“Go, go. Up the hill and to the right. There is a ravine with dozens of caves. We’ll lose them there.” It was Bogle’s voice. She had already jumped over the wall and caught up. Was she superwomen? How did she get there so fast?
Rivkah attempted to move, but her muscles continued to be worthless. They didn’t care that she was in dire need of safety, of help. She wanted to kick the shit out of her ligaments, tendons, bones, and brain for not complying.
They slogged up the hill, battling the snow, but it fell from the sky thick and fast, making the banks and drifts deeper and more treacherous with every passing minute.
Abdu jerked to the side, roaring loudly, losing grip on Rivkah. They both fell, landing hard on the snow.
Abdu hurried to his feet, lifting Rivkah back on his shoulder. “I’ve been hit,” he said.
Hanging over his shoulder, Rivkah eyed the black singe mark on his lower back. Smoke curled from the wound in his flesh, now completely stripped of fur. He shifted his weight and followed Bogle past a boulder and down a snow-covered rocky ravine.
“This way. Hurry,” yelled Bogle.
A phaser erupted against a wall of rock, again, nearly hitting Abdu. Then another and another. The shots were erratic, as if the Kelhoon weren’t very good at running on frozen tundra while shooting at the same time.
Bogle screamed.
Abdu ran by her.
Bogle held the back of her leg, her face contorted in pain. Abdu reached down and Bogle raised her hand. Abdu moved backward and grasped it. He turned and moved forward quickly, dragging Bogle across the snow.
“Use your Chi,” ordered Abdu.
Bogle closed her eyes, concentrating. A shot skipped by her. She thrust her free hand forward. The ravine echoed with bursts of rocks falling from the lip of the cliffs surrounding them.
Several Kelhoon made gargling sounds, either in anger or pain, Rivkah couldn’t tell. She lifted her head more, but to no avail. She couldn’t see but a few yards past Bogle’s dragging feet.
“Third cave on the left. It has several exits and is attached to other underground tunnels. We can recoup there,” said Bogle.
Rivkah wanted to ask what was happening behind them. Were the Kelhoon all dead? Was Fox dead? Did Bogle somehow push the Kelhoon back? Her lips wouldn’t cooperate. The only thing that exited her mouth were grunts and incoherent sounds. She rolled her eyes, wanting to use every cuss word she could think of. If she could move her head, why couldn’t she move her lips?
Abdu pulled Bogle up a short incline. The snow then turned into rock and the outside light dimmed. They had entered a cave.
Bogle jostled her hand free from Abdu and pushed herself up, hopping on one leg. She pointed her palms at the entrance. “Move deeper into the cave.”
Abdu complied.
The cave began to shake.
Rivkah glanced at Bogle. The bottom of the cave’s entrance crumbled in on itself, rocks crashing down upon each other, blocking the entrance.
Darkness eclipsed the cave. A rumble and a few of the rocks at the entrance fell to the ground. The Kelhoon were already at the make-shift door, pushing their way in.
3
J-Quadrant, Solar System - Nearing East Rise, Callisto
Jaxx pressed the control stick forward, rocketing past the fifteen-story statue named Lady of Atlantis, aka “Princess Leia” on account of the hair buns on the side of the statue’s head. Jaxx was reminded of the first time he’d seen her. Towering above the Atlantis skyline, the statue was a replica of the Lady of Elche stone, found in the 1890’s on a private estate in Spain. Even back in his days as an archeologist – long before his claims that Atlanteans had once lived on that pale blue dot called “Earth” had been corroborated – he’d maintained that the Lady of Elche stone was an Atlantean relic. All his colleagues insisted she had been created by some primitive culture thousands of years ago and mocked his claims, his research, and his evidence.
What he wouldn’t give to see their faces now, as his space ship roared past the damned proof that he’d been right all along. The Lady of Atlantis statue was identical to the Lady of Elche stone in every regard, save size. Where one was miniature, the other was gigantic, but there could be no doubt in anyone’s mind: they were the product of the Atlantean imagination. He’d been right and they’d been wrong and fucking fuck fuck. It didn’t mean shit. That life was over, his colleagues left behind to rot on an abandoned planet, his new life stretching out before him, with Death gnawing at his ankles. There was no time to indulge in revenge fantasies. He had to get his friends to safety and come up with a plan to rid the galaxy of Evil.
He veered to the left and pulled back on his control stick, hugging the gray and white hills that neighbored East Rise.
Kiyo-zan leaned forward, pointing, “Kono-saki.”
“Up ahead?” Jaxx’s eyes followed Kiyo-zan’s finger. “Yep, inbound. We’ve been found.” The transport ship’s alerts went haywire, and the cockpit dome light changed from a natural daylight to battle-ready red. Several Agadon starfighters were descending from the black clouds, their overly extended wings were tipped with laser mounted weapons that began growing a molten orange.
Jaxx tapped the console, irritated at its slow warning system. Kiyo-zan warned him of the inbound enemies before the sensors. “A little late for the alarm, aren’t ya?” He turned toward Zara. “Strap in.”
Were the Kelhoon already in combat with the Agadon? The Kelhoon engaging the Agadon would be a good thing. Because for the first time in a long time, the Kelhoon couldn’t focus all their fire power on Callisto. They had enemy combatants of their own. They were going to be the stitch in the Agadon’s side and the Agadon the stitch in the Kelhoon’s side, giving Jaxx some time to end this war, to end both the Agadon and the Kelhoon threat. He’d eradicate two dick-headed races, unless they did it for him. How sweet would that be? If they took each other out?
“We don’t have any weapons, Jaxx,” stated Zara. “We are like an injured red-billed brandzill flying.”
Jaxx pulled back on the control stick and then right, taking the craft around a hill, moving through a massive gorge.
He closed his eyes and rolled them back. He took a mighty breath. His body tingled, then expanded. All went silent and an aura of colors enveloped his vision. A spiral of black and white spun in front of his third eye. He exhaled and became one with the craft.
He opened his eyes and turned sharply. A red energy bolt zoomed past him, pounding into the side of a hill. Three Agadon fighters were now inbound, directly on his bow. Their cannons rotated and sucked in, pushing out violently, sending ion charges his way.
He spun the craft on its side, the bolts missing. He brought his ship into a low yo-yo maneuver, rolled the transport craft’s nose into a turn, and dropped it into a steeper angle, causing the three Agadon’s in pursuit to overshoot. He had to sacrifice what little altitude he had for an instantaneous increase in speed, and it worked.
He pulled behind an Agadon starfighter. He knew he couldn’t pull the trigger, because there was no trigger to pull. Perhaps they wouldn’t see his bluff – that his ship was weaponless – and would hightail out of there to save their own asses.
No such luck.
One of them spun on a dime, something only Jaxx could do. Well, Jaxx and one other.
Not good.
It had to be Taz – the Agadon that had the same powers as him.
“Shit, that sly pain in the ass is back,” said Jaxx, pulling away, lifting his craft above the hills. A blast shuddered against the transport’s belly and Jaxx was thrust back into his tight, inflexible body. He grasped his control stick.
Zara grabbed Jaxx’s shoulder. “Land this thing before we go up in flames.”
“I’m already on it.”
Another hit rocked the craft. The display screen blipped off and on. The craft fell from the sky, the instrument panel flickering off, then powering on, then off again. They were in a free fall and the ship spun wildly i
n circles.
“I don’t have control,” yelled Jaxx.
He glanced at his altimeter. A hundred feet until they met the ground.
“Brace for impact.” Jaxx grabbed the sides of his chair, pulling himself into a ball.
Fifty feet.
A beep rang through the cockpit.
Twenty feet.
Everything went offline and the craft went silent.
Five feet.
The transport ship slammed into the ground, rumbling on impact. The floor buckled and the ship convulsed upward, bouncing off the ground. The restraints around Jaxx broke, catapulting him forward and into the cockpit window. It shattered, glass shards spitting everywhere, and somehow, the base of a hill started to come closer and closer to Jaxx.
No, he was coming closer to it.
He covered his face with his arms and hands. He bounced backward and expelled a gush of air when he hit the hard, frozen ground.
4
E-Quadrant, Solar System - Whitefish, Montana
Drew ducked as an explosion hit the top of the energetic shield that surrounded and protected Whitefish, a city he hadn’t known existed until a few months back. The mushroom-shaped dome was made up of a shield technology he knew nothing about. Drew was no stranger to holy-shit type conspiracies. The weapons-deflecting shield, which had saved all their skins, had been rolled out in Whitefish soon after diamond-shaped ships started appearing over ancient structures and pyramids. Pretty fishy that Whitefish, home to a secret United States Military installation, was protected by super-advanced tech, while the alien craft bombed the almighty hell out of every city they could find.
And now these alien craft were directly over Whitefish.
Kachoooj! Kachoooj!
Drew, in his ducked crouch, put his hands over his head. He looked up. Smoke rose from the top of the mushroom shield more than two or three hundred feet up.
A craft, about the size of a jet fighter, swooped in, dropping another red ball of charged ion on top of the dome.
Kachoooj!
The shield fizzled, vapor rose to the sky, and Drew ducked even more.
He was in the middle of downtown Whitefish – a five block by five block of shops, bars, offices, and more bars. It wasn’t his kind of town. It was too small, too cramped.
Hell, was there a marijuana dispensary around? A joint would calm his mind, take the care out of life, and allow him to go slowly into the depths of full-body relaxation. It was his massage of sorts and he missed it greatly.
He spotted a marijuana leaf above a square building almost a block away, the words underneath – Bloomingbuds.
A Marine ran past him, a tool case in his hand, and stopped at a shield battery sitting behind a turret. The battery – the size of a shed – sat in the middle of the road right smack in between dotted, white road lines with a turret-looking cannon attached to the battery by wires. The cannon shot out a continuous beam of translucent white light into the sky, connecting to other beams, creating the domed shield.
The Marine hastily unscrewed a part of the battery. The cannon beam shut off, exposing a new hole in the mushroom shield.
Drew uncurled himself and stood. He took a step forward, biting his lip in panic, his heart beating harder in his chest.
Was this guy taking the shield down? No! Bad idea, bad, bad idea.
The Marine scrounged in his bag and pulled out a similar-looking part he just threw on the road. He screwed it on the battery.
Zzzzzzzzzzzz!
The beam came back to life.
Drew rubbed his arm. He was getting paranoid. But why wouldn’t he? Some strange ET group had invaded his home – Earth – and all of the politicians, including his Dad, Slade Roberson, had left Earth for a new home. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.
And where the hell had Anderle and T-hacker gone? He hadn’t seen them since he’d arrived in Whitefish on the helicopter. After unstrapping his restraints and getting off the bird, Drew had purposely gone the opposite direction as Anderle and T-hacker. Those two bumbling liars had disappeared around a building, heading to the north of town. They had an eye for trouble, an eye to help themselves while screwing over everyone else. Whatever they were doing most likely wasn’t good. Hence, Drew wanted nothing to do with them.
Kachoooj! Kachoooj!
A family, two red-head children and their red-head mom, raced across the street and into a bar, covering their heads as if charred debris could fall on them at any time.
He followed the family, stepped up the wooden steps, and opened the bar door. A warm, thick breeze full of cooked vegetables and coffee flew in his face.
The bar was full. They glanced up at the ceiling as another blast hit the shield, shaking the building. They brought their eyes back to their coffee mugs a moment later, looking too tired to think. Drew knew the feeling. They’d been under attack for so long he could scarcely remember a time when they hadn’t been ducking and dodging and waiting to be vaporized. But it had only been a few days, no…a week. Maybe a month? Weird how time could concertina in on itself in times of great stress. It felt more like a million years.
A man at a table clanged his soup bowl and yelled across the bar. “Megan, get me another bowl of soup. This didn’t fill me up.”
A woman, no more than Drew’s age, beautiful, brown hair flowing over her shoulders, and blue eyes that could brighten any guy’s day, washed a glass behind the bar. “Marines have us on rations, Carl, and for good measure. We don’t have an unlimited amount of food, if you’ve forgotten.”
The guy threw his napkin on the table, stood and grumbled something inaudible. He kicked his chair to the side and wiped his hands, eyeing the exit. The problem? The guy was as big as a bear, looked like he was ready to pounce, and Drew stood between him and the door. Drew stood to one side, but the guy slammed his shoulder into him as he walked by. “Move it.”
Drew jerked back, doing his best to absorb the blow. “Sorry to get in your way, buddy.” Sarcasm came naturally to Drew. He didn’t hold back.
Carl stopped with his hand on the door handle. He turned and flared his nostrils. “What did you say, little man?”
Drew wasn’t little, but compared to this guy, everyone was. Drew knew it would be unwise to pick a fight with Carl, let alone say any more words to him. Drew’s mouth, on the other hand, had other ideas. “I would love to insult you but I’m afraid I won’t do as well as nature did.”
Drew gulped. Why the hell did he say that?
Carl reared his fist back and swung at Drew. Drew jumped out of the way, eyes like saucers. Another fist came at Drew’s jaw, connecting, knocking Drew into the corner of the bar. Glasses and bowls slipped off the countertop, crashing to the floor, shattering into hundreds of pieces. Carl’s knee came up into Drew’s stomach and Drew lifted a few inches off the ground, then fell to the floor, holding his stomach and gasping for breath.
Carl grabbed the top of Drew’s hair and pulled him to his feet.
“Stop it, Carl.” Megan ran between them and pushed Carl away from Drew. “Leave, alright? Just leave.” She put her hand on his chest, her voice steady and low.
He gave her a long look, then turned and exited.
Megan spun on her heels, her eyes like an inferno. “You’d do well if you keep your Goddamn mouth shut in this town, stranger. Do you hear me?”
Drew rubbed his chin, his body buckled over. “Yes, miss. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry ain’t getting you any soup or coffee.” She walked behind the bar and pointed at the door. “You leave, as well.”
“I haven’t had food in…I don’t know how long. Please, I –”
“Megan, he’s with me.” Master Sergeant Angel Segarra rose from a table at the back of bar. He was with Mya and some other Marines.
Mya smiled, her eyes full of the same innocence he’d seen every day for the weeks he’d been with her, more or less saving her. She, however, was now some type of superhero, able to heal someone’s broken nose with
a touch. And if shit wasn’t already strange, right after they landed in Whitefish, she evaporated alien jet fighters with some kind of energy that emitted out of her body.
“He’s with you? Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Megan muttered. She pulled out a dust pan and grabbed a broom leaning against a wall. She stomped over to Drew and shoved them in his face. “Clean your mess, and I’ll give you some vegetable soup and coffee. Alright?”
Drew swept the shards of glass and bowls into a pile. “I don’t drink coffee. Any water?” He brushed the pile into the dust pan.
Megan slid a small garbage can over to him. “Drink the water in the soup. Otherwise I have to boil water for ten minutes. We got hand cranked generators keeping the water flowing, but we don’t know if those ETs are slipping any harmful materials in the rivers upstream past the shield. And I’m not boiling anything for the next few hours.” She tapped her gas stove, indicating that’s where she’d boil it.
“Drew, come over here,” called Segarra.
Drew emptied the dust pan and walked over.
“Where did you last see my wife and son?” Segarra looked at Drew, his eyes full of hope.
A memory of Segarra’s wife came to Drew’s mind, her outstretched arms reaching for Mya, a pool of blood surrounding her. His wife, Mya’s mom, had died in a car dealership, struck by a string of bullets, and as for Segarra’s son? He was smashed under a fallen cement ceiling. He couldn’t have saved her or the boy. And now he was supposed to tell this strong Marine, who could take Carl – the fucking bear – to the ground with one arm tied behind his back, that his wife was dead, and died right in front of Drew? And that he held Mya back from her mom, the child who could heal with a touch, while her mom was dying, asking for help, wanting to be with her child in her last breaths of life?
“I last saw her in Charlotte, North Carolina.”
Segarra shook his head. “That’s not good enough. I can tell you’re holding something back. Now, what is it?”
Atlantis Quadrilogy - Box Set Page 70
