Lucy shoved against his rock hard chest. She might as well have pushed against a brick wall. He wrapped his arms around her and locked her in a death-like grip, a mockery of a loving embrace. She couldn't move, couldn't fight him, couldn't escape. He pulled her to the hatch, presumably trying to get her onto the helicopter above them before this plane crashed and burned.
Luke struggled with his own captor. He made more headway than her, marginally. Their circumstances didn't allow for much in the way of true fighting, and Luke remained exhausted after his torture.
The men made it to the hatch, cables hanging and waiting for them to attach themselves so they could be pulled to the helicopter.
Lucy couldn't let them capture her and her brother. This could be the only chance they had to escape; once they were onboard the helicopter, it would be near impossible with the level of para-power and manpower Beleth controlled. She thought fast, assessing her tools. Their parachutes were still attached, as were their tank-less breathing systems and backpacks. Below them, the ocean swirled and consumed the world. The dark sky beckoned like a black hole into nothing.
Still, better than the alternative. With her crazy-suicidal-probably-will-die-trying plan in place, Lucy waited until Bethel released her in order to hook her to the cables. When his partner did the same with Luke, Lucy tackled her brother... and pushed him out of the plane.
She held him tightly as they dropped into the night. Luke returned her grip and smiled. Such a guy!
"Hope you have a plan here, Luce. Not that I don't love a good adrenaline high," he said through the rush of wind and the sting of rain.
Breaths came in small, shallow pulses, but at least they were free.
"Um, Sis, we've got company."
Lucy looked up, and nearly choked on the rain when her mouth fell open in shock. Bethel had jumped out of the plane in pursuit. Head first like a rocket, and gaining ground. What the hell? He isn't wearing a parachute. Is he insane?
He sliced through the sky as fluidly as his sword had sliced through Morrison's hand. How could he catch up so fast?
Lucy's heart raced as she tried to think of something, anything to slow his pursuit. She caught Luke's eyes, and he nodded, understanding.
Lucy counted. "One...."
She could see Bethel's face, but not his eyes. Something black, like small wings, sprouted from his back.
"Two...."
Closer.
And... when the whites of his eyes came into view....
"Three!" Lucy clutched Luke tighter.
Luke's body stiffened as he focused his power. The sphere pulsed frenetically. Luke put up one hand and....
Beleth slammed into the field Luke had created, and ricocheted off it like a bouncy ball against a wall.
Luke and Lucy continued to fall. If they hadn't been in a race for their lives, Lucy would have enjoyed the descent. She loved skydiving and parachuting, but this was not for sport. Still, she couldn't help but embrace the freedom of soaring through the sky, unfettered from reality. She'd have given anything to have this para-power: the power of flight.
Lightning flashed, tearing Lucy from her joy and illuminating the bright sky with another vision: one of a black silhouette with wings.
She acted fast, flipping downwards while Luke helped open her parachute. It slowed them down, temporarily.
A current of wind drove through them, sending the parachute in conflicting directions. They began to fall too fast. The water beneath them rose up like a giant mouth. If they hit it going this fast, they would drown, pulled down by the ocean and their parachute.
"Luke, make a wall of air beneath us, but not thick. To slow us, not stop us."
Luke nodded and held out his hand. He looked so tried, so weak, but he raised his hand and focused his power.
Panic filled her even as she pushed it away. Oh-my-God-oh-my-God-oh-my-God.... The ocean rushed up to them, water sprayed them, and Lucy prepared for what could be the end.
Chapter 64 – Steele
It all came down to him.
When his son had died he knew he'd have to finish the plan alone. But then his son, the Seeker, had been weak, unable to go the distance.
Mr. Steele could—and would.
He looked down at the body lying on the bed. They were all just bodies to be used and tested. They meant nothing except for what they could give him. This body had been badly damaged, but there was one who could fix it.
He motioned to the guards standing by the door of the hospital room. "Send her in."
A petite ten-year-old with long auburn hair glared at him with fire in her green eyes, and stroked the snow white cat in her arms.
The room crowded around him with so many people, but he ignored the sensation. Soon enough he'd be alone in his cavernous rooms, after he handled this.
He pointed a long finger at the cat. "What is that thing doing here?"
The guard on the right stepped forward. "She wouldn't leave it. Said she couldn't heal without it. You told us not to hurt her, so it seemed the easiest way to get her here."
"And the mother?"
"Dead."
The scowl on the girl's face collapsed into tears.