The night air festered with tension, and John flew through the narrow streets of the town like a hurricane. His heart was thrashing in his chest, partly from strain, but much more from that low, single dread of being hunted. Fresh bitterness, the taste of betrayal in the tunnels that impressed into his head the vision of Jameson's cold, lifeless eyes and Winters' desperate sacrifice. But there was no time for this now—he had to move.
The Order of the Aether was closing in. He could feel it. He thought he could see shadows seem to stretch and twist in the corners of his vision as the echoes of footsteps reverberated about, never quite close enough to catch a glimpse of but near enough to be an unease. It must have been hours since he had been running through alleys, weaving and backtracking his course, cutting across vacant lots in desperate hope of shaking off the pursuit. No matter which way he turned, he still couldn't shake off the feeling that they were right behind him.
At last, John ducked into a narrow light, small, and abandoned building with its aged, ruined walls and shattered windows. This was not really much to hide in but would have to do for the time being. He squatted down behind a pile of rubble and tried to catch his breath and collect his racing mind. Much of it raced through his mind with confusion and fear. In its way, Jameson's betrayal had come as a bolt from the blue on a sunny day. With the Heart of Aether now within his grasp, John felt more alone than ever before.
His hand instinctively reached for the phone. There had to be somebody he could trust, somebody who hadn't been compromised. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he finally dialed the number, which he had never dialed in the years gone by. Perhaps an old friend and colleague, Professor Caleb Marshall, would give him the help he so badly needed now. Caleb had always been very cynical toward the Order and their interference, and now he would be a possible ally.
John listened as the phone rang twice before a groggy voice answered, "John? Is that you? It's the middle of the night."
"Hellfire man, I need your help," John stayed urgent, as his eyes darted nervously to the shadowed street outside. "I can't explain everything right now — there is no time. I'm in serious trouble from The Order. I need somewhere to go, just to be safe for a little while."
A pause on the other end, and John feared Caleb was about to tell him no. But finally his friend sighed. "Alright, John. Meet me at the old mill on the edge of town. It's quiet there, and no one will think to look for you."
"Thank you," John breathed, relief washing through him. "I'll be there soon."
John hung up, stepped outside, and carefully observed everything going on. The old mill was a bit far, but that was a good choice; it was isolated, quiet, far away from prying eyes. All he had to do was to arrive there without being caught.
As John lurched from shadow to shadow, he had the constant feeling that unseen eyes watched his every move. He jumped at every rustling leaf and distant sound; he just knew the Order was lurking somewhere in the dark, waiting for the right time to strike. He was to be very careful.
The outline of the old mill eventually met his gaze. The tall building hardly stood out against the night sky. Cautiously, John approached the mill, looking all about for any sign of movement. Feeling that he was not being followed, he pushed open a side door and stepped inside; the door let out a creaking sound in complete silence.
Dust and cold radiated from the inside out. The air sat thick with the odors of old wood and machinery. Caleb was waiting in the shadows for him. He came forward as John entered, his face a picture of both concern and curiosity.
"You look like you have been through hell," Caleb burst out in a whisper. "What in the world is going on, John? What have you gotten yourself into?
John quickly recounted the story of the last few days: the discovery of the Heart of Aether, Jameson's treachery, and the pursuit that seemed to never end by the Order. By now, Caleb listened with a deep frown, and his forehead knotted together at almost every word.
"This is worse than I thought," Caleb said when John had finished. "It's more dangerous than you realize. If they get their hands on that artifact, who knows what they'll do with it?"
"I know," John replied, desperation edging into his voice. "That's why I have to keep it safe. But I don't know who anymore I can put my trust in. Jameson… he was my mentor, and now he belongs to them. Who knows how many others are involved?"
Caleb laid a reassuring hand on John's shoulder. "You can trust me, John. We'll figure this out together. First, though, you need some rest. You can't stay on empty.".
Finally breaking down, John showed his exhaustion in heavy nodding. Too long has he been running on pure adrenaline; now, his body started to give out. Caleb took him to the corner of the mill where there lay a small, crudely made bed, and John sank onto it gratefully. He knew he wasn't supposed to stick around any one place too long, but for now, he didn't have a choice.
John, fitfully and dreamily, swayed into sleep, while Caleb stood beside the door, his head still in thought. He knew that the Order would not stop for anything. He knew that their time was limited. But for now they had a small reprieve—to take a moment, to catch their breath, and to plan for what to do next.
Yet even with relative security within the old mill, he couldn't shake off the sense of dread that had come to rest over him all too well. The Heart of Aether was an artifact of power; as long as it remained on his person, the Order would never, ever relent in their pursuit. He had to be always one step ahead, and with every hour, the net seemed to close in tighter around him.
To John, the night darkness seemed now to share that something, which was but a beginning. The serious fight was yet to take place, in a way that he had never imagined. All he could do at the moment was cling to hope that he could outsmart the Order and protect an artifact that had put him into this nightmare.