Sons of Chaos

by Jerry Hart

  Whether D could work well enough to help the Titans fight monsters remained to be seen.

  Chapter 9. The Brothers’ Tragedy

  The house was surrounded, and Michael was scared. At fifteen, he shouldn’t be afraid of anything. But he was, because there were people outside who wanted to hurt him and his brother. Michael didn’t understand why, though. He knew the people were afraid of him, but he never did anything to warrant that fear.

  “They’re not evil!” his foster dad screamed to the mob from the living-room window. “Leave us alone! They’re not his sons!”

  Michael, who was sitting on the couch with his foster mom, Diane, dropped his jaw and looked over to Jason, who was sitting on a recliner across from them. His expression was strange—Michael couldn’t put words to it.

  His older brother’s face was contorted, as if in pain, but Michael knew it was not pain. It looked more like rage.

  “I knew this was going to happen,” Jason said so quietly only Michael heard.

  “Jonathan,” Diane said to her husband, “what are we going to do?”

  He spun away from the window and looked at his wife with terrified eyes. “I don’t know. We can’t stay here; not after what happened.”

  Diane looked at her foster sons with quick snaps of the neck. “They can’t possibly be his, can they?”

  Jonathan didn’t answer right away. He was too busy thinking of the possibilities; Michael could see it in his eyes. He stepped away from the window for a moment and Michael saw the enraged mob outside. Instead of pitchforks and torches, they carried flashlights and guns. The sun was going down and the beams from the flashlights were cutting wildly through the air.

  Jason and Michael caught each other’s eyes and came to the same understanding: They were being punished for their father’s actions. His attempt at ruling the world had failed and, somehow, everyone had found out his offspring were here.

  Michael didn’t know where his dad was now, but he desperately wished he was here to protect them.

  Just then, he remembered telling his friend Christian all about how his father was planning something special for the world. He had gloated to Christian at school that his father was magic and could do anything he wanted. Of course, Christian hadn’t believed him at the time, and Michael had forgotten he’d said anything at all.

  But then the Event occurred. A short while ago, a giant monstrous man had wandered around, destroying buildings and causing panic with hideous creatures following in his wake. Michael had seen it on the news and had known from that very moment the man was his father. It had to have been. Those orange eyes, the same as Dad’s....

  Christian had sold Michael and Jason out. There couldn’t be any other explanation. And now there were people outside who wanted the boys dead.

  The giant monster-man had disappeared shortly after beginning his invasion, along with his monstrous companions, so not much damage had been caused. But Christian was smart enough to put two and two together. He must’ve told someone, and then that person told someone else, and so on and so forth.

  Of course, there was that other thing Michael had shown Christian. But that had been an accident, and it had happened so quickly there was no way Christian could have even noticed.

  And now everyone was outside the house, waiting for the perfect time to strike. They must have thought the young boys had magic powers, too. Michael and Jason had done nothing to fuel this assumption, and Michael couldn’t help but be thankful for it. It may be the only thing that saved them.

  But then, the window at which his foster dad had stood moments before shattered as a large rock sailed into the living room. And then the screaming began.

  * * *

  Michael started awake on Les’s bed. Les, who was asleep on the floor, was snoring noisily, but that wasn’t what had awoken him. Not by a long shot. Nothing could compare to that horrible nightmare, that memory....

  He heard a tapping at the window. It was early and the sun was slowly starting to rise. Michael saw the shadow of someone on the blinds; he already knew who it was.

  Lifting the blinds, he saw a blond man, with short-cropped hair, standing just outside, a smile on his face. He was wearing a white polo shirt and tan khakis. Michael opened the window.

  “Morning, beautiful,” said the blond man.

  “Morning, Jason.”

  “I see you’ve made a new friend,” said Jason, eyeing Les, who was still asleep on the floor. Michael said nothing. “Did he give you the orb?”

  Michael nodded.

  “Good. That wasn’t very nice of you, leaving the hotel like that. I was worried about you, little brother.”

  “I just wanted to get out for a while.”

  “Is that the real reason? Or were you trying to get out of doing what needs to be done?”

  Michael knew Jason was no fool.

  “I know you’re scared,” Jason continued, “but everything will be all right once it’s all over. I promise. Do what has to be done, no matter the cost.”

  “Just like Dad used to say?”

  Jason smiled. “Exactly. You have a good memory; you were so young when he said it.” He patted Michael’s cheek. “Just like Dad used to say.”

  “We’re going to some public places to see if I can sense the one we’re looking for,” said Michael.

  “Whose idea was that?” Jason asked, looking impressed.

  “Mine,” Michael lied.

  “You’re so smart. I’m going to keep an eye on you guys, but you won’t be seeing much of me until it’s time. Take the orb wherever you go. Can you handle that?”

  Michael nodded again, but he seemed upset about something.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Jason asked.

  “I don’t know if I want to do this anymore. I don’t want to take over the world. It doesn’t seem so bad the way it is.”

  “The world is a flawed and dangerous place. If you look around you, it doesn’t take long to see it.”

  Michael still seemed hesitant. Jason sighed, and then cupped his little brother’s face in his hands.

  “You remember what those people did to our foster parents, to the people who truly loved us?”

  Michael nodded.

  “Tell me what they did to them,” Jason said.

  “They killed them.”

  “And why did they kill them?”

  “Because they don’t understand.”

  “Exactly,” Jason said. “They killed our foster parents because they didn’t understand. They thought you and I were monsters just because our dad was a monster.”

  Michael flinched at the accusation.

  “I don’t mean to be cruel, brother, but our dad did some monstrous things. But those...people showed us their true colors when they turned on us. Did they give us a chance to show what we were really like? Were they fair to us?”

  Michael shook his head.

  Jason took a breath and said, “What am I getting at, little brother?”

  “These people can’t be allowed to think for themselves,” said Michael. “They don’t deserve this world.”

  “Exactly, little brother,” Jason said. “This orb is a gift, and it would be a crime not to use it. All of this is happening for a reason. And soon it will all be over.”

  * * *

  It was nearly noon when Les finally awoke, and Michael was anxious to start his search for the one who could activate the orb.

  They started at the mall. Michael carried the orb around in one of Les’s backpacks. Les suggested they go to the food court and just let people pass them by. Nothing special happened, but David and Curtis walked by, not noticing them. Les heard them talking about a party they were having later that night—he wasn’t too surprised he wasn’t invited. Not after what happened at the last party he’d gone to. That damn racist joke....

  Les and Michael spent at least two hours there, but after striking out, they moved on to a bowling alley. They even bowled a few games, but Michael did not sen
se anything. (Les had made a joke about bowling with the orb, but Michael was not amused.)

  Next, they went to a place that wasn’t helpful, but Les really wanted to go there anyway. It was LAN Overboard, a small establishment he hadn’t visited in a while. The small building was made up of around thirty computers, all connected to one another. Les and Michael sat at two computers side-by-side and booted up a World War II shooter everyone else was playing.

  Since it was so early in the day, there weren’t that many people to play against. The proprietor was sitting at the front desk, reading a magazine; he’d already taken everyone’s money to play on his computers for a few hours, so he didn’t really care what they did.

  Since there were only four other guys there, they decided to play team deathmatch, splitting up into two teams of three guys. A nerdy sixteen-year-old boy joined Les and Michael. After thirty minutes, Michael had killed the other team ten times over, single-handedly. No matter what strategies they tried, they always got their butts handed to them.

  After a while, the other guys got frustrated and convinced Michael and Les to play just regular deathmatch—no teams.

  Michael killed everyone within a matter of minutes. He was an ace at sniping, and he even managed to sneak up on a few guys and slit their throats with a hunting knife. The other players had had enough. They got up and left before their time was up. The proprietor, a dirty-looking thirty-something guy, reminded them as they exited they couldn’t get the balance back if they left early. They didn’t care.

  After getting their money’s worth, Les and Michael also left and headed to the movies. They saw a horror film. The theater wasn’t particularly packed, so Michael didn’t really have his work cut out for him when it came to sensing anyone.

  After the movie, they headed back to Les’s house. Despite the fact Michael was a cold-blooded murderer, Les was actually having fun with him.

  It was ten after six in the evening and Michael and Les were playing a Hero Saga board game on the floor. Michael seemed a little frustrated with how the day had gone.

  “Are those all the places you can think of?” he asked Les.

  Les thought of David’s party, but decided not to mention it, so he nodded.

  “I talked to my brother this morning,” Michael said as he contemplated his next move in the game.

  Les didn’t respond; he didn’t know what to say.

  “He wasn’t too happy about the fact I left him hanging, but he’s forgiven me.”

  “Are you two still planning to take over the world?” Les finally asked casually.

  There was a moment’s pause, then Michael said, “Yes.”

  “With the orb?”

  “Yes.”

  “But how? I still don’t get how that thing even works.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “But the guy you’re looking for does?”

  “We’ve been over this,” said Michael with a hint of frustration.

  “I know. I just don’t get it. If you get a hold of this guy, is he just supposed to tell you? What if he doesn’t want you to know?”

  “I’ve been working on a way to get the information I need.”

  “The ‘sensing’ thing? Like how you knew about Curtis and me?”

  Michael grinned and said, “Something like that.”

  Les stared down at the board game and didn’t say another word.

  “What did happen between you and him anyway?” Michael asked.

  “You don’t know?”

  “No. I can’t tell specifically.”

  Les sat for a moment, thinking. “I went to one of his parties and I made this joke that, I guess, could be perceived as racist, though I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “What was the joke?”

  “To be honest, I can’t remember.”

  Michael nodded.

  “Do you mind if I ask you a question?” Les asked.

  “Not at all.”

  “What are you? I mean, I don’t think you’re human.”

  Michael thought about it for a moment, never taking his eyes off Les’s.

  “You really want to know?” he asked Les.

  Les nodded.

  “I’m the son of the devil.”

  “No way. Are you serious?”

  Michael nodded. Les was stunned. He remembered that comment he’d made to Michael about his father being the devil, but he’d only been joking.

  “Seriously,” Les whined; he was frustrated. “What is your story?”

  Michael stared at Les, contemplating whether or not to tell him everything. “Well, I guess it won’t hurt to tell you. It’s a sad story, though. I’ll start at the point that drove my brother and me to this moment.”

  * * *

  The rock crashed through the window and landed on the linoleum floor. Diane screamed as she jumped to her feet, pulling Michael along with her. Jason stood up as well.

  Jonathan ushered his family through the kitchen to the back door. Surprisingly, there was no one in the backyard. The family ran outside, onto the wet grass.

  “Take them and hide in the woods,” Jonathan said to his wife.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked, gripping her foster kids’ hands tightly.

  “I’m going to get rid of the mob.” Michael could tell his foster dad didn’t sound confident in his ability to do such a thing. Michael worried for him, wanted to tell him to come with them, that the mob would kill him if he tried to speak to them, but before the young man could say anything, Jonathan went back into the house.

  Diane was already racing to the woods behind their house. Michael was surprised to see not a single tear in her eyes. Her face was hard and determined. From the light of the moon, he could also see Jason’s face. He looked even more furious than he had in the living room.

  Jason had known this was coming; he’d said so himself.

  As the family squat in the dark trees, they waited and listened. Michael could faintly hear his foster dad’s voice as he tried to placate the angry townspeople.

  “What makes you think they’re his sons?” Jonathan asked them calmly.

  “One of Michael’s friends told us,” an old man shouted. Michael could tell he was old by his voice. “Says your boy was boasting about his father weeks before the attack. He also said your boy disappeared from one spot on the playground and appeared in another spot a second later.”

  Jason looked angrily at Michael. Christian had indeed noticed Michael’s “hiccup.”

  “And you believe this boy’s claim?” Jonathan asked. “Who is this boy who speaks against my sons?”

  “The boy’s identity doesn’t matter,” the old man declared. “And those two little bastards are not your sons. The sooner you accept that, the better. We don’t want to hurt you and your wife—we just want the boys. Give ’em to us.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” Michael could hear the confidence building in Jonathan’s voice. He truly did love his foster sons as if they were his own flesh and blood.

  But where is our real dad? Michael asked himself. How could he leave them in the care of strangers?

  “Last chance, Jon,” a woman said from the front of the house, her voice carrying even better than the old man’s. “Give up them chil’ren or there will be hell to pay.”

  “I have a thick wallet.” Michael almost laughed at his foster dad’s lame attempt at a joke, but the sound of Jonathan’s sudden screams made laughing impossible. Those people were attacking his foster dad.

  This terrible moment went on for a long time.

  Michael wasn’t sure how long he’d been hiding in the trees, but it had been long enough to make his knees hurt. His foster dad’s screams ended not long ago, and now the angry mob was rampaging through his house, looking for him and Jason.

  Diane was quietly sobbing over the possible death of her husband and Michael could see Jason also had tears in his eyes. But Jason did not sob. If Jonathan was indeed dead, then the eldest brother was now the ma
n of the family.

  Lights were flashing to life all around the house as the mob made its way from room to room, searching.

  “We can’t stay here,” Jason said. “We have to move.”

  Diane continued to stare at the house. She had stopped sobbing and was now blank-faced. Michael wondered if she was even with them anymore. Jason wiped the tears from his eyes and stared at his foster mother, waiting for her to say something, waiting for her to tell them everything would be okay.

  After a moment, Diane finally came to her senses and looked from the house to the boys. She placed her hands on their faces and stroked their cheeks.

  In that moment, Michael felt relieved. He barely remembered any other mother than Diane, and even after his real father’s revelation about the boys’ parentage, Michael had never stopped thinking of his foster mother as his real one.

  “You two have to hide in the woods,” she said quietly. “Go to that hiding place where you used to play as children. Remember?”

  Michael thought for a second, trying to remember. He and Jason had indeed played in a special cave in the woods behind their house, but they hadn’t been there in years. “How do you know about that place?” he asked.

  “A mother knows everything,” Diane said with a kind smile. “Now go, and go quietly.”

  “What are you going to do?” Jason asked.

  A sad smile replaced her kind one. “I’m going to lead those people in the wrong direction.”

  “No!” Jason nearly shouted. “It won’t work. They’ll just kill you like they killed Dad.”

  Diane’s kind smile returned and Michael thought it was because Jason referred to Jonathan as “Dad.”

  “No they won’t, baby.” She kissed Jason’s forehead, and then turned and did the same to Michael. “I’ll join you when I can. Stay in your hiding place until I get there. If I’m not there by morning, just run. Don’t return to the house.”