In Factorem - The Coming Winter

Chapter 5 - The Agents

I sit motionless for what feels like an eternity, eventually opening my eyes to see her standing in front of me, waiting…half bent over with her hand out. Over her shoulder I can see the handle of her katana sticking out of its sheath.

Behind her are the smoky remains of my house. Just a pile of shattered lumber sprayed around a crater. Flames are gently licking my neighbor’s houses threatening to take them down to ashes with mine. I look to my side, around the front of the car, and see the lifeless form of the man still lying in the street, not far from Officer Johnson.

People are starting to come out into the street, looking in our direction. No doubt they are curious about the massive blast that just shattered the peacefulness of the evening.

“I know this is confusing,” the woman says, “but we must go. Now. Before the rest come.”

People are starting to run toward us now, yelling and asking if we are okay. I can hear the radio in the police car coming to life. People must be calling in the emergency.

The thought of it snaps me back to reality. The police are looking for me, and I’m not sure what they will think of my house exploding. I look back up at the woman. Her eyes are locked onto mine, like they are searching for something. Like they are digging into my soul.

I reach out, grabbing her hand, and she pulls me to my feet. They’re still a little shaky at the moment, but the woman helps steady me.

“Come on, we have to go,” she whispers, motioning to her car.

People are all around the street now, assisting the man in black and Officer Johnson. Some of them are coming toward us, but the woman guides me around the police car and over to her car.

She opens the passenger door and then runs around to get in on the other side. I take one more look at the crater and think about Alex.

The woman starts up the car and revs the engine. “Get in,” she says, a little more forcefully this time.

And I do. I don’t know why, but something about her feels familiar. I buckle up as she begins to careful dodge the pedestrians swarming the street. Some of them are waving and shouting at us, some of them are stunned by the carnage, and some are snapping videos and pictures of the burning street. We emerge from my street and there are fewer people around. The woman steps on the gas and we speed off.

Finally the curiosity gets the better of me. I look over at her. Her eyes are focused ahead as she concentrates on the street. Her dark hair hangs down a little over her eyes, glowing slightly and swaying with the shifting of the car.

“What’s going on?” I ask. “Who are you? Who were those men?”

The mailboxes blur by as we weave around parked cars.

“I was following them, but apparently it was the wrong car to follow. I heard the explosion and came this way.”

“Following who? There’s another car?”

“Well, it would appear that there are at least two cars,” she says flatly.

While she’s talking, we come upon an intersection and I barely have time to shout as I see another car smash into the driver’s door. I jerk sideways in my seatbelt as the car slides around and skids to a halt.

I look over and see the woman is still awake, although the driver’s side door is smashed in against her body. She reaches underneath her coat and runs a hand along her ribs. Amazingly, she seems unharmed and there’s no blood. She reaches down along the dented door and pulls out what’s left of her katana. It’s bent in multiple places and the sheath is splintered, but it may have kept the car from crumpling all the way in.