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“What the hell!” Donja screamed as she gassed the car increasing speed to ninety and climbing, driving straight toward him. She swerved to miss an oncoming vehicle, horns blasting, then cut sharp to the right, a semi approaching.
“You’re going to hit him!” Makayla screamed.
Suddenly from nowhere, they saw Torin drop from the cables, like a lead balloon right on top of the scar-faced man. Donja hit the brakes, tires squealing and in the chaos that followed, they slid with the smell of burning rubber, past a pickup truck, so close Donja could have reached out and touched his fender. Torin and the scar-faced man, who were engaged in heavy battle, went rolling as cars swerved, blaring horns shattering the night. With their images a blur, they landed atop the hood of a car which ricocheted off a truck then slammed into the cabled edge of the bridge, ejecting Torin and the scar-faced man over the guard rail.
“Holy shit!” Donja screeched swerving among cars and people who were exiting their vehicles to gaze over the bridge to the river below. Finally, free of the mayhem she pressed the gas pedal, building speed with the lights of the Michigan Soo, luring her home. She hit the brakes, tires squealing again as they exited the bridge, then took a sharp right off the ramp onto Highway 75, once more picking up speed. She flashed her dilated eyes to Makayla. “How the hell did he get past us without a car?”
“I’ll explain it all once we get home, just concentrate on the road,” Makayla whispered as if in a daze.
“Fine,” she smirked, “whatever, but tell me one thing? Why did he do that? Did he want me to run him down?”
“No,” she answered with a hushed whisper, “it was just a warning that he has his eyes on you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“A sign, and not a good one I’m afraid.”
“Sign of what?” Donja blurted.
“That he wants you, either to kill you and drink your blood, or to mark you as his own.”
“Well let’s call the police.” Donja groaned. “On second thought, let’s go to the damn station right now.”
Makala laughed hysterically. “We can’t,” she sobbed, her tear-streaked faced illuminated by the dashboard lights. “They would kill my father and make me watch before killing me. Same for you, they’d kill Frankie and then your mom in your presence, then kill you.”
“Who?”
“The Council.”
“What the fuck’s a Council?” Donja screamed.
“A group of powerful elites who will kill all who dare to expose them as Iridescents.”
Donja turned into the drive and sped through the trees toward Hampton Manor. She parked the Mustang and they got out, running barefoot for the front door. Atop the steps while Makayla fumbled for her keys, Donja grasped her arm. “Is that man, Torin, a member of the Council?”
“Yes, but a lesser member than the elites.”
“And Gage?”
“Yes, he and Torin work under the guise of the Soo Police Department not only to conceal evidence against Iridescents but to gain knowledge of rogue Iridescents who must be terminated.”
“So, they’re like hitmen taking out both sides as needed to protect their identity.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s one way to look at it.”
“And why on earth would this scar-faced beast want me?”
“Donja!” A male voice shattered the night.
They both spun amid horrified gasps and Makayla dropped her keys. Donja backed to the door, her eyes on Torin, sitting on the hood of her Mustang. He motioned with his finger, moonlight glistening on his wet, ebony hair.
“Get inside,” Donja whispered to Makayla, her eyes locked on Torin.
“No, I put you in this predicament, let me try to reason with him.”
“No way. Now get inside,” Donja said as she padded down the steps and out to the drive. She stopped and glanced back to the house, Makayla was gone. She glanced back at Torin who was soaking wet. His right eye was swollen, his nose bloodied. She walked toward him and noticed his shirt was ripped with one sleeve dangling.
“Don’t come any closer!” he snapped with a voice that sent her heart aflutter. She stopped, eying him from afar. She saw him shiver.