by Albert Long
“There are so many people and o many emotions,” Mimi said. “Concentrate,” Matt replied. “Maybe if I can make physical contact with a few children, this can be more effective,” she added. Mimi stood in the middle of the main thoroughfare of the subway. She brushed against a boy walking with his mother. Flashes of laughter flooded her mine. “No problems there. They’re happy,” she yelled to the team. Mimi saw a little boy with his parents hurrying to a waiting train. She touched the boy. “He has leukemia and is very afraid and sad, but seems to love his parents,” she informed the team. “There; the girl in black,” Matt said. “Touch her”. Images of the little girl crying flooded Mimi’s mind. She noticed that the girl’s arm was in a cast. “Walk faster, you little idiot,” the girl’s mother whispered as she gripped the arm without the cast. “You want two casts,” the mother asked harshly. The little girl winced. “We found one,” Mimi announced. She filled Jericho, Matt, and Miguel in on the situation. Jericho walked over to the mother. He whispered into her ear. “You will never touch the child in a harmful manner, speak to her harshly, nor neglect her so long as you live. Now, go buy her some ice cream,” Jericho said. The mother hugged the little girl and told her how much she loved her. “How about some ice cream,” the mother asked the girl. The little girl did a dance and hugged her mother. They headed out of the subway. “Great work, Jericho,” Matt said.
Just as the team started to think that this wasn’t a good place to find some children to help, it happened. Jericho was standing, facing an in-bound train, savoring the breeze. A sheet of paper gusted in his direction and stuck to his leg. He tried to shake it off, but it wouldn’t budge. Matt pulled the paper from Matt’s leg. “It’s written in crayon, and judging from the mis-spellings, it was written by a child. Mimi read the letter aloud. “September 2, 2009: Terri and I don’t know what city we’re in or where they’re keeping us. There is a large clock that always chimes at noon, loud enough that the whole city can hear it. We stay blindfolded, and they give us shots to make us sleep. The man who likes to be called, “Popkins” is the worst. The things he does to Terri haunt me in my sleep. He’s never hurt me, but I know it’s because I’m three years older than Terri and will fight back. His girlfriend acts like we’re not there and that his actions are normal. I pray to the Supreme One that one day somebody will miss us, coming looking for us, and most of all find us, “she read. The team was quiet and pensive. “A large clock,” said Jericho. There are lots of clocks around here that chime at noon,” he added. “Try thinking just of the ones in poor, run-down neighborhoods,” Mimi suggested. “That gets us down to two potential areas of the city—Chinatown and Port Allegro,” Jericho said. “Should we split up and search them or go together in case we get ambushed,” Mimi asked. “We’ll stay as a unit,” Miguel said firmly. “Let’s head over to Chinatown first. In the air, the team was in formation, following Miguel, who had morphed into a sort of leadership role.
“Can you sense the children, Mimi,” Miguel asked. “No. Nothing,” said Mimi. Here, let’s try this, Miguel said. Miguel held Mimi’s hands and looked into her eyes. He concentrated an electric charge into them, amplifying her powers. “Can you sense them now,” Miguel asked. “I don’t think this is the right place, ” Mimi said. Let’s head to the Port Allegro,” she added.
Once in Port Allegro, Mimi led the team in the hunt for the abducted boys who must have slipped that letter on to some car or at some restaurant, or by some other miraculous means that it found its way to Mimi, Matt, Jericho, and Miguel. “I can sense the death force of the child who wrote this. They killed him. I can’t make out anything about his brother. The house is there just beyond that hill, first one on the right.
Mimi knocked on the front door of the house. A Mexican woman opened the door, and soon a six-foot Mexican man stood behind her eating peanuts. “What can we do for your four,” the woman asked. “Lead us to the children,” Mimi said, touching the man’s hand. He turned around and walked to the back of the house and opened the basement. “Harold, don’t” screamed his wife. Within seconds of her last breath, Jericho had his hands around the front of her head in some kind of “death grip”. “What was that, Jer,” asked Matt. “It’s an ancient African mind eraser,” Jericho said. “I like to keep it in my repertoire and use it in tandem with my powers from time to time,” Jericho said.
Rats, roaches, fleas, and worms crawled on the floor where the boy slept. Thousands of insects covered the decaying caucus of his brother—the one who must have left the note begging someone to save them. The boy’s arms were raised above his head, tied to a wood beam with some rope and a nail. Matt, in human for, picked the boy up and walked him upstairs, the others following behind. Matt ran a hot bath for the boy, while Mimi looked for something for him to eat in the kitchen. Jericho had Harold in a headlock; there was no struggling to get out of it. “Repeat after me,” Jericho said. “I am having a heart attack. It hurts severely. My blood vessels are swollen. I am going to die”. The man repeated the phrase over and over. Blood dripped from the man’s eyes. His hands and arms became swollen. His head became so large that his eyes seemed embedded in his skull. The man fell to the floor and made convulsive motions. Finally, with three hugs coughs, the man ceased to breathe. Jericho and Matt clapped hands.
After the boy was clean and had had something to eat, Matt walked him to a fire station and left him there. The firemen called the police, and someone was dispatched to the house to look around.
“Doing that made my life feel like I have a purpose,” Matt said. If I can save children from dying, then maybe someday I can rest, and the Supreme One will forgive me for taking my own. “To the team,” Matt said. “To the team,” they all shouted in unison. “It’s still early. Let’s get in a couple more before we call it a night.
CHAPTER ELEVEN: FORZOZELONE
Fozzley and Selda walked through downtown, chatting about various subjects—catching up on old times. The skies suddenly turned very dark and cloudy, and a cold breeze flowed through the air at a rapid rate, stinging Selda’s nose. “Soulcatchers,” Selda announced. No sooner than she had uttered the phrase, they heard Clause’s voice from above, as he hovered in the air. Selda’s white, thick-feathered, wings ripped through her blouse and spread wide. She took a defensive pose. “Forzozelone Quitan still dwells the earth,” Orin said with a smirk. “Somehow, I always suspected it,” he added. “How can this be when we saw you with our own eyes, destroyed at the hands of the other Tarrons,” Jordin asked. “Tell us, are you Forzozelone,” Orin asked. “I am he,” Fozzley replied.
“It was the high battle of earthly spirits,” Orin began. “It was the fight that the Supreme One knew had to be and had to be without HIS intervention. It was the fight to determine the fate of mankind and other beasts dwelling this planet—enslavement by the Tarrons or continued freedom and protection at the hands of the Angels. It was Angels versus Tarrons, with most supernatural spirits aligned with one side or the other. The Tarrons were near victory when the “Seventh” Tarron, their leader betrayed them and joined the Angels. The traitor helped the Angels defeat the Tarrons. Soulcatchers hunted and removed hoards of Demi-geists, not another of any real power to rise for decades. Though they suffered no loss in numbers, the Tarrons fled into the shadows, awaiting their next opportunity to avenge their defeat by the Angels—the emergence of the new “Seventh” Tarron. Unexpectedly, the Angels turned on Forzozelone for fear that he might reunite with the Tarrons one day. They imprisoned him and delivered him to the Soulcatchers. We severed his ties to this planet, he was judged, and he was banished from the earth”. Orin’s eyes were flaming red. “So, how can it be that you are on this planet,” Jordin asked. Fozzley said nothing. He looked at Selda. “Leave now, Soulcatchers, or I shall make you,” she said. “We’re not here to fight, Angel,” Orin said. Jordin swung his blade over the head of Fozzley. “That is, unless we have to,” Orin added. “I returned because the Supreme One wishes to prevent another war between the Ang
els on Earth and the Tarrons. The prophesized “Seventh” Tarron, their leader-to-be is on this planet. He doesn’t realize who or what he is, yet,” Fozzley said. “The Tarrons desperately seek him. My mission for the time granted me is to find and destroy the “Seventh” Tarron,” Fozzley added. “And what do you get in return,” Clause asked. “My dear Magda returns to me and we are allowed to dwell the earth in love for eternity,” Fozzley replied. The Soulcatchers let out loud guffaws in unison. “Let’s go,” Orin commanded. The Soulcatchers all disappeared into the air. Selda withdrew her wings. Fozzley breathed a sigh of relief. “You think they know who you were talking about—the “Seventh” Tarron—Selda asked. “I think maybe they have a clue. It’s not like his recent displays of power, attitude, and crushing defeats of enemies have gone unnoticed,” Fozzley said.
CHAPTER TWELVE: BONDS
Matt and Miguel sat by the edge of the water watching a human boy fishing with his father. “I used to envy other children who had fathers like that,” Matt said, breaking the silence. Miguel remained stone-faced and speechless. “Com on Mig, it’s me, your friend. Talk to me,” Matt said. “If you don’t, I’ll be forced to tell Mimi about your crush on her,” Matt added. “You wouldn’t dare,” Miguel said. “So, you do still fear some things,” Matt laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean,” Miguel asked. “You’re different lately, Mig. You’re not the fun-loving guy who used to fry birds and squirrels for laughs or hide humans’ car keys just to amuse yourself watching them search futilely for them, only to have you deposit them in their pockets.” Matt chuckled hard. Miguel smirked, then resumed the look of stone. “I feel like I’m changing,” Miguel said. “I feel angry all the time. I feel like my powers are bursting out of me. I delight at the chance to make anyone who crosses me suffer. I don’t even care about saving children anymore. The thrill isn’t seeing a child’s eyes light up with happiness. The thrill is punishing their abusers,” Miguel said. “I’m here for you, Mig,” Matt said. We’re like brothers. After the things we’ve shared, there’s nothing we can’t overcome,” Matt added. A tear streamed down Miguel’s face. “It’s just a phase, man. Leaving home. Dodging Soulcatchers. Changes in your powers. It had to come to a head. Just because we’re not alive, doesn’t mean we don’t have feelings,” Matt added. Mat embraced his friend. They sat quietly for minutes.
“What’s your take on Fozzley,” Miguel asked. “Why is he doing the things he’s done for us? Why not keep to his quiet life back in Maine? Why so much interest in us? Is he just a human with gifts to communicate with the dead? Who is he, really,” Miguel asked rhetorically. “I’ve been wondering those same things,” Matt said. “Well, with the exception of why he didn’t stay in Maine,” Matt added with a laugh. “I think that you, Mimi, Jericho, and I need some time away to talk about things,” he said. “I think things have gotten so complicated that we’re losing sight of why we’re still anchored to our past lives and formed our team. I’d just as soon surrender to the Soulcatchers if we can’t get back to doing good and making sure children’s lives aren’t like ours were,” Matt said.
“What’s go you two out here huddled together, ignoring the rest of us,” Jericho asked. Mimi motioned to Miguel and Matt to fill them in on their conversations and said, “spill it”. “Glad you joined us,” Matt said. “Let’s take a mini trip,” Miguel suggested. “Sure,” said Mimi. “I’ll get Fozzley and Selda”. “No,” said Miguel. “Just the team”.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: WHAT TARRONS DO
“They hate you. They drove your family away. They are everywhere, like a virus. You have the cure,” Krizel whispered into the air. His words feel onto the ears of their target, and elderly man with long white hair—bald in the middle—wearing an earring, a tee shirt and jeans. He was at a local grocery store, noticeably outnumbered there by Asian people. “The bastards are taking over,” he yelled. He stormed outside to his truck and found his gun. Afterwards, he walked hastily into the grocery store and sprayed gunfire until his ammunition was gone. “Let us go,” Krizel said to Caroth and the others. “The Soulcatchers will be on their way. “One-by-one, we will reign over them”, Caroth said. “When our leader joins us…,” Krizel began. “I know,” Caroth said. “It will be glorious”! They laughed, and the Tarrons faded into the shadows.
When The Six entered Mercy Medical Center, no one noticed, aside from the breeze that accompanied their movements. “We will find him in the isolation ward,” Krizel said. “His contagion is the first of its kind seen in North America, and scientists are studying him.” They passed several rooms. Caroth shot sparks of fire into two rooms, engulfing the sick in flames. Medical personnel rushed from every angle and struggled to contain the blazes. Caroth shot flames into six more rooms—the entire unit now blazing. “That should keep them busy,” Caroth said. A doctor ran towards them with a fire extinguisher. Loth touch the doctor’s forehead, killing him instantly. “There. The boy is there,” Beegal said. “Draw his blood,” Caroth commanded. Loth used his forefinger nail to slit the boy’s throat. Beegal collected some blood in his palm. He squeezed it until it smoked, then blew the steam into the ventilation shaft above. In an instant, people in adjourning rooms ran into the hallway, fell to their knees, and tried to crawl away. Blisters covered their faces and hands, and they coughed blood. Beegal smiled a hug grin. Krizel nodded his approval. Beegal led the Tarrons down-stairs, and the same scene played-out on ever floor on which they were present. As they left the building, men dressed in suits that read, “HAZMAT” flooded inside. Soon, Caroth yelled in glee. “There is the Earth Angel, “Lixus”, here to protect these vile creatures. Krizel shot a blast of energy into the Angel’s back, and the Angel fell. Caroth emitted flames from his eyes, consuming the Angel.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: BATTLE OF THE SOULCATCHERS
“I don’t know about you,” Miguel said, “but I don’t care for city-death. I miss the farms, rivers, and serenity of home”. “I think we all do,” Mimi replied. “Do you think it’s safe to go back home,” she added. “Let’s see what Fozzley thinks,” Matt suggested.
“I don’t think safety should any longer be a concern,” Caroth announced. “Your souls shall rest this day,” Jordin added. Jordin was clothed fully in black with armor plates on his chest, back, arms, and legs. He wore a golden helmet. The other Soulcatchers—Orin, Clause, Fidex, Wasu, and Melay—also wore all black, but had silver helmets. All six of them wielded double-bladed, flaming swords. Miguel yelled for the others to get behind him. They did so hurriedly. Miguel’s eyes and fists turned blue. The rest of his form emitted blue electricity. He formed a protective bubble around his teammates. “All together now,” Orin screamed. The Soulcatchers charged towards the children. Miguel shot energy towards the ground before the Soulcatchers. It melted into blue lava. The Soulcatchers took to the sky. “Hit them with a storm,” Jericho yelled. Miguel formed a “V” with his arms and gestured towards the sky. Blue drops of fire fell from the sky, sizzling everything they touched. The Soulcatchers were dismayed. Their helmets began to melt and stream down their faces. Orin flew away, and Miguel gave chase. The other Soulcatchers struck at the protective bubble the shielded Matt, Jericho, and Mimi. They wailed away. The further Orin flew away from the children and the further Miguel was away, chasing Orin, the weaker the protective bubble’s force-field became. Finally, one of them broke through the bubble, grabbed Matt, and flew off with him.
“Matt,” yelled Miguel. Miguel’s entire body now transformed to pure blue electricity. Matt caught up with Orin and threw him to the ground with a loud crush of the concrete below. Jericho and Mimi were being chased by the remaining Soulcatchers. Miguel stood over Orin. He grabbed him by the throat and raised him into the air with is left hand. Orin struggled against him, trying to get Miguel to loosen his grip. Miguel increased the intensity of his electric charge. He glowed dark blue now. His right hand had an electric charge shaped like a knife. Miguel held his fist back, fully intent on destroying Orin with a blow to the skull.
“Drop him or you’ll never see Matt again,” Fozzley urged Miguel, firing blasts of green plasma at the Soulcatchers who were chasing Mimi and Jericho. The Soulcatchers were hit and crashed to the ground, engulfed in green flames. “Fidex, Wasu,” screamed Orin. “Curse you, Tarron,” Orin said to Fozzley. Mimi, Jericho, and Miguel could not believe their eyes. “You’ve been lying to us,” Miguel yelled at Fozzley. He squeezed Orin’s throat tighter, then dropped him to the ground. “We can talk about that later, “Miguel”, Fozzley said. Fozzley hovered over Orin, then pressed his foot onto Orin’s chest. Orin coughed and gasped. “I can bring back Magda, restore your earthly life, never cross your path again,” Orin said. “Just give us the boy Tarron, so we can be sure he never assumes the mantle of The Seventh One, meant to lead the Tarrons to victory.” Only you, Forzozolone, can save the future of humans, ghosts, Soulcatchers, Angels, beasts and all who call this planet home,” he added. Mimi and Jericho were standing next to Michael, save that he might snap and blow electricity everywhere. “Make him lead us to Matt,” Miguel said. “Magda was your beloved wife,” Mimi said. You once told me that when you died, you fled the Soulcatchers. They hunted you and Magda and took Magda, not before you destroyed eight of them. That was the day you learned of your gift,” Mimi finished. “It was also the day that the Tarrons sought to make me, the “Seventh One”, their ordained leader by blood lineage,” Fozzley said, his voice cracking. “A Tarron,” Jericho mumbled. “Tarrons are a race of beings with supernatural powers. The can time-travel. They can raise the dead. They are deadly. Their goal is to rule over the planet and enslave all non-Tarrons. They are as far beyond your kind, in terms of power, as you are above a demi-ghost, and as far as ghosts are above humans Fozzley said. “Only the caretakers, the Angels,that God bound to earth to intervene for the betterment of humanitycan defeat a Tarron. After I died, it was discovered that my abilities were on the level of Tarrons, and I was recruited by them. I helped the Tarrons to wage war against the Angels for control over this world. In the end, I betrayed the Tarrons and helped the Angels avoid acertain demise. I still remember that day. I was walking a rural road in Montana. I was ragged, tired, thirsty, and hungry. A truck passed by, and the little boy sitting in the trailer bed saw me. “God loves you,” he said to me. “Don’t be afraid to do what’s right instead of what feels right,” he said. The boy looked very sickly, and I’m sure he didn’t see too many days after that. However, his words were strong. I thought about what I was doing as a Tarron—destroying creations of the Supreme One, entrusted to watch over HIS earth. I lost the heart of a Tarron that day, all icy and uncaring and robotic. I became a new man.
