Forgotten Origins Trilogy - Box Set: Infected, Heritage, Descent

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Forgotten Origins Trilogy - Box Set: Infected, Heritage, Descent Page 64

by Tara Ellis


  Not sure how to answer, I silently watch as she skips back to her mom, who’s still staring openly at me from a distance. “Her dad is recovering,” she explains, not wanting to call him a Shiner in front of her daughter. “We’re very grateful for everything that you’ve done.”

  They disappear down another trail in between some vacant buildings just as fast as they appeared, and I’m left wondering about the exchange. When did I become loved instead of feared? This new insight is slow to sink in, and I’m still mulling it over as I enter the gym.

  My calm is short-lived as I hear the unmistakable sound of weights clanging against each other. Scowling, I walk past the gaping hole with green water at the bottom and make my way towards the weight room on the far side. I don’t normally bring a light with me, since I don’t need one, but there is now a warm glow casting shadows from its large windows that look out onto the pool area.

  Entering, my frown fades slightly when I see the back of Seth’s blonde head. He turns when I’m only a few feet away from him and jumps a bit in surprise. I can be very quiet when I want to be.

  “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that,” he says with a grin. His shirt is tossed over a nearby chair and he continues to curl the dumbbells as he talks. Sweat glistens off his well-defined muscles and I force myself to look away before I get too distracted, but not before he notices. My face burns as his grin widens and I busy myself with setting up the bench weights.

  “It’s part of my training program,” I answer, trying to ignore my embarrassment.

  “Really?” he asks, pausing in his work-out. “Maybe he should throw some socializing into your routine too, because none of us have seen you since you started coming out here last week.”

  Straddling the bench, I position my hands on the bar and then meet his steady gaze. I know he’s right. I’ve become even more withdrawn ever since Missy’s accident, but I don’t know how else to deal with it. Everyone else has managed to find ways to distract themselves from our reality.

  Mom and Zane announced their engagement a few days ago. I’m extremely happy for them of course, but as much as I’d like to be involved in the planning, it just feels so contrived. I understand that life must go on, but I’ve been facing so much death that it’s hard for me to feel much of anything. Letting my emotions out means exploring the good and the bad. The sound of crunching bones and the last gasp of life close to my ear overwhelms everything else.

  Blinking rapidly, I pull myself back from that dark precipice and re-focus on Seth’s face. I know several of us are suffering from Post Traumatic Stress, and I try to remember the breathing exercises the shrink taught me. Seth must recognize the fear, because his expression changes from mocking to concern.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, setting the weights down.

  “No,” I answer honestly. “I’m really not okay Seth. But neither are hundreds of thousands of other people, so in the scope of things, I’d say it doesn’t matter.”

  “I’m asking because it matters to me.”

  Needing to escape his penetrating stare, I lay back and begin pressing the two-hundred and some pounds. I’m not sure how to take his statement. It’s true that I’ve been avoiding pretty much everyone besides Missy and my little brother. I spend a few hours a day working with her and the one Physical Therapist we have, and the rest of my free time here. She’s made improvements but it will still be sometime before we know how much permanent damage there is. We’re hoping that she’ll be able to walk again someday, with assistance.

  Thinking about Missy brings on a new wave of emotion and I respond by lifting the bar even faster. I matter to him? I think to myself. What in the hell am I supposed to do with that?

  “So why did you lie to the professor about my dad being dead?” I can hear the clang of metal as he goes back to his workout and I appreciate the change of topic.

  “Professor Hassan was already a genius,” I explain, grunting in between the words, with each press. “If what he told us is true, then he’s probably now the smartest man to have ever existed. He could easily be manipulating us, so I didn’t think it would be a good idea for him to know that he has a potential accomplice here on the base with him.”

  “Huh, you’re getting pretty good at this war stuff,” he remarks, moving over to one of the many machines in the room. As far as I know, he hasn’t gone to see his dad. Seth made it clear early on that he wouldn’t have anything to do with him. Nassor recovered from the chest wound quickly, due to his Nephilim blood, and has been stewing in the jail ever since. Repeated attempts at interrogation haven’t produced anything useful.

  “I don’t think I’m good at it,” I correct him. “I’ve just seen the man at work. I know what he’s capable of, so I hope that he is on our side, because we really need him.” Done with my repetitions, I sit up and then lean against the bar. Facing the mirror-covered wall, I could have seen myself even without night-vision. Seth must have filled a bag with solar lights, because there are nearly a dozen of them scattered around the room, further convincing me that he’s claustrophobic.

  What’s reflected back at me is an image I’ve come to finally recognize as myself. The silver eyes and long, thick hair are now a part of who I am. There’s an edge to me though, that’s newer than the physical changes. A coldness that sometimes scares me. But if a little girl can look past it, then maybe I can, too.

  “How is the professor doing down there?” the question brings me back with a jolt and I focus on Seth’s reflection behind me.

  “It’s hard to know for sure,” I answer honestly. “Our own scientists have a tough time interpreting his work. But it does appear as if he’s working on a cure for the virus. We don’t have much of a choice, other than to trust him. I’m just glad that his presence near the Shiners works almost as well on them as when I’m down there. At least I can get a break from them.”

  “I don’t know how you can stand being in that dungeon with them.” Apparently done with his workout, Seth walks over to his shirt and pulls it over his head after taking a long drink of water. “We should bring Kyle here with us tomorrow. He needs to start strengthening if he wants to get off those crutches.”

  I’m about to agree with him, when I realize what he’s done. It appears that I now have a workout partner. Looking up as he nears me, I smile at him instead in response. There’s no point in fighting it. I have a feeling that Seth always gets what he wants.

  “You know that Chris needs to be with someone that he feels like he can protect.” The comment totally catches me off guard. He’s obviously referring to the relationship that’s been growing between Chris and Missy. At first, I thought that it was because Chris was the one to do CPR on her and so he felt a sort of connection. But as the days have spread out and their time together lengthened, I can’t deny that it’s something more. I don’t even know how I feel about it. Chris and I haven’t been close for months now and I want nothing more than for Missy to be happy. If Chris can do that, then I won’t try to stop it.

  “We’ve both changed,” I finally say, in answer to Seth. “Neither of us are the same person we were a year ago.”

  “Alex.” Seth has come to stand in front of me and I allow myself to be caught up in his intoxicating eyes, unsure of what it is he wants. “Chris has to feel like he’s in control, and he doesn’t know how else to be useful in a relationship. He doesn’t think you need anyone anymore,” he says, reaching out to cup my face in his hands. “But he’s wrong.” Leaning down, his lips find mine and then linger there just long enough to prove to me that my emotions are, in fact, still there.

  THIRTY SIX

  “Over here, Alex!” Turning towards the voice, I see that one of the section leaders has his hands full with two handcuffed Shiners. I immediately reach out with my mind and subdue them, and he waves a thank you before directing them to a waiting transport.

  We’ve been out rounding up the gathering Mudameere and Shiner troops for days now. They’ve gotten smar
t about it though, and have modified their attack strategy to make it harder for me to detect them in advance. Once I do, however, the rest is relatively easy. I’ve gotten very good at what I do best.

  Kyle, Seth and I worked out daily for over a week before I got clearance from the Doc to return to duty and report for our new mission orders.

  I was surprised at how nice Seth was to Kyle during his rehab. There’s always been a lack of love between the two of them. There wasn’t any hugging or anything, but the absence of constant insults or dirty looks is a huge improvement. I eventually came to enjoy my time with the two of them and I secretly appreciate Seth’s intrusiveness.

  I think that Kyle does, too. He and Chris haven’t been hanging out as much. Probably because Kyle has always liked Missy, even though she’s never responded much to his flirting. He thought she was, but that’s just how Missy is. He isn’t the first guy to misinterpret her behavior.

  At the end of each day, I waited for the ‘move’ I expected Seth to make. To either follow me back to my now-bachelor barracks, or allude to some sort of rendezvous. But it didn’t happen. By the time Benuk showed up at the remote gym to explain the next day’s plans for departure, I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed by the apparent lack of interest. Maybe the three-year difference in our age is too much for him. Or is he just trying to treat me with respect?

  “What’s the current status?”

  Blushing slightly and hoping that my lack of concentration isn’t obvious, I turn to Chris, while at the same time reaching out for Baxter. Nate is standing behind him, his red hair still managing to find a way out from under his combat helmet. There’s blood splattered on one of his arms, and I can’t help but compare the colors. Closing my eyes to both help me focus and to block out Chris’s cold stare, I open myself up. Other than the few Shiners already in containment, I don’t sense anything.

  “Nothing, Chris. I mean, sir.” I reply, opening my eyes. Catching what I believe to be a brief look of regret cross his dark, handsome features. It’s quickly replaced with a frown.

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” he says with frustration and I’m relieved that his displeasure isn’t with me. I realize though, that if I spent more time thinking about what was actually happening around me now, then I would have already come to the same conclusion.

  “You’re right,” I agree. “This isn’t typical. I know that the Shiners are smarter than us and have been close to outmaneuvering our deployments, but this almost seems like some sort of decoy. They’ve never engaged us before without a substantial number of Shiner troops. Where did the Intel on this assault come from?”

  We’re on the outskirts of a small, protected settlement high in the Rocky Mountains. They were attacked once before and suffered huge losses before ultimately winning, so when we got word of another pending battle, we were quick to respond.

  “Benuk figured it out, based on some intercepted messages,” he explains, distracted now by other officers looking to him for new orders.

  “Yeah, it was a coded HAM radio transmission that Jake found,” Nate offers. “But Benuk was able to understand it because they were using the Nephilim ancient language or something weird like that. He just sent me to come get you, Alex. He needs you over on the far NW flank. Found something interesting there, I guess.”

  “What is it?”

  Shrugging, Nate eyes the nearby rehab station where they’re handing out water and meals. “I dunno. He didn’t say.”

  Intrigued, I nod in response and head in the indicated direction while Nate runs for the food. Pausing, I decide to ask Chris if he wants to come with me, but he’s already turned away to speak with a Lieutenant.

  “Come on, Baxter,” I call to my furry friend. “Benuk needs us.” Cocking his head in response, he chuffs at me before obeying, just to make sure I know that he chooses to come. Smiling, I’m grateful that he’s so loyal. I don’t know what I’d do if he ever decided not to follow me.

  I’m still not sure what to think about him. I’m convinced that he’s a whole lot smarter then he lets on. I got some of those alphabet blocks from the school Missy’s mom works at. You know, the little blocks with letters on them. I’ve spent countless nights with them spread out on the floor, Baxter and I starting at each other over them. I ask him questions, and then direct him to spell out the answer. For whatever reason, he plays stupid.

  One morning, I woke up to find that he had already let himself out of the room. When I got out of bed, I stepped down painfully onto the letter A. Cursing, I hopped around for a minute, before realizing that it wasn’t the only one pulled out of the pile. Carefully arranged, facing the bed, was a complete sentence: The difference between stupidity and genius is that genius has its limits. Baxter always enjoys a good chuckle.

  Later that day, I asked Benuk where the quote was from. (He’s like a walking encyclopedia) “Albert Einstein,” he told me, a crooked smile on his face.

  Since then, random sayings would be created at some point during the night, including after Missy’s accident, when no one else was in the room. My all-time favorite was a quote from Stephen Hawking: Intelligence is the ability to adapt to change.

  I don’t know why Baxter won’t expose this side of himself, not even to me. But perhaps it’s not all that different than my own conflicted emotions over accepting myself. I decided to let it go, and support my friend, by letting him be seen by everyone as the dog that he appears to be. But I know the truth.

  Looking back to make sure he’s still behind me, I head into the trees. It takes several minutes of climbing through dense foliage, over rugged terrain, before I finally catch a glimpse of Benuk’s large frame. He’s standing on a rock in a sparse clearing, waiting for me. Waving me over, I take a moment first to appreciate the intoxicating smells of the wild flowers that have found an open patch of sunshine to flourish in. It’s almost May and spring has pushed back winter now even at these taller peaks.

  “Alex,” Benuk says impatiently when I stoop to sniff one of the blossoms. “I have discovered an item that you need to see.”

  There’s an urgency in his voice, so I stand up to look his way, my curiosity growing. His bright blue eyes dart behind me to check and make sure I came alone, before motioning again for me to follow him.

  He’s entered the woods by the time I join him and he goes another hundred feet or so in silence before finally stopping in front of a mound of large rocks. Fresh dirt lines the bottom of them, evidence that they were recently pulled out of the ground. The brown stains on his hands indicate that he’s the one who moved them. Before I can ask what it’s all about, Benuk leans forward and picks up a huge, leafy tree branch from behind the pile. What’s underneath it makes my breath catch.

  A large quartz stone, similar in size and shape to the one used to transport us at the Mountain Vortex is embedded in the rich soil. Other rocks still partially hide it, but enough of its surface has been revealed so that I can tell it’s the same type of technology. However, this one isn’t the same pink color, but a bright orange instead.

  “What in the world?” I ask in wonder, stepping closer to get a better look at it. As I lean awkwardly over the rubble at its base, Baxter starts to growl. It’s about the same time that I realize how unlikely it is that Benuk would just happen to stumble upon this randomly.

  Before I can react, Benuk grabs both of my wrists with his large, vice-like hands and yanks me forward. Already off-balance, I fall headfirst and as both of our hands connect with the crystal, a blinding light envelops us. A fiery pain shoots up my arms as our bodies are transported and I know beyond any doubt that when we reappear, it isn’t going to be Nator this time waiting to greet us.

  THIRTY SEVEN

  The light fades as a bright room coalesces around me, and I fight the swirling confusion, fear, and anger battling within me. The burning pain originating from my palms adds to the distraction, so that when I finally rematerialize, I’m an easy target.

  The two
sets of hands that grab at my arms are so large, that one easily covers my entire bicep. I’m lifted off my feet and although I immediately try to fight against it, there’s nothing I can do about the restraints being locked on my wrists, behind my back.

  My disadvantage is blatantly obvious, as there are two more gigantic Nephilim guards in front of me. So rather than flail helplessly, I decide to be dignified about my capture. Forcing myself to stand calmly, I spread my feet to help my balance and quickly try to gather my wits.

  I must be on the Nephilim ship Nibiru because I recognize the slight metallic smell in the air, from the first vision I had about it. We’re in a large, circular room with the orange crystal stone in the center. This one is much more elaborate than the smaller version in the woods and is three times as big, spanning a good four feet across and just as tall. There are intricate carvings around its edge that form a circle.

  Standing on the far side of it is Benuk, and my face flushes hot with humiliation when I see him. The level of betrayal by my cousin is horrifying and I hate to think of all the information that he’s been sharing with RA. My skin burns deeper when I realize how much of a charade my life has been for the past year. All of the loss, pain, and death. For nothing. It was so stupid of me to think that I or anyone else could actually outwit these advanced aliens. Tears threaten to spill but I reach deep to hold onto my hate and loathing instead. I’ll make him pay for this.

  Benuk must be able to see the conviction in my eyes, because although his expression remains neutral, he looks away. I follow his gaze, and see that the other two guards, dressed in plain grey tunics with wide, gold belts, are moving towards me. I try to avoid looking at their massive, nine-foot forms and focus instead on the smooth metallic walls behind them. It looks like the same unique material I remember from the genetic memories I had of the ship. I know now that the odd hieroglyphs covering its surface are part of the ancient Nephilim language.

 

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