The Complete Atlantis Series, Books 1 - 5: Ascendant Saga

by Ellis, Brandon

  Rivkah backed up more. “This is a trick. A trap.”

  “No,” Bogle shook her head. “Well...maybe...”

  “Well, what the hell do you know?” Bogle was worthless. Rivkah continued to walk backward, her feet on the rock path that led to the forest. A forest of rainbow colors. Forests shouldn’t look like that.

  “She knows little, my child. She is scared and expresses her fear differently than you,” said a voice from the trees where Rivkah headed.

  Rivkah spun on her heels, fists up and ready to strike.

  A woman, blond hair, blue eyes, strolled out of the forest, her long gown dragging on the path. “You are to help us, Captain Rivkah Ravenwood.”

  Rivkah clinched her fists tighter. She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t come near me.”

  “The prophecies state you and two others will help us. One is the key. One is the bull. You are the whisperer.” She pointed to Bogle. “She is the calm to you three’s storm.”

  Rivkah rotated her back foot. She was ready to kick some ass. If she had to live her life fighting every day for the freedom she desired, so be it. She wasn’t going to fight for anyone else, especially not this woman before her. She spat on the ground. No more experiments. No more confusion. No more pain.

  “I am Liberty Speidel and we’re not here to harm you. You’ll fight with us at your own free will.”

  “Woman, you’re talking crazy.”

  Liberty continued forward.

  Rivkah stood fast.

  “I don’t speak crazily. I speak with purpose and with truth. I speak with the Light of the Law of One. I am Liberty.”

  Now a few feet from Rivkah, Rivkah jumped and directed a perfectly placed kick on this Liberty’s chest. Liberty caught it at the moment of impact and twisted, then bent on one knee and pushed upward with Rivkah’s foot. Rivkah fell hard on her back and rolled away, recovering quickly, and threw a right hook.

  In a flash, the woman moved out of the way, then extended her hand outward. “Enough.”

  A rush overcame Rivkah and a force rooted her to the ground. Her breath came hard and she energetically pushed the heaviness off her chest. Liberty’s power faltered. Rivkah dropped to her side, the wind knocked out of her. She clutched her stomach, gasping for breath.

  “Captain Rivkah Ravenwood, are you okay?” A hand grasped Rivkah’s shoulder, then let go. “Liberty, leave Rivkah alone.”

  Bogle stood between Liberty and Rivkah as a human shield.

  Liberty dipped her head at Rivkah. “That is why we need you. Your mix of humanity and Atlantean is stronger than mine. Yet you are untrained and unskilled, which makes your power useless.”

  Rivkah sat in a kneeling position, her breath coming slower, easier. “I’m not going to fight for you.”

  “We wouldn’t allow it unless you trained and trained well,” replied Liberty.

  “I’m not training.” She slowly stood. “I don’t know you, so why should I save you.”

  “Save us?” Liberty cracked a smile. “No one here needs saving. We only hope you unlock the key. When the key is unlocked, so are you and the two others.”

  “You can’t unlock a key, lady,” said Rivkah, rubbing her back. She glanced around to find a way of escape.

  “In this context, key means two things. Key is what unlocks the door and key is the vital component to what is coming to our city, the city you stand in, Flood of Dawn. You’ll unlock the key, so the key can unlock the door. It’s up to the three to open the door.”

  “The three?” God, the woman talks in riddles. The glass dome surrounding the city shimmered in a bluish-white haze. How the hell could she get out of here?

  “You may leave when you so choose. In the forest and under its canopy of trees is a space craft.” Liberty gestured toward the forest. “Captain Katherine Bogle, you may join her.”

  Rivkah shot a look at Bogle, then walked past Liberty without a second glance.

  “Wait up,” said Bogle.

  Rivkah rolled her eyes.

  They walked around a downed branch near a tree a creature was crawling down. The creature moved like a caterpillar, though looked like a koala bear with a long, black and yellow ringed tail. Rivkah ignored it.

  They came around a bend on the slated path and to a clearing where a wide transport craft sat waiting. Rivkah walked under its belly, touching the sleek body.

  Pftcheeeee!

  Rivkah and Bogle stepped back as a ramp descended from the middle of the craft, then shook as it touched the ground.

  Rivkah shrugged. “It can’t be that easy.” Nothing in life was that easy.

  Bogle crossed her arms at her stomach, holding herself tight. “Shall we go up there?”

  Rivkah put a hand out. “Do you think these people would kill us? Or try to cause us harm in any way?” It was an honest question and all Rivkah wanted to see was Bogle’s reaction. It would tell her everything.

  Bogle sniffed, shaking her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “I see.” Rivkah moved up the ramp into a cockpit not much different than the Bulg transport ships she’d flown in the past. In fact, she wondered who stole who’s technology.

  These cockpits were large, held several seats, and a holographic control panel.

  Bvvvvvvv! Shhcah!

  Rivkah and Bogle looked over their shoulders. The ramp had closed.

  Rivkah pursed her lips and placed her hands on her hips. “That’s my cue to get out of town.”

  Bogle came around the co-pilot chair. “I’ll take a seat.”

  Rivkah sat and observed the flight console, taking in what looked familiar and what she would have to learn on the fly. She fingered her collar and gave a quick glance at Bogle. “Sit. Jump. Fart. I don’t care. Do what you want. I’m no longer captain of anybody.” She swallowed hard. “But myself.”

  The craft lifted and Bogle fell into her seat. “Why did you do that?” she asked, and before Rivkah could answer, their seat restraints automatically wrapped around them, practically suctioning them to their chair.

  The craft ascended and broke through the sparse forest canopy. It hovered in place. The domed city was like a framed picture. A massive lake was set in the distance, several rivers flowed to it, along with boats that traversed along the lake and rivers. A white temple stood behind the lake, a landing pad next to it where several crafts were parked. And tree forts everywhere?

  These people are nuts.

  Rivkah grasped the control stick, then pushed the holographic throttle. The craft didn’t move. She swatted the control stick and leaned back, hands behind her neck, biting on every nasty word she could come up with.

  “What do—”

  “Not a word.” Rivkah put a finger up, cutting Bogle off. Another race, yet the same results. She had no control of anything, especially her own life. Her dad would be laughing in his grave. Cole was right. She had daddy issues. She had a hydrogen bomb full of daddy issues.

  The craft buffeted and turned. A door opened on the glass-like dome. The craft shot forward and through the dome then dipped and hugged the barren, dry land, and headed toward a mountain range.

  It flew fast and ascended up the mountain cliffs, finally rising over the lip of a mountain where a group of pyramids came into view. Their golden apexes glowed, sending electric, lightening-like energy to a large obelisk.

  Rivkah gripped the chair’s armrests.

  “Let me talk,” said Bogle.

  Rivkah shook her head no.

  The transport veered, descending low on the wide expanse before them. It flew over a thin creek and small shrubs. Ice crystals topped spindly trees’ branches.

  The craft banked and bucked into a wide, horizontal arc, mere inches from a hill. Over the hill, a statue came into view.

  “Princess Leia,” said Bogle. “That’s what the crew on Star Warden had called it.”

  The statue’s head gear glowed and off in the expanse, large turrets moved, aimed, pulled back, then fired electric bolt shots to the eas
t, one after another, never stopping, never relenting.

  Clouds of rock and debris puffed outward into massive clouds miles away from each continuous bolt impact. From Rivkah’s point of view, Liberty’s people were causing a smoke screen to most likely hold back a ground invasion.

  Bogle pointed. “They’re holding off an attack.”

  Rivkah leaned forward, her curiosity overtaking her stoicism. “Perhaps, or they’re pounding an attack.”

  She touched the joystick and pulled it back. Again, the craft continued on its own trajectory, ignoring Rivkah’s efforts.

  Their craft flew at the long, clouded vista that spread the entirety of the horizon. The bolts slammed into the ground and whatever was being masked behind it, they’d see soon enough.

  29

  Unknown

  Jaxx’s eyes were closed. A warm drop of water landed on his forehead and between his eyebrows. The next drop was cold. He batted it away. Another drop; warm. He wiped his forehead and opened his eyes, seeing another drop falling from a white, translucent ceiling.

  It landed between his eyes. He sat and rubbed the back of his head.

  He yawned. Running his hands back and forth on his pants, Jaxx did his best to wake himself and get his bearings. He was in a dome with grass as the floor. Another man, his size, was lying on a crystal-like bed next to him.

  Jaxx stood. His bed vanished and he jerked away. “Whoa!” Bending down, he inspected the area where his bed once was. He poked a hand through it and felt nothing but air. “Strange.”

  Folding his arms against his chest, Jaxx eyed the wide, glowing wall. The ceiling was two stories high at the apex, and the dome’s width no bigger than a medium-sized yurt.

  No exit.

  How the hell did he get in here? The last thing he remembered was someone telling him they were taking over the controls of his Air Wing. Then nothing. Blackness. Sleep.

  He stroked the back of his neck. The Air Wing. The frequency code. The Vesica Pisces; the bridge portal—the vortex. He smiled. The escape. His smile widened. It worked. His theory worked and it allowed him to escape.

  He jumped, throwing a fist in the air. “Suck it. Yeah, I’m talking to you. I want every archaeologist that ever doubted me to suck. On. It. Or, to rephrase it better, everyone.” Not that this proved anything or that his theories were bullet proof and one-million percent correct. It’s just that his most recent idea came to fruition in a matter of seconds and worked shortly thereafter.

  But, where was he? On Callisto? If so, a civilization of advanced Beings obviously lived on this moon and built the dome he was in.

  He ran his hand down a wall. “Crystal?”

  Callisto’s inhabitants had the ability to create crystals and build with them. Scientists on Earth could make crystals, but nothing on this scale or thickness.

  He paced around the room, checking every nook and cranny for a button or a lever that would open a door. They’d placed him in here, which meant there was a way inside. So there had to be a way out.

  “Hello?” Jaxx’s voice echoed off the walls. “Anyone here?”

  “Help me,” came a whisper.

  Jaxx froze.

  A cough pierced the air. “He-lp m-me.”

  It was the man in the other bed.

  His lips moved. “He-hello?”

  Jaxx cautiously made his way to him. He placed his hand on the guy’s shoulder. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

  The guy’s face was streaked with blood, though the man looked mighty familiar. It couldn’t be. There was no way.

  The man’s eyes opened. “Jaxx?”

  “Shit, no. Fox?” Jaxx backed away from the injured captain and his bloodied cot. “How did you get here?”

  “Jaxx,” Fox growled. He grasped Jaxx’s wrist with a strong hand, squeezing it like a vice grip.

  Jaxx tried to pull away, yanking as hard as he could. The guy didn’t bat an eye.

  On the other side of Fox’s bed, a striated-ebb nebula titanium exo-suit lay crumpled on the floor.

  In the launch bay before Jaxx escaped Starship Atlantis, Jaxx saw a soldier in an exo-suit. The guy walked as if he was injured. Now it made sense. Fox, who was injured from a gunshot wound in his stomach, occupied that exo-suit.

  And here he was, now with Jaxx, and Fox had him dead to rights.

  30

  Charlotte, North Carolina ~ Earth

  Camila reached for them. Or, in truth, reached for her daughter. Her eyes escaped Drew’s, and for good reason, her daughter was the love of her life, and Drew may have just led Camila to the end of her own.

  Blood soaked through the lower back of Camila’s shirt, a trail of red streaked behind her, and caked the floor as she pulled herself forward. No doubt she’d been shot and probably in the stomach, but how many times?

  Why would that matter?

  Drew’s mom abruptly appeared. She stood over Camila. “Get up, Drew. Pull her to safety.”

  His mom disappeared when more sounds of shattering glass and machine guns penetrated every cell of Drew’s body. He pulled Mya closer, the thud of bullets sinking and punching through car doors, car hoods, and trunks, and embedding in walls and column beams.

  The bullets kept coming. No one cared that they were innocent bystanders, yet the focus of fire power was on them. Or so it seemed.

  Get Camila! Snap out of it, Drew. Push forward!

  He reached for her, the blare of guns, cannons, and a child’s scream nearly deafening him.

  A child’s scream? He looked down, everything was in slow motion. Mya was in his lap, arms out, tears falling down her cheeks. She screamed for her mama.

  A bullet whizzed by, sucking into the wall. Camila gasped for breath.

  Drew butted up against the steel column, then placed Mya on the floor. “Stay here, I’m getting your mom. Stay. Here.”

  There was no way Mya heard anything over this commotion, but he had to get her mom. He had to.

  He crawled forward. Bullets ricocheted off the concrete floor. He glanced between the car and the steel column to the outside. Foreign soldiers rushed around, thin-looking jeeps with a gunner on top were blasting everything in view. In front of him was shattered glass and it was everywhere. US Marines were inside his dealership—no, his friend’s dealership. They returned fire, using anything and everything they could for cover.

  Something brushed Drew’s finger. A bullet. His stomach fell and he looked at his hand, sure to see blood and a missing finger or two.

  He exhaled. No blood and all five digits were intact. What had touched him? Out of the corner of his eye was Mya.

  She had rushed to her mother’s side, more courageous than Drew could ever be. She didn’t care about guns. She cared about Camila, her mom—everything she loved.

  Mya bent down, crying and shaking Camila, screaming something Camila couldn’t hear because she was gone, the glossiness in her eyes had turned to stone. “Momma, Momma.”

  The gun fire shifted, and moved to another building.

  The Marines had checked out, moving like dust in the wind. They were here for a moment and when the winds picked up, it carried them away far enough for Drew to hear a young girl’s sorrow punch him in his gut.

  He had brought this young girl to see her mother’s last breath.

  Drew stepped over a dead Marine, ignored the gnarly mess that had once been a face, and crossed to Mya.

  War. Fighting. Killing. Why? Why any of it? To Drew, it was stupid. Over what? You ask children to be like adults and talk it out, share, and be kind, while adults act like children. No worse. Adults act like adults, killing what they want, who they want, and when they want.

  He slid next to Mya who held her mother. “Come on, Mommy. Please. Mommy. Get up.”

  Drew couldn’t explain. There were no words. At least Mya hadn’t gone looking for her brother. That would have finished them both. He hadn’t heard the baby cry since the roof had fallen in. Didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out what had happen
ed to him. He picked Mya up and held her tightly. She kicked and punched, yelling for her mother, never taking her eyes off her as Drew rounded the hybrid car with the key in hand.

  “Oh, no.” The tires were flat, the doors were littered with holes, and the engine probably had a dozen bullets lodged inside.

  Mya kicked him again and again. “Let me go.”

  Drew dropped the key and repositioned the eight-year in his arms and ran to the black box. He opened it and surveyed the showroom floor. The SUV and the Jeep were shot to hell. The pickup was on its side. The two-door sedan was a hot mess. Yet, the one in the corner, the one hidden from windows and parked back toward the deeper offices, was a four-door sedan and not shot to shit.

  He foraged through the keys. A small hand slapped him hard, then squeezed and scratched his nose.

  He wanted to tell Mya to stop, to go to her room, time-out, no snack before dinner. Instead, he raced across the showroom, blocking more little girl slaps, and pressed the unlock button on the key. He plopped her down in the passenger seat and strapped the seat belt around her. He avoided a quick kick to the face.

  “Where's Mommy? Let me fix my mommy. Don’t...touch. Help, help.” Mya reached out for her, tears streaking her face, her lips quivering. “Mommy. Mommy.”

  Drew slammed the door shut and ran around to the other side. He pulled himself onto the driver’s seat. “I’m so sorry, Mya. Your mom will be back with us soon.” He started the car. “She just wants me to take you to your daddy, right now.” He lied and it didn’t work. Mya wouldn’t calm.

  A cannon fired and the building shook. More of the ceiling collapsed in front of them, white drywall and plaster tumbled onto the car’s hood, wood joists plummeted to the ground in front of them, bouncing off the floor. His escape was now blocked.

  He looked over his shoulder. More glass doors. Perfect.

  He put the car in reverse and placed his foot on the pedal. The car shuddered as it hit a desk. He stepped his foot harder on the gas and drove the car through the glass doors. They shattered into a thousand pieces, the grind of concrete against the bottom of the car caused the vehicle to bob up and down the outside steps, until it leveled onto the street.