Ascent Read online

  Ascent

  The Lit Series

  Book 2

  Mark Anthony

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Copyright

  Dedication

  To Charlotte and Andrew.

  “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery

  that mediocrity can pay to greatness.”

  Oscar Wilde

  Chapter 1

  They began to run, the three of them racing down the path toward the buildings, Ellie and Josh to the silo, Sam to the building with the hall. Ellie watched as Sam deviated to his path. He turned briefly to face her, and for a moment, something moved between them. An understanding, a commonality that neither had ever shared before. There were now three of them here and this provided a hint of kinship that neither had ever felt throughout their entire lives. It was for that moment that Sam had gone back for them.

  “DON’T LET HIM IN ELLIE! YOU HEAR ME!” he yelled “FUCK HIM UP FOR ANOTHER YEAR! DON'T LET HIM IN!”

  As flippant as this was, as brash a statement and as unfamiliar as Ellie was to this way of thinking, she couldn't help but hear those words repeating loudly in her head. She suddenly felt a surge of urgency, energy, and renewed determination.

  Across the city a young woman ran quickly down the dark wet street. Her long, auburn hair sodden and plastered across her face. Her dress stuck to her skin from the rain that gushed down upon her. With every flash of lightning the lone figure, confused and erratic, felt the darkness behind closing in. There was no time. Her lungs burned with each icy breath. Her legs were numb.

  The blue flame had gone but she knew that this was temporary. She had not managed to get away. Where was it? She couldn’t hear it, but that didn’t matter. She couldn’t hear its macabre voice, though she knew it wasn’t far. It never was. It was always watching. She didn’t know what it was. She only knew what it could do. Her husband and his mother had become, just moments ago, its latest victims. Numbers 1 through 14 kept echoing in her mind. She was so used to keeping a tally. It was automatic. Thirteen and fourteen had intruded into the night trying to convince her to go with them. “You need help” they had said, “just calm down.”

  She argued with them, pleaded with them to listen. She thought she had been covert. She thought they hadn’t noticed her increasing anxiety over the last two weeks. They had. Just before she had begun to set the final preparations in place they staged an intervention. They had entered her deceased grandmother’s home and found her. They looked at the circle of blood upon the floor. They saw her mounds of camphor upon the old, matted carpet. They had seen the bandage on her arm, covering a fresh, deep laceration and assumed she had lost her mind.

  She pleaded with them to leave her alone. The time was approaching. They had to leave. They wouldn’t listen, and in her panic, in her desperation to be understood, an argument began. Perhaps it was the fear of this day that had been building up for the past 12 months. Maybe it was their reluctance to listen or the impossible task of explaining it to them in a way that, with the clock grimly ticking, would make sense. She had Lit them. The timing couldn’t have been worse. Instead of being in the prepared Circle, which was just metres away, she had to watch as they were taken and dissected by the Doctor. Only then returning to her world with the Circle destroyed, now dead and ineffective. She was open, completely unprotected and it had begun.

  As hopeless as she knew her situation was, she fled. Driving into the twilight. Fleeing with no plan and the knowledge that it was now all too late. She was overcome with fear, panic, and grief. Wracked with disbelief. How the hell did this go so wrong? It was then that its black mottled face and lifeless white eyes suddenly appeared in the rear-view mirror.

  It might hurt a bit.

  Its long, drape-like clothes were splattered with blood, coated in fragments of her recently taken husband. In an instant the blue flame engulfed her. Now, it burnt. She threw herself from the vehicle hitting the ground hard. She began to run. Her mind grappled for a plan that she knew didn’t exist. Never had she been so awake, so acutely aware of every sensation that bombarded her. The rain hit her skin like pebbles. The searing pain of the burnt skin on her hands and forearms gained momentary relief by the icy water. Lightning gave quick confusing glimpses of unfamiliar streets.

  There was silence. Her heart pounded in her ears as she looked about. It was almost peaceful. It hadn’t let her rest for days. But now, standing in the rain, in this stark reality, there was the smallest pang of peace. It was short lived as her wet and blurred vision caught a glimpse of the spectacular blue flame sliding towards her.

  “Shit… shit… shit” she cursed, struggling to her feet while watching the long wave of flames ebbing towards her. With a defiant grunt she stumbled back. This fire was no longer an illusion. She knew the way it worked. Now, it would sear her skin and char her fingers. The first time she had felt that pain she was barely 7 years old. The first year… her inaugural year. Then helped by a Conduit many years her senior. One who had long since been lost to them.

  Beyond the flame that swept towards her was something else. It was here. It was tall and thickset, It’s head peculiarly small for it’s overly large shoulders, with sickly moist black hair parted neatly to the side White eyes were surrounded by what, at first glance, should have been black rim glasses. She knew they weren’t. She had seen them up close. The black metal frames were ghoulishly embedded into its mottled, gangrenous skin. From within them shone the luminous white eyes above a weird, almost mocking smile: long, thin, and vicious. It stared straight at her. She took a step back preparing to run. In front of it was held a rusted medical instrument she had seen used on many of its patients. It carefully turned it over, gently caressing it. As its head rolled around, the white eyes scanned the sky when it froze, motionless. An unusual sculpture within the heavy rain. It was listening to the air, feeling the vibrations rising to a crescendo, all racing toward that moment. That’s what it was waiting for. The moment when it could take her.

  “You fucker… you miserable fucker” she spat, stumbling backwards. “Why?! WHY?!”

  The reverbing voices started. Echoes that wafted through the sound of the rain. Its hands became animated as it began striding confidently towards her.

  We are going to have to run some tests.

  I am going to keep you overnight.

  The ground on which she stood burst into the most startling blue. Flames rolled around her. It was hot and it was real. The barriers were down, and she was wide open. It was the beginning. She screamed, turning to run. Her scorched legs stung. A thought, her one single hopeless thought: Where am I going?

  “Kaylee!” a voice screamed through the dark “KAYLEE HELP ME!” She instantly skidded to a stop and spun about. Once again still, the Doctor stood next to a rusted medical stretcher. Upon it was a man. It was her husband, taken not even an hour before. The Doctor looked down at its bloodied, restrained captive and gave a small, calm nod.

  “Michael!” she called tearfully, her hands reaching out to him. “Michael I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” She instantly recognised the look on the creature's twisted face. She had seen this sadistic delight before.

  It’s over now. You cannot help. You cannot help.

  This hopeless mantra had worked and had been cruelly accepted in the past. But not this time, not with her husband. Calmly and methodically, the Doctor looked down at its victim. He screamed and bucked as the Doctor twisted a rusted implement into his writhing body.

  Ah yes!... I think we have a diagnosis.

  “Leave him alone! Get off him you son-of-a-bitch! Get off him” she screamed enraged. There was no use in holding in the anger anymore. She knew the way this worked: on this night, from the time that the winter sun dipped below the horizon, she was its target. The onslaught would be relentless. It was not a fight. It would be a cruel and vicious assault. She was doomed. She knew she was doomed but she would resist. There was nothing to lose. It had already taken everything from her. She wasn’t going to make it easy.

  “Hey! Hey!... freak I’m over here!” she screamed defiantly. “Here! You’ve waited years for this so come on!”

  With a quick turn of the head, its dead white eyes met hers as its hands remained buried within its gurgling, powerless victim.

  “That’s right,” she panted. “Here I am, come on you miserable piece of shit… come on”

  It stayed motionless beside David. Its pale white eyes mere slits staring at her from the dark road. A stand-off the woman knew she couldn’t win. She couldn’t fight it. She couldn’t escape. The moment seemed like forever. She had no plan and somewhere in the back of her mind she realised that all those years had all been leading to this. Soon it wou
ld have them both. There was nothing she could do. To hell with the consequences… The outcome was already written.

  Her breathing began to calm. Her eyes glanced first to one side of the road and then the other. Then back to the Doctor before her who slowly, expectantly stood upright and waited.

  Explosively she dashed forward, screaming in rage. The stretcher, the rain, the beast wearing white, they all raced towards her in the sprint that she was powerless to stop. With hateful rage she threw herself upon the creature, grabbing its head, screaming into its face. She saw it up close, its rotten flesh, its yellowed jagged teeth, its abnormally wide mouth. She stared at its eyes, inches from her own. White, dead marbles. Empty. She pounded its head with everything she had, with every fibre of her strength but it felt nothing. She knew it felt nothing, but the gratification was instantly euphoric. Hit it, tear it. As impotent as it was, the feeling was sublime.

  With one smooth sweep of its arm, Kaylee was thrown to the wet road. Numb, and shaking with adrenaline, she lifted her bleeding face as blue fire wafted about her. She could see them now, shapes, humanoid forms staggering towards her from the darkness behind the flames. A brilliant flash of lightning exposed them, confirming her fears. The twisted and gnarled victims from her past were staggering towards her. Some shuffled, some crawled. Various implements of torture were embedded in them, contorting their naked bodies, their faces, and limbs, into unnatural and absurd positions. Demented screams of suffering left their torn and tortured faces. It was too late.

  There was no Circle around her. There was nowhere to hide. The sun had now gone, and her fate awaited. Years of fighting and resisting. Years of planning every day, planning every interaction, every life choice whilst this evil, unnatural curse got every consideration with each damned step of her life. Now the man that warmed her heart and made her dare to dream of a different way was condemned to suffer a fate worse than death. It was her fault. Her life, her heart, her love had sent him to something worse than hell. She straightened up. Water ran freely from her bleeding and battered body. This was of no concern. She had bled many times before… but now, where was it?

  Only for a second, Kaylee saw the headlights of the car barrelling towards her. The decision was instantaneous. In the darkness of the night, in the cover of the rain that car might not see her. She could step out in front of it. Maybe, God willing, maybe, it would not predict her move.

  The harsh beam of the headlights stung her eyes. She glanced at the monster. This would take her away from it. This could save her. It was the only chance she had, no matter how remote. There was nothing to lose. She stepped into the path of the oncoming vehicle.

  The collision forced air from her body as she slammed into the front of the car. There was the sound of screeching tyres as she became aware of something wrapped about her. There was no pain. There was no sensation of the impact, even as she heard the windscreen smash behind her. The creature held her tightly, wrapping its strong deformed body in a mesh of protection. All hope was lost.

  The Doctor removed its grip as the woman hit the ground hard. It let her feel this. Why wouldn’t it? Death could be painless, injury was painful. She lay gasping on the wet ground. The evening was now turning to black as she stared up at the sky. She wanted to look at it just a little longer. She knew she would not see it again. Not this sky. It was over. It was time. It had been a long battle and now she was defeated.

  Lying on the road she was aware that people were approaching her. She could see their blurred silhouettes and hear their excited scared shouting. Even at this time, she was acutely aware of the danger they were in. They couldn’t be here. They had to go and, as a young man leant down to her, she felt a rush of panic.

  What have I done?

  “Go… leave me… go,” she gasped through the rain that covered her face, filling her nose and blurring her eyes. “Don’t touch me, go, just go, don’t touch me.”

  The man said something nice to her, something reassuring. He knelt beside her and held her head gently in his hands. He was in such danger. He didn’t understand.

  Oh Christ, please understand.

  “Go… Go away! Go! Get away! Don’t touch me! No! Don’t touch me!”

  He was joined by another as he carefully placed her head on his knee. Another young man leant over her and grasped her hands, comforting and gentle. Horrified, she tried to push them away. They had seconds, mere seconds to let go… she could feel it building in the air about her. If they were touching her during this moment, when the sky flashed and the ground rumbled, they would join her in the never-ending nightmare of its world.

  What have I done?

  “You can't touch me!!” she screamed furiously into the air, startling the two men and, for a moment, for a split second, she hoped they would listen and back away.

  With a brilliant flash of lightning, the landscape was once again illuminated. The lightning paused, engulfing all of them in a brilliant other-worldly beam as a deep, rumbling THUD rippled through the ground. Exhausted and defeated, she turned her cradled head to the side to see the blue flames rushing to meet them. She could see the Doctor standing behind them watching with subtle conceit. It had won. Yes, a sick bonus.

  The strangers began to make confused sounds, watching with confusion as the streets folded, fading gracefully away into the darkness. The screams of the hundreds taken before becoming louder, drowning out all else. They were all being taken to the Doctor’s world, and there they would remain.

  Marco was screaming for Mika’s mercy as Chelamah walked past him and proceeded down the corridor. The others remained tight-lipped and masked. She ensured that no-one who walked with her, not Jason, Miya, or the other devotees, got the slightest hint of how horrified she was at what was occurring in the room they just left. As the elevator opened to allow them in, Chelamah noticed Crystal would not be joining them. She was going to wait, leaning against the wall, and watching the door they had just left. Marco’s screaming suddenly stopped. They all knew what was happening at that very moment.

  The elevator was an awful place to play this kind of game with these sorts of people. Not a word was spoken in what felt like the longest descent in history, but the communication was loud and clear. Jason smiled and Lucas, his devotee, smiled back. Miya picked up her phone and began typing. Was she faking this? Was Miya at all concerned? Chelamah stared straight ahead at the silver metal wall between Jason and Miya; expressionless, no emotion. She needed one of the others to speak, to say it.

  “Mika just took one of us out, are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Holy fuck, what just happened?”

  or

  “I can’t believe what he just did.”

  But no-one did. A testament to the level the “Pantheon” had eventually reached. It’s what Mika called them. There were dangerous complexities involved in playing this type of game. Whether they owned it or not, there was no trust anymore. Their small group had just become smaller. The cliques in the group made it even smaller still. It was more like a cold war than an alliance. No allegiance, no comradery, just a cold stalemate held in place by the guaranteed understanding of mutual destruction.

  Jason, the Conduit, and Luka, his conceited devotee, made an awesome psychopathic duo. Standing together they exchanged mocking glances and knowing smiles. Miya stood alone, no devotee, and Chelamah suspected that she preferred it that way. There were many reasons for Miya to feel this way, but Chelamah chose not to speculate. Crystal was not with them. She had chosen to wait and enjoy Mika’s display. God how she hated that woman. But in this army of monsters, Marco and herself were mere pawns. Handy yet eminently disposable and, when it came down to it, completely defenceless. The Ascendant conduits were more than comfortable that Mika had just taken a Devotee. She wondered how their attitude would change if they knew what she knew. If they knew that Will, a Conduit just like them, had been the first one targeted.

  Noah, the Underling Conduit stood beside her. She felt him move closer as their arms touched ever so slightly. It scared her. Her craving for his closeness became fear, mistrusting and guarded. Now was not the time. Noah and Chelamah were complicated, dangerously entangled. She couldn’t relax. But, as she felt Noah ever so subtly caress her hand with one finger she knew that he was vulnerable. He risked exposing them. Calmly she pulled her arm away and feigned rummaging in her bag.