The Children of Zion

Chapter Fourteen

D.R. Hurley

Fourteen

Several days had passed since the public execution of the Trian monks. Inspector Baxi spent the bulk of that time hiding from the world, amidst the shadowy confines of his district office.

The man lost countless hours brooding over recent events, particularly of those fleeting moments after the monk's death, although memories of that day were surprisingly sketchy. However, the little he did retain was solely dominated by one thing alone. The phantom creature.

Baxi re-lived the moment he'd first seen the mysterious being, over and over. The recurring scene played constantly throughout his mind in an endless spiral of uncertainty.

He remembered standing before the roaring crowd on unsteady legs, his vision blurred. A line of crimson marked his face from his bleeding nose and beads of cold sweat trickled slowly down his bald head as his mind reconnected with his body.

The surge of energy generated as the crowd erupted into a bout of raucous cheers, severed the delicate link Baxi had maintained with his floating conscious. He screamed in pain as the resulting force mercilessly wrenched his mind back into his body, leaving him a collapsed mass on the ground.

This went unnoticed to those around him, and many painful moments passed before he stirred. He had to finish the entire bottle of Fogberry juice just to dull the searing pain in his head, caused by the public's heightened emotions.

After which, Baxi turned his throbbing head and saw the Trian prisoners dangle motionless in the air. Their ribbed tails hung limply between clawed feet, several inches from the ground. A clear picture indeed, forever burned into Baxi's retinas. Justice had been served.

The next flash of memory showed him staggering amongst the crowd, fighting desperately to get through the mass of pressing bodies, before climbing a statue in the centre of town square. Height was all that mattered at that moment. He had to get above the people so he could see it again before it left. He was still desperately weak from the last ordeal, so could not use his powers. Instead, Baxi was forced to rely on his natural vision.

And then he came to it. The last piece of his disturbing memory. Whilst clinging to the smooth surface of the polished stone, he saw the beast. The Inspector stared disbelieving at the lone creature, lurking in the darkened recesses of a distant balcony. He remembered how the thing looked back at him with its black, soulless eyes, connecting to his presence. His heart froze as their eyes met.

Little else remained of that day, nor of those that followed. He knew the citywide search for the traitor Leos continued, despite his supervision, and was becoming a serious drain on enforcer resources. But realistically speaking, the search was all in vain, save for appeasing the people's thirst for action.

Baxi suspected by now the rogue would be on the outer fringes of the Empire, if not into neighbouring territory. It was a slim chance indeed if he had chosen to hide amongst the city's slums, but it was feasible. He could be holed up with his old gang, The Black Hand, if his memories returned at least, but then again, that seemed all too dangerous for a man wanted for treason.

No, the most logical chance for survival would be to flee the Empire with all haste. That's what Baxi would do if he was in that situation. And precisely the reason why he'd taken the precautionary measure of dispatching ravens to every corner of Cowldonia, bearing word of the traitor's escape, which should have been received by now. It wouldn't be long before they had him, he was confident about that. To him, Leos was nothing but a loose end, and such things often have a habit of being righted. One way or another.