The Invictus, page 21
Craig looked at Danny.
“Huh? What for?” Danny said.
“Forgive me, but I like privacy in these types of discussions. To ensure nothing inappropriate is inadvertently disclosed. I’m sure you understand.”
The request struck Craig as strange. But he reasoned this might be an aspect of Danny’s work when it involved sensitive topics that weren’t to be shared. He shrugged off the request and withdrew the phone from his jacket, then laid it on the table as Danny relented and did the same.
Each assistant retrieved a phone. The man who collected Craig’s turned it on and reviewed the display.
“Hey, pal!” Danny warned.
Bishop turned to his assistant. “That will be quite enough, Thomas.” He turned back to Danny. “My apologies, Detective. Please, won’t you have a seat as well?”
“I’m okay to stand,” Danny demurred. “My knee tends to lock up.”
“Oh, of course. I’m sure it does.”
Craig looked over at his cousin, who obviously had his guard up. They were in an unfamiliar part of the city, in the basement of an obscure location, flanked by two men whose presence and purpose still wasn’t clear to him. And now they were without their phones.
Craig brought his attention back to Bishop and watched him intently. Bishop had a sense of gravitas about him, as if he was in command of the situation: of his assistants, the setting, even himself and Danny. And he made it look effortless. Now Craig was even more intrigued about what this stranger might be able to offer them.
“Tell me a little of your story, Craig,” Bishop said. “Your cousin, no doubt, has shared with you at least some of what he and I have discussed.”
“Yeah, so, about that . . .” Craig looked at Danny as if seeking his blessing.
“Go ahead, Craig. Tell him about how you’ve been able to see things. The images in your head. After your dad passed things on to you. And how you’re able to sometimes understand what goes on in other people’s heads, and that it all seems to be rooted in the challenges you’ve dealt with throughout your life.”
Craig took his cues from Danny. He didn’t share how he had conjured in the Iowa church the re-creation of the night his dad was killed. It was then, when Craig was only ten years old, that his father first hid Craig from view and then seemed to pass energy from his hands to Craig’s. Right after that, Craig’s father was attacked and killed by the Tourist.
He did, however, talk about the emotional trauma he had endured after his father abruptly died. Craig spoke of the physical ordeal of being bullied as a child, and that he was now addressing it with martial arts training. He delved into some of his powers, including the work he had done in the past few years helping Danny interpret grisly crime scenes by making physical contact with their surroundings with his hands. He avoided the detail that he could accurately summon those scenes visually for Danny to see as well.
Bishop’s eyes grew wide in amazement as Craig recounted this brief history.
Craig paused to consider whether to describe his most dramatic powers, his spontaneous healing, and his ability to project force from his hands in self-defense. But he fell silent.
Bishop clearly registered the pause.
“Fascinating,” he said, his eyes alight. “Clearly, trauma has sparked these abilities. But you’ve also been able to reach inside yourself and bring them to life.”
“‘Reach inside yourself,’” Craig repeated. He glanced up at Danny. “That sounds a lot like a Lauren Harris saying, doesn’t it?” Craig hoped Danny might now see that Lauren’s metaphysical ideas could have some validity.
“Ms. Harris is . . . ?” Bishop questioned.
“My girlfriend.”
“The struggles and difficulties you have revealed certainly seem in line with some of the extraordinary people I’ve told the detective about,” Bishop said. “I’ve had the good fortune to spend time with some truly special people who could do seemingly miraculous things. I feel privileged to be in the company of yet another who has shown such budding promise.”
Craig realized he was holding his breath. Suddenly, it seemed as if all the questions about his strange powers were about to be answered. “Tell me more,” he said.
As he watched Craig’s reaction, Danny shifted uncomfortably.
“You must know,” Bishop said, “that each of these individuals bore a heavy burden, one they gladly shouldered. Eventually, they all displayed even more abilities—attacking powers that they used against those who sought to employ the heavy hand of villainy.”
“Villainy,” Danny repeated, puzzled. “But fighting villains is law enforcement’s job.”
“Forgive me, Detective, but these unusual individuals possess quite another set of tools. They can see things that have occurred, sense the intentions of others. They have the power required to deal with certain threats that law enforcement oftentimes cannot.”
“Exactly!” Craig exclaimed. Finally I’m listening to someone who understands.
Bishop nodded. “What appears to be emerging with you, Craig, is something I’ve witnessed in others. They are part of a larger community of similarly gifted people who are critical to delivering balance to the dark nature of others.”
The room fell silent, and then Bishop leaned across the table, speaking slowly and intently. “Against those who spread, you might say, evil. People like you have the power to stop it, and a noble calling it is. It’s a brotherhood of sorts. One that has proven to be quite resilient. In fact, they call themselves ‘unconquerable.’ They have adopted the Latin term for this: Invictus. They refer to themselves as a community or a council, and they often mark their work and their presence by means of but three letters—”
“C, O, I?” Craig interrupted, wide-eyed.
“Precisely,” Bishop answered, smiling pleasantly.
“Wait, what?” Danny stepped closer to the table. The closest assistant locked his attention on Danny, as if letting him know that Bishop would be protected.
Neither Danny nor Craig could suppress their reaction to the meaning of the letters that had posed such a mystery to them.
“You’re telling us that Craig is supposed to be part of this group?” Danny asked.
Bishop ignored Danny’s question, keeping his gaze leveled on Craig. “The Council of the Invictus, as they call themselves, has shown a great willingness to stand in the struggle against dark forces.”
“So I haven’t been alone in this for my whole life,” Craig whispered.
“Oh no. Anything but, actually,” Bishop replied.
Craig let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good to know. I’m not gonna lie, but there have been times when I’ve wished I could just be normal.”
“Normal? Why would you want that, son? You have extraordinary talents.” Bishop narrowed his eyes. “You have been cloaked with amazing abilities. You just need to focus them and loosen yourself from any angst or confusion that’s restricting you. Let your abilities flow and impress upon the world what you feel is proper and right.”
“I guess that is what my dad wanted for me,” Craig acknowledged, his eyes drifting to the floor. A sudden rush of confidence filled him.
Danny seemed to have sensed it. He mumbled, “That’s not the way Michael talked about it.”
“Huh?” Craig said, trying to understand what his cousin just said.
Bishop continued to press his case. “To be part of this cause, one must truly embrace the power that simmers just beneath the surface. The individuals I’ve known had real power. Maybe in time, you could be similarly empowered to do the Council’s work. But for that to come to pass, you would need to be able to do things like this.”
Bishop lifted one hand off the table and extended his palm toward the small glass of brown liquid. He grimaced slightly. For a moment, nothing happened. Then faint ripples emanated from Bishop’s palm toward the glass, appearing to push against it and nudging it several inches toward the middle of the table. It kept moving until it stopped in front of Craig about a foot from the edge of the table.
Craig and Danny were stunned speechless.
“What the hell . . . ?” Danny gasped at last.
Craig’s eyes darted between the glass and Bishop’s hand, which was still outstretched across the table. He can do what I can do! he thought.
Without acknowledging their reaction, Bishop went on. “Craig, you said your father passed on these gifts to you. A curious origin. How did he counsel you about your path ahead? How did he explain it?”
Craig struggled to refocus after what he had just witnessed. “Well, that’s just it. He didn’t. That’s why we’ve been so puzzled for so long. In one of those visions I told you about, I saw my dad give me the things I can do. He passed it to me as I slept. He passed it into my hands. I was a child, about ten years old. He didn’t have the chance to tell me about it before he died.”
“A child? You have known nothing of this cause and your journey?” Bishop looked surprised at first, then crestfallen. “Oh, this is unexpected.”
“Why? What’s wrong with that?” Craig asked.
“Unless you have been trained and mentored, it’s impossible for you to truly embrace the calling and become what you’re intended to be.”
“But I’ve been working to understand,” Craig pushed. “And there’s really a lot I can do already—”
“Craig, stop,” Danny said firmly.
Craig looked up at Danny, irritated by the interruption. “I think the colonel can help us understand.”
Bishop’s keen eyes moved between them. “Is there something more here that you’d like to discuss?”
“No,” Danny snapped. “There have been other things we’ve discussed, but I don’t think now is the time.”
Craig glared at his cousin, frowning in anger. Why are you blocking this? he thought. We’ve finally found someone who can enlighten us, and you want to hold back now?
Craig looked at Bishop and said, “You’re like me, at least in some way. I need to understand everything—why I can do these things, what I’m supposed to do with them. Please, help me. I have to know more. I really want to embrace this power you’ve told us about, this ‘Invictus.’”
“I’m sure you do, son.” Bishop took a deep breath and gently clasped his hands. “I am sorry. But through no fault of your own, the unique gifts within you are incomplete. You have not yet become worthy of wielding the power.”
“Not worthy?” Danny piped in.
“No offense is intended, Detective. What Craig has shared is truly unique, remarkable. But the Council is very intentional in selecting those in whom they will cultivate such abilities. Craig will need more time to develop his.”
“But I can do things like what you just did. I know it.”
“Perhaps.”
A voice calling down the stairs interrupted them, speaking in a tongue that sounded like a Chinese dialect. Bishop responded in the same tongue, then turned back to Craig and Danny.
“Gentlemen, your story is truly something to behold, but not what I expected. I think you have seen that I am a good judge of these things. I’m not sure how and when your abilities were given to you, Craig. Please understand, I do not doubt you. However, those who are special enough to be part of the Council need to understand and embrace their gifts more than you have had the chance to do. It is a league of truly extraordinary people, and not of children.”
“I’m not a child,” Craig shot back.
“Oh, I know you are not now. But you received your gifts as a child, and this means your understanding is likely clouded, muddled.”
“Then show me. Teach me,” Craig pleaded.
“I mean no offense, young man. This is heavy and powerful work, and it is only for those who are ready to unleash themselves to do what needs to be done.”
“What do you mean ‘what needs to be done’?” Danny jumped in.
Bishop’s expression soured, as if he was offended by the inquiry, but he kept his attention on Craig. “Best of luck to you, young man,” he said. “I have other commitments that I must see to now.” He raised his gaze to Danny. “I wish I could be of more help, Detective. I’m sure you understand.”
With that, Bishop stood. His two assistants rose and tossed their cell phones back to them. The three men quickly ascended the staircase and then they were gone.
By the time Craig and Danny exited the Military Center, a steady rain had resumed. Craig’s mood matched it.
“You bring me to see this guy. He can actually do the same things that I can! Tells us there’s this secret society I’m supposed to be a part of. Then he bolts before I can learn more!” Craig vented, barking over his shoulder as he walked briskly ahead of Danny and toward the car, trying to shield his head from the rain with his hand.
Danny struggled to keep pace while cinching his trench coat against the rain and pivoting off his cane. “I don’t know why that happened, Craig. Wasn’t expecting that.”
“Damn it, Danny! Why didn’t you let me go into more detail with him?” Craig shouted.
“Because it didn’t seem right. The way he was describing the situation—it seemed off.”
“But this was the guy you thought was so important for me to meet. Now I’m not supposed to talk to him? Besides, how would you know if the way he’s describing things is right or not? You know less about this than me. I’ve got the power; you don’t.”
The last sentence landed on Danny as they reached the car. He whipped open the door. “Get in the damn car!” Danny ordered as they clambered in.
They sat inside, shaking off the rain.
“So close. So damn close,” Craig muttered. “We’ve got to get in front of that guy again. Can you arrange it? Like you did today?”
“Just hold on for a second,” Danny cautioned.
But Craig wouldn’t let up. “Why wouldn’t you let me share anything more? I deserve an answer.”
“You were the one who was tentative at the beginning, remember? As the conversation went on, I thought it best that you didn’t lay all your cards on the table.”
“But this was your guy, Danny.”
“Yeah, and he turned out to be an asshole,” Danny spat. “And you’re not. At least you’re not supposed to be. Look, I didn’t get that attitude from him at all in our other interactions.”
Craig blew air out of his nose. “This guy has abilities like mine. Maybe knows others too. And he crosses our paths when we learn there’s another one of those . . . things here in Chicago. We have to learn as much as we can so we can be ready. We found someone who might explain it all, and now he’s tossed us aside because he thinks I’m unworthy.”
“Which is bullshit,” Danny replied. “And you’re right that there’s something to Bishop. But I’ve uncovered other leads too, and hell, I’ve been begging you to listen. This guy is just one of the pieces that’s coming into place.”
Craig rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes as he calmed down. “It’s just a lot right now, Danny. The powers are back. Lauren’s mad at me. There are these new people. I’m just trying to figure shit out, you know?”
“Of course, I know, damn it!” Danny braced himself against the steering wheel as he gazed at Craig. “We’re in this thing together, aren’t we?”
“Of course!”
“Today may not have turned out exactly as we wanted, but the guy panned out,” Danny said. “And the other guy will too. In spades.”
“And you’re sure about this? This other guy? I feel like we missed our chance right here.”
“Just leave that for now, will ya? Let me connect this one other major dot.” He paused to make sure Craig was with him.
Although he was still feeling irritated, Craig appreciated that Danny’s search for answers was rooted in more than his own self-interest. “Okay, shoot,” he said.
“There’s so much more to this than we’ve known before, Craig. Things are about to get deep for you, even deeper than what you learned from that asshole in there.”
“Yeah? How?” Craig asked, looking for something, anything, to latch on to.
“There’s someone who can clue you in better than I ever could. Tomorrow would be a good day to drop in and catch Michael . . . I mean, Father Timothy, at St. John’s on Madison Street. He can bring you up to speed.”
“This is the priest you’ve been talking to?” Craig shook his head, skeptically. “I don’t know, man. First Bishop, and now some priest? I feel like we’re chasing after phantoms or something. Maybe Lauren has been right all along, that the answers are supposed to be found inside, in the gut. Meanwhile, here I am struggling to see where all these other people might fit in. Think I’m just too desperate?”
Danny let out a slow, decompressing sigh. “No, you’re not. You’ll see. She is right. There’ll be a time for looking inside. But you need to know everything I know first.”
Craig drew in a long breath and blew it out. “Okay. Let’s see this through then. I trust you.”
Craig was still uncomfortably wet as he entered his apartment. He locked the door behind him and leaned against it, still brimming with anxiety as he shook his head and mulled over what he still believed was a missed opportunity with Bishop. Especially now that he knew there was another supernatural adversary that was aware of him and Danny. His sense of urgency seemed completely out of step with the pace of their efforts.
He heard a voice coming from the kitchen and stopped cold. Focusing intently, he thought he heard running water.
“Lauren?”
She stood in the doorframe of their small kitchen dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.
“Hi, Craig,” she said. She didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic to see him.
“I wasn’t expecting you to be here,” he said.
“My trip got cut short.”
“You want to talk?”
She nodded, appearing resigned as she headed back into the kitchen. Craig followed her, noting that her attitude was at odds with the desire to reconcile that she had expressed in her letter. She tended to a pot on the stove, keeping her back to him.
