The Passing

Chapter Thirty

Jane tugs at my arm, her words far away despite her closeness in reality. My eyes find Tatum as the world around us hardly moves at all, both of us locked in place. A million thoughts run through my head, all of them demanding an explanation. This can't be right. My father was loyal to my mother. And even if he chose to betray her, he wouldn't do something as awful as leave behind his child or the woman that carried them. All I've known to be true throughout my whole life... was it all a lie?

Jane's icy hands grasp both sides of my face, pulling me back into reality just long enough to unroot my feet from the ground. "We have to go. Now." she orders, her entire demeanor changed. Grabbing my wrist, she hulls me to my feet, looping an arm around my waist as she leads me away like a lost sheep. Tatum stands, unable to move. Their hands drop to their sides as their shoulders sag. Digging my heels into the ground, I force Jane to stop, whipping back to face Tatum.

"You knew?" Tatum whispers, eyes dropping to the ground. "You knew he was dead. All these years. You knew he had a family. That I had more family out there."

"I didn't know he was dead until James came with his group." their mother shakes her head. "I wanted to tell you about them. I didn't know how."

"You just talk, Alondra." Tatum shouts, frustration and betrayal thick in their tone. Rushing a hand through the air, they back pedal towards the forest. "When they come back for you because you didn't keep up your end? Don't come looking for me."

The lines in Alondra's face deepen as a frown pulls her features down. Tatum turns at once, jogging straight towards Jane and I without taking even a second to look back. Jane and I stand together in silence, not sure what to do or say. There is so much I want to say, or ask, but the words fail me as Tatum pushes past us, their expression stone cold. Honestly, I don't think I can blame them.

Despite Tatum walking a few paces ahead, Jane leads us through the dense forest. Stumbling over the overgrowth, something that once brought me comfort, like I know what I'm doing, suddenly feels unreal. Almost as if everything I touch, every leaf my fingertips brush, is all merely a figment of my imagination. Nothing is familiar. Not even the blue grey hue of the sky as the rain continues rolling in. Jane's hand remains intertwined in mine, our palms locked together tight. Single-handedly this is the only thing keeping me anchored in reality. She's terrified too.

Before my mind can catch up with our surroundings, we return to the caravan, where Azrael waits for us outside. "What's going on?" He asks, brows furrowed and laced with worry when he takes just one look at Tatum and I . I can imagine we both look like we've seen ghosts.

Jane shakes her head, releasing my hand. "We will have to explain that later, right now we need to leave."

The corners of his mouth turn down, and he sucks his teeth. "They're already coming aren't they?" he asks, staring off into the trees. Jane nods, and he quickly turns to open the doors of his caravan.

"Wait," Jane blurts, stepping forward and touching his arm. Azrael looks back, confused as his hand rests on the door's handle. "I think Alondra told them about you too."

His expression flattens and his hand drops to his side. "There isn't really much else out here." he sighs, swallowing hard as his attention circles around us. "Either the brotherhood destroyed it or took control. The only safety I had was my van."

"Okay, so what do we do?" Jane's voice breaks with desperation.

As the words form on his tongue, the sound of the rain is overpowered, outnumbered, by an ocean of moans and a symphony of a war drum. Azrael's face drops, his eyes shooting to me. All at once, Azrael grabs me, pulling me behind him so my backs to the caravan. Tatum staggers towards us, gun raised in defense of what comes. Jane stands between them, forcing her breathing to steady as she mimics their stances. The drum picks up, but the ocean seems to cease, not inching closer but not gaining distance either. Sweat accumulates in my palms, fear threatening to make me bolt. Save yourself, so they don't have to save you.

But, no. I can't run. Not this time, when the people around me have each put their lives on the line without hesitation. It's time to fight back, to save them. Pushing from the caravan, I firmly plant myself beside Azrael and nudge him softly. He quickly looks over, his tension easing for just a millisecond. I'm not going anywhere.

Not this time.

Four yards in front of us, a large man, skin covered head to toe in leather armor stomps out of the trees, several men emerging and forming a line around us. Azrael reaches out for my hand, squeezing tightly. Immediately, as if his thoughts are my own, panic sets in, an overwhelming sense of fight or flight drowning out any thought of reason.

The large man laughs, a sinister sound from the pit of his large belly. "Azrael, why what an honor to be in your presence." He bows mockingly as the men that stand beside him snicker along. He starts towards us. Azrael drops his hand, pushing his hand into his pocket. The man steps right up to Azrael, inching so close their noses almost touch. He looks down on him, sneering at him like a wounded animal. Then, his smile drops, and so do all the grins of the men around us. "You will pay for what you're betrayal." he hisses, spit spewing from his dried lips.

Azrael doesn't budge. Eyes stay focused forward, as if entranced in a different reality. The man turns on his heels, walking down the line examining each of us. He stops before Tatum, lifting his chin high as he sizes them up. Tatum is no giant, but if they've really been watching as long as they have claimed, they know what Tatum is capable of. But their strength doesn't phase him.

"Elijah Winsly," he baritone voice rips through my chest. I haven't heard that name in a long time, but now it's different. I don't think it will ever be the same. "You look much like him, you know." He says, poking a finger through their hair. They swiftly jerk away from reach, his hand frozen in the air right where it was before. He slowly drops his hand, eyes narrowing as a sickly grin stretches over his face. "Act just like him too." He starts back down the line, each step heavily reverberating through the ground. He moves past Jane and Azrael and slowly stops before me. My heart hammers loudly in my ears, my throat swells. His eyes linger over me before shifting back to Tatum. "But, you wouldn't know that. No better than a bastard."

Tatum lunges for him, but his men are too quick. Several pairs of large hands wrap around their arms, forcing them back in line. The man shakes his head.

"Usually I would use you as an example by my own hand, but I have something better. Now," he turns back to Azrael, yellow teeth glistening through his parted lips. "You know how this is going to go. Don't fight or you'll get double." Every muscle in Azrael's body tenses up at once, his feet subconsciously forcing him back. The man snaps, and someone limps forward with a black bag in their hand. Someone forces me forward. I yelp out as hands wrap around me, pinning me in place so I cannot move an inch. A vile and syringe is pulled from the bag, and another man steps forward to prepare it. My body goes cold. Azrael thrusts forward, eyes ready to tear apart the hands that hold me back.

"Zeus, No! Give it to me! Please! Give it to me instead!" He begs, eyes wide as he fights their strong hold. "I'll take it." tears slip from his lashes as he clenches his jaw. The man in leather steps between us, squeezing his chin in his hand as he forces his attention back to him.

"You think it's that easy? After all the hell you put us through to find you?"

"Take me." Azrael fires back. My stomach somersaults and bile burns my throat. The man gripping his chin cocks his head to the side. "Take me instead. I'll go and I won't run."

He can't do that.

"Oh we are taking you. And her. And your friends if they succumb to my test. But this?" Zeus spits, jetting out an open palm to the one holding the syringe. He shoves it into Azrael's chest, releasing his chin as the others drop their hold. "You're giving it to her."

Azrael pales instantly, sweat and rain dripping down the sides of his face. His eyes find mine, so full of sorrow and remorse. A voice in my head whispers, as if carried by the wind. I have a plan.

The world around me shuts out, and I stare back into Azrael's grey eyes. He looks between Zeus and I, until finally he zeros in on me. He readies the syringe in his right hand, inching closer and closer. His pupils narrow, and his voice carries on in my head. I just need you to trust me.

Impetuously, he springs forward, stabbing the needle into the crook of my neck. A thousand shards of glass rush into my bloodstream, unforgivingly wrenching through every inch of my body. My jaw rips open and an unearthly sound explodes from my mouth. Every limb goes numb as a heavy leaden blanket quickly overtakes me and envelopes me in it's ominous abyss.