not just because it embarrasses me, but
because I’d have to explain the
Spaceballs
movie to someone who has never even seen a television. Winning the war against
the Nephilim might be a simpler task.

“Never
mind that,” I say. “What we need—”

“Wait,”
Mira says. “I want a few answers, the first of which is, what—exactly—am I to
you?”

“Huh?”

“You
might have a perfect memory,” Mira says, “But mine is pretty good, too. You
said, ‘you know who she is and what she is to me.’ So I would like to know
who
I am and
what
I am to you.” She crosses her arms.
“If you
don’t mind.”

This
could take a while, but we’re safe here and I get the feeling that I’m going to
have to spill the beans to fully gain Mira’s trust. I might be Sol to her, but
she is no doubt rattled by her recent experiences. I rub my hand through my
hair, trying to think of the best way to start. Do I begin with my kidnapping
and do the chronological thing? Do I jump to recent events? I slap the side of
my face a few times, lost in thought.

Kainda
makes up my mind for me. She answers in her blunt way, delivering the truth
like a missile. “You’re Hope.”

Mira
scrunches up her face. “Actually, I’m Mira.”

I
sigh. “That’s not what she meant.”

“Then
what did she mean?”

“You’re...”
I wander away, crossing my arms as I remember those years spent underground, in
hiding, with nothing but a Polaroid photo of Mira and me for company. “You’re
my
hope.”

She
looks even more flabbergasted when I turn around. “You might want to sit
down,
this is going to take a while.”

I
start at the beginning.
My birth.
I tell her about her
mother and the words she spoke to me at my birth, “You are a precious boy.” I
do my best to summarize our trip, my kidnapping, breaking and transformation
into Ull. I’m not sure she’s buying it all, but there are tears in her eyes.
Even Kainda looks sullen and I realize she hasn’t heard me tell the whole
story, starting from my birth and moving forward.

When
I get to the final test I faced as Ull and reveal that I was the person who
took her mother all those years ago, the tears disappear. But when I quickly
relate what happened next, how her mother saved me and how we’ve been allied
since, the tears return.

“You
were just a kid,” she says, after I tell how I swallowed the physical body of
Nephil, escaped from Asgard and killed the Nephilim, Ull, son of Thor—my
master. “That you survived at all is a miracle.”

I’ve
always been too busy feeling guilty about my failures to consider that most
people would have died. I was strong without ever knowing it. But part of that
strength came from the memory of the woman now sitting across from me.

I
relate the rest of the story, trying to focus on major events, but I find
myself talking for almost an hour. By the time I’m done, she’s heard it all.
The photo.
Tartarus.
The Titans.
Cronus.
Hades.
Kainda, Em, Luca and Xin.
Everything.
Including the angel’s proclamation about faith,
passion, focus and hope, and my subsequent revelation that those qualities
were, in fact, people—Em, Kainda, Kat and now, Mira.

To
finish things off, I retell the story of her rescue and how we ended up in a
cavern several hundred feet below ground.

After
hearing all of this, most of which I fully admit is ridiculous to say the
least, her response is to lean back on her hands and says, “Huh,” like I just
told her the Red Sox traded Wade Boggs.

I
assume she’s just trying to digest everything I’ve told her, or maybe trying to
figure out if I’m nuts and whether or not she should make a run for it. After
several minutes of silence she says, “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You
were kidnapped, turned into a hunter—” she points at Kainda, “by her father,
Ninnis, took my mother, caused the crustal displacement event that killed
billions, all because the Nephilim want you to be the vessel for the spirit of
Nephil, aka Ophion, their leader. And now you’re leading a group of rebel
hunters, the U.S. military and a pack of Crylos against them in an attempt to
save humanity as we know it. Oh, and you have powers because you’re
supernaturally bonded to the continent. That about sum it up?”

I
look at Kainda, then back to Mira. “Yeah, actually, I think you’ve got a handle
on the situation. But...you’re okay with it? You believe it? All of it?”

“I’ve
seen the Nephilim with my own eyes. And the dinosaurs, though I have a hard
time believing they’ve turned nice, and I even kind of remember your seal
buddies saving me. But...” She shakes her head. “My father sees patterns. He’s
grown blunter about it since you knew him.
Calls it the
fingerprint of God.
I normally think he’s nuts, but everything you’re
saying... I don’t see any other way around it, especially given the fact that
I’m here at all.”

“Why’s
that?” I ask.

“When
the crust shifted, I was at home.”

“In
Portsmouth,” I say.

She
nods. “I watched as the water slipped out of the bay.

I
cringe inwardly, knowing what will happen next.

“And
I watched it return. The wall of water slid through the city. It killed
everyone, including my friends. And then, it rolled up the hill.”

“Prospect
Hill,” I say.
“Two hundred feet tall.”

“The
water rose to the foundation of my house. It took my neighbors, and nearly took
me. I was knocked unconscious, but I survived. And when I woke up, the world
was frozen. The house was no longer at the top of the
hill,
it was the only building still standing on a plain of ice that stretched to the
horizon. I survived in the basement for months before heading south, where
Wright, Kat and Cruz found me in a church. The point is
,
I was the only survivor in New Hampshire.
The only survivor.
And somehow I ended up here, with you, and am now told that I’m one of four
women you need to save the world. What are the odds of that happening by
chance?”

“Probably
zero,” I say. It’s something I’ve had to come to terms with, too.

“It’s
crazy.
Borderline stupid.
Hell, I spent the last few
weeks arguing against the idea with my father. But now, after everything I’ve
seen, and what you’ve told me, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be here.
Just like you are.”
She looks at Kainda. “And you are.” She
shrugs. “I don’t know about you two, but
that
is what gives me hope.”

Kainda
chuckles and says, “Adoel was right about this one.”

I
smile so wide it hurts.

Hope
has arrived.

8

Now that
the three of us are a little better acquainted, Kainda lets her guard down a
bit. She had been pacing during the retelling of my story, arms crossed and
brow furrowed, but she looks more at ease now, as relaxed as she allows herself
to get while in hostile territory, at least. She sits on the cavern floor next
to me, unclipping her battle hammer and laying it beside her.

I’m
sure she still feels threatened by Mira, so I put my hand atop hers and lace
our fingers together. Mira sees the gesture and frowns.

The
part of me that is an average young man wonders if Mira is actually interested
in me still, after all these years.
Things
like that happen
, I think. The idea makes me nervous and uncomfortable, and
I’m a little surprised that I hope that is not the case. Without meaning to,
Mira became a central figure in my life, but the part of me that bumped feet
with her, clung to that photo and checked off a box in the note she left behind
has grown up.

“I
was married,” she says, and all of my worry melts away.

“Mirabelle
Whitney,” I say.

“Did
my father tell you?” she asks.

“Remember
when you took the boat down the river?” I ask.
“From the
citadel?
Before you killed Enki?”

She
nods.

“We
were in the trees.
On our way to help.
You passed just
beneath us and
I
overhead someone call you Whitney.
Just put two and two together. Is he...”

“Alive?”
she finishes for me. “No. But don’t worry, he wasn’t, you know...it wasn’t the
crustal displacement. He was shot, by a robber who wanted my watch. Just over a
year ago, actually.
Tried to defend me.
It was a
stupid thing to do.”

“What
was his name?” Kainda asks.

“Sam.”
Mira’s head dips toward the floor. “His name was Sam. Well, Samuel, but I never
called him that.”

I’m
more than a little surprised when Kainda lets go of my hand and puts two of her
fingers under Mira’s chin. The touch is gentle and caring in a way that was
never modeled for Kainda, so this is all her. She lifts Mira’s face so they’re
looking eye-to-eye. “If he died defending you, and you believe you were meant
to be here, then it was not a stupid thing to do. It was brave. That’s how you
should remember him.”

Mira
sniffs back some tears and gives a nod.
“Maybe, except that
he was more like Sol when we first met.
Kind of a
nerd.
Clumsy.
Never really
stood a chance.”
She looks at me. “But that’s not exactly true either,
because look at you now. You’re like Tarzan or Ka-Zar, or something.”

We
smile together.

“Seriously,
do you swing from vines?” she asks with a sniff, signifying the conversation
about her past has come to a close.

I
chuckle and say, “I can sort of fly, remember? Don’t really need the vines. But
I probably could.”

Kainda
is once again lost by the pop culture references and looks resigned to wait for
the shifting conversation to end. But then Mira pulls her back in. “Can I see
that?” Mira points to the hammer lying beside Kainda.

“My hammer?”
Kainda asks. I’m not sure she’s ever
let anyone hold her hammer. Not even me. Not that I’ve asked, but I think I’ve
always assumed it would be a bad idea. They seem kind of attached.

“Yeah,”
Mira says.
“Looks intense.”

“Intense,”
Kainda says slowly, thinking on the word. “It has tasted the blood of human,
Nephilim, crylophosaurs and countless other denizens of the underworld.
‘Intense’ is a good word.” She lifts the hammer as though it weighs little more
than a dead branch, and holds it out to Mira.

As
soon as Mira has the handle, Kainda lets go and the hammer yanks Mira’s arm
down. The stone head clunks against the cave floor. Mira laughs and takes the
handle with two hands, grunting as she lifts it up.
“Holy
damn, woman.
You’re strong.”

Kainda
beams with pride. Maybe
its
that the legendary “girl
in the photo” is giving her such high praise, or that she could clearly take
Mira in a fight, I don’t know, but she’s enjoying the moment.

But
then Mira goes and steers the conversation into a telephone pole. “This looks
like Mjölnir, but smaller.”

Kainda
and I both stare at her, unmoving.

“Mjölnir,”
she says again. “You know, Thor’s hammer. You’d think you two would know this
since...”

I
can see her mind working. She’s figuring it out.

“Since what?”
Kainda
asks,
her face grim.

“You
knew him?” Mira asks. “The real Thor, I mean?”

“Yes,”
Kainda says, taking the hammer back. She stands, clips the weapon in place and
starts walking away.

Mira
looks to me for an explanation.

“Hunters
are trained to use the preferred weapon of their masters,” I say.

It
takes a second to sink in, but then Mira’s eyes go wide with understanding.
“She was Thor’s...but...” She stands quickly, shouting, “Kainda, wait!”

I
know for a fact that chasing Kainda down when she’s just stormed away to be on
her own is a bad idea. I jump up and head off after Mira, but she’s running now
and has a good lead.

Also,
Kainda has stopped walking. She turns and faces Mira with a look that could
make a Nephilim warrior squeal in fright. She’s about to say something, but
Mira beats her to the punch—luckily, not an actual punch.

“You
must have just missed it,” Mira says, oblivious to Kainda’s dark mood. “Back on
the river, when we escaped in the boat, Thor was one of the Nephilim chasing
us.”

“Then
you are truly lucky to be alive,” Kainda says and starts to turn away.

Mira
puts her hand on Kainda’s arm, stopping her.

“Mira,”
I whisper, but before I can finish my warning, Mira finishes her story.

“Kainda,”
she says. “We ran Thor over in the boat. The water washed right over him. He
drowned.”

Kainda
whips around toward Mira. “Drowned?”

Mira
nods. “Thor is dead.”

I
have seen the transformation a hunter goes through upon learning his or her
master has died. It’s like an invisible bond is severed and all the tension and
hatred created by the connection is released. I saw it with Tobias, Em’s foster
father, when he learned that I killed Ull, his former master. But his reaction
is mild in comparison to what Kainda experiences.

Her
hammer slips from her hand and lands with a thud. She falls to her knees beside
it, arms shaking. She looks up at her quaking hands for a moment, clenching
them tightly, probably frightened by the intensity of her own emotions. Then a
sob escapes her lips and I’m by her side, on my knees, wrapping my arms around
her.

Kainda’s
powerful body wilts under my touch. Her muscles go slack. Her back shakes with
each sob and tears, bona fide tears—from
Kainda
—drip
onto the cave floor.

I
have no idea what to say.
Or even if I should say anything.
Kainda is more of an actions-speak-louder-than-words type, so I decide to stay
quiet. My presence and physical contact are enough.

When
I open my eyes and lift my head, I surprised to find Mira kneeling down on
Kainda’s other side, one hand around her lower back, the other holding their
heads together like they’ve known each other their whole lives. I can hear Mira
whispering. She speaks about pain and loss, strength and courage, and about
love. I only catch bits and pieces, but I hear my name in there a few times.

When
Mira pulls away, all of the tension is gone from Kainda’s body. She’s no longer
shaking and her strength has returned. She sits up, takes a breath and looks at
me. Nothing physical has changed, but she looks different somehow. Not exactly
a softness
, but something...wonderful. While the Jericho
shofar freed her from the Nephilim corruption, some part of her must have still
been bound to her former master, maybe not physically or supernaturally, but
mentally. Perhaps she feared facing him someday. Who knows what tortures he
performed on
her.
Or maybe she feared realigning with
him if he commanded it. Whatever the case, that part of her is gone. She is
really and truly free.

She
takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. Then she’s on her feet, clipping her
hammer to her belt and acting as if nothing at all happened.

Message received
, I think,
don’t talk about it.

I’m
pretty sure Mira picked up on the cue, too, because she moves on to a new topic
without missing a beat. “So what’s next? We need to get to the FOB, right?”

“Yeah,”
I say. “Your parents will be happy to see you.”

Mira
gets a concerned look on her face. “Have...you heard about your parents?”

Fear
grips my chest. Adoel didn’t want me to know, one way or the other, about my
parents, but that was right before I was to face Ophion in battle. Maybe it
would be alright to know now? But I already know, don’t I? If what Mira
described about the crustal displacement event is accurate, and I believe it
is, then the coast of Maine where my parents lived wouldn’t have fared any
better than New Hampshire. “They’re dead, right? They must be.”

“Actually,”
Mira says. “I have no idea. But...they moved to New Mexico a few years back.
From what I understand, the climate is pretty nice there now.”

“Oh,”
I say. “That’s...good to know.” Once again, Hope delivers. And that’s where I’m
going to leave it. No more wondering, speculation or worry. If I dwell on the
fate of my parents, I’ll never be able to focus on what needs to be done next. “We
should get going. The FOB is three days from here and we have no idea how long
it will be before—

The
floor shakes beneath my feet.

I
stop and listen.

The
shaking returns, this time with an audible rumble.

“Maybe
this is a dumb question,” Mira says, “But what is that?”

I
look at Kainda and see my fears reflected in her eyes.

I
sigh.

“Footsteps.”