Julia
shook her head.
“She
didn’t want you when your mother died.”
“What’s
her name?” It was a stupid question, but her mouth just spit it out.
“
Sarah Jane
,” he said, his lip curled
like the name disgusted him. “
Frazier
is her surname.”
Sara
Jane. Frazier. Tears streaked down Julia’s cheeks as pain wrapped its arms
around her and squeezed.
“W-w-would
she get in trouble?” she choked, and Methuselah stared at her. “I mean…was
there a reason…that she wanted to…not to have a…baby?”
“She
had the gift of Sight. No, she didn’t know she was my descendant, but she knew
she would die young. She did not want to leave a child.”
“H-how
did she die?” Julia’s chest was pumping up and down, and she could hear herself
sucking air in too hard. Feel the room spinning. But she just couldn’t stop.
Her vision was waving in and out, and she knew, she just knew, the next thing
he told her was going to be horrible.
“I
killed her, Julia.” Methuselah held out his hand, and Julia was compelled to
take it. His fingers closed around hers, and she felt warmth between her legs.
Her knees gave way and she sank down, accidentally tugging against Methuselah’s
hand before he snatched it away. He looked down at her, curling his perfect
lips.
When
she felt the floor beneath her, his face went from disgusted to furious, and he
slapped her hard across the cheek.
“You
are nothing.”
Julia
reached a weak hand up to cover her throbbing face, weeping as she realized she
had…peed herself. She drew her knees to her chest, breathing so hard and fast
she knew she was going to pass out.
Chapter Six
The
ascent from the entrance of the catacombs to the main level of the pyramid took
Nathan almost an hour. It wasn’t like the compound. Here the walls and floor
were made of stone or deeper down, packed dirt, and the halls were lit by
torches that danced as he moved.
He
had to admit, he was glad it took some time to reach the habitable areas, where
the other Chosen were. He needed time, to gather his thoughts and prepare
himself.
He’d
felt…off, since the night the Chosen forces had attacked the rebels' stronghold
in St. Moritz. Part of it was that Adam had initiated the attack without giving
him any direct warning. He’d felt caught off-guard—like one of the deserters.
But
the thing about it that bothered him the most was Julia’s reaction. She was The
One, and he’d been certain that, upon hearing the truth, she would be swayed to
fulfill her role. Instead she’d balked at him. She’d acted as if he was
deranged. Misguided.
It
got under his skin.
The
others felt the same way. Carlin did not surprise him. She had never pretended
to believe in even her own Candidacy. Drew shocked him. He was a Shepherd, and
he had lived among the Chosen almost all his life.
And
Meredith… Her disbelief didn’t surprise him, either. But it did hurt him, more
than even the doubts of The One herself.
He
cursed Dizzy and Adam. If he’d had more time, he might have been able to bring
Julia, Meredith, Drew, and Carlin back to Alexandria without violence. Or at
least with less bloodshed.
Now
he worried the former Candidates would never forgive him—and he was the one who
should be doing the forgiving! They had aided in the abduction of The One!
The
light at the end of the square hall was growing brighter, and the tight feeling
in Nathan’s chest was beginning to loosen. He walked faster, putting more
distance between himself and The Three’s dank, foggy lair.
Soon
he could see the shape of the light: a door. Nathan took a deeper breath,
grateful for what felt like fresh air—even though its freshness was relative.
He stepped into a massive room built of the same ancient stone as the pyramid's
exterior. The walls were covered in streaks of red algae that glowed faintly
half-way to the hundred-foot, vaulted ceiling. It wasn’t the soothing
iridescent glow of the compound’s walls, but it offered some light—enough
compared to the hallways that it always seemed bright when he stepped into the
yawning space.
It
was only half the size of the Virginia common room, and filled with old wooden
tables and chairs; the Chosen that milled about seemed mostly listless. Nathan
understood how they felt. For them, for
him
,
the compound had been a home, a place protected and secure—until the day he and
the other Shepherds had captured the Hunter Cayuzul and he’d introduced Julia
into the fold. From that point on, nothing had been right.
And
yet, that defied all logic.
Julia
was The One, and Nathan had been the one to bring her home to the compound.
Once there, he’d done exactly what a Shepherd should: He’d guided her. Like
he’d tried to guide all the Candidates.
Some
of the Chosen stirred at his passing now, and he nodded his way to the center
of the common area. He smiled reassuringly, hiding the gnawing ache in his
chest. Every thought of The One, the Candidates, the compound, of anything in
his life, led him back to Meredith.
He’d
spent an agonizing three days after the attack believing she was dead. He’d
finally acknowledged his feelings for her, and when he’d found out she was
alive it had been like
he
had come
back to life.
But
now she felt like he had betrayed her, and he didn’t know how he could convince
her otherwise. She wouldn’t believe anything he said.
Nathan
heard a roar of noise ahead, near the mouth of the hall that was his
destination, and he walked faster. He was supposed to meet Meredith, Drew,
Carlin and the Shepherd who was guarding them off the plane—he glanced at his
watch—now.
He
broke into a sprint. There had been rumblings since the attack on the compound,
disloyal talk. Blasphemy against The Three. Questioning of their power.
There
was blasphemy in the ranks, as well as wild rumors, some that went so far as to
blame the attack on Julia. Nathan did his best to quell the absurd talk, but
the Chosen were disheartened. Angry. And, unlike usual, The Three had given him
very little guidance. Their minds, he knew, were elsewhere.
A
roar rose over the pounding of Nathan's footfall. It sounded like some kind of
fight had broken out. He growled his frustration with his Shepherds. More so
than the older, more bureaucratic Bishops, Shepherds were to lead other Chosen
by example. They were also supposed to maintain order and discipline, something
severely lacking in the last two weeks.
Someone
screamed, and Nathan ran harder. To his vigilant ears, it sounded like
Meredith. His whole body burned, and he imagined what he would do to the person
that made her scream.
This
was wrong. So wrong. At the compound, revolt had never even seemed like a
possibility, but here…
Somewhere
between Virginia and Alexandria, everything had changed.
Chapter Seven
Andrew
wasn’t impressed with the Alexandria compound. Under other circumstances he
would have enjoyed a trip into a pyramid—a real one with an actual pharaoh, and
maybe even a curse.
However,
this one made him shudder. The mud-packed halls, while no doubt impressive in
The Three's ancient times, were too narrow and dark. The whole place glowed a
dull red due to something on the walls that looked like mold, and it was such
an impossible web to navigate that their guard, a red-haired Shepherd named
Clarissa, had needed to consult her map twice.
His
opinion of the common room was much the same when Clarissa led him, Carlin, and
Meredith into it. It was large, but not nearly so big or so inviting as the old
common room where he’d had some genuine childhood fun.
He
felt a brief pang of nostalgia, and then he noticed the Chosen in the room.
There were maybe two dozen on their end, and they were staring at Meredith,
Carlin, Clarissa, and him with anger.
Andrew
spied Dizzy, near the center of the crowd. “That’s them,” she said, and he
didn’t need to be Meredith to know that the vibe in the room got a whole lot
darker.
She
did confirm it, though. “This isn’t good.”
The
crowd stirred, converging as people left conversations or chairs and began
moving toward the four of them.
Is this never going to end?
Though
his hands remained bound, Andrew stepped in front of Meredith and Carlin, who
had, thank God, already been healed. He glared at Clarissa. “What’s going on
here?”
She
looked surprised, and a little uncertain. “Back to your business,” she cried at
the crowd.
They
kept coming, and soon they were chanting: “Traitors. Traitors. Traitors.”
Someone
yelled, “You led The One astray!”
A
fat man nodded. “Now we'll never reach Heaven!”
Carlin
stuck up her hands and waved at the crowd, as if to say, yeah, suck it. Which
was probably a bad idea, as they came closer. Andrew glanced at the hallway behind
them, fervently wishing he could untie his hands, and at that moment, Carlin
started floating.
“Car,
what the hell—”
Someone
shot her with blue lightning, and she fell to the ground. After that,
everything exploded. The crowd rushed them, and the girls and Drew were lost in
a storm of angry faces and flying fists. Blue fire was everywhere, and it
wasn't long before the mob started fighting itself.
Clarissa
tried to yank them back down the hall, but someone was blocking her. Simon, a
short, broad Shepherd three years Andrew’s senior. His power was to the body
what Dizzy’s was to the mind, and when he touched Clarissa, she crumbled to the
ground in a twitching pile.
“Simon!
What the hell!”
He
grabbed Andrew’s shoulders and squeezed hard. He was very strong, which Andrew
had forgotten.
“I
can’t believe you betrayed us,” Simon said, his voice shaking. “A fellow
Shepherd.” He backhanded Andrew, and Andrew saw black spots.
When
Andrew came to, he was on the ground, and his left ankle was being stamped by an
elderly Chosen woman with curly white hair. “Tell me about the Nephilim!” she
raged as she kicked him. “Was that attack staged? My daughter died!”
Andrew
rolled, trying to avoid her feet as the crowd pressed in around him. He
couldn’t see Meredith or Carlin, and when he tried to call for them, someone
kicked him in the face.
“You
deserve to die!” the dark-haired assailant screamed, and for a terrifying
moment Andrew really believed that was what was going to happen. He had a
moment to reflect on his life, wasted in pursuit of the end of the world.
Then
out of nowhere, Nathan was there.
“STAND
DOWN!”
Andrew
was shocked by the power of his voice. Immediately the crowd quieted. No one
froze, per se, but they all stopped what they were doing and turned to the
source of the command. Andrew picked himself up and spied Nathan, eyes flaring
as he strode to a tall man with a pinched nose and dusty blond hair. Nathan
backhanded the man, who fell to the ground, and the spell seemed to break.
Angry
voices rose as Nathan bent over to pick up Meredith. “REMAIN CALM,” he
commanded as he wrapped an arm around her.
Andrew
looked for Dizzy, but she was long gone.
“Drew,”
Carlin whispered beside him.
With
her brown curls matted and her makeup smeared, she looked uncharacteristically
disheveled—so did he. “Come on,” he said, nodding toward Nathan. She was
reluctant, and he didn’t blame her. “Better than the alternative,” he said,
under his breath, and she nodded.
Nathan
commanded Clarissa to cut their binds, and they followed him into another hall,
walking quickly. He finally led them to a small room with a hole in the floor.
“DOWN,”
he commanded, and Andrew didn’t even try to resist. He dropped himself inside a
very small tunnel, barely wide enough for Nathan's and his shoulders. Carlin
dropped down behind him, her hand finding his as Nathan led them to a bunch of
rooms.
“Prison
cells,” Carlin cried.
“For
your protection,” Nathan insisted.
“No
way,” Andrew said.
But
they could hear the cries of the angry Chosen echoing nearby.
“You
can get out soon, I promise.”
“Why
would we trust you, Nathan?” Meredith’s voice was empty.
“I’m
trying to keep you safe.”
“That
sounds like the same thing you always say.”
“Where
is Julia?” Carlin demanded.
“She’s
meeting with The Three,” he said almost proudly. “She’s going to be fine.”
“I’m
not staying here,” Meredith said.
“Yes
you are.”
Nathan
shoved her into one of the small, mud rooms and she looked mad enough to kill.
Andrew lifted his arms, prepared to fight Nathan if necessary, but Nathan
opened his mouth, and Andrew's will was gone.
“GO
INTO THE CELL, ANDREW. KEEP MEREDITH SAFE.” Andrew had the brief thought that
Nathan had never turned his gift toward him in the past. Then he was following
Meredith inside.
“Fuck
you, Nathan.” Carlin slapped him in the jaw, and Nathan caught her arm, pushing
her inside.
“I'm
trying to help you, too, Carlin.”
He
slammed the iron door shut and glared through the bars. “Stay put. I’ll be back
soon.”
Andrew
listened to the pounding of the other Shepherd's footsteps until Meredith
turned away. His gaze went with her; he watched as she put her hands over her
face, breathing deeply to keep from crying. He felt a pang of sympathy for her,
and anger at their situation.
To
Carlin, he said, “We need to find a way out of here.”