Shifting Life

48. One of Their Own

It was late afternoon. Light had begun to fade. The blue sky turning whiter before the darkness began to bleed in. The temperature was falling. Somewhere in the vicinity birds sang. The low rumble from the freeway overpass close by reminded Jacklyn that meanwhile, only a block away, regular people were doing their regular commute and probably never even heard of Svartalves.

It wasn't fair.

She was in way over her head, her senses absorbing more of the darkness from the dark looming future with every step.

"You're the Herald of Doom. They won't play fair. They're trying to stop the end of the world. They'll do anything. Don't let their suggestions leak into your head."

It sounded easy enough. In reality it was damn hard. Her courage was crumbling under the weight of all the possible ways this could go wrong.

Craven pulled out the walkie-talkie, but kept it in his hand at thigh level. The plan was that people watching them would assume they were talking to each other, not to an accomplice through a brick-sized piece of old plastic.

"Where are you, Gabe? Copy."

When they see you coming, the Svartalves will regroup to stop you from leaving the building. They'll use every man they have."

Gabe's voice crackled with static surprise, "Sixth floor stair case. The guard just left."

Jacklyn couldn't believe it either. Craven had been right about everything so far. She wasn't sure if it was a good sign, or something she should be worried about.

They'd practiced once in the sauna. Gabe had put on the visor and pulled on the gauzy, transparent plastic suit. He didn't put his arm through the right sleeve. The suit was roomy enough that he could hold the walkie-talkie inside it.

He pushed the button. "Copy?"

"You see him too, don't you?" Craven muttered to Jacklyn.

She nodded. Gabe, proudly dressed up in a plastic bag, was standing right in front of her.

"It's not about seeing," Gabe grumbled over the walkie-talkie. "It's about sensing. Do you feel me?"

Jacklyn closed her eyes. She had no problem picking up the feels of Craven, or even the seven grumpy feral cats pacing the perimeter looking to throw them out.

Feels registered pretty much like heat detection, in her opinion. Tangled bundles of energy that reached out tentatively toward her own energy feelers, responding in accordance with the laws of emo static only someone like Gabe would understand.

There was no sign of Gabe being in the room feels-wise. None.

Jacklyn opened her eyes. There he was. Excited.

"But they will see you," she said. "Explain what's so great about the suit."

Gabe explained like a geek. He might as well have been speaking Marsian.

Craven translated.

"Svartalves evolved underground, in the dark. This coven only broke their confines a little while back. They depend on sensing way more than most. They're like moles. They're mostly blind."