In the City
Part Seven: Into the Tower
Justine took the point as she and her two companions wandered the halls of what were once the Wolfram & Hart offices.
There had been a battle here, Riley had explained to them. Big enough to shake the foundations. Wolfram & Hart chose to not rebuild. The building was scheduled for demolition, but that seemed to keep getting delayed.
“Good for us,” said Amy. “Else we’d never be having this swell time.”
Oz shined his flashlight ahead of them. Justine could sense something wrong. They were still on the ground floor, but the hallway past the lobby seemed to go on for too long.
“There’s still a lot of magic here,” said Amy, suddenly serious. “Can’t you two feel it?”
“I feel it," said Oz,” pushing forward. Amy just sighed.
“You never take me anywhere nice.”
Justine heard a crick somewhere behind them, a tiny rustle. She pulled her stake and waited for movement. None came.
She turned, and found Oz was also looking back where they came from.
“You hear it too?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s gone.”
“Uh, guys,” said Amy. They turned in unison to look at her, and saw her pointing toward a small crowd of skeletons wearing the remains of three-piece suits, all of which were now beginning to walk toward them.
Justine didn’t hesitate. She leapt into the crowd, and began knocking skulls as skeletal hands reached toward her. Oz and Amy fell back.
“You going to do something,” asked Oz, patiently.
“I’m … I … need a few minutes.”
“Done.”
Oz picked up a broken chair leg, and began to swing at the crowd. They didn’t fall down. Amy began to chant under her breath, then stronger and louder, but Justine could tell she needed more time.
She kept hitting skeletons.
One broke past her guard and landed a bony punch on her head. She fell, dazed. The skeleton hefted an abandoned desk above his head, ready to finish her off. Oz screamed, but it all sounded very far away.
She rolled, hoping her shoulder would take the brunt of the blow. There was a pneumatic pop, barely audible, and the skeleton’s skull exploded. The desk fell upon its collapsing bones.
Justine looked up, saw Oz about to be overwhelmed, and leaped toward him, rattling the skeletons’ rotting bones. Finally, Amy finished what she was trying to do, and the remaining skeletons caught fire and disintegrated.
The three caught their breath wordlessly. For a moment there was silence, and then a slow, almost-mocking clap.
They looked up to see the teenager Justine had seen in the picture, perched upon a fallen beam. Relaxed, but ready to spring if need be.
“Connor,” said Oz, under his breath. “Justine tried desperately to place the name, but nothing came.
“Not bad,” said the boy. “Not bad at all.”
“Could have leant a hand,” said Oz.
“I got you here, didn’t I? The last place I saw Angel alive. Well, you know what I mean.”
“Thought you weren’t going to join us,” said Oz. “You sounded pretty certain.”
“Oh, I’m not,” he said. “Joining. But I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
The boy then leapt backward into the shadows, and disappeared.
“That’s a really neat trick,” said Amy. “How come none of us can do that?”
There was a muffled giggling, coming from somewhere off in the distance.
“I think that’s enough for recon,” said Oz.
“Time to go talk to the watcher,” said Amy, mockingly. Justine didn’t get the reference.
“More like talked to the watched, said Oz.