The Last Raven: An Urban Fantasy Noir (Riftborn Book 1), page 4
The cell contained the bed I was sat on, a small toilet and shower cubicle with a shower curtain that you pulled around yourself. There was a small table and single wooden chair, and a bookcase that could probably house a dozen books, although it was currently empty.
I ran my hands through my hair and sighed. I’d allowed myself to get captured because I wanted answers about Dr Mitchell’s operation. I wanted to know what she was up to, and I also wanted to know why she had a medallion from the Raven Guild.
There was a light tap on the door of my cell.
Dr Mitchell stood in the hallway beyond my cell, with the guard who had hit me in the face. She wore the black-and-white dress she’d been wearing when I’d first seen her.
“You’ve finally woken up,” she said.
“You been out there the whole time?” I asked, looking over at her.
“No,” she said with a chuckle. “I have better things to do, Your Majesty.”
I vaguely remembered telling her I was the Queen of Finland. “How long was I out?”
“A few hours,” she said. “We had to get you dressed.”
I looked down and noticed the light blue scrubs. “Brings out my eyes,” I told her.
“You’re also wearing something quite special,” she said. “Under the scrubs.”
I unfastened the scrub top, removing it and looking down at the black, skintight top. I pulled the scrub waistband away and discovered it was a bodysuit.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Every guest here wears one,” she said. “They stop your ability to tap into the rift. Or, in the case of a riftborn, their embers.”
That explained the headache and overall feeling of crappiness. I hadn’t healed.
The embers are something all riftborn have. They’re a sort of gateway between the rift and earth, but they’re like a personal pocket dimension that only riftborn can use. Every riftborn has their own embers, and every ember looks different. To maintain their power, riftborn have to enter the embers every month, and are forced to if seriously injured. Time moves differently in the embers. The more injured a riftborn is, the more time they have to stay in the embers. It’ll only feel like a few hours to the riftborn, but it can be days or weeks for time on Earth and the rift.
Wilfully cutting yourself off from your embers means not using your powers for months at a time. It has the benefit of passing rift-fused security precautions by appearing to be human.
“I’m human,” I told her. It was a lie, but it was a lie I’d been practising for a few months. Isaac had come to me about getting onto the island but needing a human to do it. Three months with no accessing my abilities had left me, for all intents and purposes, utterly human. What they didn’t know is that the second I got this damn second skin off, I was going to access my embers. What happened after that wasn’t going to be good for them.
“Can’t be too careful,” she said.
“Why am I here?” I asked.
“Why did you break into my office?” Dr Mitchell countered. “We’ve spoken to the crew you came with; they’re all as mystified as we are. You joined the crew as a new member, you barely socialised with them, and you left the second you could. The captain isn’t best pleased at what you’ve done.”
“You didn’t hurt them, did you?” I asked.
“No,” Dr Mitchell snapped. “I’m not in the habit of hurting people just because a member of their people is stupid. Why are you here?”
“I’m a reporter,” I said. “Heard rumours about mistreatment of rift-fused. Of humans. Wanted to find out.”
“Did a guard tell you that?” Dr Mitchell asked.
“Don’t remember,” I told her. “Might have been. Might have been through a Ouija board. One of the spirits of the dead you killed came back to get revenge.”
Dr Mitchell’s eyes narrowed in irritation. “Ghosts? Really?”
I shrugged.
“Do not feed me bullshit,” Dr Mitchell said. “You want to write a story so badly, let me show you the facility. First, you will tell me your name.”
“Lucas Rurik,” I said, hoping that Isaac had gotten my backstory sorted.
“Rurik,” Dr Mitchell said. “There was a king by that name.”
“About a thousand years ago,” I said. “No relation.”
“Against the wall,” the guard demanded.
I got up and walked over to the far wall, placing my cheek against the cool stone, as an even cooler breeze wafted in from the window above me.
“Lace your fingers behind your back,” the guard snapped. “Any deviation will be met with force.”
I did exactly what I was told to do.
There was a hiss of air as my door slid open and I waited patiently while the cuffs were clipped onto my wrists.
“That’s a good little boy,” the guard said, patting me on the head.
I thrust down the instinct to rip his patronizing tongue from his mouth as he turned me to face him. He smiled and shoved me out into the hallway.
“Follow me,” Dr Mitchell said.
The hall had barred windows on one side, overlooking the grounds in front of the prison. The sky was overcast, and there was a smell of impending rain.
The guard shoved me, and I started to walk, occasionally looking outside at the twenty-five-foot chain-link fence that surrounded the entire property.
“You yearning for freedom?” the guard asked with a chuckle.
“Just wondering why the fence is necessary,” I said.
“To keep people like you in,” he snapped.
“We’re five storeys up, there are bars on the windows, dozens of guards, two guard towers with snipers, and, most importantly, we’re on an island in the middle of nowhere.”
The guard shoved me forward. “Think you’re a smart mouth?” He snapped.
“No, he asks a good question,” Dr Mitchell said, turning back to me. “We have over a hundred guests here. Some are more dangerous than others. But some of them have dangerous friends. The fencing, the snipers, they’re all necessary to ensure that no one tries anything stupid.”
We reached the first set of doors, behind which stood two more guards. They let us through without comment, and we continued to the lifts, which we took down to the first floor.
This floor was busier, with several people in lab coats looking over in my direction as we walked along the white-tiled floor to the office at the far end of the floor.
Dr Mitchell stopped to talk to several people, all of whom glanced in my direction, some with disdain, and some with a smile and greed in their eyes. The latter creeped me out a lot more than the former.
We continued on through the floor until we reached a checkpoint with three armed guards. Dr Mitchell spoke to one of the guards, although I didn’t hear what she said, and walked to the lift beyond, using a key card to open the doors.
I was bundled into the large lift and Dr Mitchell used her key card again on a small digital panel, which flashed red twice and we set off again.
We were moving down at what felt like a slow pace, although after thirty seconds, I wondered just how far under the island we were.
“I see why you chose the island,” I said.
The lift stopped and the doors opened, revealing a corridor with red lights imbedded in the floor, giving it a creepy and unpleasant vibe. Something the whole bloody island had, if I was honest.
There was a large metal door at the end of the hallway, which opened as we drew close, revealing more of the red-tinged hallway as it split off into three. Dr Mitchell took the left turn and we walked past several windows showing one huge laboratory inside.
Dr Mitchell stopped outside of a set of metal double doors. “Do you know what we do down here?” She asked me. “Be honest.”
“I was told you’re experimenting on humans and rift-fused,” I said; there was no point in lying. “I don’t know to what end, but I do know you’re torturing people. Killing them. That some of the people here are dangerous criminals that you purchased from private prisons on the mainland.”
“Which you’ll never be able to prove,” Dr Mitchell said smugly.
“Well done,” I said. “You must be proud.”
I got a punch to the kidney for that. I dropped to one knee; the air left my body. I turned back to the guard. “Damn it, I thought we were going to be friends.”
He went to hit me again, but Dr Mitchell stopped him. “Lucas Rurik, do you know why you’re here right now and not in the ocean being food for the animals?”
“Because you secretly love me?” I asked. “I’m not sure we’re meant to be.”
Dr Mitchell grabbed my jaw and pushed my head up to meet her gaze. “Because I already checked you out,” she said. “You’ve been out for a few hours. Enough time for me to get your fingerprints checked. Lucas Rurik, reporter for the BBC.”
I owed Isaac and Hannah each a beer.
“You’re going to write everything you see,” Dr Mitchell said. “And once you’re done, if I like what I read, you’re going to get the scoop on the biggest story you’ve ever known. Otherwise, we can make you just disappear.”
I kept my mouth closed.
Dr Mitchell released her grip from my jaw, and I got to my feet as she used her keycard to open the set of doors, which took us into a large room with freezers along one wall and metal surgical tables in the middle. A morgue. One of the tables was stained red with blood, and there were jars of various parts of anatomy on display on shelves along the far right wall. The opposite end of the room was a metal door, which Dr Mitchell walked over to and pushed open.
“Mr Rurik,” she said with a flourish.
I stepped inside, wondering what was going to befall me the second I did, and instead stared in horror at the thing in front of me.
“Guard Tobias Moore,” Dr Mitchell said.
I continued to stare at the naked body of the guard. He had been tied to a metal post, in a crucifixion pose, and someone had cut through his chest, opening the cavity to reveal the organs inside—although they were in jars by his feet. The huge flaps of skin had been pinned back, making him look a little like he had wings.
Blood was everywhere.
The smell hit me all at once. The smell of blood and shit.
“Lucas Rurik,” Dr Mitchell said. “I believe you know the guard who told you about our operation.”
I couldn’t speak; I had no idea what to say. What was done to him was nothing more than the work of a psychopathic mind. A monster. I looked over at Dr Mitchell.
“Now you may ask questions,” she said with the first genuine smile I’d seen since arriving.
CHAPTER FOUR
Now
A tiny sliver of light broke through the curtains, shining a sunbeam directly onto my face. I tried to swat it away as though it were a fly, and it took me several seconds to realise that it wasn’t something that could be removed with an annoyed flail of my arm.
It was after nine a.m., which meant I’d probably slept for five hours in total and wouldn’t be going back to sleep any time soon.
After a brief bout of cursing at the curtains’ lack of doing their job, I got up and made myself a cup of coffee, using a Star Wars mug that Meredith had given me as a birthday gift and was about twice the size of every other mug I owned. Perfect for that first cup of coffee in the morning. I took my first sip just as the phone rang.
I picked the phone up on the second ring. “Hello,” I said, hoping it wasn’t someone trying to sell something.
“Lucas.” Isaac’s voice brought back memories of when I’d last spoken to him. He sounded tired, upset. Scared. I’d never heard Isaac sound scared before. It put me on edge.
“Isaac?” I asked.
“I didn’t want to do this,” he said. “But we need help. I need help.”
“Help with what?” I asked him, feeling a tightness in my chest. I hadn’t spoken to Isaac in nearly four years. “What the hell is going on?”
Isaac took a deep breath. “You know of Gosnell Big Woods Preserve, it’s near Rochester?”
“No, should I?” I asked.
“There was a fiend attack there a few hours ago,” Isaac told me. “Three days ago, two members of the public were mauled to death. So, the FBI had a team out this morning, with RCU members attached. The team were attacked. Three FBI agents and four of my people were killed. Two more RCU agents are in the ICU. Including Dan.”
Oh, shit. “Dan is hurt?” I asked. “Sorry, I know you’ve lost four people, Isaac. I’m sorry about that. Are Dan and the other agent going to be okay? What about Gabriel, Hannah, and Ji-hyun?”
“Gabriel is fine,” Isaac said. “He doesn’t work for the RCU anymore. Ji-hyun is in Los Angeles. She’s working with an RCU team out there. Hannah is at home; she’s fine too. Dan and Annie are both in surgery.”
The rift-fused are a hardy bunch, and they live long lives, but they can still be hurt. Still be killed. Modern medicine helps heal what the natural body can’t, but they’re not impervious to pain and damage.
The RCU was a worldwide agency a bit like Interpol but for crimes involving the rift in one way or another. They had several branches just in America, with each branch having up to three teams working for it. To have nearly a whole team wiped out was shocking to say the least. And by fiends was . . . well, it was unheard of.
“What do you need?” I asked Isaac.
“I know you left for time away,” Isaac said. “I know you needed that time to sort your head out. But I need your help.”
“Whatever you need,” I told him immediately.
Isaac said. “The FBI are currently guarding the injured at the hospital. Everyone is worried people higher up are going to start pointing fingers, that there are rumours the RCU fucked up. We didn’t fuck up, Lucas. I’ve stood the rest of Dan’s team down until we can find out what the hell is going on. The rest of the branch are still working though, just in case of more attacks.”
“Since when did the FBI work on a joint operation with the RCU?” I asked.
“It’s a long story,” Isaac told me, sounding less than happy about it.
“They’re looking to merge you with the FBI, aren’t they?” I asked. It had been something that those in positions of power had wanted to do back before I’d walked away. The directors of the FBI had lobbied those in charge of the RCU and had been told to go away and worry about their own organisation. I got the feeling that hadn’t changed during my time away.
“I’ll tell you all about it when you get here,” Isaac said, clearly not wanting to get into it further. “In the meantime, the FBI are investigating, with my cooperation.”
“And the fiends that attacked your team?” I asked.
“Dead.” Isaac said.
“Good,” I told him. “What do you need from me?”
“I’ve been given dispensation to bring on someone from outside the RCU to help with the investigation,” Isaac said. “I want you. This stinks to high heaven. No RCU members are going to get jumped by a couple of greater fiends that they’re out hunting. Never going to happen to anyone with even a modicum of experience.”
“You want me to look into it?” I said, trying to get my head around the fact that my life had just spun 180 in the last few seconds.
“Please,” Isaac said. “I can have the RCU jet meet you and get you to Rochester. I’ve called in a favour to a friend of mine who lives near you. He’s an ex-cop. He’s going to pick you up, drive you to the airport. He’ll be about fifteen minutes.”
“In New York?” I asked, and something dawned on me. “You’d already contacted him. You knew I’d come back.”
“You’ve been out for four years, but I know you, Lucas,” Isaac said. “And I doubt very much that you’ve changed so much in four years that you would say no.”
I didn’t like that he’d already decided what my answer would be, but he wasn’t wrong. I didn’t like that much, either.
“Is it going to be on the news?” I asked.
“Six p.m. tonight,” Isaac said. “We might have been able to hold it off, but humans got killed. They’re being told right now about what happened. Wrong place, wrong time. The FBI are handling it. We managed to get the press to hold off until it was done. It’s not like the old days, when people didn’t have mobile phones and easy access to share everything they see.”
“Is there film of the fiends?” I asked.
“No,” Isaac said. “Thankfully. Lots of people on social media talking about having seen fiends in the preserve, though. I’ll have someone meet you at the airport in Rochester; they’ll drive you to the hospital in Hamble. I’ll meet you there.”
“See you in a few hours,” I told him. “Stay safe.”
“Thank you, Lucas.” Isaac said. “Your help, it means a lot.”
“Anytime, my friend,” I said, and disconnected the call as the memories of the dreams I’d had flashed back to the front of my mind. I stood still, frozen in place as the realization of what I’d just done crashed down on me. I hadn’t spoken to Isaac in four years. I’d given him my number for an emergency, and he’d never used it in all this time. The RCU had lost people in the most violent way possible, on what sounded like a routine hunt. FBI agents had been killed too. And the human media were about to shine a big spotlight on the rift-fused.
My friend was in the ICU. I hadn’t seen Dan in years, but he was a good guy and a good RCU agent. If something had attacked him and his team, it had been something incredibly dangerous. It took me a few minutes to process everything, before I got to my feet and threw some essentials into an overnight bag.
I pushed the thoughts of nerves at returning to my old life, seeing old friends, aside. I did the same to the sadness and anger about what had happened to Dan and his team. Delving into those emotions wouldn’t help me right now. I needed to concentrate on what I could actually do. Get a bag ready, get to the airport, get to Rochester. Those were things I had control over.
