Keystones: Altered Destinies (17 page)

Stalker felt his victim weakening. Her air vanishing, she struggled less and less. Her early attempts to pierce his dark prison with light had been feeble compared to those exerted in her rescue of the other man. Soon Stalker would be able to enjoy his handiwork and release a frozen corpse. Even now ice was encasing her body. Pieces broke off without any reaction from her.

Pleasure thrummed through Stalker. He knew that he had pleased the Void.

Then something anomalous and inexplicable happened. Stalker suddenly felt ill. His world lurched as a sensation like that of boiling lead in his stomach caused a wave of nausea to sweep through him. The frozen body was becoming warm, very warm. The tumbling pieces of her body burned like incandescent lights in the darkness. Everywhere they fell the Void shredded and tore and broke. Stalker felt stretched like a balloon filled with too much air.

In a panic he tried to find his human shape, but the lights dispelled his darkness. All of the sundered parts of his shadow drifted farther and farther away. Thought itself became tenuous as he lost more and more of himself.

He cried out to the Void in desperation, wailing for help that didn’t come.

Shock

Deklan was still staring blankly at nothing, not quite aware of what was happening, when Sebastian’s call came through on his Uplink. The device beeped several times before he could rouse himself to answer it. His fingertip left a smear of blood on the screen.

“Deklan?” said a tentative Sebastian.

It took Deklan several swallows to clear the lump in his throat. “Sebastian?”

“Here.” His habitual shyness was replaced by faint hints of relief.

“I lost her.”

“What?”

Deklan’s voice was toneless. “A shadow Keystone just ate her. She’s gone.”

“A shadow? Ate whom?”

“Susan, the vet. One second she was there; the next she was gone. It all happened so fast. I don’t know what to do.”

Sebastian’s voice was firm. “Get to the Elevator.”

Deklan was still not engaged in the conversation. “What?”

“Do what you told me to do. Get to the Elevator.”

“Right, yeah. I need to do that.” His agreement sounded weak, even to him.

“You’re damn right you need to do that. You told me that we needed to get to the Elevators to be safe. I’m sorry she’s gone, but she wouldn’t have stood a chance if you’d left her in New York. Now you need to save yourself.”

“What about you?”

“I’m in Boa Vista.”

“Found that cargo plane?” asked Deklan, mouth functioning on autopilot.

“No, I just flew. It’s incredible how far you can coast with wings this big.”

“You flew?”

“Yeah. They loved me in Texas.”

“Texas?”

“Deklan, you need to focus. I can see the mayhem in this city. This is not a good time for you to lose your edge.”

Deklan knew that Sebastian was right. “So I’ll see you at the Elevator?”

“Probably, yeah. I’m going to dart around the city and see whether I can help out, but then, yes, I’m going to head to the Elevator.”

“Can you transport my parents?” asked Deklan.

“What?”

“My parents. Susan was just eaten by a shadow, and I don’t want the same to happen to them. Can you carry them? I can’t keep them safe.”

Sebastian briefly considered the idea. “Yes, one at a time, though.”

“Thank you.” Deklan tapped a few icons on his Uplink. “Can you see where I am?”

“Yes.”

“Now what?” asked Brice Tobin.

“Wait a moment, Dad. I think this part will be quick,” Deklan reassured him.

Deklan scanned the sky and started to wave. What had been a tiny speck blossomed into a full-sized human diving down from the sky. Sebastian drew closer with unbelievable speed.

Wings tucked and face turned forward, like the prow of a ship breaking the air in front of him, he arrowed toward the ground. Curving his angle of descent and losing momentum in the last few moments, he landed among them. Stepping toward Deklan, he clasped his hand.

Sebastian looked different. It wasn’t just his skin, which was darker and tanner and healthier-looking. His eyes had a sharper focus to them. Standing tall and confident, broad shoulders framed by his enormous wings, he radiated a self-assurance that had been absent when they’d first met.

Deklan felt relief upon seeing him. For the moment everything was going to be okay. “Sebastian, thanks for the favor.”

Sebastian shrugged. “Don’t mention it. I appreciate your advice from earlier. New York was fun, but getting here was a wonderful adventure all on its own.” He looked around before turning back to Deklan. “Are these your parents?”

Deklan put a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, preparing to introduce him to his parents. “Sebastian. . . .”

Sebastian interrupted him in a confident voice. “Michael is fine. I think I’m growing into it.”

Deklan flashed a half-smile. “Michael, these are my parents, Tricia and Brice Tobin.”

“Tricia, Brice, pleased to meet you. Tricia, would you like to go first?”

Tricia was silent, a rarity for her. Deklan saw that his mother was starstruck. “Mom?” he prompted.

“Y-yes. That would be nice.” She sounded like a schoolgirl meeting a movie star.

“Alright. Well, I scouted ahead before I landed here.” He pointed in the direction of the Elevator. “I picked out a suitable rooftop to use as a halfway point.”

Deklan was clearly surprised. “You were able to do that before finding us?”

Michael tapped the side of his head near his eyes. He sounded pleased with himself. “I located you before we finished speaking. Then I went ahead and surveyed the route to the Elevator. It’s frenetic. Quite a few violent Keystones are lighting up the streets.”

“What are they doing?” asked Deklan.

Michael shrugged again. “Too many things to list, but about fourteen blocks behind you there’s a sprawling reflective structure that’s swallowed a series of alleyways and a few sections of a main street. I have no idea what it is.”

Deklan frowned and rubbed the side of his face. “Is there any safe route to the Elevator?”

“I’d be happier taking the three of you to a nearby rooftop and then reassessing the situation from there. I’m just not confident that things will be the same ten minutes from now. There’s a crush of people by the Elevator. I would imagine that most are frightened refugees. Undoubtedly there are human and animal predators afoot nearby. Tricia, are you ready for a ride to that rooftop I mentioned?”

Deklan spoke for his mother. “That sounds great. Dad and I will wait for you here.”

“Okay, see you in a few minutes,” said Michael, who then gathered Tricia into his arms and rocketed into the sky.

Moments later Deklan began searching the sky for signs of Michael as well as any incoming threats. Losing Susan had shaken him more than a little.

He was relieved when a rush of air marked Michael’s return. The man seemed larger than life each time Deklan saw him. He appeared almost without warning, landing seconds after Deklan spotted him, touching down between Brice and Deklan. Landing in a half crouch, he leaned forward with his wings stretched out behind him, one hand steadying him on the ground. With lithe grace, he rose to his full height, wings furled around his sun-darkened torso.

“Your mother is in sight of the Elevator.” He turned to Brice. “Ready for your turn?”

Brice Tobin looked Michael up and down. “Sure you can carry me?” he asked, patting his stomach. “I’m not the lightest of men.”

Michael seemed unconcerned. “Neither is your son. It’ll be awkward, but we’ll manage. Ready?”

Brice nodded in the affirmative. Michael then hooked his arms under Brice’s shoulders and across the older man’s chest. “Try not to struggle,” he advised. “This will be over before you know it.” His wings snapped open as far as they could in the limited space. When Michael flapped them, miniature hurricanes formed in their wake, and he and Brice shot into the sky together.

Chain

Chain had watched Stalker for days. That was his job. The kid was an unknown element. All that anyone knew about him was that he was a psychopath who’d left a trail of bodies in his wake. He dressed in ragged clothes when he came back from the shadows. The word “unpredictable” described him well. Sometimes he hunted animals and then without warning consumed a person. Chain pursued him only because he’d been ordered to keep track of him, as much as anyone could keep track of a living shadow.

Then came the unassuming group of four who had somehow beaten him. The woman with hands that could shoot light had all but cut him apart. That, of course, was before Stalker had come back and eaten her. Not even a body had been left. Just thinking about it made Chain shiver. Whatever Stalker did to his victims, it was always cold and ruthless.

Now that Chain had lost track of Stalker, he thought that this group was his best way of finding him again. Sometimes it was best to hunt the prey of your prey.

He walked along the edge of a rooftop looking for a better vantage point. A large gap between buildings revealed a wide alley below. Not missing a stride, Chain jumped straight into the air and pointed his left arm at the roof of the building on which he wanted to land. A glowing purple chain shot from his palm and anchored itself there. With the speed of thought, he jerked himself sideways and across the gap. Before landing, he fired a second chain from his right hand to slow his momentum, allowing for a landing that, if not graceful, was at least painless. The entire process could have been measured in heartbeats.

Returning his attention to the people below, he was startled by a deep and primal growl behind him. The primitive part of Chain’s brain told him to run, but he ignored the instinct. Moments earlier the rooftop had been empty. Now a massive rat was looking at him as though he were lunch. All over the roof a small army of other rodents came out of hiding, all pressing toward him with bristling fur and twitching tails.

The lead rat was growing in size. It had been nearly a meter long when Chain had first turned around, but it was already half a meter larger and still growing. Another rat, an old and shrewd member of its species if you could judge by the white hair streaking its coat, had its tail curled and pointed at Chain, a red light emanating from the tip. Chain watched as the light brightened from the dull red of a dying coal to a neon glare. Looking at the horde without concern, Chain held his hands out and fired fresh bolts of glowing chains from his palms.

The bolts cut the smaller rats in half, their bodies gushing blood onto the rooftop. The larger rat presented something of a challenge. Chain hit it first in its foreleg, ripping through bone and sinew. The rat let out a scream that was disturbing because of its human qualities. Injured though it was, the monster kept advancing. Now annoyed, Chain sent another bolt straight toward its face. The end of the chain pierced the flesh, meeting with all the resistance of tissue paper, and continued on through the brain. As the huge beast collapsed, the back of its head exploded.

Grunting in satisfaction, Chain searched the roof for any other signs of danger before continuing his hunt. There was nothing except dead rodents and bright blood glistening in the sun.

He turned his attention back to the people he had been observing. They had stopped moving. That was a bit of a relief because it meant that Chain could get under cover and away from the sun. He fired another bolt into a side of the building that didn’t face them and swung through a window into a vacant apartment.

Watching the people below from a corner window, he was surprised when a man with massive wings dove down and joined them. Chain watched as the winged man flew first one and later a second member of the party away, leaving the third person isolated. It didn’t do, thought Chain, for people to think that they could come and go in gang territory with impunity.

Chain took one last glance at the apartment around him before jumping out of the sixth-story window. Firing two chains, one in the direction of his target and the other up the side of the building to slow his fall, he descended. Landing with more grace each time he tried such a maneuver, Chain didn’t miss a step as he touched down on the ground.

Teleporting

Slate looked down from a rooftop. The street was amok with activity. The last day and night had been filled with quick rescues that allowed little time for rest. By dawn every mutant and malicious Keystone seemed to have taken to the streets. Several times Slate had teleported in to save a person on the verge of succumbing to bizarre attacks.

It was amazing that there were so many animal Keystones, the risks of encounters with which the news reports had mentioned but downplayed. Predatory human Keystones were harder to deal with, because they had learned how to use their abilities to greater effect, but they were much less common than their animal counterparts.

The advice dispensed by the news networks, Slate realized, was nonsensical and impractical, broadcasted by those who had no finger on the pulse of the city. It was easy to suggest that people stay inside, away from the chaos, except that doors presented no barrier to most Keystone intruders.

Slate was unsure of what to do any longer to counter many of the Keystones’ abilities. Between teleportation and brute strength, combat was a mismatch in Slate’s favor. But when confronted with something that couldn’t be touched without burning one’s hand, Slate faced a host of problems.

Slate teleported to another rooftop, the maneuver’s initial lurch having become familiar by now. The roof was deserted and dirty. Slate had seen variations on the same rooftop scene again and again over the last few days. The best alternative was to teleport somewhere else.

Just then a third-story wall blew out from the building across the street, plaster and bricks scattering through the air. A man slid through the opening. He sailed through the air and hit the ground with a resounding smack and just kept sliding.

Odd occurrences were common now. The man with white wings came to mind, but Slate was unprepared for the invasion of rats that followed the man out of the blast site. They spread down the side of the building like a plague of mold growing down to the ground.