Last Descendants

  “Do you think they got everyone?” Owen asked.

  “It looked like it,” Javier said. “I think we were the only ones who escaped. Except for Monroe. I can’t believe he just took off.”

  “I think he was trying to make a way for us to escape,” Owen said. “At least, I hope he was.”

  “They probably caught him, too, in that stupid bus.”

  Owen kicked at a rock. It bounced off the sycamore and landed in the bushes. “This is insane!” he shouted. “What did we go through all that for?”

  Javier thought about what it was he had just gone through. He remembered the sharp pressure of the knives stabbing him. Cudgel’s fear and grief of knowing he had failed and that he was about to die. He remembered the seconds that had passed as he lost consciousness, tasting blood, and the pain of the blade in his back with each breath.

  “Hey,” Owen said. “Are we good now?”

  Javier looked at him. He mostly saw Owen, and very little of the Assassin. Still, he wasn’t sure if they were good, but he wanted them to be. “Yeah. I think so.”

  “I saw you fighting that agent.” Owen shook his head. “That was incredible.”

  “I don’t know how I did that. I didn’t even think about it. I just went for it.”

  “That must be a Bleeding Effect. Your ancestor could fight, and now you can, too.”

  “I guess so.”

  Owen turned and glanced back down in the direction of the city. “Seriously, what are we going to do?”

  “They’ll be looking for us,” Javier said. “I think we have to stay up here for a while.”

  “But don’t you think we should help the others?”

  “How?” Javier asked. “I mean, sure, I’d love to help the others. But it’s just the two of us, and we don’t even know where they took them.”

  “So, what, we just sit here?”

  “For now,” Javier said. But it felt like stalling, because eventually they’d have to return to the city. He sure as hell didn’t know how to live off the land, and he knew Owen didn’t, either. They’d be thirsty and hungry before long. But they’d go back to the city and then what? Those agents weren’t playing around. At least they were using Tasers and not guns. That meant they wanted everyone alive, probably to find out what they knew about the Piece of Eden.

  Javier grabbed a big log and dragged it over closer to the fire pit, and then he brushed his hands off and sat down. Not that he planned to light a fire. It just seemed like the thing to do. It reminded him of the cookouts his family used to have on the beach, grilling shrimp and chicken on skewers right over the flames, wrapping blankets around themselves after the sun went down. They hadn’t done that for a while. The last time had been a kind of welcome home after his brother got out of prison, so it was different, and no one had really been into it.

  Owen sat down next to Javier on the log. “So we just sit here,” he said.

  “Yup.”

  For the next hour that’s what they did, talking mostly about the simulation as the day got warm and dry. They stayed away from the fact that they, or their ancestors, had been trying to kill each other, and focused on the other aspects of the experience. The city, their weapons, their ancestor’s abilities. But eventually they wore that topic down until there wasn’t much of it left, and then Owen took the conversation where Javier didn’t want it to go.

  “So what happened to you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not talking about the Animus,” Owen said. “Before that. Why’d you start ignoring me?”

  Javier really didn’t want to talk about that. But he knew Owen wouldn’t give it up. Owen never gave anything up, and they were stuck together on a log in the mountains. Javier figured he might as well get it over with.

  “I’ve just been dealing with a lot of my own stuff,” he said.

  “Like what?” Owen asked.

  “Just stuff, man. I don’t know.”

  “Well, why didn’t you tell me?”

  Javier didn’t want to answer that, either, but Owen asked again, so Javier decided to keep going and be upfront with him. “Look. What you went through with your dad and everything, I know how bad that was, and I get why you’re mad. But you were so focused on it all the time, and—”

  “And what?” Owen said, sounding angry.

  Javier sighed. “Just let me finish—”

  “What do you expect?” Owen said, his voice getting loud. “They sent my dad to prison and he died there.”

  “Yeah, they did,” Javier said. “But they sent my brother to prison, too.”

  “That’s because he beat the crap out of someone!”

  When Owen said that, Javier had to get up and walk away a few steps, turning his back. Anger pulled his hands into fists and tightened the muscles around his neck and shoulders, and who knew what the hell he would do to Owen with these Bleeding Effects. After a few minutes of deep breathing to calm himself down, he turned back around.

  “I just had a lot of my own crap without having to deal with your crap, too. That’s all it was. It wasn’t personal.”

  “Seems personal to me.”

  “Well, there’s nothing I can do about that. You take it however you want, but that’s what happened.”

  Owen was quiet for a few minutes, staring into the cold fire pit. “So what’s this crap you had going on?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Is it your mom? Or more stuff with your brother?”

  Javier looked up at the sky as a bird flew out of a tree. It was big, a falcon or a hawk, he could never tell the difference. “It isn’t anything like that,” he said. “I came out to my family a year ago.”

  “Oh.” Owen sat back on the log. “I didn’t know you were …”

  “Yeah,” Javier said. It hadn’t been easy. His family was all Catholic or Baptist, and even though he knew his parents wouldn’t kick him out of the house or anything, he had worried about their acceptance of him when he told the truth about who he was.

  “How did your parents react?” Owen asked.

  “My mom was really great about it. My dad took a few days to come around, but he’s cool now.”

  “What about your brother?”

  “That’s why he went to prison,” Javier said. “Some redneck called me a faggot, and Mani just went off on him.” At the time, Javier had watched his brother beating on that guy, feeling a weird mix of gratitude, fear, and pride. “I don’t even think the guy thought I was gay. I think he was just using the word to insult me.”

  “Does anyone else know? No one at school’s said—”

  “Nobody knows except my family. And now you.”

  “Wow.” Owen nodded. “It’s really not a big deal. I’m sure you could tell—”

  “Look, I appreciate what you’re saying, but right now I’m just trying to fit in, okay? It’ll happen in its time. When I’m ready.”

  “Okay,” Owen said, and after a pause, he added, “Thanks for telling me.”

  “Like you gave me a choice.” Javier meant it half-jokingly, but he was actually kind of relieved that someone else finally knew, and he was also glad it was Owen, because with Owen, he knew it wouldn’t change anything between them.

  A few more hours passed. Javier spent them listening for approaching vehicles and worrying about the others and what Abstergo had done with them. He was also starting to get hungry and legitimately concerned about what he and Owen were going to do.

  Around midday, a stranger came walking out of the trees, startling them. He had a shaved head, dark complexion, and wore sunglasses, with black pants that almost looked like military fatigues, and a hooded leather jacket over a white T-shirt.

  “How’re you fellas doing?” he asked.

  Javier glanced at the bike. “Should we make a run for it?” he whispered to Owen.

  “That guy looks familiar,” Owen said, seeming a
lot less concerned than Javier felt.

  The stranger pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head, still strolling toward them. “I’m Griffin,” he said, his voice deep and drawn out, a bit like a slowed down audio track of someone talking. “And from the looks of it, Monroe has gotten you guys into a hell of a lot of trouble with the Templars.”

  So this guy clearly knew who they were and what was going on, but the way he said the name Templars led Javier to believe he wasn’t with them. Javier and Owen looked at each other, and in that moment of hesitation and confusion, Griffin drew closer.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not here to take you in or take you out.”

  “Then what are you doing here?” Owen asked.

  “I just want to talk.”

  “About what?” Javier readied himself to run, but worried that Owen wouldn’t, and he wasn’t going to leave him behind.

  Griffin reached the fire pit and stopped, glancing back and forth between them. “I want to talk about you, and your futures.”

  “How do I know you?” Owen asked.

  “I took down a Templar agent for you the other night,” he said. “I wanted to stop you from going with Monroe, but you outran me.” He glanced over at the motorcycle. “On that, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “You’re the Assassin,” Owen said.

  Griffin nodded and walked over to the bike. Then he reached under one of the motorcycle’s angled panels and yanked out a bundle of wires.

  “Hey!” Javier shouted.

  “This is an Abstergo bike,” Griffin said. “And you don’t really know how it works. I just took out a tracking device that’s been broadcasting your location for the past few hours. It’s a pretty high-frequency signal, so someone would have to get pretty close to pick it up. But I found you.”

  Javier had no way of knowing if that was actually true or not. Maybe it was Cudgel’s mind still influencing him, or maybe it was just common sense, but he had no desire to engage with an Assassin. Owen, however, no longer seemed troubled at all. Perhaps his Assassin ancestor was influencing him. A Bleeding Effect of some kind.

  “You said you wanted to talk to us.” Javier decided he might have to run without Owen. “So what do you have to say?”

  Griffin leaned against the bike and folded his arms. “Abstergo has your four friends in their custody.”

  “What about Monroe?” Owen asked.

  “He got away. I’m not sure where he is.”

  “And?” Javier asked. “Or did you just come here to state the obvious?”

  “I need to know what your friends are going to tell Abstergo,” Griffin said. “I need to know why Monroe had you all together. I assume you went into the Animus searching for a Piece of Eden. Am I right?”

  “Why would you assume that?” Javier asked.

  “Abstergo’s been after Monroe for a long time,” Griffin said. “For him to risk coming out of hiding, he would need to have something he thought would change the game, and the only thing big enough to do that is a Piece of Eden.”

  Owen looked at Javier, and then he said, “Can I talk to Javier alone for a minute?”

  “Sure,” Griffin said. “But make it quick. We’re running out of time.”

  Griffin pulled his sunglasses back down and walked away a short distance, far enough Javier didn’t think he could overhear them, but close enough that the Assassin clearly wanted to keep his eyes on them while they talked.

  “I think we should tell him,” Owen said.

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Maybe he can help us find Monroe and rescue the others.”

  “Or maybe he’s lying and he’s just using us to get the Piece of Eden.”

  “But I’ve been in the memories of an Assassin.”

  “So?” Javier said. “That doesn’t make you an Assassin. Or are you already forgetting what Monroe said?”

  “It’s not that,” Owen said. “I’m not confused. I trust them.”

  “All of them? Without question?”

  “I trust the Creed,” Owen said.

  Javier just stared at him. That confirmed it, this was definitely a Bleeding Effect, because the Owen he knew wouldn’t blindly trust some guy who’d just walked up asking what they knew about a powerful weapon that could win wars and turn generals into presidents. Owen’s time in the Animus had changed him. But there also wasn’t anything Javier could do to stop Owen if he decided to side with Griffin.

  “Well, what’s your plan?” Owen asked. “Just sit up here in the hills forever?”

  Javier swatted at a fly that had buzzed into his face. “Whatever.”

  “Whatever? What does that mean?”

  “That means … do what you’re going to do.”

  Owen stood there a moment, and then he nodded once, firmly. “I’m going to tell him. If he turns on us, it’s on me.” Then he called to Griffin, and when the Assassin sauntered back over, he said. “Yes, we went into the Animus searching for a Piece of Eden.”

  Javier shook his head and took a step backward away from them. He wasn’t going to be a part of this.

  “Where?” Griffin asked.

  “New York City,” Owen said. “1863.”

  “Which Piece of Eden?”

  “It was a dagger,” Owen said. “From the Aztec Club. But Cortés brought it over to Mexico from Spain.”

  “Cortés?” Griffin’s demeanor shifted, hardening up. “Do you know where he got it?”

  “The king gave it to him,” Owen said. “But I think the king got it from the pope.”

  “Did the Animus show you where the Piece of Eden is now?”

  “Maybe,” Owen said. “We think it might be somewhere around the house where Ulysses Grant died. He had it last.”

  “Thank you,” Griffin said. “This is exactly what I needed.”

  But now that he had what he needed, Javier wondered what that meant for him and Owen. “What happens now?” he asked.

  “Now?” Griffin took a seat on the log. “Now I’d like to ask you two to come with me.”

  When the Abstergo agents came in through the roof of the warehouse, Tommy Greyling would have fought them, and fought them hard. When they grabbed Natalya, he would have broken any hand that touched her. But Sean could only sit in his wheelchair and watch as two agents seized him from behind. He tried to scramble out of his chair, even if it meant crawling. But they pinned him to his seat.

  He was powerless.

  David tried to run, but they Tased him, and at that point, Grace lost it. She ran screaming at the agent who’d done it, pummeling him with her fists, but two other agents tackled her and restrained her.

  Monroe’s bus rammed the warehouse door, ripping it down, and he sped off, followed by Owen and Javier on Monroe’s motorcycle. Sean didn’t blame them for escaping, but it angered him, as if they were abandoning the rest of them.

  A couple of black cars pulled up to the front of the warehouse, and after a few of the agents had piled in, they tore away after Owen and Javier. Then a big white armored van drove right into the warehouse, and agents opened up the back doors. First, they put Natalya in, and then Grace and David.

  “Where are you taking us?” Sean asked as they wheeled him over.

  The agents said nothing. They wore full bodysuits of armor, and sleek helmets, so he couldn’t see any of their faces.

  Several of them lifted him up in his wheelchair, and he swayed helplessly as they loaded him into the van with the others. The interior smelled of machine oil and vinyl. Agents strapped Natalya, Grace, and David onto a bench along one side of the vehicle, and they rolled Sean to the other side and strapped his chair to the sidewall.

  “Where are you taking us?” Sean asked again.

  The agents ignored him and filed out of the van, after which they shut the double doors and latched them, trapping them in a cell filled with yellow, artificial light.

  “This is Monroe’s fault,” Grace said, looking over at her brother. David seemed dazed, with blank
and glassy eyes, still suffering from the effects of the Tasing.

  “Is he okay?” Sean asked.

  “That agent said he will be,” Grace said. “He said it takes about an hour for the effects to wear off.”

  “Blaming Monroe doesn’t do us much good,” Natalya said. “Does it?”

  “I don’t care!” Grace shouted. “We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him!”

  The van’s engine barked and rumbled, and with a jolt that tipped the other three sideways in unison, they were moving. The compartment had no windows, so they had no indication where they were going.

  “We can’t tell them anything,” Sean said.

  “What do you mean?” Grace asked.

  “They know we were looking for a Piece of Eden,” he said. “We can’t tell them where it is.”

  “You keep to yourself whatever you want,” Grace said. “We’re on our own here. Monroe took off, and so did Owen and Javier. My main priority is to get me and my brother home safely, and I’ll say what I need to say to make that happen. I don’t care if my ancestor hated Templars or not.”

  “After what you saw in the simulation?” Natalya asked.

  “Especially after what I saw in the simulation,” Grace said. “My brother should not have had to go through that, and that’s on Monroe, too.”

  She put her arm around her brother, but David still said nothing, looking up at his sister as she spoke, his mouth hanging a little slack.

  Sean could see it wouldn’t do any good to keep arguing with her, so he decided to let it go until they reached their destination. When he knew more about what was going on, maybe he’d have a better idea of what to do about it.

  They drove for a while, jostled and bumped, listening to the whine of the tires, and Sean lost track of the time. It felt like an hour or more had passed before the van seemed to slow. But it didn’t stop, which meant they had probably left the freeway. They also seemed to be mounting an incline, because Sean felt a slight tug of gravity against his chair.

  David roused himself along the way, fully alert and back to himself by the time the van finally came to a stop. The engines went quiet and the vehicle settled into place.

  Then Sean heard the latches at the back, and he and the others turned to look as the rear doors squealed open. The agents in riot gear were gone. Instead, a woman in a white lab coat stood below them outside, holding a clipboard. Two burly guys flanked her, wearing gray uniforms that had a martial appearance, or at least that of security, with the Abstergo logo on their chests and upper arms in reflective silver. All three individuals had name badges clipped to their clothing, the men at their breast pockets and the woman at the lapel of her coat.