Equinox
Chapter Seventeen
With everything that had transpired with the flock, my time and thoughts had been occupied almost entirely with their training. Then, in the wake of Dylan's vampire attack, Sam had come and not departed for almost a week after. Anne was satisfied with my distractions. After all, I couldn't cause much mayhem myself when I was too busy trying to prevent mayhem amongst the flock and also entertain guests. But as Sam finally departed for Virginia, and mid-February drew near, a tragedy struck which all too abruptly reminded me of everything that I had been ignoring in favor of my new pet project.
The death of a hunter.
Not someone I knew personally, but somehow that didn't alleviate the sick feeling constantly pooling in my gut, especially every time I saw his hunting partner wandering morosely around the complex in the days that followed- especially when I heard the story of how he had died.
Until the funeral, I had only caught vague whispers of the accident. But as I stood next to a somber Dylan, as removed from the proceedings as possible, I finally heard the truth. Only a few feet away, Anne stood stoically, an unused tissue wadded pathetically in her hand. She had been murmuring comforts to those present, but I couldn't help notice how instantly wary she became as the partner approached. The crowd had thinned, as everyone trickled toward the reception being held in the cafeteria, so few were left to hear his beseeching words to our supreme chief.
"Please, Ms. Walker … have you heard anything?" he inquired, wringing his hands. The cuffs of his dress shirt hung haphazardly as he did so.
"Henry," she began serenely, the perfect image of understanding and calm. Cough fake cough. "This isn't the time or place."
I couldn't see his expression, as his back was turned, but I could imagine the flame slowly creeping up his neck. His next words were harder, as if pushed through gritted teeth. Apparently Anne's answers were not appeasing his concerns. Impatience ringed his response.
"I want the truth. There have been so many whispers and murmurs floating around the circuit, and now I've seen it first hand. That poltergeist forced its way past all our warding charms, entered his body, and ripped him apart from the inside out. It's not natural."
"Henry," Anne repeated, this time more sharply. I could sense her gaze on me, but I pretended to be straightening Gazzy's tie, which truthfully was askew. He had been tugging at it all afternoon. We were all uncomfortable in these formal clothes, though it wasn't difficult to find something black to wear.
Black was a staple of all hunters' wardrobes.
"Let's go," I muttered from the corner of my mouth. Henry had begun earnestly whispering to Anne once more, but I had heard all that I needed.
An experienced hunter falling prey to an unnaturally strong paranormal. The puzzle pieces were adding up, but I had yet to forge a link between them. That needed to change- and fast.
Gazzy, Dylan, and I forced a casual pace as we departed. As soon as we were out of range, though, we rushed toward the lounge room, where the flock was stationed for the day. They seemed surprised at our sudden entrance.
"What happened?" Nudge asked, eyes wide. She and Angel exchanged a strangely meaningful look from where they were huddled on the couch, mythology books from the library in their laps. Even Fang raised an eyebrow as he paused the video game he and Iggy had been playing.
I shed my fancy blouse in favor of the t-shirt beneath. Gears twisted and spun in my mind as I mulled over the information I had just learned. We needed a quick course of action whilst the population of the building was relatively preoccupied. By this point, Dylan and Gazzy were also displaying signs of confusion.
"Anne will be at that reception for at least an hour," I announced, chewing the inside of my lip thoughtfully.
Dylan began shaking his even before I could share my plan. "No. No way, Max."
I rolled my eyes. His defiance was a cute gesture, but totally useless. I had been considering the option for some time, but had yet to be offered an opportunity quite as golden as this.
"We might not get another chance," I insisted, having already made up my mind.
"Another chance for what?" Iggy demanded, chin swiveling from me to Dylan and back again.
I grinned. "To sneak into Anne's office, of course."
-o-o-o-
"Why was I chosen to crawl through the air ducts again?"
I slid along on my elbows and knees, practically army crawling along the sleek surface of the vent. I was doing my best to stare only directly ahead, lest I focus too much on the walls boxing me suffocatingly in on every side. Unlike the secret passageways my father had shared with me long ago, our venture today would take us mostly through the actual functioning system of the building. Inconvenient on so many levels, but still the most convenient way to move undetected from one place to another.
"You claustrophobic too?" I inquired, my voice a muffled echo along the passage.
"Too?" Fang demanded. "Why are we doing this if we're both claustrophobic?"
I inhaled deeply, attempting to control my breaths. In such close quarters, I could hear him doing the same. He didn't seem to care that I didn't respond. But seeing as he didn't talk much in any environment, I supposed it would have been hypocritical of him to expect me to engage in any manner of light chit chat … especially seeing as we were supposed to be behaving inconspicuously.
But to answer his first question, he was my best option. Dylan had to be the one keeping guard outside the door. I couldn't leave a member of the flock there, because they didn't really know Anne that well, and I definitely couldn't leave Gazzy, because as bright as the kid was, he was an awful improviser. I did want someone along to help me snoop, though- another pair of eyes to rifle through the endless files and folders. As you can imagine, there was noway was I taking the Gasman into a closed air vent.
So Fang it was.
We slid on in silence. Our entrance to the labyrinth of ventilation ducts had been in the rafters. Dylan had kept watch before heading to his position, but there were no people wandering the halls. Most everyone was being entertained in the cafeteria, where they were likely eating and making small talk, either avoiding the subject of the dead hunter or discussing his death and memory in hushed whispers. While using his funeral as a cover for our operation left a sour taste in my mouth, I knew that the closest we would get to any real answers was stashed away in Anne's office, which was rarely as unoccupied as it would be today. We had a slim window of time though, and I was bound and determined to figure out what was going on with the paranormal community and why.
"Here," I breathed, coming to a halt.
Through the slanted bars I could see down into Anne's empty office. By that time, Dylan should have been posted sentry outside the door, listening for any approaching intrusions. With a growing sense of giddy anticipation, I fished in my pocket for the flathead screwdriver I had brought along. Then, I used the narrow edge to pry the screen away from the ceiling of the room below. Before it could fall inward with a loud clatter, I grasped the corner and gently lowered it onto the nearest filing cabinet.
I glanced over my shoulder, though the movement forced me to crane my neck awkwardly. In the darkness, I could barely make out Fang's shape behind me. Vaguely, I discerned the motion of his hand telling me to continue. I shuffled clumsily in the compact space, until I sat at the edge of the vent. With a steely resolve, I lowered myself onto the top of a cabinet, and then hopped lightly to the floor. Fang shimmied out soon after. Once his feet touched the ground, he paused to fill his lungs with air. I wasn't the only one relieved to be out into the (relative) open again.
"Start looking," I ordered, bending beside her desk. A single tug revealed that the drawers were locked, though that wasn't a surprise.
"Where?" Fang muttered, as I began picking at the mechanism, which soon gave an audible click.
"Everywhere," I intoned.
He sighed, but began rifling through a stack of papers nonetheless. I ran my fingers over the tabs of the folders in the bottom drawer. They were mostly nonsense terms that made no impression on me whatsoever. Business jargon and tax logs and employee salary records. I moved quickly on and tackled the next drawer, which proved more fruitful.
Two laminated folders were stuffed into Accident Reports. One was labeled "personnel" and the other "experiments". The experiment folder logged all deaths of paranormals caused by experimental procedures enacted by the science department. The other listed brief descriptions of deaths and serious injuries to hunters or others working for the CSM. Unsurprisingly, the most recent entry was that of the hunter whose death had occurred just days ago. Before that, a blurb about Dylan's vampire encounter listed that he had been a near fatality. As I flipped back through the pages, I tried to make sense of all the words now swimming across my vision. When I had reached the dates preceding the latest Solstice, I noticed how sparing the reports became. Bigger and bigger leaps were made between accidents. I returned to the last chunk of pages and skimmed through the information. A small red dot was placed beside any deaths or injuries that occurred as a result of the Solstice. After that, many of the entries, including Dylan's, had a scribbled notation next to the date.
My assumption that there was something special about the attacks of late were being irrefutably reinforced by Anne's notes. I felt the knowledge bubbling up inside me, but I knew I was far from finished. I needed more.
By this time, Fang had managed to open a few of the filing cabinets. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just shook his head and bent back over the papers. His dark hair was mussed from our journey here, and it became only further disarrayed by his calloused fingers as he roughly raked his hand over and over his scalp. I watched him for a moment, rocking on his haunches as he flicked through the drawer with his brow drawn in concentration.
After a moment, he directed his eyes to me. Blinking, he said, "Aren't you supposed to be doing something?"
I shook myself and straightened my shoulders. Of course. I was wasting precious time. You can look at Fang later, I reprimanded myself. Or better yet, never.
I brushed my hands against my knees and shoved to a stand. Anne's chair had always looked rather inviting and comfortable. I smirked to myself as I sunk into it and wheeled closer to the desk. I could see where she got her authority. I could order people around all day sitting on this magnificent cushion. Before my imagination could wander any further, I forced my attention to the contents of the surface of the table.
"I don't suppose you know anything about computer hacking, do you?" I mused to Fang while running a finger over the hinge of Anne's laptop.
He shook his head. "You should have brought Nudge. She's got a thing for computers."
"And you couldn't have told me that before?" I demanded, shooting him a glare. There was probably twice as much information stored on that single device than there was hidden anywhere in the room. Though most of the important stuff would have been encrypted beyond belief, I was sure.
He responded with an infuriating shrug.
My hostile stare was having no effect on him, so I turned back to the desk. Another couple seconds of careful lock-picking and I had successfully opened the final drawer. I cradled my chin in the palm of my hand as I stared in confusion into the empty square. Why would she have a completely barren drawer when everything else was stuffed full of papers?
I reached forward, nails scrabbling along the edge of the wood. A strand of hair fell into my eyes, and I batted the dark blonde tendril away in irritation. With a soft "aha" of triumph, I pried the false bottom away to reveal whatever was so important that Anne went to such a measure to hide.
In bold red letters, the words Top Secret were stamped across the surface of the nondescript manilla folder. Anything labeled as such was just begging to be viewed by the wrong person. With excitement buzzing through every one of my nerves, I placed the folder flat on the desk, opened to the first page, and began to read.
After a moment my euphoria quickly turned to dread.
"Um … Fang?" I said uncertainly, drawing his attention toward me. He raised an eyebrow. "What was the place you told me about called? The place you got your … wings?"
He was at my side in an instant, all humor drained from his face. He leaned over my shoulder, his chest pressed against the back of my neck and his breath ruffling the hair at the top of my head. I ignored the fire racing through my veins at his proximity and pointed. He followed along with my finger as we both read the words over and over.
The School.