The Last Revenant (Book 1): The Crash (38 page)

He was a Knight.

Our weapons instantly glowed white-hot.

I threw my M4 away from me before it could burn my hands, yet already small bits of plastic had managed to boil and bubble off of the surface to fuse themselves onto my skin. The flurry of activity to my side prompted me to believe that the rest of my group had to deal with the same, though I didn't even get a chance to check.

Without a second's pause, a sudden gale blasted itself against my chest as if I had been hit by a freight train, sending my body flying through the air until my back connected with the side of the nearest car. All the air had been knocked out of me before I could react, but I didn't fall.

Something kept me upright, an invisible hand that pinned every square inch of my form against the vehicle so intensely that the entire chassis began to groan and buckle underneath the pressure. I struggled to breathe. It felt like every single pore on the surface of my body would explode at once and my ribcage would cave-in on itself, entrapping and splintering into my deformed lungs. Incredibly, amidst the blinding pain, I realized that the source of my invisible agony wasn't
something
far off and unexplainable; it was Abel.

I managed to turn my head without breaking my spine, and I could see the rest of the people I had come into the town with pressed up against metal, plastic and glass like me, each one just as defenseless. In the center of the opening, Abel finally lowered his hand and some of the weight dissipated enough for the dark tunnels around my eyes to disappear, though it still hadn't been enough to allow me to move my limbs.

The fallen Knight took a step closer to us and let out a single, hearty laugh, amused by our own efforts to fight against his superiority. He was a tall, tan figure underneath a dark, leathery coat, and understandably built like a tank. To have the strength to carry his own frame must have been a feat in itself, but it was obvious he wasn't using his physical talents at the moment.

I glanced past Badger, Nick, and Murphy to see Olivia strain just as much as anyone else in the line to move a single inch no matter how hard they pushed. It filled me with dread. If she couldn't fight back, if Abel was strong enough to keep eight people and a Knight from moving at the same time, then what the hell would be the point in trying?

The asshole continued to creep closer until he suddenly stopped. He crossed his arms to tap a finger against his chin in a feigned sign of curiosity. “Maybe you can help me,” he said to no one in particular. “I'm looking for someone. She's about this tall...” He brought his hand up to his chest, then ran it over an invisible shape. “Nice rack...”

I closed my eyes. This was it. I knew this was who Knox had sent to take care of me regardless of how he would put it to entertain himself. I suddenly found myself wishing him to be replaced with another monster I could actually fight against when he kept talking.

“You.”

I forced myself to look again, but the reality wasn't what I had been expecting. It was worse. It was always worse. Abel had been talking to Isabel. He stood in front of her and glanced over his shoulder to get a nod from the skinny, pale man. A confirmation.

No...

It was a mistake. He was supposed to be looking for me, but he probably didn't think I was stupid enough to leave the safety of the herd. I opened my mouth to protest, to get him to find the right person, but Olivia's voice came out down the line instead.

“You want someone?” she chided. “I'm right here.”

The Arbiter smiled at that. He brought his hand up and immediately my throat was sealed like a piece of plastic wrap clinging to itself. Nothing would come out—or in. I couldn't breathe. I looked at the line to see everyone I cared about struggle to break the blockage within their own necks without being able to move a finger. We were all slowly suffocating to death and we didn't even get the satisfaction of holding ourselves as we did it. It was pitiful.

Abel gently ran the back of his fingers across Olivia's cheek, his own face uncomfortably close to hers even from my vantage point. “I wasn't talking to you...” He brushed his touch lower, against her chin, down her neck, and then to her chest. “Besides... I like 'em shy.”

He threw his arm back and Isabel fell forward onto the ground. The rest of us gasped in unison and forced air back into our bodies, the grips around our throats gone, but still stuck underneath an impenetrable force as if we'd been set in stone.

“So...” Abel started, pacing around Isabel's trembling body. “My favorite
disciple
tells me you're something of a negotiator...” He referenced his follower as though he were a joke, yet the pale man still beamed at the recognition of his high renown. I promised myself I would kill him first for being stupid enough to play along if I ever got the chance.

Isabel only stared at the ground on her hands and knees, continuing to shake uncontrollably. Her body was passed the breaking point. Her mind had been fried completely. The fear had set in and pulled itself through every fiber of her being. It electrified her muscles until they clamped together and shut themselves down entirely in agonizing atrophy. I recognized it wholeheartedly.

Abel stopped in front of her with his waist practically rubbing up against her forehead. He looked to his side and grinned at all of us, content with himself at what he might be able to do, but instead pet her head as if she were a little cat. “You don't talk much, do you?”

She kept silent for a moment before wiping her nose on the back of her arm and finally spoke up past stifled sniffles. When she did, her face was still cast down. She was too afraid to even look at him. “What do you want?”

I held my breath on my own this time. I could see him think about how to phrase it. He wanted the girl that Juno and Knox had been looking for. He wanted Jessica. He wanted
me
. All he had to do was say it and Isabel could point me out at the end of the line. We would trade spots. It would end her suffering. She would be free.

But the Arbiter had a different plan in mind.

“Take off your shirt.”

I could feel the sudden embarrassment of the proposition practically drip off of her skin. She was surrounded by her entire team and hundreds of strangers, most of them men. To be completely vulnerable as she was now, it apparently wasn't enough. There could always be more.

Everyone in our line began yelling and cursing as loud as they could at the utterance of the very idea, but Abel didn't pay them any attention. He stared down at Isabel and she could only shake in response. It made him angry. He ordered her again. “Take your clothes off.
Now.
”

Still nothing.

It pissed him off even more. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her body a screaming few feet before throwing her against the ground. “You're the negotiator,” he spat down at her. “
Negotiate.
Let's see those tits.”

She continued to cry on the ground.

Abel managed another short laugh, maybe surprised he even had to go so far. He grabbed her by the hair again and pulled her up to his face, forcing her to look up at him. “
Tits
...” he commanded softly. “Or do I have to do it myself?”

Something inside of her clicked into place. I saw it in the curve of her spine. The sudden tensing in her arms. She had enough. The fear had been replaced with anger, and she wouldn't be afraid to let him have it any longer. There would be no turning back.

The words hung themselves on something in my throat. I recognized them entirely. I knew what I needed to say.

Stop!

It's me!

You want me!

Anything to get Abel to understand that he was hurting the wrong woman.

But I couldn't.

My voice was gone, though my neck wasn't held in a vice. The others to my side cursed Abel freely, but I couldn't bring myself to utter what needed to be said. I cried as I watched her look up at him and glare into his eyes, her own—daggers. I was too afraid to switch spots with her. I was a coward.  I would watch her pay the price for it. She would be hurt because of me.

White, tensed fingers held the back of her head still while blonde locks floated freely above in a wavy mess. Abel continued to hold on to her, but she couldn't. She finally let go. The words slipped out at the absence of my own, and I realized I had let her down. “Fuck you.”

The Arbiter's eye twitched. A vein popped in and out of existence on his forehead. Both as quick as the pause in his breath. I could have made up the signs entirely, but their effects weren't make-believe. He flashed his sadistic grin at her and nodded. “Fuck me, right?”

He threw her face through a car window.

Her body hit the ground limp. The broken glass above her fell down like glitter, but it was over before it even started. It had all happened too quickly. At first she was strong enough to fight back, and then the next second her body lay motionless as hundreds of tiny scars bled out from her face and began to clump her hair.

One of Badger's men went ballistic at the sight. I couldn't remember his name no matter how hard I tried. I knew it had been said in the truck, though I couldn't remember—until his team tried to calm him down.

Conner.

The spec-op operator dropped to the ground with the wave of Abel's arm, the sudden force broken, and he immediately got back up with a snarl from his lips. The sudden beast in front of us wanted blood. The Arbiter was much more than willing to oblige. He grinned over Isabel's still body and waved him on over.

Conner sprinted towards him like a wild boar, only to swing a missing punch and receive one hard enough to break his ribs. The solider fell down to his knees, forced himself back up and tried again. He threw his arm wide and Abel effortlessly held it in place, breaking it apart piece by piece as if he were disassembling a rifle. A quick series of
cracks
flew through the air and the limb turned at a jagged angle where ever the bones had been broken and forced into a new configuration.

The same happened to his other side and Conner fell down, screaming. Both of his arms hung loose from his body like dangling strips of meat. He could barely breathe, but he still kept himself upright. He still kept the strength to stay conscious, look Abel in the eye and not give him the satisfaction of going down without a fight. He swore at him.

The Arbiter ignored the taunts from our line and instead struck an idea as he watched a line of crimson fall from his opponent's lips. He waved for someone to bring him Badger's pack and started rummaging through it until he found what he was looking for, bringing his attention back to the dying man in front of him. “Captain buzz-kill, is it?” He lifted his chin and then tossed it away.

Conner merely struggled to stay upright. The rest of us kept as motionless as we had from the start, spurring our minds to understand what Abel would do next. Waiting almost felt worse than watching it happen.

“You talk too much.” Abel turned to the rest of us. He pulled out a metal cylinder from the bag and waved it at us. “Anyone know what this is?”

Thermite.

The metal ring on the end clinked as she shook it. Nobody gave him an answer. “No? Then let’s find out.” He tapped the grenade against Conner's temple. “Time to shine, soldier. Open wide.”

Conner shrugged away from the metal cylinder and kept his jaw shut until Abel squeezed his broken shoulder. He screamed long enough for Abel to shove the grenade into his mouth and held it there with one hand while the other shuffled around inside the pack.

He pulled out a roll of tape and began winding it over Conner's face. He ran it over the cylinder, careful to leave the pin exposed, but the rest firmly lodged against the man's throat as it was held in place by single, long strand that covered his neck, nose, eyes, and forehead. Satisfied with his work, he threw the rest away and dragged the now half-paralyzed, blindfolded man with a grenade primed in his mouth towards us until he was only a few feet away. He wanted us to watch. He wanted us to see the whole thing up close. It was all for us. For me.

He forced Conner to his knees and stuck a finger through the metal ring sticking out in front of his face, daring us to utter a single more insult while the life we were staring at rested on the pull of a pin. I could hear the soldier wheeze uncomfortably, the restriction of his airflow further tainted as it ran past the metal in his mouth. Abel's smile faded, and my heart skipped a beat. He had gotten back to business.

“Jessica Carter...” he said flatly, looking us over with a watchful eye.

I flinched at the mention of my name. I prayed that he didn't notice.

“Where is she?”

I kept my eyes glued on Conner. I couldn't do anything else. I was so full of fear that if I hadn't been kept still, I would have fallen over in complete shock. My heart felt like it would give me up sooner and burst out of my chest, but to my complete bewilderment, nobody said a word. Except Badger.

He stared Abel down in a death stare with an intensity that should have melted his face off. “I'm gonna kill you. I swear to God. If it's the last thing I ever do.” His vice was tight, bordering on psychotic or breaking out into a weeping mess, though he still didn't give me up.