Rivkah, however, knew it didn’t matter. Their craft was heading right for the long, clouded vista in front of them that spread across the entirety of the horizon, the ion bolts still pounding the ground as if something beyond their reach was trying to get through.
21
Unknown
Jaxx’s eyes were closed. A drop of water landed on his forehead and between his eyebrows. The drop was warm. 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 up, rubbing the back of his head.
He yawned, running his hands back and forth on his pants, doing his best to wake himself up and get his bearings. He looked around. He was in a dome, nothing but these beds and grass beneath his feet. Another man, his size, was lying on a crystal-like bed next to him.
He stood, taking a look at his bed, wondering if he was sleeping on something similar to the guy next to him. Just as he turned, the bed vanished. He jumped back.
“Whoa!”
He glanced around. The dome was wide, the walls glowed like a full moon, the ceiling at least two stories high, the width the same.
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 became wider. It worked. His theory mother fucking worked and it allowed him to escape.
He jumped up, 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, one-million percent correct. It’s just that his most recent idea came to fruition in a matter of seconds and worked about an hour or so later.
But, where was he? On Callisto? If so, people obviously lived here and built this gorgeous dome he was in.
He ran his hand down the glowing wall. “Crystal?”
The holy-shit, Callisto’s inhabitants – if that’s where he was – had the ability to create crystals and build with them. Scientists back 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. He had been placed in here, which meant there had to be a way in and a way out.
“Hello?” he bellowed, his voice echoing against the walls. “Anyone here? Can you help me?”
“Help me,” came a whisper.
Jaxx froze, making sure not to make a noise. Where did that voice come from?
A cough pierced the air. “He-lp m-me.”
It was the man in the other bed.
His lips moved. “He-hello?” Yet, his voice was like a ghost, soft and creepy but loud enough to hear.
Jaxx strode over to him, placing his hand on the guy’s shoulder. “I’m here. You’re safe.”
The guy’s face was streaked with blood, though he looked mighty familiar. It couldn’t be. There was no way.
The man’s eyes opened, looking directly into Jaxx’s. “Jaxx?”
“Fuck, no.” Jaxx backed away from the injured man and his bloodied cot. “How the fuck did you get here?”
“Jaxx!” the man growled, grasping Jaxx’s wrist with a strong hand, squeezing like a vice grip.
Jaxx tried to pull away, yanking as hard as he could. The guy didn’t bat an eyelid.
On the other side of the man’s bed, a striated-ebb nebula titanium exo-suit lay crumpled on the floor.
Shit.
It was Fox.
And, for the first time in Jaxx’s life, Fox had him dead to rights.
22
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, caking 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 suddenly appeared, standing 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, stunning him. 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, it seemed to be.
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, wanting her mama. “I can help her. Let me go.”
A bullet whizzed by, sucking into the wall. Camila was gasping for breath.
He hugged 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 ricocheting off the concrete floor. He glanced between the car and the steel column to the outside. Foreign soldiers were rushing 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 – returning 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 deeply. No blood and all five digits were on his hand. He was fine. What had touched him?
Out of the corner of his eye he saw what it was, or rather, who it was. It was Mya.
She had rushed to her mother’s side, more courageous then 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.
Camila was dead.
“Momma, momma.” Mya’s voice rang out
The gun fire shifted, 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, they were carried 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 so fucking 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, when they want.
He slid next to Mya who was holding her mother, crying. “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 happened 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, key in hand.
“Shit.” 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 six-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 somehow 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 key. He plopped her down in the passenger seat, strapping the seat belt around her, avoiding a quick kick to the face.
“Where is 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, pulling 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 down.
Whapooh!
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, pushing it aside. He stepped his foot harder, driving the car through the glass doors, shattering them into a thousand pieces, the grind of concrete against the bottom of the car causing it to bob up and down the outside steps, until it finally leveled out onto the street.
Drew put it into drive and pushed on the gas, immediately pushing both feet on the break. The car skidded to a halt. A tank was twenty yards in front of him. He went to back up, but a throng of foreign soldiers were running at him from that direction. He glanced down at Mya. Her head was in her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.
He yanked the wheel, and floored it.
23
J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ East Rise, Callisto
Bogle read the vid screen in front of her. “Two minutes until impact. We apparently are entering East Rise, another city on Callisto.”
Rivkah shot her a look. Being given a play-by-play by an anxiety ridden co-pilot wasn’t her cup of tea. She felt like opening the bottom hatch and dropping Bogle through the vast cloud they were only two minutes from. And, “impact?” How do you impact a cloud? How did Bogle ever become a captain in the first place? She didn’t seem to have the stomach for adrenaline or chaos.
An ion bolt zoomed past them, slamming into the ground, continuing to churn up the dust cloud in front of them. Another and another whizzed by, blowing up more dirt, rock, and ice.
Rivkah pulled on the control stick again, wanting to get a bird’s eye view of what these thousands upon thousands of bolts slinging past them and erupting on the ground were for. Was something trying to get through, yet this shielding technique kept it at bay?
“One minute until impact,” said Bogle.
Rivkah wanted to rap her on the head. Instead, she remained silent, narrowing her eyes to what might be coming after the dust. The craft made a sharp incline and headed straight over the debris cloud.
Rivkah leaned forward, wanting to grasp the scales of the half human, half reptile Kelhoon below and fling them across the smoking hills in front of them. “Fucking fuck.”
The Kelhoon swarmed over the hillside, destroying everything in their path. As far as the eye could see, cities were engulfed in black, thick plumes of smoke. The Kelhoons must have hit these people quick and hard, an assault that the inhabitants of East Rise were utterly unprepared to fend off.
Thick, smoldering ashes billowed upward into the graying sky, then fell to the ground like snow. It was a blood bath. Dead Atlanteans, in golden armor, holding three prong trident spears, were sprinkled across the land. Others ran toward the north, blasting Kelhoon pursuers with laser-like beams shooting out of each trident prong.
Hundreds of children were being led to one of the many pyramids in East Rise, energy bracelet restraints on, tied together with an energy chain. A young girl, maybe ten or so, was in the back, a Kelhoon whipping her. A lash struck the girl in the face, and she fell to the ground, motionless.
Rivkah unstrapped herself from her chair and stood. She wanted to break every bone in that asshole’s body. A man harming a girl? The Kelhoon might as well be Rivkah’s father and she the girl in the back of the pack, getting whipped like a sick puppy, then lights out.
Rivkah grasped the control stick, then pressed several buttons on the holographic display console. She had to take over this ship, had to turn on weapons and blast that mother fucker where he stood. Hell, maybe they could rescue the children. She kicked the console, her foot going through the hologram. “How do you override this thing?”
Bogle held her hands over her mouth, shaking her head. “Why is Morning Star allowing this? Why is Liberty letting this happen? They aren’t helping the fight.”
“Because they are assholes, now – ”
A squad of angry Kelhoon Starfighter LL-class 4’s appeared over the lip of the hills and Rivkah held her breath. Yes, this Liberty character had led these two nitwits – Rivkah and Bogle – to slaughter and they had fallen for it.
“We call those starfighters, Leaping Lizards,” said Bogle, her words barely audible.
“Yes, I know what they’re called. Now, help me re-wire this ship, so we can have a nono-second of a chance of survival.”
Vzzzshooo! Vzzzshooo!
Dozens of wide, almond-shaped starfighters zipped by them, quickly reaching the lip of the hills and meeting the Kelhoon starfighter’s head on, hammering the Leaping Lizards with ion fire. Explosions, falling debris, and fires lit the hilltops, ending the Kelhoon squadron before they even had a chance to engage.
“That won’t happen a second time,” said Rivkah. “Kelhoon learn from their mistakes.”
The almond-shaped starfighters cut left, banking wide, strafing the Kelhoon chasing the Atlantean warriors. Kelhoon infantry dove to the ground, many being ripped to shreds by the tracer fire.
Rivkah glanced down at the handcuffed children, the one young girl in the back being dragged along. For a moment, Rivkah’s heart went out to her. No child should be treated in such a way. If she could jump out, take out the Kelhoon soldier, and release those children, she would without a thought.
“Is there a communication link on this thing?” inquired Rivkah. “We need to let them know about the children.”
Bogle unstrapped herself and leaped up, scouring the craft for anything that might be a comm unit. She pressed a button. “Captain Katherine Bogle here. Does anyone read us? Clear.”
No response.
“Anyone?”
Again, silence.
She pressed more buttons, repeating her questions. No one responded.
Rivkah rummaged around the cockpit for anything that might be a comm device, opening a long, oval chest in the rear of the craft. Tridents, armor, helmets, boots, and odd lightning-shaped guns were scattered in the chest, asking to be taken.
When she brought her eyes to the kids, she jumped back. The girl in the back, the one that was being pulled along like a rag doll, was uncuffed, a swarm of Kelhoons around her, ripping her flesh from her bones.
Rivkah wanted to throw up, to tear their throats out and feed them to the wolves. Never in her long years had she seen something so harsh, disgusting, and evil. Was the child alive when the Kelhoon started eating her? God, she hoped not. She glanced at Bogle. The captain hadn’t seen what she had se
en. There was no need to alert her to the horror below.
The craft shuddered, then shifted to the right, zooming in over a pyramid’s golden apex. A flash of white light engulfed the transport and a static sound erupted throughout the cockpit.
Rivkah looked down at her feet, plugging her ears. Bogle did the same.
The white light faded, the static sound disappeared. Rivkah sat and looked up. They were back in the forest they had taken off from and Liberty was next to a tree. She dipped her head and bowed, her eyes full of sadness.
24
J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto
Rivkah stepped down the ramp, her forehead low, eyeing Liberty. “Was that a figment of our imagination, or is that what’s really happening at this very moment?”
“The pyramid’s golden apex teleported you back here. That was not your imagination. The Kelhoon are here in full force. That is why we need you.”
Rivkah’s heart skipped a beat. The child did in fact die, eaten by some sick fucks without a conscience.
“Get me over there,” Rivkah growled.
“I wish I could, but we have to wait.”
“Wait for what?” asked Bogle, now standing next to Rivkah.
“Wait for the other two. Captain Fox and Lieutenant Kaden Jaxx. They are here now.”
Rivkah stood more erect. “Where?”
“You will see them soon.”
Fox had his fingers around Jaxx’s neck, squeezing, lifting Jaxx off the ground and above his head. Jaxx imagined Fox as Darth Vader.
The thought quickly changed when he couldn’t take a breath. He felt the blood drain from his face and his eyes bulged in their sockets. He brought his hands up, scratching and tearing at Fox’s steely grip, trying to break it lose from his neck. It didn’t work. He kneed Fox in the chest with all his might. Fox moved back an inch, but squeezed tighter.
Atlantis Quadrilogy - Box Set Page 38
