Warrior of the Ages (Warriors of the Ages) (28 page)

BETH TRIED TO get back to Willowyth that night. It was impossible. Berwick’s men seemed to be waiting along the highway. In the closest call yet, she escaped only because one of Berwick’s SUV’s tried to turn too quickly and skidded out of control, causing an accident. She had a feeling that whoever was driving that black SUV wouldn’t be trailing her or anybody else, ever again, and it wasn’t a good feeling at all.

THE NEXT MORNING Beth sat in her vehicle staring at a map. There were only two ways into Willowyth and she was certain that Berwick’s men had them both covered. Too tired to think straight, but afraid to sleep in her car, she parked her vehicle in a parking garage. Then Beth caught a bus, sat in a backseat and fell asleep. She woke up to a homeless man stuffing a plastic bag on her lap and lamenting the loss of the city’s old stadium. Beth got off at the next stop, well aware of the fact that she looked a bit homeless herself. She felt it. In fact, she was.

At the bus stop a teenager leaned against a streetlamp talking on his cell phone. Beth stood watching him until he winked at her and clicked the old style phone shut.

“Hey.”

“Would you sell me that phone?”

“How much?”

Beth watched his eyes. “Twenty dollars.”

“Right.” The kid was slight, dressed in red sweatpants and a flannel shirt, in June. His hair artfully arranged to stick straight up in the middle of his head, Beth decided he was trying to achieve a look she was either unfamiliar with or that he couldn’t afford.

“Fifty,” she offered.

“I have more than fifty dollars in prepaid minutes on this.”

It was one of those old prepaid kinds of phones with no GPS capability, and the kid was a really bad liar. Those were both good things to Beth’s way of thinking.

“You shouldn’t lie. Life is confusing enough without lies. How many minutes are really on it? I don’t care, but I need to know.”

He shrugged, but admitted, “Four.”

Beth smiled at him and offered the fifty. “Because you told the truth.”

“Fifty isn’t much for a new phone.”

“That phone is a piece of junk and you know it.”

“Uh, okay lady.” He took the money and headed down the street, glancing back at Beth a couple of times. The bus for the zoo squealed to a stop in front of her and Beth hopped on it.

MONKEY ISLAND AT The Cleveland Zoo fascinated Beth. She came up with a theory that monkey society was creepily similar to the way people had been before the invention of television, before everyone became self-conscious. This was also an excellent way to waste time instead of calling the Willowyth police station.

Just do it.
She dialed.

“Willowyth Police, is this an emergency?” The voice reassured in its politeness.

“Naw.” Imitating voices did come easy to Covenant Keepers. Beth had always been a bit proud of the talent, when she’d assumed it was just hers. She produced some impressively wet coughing.

“Ah need’ta tawk ta Kent, ‘bout Brenda Blake.”

There was a moment’s hesitation before the officer politely offered, “One moment, please.”

Beth counted in her head, three, two…and a familiar sounding husky voice came on the line. “This is Chief Costas.”

Beth’s mouth opened and then she shut it with a snap and hung up. It wasn’t Kahtar. It sounded like him, or very close to his voice, but the lie shot through the phone like a slap.

Maybe I should have asked for Honor…no. I can’t ask any of them for help. If I do they’ll never believe I want to come back. They’ll think I need them because of Berwick. I need to get back on my own. Maybe I could hike in through the farmlands, I could get a compass. Beth turned back to the monkeys. She’d lived in many places, but she’d never hiked in her life, and she wasn’t even entirely certain what one did with a compass, so that solution was out. Despite their suits, Berwick’s men had looked like they could hike The Grand Canyon without breaking a sweat, and she strongly suspected they didn’t even need a compass for direction.

A plan began to form. She needed to buy an airline ticket. If the credit card would work. She’d also need to steal a car, preferably one without anyone’s mother in the back seat.

SEVENTY-TWO HOURS. ONE Orphan of the Inquisition had eluded three thousand Cultuelle Kristos’ warriors for seventy-two hours. Oh, Berwick had eluded them much longer, yet the men seemed to take their inability to locate Beth much harder, as though she should be easier to find because she was barely Covenant Keeper, or because she was a lone woman.

They’re so young.
Kahtar had summoned Old Guard the very first day, pleading his case.

“She could expose the clan.”

“That was your risk when you took her, your choice.”

“You are pledged to protect this clan.”

“Yes. We are not pledged to hunt those who do not uphold The Covenant. She is free to do as she will.”

The Mother had summoned Kahtar to her home. Sitting at her kitchen table she’d admonished him in her polite way.

“It is not like you to underestimate anyone.”

“We will find her eventually. She bought a plane ticket to Buenos Aires. Abigail will take me there using a tesseract.”

“Collect this Orphan and anyone she has exposed us to.” The look in The Mother’s normally serene gaze was worried.

“She didn’t go to her parent’s house. She isn’t a fool.”

“I hope you are right. It would be heartbreak to send a family of Orphans into The Mists. They wouldn’t survive a day. This Orphan is the greatest exposure risk Cultuelle Khristos has ever faced, Kahtar. Do whatever it takes to find her and protect our clan.”

ABIGAIL WOULD MEET him at the cave. Kahtar needed only to check the data bases at the police station one last time. Surely Beth did not have enough cash on her person to travel around Buenos Aires. Eventually she would have to use her credit card again. So far she had charged nothing since she bought the airline ticket in Cleveland. Nothing had been charged in Argentina though the ticket had been used. Bending over the computer, clicking the mouse futilely, Kahtar wished he had access to airport security cameras. He dreaded following dead ends. If Beth was clever enough to set him up from the beginning, she was clever enough to have left a false trail and this felt false. Brigg shoved his office door open.

“Hey, Chief? You have a call on line eight.”

“I’m out of here.”

“She claims to be Brenda Blake.”

Straightening up, Kahar fixed his steely gaze on Briggs.

“Brenda is dead. Is it her friend? The one who used to work at the coffee shop with her?”

Brigg shrugged. “I don’t know who it really is, but she sure sounds like Brenda.”

Kahtar grabbed the phone and snapped into it. “Chief Costas.”

“Kahtar?” Beth’s voice quavered. Shock made him sink back into his office chair and he motioned Brigg away with his hand.

“Where are you?”

“I really messed up. I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I know it has to have caused you all a lot of trouble. Tell Honor too, okay? Tell him I’m sorry. I know you won’t believe me, but I never lied to any of you, and don’t worry about…complications. There won’t be any.”

Something about the blunt, rushed confession, the shaking voice, made him rise, and grip the phone tighter. She was in trouble.

“Where are you, Beth?”

“At a Marathon Gas Station on the East Side, Berwick is here.”

A stream of cuss words began to flit through his mind like ticker tape.

“Are you safe?” It was a stupid question. She’d just given him what sounded like her death bed confession.

The snort was devoid of any humor. “Well, he finally realizes I’m not going to create an Arc with him.”

“Where is Berwick?”

“He’s outside of my car, pumping gasoline all over it.”

“We’re coming.”

“That’s nice of you, but that’s not why I called. There isn’t enough time anyway, just remember what I said. Sometimes I get so focused on what I’m doing that I don’t think far enough ahead. Oh, I…”

The line went dead. Turning to his computer Kahtar banged on the keyboard frantically, searching for the location of the gas station. Running to his door he shouted into the hallway.

“Brigg? Berwick’s at a Marathon Station on Superior Avenue. Get Old Guard there.” Then he slammed his door shut in the warrior’s stunned face. Ever since Welcome Palmer had put the idea into his mind, like the scars from the hydrofluoric acid on his legs, it had lingered.
“Your flesh has light attributes like an Old Guard.” “I thought it meant you could shimmer in and out like an Old Guard.” “Have you ever tried?”
Closing his eyes he focused on fading into the light. He’d gone with the Old Guard so often over the centuries, how many times had he wondered if he understood how to do it now?