Chapter Thirty-Four

Crush

10:40 CET

Vienna, Austria

Sebastian leaned forward in his chair, trying to ignore the murmurs coming from behind him. The teacher was completely oblivious to the mutters as he droned on at the front of the class, writing on the whiteboard in undecipherable scribbles. Yet no matter how much he tried to lean away from the mutterings Sebastian couldn't stop them from digging into his ears.

"...vor Lukas geweint..."

"So ein Weichei."

"Lässt sich einfach herumschieben."

Sebastian ground his teeth together and stared out the window where the rain was pummelling down the school grounds as it had been all morning. Why couldn't he get any peace, even in a class? People were always talking about him without a care as to whether he could hear them or not. Half of him wondered whether Lukas had put them up to it but the other half knew that it was simply gossip among students that he happened to be the butt of. Lukas didn't need to play the puppet master when everyone was playing to his tune anyway.

"Er ist so ein Feigling."

Sebastian couldn't stop himself and stood up, the chair falling behind him. The teacher stopped and all Sebastian's classmates looked up at him in bated silence. Feeling all their eyes upon him Sebastian felt the heat growing to his cheeks and eyes. He opened his mouth to make some kind of excuse to go to the toilets but realised that even trying to speak a word would let the tears free and he couldn't do that in the middle of the classroom, couldn't give the students that satisfaction. Instead he moved quickly and left the stifling room, letting the door swing shut with a crash that rattled the window.

He strode across the corridor, down the two flights of stairs, through the foyer and out one of the back doors into the grounds. The rain immediately drenched him to the skin but Sebastian paid it no mind as he ignored the path, marching straight through the grass field, the mud squelching under his trainers. As he made his way to the back of the field at the southern edge of the school, Sebastian knew that what he had just done would come back to bite him hard. It would earn him a suspension, he expected, and his father would be told what he had done.

The beatings would be extra vicious tonight and this thought made Sebastian speed up, pushing through the muddy puddles permeating the field.

A small squat building rested in the corner of the field and this was where Sebastian stopped, breathing hard and his shoulders heaving. The building used to be for the groundskeeper but since he had a heart attack a month ago the school hadn't been able to get a replacement. The large tools hung on rusted hooks on the outside of the shed, a shovel, a pitchfork, a rake and a broom. Sebastian moved to where the back of the shed connected with the fence that surrounded the perimeter of the school grounds and sat down, ignoring the mud splashing over his legs and fingers.

It was a spot Sebastian had picked out as his own for as long as he had been at the school, hidden away from the rest of the students. Coming here unlocked the feelings within him and Sebastian bent over, the tears coming up strong. Today had been one of the worst days he had had for a long while. He was still nursing the bruises on his ribs from his father in the morning, then there had been the situation with Lukas on the hill and now all the mutterings and taunting he had received all day long.

With his head in his hands Sebastian didn't see anyone approach until a sudden spattering of mud covered his face from fringe to chin. He wiped away the mud in his eyes to see Lukas standing there with a cocksure grin on his face, surrounded by two of his thuggish friends.

"Was machst du hier unten?" Lukas asked, his eyes gleaming with menace. Sebastian couldn't even deign to respond, the misery increasing tenfold. Lukas must have seen him come here and now even his safe place at school wasn't safe anymore. He pushed himself to his feet and attempted to walk past Lukas without a word. "Geh nicht von mir weg!" Lukas grabbed a handful of Sebastian's coat and threw him against the shed wall with enough force to make the tools shudder and the rake to fall off into the mud.

"Ich denke du brauchst eine lektion in respekt, Sebastian." Lukas sneered and threw a fist into Sebastian's ribs, where the bruises were already formed. Sebastian let out a yell of pain and fell to the mud again, snivelling. Lukas gave a look to his friends and then all three of them started kicking Sebastian with mud-stained boots. It was all Sebastian could do to curl up and feel the kicks hitting his knees, his arms, the back of his neck. He wanted the mud to swallow him up but there was no hope as pain lanced all around his body.

The point of the shovel gleamed over Sebastian's cowering figure as Lukas and his two friends continued to beat down the boy. Each kick sent vibrations running through the wooden wall of the shed and the shovel shook closer and closer to the end of the hook.

"Halt!" Lukas held back his friends and reached down, grabbing Sebastian around the collar and pulling him up just as the shovel slipped from its hook, embedding itself with a thunk right where Sebastian's head had just been lying in the mud. The movement distracted Lukas for a moment and Sebastian suddenly leaned forward and latched his teeth around Lukas' shoulder, through his shirt. Lukas let out a pained cry and let go of Sebastian, dropping him into the mud against.

Sebastian scrambled up to his feet and found red bubbling up behind his eyelids. This was too much, too much! For Lukas and his friends to come to his safe place, to kick him when he was down, to taunt him and hurt him and… Sebastian hadn't even realised he had grabbed the shovel before he had swung it and connected with the temple of one of Lukas' friends. The larger boy dropped to the mud and Sebastian didn't feel a thing. He looked at the second boy and could feel a voice niggling in the back of his mind.

…Hurt him…

Sebastian saw no reason to disobey this voice and swept the shovel in a high arc again, catching the second boy on the side of the head, just to the eye. The blade of the shovel split the boy's face head open like a melon as Sebastian pulled the shovel away and turned towards Lukas. The bully who had tormented him for so many years was cowering, stricken down by fear. "Warte warte warte!" Lukas pleaded, falling to his rear and scrambling back in the mud.

…Kill him…

The first swing of the shovel caught Lukas in the jaw with a horrifying crack. White teeth spilt into the grass to be lost among the mud. The second strike caught him just above the ear. Sebastian swung the shovel like a man possessed, again, and again, and again, speckles of blood spitting against his face only to get washed away by the heavy rain. He deserves this, the voice hissed in Sebastian's ear, he deserves to wallow in the mud like the filth that he is! Hit him! Hit him again! Again!

10:46 CET
Berlin, German

Rose eyes flickered open, the image of her dream disappearing as soon as she tried to remember it. She thought she could remember lots of rain and mud in the dream but she couldn't be sure. Looking up at the white roof, she took a moment to remember where she was. That's right, it was the professor's house… had he come back? She remembered having a vision that would indicate that his turn on the list had come and gone.

"Ah, you are awake, my dear." Rose turned to find a kindly looking elderly man who could only be Johann Schneider. She went to move but the professor gently put a hand on her shoulder. "It is better not to aggravate your leg for the moment."

Rose looked down to her leg to see that the leg of her jeans had been cut off and that the wound just below her knee had been wrapped neatly with white bandages. Her eyes drifted to the pallid colour of the leg underneath the bandage for a moment. It didn't exactly look healthy. She looked past the professor and around the room to see only a large dog sitting on a bed in the corner and Siddharth in an armchair.

"Hi," Rose said weakly.

"Hey," Siddharth smiled at her though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "How're you feeling?"

"A lot better," Rose said. "But where are the Skyhawks? They haven't gone, have they?"

"No," Siddharth said. "There was a… well, an incident out front." Siddharth took a breath. "Rose, Sam's gone. The Skyhawks are clearing up the mess she made of their van.

"Gone? What do you mean… Why?" Rose blinked, confused.

"Your guess is as good as mine, I'm afraid. It's… possible… that the man I threatened somehow accosted her…" Siddharth shook his head. "But it looks like Sam was driving. Along with the Skyhawk's van, there were other things hit as if the person driving didn't know how to drive."

"We'll find her," Rose said firmly. She truly believed the Sam was going to stay with them so if she drove off like that she must have had a good reason. Instead, Rose turned to the professor. "Do I have you to thank for treating me?"

"I merely worked with what I had," Johann said with a small smile. "I may have treated the wound but I believe Mr Murphy saved your life with his quick thinking. It may not have been neat but it was, at least, acceptable."

"Huh…" Rose nodded. Everything before she had lost consciousness was a mixed blur but she could now remember Murphy cleaning the wound and doing his best to keep her awake with conversation. He said to call him Seamus…

White sheets were laid in rows, spread out like gravestones. The blue of water shines on horizon. A flash of angers runs through the air. Shouting, accusations, truths and lies. Then the sound of a siren above all else, the flickering of blue lights, the squeal of brakes…

Rose let in a sharp intake of breath and looked wildly at Siddharth. "I-I remember! My dreams… they were clues… but… but they've gone by. Its Alisha's turn, it has to be." Rose squeezed her eyes shut in anger. Even while she was unconscious, the List was still turning. If it was Alisha's turn then that meant Bethany, Leslie… the boy they couldn't identify – the three of their turns had already gone past. Once again Rose had to wonder why the List was going by so far. She had never seen anything like this in all of her research.

09:50 GMT
Pwllhei, Wales

Staring down at the white sheet, Alisha felt almost hollow. Under that sheet, her half-brother lay, an empty husk of who he had once been. That… thing… under the sheet, that wasn't Derek, not anymore. All she had left of Derek were memories and of those memories there were very few good ones. Alisha had never considered Derek a true member of her family even though they shared the same father. She had put all her hatred in her mother's supposed accident onto him that she had never given him the respect he deserved.

Now she thought back on it, she wondered how Derek was able to keep so calm and collected with her. He had never lost his temper, he had never shouted at her, blamed her, even so much as hinted at a distaste for her. Derek had acted the older brother and she had acted like a stubborn child. Derek sought to protect her yet she tugged out of his grasp and every moment. Yet there he was, whenever she had partied too hard, or got into the wrong crowd, or even struggled with her exams, Derek was there to give advice whether or not she wanted it.

If only she knew… if only she knew how much of a bastard they shared in a father, perhaps everything would have turned out differently. Perhaps she could have loved him as a brother but now it was far too late. Derek was dead and he wasn't coming back. It was only her and Patrick now, the last vestiges of the Sanders family and what a poor excuse the two of them were for survivors. She, a borderline alcoholic who enjoyed dabbling in drugs, and he, a murdering psychopathic scumbag.

"I-I didn't mean for this to happen…"

The words stabbed at her like a hot knife and she turned to Patrick Sanders who had walked silently up beside her. It seemed in all the confusion of the helicopter crash that he had snuck away from his miserable corner. She could see Axel still keeping his eye on him, though, even as he was helping with the scene of the accident.

"What did you expect?" Alisha snarled, the anger in her voice unyielding. "You left us to die."

"He was my son."

"And I am your daughter." Alisha pointed to a second sheet next to Derek's. "She was your wife. Your left us all."

"I wanted to live."

"Congratulations. You're alive." Alisha shook her head in disgust. "You didn't even try. You didn't even look at us. You just swam away."

"…I regret it, if that helps."

"If that helps?" Alisha turned to her father in amazement. "If that helps? Are you kidding me right now?" She felt the fury inside of her and turned away to watch an ambulance pull up near the wrecked helicopter to pick up the helicopter pilot – one of only a few serious injuries that warranted being taken to a hospital on the spot. She looked back to Patrick. "It doesn't help. It never will. They're and never coming back and that's because of you. That's on your shoulders. I don't believe it… If it helps… you know what would have helped? You moving the front seat so we could climb through the front and leave through your door. You didn't even think of that. You just cared about your own life and couldn't give a crap what happened to everybody else. Is that what happened with mum? You sacrificed her to the Irish mob so you get to live another day, to lead a new life?"

"You don't know what happened with your mother…"

"So tell me!" Alisha got close to Patrick. "Do something good and tell me! Are you telling me that her death isn't your fault? 'Cause if so you're a fuckin' liar! All my life you've lied to me… I thought you were the perfect dad any little girl could want to! I actually had the decency to feel bad when you were disappointed with my grades or my friends or my activities but all that was absolutely nothing to you, wasn't it? You just played the part of doting dad when you worked for the fuckin' Irish mob!"

Alisha stopped as if suddenly realising something. "That's why you didn't care when I was hangin' out with Aiden Byrne, why you didn't even try to stop me. 'Cause his parents were rumoured to be part of the mob. You were too damn scared to try and stop me so you just let me. Derek had to drag me out of that place, you know? The things I was doin'… the things I was gonna do… It disgusts me! Derek got me out because he actually had a backbone! Something he obviously didn't inherit from you!"

A moment of silence reigned over her outburst. The sirens of the ambulance echoed over the square as it started to move but Alisha's voice had drew many eyes though she didn't care who was listening any more.

"Alisha…" Patrick tried.

"Don't! Don't you fuckin' dare say my name! Don't you dare pretend like you give a crap! I know the truth now, I know the kind of mind you are and I know that you'd do anything if it preserved your own skin! You're a leech! All of this-" Alisha beckoned with her arms. "This is 'cause of you. We were taken away from our own home because of you! We were threatened because of you!"

"I tried to keep you safe!"

"Yeah, I'm sure they fuckin' appreciate that," she gestured to the sheets. "I'm sure they feel fuckin' cozy wherever they are! I mean, they'd have to be 'cause they know that they're exactly the opposite of where you're goin'! 'Cause when you meet your maker you're going down to the hottest parts of hell, reserved for absolute scum like you!" Alisha's voice was shrill but she didn't even care. All her feelings welled up inside her like a raging fire, burning up any reluctance she had. "I hope you do regret fleeing like the coward you are! I hope you live for years and years, the guilt slowly eatin' away at you! I hope they haunt you every step of the way! I hope you live penniless on the street, givin' your body for cash and hopin' that it'll be enough to keep you going! Then when the cold hits and you're hiding under a cardboard sheet I hope you see them, I hope the guilt eats you and eats you until you're old, grey, miserable, alone, with not a penny to your name. I want you suffer, to rot, to fuckin' fall apart at the seams! I want—"

"ENOUGH!" That anger that flashed over Patrick back at the house took over again and he shoved the palms of his hands into Alisha's chest, knocking her back. She stumbled back into the road as the sirens grew louder in her ears.

Everything seemed to go slow as Alisha glanced to her left to see the ambulance rising toward her like a great beast. She actually saw horror pass over her father's face. But it was too late, he had killed her, just like he had killed Marianne, just like he had killed Derek… but in the corner of her eye she saw him. The man called Axel. But what could a man do against an ambulance at full-speed?

Then everything sped up. Alisha swore she saw a glint of silver because the ambulance suddenly came to a sudden and shuddering stop, smoke hissing out of the bonnet. The burst of smoke slowly rose into the air and Alisha saw Axel standing in front of a massive dent in the front of the ambulance but at the same time, it wasn't Axel…

The big man looked like he was completely covered in metal, gleaming in the sunlight. Both his hair and his moustache had turned as wiry as a shoe-brush and his eyes had turned as white as a blind man's. Then Axel moved with the creaking of metal and stood like a statue. He peered his head around to the entire crowd gasping and muttering and pointing at him. Then the metallic Axel Daunhauer's gaze looked on Patrick Sanders.

"Dummkopf," Axel whispered, taking a step forward. "You would sacrifice your own daughter…" Every step he took the creak of metal followed. A faint imprint of the metal remained in the tarmac behind him as if he somehow weighed more than he did before. Patrick Sanders couldn't even move before the man – if Axel was really a man and not some kind of monster – stopped directly in front of him.

"W-W-W-What are you?" Patrick finally found his voice.

"Axel?!" Jamie rushed over with Tanzi by her side. Amongst her stupor, Alisha thought that Tanzi was looking particularly healthy for having just been caught by the helicopter when she had saved Leslie. But all her thoughts focused back in on Axel and her father soon enough.

"Ich werde dich nicht betrauern," Axel spoke, his voice grating like the gears of a great machine. In one sudden movement he raised his arms and latched his hands on either side of Patrick's head, each finger like a steel rod.

"N-No-No, don't, please, please, don't, I-I-I please, stop, please! " Patrick pleaded.

"Stop!" Jamie reached up and grabbed one arm and Tanzi grabbed the other, but no matter how hard they pulled Axel's metallic arms did not budge one inch. It was at that point that Alisha realised what was happening, what Axel was intending… and she found that she wanted to watch as close as possible.

Axel starting pushing his hands together on either side of Patrick Sanders head. At first it looked like nothing was happening as Patrick started to shake and whimper. Then thick dark blood dripped out of his nose, his ears, and his lips, trailing down his face. The veins were popping on his forehead as Tanzi and Jamie fruitlessly tried to pull at Axel's arms. Yet he pushed and he pushed and—

CRACK!

All of a sudden Patrick Sanders' head became a pulp of broken bone, brains, and gristle amongst Axel's metallic palms. Alisha watched with strange satisfaction as the thing that was once her father fell to its knees, the head now a mess remaining on Axel's hands. It tipped over and fell to the floor and all Alisha could think was that Patrick Sanders should have suffered more for all that he had done to his family.