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The Fifth Elemental

  Season 1

  Shepisode 2

  Breakout

  A. I. Nasser

  Copyright 2015 A. I. Nasser

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  “I hope you like the tea.”

  Lucius put the small cup down on the coffee table in front of him, smiling at his host as he tried to find a more comfortable sitting position on the couch. William Fern smiled at Lucius’s obvious discomfort, taking a sip from his own cup before putting it down himself.

  The two sat alone in the older man’s library, surrounded by shelves of texts, covers worn with age. Lucius was reminded of the time when William’s grandfather had been The Order’s librarian. He had kept the massive hall lined with rows of books, manuscripts, scrolls and maps dating back centuries. They had often joked about it being the modern day Library of Alexandria, the treasures within beyond compare.

  But that was a different time.

  “You outdid yourself, William,” Lucius said.

  “It’s garbage,” William laughed. “Still, it’s better than what my wife makes. Believe me when I tell you that I’m sparing you a lot of misery.”

  Lucius smiled at that. If there was one thing the Fern family never lacked, it was a sense of humour. Lucius had been close to William’s grandfather. The older Fern had been the best man at his wedding, making sure Lucius wouldn’t bale in the last second. Even during the first war, the man had never been short of jokes and sarcasm, something that had added a little light to the chaos.

  “How is your wife?” Lucius asked.

  “Oh, you know, gardens and cooking mostly,” William sighed. “We try to keep things as mellow as possible.”

  Lucius had driven into town earlier that morning, hoping to avoid as many familiar faces as possible. He knew he was unwelcome here, as was anyone from the Order. Memories lingered in Sommerst, passed down from generation to generation. The past never died here. Nothing was ever forgotten, or forgiven for that matter.

  He had helped erect the first houses in the area, a loyal soldier in the resistance that had fought against the Ancients and the Order for twenty years. Sommerst had been their base, a well-hidden community that had offered a home and family for years. After the Order had fallen, his return and efforts to rebuild it were viewed as a betrayal by many, despite his intentions. The only support he and his Quartet had received came from the Ferns. Luckily for him, a Fern had always been elected as mayor, making sure he wouldn’t be killed in the streets the minute he came in.

  “Have you passed by Lara yet?”

  Lucius shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever be welcome there.”

  “She’s family, Lucius,” William smiled.

  “She was family,” Lucius answered. “That died with her sister.”

  “If I remember the stories correctly, I’d say that isn’t quite correct.”

  Lucius eyed the man with a smile, finally standing up, unable to bear his seat anymore. He paced to one end of the study, looking at the books lined along one shelf, running his fingers across the rough surfaces of their spines. He felt comfortable in Sommerst. Sometimes he wished he could come back and finally settle down.

  “I came to ask you for something, William,” Lucius finally said.

  “I had a feeling there was more to this visit than just my tea.”

  Lucius chuckled. “I need help,” he said.

  “You need help?” William asked. “Or does the Order need help?”

  Lucius ran a hand through his hair and poured himself some water from a pitcher near the bookcase. “It’s not the same Order.”

  “Do you still take orders from Herneith?” William asked. When Lucius didn’t answer, he nodded. “It’s the same Order, Lucius.”

  “Herneith is not Sabaf,” Lucius countered. “Things are different now.”

  William chuckled and stood up, taking his cup and placing it on the tray next to his guest’s. “The only reason there aren’t two teams resisting the Order, Lucius, is because of your Quartet. We’ve all lost respect for the Ancients. We don’t trust them, and we have every right not to. You yourself didn’t at one point, not too long ago.”

  Lucius said nothing. He remembered the first war vividly, the war that had taken away his wife, friends and family. He had hated the Order then, and everyone that had been a part of it. He had taken them on with a vengeance, without remorse, a soldier many feared more than respected. Now, standing on the opposite side, he wasn’t surprised at the Renegades’ aggressiveness. There was a time he had done worse.

  “Have you ever asked yourself if this war is any different than the last one?” William brought him back from his thoughts.

  “No one’s being exiled this time,” Lucius said.

  “Yet,” William countered. “What’s going to happen if Rakel gets what he wants, Lucius? How long do you think you can stop him from following in the footsteps of Lam?”

  “He’d have to take the Keep,” Lucius argued. “That won’t happen.”

  “You have a lot of faith, especially when you’re here asking for my help.”

  “The Renegades aren’t strong enough to take down the Keep.”

  “Neither were you when you stormed through its doors.”

  Lucius sighed. He wasn’t getting anywhere. William could see his frustration, and put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder.

  “There is no army for you here, Lucius,” William whispered. “Nor will there ever be. Our war is over. All we can do is pray for you, and hope you can hold what’s left of our kind together.”

  “Hope doesn’t win wars,” Lucius said.

  William smiled and squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “You’ve surprised everyone before.” He walked back to his desk and sat down with a sigh. “Spend the night, and in the morning pass by Lara. Closure is important.”

  Ethan woke up to the sound of rain.

  He had been dreaming again. The same village as before. The same screaming. The strange language had been clearer this time, but not enough for him to understand it. He had felt like one or two of the words were familiar, but he had lost their meaning almost immediately. The surf had still been behind him, sea water splashing in droplets at the back of his head and nape, a strong contrast to the heat from the fires in front of him. He had felt like he should know the place, as if the dream were a memory rather than inexplicable pictures in front of his eyes.

  Ethan sat up in the back seat just as Patricia pulled into a motel, the green fluorescent sign welcoming him to where ‘all heads rested safely’. After the night before, he was starting to have a hard time imagining that that were even possible anymore.

  They had left at dawn, packing what little possessions they had into two cars and moving out before anyone had woken up. He had been introduced to Eric and Nadia quickly, each stranger than the other, before being ushered into the back seat of Patricia’s car. The sight of the broken window was a strong reminder of the fire that had thrown his life off course, and he had felt his eyes water as he remembered Alicia.

  “Try not to call anyone until we’re well out of here,” Rick had told him.

  He had had no intention of complying, especially since he knew his mother would be worried. He had tried to call her when they had stopped for gas, but had only gotten the answering machine, quickly leaving a message telling his parents that he was
ok and would be going out of town for a while. He had bumped into Leah after hanging up, and the look in her eyes had been enough to send chills down his spine. If she had known about the call, she hadn’t shown it, and he hadn’t tried calling again.

  He waited for his eyes to adjust before scanning the run-down motel. Patricia parked near the front desk and disappeared, leaving him alone with Rick. If the motel had ever seen better days, Ethan doubted it was recent. A lot of the rooms’ windows were shattered, and a few doors hung loose on their hinges. There was only one other car parked at the far end of the motel space, tires flat and rust screaming out like a bad joke.

  “I don’t think our heads are going to rest safely here,” Ethan said.

  “It will do,” Rick answered, looking out at Patricia as she booked rooms for them. “Besides, you’ll learn to sleep with one eye open no matter where we stay.”

  “How long are you keeping me with you?”

  “You’re not a prisoner.”

  “Right, but without you I’m a dead man?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Ethan sighed. “Then what choice do I have.”

  Rick didn’t answer. They watched Patricia exit the front desk, keys in her hand and hood over her head against the falling rain. She got into the car without a word and cruised to their rooms. Ethan looked at the closed doors from the shelter of the car, half expecting corpses to storm out with machetes, rotten skin hanging from their bones. He thought about sleeping in the car.

  The door beside him opened and Eric looked at him as he grabbed a bag off the back seat. The blonde smiled as he saw the look on Ethan’s face. “I don’t like it either,” he said, “but it’s Trish’s call. Where I lay my head is home, right?”

  “Right,” Ethan said half-heartedly.

  He stepped out of the car, pulling his bag out with him. He had been able to buy a few things on their way, not too much to worry about, always paying in cash. Leah had been with him the whole time, and he started to wonder if she were babysitting him. The redhead made him uncomfortable, staring the way she did, lighter flipping across her fingers. He watched her park her bike between the two cars, and even with her helmet on, he could swear she was watching him.

  He felt a hand around his shoulders pulling him towards a room.

  “You’re bunking with me,” Eric said cheerfully. “I’ve never had a roommate, so you better not be a snorer.”

  Ethan let himself be led to their room, Eric quickly unlocking the door and trying the lights. One bulb hung lazily from the centre of the ceiling, barely illuminating the room. Ethan felt like he had just walked into the twilight zone, a stark reminder of how well he had it before hell had broken loose. Eric, though, didn’t seem to mind at all. He threw his bag on a bed, officially claiming it as his own, and walked straight into the bathroom. Ethan could see him wrestle with the lights, and when it was apparent that there was no hope, the blonde just shrugged and closed the door.

  Ethan set his bag down, taking in his cheap surroundings as he inspected the bed for anything that might crawl across his legs at night. When he was satisfied that nothing would bite, he lied down, crossed an arm over his eyes, and tried to sleep. His mind was racing with questions, but he knew that he wouldn’t get any satisfaction tonight. His four new acquaintances were very vague about anything he wanted to know, Rick constantly assuring him that he would get answers as soon as they were safe.

  After ten hours on the road and their new lodgings, Ethan began to wonder where safe was.

  “How’s the mattress?” Eric asked as he stepped out of the bathroom, jumping on his own bed without waiting for an answer. “Wow, now this is hell. Trish really outdid herself with this one.”

  Ethan looked at his roommate as the he tried to settle into the pillow, still fully dressed. Eric seemed a lot more laid back than the others. Where everyone was on edge, he seemed to be having the time of his life. Even here, in a motel that screamed ‘condemned’ and a room fit for Auschwitz, the blonde was smiling.

  “You don’t seem all too unhappy,” Ethan said.

  Eric opened his eyes and turned to him, smiles and all. “It’s better than the car,” he said.

  “Is it?”

  Eric laughed. “Man, there were times we couldn’t even stop to take a leak. You try sleeping in a car for four days and then tell me how bad this is.”

  “Am I going to learn what sleeping in a car for four days is going to be like?”

  Eric’s smiled faded for an instant, then came back as he wheeled his legs over the edge of the bed and looked straight at him. “Listen, I know this is hard,” he said, keeping his voice down. “I know you have questions and no one’s giving you the time of day to even tell you where we’re going. We’re asking you to put a lot of trust in us, and you don’t even know us.”

  “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

  “The truth is, those people who burned down your home? They’re probably already following us, and they’re not very nice people.”

  “I bet they’d say the same thing if I were riding with them instead.”

  “I bet you they’d kill you just the way they killed your girl.”

  Ethan frowned and sat, staring straight at Eric. “Talk about Alicia again, and you won’t have to worry about the people following us.”

  Eric smiled and held his hands up in a sign of defeat. “Hey, don’t take your anger out on me, ok?” he said, almost chuckling. “You want me on your side if things get rough.”

  “I don’t want anyone on my side,” Ethan hissed. “I want answers, and if you’re not going to give me any, then I want to be left alone.”

  Eric looked at Ethan a bit longer before he shrugged and lay back down. “I get it,” he said, eyes closed, smile gone. “But you’re not the first to go through all this, and you won’t be the last, so get over yourself and stop acting like a sad puppy.”

  Ethan said nothing, furious and half wanting to punch the man in his face. He stared at Eric a moment longer, then decided to let it go, falling back onto his own bed and trying to sleep.

  Rick loved the rain. He sat on the hood of Patricia’s car and let the water soak through him. He remembered a time when just hearing the rain tapping at his window would wake him up with a smile. It soothed him, and no matter how tired he was, he never missed a moment to sit in the midst of the falling water with his eyes closed and his mind clear.

  Ever since he and Patricia had left home, Rick couldn’t remember a time they had stayed in one place for more than a few days. It was starting to get to him, and even now, with the rain washing over him, he could feel the stress eating away at him. His Quartet looked to him for guidance and support, and the extra weight of the responsibility wasn’t helping.

  Calliope had told him that he had to give up all ties with home. It was safer that way, she had said. He remembered the day they had met, walking up to him and Patricia while they were leaving the cinema complex. She had invited them to coffee, explaining everything in less than an hour and expecting him to leave with her immediately.

  He had made her wait for a week.

  “What are you doing out here, wet boy?”

  Rick turned and smiled at Patricia as she walked out into the rain towards him. She pulled herself up next to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “Well, it’s raining,” Rick whispered, almost to himself. She squeezed him tighter.

  Rick wrapped his arm around her shoulder and held her closer. Her strength never failed to impress him. She had gotten used to their new routine a lot faster than he had, although her eyes betrayed her need for some stability. She hadn’t thought twice when he had asked her to come with him, and he thanked the stars every night for her. Without her, he knew his new life would have been impossible.

  “Did you check in on the kids?” he asked.

  Patricia laughed. It had become a running joke between them, both feeling like they were the Quartet’s parents. “Our new foster child
is going to be a problem,” she joked.

  “We can handle it,” Rick smiled. “Besides, Leah seems to have already taken him under her wing.”

  “You mean she’s scaring him to death.”

  “Same thing, really. Leah scares everyone.”

  Patricia nodded. “She gets that from Calliope,” she said quietly.

  They sat silently, listening to the rain as it fell on the cars around them, a soft breeze picking up and falling again. It was serene, almost like it was washing away their problems.

  “You know, we can just take the car and leave,” Rick said. “They’ll be fine without us.”

  “It’s not a choice, Rick,” Patricia whispered. “Not anymore. You know that.”

  “Should I have had said no?”

  Patricia looked up at him, frowning. “You’re not getting soft, are you?”

  Rick laughed. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Right,” Patricia mocked. “Find a cabin out in the woods somewhere, raise a family, get old and fart through the night.”

  “You want a family?”

  Patricia stared at him a bit longer, and then leaned her head on his shoulder again. “How about we get through this whole war-of-the-worlds thing first?”

  Rick sighed. “Sometimes I get the feeling that we’re never going to stop fighting.”

  Patricia squeezed him again and said nothing.

  When Lara opened her front door, she would have slapped the man standing outside if she could have reached him.

  “What are you doing here, Lucius?”

  Lucius stood a few feet away from, trying to smile, and the only thing that came to her mind was how ridiculous he looked in jeans and a T-shirt. He was obviously uncomfortable, and she had no intention of making him feel any better.

  “I was in the neighbourhood,” he started, then stopped when she held up a hand to silence him. He had always felt like a school boy when confronting Lara.

  “Unless you’re lost,” Lara said, “I suggest you leave before I rip your throat out.”

  “Lara, I – ”

  “Lucius, please.”

  Lucius gazed at his wife’s sister, the very sight of her bringing up painful memories of their past. She had been by his side through everything; from the moment he had lost Samantha to the day they had stormed the Keep together. She was a force to be reckoned with, and she had trusted him fully, a trust he had betrayed when he had decided to stay and rebuild the Order. He had never seen so much pain and hate in a person’s eyes before, and even now, after almost a century of having avoided each other, that same look sent chills down his spine.