Guardians of the Edge: Last of the Portal Keys

Chapter Four : The Prize

Aiden slid across the floor to the prize while his desperate mind tried to make sense of what happened. Two things occurred at exactly that moment to make his life more complicated. One, the heat from the released glow sped up the melting of the dry ice and reactivated the sensors. And two, he registered the alarm system as he realized the truth.

Nothing was as it should be and he was alone.

Out of choices and the ability to think, Aiden operated on pure instinct, guided by life-long training. He gathered up his parent's packs and spun on the prize. The six-inch square box stared back at him. For a heartbeat, he quailed. This was what they had risked so much for? A lump of yellowish, boring rock with worn-out etchings on it? Aiden's anger flared, tempered by fear. He scooped up the offending object and stuffed it in his jacket, spinning as he did, heading for the door.

He had seconds to act. What had happened to Antoinette's failsafe? The transmitter on the fourth floor should have been sufficient to keep the alarms from sounding, no matter what happened. The layers of protection his parents always insisted on had never failed them. Until now. He could only guess the guards somehow located the mobile unit or it failed catastrophically at just the wrong moment.

Aiden's logical brain kicked in while his heart howled for his parents. The system the museum used wasn't site specific, so the multiple acts of sabotage they initiated would at least keep the guards from pin-pointing the exact location of the breach, and should make it look like an overall systems malfunction rather than a break-in. Still, they would realize something interfered with their system and come looking for the source.

He had to force himself to stop at the door, to ease it open, take a peek rather than race headlong out into the hall back the way he'd come. Both guards were still at the desk, arguing over the situation. Emotion took over, panic shoving him out the door and toward the stairway entrance.

Bad luck rode close behind him. One of the guards shouted at him as he made it to the door and pulled. His eyes widened, terror notched up as he jerked on the door.

Locked.

Instincts honed to a razor's edge spun him away from the guards. Not thinking, only reacting, Aiden ran deeper into the building, hearing the pounding of booted feet and the shouts for him to stop where he was, both of which he ignored in his desperate search for an exit.

The blueprints flashed in his mind. Just beyond the next door was another stairway entrance. Despite the nearness of the guard, Aiden dove for it.

A slice of luck returned as the door slammed open to his overly enthusiastic pull. He ran through and spun, kicking the heavy steel portal closed and sliding the locking pin in place as the guard came pounding up. He stared into the face of the guard as the man banged his fists against the small window of glass before leaving Aiden's view.

His training drove him to run the four flights to the roof. Panting and gasping for air around the mad racing of his pulse, he emerged on the other side of the building. Any thought of going for the pirate transmitter was gone in a flash. His half-masked face was plastered on their cameras. Now they knew there was a breach, covering his tracks was irrelevant.

Run, Eric said. If in doubt, use your feet.

Aiden struggled with the two extra packs, slinging them over his chest as he crept to the edge of the roof and looked down. One of the guards stood in the yard, talking on a cell phone. He heard the echoing song of a police siren as it drew closer and closer. Time was up. He had to move.

Aiden tried to forget about his parents, struggling for focus through the soft, panting breaths torn from his throat as he slid down the rope they used minutes before to scale the wall. He hit the ledge of the first floor window and took immediate hold of the second rope, sliding over the edge. His foot hit the titanium piton just as he settled his weight, knocking it loose. Aiden felt the lurch and knew he was in for a fall.

The piton held halfway, releasing its hold to drop him seven feet to the ground. Encumbered as he was, with the extra packs throwing him off-balance, his attempt to spin around and land on his feet failed. His shoulder hit the ground first, hard, knocking the wind out of him. Aiden lay gasping for a moment, absolute failure pinning him to the dirt while he watched from his small patch of darkness as the first police car pulled up to the entrance of the museum.

He couldn't move, no matter how hard he tried. His breathless body refused to obey beyond a weak twitch of his hands and feet, heart over taxed, lungs straining. In that instant, when he knew he was done, that he'd lost everything, he had failed, a blanket of quiet settled around him.

There's always a way out, Antoinette said. A good thief never gives up.

Aiden's heart slowed, his body relaxing as his strength slowly came back. The calm remained as he watched one officer retreat inside with the guard while the second flipped on a flashlight and started toward him, making long, low sweeps with the light.

Aiden systematically fought his useless body. His mother was right. There was no way he would quit, not now, not like this. He couldn't get caught. He refused to let his parents down any more than he felt he already had.

The light came closer. Aiden pulled air into his lungs, choking on it, certain the guard heard. A new surge of adrenaline boosted his reserves, cutting at the stillness inside him. He smelled the approaching man's aftershave, carried on the breeze. With a monumental effort, he gathered himself and, by sheer force of will, flung himself forward and into the next pool of blackness just as the officer's light brushed over where he had been.

Aiden pressed himself into the darkness of an old oak. Moving somehow speeded his recovery though he was honest enough to admit his fear had a big part in his immobility.

He made it to the wall, dragging himself over the dew-wet grass, leaving a trail for the officer to follow, but was without the time to correct it. Aiden uncoiled a small rope and grapple, snapping the thing open from its flattened travel state and tossed it over the wall. He allowed only one tug as a test before scrambling up the brick and over the top.

The dark street on the other side awaited him, wrapping him up in safety and comfort. He heard the call of the officer to his partner, muffled from behind the thick barrier. Aiden couldn't make out the words, but the intonation spoke volumes. They found his trail and were close behind him.

The night and the pavement were on his side, not theirs, the darkness swallowing him up like an old friend, the dirty, dusty asphalt leaving no trace of his path.

Aiden wove his way through several streets and to a quiet business park, easing his way into the parking lot of a van rental company and to the black cube his parents rented with false ID.

Aiden fumbled a moment in Antoinette's pack, searching for the keys, near to leaping from his own skin when the ring jangled against the pavement as it slipped free and hit the ground. He crouched and retrieved them, opening the lock. The side door slid open with a low whoosh. Aiden hopped in, dumping the packs beside him as he slid the door closed and locked the van from the inside.

The moment he was safe, Aiden's entire body began to shake, violent trembling that chattered his teeth together and drew gulping sobs from his chest. He pressed both hands to his face, j*********f the bottom half of his mask, suddenly unable to draw enough air through the thin fabric. Bent in half, stomach churning, Aiden gasped huge breaths with his head between his knees, tears dripping from his cheeks to patter against the heavy nylon of Antoinette's pack. He sobbed in silence, holding himself, rocking slowly forward and back as he finally released the taut pressure he'd carried since the moment his parents vanished.

Vanished. Gone. Aiden screamed inside his head, mouth hanging open in silent protest. How? Where? His shoulders caved forward as he crumpled again, overwhelmed by loss.

By the time his grief and terror ran itself out, his logical mind was able to pull him together and reassemble the events of the night for his examination. Not his fault. He was sure of it, though the private, doubting part of him who followed him everywhere whispered otherwise. Aiden forced himself to sit in the dark for a long time, his trembling under better control, trying not to force the memories, gathering his energy as he replayed the events over and over.

As he shifted at last from his hunched position, hands swiping at the tears drying on his cheeks, something jabbed against his breast-bone. Not thinking, Aiden reached into his jacket and pulled out the prize.

Irrational hatred for the thing stung him with a jab of rage. He had to clutch it in both hands to keep from throwing the thing against the van wall. Instead, knowing it had to be important, he made himself study the cube of yellow stone with only the faint light of a nearby streetlamp for illumination. His fury eased as he ran his thumb over the worn etchings. The writing was unfamiliar, if it even was writing, but he knew the long, thin c***k down the center of it couldn't be good. It was light for its size and seemed unnaturally warm in his hands.

This thing did something to them, Aiden thought with a revived quiver of anger. Somehow, that flash of light! He set the stone carefully down on the floor of the van when the compulsion to toss it become strong again and he shivered. This is crazy. It's just a rock. It seemed to stare silently back at him, as if waiting for him to act. Aiden rubbed his face with both hands, his body now drained as the last of the adrenaline left his system. But his fear never left him.

What am I going to do? Panic rose within him again. I can't do this by myself! I need to find them, but how do I find them? His mind began to spin out of control, driving him back into the sobbing mess he'd been when he first entered the van. I need my mom and dad. What am I going to do without them?

His training rose up like a living thing, shaking him physically, the sound of his father's voice almost slapping him with the strength of its message.

Fear is the enemy, Eric said. Use the energy, lose the emotion.

Aiden gulped one last sob. His father was right, was always right. And maybe they were gone, but Aiden was going to find his parents. A new sense of purpose, one he refused to allow doubt to touch, filled him with determination. His chest heaved as he sighed deeply, breathing away the last of his desperate panic and centered himself. No way was he letting them down. They'd trained him better than that.

Aiden retrieved the stone and returned it to his jacket as he used calm and rationale to consider his options.

They disappeared, he told himself as a prickle of fear tried to work its way back in. I didn't abandon them. They are gone and wherever it is they went, I'm going to find them.

How? Fear asked.

One last moment of grief-fed hesitation was all he allowed himself. By getting to the bottom of what this thing is, Aiden thought. Time to find out what we got ourselves into.

Should have listened to me, Fear whispered. I warned you, didn't I?

Oh, shut up, Aiden thought.

Aiden drew on everything his parents taught him as he sat there and tried to come up with a plan. He had his license, but was too young to drive a rental, so the van was out. Rules mattered when breaking them increased his risk of being noticed. Not that it mattered. The original plan had him escaping on foot anyway. He could go to the rendezvous point and meet Tremaine, their patron, or he could hunt down his parent's only friend, their fence, and see if Lawrence knew anything about the prize. He was the one, after all, who set them up with their current employer. He should be able to help.

Aiden was unwilling to face Tremaine alone, knowing the man would just take the stone, leaving Aiden with no chance to find his parents. Which meant his options were limited to one.

He chose Lawrence.

Aiden changed his clothes, muscles aching from the fall and the massive panic attack. It took him a little longer than usual to switch out from his nocturnal uniform to a simple t-shirt and jeans, a bulky jacket over top. The coat was perfect, full of pockets, one of which he filled with the prize.

He followed protocol out of instinct, emptying both of his parent's packs of anything he could use. Aiden took his father's lucky lighter as he inspected Antoinette's hand-held. The whole unit was scorched black. He cracked open the case and noted with some shock the entire board was fused, melted to slag as though it had been in a fire. He tossed it to the floor of the van and took a moment to check his own. The LCD winked at him. Unable to explain any of it and the threat of another breakdown imminent if he didn't just keep moving, Aiden pushed on with what was needed of him. Even if his parents were somehow still in that museum and managed to make it back, they would expect him to follow standing orders.

The rented cube had to go. The slim black can of kerosene sat behind the driver's seat, in easy reach. Aiden doused the entire interior before coating all four tires with a liberal dose for the paint job. He acted quickly despite the fact he was alone and in near darkness. His father's silver lighter flickered to life, a thick, steady flame casting a soft golden glow over his hand as he crouched and lit the line of fuel he'd run from the van. Flames burned blue as they wicked their way down the trail and zoomed to the doomed vehicle. Aiden didn't look back as he turned to go, feeling the whoosh of superheated air against his back as the vehicle caught fire.

Job done, he left the empty parking lot and ran off into the warm darkness.

***