by Josh Law
“Yeah, I don’t get it. Are we gonna be tested on this?” Nick tried to move his hands. The action set all of Alex’s fingers to twitching.
“Okay, let me put to you like this. You both recall what saved the two of you in Durango, yes? An emergency procedure that caused your neurotransmitters to actually calibrate and respond directly with a symmetrical value to one another. Sort of like symbiosis in the wild. Your blood merged together and your bodies co-operated to heal fast enough that you could live.”
“Yeah, I already aced that course, Doc.” Nick tried to sit up again. Alex winced at the haunting pain he felt in Nick’s back that made his brother ease back to lying flat against the jacked up chair.
“Alright, well it went something like this. I was in the furthermost holding cell of this godforsaken facility when that blast went off. I hadn’t been free in months. In fact, I’d never really been free of the room where they converted my mummification into a reverse necrosis actually healing and self-sanitizing cadaver. Anyway, I scurried topside to find the whole place mangled, the doctor dead, and you boys lying in various pieces all over the yard.
Shockingly, this was about three days ago. A miraculous breakthrough, this is. Said to myself, ‘Rameses, you’re all alone on a god-forsaken island with nothing but the dead to keep you company and some rather advanced albeit damaged scientific equipment to play with.’ So, out of complete boredom I performed some tests. You were brothers! I thought to myself, ‘Rameses! Wonderful! Now you can attempt to see what you were wondering about when the Doctor started showing you the close-up footage of the Resheph’s effects’, right? Okay, so I plugged you both up into this machine, originally used on monozygotic-sorry, identical twin-monkeys.” The Doctor paced around the chair, flipping computer monitors showing all sorts of medical data they had no idea how to read to face them.
“Voila! Not only does this new equipment, when fueled by a Resheph drip, perform the same function as the prototype equipment that saved your turkey back in Durango, it upgrades it to the nth degree. I could actually observe with advanced video graphic technology- frankly it’s a super video game-and send electro-magnetic telekinesis (sorry, basically, it’s a head set that allows for my brainwaves to use electronic impulse to chauffer your brain waves to healthy activities that mimic my own) to your own neurological makeup (your craniums were still whole, I scooped them up on dinner platters, FYI) and Bob’s your uncle I had your bodies in the test tube to begin with co-operating to gene jump between the two of you and reconstruct your entire bodies.” The Doctor smiled. Nick and Alex still didn’t totally understand.
“Okay, so, we died and were like jigsaw puzzles and you used some magic drug and equipment here in the Psych Kitchen to put us back together?” Alex’s eyes crossed.
“Well, yes, but the ultimate machine I had was both of your hearts beating as one. It was simply beautiful. It was like the development of identical twins in reverse but knitting the two of you into a closer chemical bond somehow. Artwork, boys” Rameses dabbed the sweat from his brow with a blue cloth towel, truly excited by everything he’d witnessed.
Nick smiled at the miracle for a moment. Then he thrashed against his restraints.
“Wait! Did you say it’s been days?!”
“Well, yes, young master. Oi! Calm down now! I understand that your family is out there on the frontlines, but you’ll have to be carefully extracted from this machinery to avoid the both of you bleeding out.” The Doctor shuffled to begin his work.
“Yeah, so in the meantime, Nick, we could be coming up with a plan.” Alex held his breath. He didn’t have to imagine the wheels turning in his brother’s brain. He could feel his wheels turning against his own proverbial wheels by the nature of this phenomenon.
“A medical researcher with clear memory of his native ancient Egypt, huh? If we could prove the story, send him as evidence to like the UN or NATO, we might be able to get big sponsors!” Nick tried to twist to look at his brother. Alex laughed.
“Don’t expect to get it for free, bro. Hey, Rameses, hope you’ve got a golden sarcophagus in your possession and some like weird little idol looking things that only you could explain…” It had been a joke. Alex leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling still convinced this was some kind of an acid trip.
“Say! I do, in fact. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, this just keeps getting better.” Nick snapped his fingers, causing Alex to snap his own. Their fool hardy plan might actually be do-able. Now to find a way off this island…
Chapter 6:
All the eyes of the sky were trained to her. That was the darkest day in U.S. history and it would have been the last if not for the small band of rebels that came knifing into the harbor.
She stood in the sun, atop the huge pyre of gold they’d built for her, surrounded by many flaming canisters of poison that kept U.S. Federal Agents at bay. It had been the pinnacle of her power. She was Senator Kelly York no more. No more did she have to play the part of impoverished Brazilian immigrant becoming a U.S. Citizen and championing the ratification of weak law. Now she was the Queen of America. She ruled the bleak North Pole to the tip of the South American coast. Hawaii to New York City. She was the great ruler of New Maya and today was her coronation.
The death’s head was in her one hand and she held a living parrot in the other. Her dress was made of solid gold and she wore a basket of fresh fruit atop her head. The New Mayan constitution was sitting on a podium open in front of her. She was the harbinger of death. The bringer of life. Giver of gold. Who would be stupid enough to oppose her?
The little family of Nicolas Avalon, of course.
Over the many centuries it had taken for this coup to be operable, how could this small band of rebels be complicating it so much? Weren’t they ants under her heels now? Just a small band of refugees, a dying bird’s squeak drowned out by the song of lions?
With her foot placed firmly on the back of the President’s head, wasn’t she the most powerful human being currently to walk the Earth? This was nothing. They were small shoots of grass that would die in the heat of her sun.
She took a deep breath to commence with her speech. A legion host of cameras tuned to hack into every newscast both large and small over the entire Planet turned to see her. The monitors had full view of her. The World would see her star rise in the West and make her ancestors proud.
Her words would never leave her lips. There was an undercurrent of blue light in the main monitor’s screen. It began to flicker and picture cut out.
“What the hell? Get visual on me! What’s happening? I’ll have someone’s head.” Guatavita stomped the foot that was on the President’s skull and he groaned.
Just then picture flashed back on. It wasn’t her own image she saw. She gasped. It was Nicolas Avalon standing in the middle of Waker’s Island. Or what was left of it.
“Greetings from the South Pacific. I would have tuned in to say ’God save the Queen’ but come to think of it, your Ladyship, I don’t really want God to save you.” He grinned and folded his arms.
“What is this? Like a massive Skype channeling? Get me a microphone! I’ll put this little piece of trash back where he belongs.” She scrambled as they plugged her into audio feeds.
“Oh! Nicky! Good of the Jaguar to join the Court.”
“Ah, I’d have to agree. Considering that I had to blow myself and a lab back to Hell and then climb out for the third time this year just to make this appearance!” He shook himself. She felt her face growing cold.
“See, I knew you had the power. What about my ancestors? Have you brought a message you’d like to share with the World before we begin with our glorious, eternal empire?” Guatavita forced her perfect pearly whites into a painful smile. If she just kept playing the cards to her advantage, she could keep her guards from panicking. They were young and naïve. The idea of this Frankenstein weapon that seemed to rise from Hell as many times as he pleased still terrified them to joint and ma
rrow. Nick smiled. She could feel the power slipping from her hands. The sun going down on her already in its wee morning hours.
“Your ancestors? Ha, you should have heard the like of lecture they wanted to give you! It’s sad, really sad. They promptly informed me that Maya was meant to end. That they got what they deserved when they disappeared from history. Because you’ve lived like they did, I have come back from the deepest circle of Hell with express orders to find you. To hunt you down even if that takes me to the ends of the Earth. They’d like for me to see you brought to a physical justice by the powers that rule the World of today. When you die, and make no mistake, by the thousand curses of your ancestors you certainly will, then I’m to escort you back to meet them myself for your crime of usurping the authority of the ancient kings. I consider it an honor, Guatavita.” He bowed to the camera.
She felt her foot slip off the President’s neck.
“You’re lying…”
“Am I? I have this destroyed lab to prove it. Oh, and Dr. Rameses salvaged this.” Nick reached to the ground off camera and plucked up a set of charred clothing.
“Check it. You think I just have Spec Ops duds at my regular disposal? These roasted threads are proof that I’m not lying to you. I just happen to be a very lucky man.” He winked with a chuckle that froze her blood.
She studied him. Dressed now in the said Spec Ops SWAT officer’s attire and bulletproof vest, with a Mac10 hung over his shoulders, he looked far more the threat than he’d seemed before.
“Seems that I’m in a bit of a quandary. I suppose I’ll have to kill you in a permanent way so you can’t open the door between Earth and Hell anymore.” She tilted her chin to the light. Even from under her heel, the President was laughing at what he could hear.
“Yeah, good luck with that. You know how they say the third time’s the charm? Uh, it’s been three times now and I’m still here.” Nick shrugged with searing laughter that made her want to gouge her eardrums out.
“This isn’t a message to usurpers. I don’t have time for you. This is a message for Mr. President. I apologize that we can’t speak face to face, sir. I’d like to address your current situation. I believe I have compiled sufficient data to ensure a legitimate case before the United Nations. I am confident that I will be able to convince the World to intervene before the hosts of the Dead intermingle with the living to form pure chaos. Hang tough, Mr. President. Help is on the way.”
The President tore free, intimidated much less now that the armed guards had taken a step back. He twisted onto his haunches and gazed up at the screen.
“Good God! He’s just a kid!”
Nick smiled at the camera.
“Yes, sir. 18-years-old to be exact. Wars are fought by anyone who has the guts to stand up to bullies. Now having said that this is my turn to do my part. I will turn the floor over to Dr. Rameses, that he can address the ministers of the United Nations directly from this feed.” Nick bowed and walked off camera. Rameses in his bleach white physician’s coat took his place.
“Greetings from a foreign ocean. I am Rameses, and I was Pharaoh in Egypt a long time ago, even before the birth of Christ.
I know that the general populace is probably in a state of panic. I mean, ancient kings and teenagers rising from the dead with no explanation? It would be enough to alarm even the most stouthearted warrior and to baffle the greatest of thinkers.
Fear not, though, children of all my tomorrows. I have returned from the Underworld with sufficient means of explaining to you your current crises. I have here the shroud of my mummification and am willing to be subjected to live tests of my blood samples, tissue, and cerebral fluids to confirm that I am indeed the exact match of the DNA found in these burial wrappings.” Rameses held up the items he indicated.
“ I will require safe transportation to Europe from this island for myself, young master Nicolas Avalon, and his brother Alex Prescott- Come here, son, so you can be photographed!“ Rameses beckoned to Alex who stepped on camera wearing the same military uniform that Nick had donned and carrying an AR-15 on his shoulders.
“Strong lad, this one. He’s been manning the camera this whole time, but I suppose you’ll need to see his image so you can readily recognize us when you come to pick us up. We have no sufficient means of escaping the forsaken and demolished fortress you see behind us. The Mayan usurper’s retaliation will be here momentarily and so there can be no time wasted in attempting to furnish such a craft.
We have in our possession scientific research and various salvaged equipment from the demolition that can divulge the full scale of the Queen’s plot as well as the means necessary to combat it. A chemical compound now known as Resheph serum that would be indispensable in her World Wide overthrow.
The nature of our discovery is highly confidential and cannot be disclosed or communicated over this feed. We risk the potential of foreign laboratories replicating what we have produced here! If you, however, believe our testimony to be an instrument of protecting the sanctity of independent governance, then please do not hesitate to assist us. We will be watching the skies. We will be waiting.”
With that, all camera feed was cut off again. Guatavita’s film crew strong-armed their way to backup generators and high tech equipment to try and restore picture again.
“Unbelievable!” Guatavita hissed and descended the stage, rounding up several of her personal attendants for a private meeting.
President Elijah Payne sat in the center of the armed men, reeling more from what he’d just witnessed than from his abduction.
“Dear God! We’re facing the end of the World!”
Chapter 7:
She was going forward to die. That’s all she could think about as she directed her guys to strategic positions and prepared for the ships peeling towards her like sharks to the small school of fish. There was no hope left for her except for the cameras to capture her final act with a blaze of living color.
Then the cameras were hacked and her dead son appeared on massive screen mounted above D.C. shoreline, dressed like a soldier and talking rescue plans with the President.
Alive. It completely changed the meaning of everything. If he could rise from Hell again to defy Guatavita, then she could handle a few thugs on deck.
“That’s my boy, Nicolas! That’s my boy. You see that, ladies and gentlemen? We’ve got this one in the bag. Cover each other and dance your best.” Marilyn took the helm, steering to the shoreline.
Renee jumped up and down and cried for joy when Alex walked on screen. With Nick, it was almost expected to see him emerge from the dead. Alex was a tossup. He had Army’s genes but it had never been tested. The boys proved to be inseparable in death, burial, and resurrection. There he stood, eyes tired, jaw squared, dressed like a soldier himself but alive.
“Oh my God! This! This…” She looked to Chance who smiled.
“See, Bacardi? There’s no reason to cry…” Sally went to the little girl and wrapped her arms around her as she knelt on decks sobbing from shock and pure joy. Then, her fire returned. She hopped to her feet, with her fists full of grenades.
“Okay, the boys are back in town! The party can commence for real.” She whooped enough to shake the face of the waters.
The ships were closing in on them with the greed of clams to trap their precious pearls. They could almost feel the combatants swarm the decks, each one eager to nail them in the coffin.
Renee scooped up her rifle. She’d attached a scope on it that she’d found amongst the previous crews’ gear. Leaning against the rail, she scanned the decks.
“Marilyn, you’re not gonna believe this!”
“Lay it on me, girl.”
“In the forecastles of the flagships for each company…There looks to be like some kind of board of directors set up in each ship. Unless I’m tripping, which I don’t think so, (I mean we have Whitehorse as living proof and we all saw Pharaoh Rameses on TV) each board of directors consists of a previous world leader i
n terror.” Renee gulped and leaned closer.
“Leaders like who?”
“Adolf Hitler for one.”
“Oh my God.”
“Castro…Poncho Villa…A guy that I’d be willing to bet my last cash is the Julius Caesar.” Renee twisted around to look at Marilyn. Her eyes were wide, but she smiled. She was ready for anything now. Never mind that the World was coming to an epic ending. Her boy was alive and that’s all that mattered to her.
“Okay, so we’ve got our hands full guys. Hustle!” Marilyn hit the gas. There was no time to try and think this through. They would have to charge in, head first gun’s blazing. Whatever would be would be. She just hoped that what would be would mean having everyone home for Christmas this year…
Chapter 8
It was coming back a little too quickly for them both to handle. They remembered it simultaneously as everything they did resulted in symmetry now with the circumstance that had led to their rebirth. It was almost like becoming an extension of each other. The conduit of each the other’s spirit traversing their situation and giving them each two times the strength they’d need.
Hell. How could their overly taxed minds deal with the imagery? They were already faced with gearing up for a war where they’d both be outgunned a legion to one.
Nick paused in the midst of digging various shielding trenches out of the Lab’s ashes. He studied Alex with an apologetic grin. It had been his fault he’d seen the Pit. He’d roped him into sacrificial death, even though he was the one that had sworn to protect him over the years. Alex smiled, tossed his shovel in the hole, and went to his side.
“Don’t do that. We did what we had to do. I had a choice. It’s not like you could have made me.”
“I know, but the cost.”
“Ah, it’s nothing.”
