…
They descended the serpentine road to the base of the hill. The Bastion hovered in the distant haze, like the city’s moon. Callista held on to Morgan by the slack in his jacket as the motorcycle headed toward the skyscrapers at the bottom of New Mountain.
“How do you know where your dad will be?” Morgan shouted over the wind.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I just have this feeling he’s going to be where we found him last time.”
“What do you think this is about?”
“He’s lying to me. He never lies to me.”
“Parents lie. That’s just what they do.”
While the force of gravity and the motorcycle’s two-stroke engine conspired to take them down the hill, luxurious cable cars ran above them. The ride below the tree line gave them a different perspective, a very dissimilar view from those riding in the cars above.
From the motorcycle, Morgan and Callista could see the abandoned and boarded-up homes, many large and expensive. Residential streets and cul-de-sacs full of opulent homes appeared to be emptying. It seemed as though the larger and more luxurious the house, the more likely it was to have the doors and windows boarded and the lawns untouched. There seemed to be no one, no guards or security of any kind, left to watch the properties.
“It’s weird,” Morgan commented. “I always thought rich people were fighting for their spot on the hill. It looks like they’re all leaving.”
“I’ve noticed it with my neighborhood too,” said Callista. “The richest people on my block just up and moved two months ago. My dad has been acting weird ever since.”
They made it down to the base of New Mountain and eventually downtown, where the skyscrapers looked like the polished edges of scalpels and the streets were filled with walking suits. Morgan slowed the motorcycle down the block from Oceana Bank, where they had spotted Callista’s father before.
“What now?” Asked Morgan. “Is your father just supposed to appear or something?”
“Let’s go inside that bank building,” said Callista. “He was coming out of there before. And I don’t know why he would be there in the first place.”
Inside the lobby of the building, they met a rather stout and bald man behind a glass desk. The man had two armed guards in plain suits standing on each side. He asked what their business was.
“I’m trying to find my dad,” said Callista. “I think he’s here.”
The man stared at her and smiled slightly. “Does your dad have a name?” He asked.
While the security guard checked in the building computer, a chorus of male voices rang out from an opening elevator door. Callista recognized the characteristics of her father’s voice immediately.
In an act so quick that it seemed nearly preternatural, Callista grabbed Morgan by his right hand and pulled him toward the door. They both ran until they were outside and halfway down the block. She yanked him by the hand until they were hidden behind a concrete pole for one of the city’s Tsunami sirens.
Morgan told her, “We came all the way down here to see your dad. Now we’re hiding from him.”
“I want to know what he’s doing here. If I ask him, he’ll lie.”
From half a block away, they saw Callista’s father leave the bank behind a group of four men in suits. They all were in the middle of a laugh, except for Callista’s father. He looked like they could have been walking him down the plank. The man looked sad and perhaps a bit scared.
The four other men were significantly older than her father. One, the tallest and baldest of the group, took Callista’s dad by the shoulder and said something into his ear. The two other men broke out into a fit of laughter when they saw the sick look on Callista’s dad’s face. They seemed to be making fun of him.
“What’s going on here?” Callista whispered. “What are they doing to my dad? He looks upset.”
Just as Callista was hit with the idea to march over there and defend him, something happened that made her freeze before the first step.
In the middle of the busy sidewalk, her father got down on one knee and faced the men. He took on the posture of a beggar and lowered his head to the businessmen.
Callista wanted to yell, to scream at the men and her father, to slap all four of them across the face. Instead, she just stood there, staring at her father as he begged the men for something. Other people on the street noticed and stopped to watch.
The four businessmen laughed while he hung his head. Then, Callista’s father accepted the tallest man’s hand and kissed it on the palm. The act sent the other businessmen into an uproar of laughter.
Her father then pulled himself from the pavement, lowered his head and walked away.
While Callista and Morgan hid behind the concrete, he moved past them without noticing. His right hand was over his face, covering what was clearly shame.
Callista went pale and she could barely talk.
Morgan asked her, “Are you alright?”
“Um mmm,” she said, before adding, “No. I’m really not OK. No.”
Her father crossed the street and went to his car, sitting inside with his stare on his lap.
Across the street from him, the four businessmen watched as an unmarked eighteen-wheel truck pulled up in front of the bank. It was hauling perhaps ten more of the titanium boxes that Callista had seen in her attic.
“More of those things,” said Morgan. “What do you suppose could be in there?”
“There were two at my house,” she said. “I don’t know what they’re for. My dad wouldn’t tell me.”
…
Chapter 15
Look into our Eyes
While Lucas was getting ready for school the following morning, he noticed Strix’s feathers and eyes were blinking, flashing red like a silent fire alarm.
“What is it?” Lucas asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“We would like to accompany you to school today.”
“I’m not carrying around a toy all day. Surviving at that place is hard enough.”
“We realize bringing us along may result in complications,” Strix explained, “but this isn’t a matter for debate. We will accompany you today.”
“What am I, not safe or something?”
“That’s correct, Lucas. We’re afraid you are not safe.”
“What are you going to do against that psychopath, Nox?”
“We assure you, Lucas, it is imperative that we escort you to school.”
“Escort me? First Morgan, now you. I don’t need anyone to escort me anywhere.”
After a few minutes, Lucas relented and pushed Strix into his backpack. Only the very top of the owl’s eyes and ears poked through the top of the bag.
When he got downstairs, he found his mother sitting at the table. She appeared to be waiting for him, with breakfast made and six of her pills set out on a plate.
“Don’t forget your pills, Lukey,” She said. “I don’t want you to get sick and die.”
Usually, he would swallow the pills right in front of her. That day, however, he took the horse pills in his palm and headed out the door. Just as he put the first one in his mouth, Strix told him, “Spit it out now.”
“What…Again?”
“Do not swallow that pill, Lucas. Throw them all away.”
“I don’t understand,” he said. “My immune system won’t be able to fight off anything without this. I need it.”
“Throw them out, Lucas.”
“I’ll get sick. I need them.”
“You don’t,” said Strix. “We promise.”
Lucas looked at the pills in his hand and after a moment of consideration, dropped the handful into one of the seaweed bins on the street. Strix told him he did the right thing.
When he was halfway to school, he saw Morgan trying to catch up to him from down the block.
“So I have two bodyguards today?” Lucas shouted to him. “I’m going to be the safest person this side of the Bastion.”
Morgan noticed Strix’s face poking up from Lucas’s bag. “I don’t think that was the best idea,” he told him. “Nox and those guys at school are going to throw a fit when they see you bringing a stuffed animal.”
Strix spoke up. “We are not a stuffed animal,” he said. “We are not propped up by cotton balls and polyester. Our insides are composed of the most sophisticated microprocessors ever conceived by man, surpassing that of even the Old World.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Morgan. “Forgive me.” He told Lucas, “He looks exactly the same as mine. I guess they’re twins.”
“We’re more than that,” said Strix. “We are the same. We are connected.”
Nox and his cohorts were waiting by the school’s entrance, in a dark corner under the splash ceiling. His gaunt face became all eyes and sharp angles in the shadows. The eyes were perfectly still, as though Nox had been watching them from that spot for days. He lifted up his hand to wave, showing the self-carved pentagram tattoo sunk into his palm. The boy’s eyes seemed to be that of a man, a man filled with patience and rage.
“Lucas Mucus!” Nox shouted. “I had a dream about you last night! I dreamt I made you squeal like a pig!”
“Oh piss off!” Morgan yelled back. “We’re really not in the mood for your shit today, Nox!”
Nox and the other three boys ran over and met them at the doors. Nox said, “Big bad Morgan Battle has taken to giving out charity.” He stared at Lucas, saying, “And charity for this sick, little weakling. This doesn’t make any sense to me. What the hell is going on here?”
“Listen,” Morgan told Nox. “My dad will kill me if I get into another fight and get suspended again. I know your dad. I know it’ll be worse for you. Come on, man, just stop it.”
Nox became angered further. The left corner of his lip darted up and he looked like he was about to snarl. “Leave my old man out of this,” he said. “By the way, Morgan, how’s Brian?”
Morgan took a step toward him and in a low voice said, “I thought I told you never to mention my brother.”
“Oh, relax, Battle,” smiled Nox. “I like Brian. Always have. He never has anything to fear from me. When you and chunky here are dead, I’ll take him as my little brother.”
“Nox,” warned Morgan, “you’re about to take this to another level.”
One of the other boys noticed Strix in Lucas’s backpack. “Looky what we have here,” he said. “Lucas Mucus brought one of his toys to protect him.”
Nox seemed curious about Strix. He told Lucas, “Let me hold your toy there. I wonder if your owl is anatomically correct.”
“Go to hell,” said Lucas, meeting Nox’s stare.
The courageous act surprised not only Nox, but Morgan as well. They hadn’t expected that kind of spunk.
“I’m not giving you a damn thing,” Lucas went on. He took a step toward Nox. “If you want to murder me, stop talking about it, and murder me already. See if it works.”
“What’s gotten into you, fat boy?” Nox smiled. “I don’t think I like this new attitude.” Nox stopped for a moment. “You look different,” he went on, looking Lucas over. “Your tits aren’t as big but there’s something else…something’s different about you.”
Lucas just stared at him.
“Let me see that bird toy,” Nox said as his threatening smile turned perfectly blank. “Right now.”
Still staring him in the eye, Lucas tightened his grip on his backpack strap. Then he told Nox, “I’m prey no more.”
The bunch of boys suddenly rushed Lucas and two of them held Morgan back. Nox managed to wrestle Strix out of the backpack.
He held up the owl and looked at it while Lucas and Morgan tried to fight their way free.
“This isn’t a stuffed animal,” said Nox. “There’s electronics and stuff in there. What the hell is this thing?”
Strix’s eyes became bright red, beaming crimson over the entire scene. A hum started in his gears, like a jet turbine winding up. Nox, who grew only more curious with the light, held Strix up to his face.
“Hello, Nox,” said Strix. “We wish we could say it was a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“What the…” Nox started to ask. “How does it know my name?”
One of the other boys chimed in, saying, “That thing is neat. Let me see it.”
“Screw you,” Nox told his friend. “The little owl here is mine. He knows my name and everything.”
Strix told him, “Please look into our eyes, Nox. We have something we want to show you. Closer, please.”
Without warning, Strix’s eyes let out a flurry of white flashes like photo-strobes, so bright that everyone except Nox shut their eyes. The scintillation became more rapid, blasting Nox’s peeled eyes. He just stood there, transfixed like a wax figure, as Strix’s entire body signaled a dizzying spectrum of colors.
Nox looked flash-frozen, his eyes unblinking and mouth hung open. With his hands still out in front of him, he dropped Strix on the ground. The flashing ceased but Nox still wasn’t moving. He wasn’t blinking and he held his breath. His friends tried to shake him by the shoulders but nothing registered in Nox’s face.
“What did that thing do to him!” One of the boys shouted. He backed up from Strix like the owl was a coiled rattlesnake. Nox’s other friends were afraid too. They tried one more time to shake Nox out of the trance but it didn’t work.
Lucas picked Strix up from the ground and put him in his backpack. He and Morgan stared at Nox, who was still locked in the same position. Nox Jaborosa looked like the product of superb taxidermy.
“What did Strix do to him?” Morgan asked. “Some kind of trance?” He slapped Nox across the face and waited defensively for a swing back. Nothing came.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Lucas. “I don’t want to have to explain this to anyone.”
They both walked through the doors to the school, leaving Nox standing with his arms out. Just as they turned the corner, they took one last look back. Nox had fallen on the ground and his body was trembling.
“Should we go back?” Lucas asked. “He might need help.”
“Trust me,” said Morgan. “Don’t. I would go back for just about anyone on this planet except for Nox Jaborosa. The world would be a better, safer place without him.” He smiled and patted Lucas on the shoulder, telling him, “Nice job telling that bastard to go to hell. I think you needed that.”
…
That night, the waves rose over five hundred feet tall, smacking into the Bastion and shaking Morgan’s entire neighborhood. This hiss and rumble was so loud that his father had the volume on the television set all the way up.
Rockets and missiles, images of the distant war, lit up the TV screen.
Morgan was upstairs, sitting on the bed beside his brother. Brian couldn’t sleep with the sound of the surf, even with thick earplugs. The boy was also feverish that night and having trouble keeping food down. The sheets were salty and wet from his perspiration.
Morgan put a cold, wet rag on his head.
“Is the Bastion going to hold?” Brian asked him.
“Of course,” said Morgan with reassurance. “Nothing can bring the Bastion down. We’re perfectly safe.”
“I don’t remember it ever being so loud.”
“I know it’s bad,” Morgan admitted. “But we’re still safe. Before you were born, I remember a horrible storm. Waves nearly taller than the Bastion. A foot of water on the streets from the splashing. The noise made my whole head shake. I was only three but I still remember.”
They both noticed their father standing in the doorway. Killian’s eyelids were sinking and he had to lean in the door frame to stand. Apparently, he had taken a rather heavy dose of anxiety pills.
“I wish we were on the front lines of the war,” he said softly. “At least then I could get some peace and quiet.”
Morgan told him, “We need to take Brian to the doctor tomorrow if this fever doesn’t break.”
“T
omorrow’s my day off. I need rest,” his father said without emotion. “Looks like the kid will need to take a cab.”
“That’s fine. I’ll take him.”
“Why?” His father asked, smiling a little. “They don’t do anything except charge me money. The kid never gets any better.”
“He’s got a condition,” Morgan told him. “It needs to be managed.”
“Oh that’s right,” His father said with a collapsing smile. “His condition. The one that he inherited from his mother and supposedly me.”
Morgan rubbed Brian’s head and pushed his earplugs until they were deeper inside. He didn’t want his brother to hear any of it.
“Stop it,” Morgan told his father. “You know that’s crazy. I hate when you bring this up.”
“Crazy, huh? The boy has a problem that didn’t come from my genes. You know, a few months ago, management at the Bastion gave me one of those new genetic tests that the smart guys just figured out. Another thing lost from the Old World we’re just inventing again. Was supposed to be for insurance reasons. Did you know it takes two carriers of that Whispering-Keepers thing for it to transmit and I’m not one of them? Can you explain that?”
“He’s my brother and your son.”
Killian broke out into a twisted, intoxicated smile, saying, “Not anymore.” Then he held up and shook an empty prescription bottle. “Just swallowed my last four. Looks like I’m fresh out,” he said. “It should be enough to put me out tonight but how am I supposed to wake up tomorrow without my medicine? You know what it does to my mood.”
Morgan knew what he meant. It indicated his father wanted him to acquire said anxiety medication. The time of night and the gale outside weren’t factors for consideration. This had become a Battle family custom. His father needed the pills the moment the bottle ran dry.
“I’ll get it if you keep an eye on Brian while I’m gone.”
“I promise the kid won’t die while you’re out. Just make sure my pills are here when I wake up in the morning. Tomorrow’s my day off and I don’t want to spend it being tense and pissed off. And, believe me, you and your little brother damn sure don’t want that.”
Break the Bastion Page 12
