Lightning

by Bonnie S. Calhoun

  “I’ve got some serious updates to go over.” Taraji, dressed in a black, one-piece, high-tech fiber uniform, openly displayed her tactical readiness equipment and weapons. Since passengers traveling by military JetTrans were accustomed to security and navigator personnel, it didn’t raise any concerns.

  “I received a similar update from the pilot. We need to compare in private,” Glade said.

  “We’ve got Council authorization to use the area,” Taraji said. She turned to glance at the passengers toward the front, taking note of each individual before turning back. “Some old enemies have heard of your return, and they’re pretty anxious to get hold of your research materials—and Selah.”

  Glade firmed his jaw and pulled the satchel closer. “How could they know this fast?”

  “Baltimore. There are open-end contracts for blood hunter information. People are willing to trade information for bio-coin every day of the week.” Taraji continued to watch the incoming crowd and note where they sat. Bodhi wondered if she actually remembered each citizen.

  “I’d be a lot happier if we could move to the back before it gets too full in here.” Taraji motioned them toward the doorway.

  Bodhi relented. His eagerness to know about any danger directed at Selah overrode his desire for his own physical comfort. He followed Glade. Taraji closed the doors behind them, which activated lights and air filtration. Bodhi welcomed the rush of fresh air.

  The fusion jets cycled up from a roar to a high-pitched whine and then beyond the scope of human hearing. A soft hum radiated throughout the cabin. Bodhi closed his eyes and tried to hide his death grip on the chair, waiting for a repeat of the recently familiar occurrence of telescoping vision and light-headedness.

  Liftoff. The JetTrans leveled off and shot forward. Nothing. Relieved to have no out-of-control senses, Bodhi opened his eyes and glanced around.

  Taraji stared at him. She turned away and rested her right boot on the lower rung of the closest chair. “There’s good news and bad news. Good news is we’re fortunate that we’re not taking the route to the south across the Delaware Bay waters. Travelers going that way have had increasing hostile encounters with marauding bands. Since most TicCity travel has abandoned the route, there’s little to no security enforcement patrolling that way.”

  Bodhi frowned. That route had been his first choice several times, but thankfully Glade had outvoted him.

  “I knew that before, but it’s good to get confirmation on the point.” Glade was rummaging in his satchel while holding a single rolled map under his chin. Bodhi felt the punch of his comment.

  Taraji continued. “The bad news is the recent proximity of both splinter groups along this northern route. We’re going to run into them on this and any subsequent trips. I guess the only thing that could make it worse would be if we had Selah along for the ride.”

  Bodhi looked at Glade. “Where is Selah? The last I saw she was storming from your teaching theater.”

  Glade smiled. “She’s so engrossed in Repository files, I can count on her being fused to that building for the foreseeable future.”

  “If she’s in greater danger, shouldn’t Jaenen Malik be guarding her as you hired him to do, rather than searching for her family?” Bodhi didn’t like the idea of Malik spending more time around Selah, but the alternative of her being kidnapped or hurt was even less likable.

  “I spoke with Jaenen while you were collecting our supplies,” Glade said. “He’ll stay in TicCity to keep an eye on Selah until we return.”

  Bodhi rolled his shoulders and locked his hands together to stretch. After the briefing, Taraji had returned to the passenger area as a first defender if trouble appeared. He’d survived working on the map anomalies with Glade for the last half hour, and even in the same room, they hadn’t come to blows. Progress.

  “This packet from Treva’s uncle Charles is a treasure of historical information, but some of it doesn’t make sense. It would be helpful if you actually told me what we’re looking for,” Bodhi said.

  “You’ll know it when you see it. Ganston was thorough, so he must know the answers are there. His journal is written in a code for those who understand, but to everyone else it appears as gibberish.” Glade continued working the magnifying glass, studying minute details in the mountains of an old linen map. “I can make out the Stone Braide symbol in this same mountain range on three of these maps.”

  Bodhi shifted in his seat. “That’s where Treva’s uncle built his colony. He found a stone symbol at that location. Remember, we saw it there on our way north.”

  “It lines up with these maps. They were drawn more than a hundred years ago,” Glade said. “But there’s still a missing code to decipher the symbols correctly. If we can find it, we’ll have the answers to the West.”

  “What do we do when we get to Stone Braide?” Bodhi knew there were no cities there, just forests and rock. Glade was being secretive again.

  “I’ve got a plan to triangulate these maps. Once we have the location . . . I hope we’ve figured out what to do by then,” Glade said.

  Bodhi stared at him. He suddenly understood. Glade wasn’t being secretive—he didn’t know the answers. That angered Bodhi even more. Glade should at least be honest with him.

  From sitting on the hard chair so long, the backs of both his legs had gone numb. Bodhi struggled to stand up, making the blood rush back to his extremities. “What time do we arrive?”

  Glade looked at his ComLink. “About fifteen minutes.”

  Bodhi straightened. He hadn’t noticed any instability or queasiness during the flight. Maybe he’d beat whatever Glade and the others thought was going to befall him. His body could be healing itself because his head had cleared, even about the future. “I want to take a shift protecting Selah.”

  “You’re not agile enough to be on her detail, and you’re not good enough for her as a man.” Glade spoke matter-of-factly and didn’t even lift his attention from the map.

  “Who do you think you are?” Bodhi began to pace. Heat rose across his torso and down his arms. “What gives you the right to dictate the rest of her life after being a missing father for eighteen years?”

  “Because I sacrificed everything for her.” Glade’s face reddened as quickly as his glance hardened.

  Bodhi stood in front of Glade. “From what I hear, you sacrificed nothing. You spent eighteen years in the Mountain, deserted Pasha, and left Selah to be raised by another man.”

  Glade rose from his seat and stared down his nose. “You’d do much better to mind your manners, or else—”

  “Or else what?” Dark brooding colors swirled before his eyes. Anger tried to overtake him. Bodhi could see it happening, and he fought to overcome the colors. Just like before. Some of his sordid past remained crystal clear in the particles of his fading memories. If he concentrated on them, he could keep them from dimming. He couldn’t afford to not remember.

  Glade’s fist came up. It hung in the air for a moment.

  Bodhi refused to flinch. He was not going to be under this man’s command. They were going to be equals or enemies.

  Glade looked at his raised fist as though he didn’t recognize it. He pounded the table, then swept the surface clean of maps and charts. “I can’t fail at this. I’ve failed at the most important times of my existence, and I can’t fail at this!”

  “Is this another ploy to manipulate me away from Selah? After all, you’re Glade. The oldest and best, the almighty ruler of the—”

  “The man ruined because of love,” Glade said. “You should be glad I’m relieving you of that burden sooner rather than two failures later.”

  Bodhi glared. “How were you ruined because of love? You weren’t there. I’d say if anyone was ruined, from the stories Selah told me, it would be Pasha.”

  “I’m 150 years old. Do you think Pasha’s the only woman I ever loved?”

  Taraji burst into the room and Bodhi jerked his head in her direction. She talked rapidly with he
r right hand held to the ComLink in her ear. “Tell Wilmington Council to send a squad and hope you find them before we land. With all the citizens in here, if we have to engage, it could be a bloodbath.” In her other hand she carried a pair of laser darts and leg harnesses. She motioned to Bodhi and tossed them to him as she continued the animated conversation with her earpiece.

  Bodhi and Glade scrambled into the equipment, both checking the loads and arming the weapons. The JetTrans thrusters whined. Forward motion ceased, and the transport moved toward the ground as Glade snatched up the maps and loaded them securely in his satchel.

  Taraji tapped off her ear com. “Dispatch is thinking it’s too much of a coincidence that the security team for this depot had to be siphoned off for actions in other areas of the city not normally considered criminal hot spots.” She checked the load on her weapon. “Your bags are outside this door. I suggest we exit by the cargo door in the back and keep any activity away from citizens.”

  To punctuate her sentence, the JetTrans touched down. The vibration of the opening cargo door rattled the wall panel. Bodhi moved toward the door with Glade behind him.

  Taraji, hand on her holstered weapon, stepped in front of him and smiled. “I’m your navigator for this trip, so I get to go first.” She slid open the door and looked left and right, then at the civilian seating. Citizens rose and gathered their belongings. Taraji motioned Bodhi and Glade out of the room to the cargo door on the left of the meeting area.

  Bodhi hooked his pack across his shoulders and quickly canvassed the outside area. Not waiting for Taraji, he grabbed the frame and swung himself down from the JetTrans onto the rocrete surface of the landing station. The noontime sun lent its angled rays to ordinary items, making them look sinister. His heart fist-pounded his chest. He crouched, moving left, allowing the JetTrans wing to give him extra cover.

  Taraji and Glade dropped down beside him. On his next sweep of the landscape, Bodhi glanced at Taraji. Her posturing was stern, but he saw the smile in her eyes. “I’ve instructed the pilot to take the civilians out the other side and away from this transport to the storage units. We need to get to the second building on the other side of this landing area. It’s the security center they had to leave unmanned because of the last outbreak fifteen minutes ago. A security team will pick us up and get us to the caravan depot on time.”

  Bodhi followed the gesture of her hand, but just past her head, a bush pulled to the side. He motioned to Taraji and Glade. They ducked behind a tall rocrete wind barrier and drew their weapons.

  The bush sprang back into place, and several seconds later four men turned the far corner and approached using the pathway directly in front of the bushes. They continued to walk past the transport in the opposite direction. Bodhi’s chest started to unclench.

  A sound caught his attention.

  Bodhi and Taraji spun at the same instant. With the sun momentarily in his eyes, a laser zipped past Bodhi’s head. He jerked and spun around in a lower position, firing several heated exchanges with two additional men. Bodhi dropped one of them with a shot that exploded into several starbursts, indicating the man had been carrying explosives. He dodged and fired at the other man, who ducked behind a tree along the walkway as Taraji shot one man hiding on the left. Another man shot at her but missed. Glade swung around the other side of the barrier, aimed, and shot the one firing at Taraji. A laser shot deflected from the wind barrier and blasted Glade’s weapon from his hand.

  “We need to make a run for the building,” Taraji yelled to Bodhi over the laser fire. She wrapped a quick pouch bandage on Glade’s bleeding, burnt hand.

  “Glade needs to go between us, and we can tag-team, running and firing,” Bodhi said. Taraji nodded.

  They stayed low behind the wind barrier and snaked their way among the trees and across the landing pad to the edge of the first building. A minute passed with no laser fire. Bodhi breathed easier.

  Two more shots blazed from a man to their right, one deflecting off the edge of the building, the other striking a tree, leaving a smoldering fist-sized mark. Streaking along the side of the building, Bodhi followed the traces from the other weapon and got a direct sight on the assailant. He charged to a stop, took aim, and downed the enemy with a laser to the knee. The man rolled a couple of times and came to rest against a tree, his leg smoldering.

  Taraji followed the one who had wounded Glade as he ducked around the second building. She slipped around the side, with Glade and Bodhi bringing up the rear. Taraji dropped the man with two shots. They turned in time to hear the other one running away across the landing pad. Bodhi, Glade, and Taraji stormed into the security building and sealed the door.

  Bodhi leaned against the wall after the door closed. The right side of his face, still warm from the close laser miss, reminded him of his mortality.

  Was this level of danger going to be a regular part of his life from now on?

  His insides felt odd, like a clock was ticking . . .

  8

  Selah rode in silence for the first hour, still trying to understand the earthquake. It had felt and tasted real, from the glass embedded in her hands to the grit in her throat. But she kept silent, fearful Treva or Cleon would think she was ill and not allow her to continue. She’d have to talk about it sooner or later, but how would she explain something with no evidence? Maybe she was going crazy. After all, she thought she’d moved an equipment rack by yelling at it. And then there was that weird throbbing in her hands. Did all this strangeness have something to do with the lightning flashes?

  She looked up from fiddling with her fingers. Treva stared at her from the front seat. “Are you all right? You seem a little too deep in thought. There’s all this beautiful scenery going by and you’re missing it.”

  “I’m fine, just tired. I got up too early this morning.” Selah feigned a yawn.

  She glanced at her surroundings, mostly forest on both sides with a few grassy clearings scattered about. They followed a worn hard-pack road. The AirWagon traveled on an energy current about three feet above the surface, which turned out to be a good thing because they’d recently passed a few spots with trees fallen across the road or boulders obstructing their passage. If this were an ordinary horse-drawn wagon, they’d surely have had to stop and clear the obstacles.

  A ways back, off in the distance, she’d seen the scarred, overgrown remnants of high-rise buildings, places old folks once called concrete jungles. This haggard road probably served as the main artery between those dead cities. She peered over Cleon’s shoulder at the navigational compass. With its bio-computer map overlays, she thought it might tell what cities they had once been.

  Cleon glanced back at her and smiled. He had a natural ability with this kind of machine since he used slightly smaller Mountain AirStreams on his farm outside TicCity. “This kind of high-tech equipment could increase the production on my farm,” he said.

  Selah snickered. “And it doesn’t hurt that it has comfortable seats and a magnetic force field that keeps the wind from whipping our hair around, which is a decidedly good thing since you’re traveling close to forty miles an hour.”

  Jaenen leaned over to tap Cleon’s shoulder. “Folks, I think we have a problem.” He turned in his seat to look behind them.

  “What’s wrong?” Cleon glanced about in quick succession.

  “Those two tree blockages we just passed weren’t natural. I saw fresh chop marks on one, and the other wasn’t rotted or hit by lightning. No reason it fell without help.” Jaenen swiveled his seat to face the side panel that stowed their weapons. “And the boulder—there wasn’t any spot on that hillside where it could have come from. It was rolled here from elsewhere.”

  “What do you think we should do?” Treva’s glance skittered over every tree and bush.

  “We’re probably going to have a fight. We should arm ourselves.” Jaenen reached for the panel.

  Cleon cycled down the thruster, and the AirWagon slowed and drifted to the grou
nd.

  “No! Don’t stop!” Jaenen lunged to push the controls forward.

  From trees on both sides of the road, multiple bodies swung out in front of them on ropes and twisted vines. Selah yelped and grabbed onto her seat, assessing the number of attackers.

  “It’s an ambush. Punch it!” Treva yelled as Cleon scrambled to get the thruster reengaged. Doing an instant stop-start had created a magnetic mislock. The thrusters revved but refused to engage.

  A grubby male with unkempt hair and horridly dirty fingernails, his smell preceding him, clawed his way over the side of the AirWagon next to Selah and raised an old-fashioned wood-handled grip rifle, pointing it at Cleon. “I would raise my hands in the air if I were you, boy.”

  Cleon hunched his shoulders and slowly raised his hands from the controls.

  The man spoke in a heavy Southern drawl Selah didn’t recognize, but her immediate concern was moving away from the rancid smell before she lost the lunch they had eaten awhile back. She edged closer to Jaenen on the other side.

  Another bandit with a patch on his right eye reached over the side and grabbed her, his fingers entwining her hair. “Where you goin’, pretty lady?”

  Selah screamed and clawed at his hand. Her training kicked in and her mind blocked the sensation of pain. She planted her feet and turned her body, preparing to give him a sharp blow to the throat.

  Jaenen shot from his seat and punched the guy in the face. Spittle and blood flew from the man’s mouth and nose as his head jerked back. He released Selah and fell to the ground, clutching his nose.

  Adrenaline coursed through her body. Selah dropped to the floor of the AirWagon and scrambled away from the partition, knowing she could easily be caught again.