Kelly Meding - Requiem for the Dead

"He must have gone out here," Wyatt said. He listened a moment. "No obvious voices or sounds."

"Doesn't mean there's no ambush waiting," Baylor said. He felt along the door's frame, testing for wires or trips.

I checked for the Break and found its power waiting. Whatever Vale had used to block my access, he'd apparently taken it with him. I nearly offered to teleport out, but it was a stupid idea. I had no clue what was outside that door and fusing my legs with a car fender was not on today's agenda.

Baylor and Wyatt shooed us back a few paces, and I took a defensive position in front of Marcus and Milo. Wyatt stood to the left of the door, Baylor to the right. Wyatt pressed the emergency bar down. Nothing squealed. Pushed the door open a few inches. Sunlight streamed inside. Wyatt sniffed the air.

So far, so good.

He pushed a little more.

Baylor inched forward and peeked outside. "Looks like a parking lot, small one, back end of an alley type," he said. "No cars. Older buildings, too, unkempt."

"Any ideas on location?" I asked.

"Nothing I recognize, but I'd lay good money we're close to Mercy's Lot." He nodded at Wyatt, who let the door shut. "Okay, there's a plank fence straight ahead, about twenty feet, but no cover. Wyatt and I will go out first and make sure we aren't being watched. When we're sure it's clear, the three of you follow on my signal."

I glanced behind me at Marcus, who nodded his agreement. Milo ignored all of us, swallowed whole by the pain that was his entire world. "Understood," I said to Baylor.

Our trio backed deeper into the hallway. Wyatt and Baylor shared a look. Wyatt shoved the door open wide. Its hinges squealed. Sunlight flashed in my eyes, and I blinked hard. Heard an odd popping sound, and then the door slammed shut again. A second thud.

As the orange dots disappeared from my vision, two things became clear: Wyatt still stood to the left of the closed emergency door, and Baylor was down.

Flat on his back on the ground. Eyes wide open. A red hole centered perfectly in his forehead. Blood pooling around his head.

"Adrian?" Wyatt asked.

Oh God, no.

I didn't have to check his pulse to know Adrian Baylor was dead, but I did anyway. Knelt down and pressed my fingertips to his throat. Nothing. A perfect storm of shock and grief formed in my throat and slowly choked me, preventing any real tears. I closed his eyelids, the skin still so warm.

This can't be happening.

"It was a fucking sniper," Wyatt said.

The thick rasp of his voice made me look at him. He'd slumped to the floor next to the door, as devastated as I'd ever seen him. He'd worked with Baylor in the Triads for years, him and Kismet. I wanted to comfort Wyatt, to pull him into my arms and hold him until the shock went away. But Baylor would still be dead, Milo needed a doctor, and Vale was getting further away.

Action first, grief later.

"Stay here, I'll be right back," I said.

No one argued with me. I ran back down the short hallway and poked around until I found some stairs. Up to the next level. More offices, just as empty and dusty. The thickness of the closed up air made my eyes itch and my nose tingle with the need to sneeze. I navigated my way back to where I guessed the emergency exit to be and found a boarded up window.

The boards had enough cracks for me to peek through. To see the empty alley parking lot below and the buildings around us. We were downtown, somewhere near the train tracks and Black River, if my guess was right. The back of this building faced a long, empty alley, and at the end of it was another brick building and a nice flat roof. Perfect place for a sniper to lay in wait and pick us off one by one. I studied the rooftop a section at a time until a small flash of light caught my attention. The kind of flash a scope makes when the sun hits the lens just right.

"Bingo, you fucker," I said.

Downstairs, Wyatt hadn't moved. Marcus had settled himself and Milo on the floor, and Marcus gave me an expectant look.

"I know where the sniper is," I said, scooping Baylor's gun off the floor. "I'm going to go kill him, then I'll be back for you guys."

My announcement broke through Wyatt's haze of shock. "What?" he asked.

"Just hang tight, please."

"Be careful."

"You know me."

"Be careful anyway."

I smiled, then closed my eyes. My emotional tap into the Break was loneliness. I imagined if it was Wyatt on the ground dead, a hole between his eyes, lost to me. Grief and loneliness clutched my heart and real tears stung my eyes. I latched onto the emotions and let them build. Pictured the alley beneath the other building, the empty pavement and shadows. Let the Break suck me in and rip me apart.

Teleporting hurt every single time I did it, and today was no exception. I hurtled through the magic of the Break and focused on that spot. Pulled out of the Break and came back in one piece. Tiny hammers pounded the inside of my skull. Acid bubbled up in my stomach. I doubled over, clutching my abdomen, and managed to not barf. As my mind and my eyes cleared, I took in the alley. The building two hundred feet away where my friends were waiting.

I circled what looked like a cheap apartment building until I found the fire escape. Climbed up and slowly, quietly ascended. Each squeal of rusty metal made my nerves fray a little bit more. Every step upward came with the expectation of another shot, this one blasting through my own skull. Four stories up to the roof.

The sniper was too confident in his hiding place, because he never heard me coming. I peeked over the edge and spotted him about twenty feet away from me. The barrel of his rifle was resting on the roof ledge, and his attention was fixed on the scope. I thumbed the safety off my borrowed gun, aimed, and fired.

The idiot was so surprised when I shot him in the calf that he let his rifle fall over the edge of the building. I kept my gun trained on his chest as I climbed over onto the roof. He stared at me with wide copper eyes. God, he was young. Looked about sixteen human years, which meant maybe four Therian years. Only a kid and still a murderer.

"Where's Vale?" I asked as I approached.

The teenage Felia started shaking.

"You just murdered a friend of mine, asshole, so don't think for a second I won't kill you, too."

"I don't know," he replied. "I swear, I don't. He told me to guard the door and to shoot anyone who wasn't one of ours."

"Do you know who I am?"

He shook his head so hard I thought he'd snap a vertebrae.

"So you do what Vale tells you without asking questions?"

"He's my cousin."

"And he's my enemy. I gotta tell you, kid, my enemies have a bad habit of dying."

He started crying. Actually fucking crying, and I almost felt sorry for the kid. Almost.

I loomed over him. "Your cousin is an idiot. I know he wants to murder Riley Dane, and I won't let that happen. So if you don't want every other surviving member of your family to die while I'm hunting Vale, you give me something useful."

"There's a house in Mercy's Lot," he replied through choking sobs. "452 Ashmont Road. We've met there a few times."

"Who lives there?"

"It's bank-owned now."

"Fine. Take the laces out of your shoes."

"Huh?"

"Now!"

He acquiesced. I used one lace to bind his wrists behind his back so tight his hands started turning red before I was done. The second I looped around his ankles. It wasn't ideal, especially for a Felia's strength, and I couldn't have him getting away. So for good measure, I shot him in the other calf. He screamed. I slammed the butt of my gun into the back of his head, and he slumped to the roof, unconscious.

I checked him for a cell phone and didn't find one. Teleporting back with him was going to hurt like hell, and I didn't have the energy for it. I'd have to hope he was still there later, after I got backup. I tapped into loneliness, into the Break, and teleported to the parking lot two hundred feet away. After the dizziness went away, I knocked hard on the exit door.