Raven's Peak (25 page)

She headed back through the FedEx building to where Haatim was hiding. He was huddled low, clutching another box to his chest and staring at the entry with unbridled terror.

He jumped when she approached, letting out a little screech. “Come on,” she said, heading toward the exit. Glass crunched under her steps. “We can’t stick around.”

She paused at the doorway and listened, but she couldn’t hear anyone outside, either.

“You think it’s over?” Haatim asked.

Abigail stepped outside. The city was still foggy, but the fog was lifting, and she could see more of the town laid out before her. All around them the streets were empty.

Down the road a few hundred meters she saw a building on fire. It looked like it had been burning for some time, but there wasn’t a fire truck or anyone tending to it. More smoke rose in the distance. Two other buildings on her street had their windows smashed in and looked to have been looted sometime in the middle of the night.

She heard a police siren sounding in the distance. It was followed by a series of gunshots and a loud shriek.

“No,” she said. “I think it’s only just begun.”

She headed back to Haatim’s Chevy. It was riddled with bullets and leaking various fluids. Smoke wafted out, and the engine was hissing; she knew it wouldn’t work anymore, and probably never again. Haatim paused beside her, looking at his vehicle with an expression of utter despair on his face.

“My car,” he muttered.

“Better it than you.”

“Yeah, I know. But, still…”

“Don’t worry, you can buy a new one,” she said.

She walked toward the trunk. It was smashed where the other vehicle had crashed into it and popped open. She pulled her duffel bag out and checked it for bullet holes.

It looked to be intact, and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Several of the items in it were incredibly rare and valuable and she didn’t have the funds to replace them.

“What’s that?” Haatim asked.

“What’s what?” she asked.

“That high-pitched ringing sound?”

“It’s the after effect of the gunshots,” she said. “Don’t worry, it’ll go away.”

He ignored her and glanced into the car, then leaned inside and started digging around. After a moment he came back out of the car holding her satellite phone. It was chiming softly.

“I meant this,” he said. He handed it to her and she clicked it on.

“Hello?”

“You need to get out of Raven’s Peak,” Frieda said immediately.

“I can’t. We’ve got a couple of civilians injured, and I need you to send some doctors. Multiple gunshot wounds. They attacked us, and at least one of them is dead. We need a clean-up crew as well to—”

“They’ve declared Raven’s Peak a dead zone.”

Abigail fell silent, utterly shocked. “They what?”

“It’s happening in two hours. Napalm. They’re going to make it look like a forest fire. Belphegor is too high risk to deal with any other way. This needs to be contained.”

“Contained, yes, but what you’re talking about…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “There are thousands of people living here.”

“I know,” Frieda said softly. “But if Belphegor gets out of Raven’s Peak, it won’t be long before the casualty count is in the tens of thousands. You’ve seen what he can do, Abi. You know we don’t have the resources to handle something like this.”

“Forest fire? That doesn’t sound like an ideal alibi if you ask me.”

“This isn’t an ideal situation,” Frieda replied.

Abigail rubbed her face. “What if I could stop Belphegor?”

“You can’t.”

“But what if I could?”

“Then we could call off the strike. But it doesn’t matter, Abi. This threat is beyond any of us. The Council isn’t taking any chances, and they’re going to kill everyone. It’s been over a thousand years since Belphegor has had access to a body, and the last time the death toll was catastrophic.”

“How long do I have?”

“Not long. Your priority is getting yourself and Haatim safely out of the city.”

“I never said I had Haatim with me,” Abigail argued.

“Abigail this isn’t a joke. I still haven’t told the Council he’s with you and they are launching a full scale investigation to locate him. If they find out he’s been with you this entire time or, worse that
we
put him in danger, then things will go badly for both of us. You
need
to leave now.”

“Then all of these people will die.”

“They are already dead.”

“I need time,” Abigail pleaded. “I can do this. Please, Frieda, I’m begging you: have faith in me.”

Frieda was silent for a long minute. “I’m sorry, Abigail. I have all the faith in the world for you, but my hands are tied. The Council has already made their decision.”

Then she hung up. Haatim was staring at her, a look of worry on his face.

“Everything OK?”

“No,” she said. “No, it sure as hell isn’t.”

“We have to leave,” Abigail said. “They are about to burn the city to the ground.”

Haatim stared at her, wondering if maybe he’d heard wrong. He had hit his head during the car crash, so maybe he had a concussion. He shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I thought you just said they were going to burn the city down.”

“That’s what I said,” Abigail replied. “We don’t have much time, and I need to get you out of here.”

“But, then everyone here is going to die.”

“I know,” Abigail said. “I wish I could help them, but if we stay we will die along with them.”

“We can’t just let them die.”

The look of helpless resignation on Abigail’s face floored Haatim. “I know,” she said. “But there is no other way. They would never call off an airstrike because
I
asked them to. I’m a pariah.”

“There has to be something—”

“What?” Abigail asked. “What could we do? We have
minutes
before they drop their bombs and kill everyone. Your father would kill me if I let something happen to you.”

“Does he know I’m here?”

Abigail shook her head. “He doesn’t know you’re with me at all, and he’s not exactly the forgiving type.”

“Could you stop this? Could you save these people?”

“I don’t know,” Abigail admitted. “But, I don’t know if I can live myself if I never even try.”

There was a sudden bout of shouting from farther up the road. Voices were spilling out of an Italian Restaurant on the corner. The front door was open, and they could hear the sounds of breaking glass inside.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m going to go check it out. You stay here.”

She set the satellite radio on the hood of his busted up car and then moved quickly up the street, scanning the area and moving toward the restaurant. Haatim waited inside the FedEx building, trying to wrap his mind around what was happening.

It was insane to think that so many people would be killed because of something like this, and the idea that his father might have something to do with it was unthinkable. His father had always been stern and unwilling to compromise. But to think that he would willingly be a part of mass murder like this…

Haatim pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned it on. After it finished booting he clicked the button to call his father. Aram Malhotra answered immediately.

“Haatim! Thank God. Where are you?”

“I’m in Raven’s Peak.”

The other end of the phone was silent. Haatim could feel his father’s anger and disapproval spilling through the speaker.

“What is going on? Who are you with—?”

“It doesn’t matter, Dad,” Haatim said. “I need you to call off the attack on the city.”

“How do you know about—?”

“Call them off,” Haatim said, “Or you’ll be killing your own son.”

A long silence. “There are things at work here that you cannot possibly understand, Haatim,” his father said.

His voice was quivering, but the words were like a punch in Haatim’s stomach, solidifying everything Abigail had told him: his father was involved in this in some way, and he’d kept it from Haatim for his entire life.

“I know,” Haatim said, “but that doesn’t change the reality of
this
situation. If you don’t call off the airstrike, then I’ll be dead.”

“I cannot call it off.”

“Then delay it,” Haatim replied. “I don’t care how, but I’m not letting you murder all of these innocent people. Not when there is a chance that Abigail can save them.”

“You are with Abigail? I knew it. Frieda was lying. Son, trust me, Abigail cannot handle something like
this
.”

“You are always the one telling me to have Faith, father.”

“I have
no
faith in Abigail.”

“Then have faith in me,” Haatim said. “This is my decision, and it’s already been made. Call the Council and delay the strike. I won’t ask again.”

“Haatim, you do not understand. Leave the city, now. I beg of you.”

“No,” Haatim said. “I’m sorry.”

Then he hung up. The phone battery was almost dead, and with a sigh he dropped it on the floor. His hands were shivering and he couldn’t think of any time he’d ever stood up to his father before. He’d always been terrified of his father while growing up.

But, now, everything had changed.

Abigail was back a minute later. She saw the expression on his face and cocked her head in confusion. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

The satellite phone started to ring, bouncing on the torn up hood. Haatim picked it up. “It’s for you,” he said.

He clicked the speaker button on the phone. There was a moment of silence, and then Frieda said:

“You have one hour, Abigail. Don’t mess this up. Haatim, when this is over with, you and I will exchange words.”

“Words?” Haatim echoed after Frieda closed the connection. “Should I be concerned?”

“Only if you enjoy living,” Abigail answered. “I only get that tone from her when she’s really pissed off. What did you do? How did you get them to give me more time?”

“You can stop this, right?” he asked.

Abigail stared at Haatim. “You called your father.”

“We had a nice chat.”

“That was stupid, Haatim,” Abigail replied.

“Not if you can stop this,” he said. “Then it’ll be worth it. These people don’t deserve to die.”

Abigail picked up her duffel bag and started walking down the street. It was quiet and empty, which even for a town this small it felt unnatural. She walked toward a couple of cars that were parked in front of a coffee shop.

“What do we do now?”

“
You
,” Abigail said, testing the door—it was locked. “Are getting out of town right now. There is going to be a roadblock somewhere outside the city, but it will be one of ours. Tell them who you are and who your father is, and they will let you through.”

“No way, I’m not leaving you.”

She hesitated and turned to face him.

“Thank you for trusting in me,” she said. “But this is where our paths diverge. You need to get back to your family.”

“I want to help.”

“You already have,” she said.

Abigail went to the rear window and hit it with her elbow, shattering the glass. Then, she reached in and unlocked the front door.

“What are you going to do?”

“I,” she said, “am going to kill Belphegor.”

“Will that stop what’s happening?”

“Yes,” Abigail said. “I think so.”

“You think so?”

“I’ve never dealt with something this crazy before, but situations like this usually end when the source is destroyed. If I can find him and take him out, then at the very least I know he won’t be able to spread this madness anywhere else. And, thanks to you, I now have an hour to do it.”

“Is it enough time?”

“More than enough,” Abigail said. “By the time this hour is up, either he will be dead or I will.”

She leaned into the front seat of the car she’d just opened and started hot wiring it. After a quick splice of the wires the car sputtered to life. She dropped her duffel bag into the backseat and started rifling through it, finally pulling out a hand crossbow and a pouch of tiny darts.

“A crossbow?”

“Great for administering doses of sleeping medicine,” she said. She loaded a dart and slipped the rest into her pocket. “I’m not a fan of blowguns.”

“Doesn’t prayer work?” he asked. “Banishing demons with litanies and the Lord’s words?”

“It does,” Abigail said. “But it was never really my thing. Arthur was an ordained Minister, and he taught me a handful of prayers, but I never really took it seriously. For me, guns are what I use to pray with.”

As if to emphasize her point, she pulled out a short-barreled shotgun and a pack of twenty-gauge shells. She also slid the satellite phone into her pocket. It was bullet-proof and expensive but bulky and frustrating to carry with her.

“How many weapons do you keep with you?”

“Enough,” she replied. She loaded the shotgun and then glanced at Haatim. “Time for you to go. The car has half a tank, which should be plenty to get you past the blockade. Don’t stop until you’re well clear of this entire area.”

“OK,” he replied. “What about your stuff?”

“If I make it out of here, I’ll come get it.”

Haatim hesitated. “If?”

She shrugged. “Optimism was never really my strong suit. Now go.”

He started to climb into the car and then hesitated. He wrapped her up in a hug, catching her off-guard. “Thanks,” he said. “For everything.”

“No problem,” she said, extricating herself from the hug.

“Be safe.”

“I will,” she replied. “Take care of yourself, Haatim.”

He nodded and climbed into the car. She watched him drive off, heading out of town, and then she turned and looked back toward the center of town. The fog was almost completely gone, and the city was a scene of devastation: fires raged, people were shouting, and it was mass chaos.

If Belphegor was here, he’d be building up some kind of army to protect himself. If Abigail wanted to find him, all she would need to do was follow the people who are acting crazy.

Haatim drove along the outskirts of town, heading for the road leading away from Raven’s Peak and back toward civilization. Part of him was relieved to be getting away from all of the insanity, even though he was leaving Abigail behind. He hadn’t known her for that long, but he had come to like and respect her.