The Omega Children - The Return of the Marauders (A young adult fiction best seller): An Action Adventure Mystery

by Shane Mason

Enraged, Argus turned on the Harbinger, pinning him against the tree. ‘So you’re manipulating them like you did me! What the hell are you up to? What do you have planned for them?’

  The Harbinger sighed. ‘You have no choice, Argus. You simply cannot leave, as I suspect you have already found out. By day the sea border is patrolled. Why, I don’t know, as no one can find this land. By night the seas swell and any attempt to cross them would smash you to pieces. The land to the west is impassable, and the deep reaches of the southern wasteland would freeze you to death. The mountain cave cannot be navigated alone. You are trapped. You only have one choice. Do the job you are here to do.’

  Argus fumed and eyeballed him before releasing him.

  ‘Why I would want to do this? Being trapped is not reason enough.’

  ‘Good. Another question. Follow me and I will show you the bracelets and the clothes room.’

  Reaching out, the Harbinger pressed a crease in the bark and the tree shook and its side fell into it, revealing a dark hole and some stone steps leading down.

  ‘We can’t have the Mansion staff seeing you.’ The Harbinger chuckled and stepped down with great care. ‘This will take us into the dungeons. From there...oh look, just follow, easier to show you than to explain.’

  ***

  Ari and Quixote tore through the forest, bursting with energy, stopping when they reached the spot where they had seen the scared boy.

  ‘Mighty impressed,’ Quixote said. ‘You injuns sure track good.’

  Ari crouched down, eyeing the blades of grass, and caressed broken twigs and snapped ends of leaves. The trees above them shook as if something solid hit it.

  ‘Hold up guys,’ Melaleuca’s voice said from above.

  ‘Tarnation girl,’ Quixote said. ‘How-ja get up there?’

  She leapt to another tree and grabbed a branch, flipping herself around it, and then shot off to the next tree. She somersaulted with perfect grace and landed on the ground. Quixote dropped out of his cowboy character, applauding and lauding her with several, ‘Oooo’s.’

  ‘I have to have a go of that costume as well,’ Quixote said approaching Melaleuca.

  ‘Now?’

  He nodded. She laughed.

  ‘I will stand naked in the woods another day. I am sure there will be plenty of time to try them all out. Now, boys - what exactly are you doing?’

  ‘I just wanted to see if I could track the scared kid we met,’ Ari said.

  ‘We are going to rescue him and shoot us some bad guys,’ Quixote added.

  Both Melaleuca and Ari looked surprised.

  ‘I was just going to track him Qui,’ Ari said.

  ‘Exactly the problem,’ Melaleuca said. ‘We need a plan. We need to think, and we need to work out what is going on.’ Her sharp featured face assumed an “I’ve-made-a-decision” look.

  Ari started to say something but Melaleuca looked at him and he thought better of it. And just to make sure, she laid her eyes on Quixote and saw he realised not to argue the point with her.

  ‘Good. As much as I don’t like sounding like Lexington – I think it may be time to take stock.’

  Ari’s nose twitched and then twitched again and then again. He grabbed it and tried to stop it though the twitching grew out of control. He caught a whiff of a scent, and in his mind’s eye he saw Captain HeGood and FumpHee. A smell trail too tantalising to resist appeared before him and he scrambled after it, saying, ‘Sorry.’

  Garbed in her heavy detective cloak, Lexington stumbled up the hill, puffing and panting in time to see an annoyed Melaleuca watch Ari and Quixote charge off once again through the bush.

  ‘Where are they going?’ she asked.

  Melaleuca shrugged her shoulders. ‘They think they are tracking that boy Ari told us about.’

  She somersaulted off at speed, leaping from tree to tree to keep up with them. Sweating, Lexington took off her cloak. She had wanted something with intellectual power though did not think it too intelligent for this type of adventure. She folded it as best as she could and ran off after them.

  Ari followed the smell trail, stopping at a steep drop. He could see bushes smashed at the bottom and a trail leading off. It carried on back toward where he had come from, though now he could see three different smell trails. With Quixote following, he headed back and came across Melaleuca soaring from tree to tree. He flashed a hand sign at her, meaning for her to follow. An out-of-breath Lexington appeared out of the trees and looked puzzled when he gestured at her to follow them as well.

  ‘Where to?’ Lexington said.

  ‘Follow,’ Melaleuca shouted back from high in one of the trees. ‘Move forward.’

  ‘But...’

  Ari stuck to the smell trail with a dogged determination and the others followed him at a steady pace. They crossed the forest for quite some distance and headed west away from the sea. Despite her own instruction, Melaleuca wanted to explore and Ari’s foray was the perfect reason to do so, and besides in truth, her feelings agreed with their mothers’ words – “move forward.”

  By midday they burst out of the forest and on to a scrubby clear opening. They dropped down through some rocks and crossed a small scree face before coming out into an open field. The field appeared out of place as if someone had mown a section of rough earth, flattened it and planted crops. Square in shape, it spread out over a vast area, though beyond it to the south and west, patches of forest and scrubby slopes carried on into the hills.

  Melaleuca took the time to assess where they were. Ari paused and along with Lexington and Quixote gazed out over the field. Ari and Quixote walked a few feet into the field and Lexington shuffled behind them puzzling over the crops.

  ‘Ow,’ Lexington cried out and grabbed for her calf muscle.

  Melaleuca leapt through the air and landed beside her, winching in pain as something sharp dug into her calf as well.

  ‘What are these?’

  Being careful not to move, Lexington bent down and pulled a long-pronged thistle out of her sock and then prodded the sharp end with her finger.

  ‘Ow. What a most malicious plant. Some type of thistle I think.’

  Quixote turned and walked back through the thistles, his boots protecting him. Ari strode through them as well, unaffected despite his moccasins being thinner than Quixote’s boots. Ari stretched his eyes over the whole field as far as he could see.

  ‘It’s all thistles.’

  Lexington put the detective costume back on.

  ‘Exactly what I was cogitating. They look like someone planted them, so logically they must have a purpose. Plants are either food or medicine, or have another use, perhaps even ceremonial or a symbol like the Scottish thistle.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Ari said.

  The smell trail drifted across the field and veered to the right, heading west toward a far off line of Poplar trees.

  ‘I must cross field,’ Ari said walking amongst the thistles pain free. ‘My feet not feel them. Boy must have tough feet.’

  Quixote squinted, snagging up one corner of his mouth. ‘I thinks youse ain’t man enuff. These here sort out whose tuff and who ain’t.’

  A chilly wind blew from the west and some of the grass fronds poking through the thistles leant over. A few spots of rain fell – a threat to wash away the smell trail.

  ‘Must hurry,’ Ari said.

  Quixote screamed a rooting-tooting noise, yeeehaaa-ing and then sprinted off across the paddock.

  ‘I go,’ Ari said. ‘You girls work way round field. When I at other side, I wait for you.’

  ‘Ari,’ Melaleuca called to him though he dashed off after Quixote.

  ‘It seems likely these costumes may not have an altogether entirely positive effect,’ Lexington said. ‘I mean take Ari. His voice is changing and Quixote has led him off with little or no directions. Seems we don’t know where we are heading.’

  ‘We haven’t since we were attacked,’ Melaleuca said. ‘Hence we are now following Ari. My i
nstincts say to follow. If they did not, I would have stopped it. Now come on.’

  Ari reached the line of tall Poplar trees first and felt some essence in them swell inside him. The smell-trail led to a small gap where two of the Poplar trees grew close together, forming a natural wooden arch. Quixote strode behind him and the dark denseness through the gap silenced him. They passed under it and walked amongst what seemed like a thick maze of intertwined fruit trees with sparse light eking through the leaves. Wrinkled and blackened mottled thick trunks and old knobbly branches attested to its great age. It looked as if someone had planted the trees with little thought and had left them to grow. They trod through it following a dirt path and soon neared the other side of it, though Ari dropped to the ground.

  ‘Shh - people are close – nearby. Quixote go back - signal girls, so they know where we are.’

  ‘Sounds mighty fine,’ Quixote said, taking off.

  Ari proceeded forward and the hackles on the back of his neck went up. A confused mass of other smell trails mixed in front of him. Many people had recently trod this way. He carried on following the trails, until the fruit trees ended and the trail traced a well worn path through waist-deep grass. He trod along the path, reaching an embankment, and pushed his way into the long grass, crawling to the top.

  Quixote stood by the Poplar trees. The girls were nowhere in sight. He pushed his hat forward, scratched his chin, grabbed a piece of grass to chew and then squinted as if staring into the full sun. He imagined standing in a blazing desert while facing down a horde of bandits. He scooted his eyes in a lazy arc around the edge of the field and a twig snapped behind him. He whirled about lightning fast, drew his pistol and pulled the trigger. A bullet zipped over the heads of Melaleuca and Lexington.

  From the top of the embankment Ari peered out across a large concrete courtyard to a dull grey-looking prison-like building. It had castle battlements on the top and rough stone walls. Hundreds of limp-haired children clad in sackcloth, milled around miserable faced. Some just walked around while others appeared to be...they appeared to be...

  ‘Can they be...,’ Ari muttered to himself and tried to crane his neck high enough to see without being spotted.

  A handful of children placed what looked like thistles and prickles on their bodies, pushing them into their skin. Older children barked words at them he could not hear, but he could tell they were not words of kindness. If only he could see further. In an instant his eyes acted like telescopes, magnifying what he saw at least twice its normal size. It happened so quick it took him by surprise - making it feel as if he had been propelled forward into the courtyard. He lost his balance and tumbled down the embankment.

  What was that?

  He pushed his way back up the embankment and stared out again, wishing for the same telescopic vision. His vision zoomed forward and despite feeling unsteady, he held his ground and took in the close-up view. He fixed his sight on a child, startled to see it was the boy who he had seen being chased. The child knelt slumped forward, clad in ripped sackcloth. A rope sat tied about his waist and his upper body had a mass of thorns, prickles and thistles jabbed into his skin. Streams of blood streaked down his body and his face showed intense pain.

  Ari scanned the other children who appeared to be having the same thing done to them. Mixed in ages and all on their knees, none of them seemed older than sixteen.

  I wonder if I can hear them as well. Their voices rose in volume and his hearing became more acute. He heard silent gasps mix with low droning sounds and he focused on the boy, hearing him suppressing tears. An older child stood over him talking; sounding like his spirit had been drained from him.

  ‘No noise. Keep quiet. Don’t let it out. Keep it on the inside. Focus. There is no pain. Pain is our friend. It keeps us sharp. Suffer now so that we don’t have to suffer later.’

  The droning became louder in pitch and then dropped away again. Ari tried to focus on what the other milling-about children said, but a gun shot rang out loud, shattering the air with its booming sound.

  ******

  Argus examined each bracelet, threading them through his fingers.

  ‘Metals not valuable, though it does feel strange. What’s the green glow?’

  The Harbinger coughed in admonishment and yanked the bracelet off Argus, returning it to the table.

  ‘Uranium to the untrained eye looks useless. These Pangean Bracelets power the costumes.’

  ‘Pangean? What the hell is that?’

  ‘The name of the bracelets.’

  Argus growled. ‘You’re telling me I left my home for bracelets.’

  ‘Would you stop doubting and fighting. Just follow me.’

  Up in the attic they entered the costume room.

  ‘Well, what do you think?’ the Harbinger said beaming at all the costumes.

  ‘What do you mean? It’s a bunch of old clothes.’

  Argus’s expression became fierce.

  ‘Tut-tut. Thomas, Thomas, Thomas. Let me demonstrate.’

  They walked along the rows of costumes and stopped before the mirror.

  ‘Pick a costume or a set of clothes,’ the Harbinger challenged him. ‘Something intriguing.’

  ‘If I wanted to play dress-ups, I would have worn your mother’s skirt.’

  ‘Pick!’

  Argus reluctantly reached out and grabbed the first costume his hand brushed against. He tore it off the hanger and threw it at the Harbinger, and a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. The words “strong man” lay facing up from it. The Harbinger disrobed and put the tights on and pulled the singlet over his aged body. He reached under the rack and put a gut-belt around him.

  ‘Now you see me,’ the Harbinger said.

  He knelt and produced a barely visible bracelet. It glowed black and he slipped it onto his wrist, and closing his eyes he started to calm his mind. Argus shifted his weight from foot to foot, clenching and unclenching his fists.

  ‘Well!’

  ‘Shut up and watch.’

  Looking serene, the Harbinger’s shoulders drooped forward and his breathing slowed. His arms and legs began bulging, and rippled muscles formed on his body, pushing against the singlet and tights. He stood, his face now square-jawed, and with a gnarled arm and massive hand, clasped Argus’s neck. Argus struggled and tried to pry open the grip.

  ‘...let...go...can’t...’

  The large hand vanished and Argus threw the Harbinger off him. The Harbinger lay panting, and his body once again became aged and wrinkled, and the costume for a second time hung off him.

  Argus gazed down at him.

  ‘The bracelets make the costumes work?’

  The Harbinger coughed.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Let me try.’

  ‘Can’t work for you...’

  ‘Let me try!’

  Argus tugged the black bracelet off the Harbinger and pushed it on his arm. He threw his clothes off and grabbed a costume, a butcher’s apron and clad himself in it.

  Nothing happened.

  ‘Make it work!’

  Such power would surely get him out of this land.

  ‘It doesn’t work. That’s the point. I cleared my mind for a brief few seconds. That’s all I can manage.’ He started pulling his clothes back on. ‘Listen! Only the truly innocent can wield the bracelets.’

  ‘What use is this to me then if it does not work?’

  The Harbinger drew in a huge breath as if he was about to lambast him but stopped and composed himself. ‘Won’t work for you. You are to fight on behalf of the children. You have no choice.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You must sense it.’

  ‘Sense what?’

  ‘The world. The outside world is troubled deeply, deeper even than the end of the last age when the Etamols’ empire collapsed. When ─ ’

  ‘Wait. Wait. Wait. Are you telling me you believe that Antavahni freak?’

  Stunned, the Harbinger shook his head. ‘How can you not
believe or be curious?’

  ‘I just don’t buy it?’

  ‘Don’t or won’t.’

  Argus squinted at the Harbinger. ‘No one does anything for nothing. What do you want out of this?’

  ‘So suspicious.’ Disappointment rang out in his words. ‘You were the toughest child.’ He started pacing back and forth, remiss that Argus’s years away had only hardened him even more. ‘I want you to remember and go to the land of Ori. Go to the Southern Wasteland, wrestle with the Thar Mountain Goat men, embrace your Golgothic roots and take possession of your birth right, tame the Ori and lead them.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘They will be needed to protect the children.’

  ‘From what? With those costumes and bracelets they won’t need protection.’

  Angered, the Harbinger bit his lip and held back for a few seconds and then spoke.

  ‘All power corrupts. Only innocence stops corruption. The children are innocent. They have spent their life without rules and have developed their own boundaries. They set their own questions and work out answers for themselves.’

  ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

  ‘These children have inside them the seeds of the next age. But first they must learn to wield great power and stay innocent. If they do not, the next age will be given to Kali - darkness.’

  Argus shook his fist.

  ‘This is not convincing me.’

  ‘You must see it, feel it. Even those lost to the deception of this age sense an end is near. Uneasiness sits amongst them. Despite being warned repeatedly they carry on as if life will carry on forever. Nothing lasts forever. Nothing.’

  The Harbinger could tell Argus did not know what he talked of.

  ‘Whatever then,’ said Argus. ‘And what’s your job?’

  ‘My job is to protect the children from themselves. Keep them playing, while you make sure no harm comes to them. Together we shall make sure they are kept hidden, until it is time...’

  ‘Time for what...oh God, no wait...let me guess...time for the great revealing where they will save the world.’

  ‘The world is already ending. It is not to be saved. They are the last children - Omega Children. After them there will be no more.’ He added with a heavy heart, ‘They were not supposed to be here until they were at least 18. Glad we had you ready...shouldn’t have been attacked...bit of a worry.’