by S. A. Beck
The Atlantis Ascent
Book 7 of the Atlantis Saga
S.A. Beck
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
The Atlantis Ascent: The Atlantis Saga
Copyright © 2018 by S.A. Beck
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.
www.sabeckbooks.com
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
About the Author
All Books by S.A. Beck
Excerpt from “Blood Magic”
Chapter 1
AUGUST 17, 2016, THE DESERT 30 MILES EAST OF TIMBUKTU, MALI
7:30 P.M.
* * *
It had all been going too fast for Jaxon Ares Anderson. As the sun grew red and swollen over the sand dunes to the west, she felt like she had been living these past few days forever.
She had been in a gunfight on the outskirts of Timbuktu, nearly lost her life more than once, saved her boyfriend from kidnapping, and had seen a good friend of hers die with her own eyes.
Brett Lawson was already supposed to have been dead. Her old classmate and partner in crime fighting had come back from supposedly being murdered in Los Angeles and tried to kill her with the speed and strength of an Atlantean. Instead he was the one who got killed, taken down in a hailstorm of bullets fired by her companions in the Atlantis Allegiance.
They had made it out of Timbuktu one step ahead of the law before she ditched them to go back and see the Atlantean community there.
And now she was in a car speeding across the Sahara Desert with a team of Atlanteans, or People of the Sea, as the locals called them, although the people with her were not locals. While they spoke English and came from several different countries, they all had the broad Asian faces, black skin, and sparkling blue eyes typical of her people. Those same features had set her apart for so long, but now she felt right at home. She had found a whole community of Atlanteans.
They called themselves the Atlantis Guard and said they were part of a global organization fighting to protect their people. The four of them came from various countries and were all in their late twenties.
She had told them to take her back to her friends. She felt bad about leaving them and knew they must be worried sick about her. The problem was, she had only a vague idea where they were, and since they were trying to avoid the cops, they sure hadn’t stayed put.
Had it only been a few months ago that she was a messed up kid flunking every subject at school and talking back to her foster parents? The chain of events that had brought her to this point were incredible. She’d discovered she was part of a hidden race from a lost continent, a race that a secret faction in the United States government wanted to use as guinea pigs. And now the Russians were after them too. She’d spent seventeen years being ignored and put down and now suddenly she was the center of all this attention, none of it good.
“Penny for your thoughts,” said the Atlantean sitting beside her. His name was Winston Chambers, from England. He had plucked her off the streets of Timbuktu and probably saved her from getting arrested.
He had also dropped the biggest bombshell of this entire trip—he had known her parents. They had lived in London, like Winston, and had fled because a criminal gang wanted to use their Atlantean powers for its own ends. Her mother and father had settled for a time in Portland, where Jaxon had been born, but the gangsters caught up with them. Jaxon had been given up for adoption at the last minute, just before her parents got killed.
And if she wasn’t careful, she’d join them.
“I was just thinking about all this mess and not knowing how to fix it,” Jaxon said, looking out at the brown expanse of the Sahara. No buildings or other vehicles were in sight. The only sign of civilization was the track on which they drove, cut into the sand by countless other trucks and cars that had passed before them.
Winston chuckled. “If only I knew how to fix all this myself.”
“Tell me more about my parents.”
“In time, we have a getaway to perform.”
“No, now. If I’ve learned one thing on this trip it’s that I can die at any time. I’m not going to die without finally finding out about my parents.”
He looked over at Trisha, an Atlantean from the United States who sat on the other side of Jaxon in the back seat. Two more Atlanteans sat in front. They hadn’t been introduced yet. There hadn’t been time. It seemed like there was never enough time.
Trisha nodded and Winston began to speak.
“As I mentioned to you in Timbuktu, your parents were Keepers of the Texts. Like the griots of the Sahara, they are the guardians of heritage and learning. Your mother and father knew some of the original knowledge of our lost continent. Not just anyone can become one of the Keepers of the Texts. I can’t, and no one else in this car can. It runs in the blood, passed from parents to children since the days of the sinking of Atlantis. You are the only one we know of, which is why we have been searching for you for so long. You are special. Besides the individual power each Atlantean enjoys, you have an additional power. You can sense the old places of learning and magic.”
“Yes, but what were they like?”
“Your parents? Scholarly, intelligent, kind.”
Jaxon laughed. “All the things I’m not.”
Trisha nudged her like she was a naughty younger sister. “Don’t shortchange yourself.”
“I’m dyslexic and get crap grades at school. I’m not very smart and I bite people’s heads off if they cross me.”
Winston shrugged. “Most of that is because you’re an orphan. I bet you went through a dozen foster homes with an endless parade of bad foster parents—disciplinarians, perverts, religious nuts. I’ve met them all. The British foster system is no better than the American foster system.”
“Try the orphanages in Peru,” the man at the wheel said. He spoke with an Hispanic accent. “I’m Mateo, by the way. Nobody here really likes me but they keep me around because I’m a great shot.”
“Um, happy to meet you, Mateo,” Jaxon said.
“Mateo has been through a lot. We all love him but you have to be patient with him,” Trisha said, then motioned to the woman in the passenger’s seat. “Elaine and I were lucky. We actually grew up with parents.”
Elaine laughed. When she spoke it was with a slow Southern drawl. “No, you’re the lucky one, New York City Girl. Any mutt can fit in in that place. Me, I grew up in Mississippi, which meant all the white folks assumed I was black and treated me accordingly.”
“Been there, done that,” Jaxon grumbled.
“We’ve all been through hell and high water,” Winston said. “But let’s not get bitter, shall we? I spent a few years doing that and it didn’t help. Besides, we have a mission to accomplish.”
Jaxon nodded and looked out the window again. “It’s going to
get dark soon. We need to find my friends or we’ll have to camp out here alone tonight.”
While Jaxon had felt an immediate sense of trust with these people, just like with the Atlantean community in Timbuktu, being separated from the Atlantis Allegiance left her with an ache in her heart. She hadn’t realized until now just how attached she had become to all of them.
“Time to break out the hardware,” Elaine said. “Mateo, find some place we can park without being seen by anyone passing by.”
Mateo got off the track they were driving on and soon found a series of low sand dunes. He wove the Land Rover between them until they got to a spot out of sight of the surrounding countryside.
Once Mateo parked, Elaine got out and opened up the back, humming a cheerful tune. Jaxon got out too, curious to see what she was up to. Already the scorching desert air had begun to lose its power. In less than an hour the sun would set and the temperature would plunge. There was nothing to hold in the heat in this empty land.
Elaine pulled out a small crate and opened it to reveal a drone set in Styrofoam packing. It was a little more than a foot in diameter and as the Southerner pulled it out, Jaxon could see a camera on the bottom.
“How in the world did you sneak that into the country?” Jaxon asked.
“Winston is a handy guy to have around.”
Jaxon remembered how he had hypnotized a policeman who had tried to arrest them back in Timbuktu and nodded. It must have been quite a sight to watch that mild-mannered Englishman pull that off at the airport security check.
Elaine set the drone on the ground, took out a remote control that had a small view screen on it, and flipped a switch.
The drone came to life. Like an oversized insect, it buzzed up into the air and was soon nothing more than a dot overhead. Elaine pushed a button and the screen came on, showing a remarkably clear picture of the surrounding desert. The Land Rover appeared as a little rectangle below with two dots next to it.
“Wave to the camera,” Elaine said with a grin. She turned a joystick and the camera panned around. Far off in one direction appeared a column of dust.
“That’s them!” Jaxon said.
“Nope. You said your folks only have two vehicles. See how thick and long that dust trail is? That’s half a dozen at least. Must be one of the patrols out looking for us. At least they’re not headed directly for us. They’re moving for that ridge to the west.”
“Think they’ve spotted something?”
“Perhaps. Let’s take a look.”
The view shifted as the drone rose and zipped to the west. The ridge came into clearer view. Beyond it, the sun sparked off two vehicles.
“Bingo,” Elaine said. “I don’t think your friends know they’re being followed. That ridge is high enough they might not see the dust trail.”
Jaxon tensed. “Can we get there in time?”
“We better.”
They leaped back in the car and Mateo slammed on the gas.
As the Land Rover tore through the desert, Mateo kept looking in the rearview mirror. The dust trail was clearly visible behind them, looming on the horizon like a storm cloud.
“They’re going to see us for sure,” Mateo said.
Jaxon shook her head. “It doesn’t matter as long as we get there first. We can head off together and once it’s dark they won’t be able to find us.”
Mateo’s reflection grinned at her. “Well, you’re cool under pressure. Remind me to teach you how to shoot.”
“I’m not really into guns. My boyfriend is a big gun nut, though.”
Mateo looked a bit disappointed at the mention of a boyfriend. Jaxon snorted. Guys were always guys, even if they were Atlanteans.
“Look, another dust column to the south,” Trisha said. “They’re really after us.”
“It’s my fault,” Jaxon admitted. “I spoke with Salif, one of our people in Timbuktu, and he said the cops are asking the community all sorts of questions about me and my friends. We got in a gunfight with the Russian agents a couple of days ago and left a bunch of them dead. An … American got killed too.”
Jaxon paused. Should she tell them about Brett, how her friend had been turned into some human-Atlantean hybrid by General Meade’s secret faction in the U.S. government? So many facts and plots were buzzing around in her head she didn’t know how to think straight.
Mateo banged his fist against the steering wheel. “It’s always the same. The first sign of trouble and they blame our people.”
“Look at it from the cops’ perspective,” Trisha said. “All they see is two groups of foreigners shooting up their town and one of the groups has an Atlantean along. Of course they’re going to be suspicious of us.”
“You’re always making excuses for them,” Mateo griped. Jaxon got the impression that when he said “them”, he meant normal humans.
“Let’s just get back to my friends. They’ll be worried sick about me,” Jaxon said.
The driver caught her eye in the rearview mirror. “You’re better off without their kind.”
Jaxon bit her lip. Yes, he definitely meant regular humans.
Nevertheless, he handled the Land Rover like an expert, careening between sand dunes and speeding across the flat portions. The ridge loomed ahead, a gully offering an obvious way through. They could see the two dust columns converging on them, one behind and one to their left. The cops were gaining on them.
Jaxon rolled down the window.
“What are you doing?” Winston asked as she clambered over him.
“Getting on the roof. If I know Grunt, he’ll have set up an ambush in that gully. We don’t want to get shot by our own side.”
Winston grabbed her ankle as she got halfway out of the window. “Wait! It’s too dangerous!”
“It’s only dangerous if you make me fall. Hands off!” Jaxon gave him a kick, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to show she meant business. The Englishman let go.
Wind and sand blew in her face, nearly blinding her. Luckily the Land Rover had a heavy-duty luggage rack on top that gave her something sturdy to hang on to.
She needed it. The gully was rough with stones that had eroded down from the slopes on either side. Suddenly she found herself bucking and jumping like some cowgirl breaking a stallion. An especially big rock made the Land Rover leap into the air, only to come down with a jarring crash. Jaxon did a face plant against the roof and almost lost her grip.
Still she clung on, blinking blood out of her eyes. A shadow out of the corner of her eye made her look up the side of the gully. Sure enough there knelt Grunt, rifle in hand, staring down at her in astonishment. Then he looked past her and spotted the dust column kicked up by the pursuit vehicles.
Jaxon didn’t see any more after that. The way got even rougher and it was all she could do to hang on. Mateo slowed down but the ride still gave her several more bruises and nearly threw her off more than once.
Finally, the Land Rover broke free to the other side. The two Land Rovers of the Atlantis Allegiance stood parked half a kilometer away. Grunt came down the near slope and started sprinting for them.
Now that she had a smooth ride once again, Jaxon could shift position and stick her head back in the window.
“Get back in here!” one of the Atlanteans shouted. She wasn’t sure which one. Maybe it had been all of them.
“Go over and pick him up!” she shouted to Mateo.
The Peruvian grumbled something she couldn’t hear, the wind whipping the words away, but he did as she told him.
Grunt took the hint, slung his rifle on his back, and angled toward the Land Rover.
“Slow down!” Jaxon shouted to Mateo. “You’re going too fast!”
Mateo had only slowed down to about thirty miles an hour. That turned out not to be too fast for Grunt. He leaped into the air and grabbed the luggage rack. The pull of the vehicle made his body go horizontal, but he used that to his advantage and swung himself onto the top. Within a second he was securely
braced and Mateo picked up speed.
“Nicely done,” Jaxon said.
“Since when do you ride on the outside of cars?” the mercenary asked.
“Since half the Timbuktu police force got on our tail.”
“Oh great, another typical day.” Grunt peered through the windshield. Elaine waved at him. Mateo frowned.
“Atlanteans? These guys don’t look local, though.”
“No time to explain,” Jaxon said. “We need to get out of here first.”
Mateo screeched to a halt next to the two Land Rovers of the Atlantis Allegiance, enveloping Jaxon’s friends in a cloud of sand. Jaxon and Grunt jumped off and hurried over to them.
“These are some Atlanteans here to help,” Jaxon said. “The cops are about to come through that gully. Time to leave.”
Dr. Yamazaki peered at the newcomers. “Are they from the same group that healed me?”
“Yes,” Jaxon said, looking over her shoulder. A cloud of dust was just appearing in the gully. “Let’s go.”
They all hopped into the vehicles and peeled off across the desert. While they still had a lead on the police, their vehicles were no faster, and the cops tailed them until darkness ended the chase. At last the Atlantis Allegiance and the Atlantis Guard made camp in a quiet area of sand dunes. Jaxon had no doubt the pursuit would resume the next day.
Chapter 2
AUGUST 17, 2016, THE DESERT 45 MILES NORTHEAST OF TIMBUKTU, MALI
11:00 P.M.
* * *
They didn’t dare light a fire that night, so they ate a cold dinner under the starlight. Like always, the desert night sky was clear and brilliant with stars. The Milky Way arched overhead, billions of distant suns creating a band of illumination. Closer stars stood out as bright pinpricks of light. Jaxon found herself staring up at them, thinking how peaceful it all seemed.
