Black Magic - Chapter Ten: The Secrets Inside...
Chapter 10: The Secrets Inside...
At times like these, people often find themselves doing one of two things: praying to God and asking him for his protection, or cursing his name and asking him why he's dealt you such pain, so much more pain than anyone else on the planet. Well, I'm not the most religious man around, an atheist actually, so I'm not entirely certain how I should be feeling. Plus, I'm not so arrogant as to believe that I've had a harder time of things than anyone else; I know that that isn't true. But as I watched the speedometer continue to increase and thought about all of the people who were in pursuit of us right now, it dawned on me exactly how alone we were in this world. I almost wished that I believed in God, any deity at all, some omnipotent being in the sky who could hear my pleas and cries. Even if they didn't exist, at least the thought of them protecting me could give me some minuscule feeling of comfort. But no, I had to reject all forms of religion, choosing to believe that there was no such thing as a compassionate, benevolent, forgiving god or goddess; not in our suffering, miserable world anyway. I remember asking myself things like, "Would an empathetic God let people suffer? Would a compassionate God allow wars to be waged? Why would a kind God have killed my mother?" Now wasn't the time to start believing, not for the sake of false comfort. No, if I had to one day choose between believing or disbelieving, then I wanted my choice to be based on flawless facts and not disillusioned emotions.
Damn, I can be depressing.
"Dominic, I know that you must have so very many thoughts racing through your mind right now, but please believe me when I say this." Said a concerned Forte as he placed a tiny hand on my shoulder. "As sad as this situation is, it could have easily ended up much, much worse. You see..., you are very..., you have so much..., oh, I am not very good at wording these kinds of things... Well, let us simply say that you are 'special' in a variety of ways; some of these ways still a mystery to you yourself; and many bad things could have befallen us all should you have fallen into the hands of our unknown enemy."
I glanced at Zeke's lifeless body and wondered what was so fucking special about me, what was so amazing and astounding that others had to die just to protect the secret. I then wondered how things could have possibly ended up worse.
"What?" I questioned; not fully understanding what he was saying.
"Your body possesses special... qualities and traits..., ones that could be used to bring about some very catastrophic events." Answered my small friend. "I have not the permission to tell you anything further, for should you know the truth, I fear that you might blame yourself. Or even worse; in hopes of saving us from certain death, that you might try to make some sort of foolhardy deal or bargain with our pursuers."
And then I glanced at my discolored hand and winced. Dammit, it's true that there's something 'odd' about me, and I've been trying to put my finger on just what it was for the past couple of months, but I'd never once thought that it was something important enough to spur others to murder of my close friends in order to obtain. And didn't Dante tell me that it was a curse of some kind; a curse that could very well leave me trapped in the form of a big, mean, scaly dragon? Was someone trying to extract the curse itself from me and use its remaining residue to create yet more dragons?
That's a scary prospect...
"...You're saying that there's something about me that Norton and his thugs want?" I pondered aloud. "He did say that I had something in my possession; not that I had a clue as to what he was talking about." Fine, you caught me. That last one was a lie; I had a CLUE but no EVIDENCE to back it up. "But that's besides the point; you're saying that whatever I have, it's better to die and bury secret than to give it up?"
"Yes." Replied Forte bluntly. "Should you give yourself up, I am absolutely certain that our enemies will do whatever they must in order to extract what they need, whatever that may be, from your body and soul. As of now, we are in a position to assume that their extraction methods will also result in your death, regardless of how intact or whole you are when you again come into their possession. However, if you were to die in battle, hours before they would have a chance at dissecting you, then the secret that your body contains would likely die as well. Still, with the lethal force that our enemies have been employing, I cannot be too certain as to whether or not they do in fact need you alive; nor can I be certain that the secret lying within you would die along with you." Furrowing his brow, Forte sighed, "I must apologize, as these are all merely speculations."
Cupping my chin as the gears began turning in my head, I questioned, "So, what you're saying is that although we're not certain of what's within me, that we should assume it to be something REALLY bad, right? And that although we haven't the foggiest clue as to what would happen should I die before they could get their hands on it, that just the off chance that it would cease to be as a result is still a far better scenario than simply handing it over to them, correct?"
No words were needed as Forte simply nodded his hear in reply.
"This thing, or power, or whatever it is that's inside of me; it could really cause some apocalyptic-esque, world ending scenario to unfold?" I asked; my hands now quivering.
"Most certainly." He answered; the seriousness of his tone undermining his youthful image. "If you are still hesitant to believe, then simply ask your friend, the young man behind us, if what I said is true."
I turned my head and looked to see who sat behind me. Sitting in the back, with his eyes closed shut in concentration, was Alan. Ever the serious one, always focused and calm, I severely doubted that he would take the time to fabricate such a complicated, convoluted lie. He had other things to worry about; things more important than protecting me from some deep and convoluted truth about myself.
"Don't even bother asking, Dominic." Barked Alan; proving that he was in fact awake and ready to argue. "I myself still don't know the full story, in its entirety, but even if I did, there would be very little that I'd be allowed to tell you. I have my orders, dammit, and my duties as an acting member of Icewulf that I must fulfill. As it has already been stated, there is some sort of mysterious power laying dormant inside of you; that's both the most that I know and the most that I could tell you in the event that I did know more. My orders are to get you to safety and to maintain your current level of ignorance involving any of the aforementioned knowledge."
"C'mon, do you really expect me to accept an answer like that?" I retorted spitefully. "You can't tell me anything at all?"
"Didn't I just tell you?" The big guy shot back. "I don't know anything other than what you and I have both already been told, and even if I did, I couldn't tell you. I'm your friend, yes, but I'm also a soldier on a mission. I have to complete my mission at all costs and that includes keeping you in the dark about your innate abilities. I'm sorry."
And then that was when Alan suddenly lurched forward and started coughing up blood. He hacked and wheezed violently, gripping his throat with one hand and his chest with the other. His eyes shut immediately and refused to open as his inhaling and exhaling became more rapid. I'd seen him have one of these attacks once before, but it wasn't something that I wanted to see ever again. I especially didn't want to see him suffer such a moment of weakness when I had previously identified him as the strongest member of our group, possibly our leader. It's tough watching your leader suffer, because that impacts the moral of the entire team. And our team couldn't afford a drop in moral, not now.
"Really? After all of the running, the brawling, and the bullets; it waits 'till now to take affect?" Alan grumbled. "I guess I'm lucky; really, really lucky."
I didn't want to think that Alan survived off of luck alone. He's powerful, I'd seen his power with my own two eyes. If someone as strong as him had survived because they were lucky enough to throw the dice just one more time, what chance did I have at living through this whole ordeal?
"I'm sorry, Alan." I said as I nervously looked away. "I know you're trying hard, I really do, and I know that you have to abide by the orders that you're given, but I just need someone to blame right now. I need someone to hate, someone that isn't just Norton. I tried to place the blame on you and that was wrong of me; I apologize. So if it's true that I have some sort of special power hidden deep within me, but it's too risky for me to know the truth about it, then so be it. All I really want to know is if what Forte said is true, if these mysterious abilities of mine are dangerous enough to merit dying for. Is what he said true?"
Alan steadied himself, brushed away the blood on his mouth, and responded with; "Yes, that much I can tell you is true. Lady Agatha told me as much herself; stating that we had to do everything in our power to get you far, far away from Norton and the people pulling his strings. We were even ordered to kill you, should the situation take a drastic turn for the worse."
"Agatha Hawthorne Rosemary ordered you to kill me if things spun out of your control?" I questioned. "That doesn't sound like the noblewoman I've heard so many legends and stories about."
"That's because we received THAT particular order from higher up the chain!" Shouted Kris from the front. "Lady Agatha would never give a thuggish command like that; she's above such things! She'd give her life before taking the life of an innocent!"
"Calm down, Kris; he was defending her too." Alan laughed; weakly smiling. "He's heard of her exploits; he isn't stupid."
"So, I'm all popular and famous now; even people I've never seen or met are calling for my death, huh?" I growled. "The bad guys want me for some reason, I still don't know, but I'm almost certain that I'd be dead before the end of the day anyway. The good guys want me alive, unless of course I end up being too much of a hassle, in which case I'll still be killed. And let's not forget that I could still be killed in the crossfire as the good guys and bad guys both fight to obtain me, almost as though I were some sort of polished trophy. Great."
"Well, complaining about everything isn't going to solve anything at all, now is it?!" Trumpeted Kris angrily; swatting one hand in my direction. "We're still in deep shit, we're still down one man, and we're still uncertain of our next course of action! If you really care about your sister, that child, and your friend's sacrifice, then you'll stop whining and moaning about your petty little problems! Yeah, the bad guys are after you, and yeah, we're not sure why, but who the fuck cares?! If you give a shit about any of us at all, then you'll learn to take life's lemons and make some fucking lemonade! Got it?!"
Kris startled me with that sudden verbal attack, and as harsh as it was, it was needed. I was being an ass, thinking only about myself when I should have been thinking about everyone and looking at the big picture. In short, I was spitting on Zeke's grave and pissing on his memory, because he sure as Hell didn't die just so I could whine, bitch, and moan about all of my problems and woes. I had to pull myself together and be a bigger man, if not for myself, then for everyone else. For my sister. For the girl. For Zeke, who was still in the van, watching and judging me. I might have felt like crying, but I'll be damned if my Mom's voice wasn't ringing out in my head saying, "Don't cry, dear. Big boys don't cry, do they?" Sure, she was wrong in that past assumption, even the biggest of men cry sometimes, but this was neither the time nor the place for it. I could cry my heart out into a plush, frilly pillow later like the child that I felt like; this was a time for ACTION. And oh, was I ready for that.