ROOFTOP
THE PRESENT DAY
In Accra, Ghana, Reilly Carroll, Grace Scott, Priscilla Adei-Cardwell and her bodyguard known only as The Ghanaian, boarded their flight bound for Addis Ababa, and from there to India. The next leg of their journey around the world was about to begin.
In a warehouse on the outskirts of Berlin, just as the shockwave from the bomb planted by the warehouse's former occupants reached the retreating forms of Erin Eedy and Kristen McQualter, the former tackled the latter aside.
And, as the flames consumed the doorway and licked at the sky, a form shot like an arrow into the sky, a trail of smoke left hanging in the air after it.
In Tangier, the door of Louisa Rietdijk's hotel was flung open, crashing loudly against the wall. Amy Lamotte bounded through, gun up. Three shots pierced the air.
Lachlan Dickson was hit, and thrown through one of the room's windows. The curtains parted behind him, and he was gone, his boot the last visible part of him as he plunged towards the street below.
They recovered from the attack quickly, news of Amy's battle with the dehydrator in Marseilles flying between them. Finally, Louisa got a chance to ask a question.
"What's our next move?"
Amy reached into her coat, and dumped a thick file on the coffee table, marked 'Personnes des particulier'. Unique people. "We go through this file, one entry at a time. Then we follow 'em up."
Deep down, they both knew that these attacks meant only one thing. War.
"Did you get it?" came the voice of Sophie Freeman, but Brendan was unable to speak. "Hello? Brendan? What is it?"
He ignored her. On the screen, before him, rendered in graphite, was his worst nightmare. Lauren was in his arms, her eyes staring sightlessly upwards. And, over her shoulder, stood a woman, smoking gun in hand. The woman's identity hit Brendan like a slap to the face. Amy Lamotte.
His mind, spinning rapidly through all the options, landed on one. War.
GREENLAND BUILDING
LOS ANGELES, CA
THREE MONTHS AGO
Chambers' eyes widened, as a burst of the future came to her once again. But it was too late. Destiny had been decided. Louise Greenland struck her at a dead run, and, together, they sailed off the rooftop.
"No!" Reilly Carroll screamed as he dropped the katana bestowed upon him by Kristian Darroch.
As one, Reilly, Grace Scott, Amy Lamotte, Julian Neave, Erin Eedy and Brendan Wunderlich surged towards the edge of the Greenland Building's roof, but it was already too late. Louise Greenland and Cathy Chambers had disappeared into the night.
Tears streamed from Grace's eyes, as the six stood at the edge of the roof, looking down into the darkness. Reilly glanced back, and saw an invisible force push the door open, and slam it shut behind them.
Taylor Benn was gone, off to find the woman he had declared his love for just moments before.
Reilly turned back, and, together, the six survivors stared down into the darkness, into the gulf of the unknown. Silence reigned supreme. Shock was the only constant in the emotions of the six. All were looking unblinkingly down at the street far below. Destiny had just come full circle; the second sacrifice had been made. Louise Greenland was dead, and so was Chambers. It was over.
Grace Scott, Reilly Carroll. Julian Neave, Erin Eedy. Brendan Wunderlich and Amy Lamotte. Six people whom destiny had chosen, had brought together over the course of years, decades.
Then, as one, they were hit by the magnitude of what had happened.
Only one stepped forward to take charge. Brendan Wunderlich turned to them, and said, loudly, powerfully, "Erin, are you up to flying?"
The auburn haired Manhattan native just looked at him mutely, but she managed to nod.
"Take Julian down there, and secure the area. If there were any witnesses, I don't want them to remember what they've seen. Let's keep law enforcement away until we can clean up." Brendan turned to the others, to Reilly, Grace and Amy, as Erin took hold of Julian and drifted into the cold night air, then down, down towards street level. "Amy, take Reilly and Grace to their rooms, then rejoin me in my office."
Amy nodded. She put a hand on Grace's elbow. Grace turned her head to face Amy, a strange expression creasing her eyes. "What's wrong?" Reilly asked, putting a hand on Grace's shoulder.
"I feel so…" Grace said, her voice taking on an eerie, dream-like quality. "I feel so light."
Her knees buckled, and she fell, her eyes rolling upwards. Reilly caught her before she hit the ground, and put a hand behind her knees, swinging her up, keeping her off the gravel rooftop.
"Let's get her inside," Amy said, and Reilly nodded.
Brendan got the impression he had been expecting a collapse; Grace's power was still untamed, and each face-off with Chambers had been more draining than the last for the budding empathic telepath. The three disappeared through the broken door down into the Greenland Building.
Brendan turned back to the night, and looked down onto the street.
ERIN EEDY & JULIAN NEAVE
Julian's feet touched the asphalt before Erin's; he landed a bit unbalanced, but he managed to steady himself before Erin landed, staggering as her feet hit the pavement. They'd dropped pretty fast from the rooftop, but they'd slowed down for the last couple of floors, landing in the street not far from a yellow taxi cab.
"What the hell?" came an awestruck voice from behind them.
Erin and Julian, neither having said a word, turned to see a black man, wearing a cab driver's uniform, eyes wide, who had obviously just seen them land.
Julian moved faster than Erin's eyes could follow; he leapt atop the cab driver, forcing him to the ground, placing a hand on either side of the man's head. A second later, the man was unconscious, Julian's power of mental manipulation taking immediate effect. Julian straightened, and turned back to the cab.
Erin followed his gaze, and for the first time got a good look at the vehicle. It was as though something massive had fallen from above and crashed into the car's roof, shattering the windows, caving in the roof.
Erin rounded the car, Julian followed.
What she saw on the other side made her knees buckle, and her mouth fall open in shock. A body, lying right in the street, face-down in a pool of their own blood. There was no doubt, from the blonde hair, who it was. Louise Greenland lay dead at Erin's feet. Erin had to swallow back bile. She turned to the side, blinking.
Greenland had seemed impregnable.
And now she lay dead.
"He's down," said Julian, appearing at her side. He caught sight of Greenland, and swore silently. He blinked, and looked back at the body. "It looks like something broke their fall midway down."
He looked at the cab. Blood oozed from the broken shards of metal, and dripped slowly onto the pavement.
"Tele—" Erin had to stop herself as the bile threatened to come back. She gulped it down, shook her head. "Telekinesis, maybe. As they fell, Chambers gives it one last push to land properly."
Julian nodded, and reeled back on his feet, obviously disturbed by the sight of the mangled body, barely recognizable as human, in the torn and twisted wreckage of the cab.
"We need to secure the area," he managed to croak.
Erin nodded, but she didn't move. Her eyes were fixed on Greenland's body, and she asked herself the same question, over and over again. What was going to happen next?
REILLY & GRACE
The sense of loss was nothing like Grace had ever felt; the world washed over her, carrying parts of her away, chipping away at the cavity that had been gouged within her. She realized that it wasn't Jake's death, and it wasn't Greenland's. It was Chambers'.
The woman who shared her ability was gone, crashed to Earth hundreds of metres below, no doubt in exactly the way Sophie Freeman's drawing had predicted. In the top of a taxi cab, Greenland's brains dashed out on the pavement beside it. Tears rolled down Grace's cheeks as she was carried by someone. She tried to lift her head, to focus her gaze, but nothing happened. She could hear everything; people pushing, someone shoving open a door.
And then, finally, quiet.
The door closed again, and Grace realised she was no longer moving. Desperate to stop the loss ravaging her, she reached out with her ability, and felt a familiar presence not a metre away, their entire aura consumed with fear, worry about her, and her alone. It was a pure, unyielding love; not a husband's love, or a boyfriend's love. A brother's love. She knew in an instant who it was.
She opened her parched lips, and tried to speak. "Reilly." She groaned, and she felt his hand on her forehead.
"It's okay," she heard him say, and she felt something on her bottom lip. The rim of a glass. Reilly tipped it back, and cool, refreshing water flowed downwards. Grace swallowed three huge gulps before the glass was taken away.
Her eyes opened fully, and she was suddenly aware. The loss was gone as quickly as it had come. She remembered who Chambers was. What she had done. And she promised herself that she would never allow anything like that to become of her, so long as she lived.
She was in her room in the Greenland Building, the opulently decorated sleep chamber she had been assigned after she had declared her intention to stay in Los Angeles and learn from Greenland.
Reilly was standing at the side of her bed, concern creasing his eyes. He touched her forehead, brushing errant strands of hair out of her eyes. "Is there anything I can?"
Grace shook her head, and realised for the first time that she crying. Tears literally streamed off her face. "Just stay," she said, through sobs that wracked her entire body. And Reilly sat on the bed beside her, and pulled her into a tight embrace.
She fell asleep with her head on his shoulder, sometime later. He laid her gently on the bed, her head on the pillow, and he sat on a chair by the room's panoramic window, to wait for the sun. He drifted off to sleep, too.
And that's when the nightmares started.
BRENDAN WUNDERLICH & AMY LAMOTTE
He'd always heard of people claiming that life was too fast; that there wasn't enough time to sniff the roses anymore. Brendan Wunderlich disagreed with that assessment. He was living proof that it was wrong. A superpowered man working for an underground organisation of people with superpowers like his, he had still found time to get married. To buy a house in Simi Valley.
He and Lauren had often spoken about children someday. Someday soon, of course. They argued about bills, about where to eat on his rare nights off. Occasionally, they lay awake at night and argued baby names for a few hours.
He hadn't seen her in weeks. Almost a month.
But the last time he had checked, her two most favourite names in the world were Maggie and Joseph. He hated both.
It was strange, he realised, that in a time such as this all he could think about was her. He had gone immediately to Greenland's massive office, and started to make the phone calls; the foreign agents, the agents in other parts of the country. And one to a homestead just outside of Accra, Ghana. Something had told him to take charge, and he did.
"Brendan?"
Jerked from his reverie, Brendan swung about. Amy Lamotte stood in the doorway, and Brendan realised how tired he was. He tired they all were. "How are Carroll and Grace?
"They're in Grace's room. She's breathing, at least."
Brendan nodded. "All right. We have three bodies we need to dispose of, and only four people to do it. I've called in four agents, who should arrive no later than tomorrow afternoon. We'll have most of the organisation here inside of the week."
Amy hesitated, frowning.
"You have a question, Amy?" Brendan asked, and something in his voice chilled him to the bone. It was something simply... Greenland.
"Who put you in charge?"
Brendan's eyes narrowed. "Are you serious?"
"Deadly," Amy shrugged."I think it's important. The organisation just lost its founder and leader. Whoever takes charge here, takes charge of the organisation."
"Amy," Brendan said, soothingly. "I'm not trying to take control of the organisation. It's just, Jake Nicholson is dead, Abby Cone is dead, and Louise Greenland is... well, she's dead, too. That leaves you and I as the most experienced members of the organisation. What we need right now is to work together, not fight one another. We have to keep the organisation together."
Amy's gaze smouldered, and she held up her palms. The familiar, frosty blue glow gathered at her fingertips, and swirled inwards, fully encircling her hands.
"Amy," Brendan said, more sternly than he would have liked. "Stop."
It was as if something in that last word got through to her. The mists of her power died away, and she let her hands drop. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm on edge. I just... I don't trust you. Or anyone here, for that matter."
Brendan frowned a little. "That was bizarrely honest of you."
"It's been a bizarrely honest night," Amy said with a shrug. "I'm going to catch some sleep. I'm exhausted."
Brendan nodded, remembering the light show that was the battle between the freezing ability of Amy and the pyrokinesis Chambers had killed Abby Cone for. "I bet you are." She turned to go. "Amy?" Brendan said.
At the door, Amy stopped. "Yes?"
"Thanks for saving us all tonight."
Amy smiled, her exhaustion coming through. "That's what we're all here for." And she was gone
By morning, Greenland, the taxi and Chambers had disappeared. The street was clear, the cab driver a victim of a brutal mugging. Jake Nicholson's body had also been removed; he and Greenland were now at a discreet mortuary, and Chambers' body had been sent to a secret Greenland Corporation facility somewhere in the Mojave Desert, for research.
Brendan had not gotten a wink of sleep. He'd sat through the reports of Erin and Julian, and then had gone over the digital images they'd taken of the cab, and of Greenland's body. There was no doubt in Brendan's mind that Sophie's final prophecy had come true.
He drummed his fingers on Greenland's mahogany desk. He still hadn't sat in the chair behind it; doing so would mean he was taking Greenland's place. He wasn't ready to do that.
So he sat on the side of the desk he had sat on when he'd first arrived. He had no idea how soon he'd be permanently on the other side.
The six gathered again the next morning in Greenland's office. As large and empty as it had seemed before Greenland's desk, a cavernous space occupied solely by the mahogany desk and accompanying chairs, it felt so much smaller without Louise Greenland's larger-than-life presence.
Brendan had brought in three folding chairs to supplement the three chairs already there; he, Grace and Amy took the swivel chairs, Reilly, Julian and Erin occupying the folding chairs.
Ne noted, in an odd way, that he and Amy were facing opposite each other. Memories of their confrontation the night before came to him.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, his throat saw and dry. "Today is going to be a hard day. Yesterday, we all lost friends and allies. Today, we'll have to clean this all up. The bodies are gone; taken to a discrete mortuary. Greenland's family has already contacted me. Her son will be arriving in a few hours."
"She has a son?" Erin asked, clearly surprised.
Brendan nodded, and went on "Five other operatives of the organisation will be arriving today to help us with the clean-up. Over the coming weeks, the entire organisation will come together. Then we'll decide what to do in a more permanent way."
"Okay," Erin said, a question forming n her lips. "Who's in charge now?"
Amy and Brendan traded looks. "We are." Brendan answered.
"Both of you?" Grace asked incredulously.
Amy shrugged. "We're the longest serving members of this organisation. When the rest of us are brought here, we'll make a final decision then."
"Now," Brendan said, ignoring the looks of surprise on four out of six faces in the room. "We need to decide what happens over the next couple of weeks. Reilly, if I can call you that, I believe you were headed back to New "
"Now," Brendan said, ignoring the looks of surprise on four out of six faces in the room. "We need to decide what happens over the next couple of weeks. Reilly, if I can call you that, I believe you were headed back to New York."
"That's correct," Reilly said. "You can all call me Reilly if you want," he added, with a shrug. "I'd still like to go, if that's okay. My friend was killed there, and the police are finally releasing his body."
"Okay," Brendan said. "I'll book you a flight as soon as we're done here."
"I have an additional thing to add here," Amy interjected. "Jake Nicholson's funeral. His last living will and testament names a cemetery in Las Vegas. We need somebody to escort his body over state lines."
"I'll do it," Julian said instantly.
Amy nodded. "Good." She looked at Brendan. "That's about it. Grace, what do you intend on doing?"
She shrugged. "I want to stay for a little while. I just need to figure things out. Then I want to visit my mom. Before we do that 'round the world thing."
Brendan looked from Grace to Reilly. "You guys still want to do that?"
They nodded.
He smiled. "Excellent. We will have to put off your trip for a few months, maybe three. Just while we get everything under control. Is that okay?"
Reilly never got a chance to answer. There was a strange, quiet whip-crack noise. All six spun about, to find two people standing in the centre of the room. The curly-haired, slight, beautiful frame of Sophie Freeman, and the tall, long-haired Kristian Darroch.
Two guns appeared, one from Erin, one from Julian, and Amy's hand glowed blue.
Kristian and Sophie turned towards them, both clearly confused. "Where's Greenland?"
Brendan lifted his hand, and Julian and Erin lowered their guns. The glow of Amy's ability disappeared. He stood. "She's dead."
Kristian's jaw dropped, but Sophie stood firm. "And Chambers?"
"Also dead," Brendan answered. "Greenland knocked her off the roof. They both died when they hit the ground. Well, Greenland did. Chambers struck a taxi."
"So it was true," Sophie said, wonder in her eyes. "The drawing came true."
"It did," Brendan answered.
Before he could go on, Reilly jumped to his feet. "What the hell did you two do with Monica? And that boy?"
"They're fine," Sophie answered. "They're waiting for us in Monterey." She turned to Brendan. "I want the keys to the beach house."
Brendan smiled. "Of course you do." He crossed to Greenland's desk. For the first time, Reilly and Grace got a good look at it. It was covered in manila files, papers spilling out of them. He moved a file aside, and picked up a set of keys. "Sophie, can you stick around for a while? I need to talk to you."
Sophie looked to Kristian, taking the keys off Brendan and passing them to him. "It's okay. I'll get up to Monterey soon enough."
Kristian nodded, and was gone with another crack.
Grace had needed to get away from them all, away from what had happened the night before, what had happened since. So she went back to the source, to the rooftop where destiny had come full circle. Grace drew the blanket around her as she stepped into the cool air, the sky a cloudy blue-grey so often found when the son first starts to rise.
She padded barefoot across the concrete, shivering in the cold. She felt the presences of her friends and her allies; she felt the point where Monica and Kyle and Sophie had been teleported away by Kristian Darroch. She detected the presence of Taylor Benn and Emily Coleman, where the two had embraced. She felt Amy Lamotte, where she and Chambers had circled.
She felt Greenland as she fell, taking Chambers with her.
She was about to close her eyes, to reflect, when she saw something glinting on the ground. Moving towards it, she saw it was the katana, the Japanese samurai sword, that Kristian had picked up from a gift shop in Tokyo International Airport. She bent down, and touched the hilt. A flash of Reilly's presence came to her. She looked down the blade's length, to the blood-stained tip.
She saw the blade plunged through Chambers' stomach, in what was supposed to be the killing blow. Instead, the coup de grace had come minutes later...
"Who are you?"
The voice cut like a knife through Grace's unprotected heart. It hadn't been said with any hint of hostility. But something about it cut her deeply. And the presence was unfamiliar. She turned to the voice, katana in hand. A blonde man, about medium height with a well-toned but slim body was standing near the door back down into the building. His hands were held loosely to the side, and Grace caught sight of what looked like a spark dance between two fingers.
"I'm Grace Scott."
"Did you work for my mother?"
It was then Grace noticed his reddened eyes, and the sadness radiating off him. She shook her head. "I didn't."
He nodded. "But you knew her?"
Grace swallowed, and said "I did. Not very well, though, only for about two weeks..."
The man gave a harsh, bitter laugh. "Nobody knew Louise Greenland well. Not my father, and not me, let alone somebody she hadn't known for longer than a couple of weeks." This time, Grace definitely caught sight of a spark trailing across the man's hand.
"I'm sorry," Grace said, and she meant it.
"I'm not," the man said, and threw out his hand. A burst of brilliantly blue light emanated from his hand; a lightning bolt streaked through the air, and ended just as quickly. He dropped his hand, and lowered his chin.
Seconds passed, neither moving.
He looked up again, the tears gone. "My name is Lachlan Collins."
"I'm Grace Scott," Grace repeated. "I take it you're like me."
He lifted his hand again, and miniscule bolts of electricity encircled his clenched fist. "You mean this? More than you'll ever know. Let me guess," he said, looking her up and down. "Some kind of mental ability. Persuasion, clairvoyance."
Grace was starting to get unnerved. "Empathic telepathy."
Lachlan's eyes widened. "Like Chambers."
Grace balked, but nodded. "Yeah, my power is like Chambers'. I'm nothing like her."
"They all start out that way," he said with a shrug. "But all of them end up turning against you. They get drunk on their own power... but you. You I feel there's something different about."
He threw his hands out, and lightning seemed to consume his body. Grace turned away, shielding her eyes. Then it stopped. She looked up.
He was right in front of her, looking directly into her eyes. "You have more power than you know what to do with. Let me help you."
She had nothing to say, except "Yes."
The man smiled. "I'll meet you here, tonight."
BROOKLYN, NY
"This is it," the morgue attendant said. He grabbed the door of the tray, and pulled it open. The slab flew out, and Reilly's breath escaped him with a gasp. One the tray was a white sheet, and beneath it, he knew, was his old friend and one-time mentor, Mark Oakwood.
The attendant reached for the top of the sheet, and pulled it off.
Reilly's knees almost gave out. "Yeah." Reilly nodded. "That's him."
"Is he here?" came a loud, woman's voice. "Reilly!"
Reilly turned, the voice unfamiliar. As soon as he saw the woman, he recognised her. Oakwood's wife of twenty-seven years. "Oh my God, Reilly. Is he here?"
Reilly nodded, and inclined his head towards the slab. The woman came to a stop a metre from the slab. "Oh my God," she repeated. "Oh my God." As the woman slumped to her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks, Reilly backed away, unable to handle the raw outpouring of grief.
Fifteen minutes later, he stood outside the identifying room, his eyes red, raw, when the woman exited, obviously having just recovered from a bout of hysterics. Her voice was quiet, tired.
Reilly straightened when he saw her.
"The funeral is next week in Berkeley." She said simply, before walking off, leaving Reilly standing alone, staring mutely after her.