“Jacob come in.” He said into his comm—but just like every other time he had tried, all he got was empty static.
The speedster looked over at Diandra, who was still tending to Zane and his sickness. Leo sympathized with the psychic—after all, his first teleport hadn’t gone well either. But as they stayed stationary, waiting for the others, Leo’s anxiety began to rise, and his thoughts began to race—They were wasting time—They had to get Zane out of the area and back to the Brotherhood’s base ASAP. The longer they waited out here, close to Fort Koivisto, the more likely they would be captured. They were lucky they caught the soldiers at the fort off guard, but it wouldn’t be long before reinforcements arrived. And if the royals brought more high-ranking soldiers like the evolved woman with the stretching ability, they would be in trouble. Leo wanted to be as far away as possible when that happened.
Suddenly, he saw a shadow pass by him, and a moment later, Ravez de-cloaked and was standing with the group. Leo felt a sense of relief, followed by a massive tidal wave of dread as he realized that Jacob was still nowhere to be seen.
Ravez, as soon as he was in sight of Zane, ran over, took the psychic’s face in his hands and kissed him.
“Babe, I just threw up,” said Zane, covering his mouth, and pulling slightly away from his love.
“Right now, I do not care,” said Ravez, taking Zane’s hand and moving it away from his mouth. “I thought they were going to kill you, my love.”
Zane smiled, and this time, as Ravez went in for another kiss, Zane didn’t stop him. The two men met their lips in a passionate embrace that was filled with all the sorrow and joy they were feeling in that moment.
“I am glad they did not kill you,” said Ravez.
“Me too,” laughed Zane. Ravez smiled a genuine smile and placed his head against Zane’s.
It was a beautiful and tender moment that Leo wished they had more time for, but unfortunately there was still the matter of their missing lieutenant.
“Ravez…” said Leo, tapping the mercenary lightly on the shoulder. “Where’s Jacob?”
“He is not here?” asked Ravez, turning to face Leo.
“No, he went back into the fort to get you.”
“Why would he do such a thing? I can take care of myself.”
“He did it because you asked him to on the radio!” exclaimed Leo. He wasn’t mad at Ravez—not really. He just didn’t want to face the truth…at least not yet.
“My comm went dead shortly after Jacob teleported Diandra out. I figured that they were jamming our signal and decided to get out on my own.”
Leo couldn’t speak. He began pacing back and forth, not knowing what to do. He knew the truth, but he didn’t want to say it. Then it appeared—the confirmation of his theory. A large royal shuttle was flying towards them on the horizon. It reached the fort in less than a minute, hovered in place for a bit, and then ominously descended into the courtyard of Fort Koivisto.
“Grindaull is on that shuttle,” said Zane, slowly raising himself back onto his feet. His smile was gone, and his skin went pale.
“Grindaull? Why would Grindaull come here?” asked Diandra, terrified. She was looking over her body, making sure that none of her tattoos had been visible. Her cloak and gloves hid any trace of her Egon nature, but her paranoia was justified.
“I don’t know…Maybe he wanted to kill me while I was inside the fort,” replied Zane.
“No…you’re not the one he wanted,” said Leo. The other three turned to him, hoping for an explanation, but all they saw was the speedster’s eyes filled with tears and fear.
_________________________
Jacob had a hard time waking up. Whenever he opened his eyes, his vision was blurred and the room was spinning. He figured that he probably suffered some kind of neural damage, or mild concussion from the ELC blast. It wasn’t often that someone was hit by a pulse at point-blank range. He took a breath, to try and regain some composure, but felt a sharp pain in his side. It was safe to assume that whoever captured him was relentless. Probably beat him while he was knocked out, and broke a couple ribs, just for fun.
Teleporting didn’t work. He knew it was a long shot—the first thing they would have done after beating him senseless would have been implanting an inhibitor chip in him. If his hands weren’t tied above him, he could have felt for the chip—maybe it was fresh enough to dig out. But unfortunately, he was not so lucky.
He tried to look at his surroundings—to get a grasp of where he was, but the room just kept spinning in and out of focus. He felt nauseous, but he tried his best to refrain from vomiting all over himself. He didn’t want to give the royal scum-bags the satisfaction of knowing that they had reduced him down to a scared, trapped and brain-damaged animal.
A door creaked open and the sound of footsteps descending a set of stairs followed. He was underground then? Jacob could assume that they brought him to a dungeon, that is if he was still in Fort Koivisto. On top of all his other problems, he had no way of knowing how long he had been unconscious.
As the footsteps grew closer, Jacob tried to focus his vision, in an attempt to see his captor—but his eye lids kept closing uncontrollably. He wanted to face this person head on, but he lacked the strength. If he wasn’t using all his energy to avoid throwing up, he might have laughed and made some smart-ass joke, but unfortunately, he had more pressing concerns facing him.
“Hello, Mr. Knight.”
Jacob tried to lift his head to face the man who was addressing him, but he didn’t have the strength to keep his head upright. There was a long silence and then he screamed in pain as the man grabbed Jacob’s head and slammed it against the wall he was chained to.
“You look at me when I’m talking to you boy!”
Jacob opened his eyes and saw King Grindaull staring back at him. The king’s red eyes pierced through Jacob’s heart—causing deep unfathomable fear. He had seen those eyes in his nightmares, ever since he was a child, and always hoped with all his soul, that he would never have to see them in person. He couldn’t control himself as he soiled his pants and let out a terror-filled scream at the monster standing in front of him. Grindaull was still holding his head, digging his nails into Jacob’s flesh, drawing fresh blood that began to run down Jacob’s face and neck.
Filled with terror, Jacob knew this was the end for him. If anyone managed to ensnare the interest of the sadistic king, they were never heard from again. The only mystery was how long it would last. Would the king take his time and torture Jacob for months without end, or would he kill the brotherhood lieutenant right here and now. He wished with all his soul for Grindaull to show a shred of mercy and to make the end come quickly…
“…Kill…me…” Jacob managed to mutter out loud, pushing through blood and pain in his throat.
Grindaull’s eyes gleamed with delight. He smiled a sadistic, almost euphoric grin, and then the king brought his mouth right next to Jacob’s ear.
“Soon,” he whispered.
“…I’m not…going…to tell you…anything,” muttered Jacob, through his labored breathing.
“Oh, I know. That doesn’t make the torture any less fun.” Grindaull laughed.
The King’s laugh made Jacob’s skin crawl. He wanted to scream and hide as far away as he possibly could, but he was trapped. He was being held by an evil despot who was going to kill him, and he was completely at this man’s mercy. Jacob knew this was the truth of his situation—there was no denying it. There would be no rescue for him. He would die here when Grindaull decided it was time, and that’s all there was to it…and once Jacob realized this…he began to laugh. He laughed his usual smart-ass chuckle, and then looked at Grindaull directly in his evil and sadistic red eyes.
“You’re going to lose.”
Grindaull’s face remained unchanged. He was not amused or shaken.
“Is that so, Mr. Knight?”
“Yes,” Jacob continued, “It doesn’t matter if you caught me. We got Zane ou
t, and he’s going to kill you!” Jacob laughed and laughed. He laughed hard and loud…until he realized that Grindaull was laughing with him.
“…What’s so funny?” asked Jacob, now robbed of his dying joy.
“You,” laughed Grindaull. “You underappreciate yourself Mr. Knight.” He moved in close to Jacob again, digging his black nails into Jacob’s jaw and cheeks. “Let Zane escape—let him run to the Brotherhood. When the time comes, I’ll kill the little brat along with every one of those rebellious swine. But for now, my sight is set on a different set of targets.”
Jacob was trying to understand, but between the neural damage and his concussion, the king wasn’t making any sense. Why would he let Zane escape and join the Brotherhood? He knew as well as anyone, the power that Zane held. Grindaull had potentially let his own killer free, with the tools to get the job done.
“You see Mr. Knight,” continued Grindaull, looking at Jacob with appetite and amusement. “I expected war from the Brotherhood. The angelics will never let me control their precious AzzaNation without a fight. They will fight me until I pluck the feathers from the last corpse. You see…I understand why they resist, which is why I can tolerate their insolence…I cannot, however, tolerate a certain pack of selfish, mutinous liars.”
Jacob’s eyes widened in terror as he finally understood Grindaull’s plan. He squirmed and thrashed, trying with all his might to escape. He knew it was pointless, so he started banging his head against the wall behind him.
No no no no no, he thought. I can’t let him do it! I can’t let him use me to cause that much death and suffering.
But Grindaull was quick. He held Jacob’s head tight against the wall, forcing him to be still. Jacob still tried with all his might to struggle free, but it was no use under Grindaull’s powerful hold.
“They all must die!” said Grindaull, his smile stretching from ear to ear—his teeth shinning with glee. “And for me to give them the painful execution they deserve…I need your power Mr. Knight.”
Red energy engulfed the two men. Jacob cried as his skin and muscles tightened and began to drain of all blood. Snot and tears ran down his face. His body was withering to nothing, and all he could do was stare into the eyes of evil, as it happened. He let out one final agonizing scream before Grindaull drained him of his last drop of life.
CHAPTER TWELVE
W hat do you mean Grindaull wanted Jacob?” asked Diandra. Everyone was looking at Leo, waiting for him to clarify what he just said. The Egon saw him dawn this sudden realization, but he offered no explanation for his thoughts. All they knew for sure was that Jacob was missing and now, according to Zane, Grindaull was in the Fort. Diandra liked Leo, and thought that he was one of the most caring and intelligent people she had ever met, but they needed answers—not cryptic statements.
She got up close to him, hoping that her proximity would snap him out of the state of shock he was in. Unfortunately, he didn’t register her presence. He was miles away, in his own mind—his eyes misty, and letting the odd tear fall down his cheeks. Diandra wished she could help him process what he was feeling, but time was not on their side. She grabbed a hold of his shoulders and shook him roughly.
“Leo! Snap out of it! Tell us what you mean!”
His eyes shifted from his trance, and he finally looked at her with recognition. “I—I don’t know why or how, but I think Grindaull knew we would bring Jacob to rescue Zane.”
“Do you think someone from the Brotherhood tipped him off?” asked Zane, joining the conversation.
“Maybe,” replied Leo, wiping his eyes, he was slowly returning to his normal self—even if it was a more somber version. “But I seriously doubt it…The Brotherhood is a tight nit group that has been fighting together for years. Also, if Grindaull had a spy inside their organization, he would have raided their base already. It’s more likely that he outsmarted us.”
“Outsmarted us? But we rescued Zane—Why would he want that?” asked Diandra.
“I don’t know the why…” said Leo, shifting his eyes away from all of them. “…But my guess is that he saw the opportunity to use Zane as bait, so he could capture Jacob from us.”
“Why Jacob?” asked Zane, shifting his legs back and forth. Diandra figured the human didn’t like the idea of being used by Grindaull for any purpose.
“Why else?” said Leo, shaking his head. “To kill him and steal his ability.”
Diandra finally got hit with the wave of shock that Leo was struggling with. It now dawned on her, the full implications of Jacob’s capture. If Grindaull could add teleportation to his repertoire of abilities, then he could ambush anyone at any time, as long as he knew their location. And if he ever discovered the location of the Brotherhood’s base, he could teleport inside, past their defenses, and slaughter them easily.
“We need to leave,” said Ravez, who was the only one not feeling the implications of Jacob’s disappearance. At least not on the outside.
“What about Jacob?” asked Leo, frustrated. “We can’t just let Grindaull kill him.”
“I am afraid we have to,” replied Ravez, devoid of emotion, just stating a fact. “If what you say is true, then Jacob will be dead at any moment and Royal soldiers will be searching these woods for us. Correct me if I am wrong, but should not our priority be getting Zane to the Brotherhood?”
Diandra could tell that Leo wanted to argue. She wanted to herself—she never saw herself in a situation where she could justify leaving a friend to die…but here she was. The reality was evident. Jacob was going to die, and there was nothing they could do. If they tried to mount a rescue, they wouldn’t get past the main gate. Without the teleporter’s ability to get them inside the fort, they would be doomed. And then, they could all go to the Fifth together—dead or worse. It was truly a hopeless situation. Diandra looked to her allies, and saw that Leo and Zane also shared her sorrow. Their pain evident in their bodies and on their faces. No one wanted to leave Jacob…but they had to.
“We can mourn him later,” said Ravez, “I have a small boat waiting at the edge of the forest. We can take it down the Sorean Sea until we reach the Brotherhood’s base.”
“Good idea, love,” said Zane, grabbing Ravez’s hand and letting his partner lead the way through the woods.
Diandra and Leo followed after the two men, with Jynn taking flight and flying from tree to tree above the group. As they walked, Diandra could feel the speedster’s energy. He was furious, and scared and deeply, deeply sad.
“Are you going to be okay?” she asked, touching his arm gently. She now knew how easily he could get stuck inside his own head, and she wanted to help keep him with the group.
He looked at her, his tears dried up. She could see so much pain inside of him—so much deep rooted loss. He took a deep breath and let it out.
“It just seems like anyone I care about ends up dying,” he said, looking away from her and back to the ground beneath their moving feet. “I know Ravez is right,” he said more softly, so only Diandra could hear. “But I feel so guilty…”
“…I do too,” she replied, letting out a harsh breath. She had no words of comfort to offer him. If she had, she would share them with herself first. The truth was that she was just as lost and hurt by the loss of Jacob. She didn’t know what to say, and neither did he. So, the two of them walked in silence, taking what little comfort they could from each other’s company.
The hike through the woods took a couple hours. As they traveled, Ravez would stop to let the group take a break, and then he would double back to make sure that no one was following them. For all his faults and lack of empathy, Diandra did appreciate everything the horned man was doing for them. It was fortunate for the group that they had someone like him who could stay focused on the task at hand, instead of being swept up by emotions.
Soon, they could hear and smell the freshness of the sea. Diandra had only seen the Deastrian Sea before, which was usually covered in ice, due to its more northern climate
. Once they stepped through the trees, and saw the massive body of water that stretched as far as the eye could see, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. She was still grieving in her heart, but being able to feed off the Sorean Sea’s energy reminded her of the grand picture. The universe connected everyone and everything through its web of energy. Bodies were just temporary vessels anyway, and once we die, our souls—our energy, is poured back into the natural state of the universe. This thought gave her some new comfort, because even if the king killed Jacob, Grindaull could never take away, his energy.
Once they reached the shore, Ravez ducked into a small cave, and pulled out a very small wooden rowboat. Diandra smiled as she remembered vague memories of fishing with Navon in a boat, very similar to this one. Of course, that boat was only used on a small lake. She didn’t know how a boat like this could take four of them down the Sorean Sea.
“Ravez?” she asked, politely. “Are you sure this boat can handle the trip to the Hills of the Dead?”
As Ravez was taking off the camouflaged tarp he had used to hide the boat, he looked back to Diandra nonchalantly, “It will be a lot of work, but it is our best option.”
“If only Infinity motors weren’t so expensive,” said Leo, chiming in and helping to pack the boat with their few belongings.
“Infinity motors?” asked Diandra.
“The Infinity station in orbit sells things like motors,” said Leo, pointing above them to indicate the station that graced the sky with its ever-constant presence. It rotated slowly, giving off glints of silver and red lights. “But they charge an overwhelming amount for any of their merchandise, so average folks like us can’t afford it.”
“I see,” said Diandra. She never considered the idea that a whole race of people could hoard their resources like that. The Egons had always believed that in order for the community to be as strong as possible, everyone had to share what they had. The group was only as strong as the weakest among them.
The Chronicles of AzzaNation: Dawn of a New Age Page 20
