The smells of burnt gunpowder and blood filled the car as Patrick climbed into the backseat. The driver, Lewis, knew better than to ask questions, but I still saw him flinch in the rearview mirror, his eyes instinctively glancing back to find the source of the death smell that had drawn so near. Patrick met his gaze momentarily, giving him a brief nod before looking at me. I turned my attention to Jason’s grandfather, but not before seeing Lewis visibly pale as he lowered his eyes and started the car.
“Was there anything?” I could see by his expression, as well as Jason’s absence, that it hadn’t gone well, but there are degrees of success and failure. The first two sites hadn’t directly helped find Jason except through the process of elimination, but there were petabytes of data that had been recovered as well. Something so voluminous and well-encrypted, while not necessarily useful in the short-term, might be invaluable later on. Particularly if we were going ever going to find Jason.
His expression was dark as he shook his head slightly and rubbed his mouth. “Not Jason, no. But he was here.” He looked older in that moment than I’d ever seen him, a thin sigh escaping him as he looked down at his feet. “They…they were torturing him I think. He could survive it, I’m sure, but just the thought…” Shaking his head more vehemently, the hand at his lip drew down into a tight fist. “The ones that were left aren’t left any more.”
I nodded, trying to keep my expression neutral. I’d gone with Patrick into the first two buildings, telling myself he may need my help and wanting to be there if we found Jason. Telling myself that I had seen my share of death and horror—enough to grow immune to any real shock or fear at facing it again.
I was wrong.
It wasn’t just the dead bodies—most were little more than drying puddles after the poison had done its work. The few that had died of bullets or improvised office supplies didn’t melt away, but they were just bodies, after all. Bodies of strangers that were bad. More obstacles than people, I told myself. Obstacles that deserved what they got.
But as we passed through clusters of cubicles and rows of executive offices, I kept seeing traces of who these people had been. Photos of their families. Knickknacks and diplomas. Lunch bags and cute screensavers. It made it easier if I could just say they were all part of some faceless evil—a corporation serving as a legitimate front to The House of the Claw, a cult that had hurt so many and taken my friend from us.
But were they all purely evil? I wasn’t so sure. For every cult member or willing lackey, weren’t there bound to be at least one or two that were just working at a company for the salary and benefits? That weren’t worried about spreading pain and death as a means of ascension, that didn’t worship at the feet of the monsters that were entering our world? No, they were concerned about their children doing well in school or their wife finding that lump last month. They were living normal lives full of joy and sorrow, many unaware that they were part of a machine that had far darker goals beyond raising profits and increasing market share.
I’d mentioned this to Patrick as we were preparing to come here—to the place Tattersall calls Alpha. He’d nodded, his eyes weary but still penetrating as he met mine. I expected him to get angry or give me an articulate justification that would allay my fears and guilt, but he did neither. Instead, he reached over to pat my hand in what might have seemed grandfatherly if I hadn’t seen all I had in the last few hours.
“You’re right, Janie. Of course you’re right.” His voice was even and controlled as he spoke—not the cold tone he’d had while questioning the survivors in the first two buildings, but still remote and impenetrable. It was the voice I’d imagine he’d use if he was in the middle of a surgery or telling a patient some harsh but necessary truth. A voice that didn’t try to argue or convince, because the path had already been set. I wondered, not for the first time, if he could somehow read my mind, and suppressed a small shiver as he gave me a thin, joyless smile.
“What we’re doing…I have no delusions that this is some righteous cause. Yes, we’re hurting the House and Tattersall, perhaps gravely, and by extension we may be hurting that thing that took Jason, wherever it may be. But we are, as you pointed out, no doubt hurting people that are at least marginally innocent in the process. In other circumstances, I might wrestle with the morality of what we’re doing—in truth, I have in the past. I’ve known about the Tattersall connection and these corporate sites for some time, and one of the reasons I’ve never moved against them is because of the very concern you’re raising. Another reason was that such an open act of aggression and destruction will have consequences for me…for us…as well. This isn’t a killing blow, and they will have much greater motivation to hunt us down now than they did when we served as just an annoyance or even a boogeyman.”
His expression hardened as he went on. “But they came into my home. And they took my grandson. They tried to kill both of us. So the price I have to pay? It doesn’t seem very steep any more, and though I do feel a great deal of guilt that you’re wrapped up in it now, if I’m honest, your resources and people have made it possible for me to put the plan into action faster and more effectively than I could have done on my own. I care for you, Janie, and will do what I can to keep you safe, but I respect you too much to lie and say I wish you weren’t here. Instead, I’ll just thank you again and abide by whatever level of involvement you wish to have.” He glanced back at me, his face kinder but no softer as he gave me a small shrug of apology.
Swallowing, I nodded. “I know. I knew what I was agreeing to when I sought you out. And I’m with you as long as it takes to find Jason. It’s just…We’re not the only ones paying the price for what we’re doing.” We were standing at the entrance to what Jason had always called the Batcave, likely for the last time. The last van carrying Dr. Barron’s equipment and accumulated data to remote storage had left five minutes earlier.
Patrick nodded. “Are you familiar with Ospreys, Janie?”
Frowning, I gave an uncertain nod. “I know they’re birds, right?” It was my turn to shrug. “Sorry, not much of a bird person.”
He smiled at that. “They’re very interesting birds. Raptors, like an eagle or hawk, though they are different in several respects. Most of their prey is fish, but they aren’t water birds like a duck or a crane.” He held out a finger, slowly twirling it as he lowered his arm. “No, instead, once they find what they’re after, they hover in a downward spiral, drifting closer and closer to the water until they can reach the fish.” Patrick’s hand closed into a fist. “But it’s always at great risk. While they can swim to a degree, they can’t survive in water too long. If they get too wet, they may get waterlogged and drown. And their talons are similar to fish hooks—great for getting a grip, but sometimes hard to get free again. If they go after something that is too heavy or large and aren’t able to get free, they get pulled down with it and die.”
Rubbing his face, he went on. “The osprey takes these risks because it is the only way to survive. The only way to provide for those it cares about and protect them from a world that will happily kill them otherwise. Again and again, it will fall. It will hunt in an alien world that can easily kill it. And it will try its best to come back up again.” Patrick gestured at the warehouse around them. “You know, I named this shell company Jager as a bit of a joke. From the German word for hunter. I’ve always viewed myself as a doctor and scientist first, though I always knew hunting and killing were at the core of what I…what we…do.”
“But now isn’t the time for curiosity and theorizing. Or moralizing and self-doubt. We are falling. Spiraling downward with well-laid plans and good intentions, but falling nonetheless. And we may die in the process. Or if not die, at least not come back successful or whole.” His jaw flexed slightly. “But our only chance of success is to fully commit. To dive as deep as we have to and not let go until it is done. There is no time for equivocation and no room for weakness dressed as mercy. Because I have no way of saving those that might deserve it, and this is our only path to protect ourselves and get Jason back.” Patrick’s eyes shined for a moment, and he let out a deep breath as he met my gaze again. “The dangers we face, and how what we’re doing may change us, that’s the price we have to pay. The price we earn. The death and horror we’re bringing with us—well, that price has been earned as well.” I felt my chest flutter as his eyes bored into mine. “And they’ll pay it. Until we get Jason back. Until they stop hurting and killing in the name of their insane beliefs. Until the people and things that have stalked my family and yours and so many others for so long are gone. Whatever that takes.”
Swallowing, I nodded. “I understand. And I’m still with you. I just…I’ll sit out going in Alpha if that’s okay. It’s just all…it’s been a lot.”
Patrick reached out and gave my arm a light squeeze, his expression warmer. “I know. And I’m sorry. Just a couple of backup guns should be enough, though if you’ll wait in the car just in case something comes up.” He frowned slightly. “Even with all you’ve told us and all I’ve learned over the years, there are still parts of this world you know more about than I do.” He glanced out toward where Lewis waited in the car. “Plus, these are your people. I don’t know them, or them me. And they’ll be far less likely to beg-off or turn if you’re nearby.” He gave my arm another squeeze. “If that’s okay.”
I nodded again. “I’m here until it’s done.”
Lewis was taking us down a backroad to where we would meet another car. There Patrick could change clothes and we could use the new vehicle to go somewhere the Claw couldn’t track us. He’d sat silent for a time as twilight began to fade, and while I still had many questions about what he might have found, I left him alone for the time being. He needed to digest his guilt and grief, and so did I. There was something almost hypnotic about being in the black and swaying darkness of the car as we trundled down a forgotten country road. In more ways than one, I didn’t know where the path before us led.
“There was a message.”
I jumped at Patrick’s sudden declaration from the shadows beside me. “Oh? From…Jason or the Gravekeeper?” I hated to even mention the thing, but we both knew it was likely the worst of many dangers Jason must be facing.
There was a pause, and Patrick’s voice was tight with controlled emotion as he went on. “Jason, I think. Based on what I found, and didn’t find, I think one of two things has happened. Either the Gravekeeper has taken Jason somewhere else, or they left separately. If Jason was killed here, we likely would have found some evidence of that, though I can’t foreclose the possibility entirely. If Jason had escaped through conventional means, he would have most likely had to kill his way through most of that building, and I saw no signs of that either.”
“So that leaves less conventional means of travel. Like the girl who brought those men to our front door.” His voice was steadier now, focused on traveling down the corridors of the problem rather than the fears and feelings that always trailed just a step behind him. “I found what I think are the girl’s remains in a holding cell in the basement. And in the same room, the message that I feel certain is from Jason.”
I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “What? What was it?”
“Just a single word, written in blood.” He sounded so desolate as he spoke in the dark, and I wasn’t sure he was even really registering my questions, but I pressed on further.
“What, Patrick? Where did he go? What did the message say?”
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Credits
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