Haven- Agent 51 Page 4

  Rylan slowly examined the wound some more. The large gash was hollow and swollen. He would have to be careful not to open it again. He needed Talus, but where was his staff? He turned to see if maybe Talus was behind him when he felt the sharp pain again.

  “Talus,” he said in a raspy gasp. “Ta—”

  He didn’t even have the strength the word.

  Rylan gritted his teeth in frustration. Nao had been so quick that he hadn’t even seen her until it was too late. He only remembered the pain and then … nothing. He had woken up here, in this hellhole.

  That’s what happens when you’re caught off guard by some unknown species, he thought to himself. He could not believe how badly the mission had turned out. Not only had the enemy captured him, but he was wounded too. And then there was Zeek. Rylan grimaced at the thought. He had been in several tight situations with Demetrius in the past, but that was just it—he’d always had Demetrius to fall back on. Rylan had relied on Demetrius to make the right call, to get them home safe and sound. All he’d had to do was follow orders. Just as Zeek had followed his. But, unlike Demetrius, Rylan had failed Zeek. There would be no homecoming for him. Instead, his name would be added to the floating memorial in the Great Hall of the Majesty as one of the fallen. Rylan stared down at the floor as he took in a deep, pained breath and closed his eyes.

  “Forgive me …” he whispered.

  He took a moment to gather his thoughts before looking up again. When he did, his eyes fell to the same beam of light he had noticed earlier. This time he followed the light to its source. It was not coming from a wall as he had thought earlier, but from a large keyhole in the center of a stone door.

  For the first time, Rylan took notice of his surroundings. The cell walls were tall and made of a dark stone. Pools of murky water gathered on the dank floor and in the corners of the room.

  Rylan’s eyes shifted back to the stone door that kept him captive. What was beyond the confines of this cell, he wondered. And where were his captors?

  He contemplated this, thinking back to his training. A Keeper was taught that there were always two outcomes to every dire situation: one in which you live and the other in which you don’t. It was that simple, but patience, above all, was the greatest weapon. Used correctly, it allowed you to analyze, strategize, and execute a plan with precise accuracy. He needed to focus and evaluate the situation so he could control the outcome. He would need patience now more than ever to turn what lay behind that door into freedom.

  But first the most crucial step was getting to his feet. You can’t escape if you can’t walk, he told himself. Rylan took in a deep breath, bit down on his lip, and slowly turned over onto his knees. The pain came quickly, ripping across his chest and down into his back. It was like being stabbed all over again. Rylan threw his head back in agony and the metallic taste of blood flooded his mouth. He slowly stood, bracing himself against the wall, arms shaking.

  “Aaaahhh,” he cried out as he fell forward, writhing in pain.

  With his cheek pressed firmly against the wall, he took in short, controlled breaths and steadied himself once more. The ghastly odor became more intense the longer he stayed there, and Rylan desperately looked around to see where it might be coming from. He saw nothing at first, but then his eyes caught the silhouette of a figure huddled in the corner of the room. Rylan strained his eyes to see, but there was not enough light to make out anything clearly. He swallowed and, with his mouth dry, he spoke.

  “Who … who’s there?” he asked in a ghastly tone. He found it difficult to swallow. Rylan waited in silence for a reply, but no answer came.

  “Answer me!” he said and coughed. The dry choking sound reverberated around the room.

  He waited, squirming in pain as the minutes passed, but the figure remained silent. Perhaps it was no longer alive. That would explain the smell, he thought. Then again, maybe it was alive, only it was injured and unconscious. There was only one way to find out.

  Rylan limped toward the huddled mass, taking small, calculated steps, inching his way along the edge of the room. The pungent smell grew stronger the closer he got until he was forced to stop and lean his head against the wall. The cold stone felt good against his forehead. Sweat trickled down his neck, and there was a sour, metallic taste in his mouth. He needed to keep moving. There was something or someone in this room with him. He needed to know what that was. Rylan turned and looked at the figure again, only it looked more like a jumbled mass and less like a person the closer he got to it. It had not moved or stirred; it simply sat there, as if it was waiting on him. Rylan pursed his lips.

  “Then I will come to you,” he muttered and pressed on. Finally he stepped into the corner, and for the first time he could clearly see the scene in front of him.

  “NO!” he cried and stepped back against the wall. He felt tears well up in his eyes as he stared at not one, but two dead bodies.

  “Nooooo!” he gasped, and fell to his knees.

  He felt his body tense up as pain exploded through his chest. He fell forward and threw his hands on the floor. He trembled and squeezed his eyes shut so tightly that he could feel the muscles in his face burn against the pain.

  But the pain was nothing compared to the agony that raged around inside his head.

  Everyone was dead. He had failed them. He had failed them all.

  Rylan sat back on his knees. He clasped his hands over his ears and began to rock back and forth. Images flashed through his mind—Zeek’s lifeless body, Nao’s bloodthirsty eyes peering through the darkness.

  It was too much. Rylan’s eyes shot open and he fell back against the wall. He blew out a series of short breaths, trying desperately to gain control of himself, and his gaze moved wildly around the room until it finally settled once again on his two dead comrades.

  The decayed body of the pilot was barely recognizable. It was as if something had eaten away at him. Only small patches of skin remained on his tattered bones. If it had not been for the Majesty’s crest on his torn uniform, Rylan would not have known who he was.

  Zeek, on the other hand, sat motionless with his back against the wall. His skin had turned a pale gray, and his neck was tilted at an unnatural angle. Rylan’s stomach churned at the sight until he willed himself to look away. As he stared intently down at the floor, he noticed the light that streamed in from the large keyhole had begun to flicker. Someone was coming.

  Rylan quickly shuffled back into the corner of his cell and pulled his knees to his chest. There he waited, listening closely and staring at the solitary light. Was it a beacon of hope or a warning of the treachery yet to come? The footsteps he could hear in the distance told Rylan that he would soon find out.

  He watched, sweating as he clasped his knees closer together until the small flicker of light vanished. Darkness enveloped the room, and his eyes became confused at what they were seeing, but he continued to stare at the door in anticipation. The increased adrenaline had every hair on his body standing on end, and the darkness amplified the sound of footsteps. They were light, female perhaps. The cadence of their strides differed; there were three visitors, he was sure of it.

  All at once, the footsteps stopped.

  Rylan waited, but the door did not open. There was no sound, only his breathing, rapid and unhinged. He felt his strength wain, demoralized by the silence.

  What are they waiting for?

  Rylan knew they were standing directly in front of the door. If only he could speed up time so he could face this head on. Knowing they were there, waiting, was madness. They were taunting him.

  “You're alive.”

  Rylan flinched at Nao’s voice. Her tone was calm and beguiling all at once.

  “That’s good. Very good,” she mused.

  Nao moved from in the front of the keyhole and the light streamed in again, shining on a septic pool of water on the stone floor.

  “Hmm. Leo, I think,” she said and took a deep breath. “Yessss, that's it.” She exhale
d heavily. “I see a dark onyx in you. Quite rare. Quite. Rare. Indeed.”

  “Who … what are you?” Rylan asked. His voice shook as he spoke. He wanted to sound brave and in control, like he had done this sort of thing before, but the truth was he was terrified, and any fool could tell that.

  “Oh, no, no. The real question is who are you, my young Leo. Who. Are. You?”

  Rylan remained silent, staring at the keyhole. How did she know that he was a Leo? And onyx, that was his birthstone. Rylan narrowed his eyes. What was she getting at?

  “Come now,” she continued, “how can we get to know one another if you don't share?”

  Rylan was hesitant to speak at first, but curiosity got the best of him. “I think I asked you first,” he said.

  Nao sighed. “Very well. I am the one who holds the key to your cell. The one who will judge you. The one who will execute you, should you not tell me what I need to know … Leo.”

  Rylan straightened himself against the wall and winced in pain. He took in a long, labored breath, knowing what he said next could cost him his life. But what he didn’t say could possibly save others. He was an Elementalist, a Keeper of the Majesty, and it was his duty to honor his oath, to keep the faith.

  “I am Agent 51 of the Majesty,” he said flatly.

  Nao sighed again. “Oh, you are much more than that, Agent 51, I assure you.” She inhaled as if she was breathing him in. “Yes … there it is, the intellectual explorer with the …” she paused as she searched for just the right words, “the ability to live on many mental levels. You’re innovative and a non-conformist, I see. Those can be very powerful qualities, Agent 51. I think you might be rather extraordinary and quite the adversary, should you be allowed to live.”

  Rylan placed his hand over his chest; his wound was burning again. He wasn't sure if it was the injury itself or if infection was starting to set in.

  “It’s painful, isn’t it?” Nao said. “I can help you with that, but first I will need something from you, Agent 51.”

  Rylan gritted his teeth and stared at the back of the door. How did she know what he was feeling? Was she watching him? He scanned the room again, but there were no cameras, no obvious surveillance. Just the four walls, himself, and his dead comrades.

  “What do you want from me?” Rylan asked, working to hide the pain in his voice.

  “Rumor has it that the Majesty is in the final stages of building a ship capable of cloaking itself to the point of complete invisibility. I would like to know the location of the hidden facility.”

  Rylan’s hand slid from his chest, and his mouth fell open. That base was top secret. The Majesty’s top scientists and engineers were located at the facility. If it were destroyed it would set the Majesty back decades in research and development, not to mention the hundreds of lives that would be lost in an all-out attack. The future of the Majesty depended on that facility and its team for a better life and a safer future. There was only a handful within the Majesty that even knew of the base; no one from the outside knew, let alone someone like Nao. The only reason Rylan was aware of the base was because he was part of the Keeper detail sent to secure the plans for the Apparition engines.

  Rylan’s chest tightened. He could not give Nao what she wanted, even if it meant forfeiting his life to keep it secret.

  “I don't know what you are talking about,” he said firmly.

  Blinding pain erupted in his chest and back, forcing Rylan to scream out in agony. He fell forward on his hands, his nails scraping the stone floor as he clenched his fists.

  “Don’t lie to me, Agent 51!” Nao said loudly. “Lies are something I will not tolerate!”

  Rylan gasped for breath, and sparks of light flickered around his fingertips and feet as his emotions consumed him.

  “I’m not lying, I don’t know what you are talking about!” he screamed.

  The pain surged again, and Rylan fell face down on the murky, wet floor. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he felt himself starting to lose consciousness.

  But suddenly the pain stopped, and Rylan closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath. The smell of something burnt lingered in the air. It entwined with the smell of rotting corpses. It must be his gloves, he thought. He had no doubt burned them off his hands while in pain.

  “Come now, tell me the truth, and I promise the pain will stop.” Nao was in control again, her voice steady. Rylan thought she almost sounded sincere for a moment.

  It took several minutes before Rylan had the energy to speak.

  “I'm telling you. I. Know. Nothing!” he screamed out.

  Agony tore at every fiber in his body again. He clenched his fists, his muscles trembled and his body convulsed. He rolled onto his back, the wound on his chest ripped open, and he began to bleed freely.

  Water sloshed back and forth across the cell floor as blue and green sparks exploded wildly around the room.

  “Your stubbornness will not serve you well, Agent 51!” Nao said, striking the outside of the door with her fist. “Perhaps you need time to think things over. But, I assure you, pain will be forthcoming should you not comply with my demands.” Suddenly the pain stopped.

  Rylan gasped as he stared up at the stone ceiling. He could feel the warm blood on his neck that had trailed up from the wound in his chest.

  “Talus,” he whispered. But he could barely get that out before he coughed, spewing blood into the air. The room began to spin, and his vision blurred until he saw no more.

  Chapter 6

  “Wake.”

  Rylan’s eyes flew open, but he was still half asleep when he lifted his head from the cold floor. The room was dark, except for the single light that shone through the keyhole. He looked groggily around the room and noticed there was a plate of bread and water near the door. There was also no trace of Zeek or the pilot. He was all alone. Rylan looked down at his chest. A new bandage stretched across his wound. His gloves were gone too, replaced with dressings carefully entwined around each finger.

  “Eat, Agent 51. You will need your strength,” Nao said softly beyond the door.

  Rylan looked to the keyhole and then back down at the food. His stomach was in knots; he was starving. He licked his dry lips in anticipation, crawled to the door, and began to ravage the bread and gulp down the water.

  “You see,” she said coyly, “this is how things can be going forward, as long as you cooperate.”

  Rylan pulled the bread from his mouth and looked up. He could see Nao’s silhouette through the keyhole. She was pacing back and forth.

  “I believe the human Aristotle once said that memory is the scribe of the soul.” She stopped, and Rylan watched her look up in thought. “I like this Aristotle,” she said and began pacing again. “As humans you are born with great capabilities, but in order to achieve one’s potential you must call upon your inner strength, your inner conviction, and be willing to sacrifice certain things along the way. Each choice affects what you will become. Even the smallest choice is important, because over time its cumulative effect is enormous.”

  Rylan tore into the bread again as he watched and listened.

  “The road to becoming an Elementalist must’ve been difficult, and I’m sure there were setbacks along the way. But that’s like anything else, isn’t it, Agent 51? If being an Elementalist is your goal, it must be remade every time you fail.”

  Rylan grabbed his cup, sat back, and drank until the cup was empty. Then he placed his eye to the keyhole again and tore at the bread once more.

  “So you see, it’s time for you to make a choice, time for you to find that inner strength and conviction. Time for you to tell me the truth.”

  Nao stopped, turned, and looked directly at Rylan.

  “We know you were not alone. We know that it was the Majesty that took out Cyrus Kan’s snipers. So it is only fair that I speak the truth. We have captured your pitiful band of rebels, and we will execute them, all of them! No one is coming for you, and you will die inside
these four walls if you do not tell me what I want to know.”

  Rylan stopped chewing and pulled away from the keyhole. He let the bread fall from his hand as he slumped against the wall. So much death, he thought, and soon it would be his turn.

  He heard Nao step closer to the door.

  “Tell me, Agent, where’s the Majesty’s hidden base? Where are they building the cloaked ship? Tell me, and you can feast like a king, I promise you.”

  Rylan stared at the empty cup on the floor and licked his parched lips. But he couldn’t tell her, he couldn’t. He would not betray the Majesty.

  “Answer me!” she said more forcefully.

  Rylan looked up at the keyhole, “I don’t know.”

  “Lies!” she shouted.

  His body immediately jerked back, his head slamming into the stone wall. Pain surged through his body, and his muscles seized up tightly. The hole in his chest burned as if something were clawing its way out. He fell forward and he cradled himself, cringing and shaking in a fetal position on the floor.

  “Where, Agent, where is it? Tell me!” Nao shouted in frustration.

  Rylan lay helpless, writhing in pain.

  “The pain can stop. Quickly now, and this can all be over with!” Rylan thought he could hear a hint of excitement coming through the door, but he didn't have much time to focus on that with the excruciating pain he was in.

  Violent tremors rocked Rylan’s body, and he screamed out in agony as water began to levitate from the cell floor. “I. Am. Agent. 51!” he cried.

  Another wave of pain shot through his chest, up his neck and into his head, and veins of lightning exploded into the air above his body.

  “Tell me!” Nao demanded. “Where is the Majesty’s base?”

  Water swirled and the wind howled in protest as the fallen Keeper fell victim to his own emotions.

  “I. Am. Agent—” But his words failed him. Helpless, he lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. The pain had suddenly stopped—Nao probably knew she was close to killing him. But it was too late. He was dying. He could feel it. This creature had eradicated every ounce of his fortitude, and now there was nothing left. He was a prisoner of war, and he would die like one. Rylan closed his eyes and listened as the wind in the room died out to nothing more than a whisper. His mind began to drift. He felt drops of cool water brush his cheeks, and he smiled. It was raining; he had made it rain.