Episode 14 – Peter

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You should show a little respect to the man who had your parents killed. The words rang in his head, growing louder and louder, mixing with the buzzing. For years he had imagined meeting the person who had started the fire. He’d imagined pounding him, lighting him on fire, strangling him, giving him over to the cops to be executed, but as he stared at the man in front of him holding a gun to Emma’s head, all of those images flew away, replaced by pure hate.

As for who I am, I’m not surprised Fredrick, or Thomas as he calls himself, didn’t tell you. You see, I’m his father.

His hands clenched so tightly he was sure his palms were bleeding, but he didn’t care. Yet something held him back from launching at the man, Thomas’ father. A shred of sanity that said that Emma needed him. That and the huge shoulders and body that made him look like a football player.

“You killed my parents,” he growled instead, his insides clenched. “You’re a monster!”

For a moment, the man looked stricken, his large forehead creasing. “It was necessary. I don’t expect you to understand, but I’m not a monster…”

Peter didn’t hear the rest of what Thomas’ father said over the buzzing in his head. The man who had killed his parents was standing right in front of him and he wasn’t doing anything, he couldn’t do anything. He needed a plan, some way to get them all out without anyone dying, but his mind wouldn’t let him make one. It stayed stuck, filled only with the intense buzzing that was screaming one command, “kill him.”

“Come along, now Fredrick,” the man said, with an air of superiority. “Why don’t you show our guests what happens when you defy the Rose.”

Wordlessly, as if coming out of a trance, Thomas walked over to Peter. In a flash, he had Peter’s hands behind his back. Peter grimaced with pain, his head buzzing more than ever as Thomas slipped something hard and metallic around his wrists, binding them together. In a matter of seconds, he had all of them bound with handcuffs he had apparently gotten from Peter’s vest.

“Now, if you’ll all come along, I have something I think you’d like to see.”

Peter gritted his teeth, glancing at Emma who was staring at Thomas, eyes wide. The pieces suddenly clicked together, and Peter turned to Thomas too. Thomas, with his uncaring blank face, Thomas the one who had led him into this trap, Thomas, the one who had lied about everything. He hadn’t been sneaking off at night to be alone. He’d been planning this. But why? You should show a little respect to the man who had your parents killed. The answer hit him in the gut. He had supposed to be at home the night his parents died. He’d supposed to have died with them. Emma obviously had something to do with this man, and Nico probably had just gotten caught along with them as a casualty. Unless he has his own secret involvement. All he knew for certain was that Thomas—no, Fredrick’s—father was going to finish the job.

Thomas’ father grabbed Emma out of the chair, pulling her along as he headed out into the hallway, and Thomas shoved Peter forward, forcing him to follow his evil father down the hall.

“I believe you may know something of the Children of Light. They were quite a hindrance to us five years ago, much like you five. As you may know, the group mysteriously went missing. I assume you’ve figured out what happened to them by now.”

Peter just glared at the man, not wanting to admit he had no idea what he was talking about.

“You killed them,” Nico’s short reply was laced with venom.

“Oh, no, you’ve got it all wrong. You see, they didn’t like the way we were trying to save the city. They wanted to try and convince the people to change, and people just don’t change on their own. They need someone to follow—that’s how human nature works—so they broke into our base to try and sabotage our efforts.”

As he was talking, he led them further down the hallway, which was growing darker and even more decrepit the further they went. “They came in armed and attempted to steal documents they thought would put us all in jail.” He shook his head, as if regretting what happened next.

As if.

“They ran into a group of our agents. There was a fight, and they all died.” He said this like someone commenting on a movie, as if killing people was just part of the show.

“So you did kill them,” Nico blurted out, shock plain in his voice.

Thomas’ father turned so abruptly that Peter walked right into him. He quickly backed up to see the man’s face turn a nasty shade of red.

“They did it to themselves! You don’t understand. There was no helping it.”

“As if,” Nico muttered, voicing Peter’s thoughts. Still, angering this guy wasn’t going to get them anywhere except the same place the “Children of Light” were—in a grave.

The man clenched his jaw. “I don’t expect you to understand. Perhaps you’ll understand this, however.” He stopped at a heavy steel door and entered a long code. There was a click, and it slid inward. The sight inside made Peter want to gag. Slumped in a chair, bruised, blood caked to her lips, was a woman not much older than them.

Emma gave a strangled cry from behind her gag, Thomas actually gasped, Nico looked shell-shocked, and the White Falcon looked ready to kill Thomas’ father on the spot.

“Oh, don’t look too shocked. You only have your friend—Quin was it?—to thank.”

Peter turned to Quin, who had lost her color, guilt etched in her face.

“Perhaps now that you’ve seen what your actions have done you’ll be a bit more inclined to comply,” the man said, staring at Quin.

She didn’t reply. She seemed shocked, frozen in guilt.

“You’ll never get away with this.”

Everyone turned to the White Falcon, who had apparently finally found his voice only to shout the most cliche phrase Peter had ever heard.

“Oh?” Thomas’ father asked, raising an eyebrow. “And why is that? Do you have some backup rescue plan? Perhaps you think your gadgets will get you out?”

As if suddenly remembering they were there, the White Falcon awkwardly reached onto the back of his utility belt and clicked something. Nothing happened.

“Really? I hit you with an EMP ten minutes ago. Some hero you are.” The man closed the door, sealing the woman from view, and Emma let out a pathetic muffled sob. “Now that you have a motive, why don’t we all go see what you’ll be doing here.”

“Why are you torturing Fiona?!” Nico shouted, his voice raspy. “What are you going to do? Kill us? Turn us into assassins? Brainwash us?”

Thomas’ father opened his mouth to answer, but Nico kept going.

“Because no matter what you do, we have Jesus on our side. You can’t do anything that He doesn’t let you do. Beside Him, you’re powerless.”

Please, just stop, Peter pleaded silently, as the man’s veins bulged and his face went scarlet.

“I don’t need you to agree with me, and for the record that didn’t save the other Children of Light.”

Nico didn’t have a comeback, and Thomas’ father’s face went back to normal, a smug grin that was all too familiar replacing his sneer. “As for what I’m going to do to you, that’s up to you. The Crystal has stood in our way for too long. It would be a shame to let this opportunity slip by. The real problem is that I don’t know which one of you to get rid of. But I’m sure you three will figure that out. I just need them to see we’re not playing games. So, who will it be?” He pulled the gun back out of his pocket and pointed it at the White Falcon. “Also, I don’t need you.” He pulled the trigger.

The White Falcon jerked his arms as if to grab for the gun, but his handcuffs held his wrists together. There was a bang and his eyes widened before he dropped to the floor.

“Now, who’s next?”

Peter stared at the White Falcon, then at Thomas’ father, his insides a cold block of ice. This man had just killed the White Falcon and didn’t even bat an eye.

“You killed him!” Nico shouted, tugging at his handcuffs, hate in his eyes. “You’re a murderous psychopath!”

“Ah, so we have a volunteer, then.” The man aimed the gun at Nico.

“Take me,” Quin said, voice shaking as she stepped between Nico and the psychopath.

“Allways the hero, Quin. Very well.”

“Wait,” Thomas said, speaking up for the first time since his father had shown up. “Take me. I know you hate me. You always have. All you care about is yourself!” He balled his hand into a first, stepping closer to his father, who was still smirking.

There was a small pop from Peter’s handcuffs, and a searing hot pain in his wrist as the cuffs fell free. Thomas’ father didn’t seem to notice.

“You know you can’t hurt me, Fredrick. You’ve tried before.” There was a flicker of anger in his face, and a hint of… fear?

“Yeah, well I was twelve. Plus, back then I didn’t have friends.”

His father spun around just as Peter’s fist collided with his face. For a second, he looked dazed, then his eyes widened in fear and he aimed his gun at Peter. In a flash, Quin had disarmed him, the gun clattering to the floor as Peter threw another punch, reveling in the fear that was now showing on the syco’s face.

Up, down, block, side, up in in in, side, dodge, in in, dodge. All the anger and pain rushed out, blurring his vision as he counted out the rhythm he had practiced over and over. Only now, his punching bag was the man who had murdered his parents. He knew he shouldn’t enjoy this as much as he was. In, in, in, side, up. With every punch he saw his parents screaming in pain as fire engulfed them—as they burned to death. The rhythm was gone. He was punching blindly, throwing his anger and pain into each one.

Something grabbed at him, but he shook it off. His vision was now red, and the buzzing had returned. This man had killed his parents. He deserved to die. He grit his teeth as the man slumped to the floor, holding up his hands feebly. Yeah, that’s right. Not so powerful now, are you?

Someone was calling his name, maybe his mother? Something grabbed at him again, no, someone.

“Jack, stop! You’re going to kill him!”

“He killed my parents!” He shouted, noticing that he was shaking, shaking with rage. This would set it right. This was justice.

The person, Quin, tried to pull him away. No, it wasn’t just Quin. Nico was on his other side, and Thomas was standing to the side, staring at his father.

“He killed them! He deserves to die!” Rage still shook his body, and he fought the arms holding him back. He had to finish the psychopath—had to kill him. He couldn’t let the man who killed his parents walk away.

“Killing him isn’t going to bring them back,” Nico said firmly. “It’ll just make you into the same monster you’re trying to kill. Violence is never the answer.”

“So what, you’re just going to let him go?”

“You have to trust God to bring justice.” This time it was Quin.”

“Yeah? Well if God is so just, why did He let my parents be killed?! If He can do anything, then why didn’t he.” His knees were shaking now, threatening to give out as the anger started to melt away. He fought to keep the tears inside. He couldn’t let the others see how broken he was inside. He couldn’t let the pain win.

“I don’t know, but I do know you don’t have to let that consume you and make you just like him.” She gestured to the unconscious man by Peter’s feet.

“Uh, guys. We have incoming,” a squeaky voice screeched.

Peter spun on his heel, looking at the White Falcon, who had gotten to his feet, apparently not dead. “Wait, you were—you were dead.”

“Kevlar chestplate.” He thumped his chest, giving a painful grin.

“Incoming?” Nico asked, eyes wide. “More agents?”

“Come on. We have to get Fiona,” Emma said, apparently having removed her gag and handcuffs.

“I’ll distract them. You grab her and get out of here,” the White Falcon said. “There’s an exit in the room across from hers that leads to an underground tunnel.”

“What about you?” Nico asked as footsteps sounded from down the hall behind them.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve survived worse. I don’t need you five coming back for me and getting us all killed.”

“But your gadgets—”

The White Falcon smirked. “I didn’t need gadgets when I was in the Air Force. I’ll be fine.”

Nico opened his mouth to reply, and Peter grabbed him. “You want to live or not?”

Reluctantly, Nico followed as Peter led the group back the way they had come. More footsteps sounded ahead of them. Great. We’re cornered. Fantically, he scanned the hallway, his eyes falling on a small door without a lock set into the wall. Quickly, he yanked it open to reveal… a broom closet.

Hesitating, he turned around to face Thomas. This was all his fault. He was probably the one who had tipped his father off about Emma and Quin, and had led them all into a trap. And now he was still here, just waiting to stab them in the back. Thomas stared back, his face a blank mask. “Go find your own broom closet,” he snapped, heat rising in his face as his parents’ faces floated into his mind.

“Jack,” Quin whispered fiercely. “Come on. We need to hide. This isn’t the time for grudges.”

“Grudges? How do we know we can trust him not to gas us when we’re in there? Come on,” he looked to Emma and Nico for support, and Emma looked down.

“Come on. He led us here. His father is the head of this organization. The agents aren’t going to touch him,” Peter said as the footsteps grew louder. They were out of time.

Quin clenched her jaw. “And how do you know he won’t betray our location if we don’t bring him with us?”

Peter took a deep breath. “Fine. Come on.” The five of them squeezed inside, and Peter was all too aware of Thomas breathing down his neck. He shut the door, and everything went quiet as everyone seemed to hold their breath. Please don’t look here. His heart pounded, seeming to fill the silence. The footsteps grew louder, and he closed his eyes, fingering the knife in his pocket. Then the footsteps were fading away. There was a collective sigh as everyone let out their breath. Waiting until the last of the footsteps died away and the distant sound of a fight came through the door, he slowly opened it, checking both ways before sliding out into the hallway.

Silently, he led the group back to the grimy door where this “Fiona” had been tied up. The keypad sat next to the knob, and Peter inwardly kicked himself for forgetting about it.

“Emma, can you hack into it?” Quin asked for behind him. He turned to see Nico, Emma, and Quin circled up and Thomas hanging behind, staring the other way.

“Maybe, if I had something to hack it with.”

“Applesauce1965.” Nico piped up, and everyone looked at him. He shrugged. “I saw him type it in.”

Quin quickly entered it, and the lock clicked green. She hesitated a second, then pulled the door open. The woman was still inside, blood caked to her face, her head drooping. She raised her head, eyes full of fear as they stepped inside.

“Fiona,” Emma whispered, rushing to the woman.

“Go,” Fiona whispered back in a dry raspy voice. “They’ll be here any second. Get out of here.” She looked up at the others blearily through her matted hair.

Emma picked up a knife from the table and started sawing at the ropes, though the knife seemed dull and only seemed to fray it a little.

Gritting his teeth, Peter walked over and pulled out his own knife, easily sawing through the rope. As the loose rope fell off, Fiona pitched, and Peter caught her, letting his knife fall to the floor. “A little help,” he grunted, and Quin rushed to his side. Together, they lifted her up and started for the room across the hall. Before they reached it, Peter could tell someone had just broken into it. The lock was in pieces on the floor, and the door hung ajar. Stupid! He looked around for Thomas, but of course he was gone. Probably set a trap.

Carefully, he pushed the door open, still supporting Fiona. The room inside was dirty and looked like some sort of storage room, with rows of shelves and cases. Once he was sure nothing would explode, he walked across the room to a shelf that had recently been moved to reveal a trap door. Before he could stop her, Emma hurried ahead and opened it, and Peter winced, though nothing happened. Maybe Thomas just wanted to escape.

Slowly, he lowered himself down through the hole and into the damp darkness below. After helping to lower Fiona down, he took out his flashlight and they made their way through the tunnel. Just when he began to wonder if the tunnel would ever end, the beam bounced off something shiny, and reaching for it, he found a knob. Bracing himself for an attack, he turned it and pushed. The door opened into the forest where he and Thomas had been only a few hours ago, and a dozen or so lights met his eyes, blinding him.

“Quin!” a familiar woman exclaimed, rushing forward. Peter collapsed, the weight of Fiona and everything that had happened finally winning. He didn’t need to fight anymore. It was over.