A Knight Of The Word

Then he waited.

He did not know when the attack would come, but he did know that until the moment of his intervention, history would repeat itself and the events of the dream would transpire exactly as related by Teddy’s mother. It was up to him to choose just when he would try to alter the outcome.

He couched in the darkness of his hiding place and listened to the sounds of the school about him as the day began. The storage room had sufficient space that he was able to change positions and move around so his leg didn’t stiffen up. He had brought food. Time slipped away. No one came to the auditorium. Nothing unusual occurred.

Then the doors burst open, and Ross could hear the screams and cries of children, the pleas of several women, and the angry, rough voices of men fill the room. Ross waited patiently, the storage door cracked open just far enough that he could see what was happening. A hooded figure bounded onto the stage between the half-closed curtains, glanced around hurriedly, and began barking orders. A second figure joined him. The women and children filed hurriedly into the front rows of the theatre an response to the men’s directions.

Still Ross waited.

One of the men had a cell phone. It rang, and he began talking into it, growing increasingly angry. He jumped down off the stage, screaming obscenities into the mouthpiece. Ross slipped out of the storage room, the black staff gleaming with the magic’s light. He moved slowly, steadily through the shadows, closing on the lone man who stood at the front of the stage. The man held a handgun, but he was looking at his captives. Ross could see a third man now, one standing at the far side of the roam, looking out the door into the hallway.

Ross tame up to the man standing on the stage and levelled him with a single blow of the staff. He caught a glimpse of the other two, the one on the phone stall yelling and screaming with his back turned, the other wheeling in surprise as he caught sight of Ross. The children’s eyes went wide as Ross appeared, and with a sweep of his staff Ross threw a heavy blanket of magic over the children, a weighted net that forced them to lower their heads and shield their eyes. The man at the door was swinging his AK-47 around to fire as Ross hit him with a bolt of bright magic and knocked him senseless.

The third man dropped the phone, still screaming, and brought up a second AK-47. But Ross was waiting for him as well, and again the magic lanced from the staff. A burst from the man’s weapon sprayed the ceiling harmlessly as he went down in a heap.

Ross scanned the room swiftly for other kidnappers. There were none. Just the three. The children and their teacher and two other women were still crouched in their seats, weighted down by the magic. Ross lifted it away, setting them free. No one was hurt. Everything was all right...

Then he saw the feeders, dozens of them, oozing through cracks in the windows and doors, sliding out of corners and alcoves, dark shadows gathering to feast, sensing something that was hidden from him.

Ross wheeled about in desperation, searching everywhere at once, his heart pounding, his mind racing...

And police burst through the doors and windows, shattering wood and glass. Someone was yelling, Throw down your weapons! Now, now, now! The women and children were screaming anew, scrambling out of their seats in terror, and someone was yelling, He’s got a gun! Shoot him, shoot him! Ross was trying to tell them, No, no, it’s all right, it’s okay now! But no one was listening, and everything was chaotic and out of control, and the feeders were leaping about in a frenzy, climbing over everything, and there were weapons firing everywhere, catching the kidnapper who was just coming to his knees in front of the stage, still too stunned to know what was happening, lifting him in a red spatter and dropping him back again in a crumpled heap, and small bodies were being struck by the bullets as well, hammered sideways and sent flying as screams of fear turned to shrieks of pain, and still the voice was yelling, He’s got a gun, he’s got a gun! Even though Ross still couldn’t see any gun, couldn’t understand what the voice was veiling about, the police kept firing, over and over and over into the children.. ,