The Battle of Tyrell: Cynthia - Nicola Collings (ereader manga TXT) 📗

                                                                                                                *

                                “Zeke? Zeke!” there were footsteps beyond the door to the Archives. Ezekiel rolled his eyes at the use of his pet name, the muffled tone of which came from somewhere from beyond the door. He knew exactly who was going to burst through, any minute.

                “Zeke!” Rhiannon emerged from the dark hallway. “Oh, thank god, there you are!”

                “Can I help you, I’m kind of busy.” Ezekiel replied. He looked round at the soldiers. Nate and Seth both had guns in their hands and Gale and Rafe flanked Kayla, who was grasping Sam by the collar, her fist raised.

                The argument had escalated beyond recognition and Ezekiel was almost on the point of walking out.

                “Erm...” mumbled Rhiannon, taking in the scene before her. “There’s a situation outside. I think we have spies from Boundary.”

                Ezekiel stopped, thinking through what she’s just said.

                He heard people gasp behind him. “I left a friend watching them, but I’ve spotted two of them so far. What should we do?” asked Rhiannon.

                “We should take them out, quietly and quickly.” Suggested Nate, lowering his hand gun.

                “No, we should capture them and torture them.” Sam countered, flashing Nate a dirty look.

                “Everyone shut it! I’m thinking!” shouted Ezekiel. “Maybe we can use them to our advantage.”

                Silence fell upon the room for a moment.

                “We take them out, quietly, take their earpieces and listen into the conversation their having with Horizon House.”

                Ezekiel turned to where the small voice had come from. Gus sat on the sofa, leaning on his knees.

                “We roll with that. Nate, take The Wyverns and get up somewhere high, snipe them. We’ll be there to collect the bodies and drag them back here.” Ezekiel looked round.

                “Won’t people be a bit....shocked that someone’s just been shot?” asked Rhiannon.

                Ezekiel looked at her. “No. they’ve probably already noticed we have traitors in our midst.”

                A moment later, Ezekiel led the way out of the Archives and straight into mosh pit in the main hall, at the centre of which was two men in suits looking beaten and bloody.

                                                                                                                *

                I slumped down into the desk top. There was no mention of the Descendents in Danin’s journal. Just a load of crap about how people are coming for him. About how he met his brother who told him he was going to die. Ordinarily, I would have pondered this, trying to understand just why he had to die and what actually happened, but today, I had bigger problems on my hand.

                I looked down, my hair falling around my face. It was then that I noticed the corner of a yellowing piece of paper tucked into the back of Danin’s journal, which sat on the desk beside me.

                I opened the back cover, to see the paper sticking out of the bind. I tugged at it, trying not to break the binding, but eventually, I pulled the thin letter from the cover.

                I started to read:

                No one can find this. Not for a long time to come. But when the time comes, I hope to god you find this.

                To my descendent,

                If the descendents no longer exist, then we have lost. You have lost. You will never be free of them.

                If you read this knowing what I mean when I say the word descendent, then there is hope yet. They are the key to winning the war. As a family member, you hold the key to the door. It is your blood that opens the door to the warrens.

                The magic I took back from the Quantum Project I used to seal it. Now it is time to open it again. I will give you clear instruction on how to open the door, but know this:

                The black parade is true. They live down there, beneath the foundations of the city, waiting for the day it is time for war. And this time is now.

                I am willing to bet the tipping point included a rise in death toll and several people turning up on the doorstep of the remaining Duskgates looking for help.

                To my descendent, I hope I give you the strength to do what is now needed of you.

                I closed my eyes. I’d found it! I breathed out before continuing.

                                                                                *

                Nicki stood on the stairs watching the chaos. Too many people. Too many people trying to grasp at the two spies. She spotted Rhiannon by the door beneath the stair, looking horrified. She stepped to the side to let a tall man through. The two of the paused, before gesturing behind them and letting through 5 people dressed in black holding guns.

                The broke up the mosh pit, grasping the spies by the hands and forcing them to the floor. The people of The Wynde went quiet, gathering around the scene. The band through the other room halted their music, watching what was going on from the make shift stage.

                “Kill them! They don’t belong here!”

                “Fucking traitors!”

                “Fucking spies!                 “Kill them!”

                “Wait!” came a booming voice from the door to the Archives.

                The tall man in the grey suit came through the crowd followed by Rhiannon.

                “We have plans for these two. We can use them!” he yelled, looking around.

                “Fuck that, man!” someone yelled.

                “Yeah!”

                The crowd began to shout incoherently again, and Nicki turned to Rick. “I...I didn’t mean for this to happen. When I said mosh pit, I meant a small one!”

                Rick smiled. “Dude, there’s no such thing as a small mosh pit. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Getting Zeke involved wasn’t your fault.”

                “Zeke? Is that his name?” Nicki looked at the man. He had a strange thin face and eyes that looked almost reflective.

                “Yeah, he’s Cynthia’s boyfriend, apparently.”

                Nicki raised an eyebrow, watching Zeke gesture to one of the soldiers dressed in black, who raised his gun and fired a shot straight into the plaster ceiling.

                As bits of plaster rained down, Zeke shouted, “Quiet!” he looked around and was about to speak, when a hooded figure came forwards.

                “Let me sort this.” Came a woman’s voice from behind the hood. She had her back to Nicki, but when she took down her hood, Nicki could only see a mane of bronze curls.

                Zeke looked at her, his face set in a cold expression. “And what are you going to do with two spies clearly sent here to whisper updates to their mayor.”

                “He’s your mayor too!” spat one of the spies, who was immediately introduced to one of the soldier’s fists.

                The woman moved towards the spy, towering over him. She bent to whisper into his ear. Nicki sensed the whole crowd hold their breath, trying to listen to what she said, but as soon as the woman stood again, the spy mirrored her actions. Nicki tried to crane her neck to see his face, but the woman was blocking her view.

                The spy turned and took a gun gently from one o the soldier’s hands.

                “Let him take it.” Ordered the woman, and the soldier let it go, reluctantly. The spy then made several swift actions, putting the gun in his mouth and pulling the trigger. There was a brief fountain of blood before his body fell to the floor. There were gasps and yelled from the crowd, as the woman turned to the other spy, and said, “Now you.”

                This time, Nicki saw the spy’s face clearly. The skin around his eyes was riddled with blue veins that stuck out, and his eyes were a tangled mess of blue tendrils beneath his lids. He took the gun form the corpse’s hand, and shot himself.

                No one knew what to do. There was silence; Nicki wasn’t sure whether to cry, or to feel happy. There was a lingering sense of resentment towards the two spies, yet she couldn’t help but feel terrified. She felt Rick’s hand upon her shoulder.

                                                                                                *

                Zeke looked at Nate, who was looking down at the corpse at his feet, blood slowly pooling around its head.

                “Get rid of the bodies. I need to find Cynthia. Now.” With that he turned tail and strode towards the Archives. He could hear the grunts from two of the Wyverns following him with the corpses over their shoulders, yet he continued on down the red carpeted hallway and into the archives to find a shadows figure sat with her back to the door.

                Cynthia turned when Zeke stood at her side, a solemn look on her face.

                “I know what I need to do.” She said. She was about to continue when she turned and looked at the door and frowned.

                Following her gaze, Zeke looked to where the two Wyverns had frozen, looking straight ahead, the corpses clasped with strong arms.

                “What should we do with these?” one of them asked. Seth, Zeke thought his name was. He believed the other on was Rafe. The all looked the same.

                “Erm...” uttered Cynthia, not angry or shocked, but strangely baffled. “Just out back? There’s a set of glass doors at the back of the archives.”

                Zeke sighed and waited until they had disappeared into the sea of bookcases. “What is it you need to do?”

                Cynthia shot him a sorrowful glance. “I need to go out there and talk to The Wynde first. But I know how to open the door. And you’re not going to like it. Even more so how this whole mess is related to Wyvern Industries. I don’t know why, but they did something to my ancestors.” She paused and stood, looking at Zeke.

                “Whatever happens,” she whispered, placing a hand on his. “just don’t worry about me. Whatever happens to me, just know that I haven’t gone anywhere. I will always be part of The Wynde.”

                Zeke was painfully aware of his heart beat speeding up, and he tightened his grip on her hand. “What are you planning to do?” he voice cracked slightly.

                “Just...be there for me?”

                He gazed into her deep grey eyes for a second before nodding away the sense of dread.

                He grasped her hand, as if his had gone numb and he needed to know it was still there, as she led him from the room. It was as if his body was moving separately from his mind. He didn’t want to go out there. He didn't want to face the people. He suddenly didn't want Cynthia to lead the war. But just hours ago, he’d urged to her to.

                How could he change his mind so fast? Was it that look of sorrow Cynthia had given him? Was it the way she seemed...so...ghost-like? When she’d left him, she’d seemed solemn for very different reasons. No, not sorrow, tired and reluctant. Now it was like she was walking towards the edge of a cliff. And she wasn’t slowing down.

                They reached the main hall. The crowd parted to let them out and suddenly, everything was silent. The band wasn’t playing. In fact, Zeke could just see them trying to get good views form the other room, by standing on sofas. Cynthia let go of Zeke’s hand as she climbed the stairs. He still followed her, but when she rounded the corner to the balcony just above the main door, he stopped just above the door to the archives. He stared at her as she opened the doors and stepped out into the night, addressing the whole of The Wynde.

                Despite her being outside, somehow, her voice was clear to everyone present. The thousands of people, hair of all colours, tattoos, guns strapped to their backs, denim jackets sowed together scruffily, the huge boots with big silver