Fall of Hades (18 page)

Taylor wiped both of her eyes. “I once read something about love—that real love isn't that ‘can't live without you, sweaty palm' thing. Real love is caring about someone else more than yourself. I know it sounds stupid, but the only way I could let go of you was because I love you so much.”

“You're right,” I said. I looked deeply into her eyes. “It does sound stupid.”

She punched me on the arm. “I was stupid to think I could live without you.”

“Don't ever leave me again,” I said.

“I won't.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Will you?”

I looked at her for a moment, then replied, “Ditto.”

T
hey say that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, and in our case, with the exception of Jack's tattoos, and Taylor's and my reunion, that's probably true. They also say that Vegas is a desert mirage, and I think that's true too, because by the time we were on the plane, it already seemed like a dream. A dream headed into a nightmare.

We left early in the morning, like five thirty, which meant that none of us got much sleep. In fact, Tessa, Zeus, Tanner, Ian, Nichelle, and Jack never went to sleep at all. They figured that with a twelve-hour flight they could sleep on the way. Pretty smart, really.

When Ostin and I got to the lobby, Gervaso and two white shuttle buses were waiting for us. The all-nighters were already inside and, with the exception of Zeus, were asleep. Zeus had consumed three Red Bulls.

Our plane was a few miles from the hotel at a small executive airport. Scott and Boyd, our pilot and copilot, walked out to meet us. I hadn't seen either of them since we had separated in Douglas. It was good to see them again. Scott went to hug me but jumped back.

“You shocked me.”

Another reminder that I was getting more electric. “Sorry. I can't always help it.”

Boyd just gave me a salute from a safe distance. “Good to see you, Michael.”

We helped the pilots load the plane, and we were in the air in less than a half hour. Everyone was kind of grumpy, but I couldn't blame them. First, we were tired. Second, it's like we were just given the shortest vacation in history and it had already ended. Third, well, we were going to visit Hatch. Not exactly a joyfest.

Taylor fell asleep lying against my shoulder. It was good to be back together.

I couldn't help but wonder if we were doing the right thing or if there was a better way of defeating the Elgen. I couldn't think of a better way. Still, I felt like we were marching into hell. That's actually a line from a song my father used to like. Ironically, maybe appropriately, the song was—is—called “The Impossible Dream.”

It's a really old song, but still a pretty cool one. It's about doing what's right no matter the consequences. I don't remember the whole song, but I do remember watching my father as he listened to it. Sometimes he would get teary-eyed when it played. I remember that. My father wasn't one to cry. He was a tough guy. But like those pictures of muscle-bound dudes holding kittens, he had a soft side. He was a good father. I remember that, too. I know that. I wonder how different my life would have been if he hadn't died.

And the world will be better for this,

That one man, scorned and covered with scars,

Still strove with his last ounce of courage . . .

I suppose I was living out my father's impossible dream.

The truth was, my heart hurt. Something told me that I wasn't going to come back from this trip. That's the main reason why I couldn't let Taylor read my thoughts, and why I finally learned how to stop her from reading my mind. It's a kind of pulse I focus around my temples, like jamming a radio signal. Still, it takes effort and concentration, and I was just too tired to worry about that kind of crap right then. I had too many other things to occupy my mind. Way too many things.

*  *  *

Lately I've been wondering where Wade is—you know, the whole death thing. Life after life. Where do we go after we die?

Or is this it and when we're done, we're done? I don't know. It's possible that Wade and my father are hanging out right now, watching us. Cheering us on. Maybe. It's weird to think about that. But it's possible. I guess one day everyone finds out what death is about.

*  *  *

The way things were looking, I might be finding out sooner than I hoped.

O
ur plane stopped in Tokyo on our way to Taiwan. Tanner and Tessa tried to talk Gervaso into letting us stay for a few hours to get some decent sushi. Their favorite restaurant sends sushi around on a conveyor belt. It sounded kind of fun, but Gervaso wasn't going for it. He said we had a strict schedule to keep and we needed to be ready for Welch.

Gervaso said, “It's like this: imagine a group of hunters on horseback with dogs chasing a fox. We're going to ride in and scoop up the fox. Best we're not eating sushi in Tokyo when the dogs tree it.”

Pretty good story,
I thought.

*  *  *

The sun was setting as we landed in Taiwan. It wasn't the same place we'd landed before. This time we were north in Taipei. As we got off the plane, we saw a familiar face.

“Ben!” Taylor shouted.

“Hwan ying, Peng youmen,”
he said. “Welcome, my friends.”

We took turns embracing him. He looked surprisingly well considering all he'd been through since we'd last seen him—mainly evading the Taiwanese police and military.

“I was so pleased to learn your mother and friends were safe at the ranch,” he said to me.

“So were we,” I said. “The . . .” I hesitated. I remembered that we weren't supposed to speak the word “Elgen” in public. “
They
destroyed the ranch. It was burned to the ground.”

“Yes. I was told. But our friends were saved.”

“Yes. They were saved.”

“Now you have a new mission. There are many of the enemy in Taiwan right now. Too many. They are working with the Taiwanese army and the Taiwanese police to find the man.”

“Do you know where he is?” I asked.

“He is south of us. I do not know exactly where, but we know the city. Tomorrow he will contact us and we will rescue him and get him out of Taiwan.”

“What city?” Ostin asked.

“It is near the city of Changhua.”

“Changhua,” Ostin repeated. “Also called Bamboo City and the county seat of Changhua County. Well known for its landmark, an eighty-five-foot-tall statue of Buddha. It was once home to the Babuza aboriginal tribe and was owned by the Dutch East India Company.”

Ben looked at me. “How does he know these things?”

I shrugged. “He's Ostin.”

“Yes. He is awesome.”

I didn't correct him. “When do we go to Changhua?”

“I will drive you there tonight.”

*  *  *

There were more of us now than the previous time we'd been in Taiwan, and anytime we moved, we required two vans. Ben drove one, Gervaso the other. We kept together, with Ben in front leading the way.

The drive to Changhua was about two and a half hours along the western coast, and it was late at night when we arrived.

“What hotel are we staying at?” McKenna asked.

“No hotel,” Ben said. “House.”

The house Ben took us to was on the outskirts of Changhua and surrounded by rice paddies. It looked more like a building than a residence, which is common in Taiwan. It was three stories high and made of concrete covered with tile. It was part of a complex of a dozen similar structures, though only two of the buildings looked occupied.

“We are here,” Ben said. “Please be quiet. We do not want neighbors to notice so many people. Especially foreigners.”

Without talking we got our bags and went inside. Ben switched on just one light on the main floor, leaving most of the room dark. The place didn't really look lived in. The only furniture on the first floor was a table with four chairs, a computer desk, and a file cabinet.

“Girls on second floor, boys on third floor,” Ben said. “Gervaso, there is a room there for you and me.”

“Thank you,” Gervaso said.

We all walked up one flight to where the girls were staying. I kissed Taylor good night, then went up to the third floor with the rest of the guys. Unlike the girls' level there were no beds, just thin, woven bamboo mats laid over the marble tile floor.

“Nice,” Tanner said. “Nothing like sleeping on a rock floor.”

“Beats Cell 25,” Zeus said.

“Hell beats Cell 25,” I said.

Tanner frowned. “How is that supposed to make me feel better about sleeping on a rock floor?”

*  *  *

Like the safe house we'd stayed at in Kaohsiung, there was a stairway that led to the roof. I guess that's pretty common in Taiwan. People don't hang out on their roofs in America so much. I'm not sure that they do in Taiwan, either, but at least you have that option.

I claimed a mat by throwing my bag onto it. Then Jack and I went up onto the roof to look around. The night air was cool and moist, and even though it was dark, we could see the silhouette of the eighty-five-foot Buddha sitting on a mountain in the distance.

Neither of us spoke for a while. Then Jack said, “I can't believe we're back here.”

I continued looking out into the horizon. “Fight the Elgen, see the world.”

Jack turned to me. “You're really glowing.”

“I know. I just keep getting more electric.”

“I've tried to imagine what that must feel like.”

“It's bizarre. Sometimes I can feel electricity crackle inside me.”

He looked at me quizzically. “That must feel really weird.”

“Yeah.” I took a deep breath. “So you've been pretty quiet about things. What do you think about this mission?”

He hesitated for a moment, then said, “I think that if you have something hard to do, it's better to focus on the task at hand than the outcome.”

“Sounds like something Coach Dibble would say.”

“Dibble was always saying junk like that. ‘Don't beat them, Vranes, just sink the basket you're shooting.' He said that my freshman year before he cut me from the team.” Jack looked me in the eyes, and his voice turned softer. “Speaking of shooting, you know I would take a bullet for you.”

His words shook me. “I'd rather you didn't.”

“I'd rather not either, but if it comes to that . . .”

“If it comes to that, I'll deflect it,” I said. “I can't lose another friend.”

Even in the darkness I could see a shadow cross his face. “Like Wade.”

“He was a hero,” I said.

“I prefer my heroes alive,” Jack said.

“Sometimes it's dying that makes them a hero.”

“No,” Jack said. “It's acting courageously in the face of death that makes someone a hero. Dying is
superfluous
.”

I looked at him for a moment; then we suddenly both grinned.

“That's a pretty good word,” I said.

“Yeah. I heard Ostin say it. I have no idea if I used it right.”

We both laughed. “Come on,” I said. “Let's get some sleep.”