Sheriff Green looks apologetic and starts to say something when I spot a dark shape rise above the level of the window. The valley is eighty feet below; there can’t be anything out there. I jump up, knocking the chair to the floor, and yell.
“What is that!?”
SIX
The sheriff reaches for his sidearm and whips around to the window. An enormous black aircraft takes aim and shoots a beam of light at us.
“Drop!” he shouts.
The house shakes in an explosion of light that dissipates as it hits the window. Dad reaches for me, but Pax is already in motion, bent over and running toward the pantry at the back of the kitchen. He has Sky by one hand and grabs mine with the other, propelling us along. Mom has run ahead and is holding the door open. Sky’s mom is already halfway down the stairs, while the men stay behind to fight. I pull my hand away from Pax’s and look back before I dive into the pantry. What I see stops me in my tracks.
The light beam didn’t penetrate the window and the men stand behind the table as if mesmerized. Sheriff Green has his gun in his hand, but isn’t firing. The men look stunned.
The black shape hovers in front of the windows and fills the view with its bulk. It must be more than fifty feet across and it’s made of some pitted, non-reflective metal similar to a stealth fighter. The front of the ship slopes up to a set of viewports and I get a glimpse of two strange-looking faces. Nozzles and a series of lights line the edge of the thing and a cluster of turrets sits on top, pointing toward the sky.
One nozzle that’s aimed at the window begins to glow and Dad shouts, “Jewel! Get downstairs!”
At the same time, a flash of silver drops from the sky and slams into the black craft on the left, and another hits it on the right. It wobbles and I notice that it’s triangular. Several turrets swivel toward the attackers. A third silver object beams a light down on top of it and it slips below the window. I watch the three aircraft follow it down. A fourth zooms into view and hovers where the triangle had been. At least as large as the triangle, its flat bottom and dome-shaped top are unmistakable. This, or one of the others, is my Sentinel. A row of viewports stretches across the dome and I see faces. These aren’t strange at all. They have eyes like mine. It slowly floats upward until it clears the top window and then streaks away quicker than I can follow.
“It’s disappeared,” exclaims the Sheriff. I watch my Sentinel take its place in the sky as if nothing has happened. The other three that took down the triangular craft join the first. As usual, I am the only one who sees them. They must be cloaked again. Wait, four of them? I gather there’s one for each of us, Sky, Pax and me. So who is tied to the fourth?
Sheriff Green and Mr. Fletcher run to the window and look down into the valley. The sheriff is on his radio, calling for backup. I hear him direct his deputies to the site below our cliff. It surprises me that he doesn’t leave. Dad folds me into a tight hug.
Sky follows Pax back into the kitchen. Our mothers stand by the door, ready to scramble downstairs at the first sign of threat. Mom asks, “Jewel, is this what you’ve been seeing all these years?”
“Yes, Mom,” I answer, “the silver one. You finally saw it uncloaked?”
“It’s like the one that abducted me,” she says.
The doorbell rings and Dad opens the door for Pastor John Clemente. I wonder what the school headmaster is doing here. Did he witness the battle, too? Without my glasses, I see the blue aura surrounding his body. It turns bright yellow around his head. He wears his light brown hair long and pulled back into a ponytail, at least what’s left of it. The hairline has receded and left a large bald spot right on top. A flame flickers and dances just above that spot.
As soon as Pastor John is settled, a loud banging reverberates through the house. Someone insistently pounds on the front door. Or is it something? Are the attackers trying to get in?
“Storm’s coming.” Sky’s voice is calm, but I see her shudder. Waves of rage and deep grief clench my stomach. I have an urge to scream, but I know Sky is projecting the feelings. She’s anything but calm. Pax touches her arm, works his magic and both of us relax. Maybe I’m becoming more sensitive because this time I know the feelings are not hers.
“If it’s anything like what we just witnessed,” I say, “then we’re in for some rough weather.”
The twins and I hang back while our mothers head to the office downstairs. Wolf opens the door and a boy pushes past him and runs to the windows. I see him clearly for the first time. Bright red waves slashed by muddy streaks shoot out from him in every direction. I thought Sky’s aura was wild, but this is like nothing I’ve ever imagined. It’s more than angry.
This is the boy who’s been hanging out with Pax at school. I watch him pace in front of the windows and unfamiliar electricity courses through my body. The soft curls of his layered hair are not black, but vibrant with streaks of blues and purples. He’s tall and athletic and full of an energy that excites me. I hope his aura will change as he calms down, but for now, Storm is overloaded with rage.
SEVEN
STORM DARROCK RYDER
I can’t believe what I just saw. It looked like the same ship that killed my parents. I was sure I’d see it crashed at the base of the cliff after those silver things attacked it, but all I see below is the forest.
Wolf puts his arm around my shoulders and tugs me away from the window. “There’s nothing to be done, Storm. I’m glad you’re here. We have a lot to discuss with the others.”
I have an urge to hurl something through the huge windows. A stack of books next to a brown recliner rises a few inches above the floor, but I quickly set it down. I take three deep breaths, determined to calm down. The rage gathers and retreats to the place I’ve created for it, deep inside, where it smolders and grows hot and waits for the next eruption. It’s under control – for now.
Pax comes over to me and lightly taps my arm. “Are you okay, man?”
“Yeah. Just great,” I snap. He doesn’t know my history, so I ease up on him.
“Thanks.”
Wolf gestures toward the kitchen. “Let’s all head down to the office. Sequoia will be here soon, and we can get settled and caught up until then.”
That’s when I notice the two girls in the kitchen. Pax has told me a little about his sister, the cute redhead, but I know nothing about the dark-haired girl beside her. She has the eyes, and must be one of us. I make a mental note to check her out later. Right now there’s business to discuss.
We head down the not-so-secret stairs at the back of the pantry. Mr. Adam’s office is the first door on the right. A mahogany desk sits at one end of the spacious room. It’s surrounded on three sides by floor-to-ceiling book shelves and a wall of security monitors. A conference table and chairs takes up the rest of the space. Mrs. Adams watches the monitors and spots Sequoia’s pickup pull up in the driveway. She hurries upstairs to let her in.
Sequoia brings freshly-baked cookies and Mrs. Adams places a fresh pot of coffee on the table. As impatient as I am to get some information, I’m thankful for the cookies and grab a few. Sequoia shoots me a look, and then smiles.
Mr. and Mrs. Adams share their story while we eat. I watch Jewel, who’s obviously heard it already. Her large turquoise eyes and fair skin make a beautiful contrast to her long hair, the color of raven feathers in the sun, black and iridescent with dark rainbows. The colors shimmer as she moves, even in this light. My thoughts wander into dangerous territory when I look at her full lips, curved slightly upward as if she’s about to smile. When she looks at me, she doesn’t look at me, but around me. What does she see?
Mr. Fletcher clears his throat and starts speaking when Mr. Adams finishes. “Coral and I were in Alaska about eighteen years ago, doing some investigating of Inuit claims that the sun’s position had changed and was causing a dangerous warming trend. My specialty is climatology, and Coral is a geophysicist, so NASA sent us as a team.
“It was a particularly warm Novem
ber, and our measurements proved that the sun was, indeed, rising in a location several degrees to the south. The prevailing winds, normally cold enough to freeze the ice, had changed, and the warmth threatened the Inuit’s way of life. It seemed the Earth’s axis had shifted significantly.
“Coral had a second agenda, which was to find out if tectonic plate movement might be the origin of mysterious sounds being recorded all over the world.”
Sky and Jewel exchange a look and nod at each other. They know something about the sounds.
“Fault lines crisscross Alaska north of the Denali Fault,” he continues, “and small earthquakes are a regular occurrence there, which made it a logical place to begin.”
Mr. Fletcher takes a sip of coffee and his wife continues the story, “We decided we might both find some answers in the Tartok Caverns, not far from the village.”
“With our guide Anik, Dylan and I approached the caverns on snowmobiles that carried us and enough equipment to stay a few days, if necessary. We carried rifles with powerful sedative darts in case of a run-in with polar bears. Anik had live ammunition.
“He was the only one to remember the events of that night, and this is how he recounted it to us. As we drove up to the caverns, Anik spotted a bright light that shouldn’t have been there. We took refuge behind an outcropping of gray ice and saw a silver craft float in the air in front of the cave entrance. The way he described it, it sounds as though it looked like the ones that attacked that triangular craft today.
“Three tall figures dressed in what looked like metallic jumpsuits appeared to be loading something into an open port at the bottom of the craft. They had no helmets or apparent breathing apparatus and all of them had white hair, but they were too far away to make out any facial features.
“They spotted us, scrambled into the craft, and maneuvered it right toward us. Before we could get to our weapons, they beamed me up into the craft and took off.
“The next morning, we woke up around a campfire no one remembered making. That day, we finished setting up instruments in the cave, but didn’t stay to explore. I felt ill and wanted to get back to the village. The local doctor examined me and determined that I was about six weeks pregnant.”
Mr. Fletcher continues, “We moved back to California when our project was completed. Paxton was born at 9:54 p.m. Pacific time on May 2, in Stanford, California. Sky arrived ten minutes later, at 10:04 p.m. In spite of their early arrival, they weighed in at just over six pounds and scored a ten out of ten on the Apgar scale.”
“Their gifts became obvious when they were toddlers,” Mrs. Fletcher says. “Pax was extremely picky about his food and hated going anywhere beyond the backyard. When he could talk, he often mentioned smells. Sky both laughed and cried easily. It seemed her emotions were all over the place until we correlated that how we felt seemed to be affecting her behavior. Children tend to be empathetic, but Sky’s empathy was extreme. Pax was, and still is, the only one who can truly calm her.”
Sky looks at her brother and I notice how blue her eyes are. I wonder if she’s as fiery as her hair. Her generous mouth curves in a smile that warms me, but I quickly dismiss it. I’m cold inside and want to keep it that way
EIGHT
I’m not surprised that Jewel’s and the twins’ moms were abducted. My mom was, too, and Sequoia tells my story.
“My sister Salali and her husband Tom Ryder lived in Tahlequah, Oklahoma, among my people, the Cherokee. She was a member of the Wolf clan, as I am, and the clan adopted Tom when she married him. She was a meteorologist who worked at the local television station. Tom was a biophysicist, and he was fascinated by crop circles. He investigated the designs that kept appearing on reservation farms, and proved by the damage done to the crops on a molecular level, that they were not the work of hoaxers. He believed that extraterrestrials used the designs to communicate, either to us or to each other.
“When Salali was two months pregnant with Storm, she left Tom absorbed in work in a circle and settled under a tree where she fell asleep. A bright light startled Tom and he looked up in time to see his wife being drawn up into a silver UFO.
“People searched extensively for her, even though few believed Tom’s story. He finally returned to the place where she’d been taken, thinking he’d search again for evidence, and found her asleep under the same tree. When she woke up, she thought she’d simply taken a little nap. She’d been gone for two days.
“Storm Ryder was born at 11:55 p.m. Central Time on May 2 in Tahlequah General Hospital, during an unseasonal series of severe storms and flooding.”
Sequoia struggles to hold back tears, and Wolf picks up the story.
“It was obvious that Storm was different from the time he was a baby. His parents often had to snatch toys out of the air. While most babies soon learn to climb out of their cribs, Storm levitated out of his. He began to use his abilities to gain advantage over other kids and had to learn to control both the telekinesis and his impulses. Tom and Salali taught him control while the tribe instilled their values in him.
“One day, when Storm was ten, Tom called us to say he’d found something significant. He’d made contact with an extraterrestrial and had information he could not talk about over the phone. He was bringing the family here, along with photos and a transcript of his conversation with the alien.
“They’d made it to our mountain when it happened. The police report said Tom had lost control of his car and plunged down a steep ravine with Salali in the passenger’s seat. Storm was thrown out before the impact. I found our nephew in the hospital that night, clutching a metal briefcase as if his life depended on it.”
I break in, “Tell them what really happened, Wolf.”
“Tom did not lose control,” Wolf continues. “Storm was playing in the back seat when a bright light suddenly flooded the car and momentarily blinded his parents. The vehicle lifted into the air, and Storm went into action. He opened the doors and attempted to lift his parents out, but he couldn’t get the seat belts undone in time. He floated out his door and his mom threw the briefcase out after him before they plummeted to their death. Storm got a good look at a dark, triangular aircraft leaving the scene. It sped away…”
I know the story, but the memory of Mom’s lovely eyes and sweet smile, and Dad’s willingness to play with and teach my friends and me, opens a part of my heart I fully intend to keep closed. It does no good to remember happier times when I have to steel myself to carry out my plans. This time I can’t seem to shut that door, although it’s been years since I learned to bury my emotions. Sadness washes over me and pain threatens to turn me into a sobbing mess. What is wrong with me?
Then I spot Sky. Tears pour down her cheeks and Pax hands her a tissue and hugs her. My sorrow immediately subsides. So that’s her gift. She projects her emotions. I wonder if she can read mine. I’ll have to be careful around this one.
Jewel asks, “What was in the briefcase? And why the emphasis on our birthdays?”
Just then Sheriff Green’s radio squawks. “Calling all units. Fight at Big Blue’s. Shots fired.”
The sheriff excuses himself and leaves in a hurry. Wolf stands up and says, “We’ve had enough for one night. We’ll take this up tomorrow after church.”
Pastor John also leaves, and everyone stands and stretches. The women clear the table and head up to the kitchen to help Mrs. Adams clean up. Sky and Pax approach me, but I’m in no mood to talk to anyone. I turn away and head up the stairs and out the front door. I may or may not be here tomorrow. I already know what the photos reveal, and Wolf has told me what the alien told my Dad. I want nothing to do with any of it, but it looks like I may not have a choice.
I kick my bike into gear and enjoy the way its roar shatters the forest quiet. When I reach the cabin, I turn on the news and settle in to wait for Wolf and Sequoia. It seems there’s more bad news every night. Something is definitely not right with the world.
*****
Breaking News: “
Hurricane Susan has intensified to a Category 5 storm with sustained winds of over 260 miles per hour, the strongest ever recorded in the Pacific. Evacuations are underway from San Diego, California, to Tijuana, Mexico. This is a massive and extremely dangerous storm, folks. If you’ve been asked or ordered to evacuate, please don’t try to ride out this storm.
“In other news, a split in the earth has formed a miniature Grand Canyon on a farm in Arizona. Ten football fields in length and fifty feet wide at its widest point, the rift appeared overnight. Authorities are baffled as to what caused it, and they’re keeping an eye on it as they’re uncertain as to whether it will continue to grow. I’m Cole Porter, reporting for News Channel Six.”
NINE
It’s nice to sleep in on Sunday morning, but I know I can’t make a habit of it. The pastor of Blue Mountain Mission Church, Mike Eaglefeather, is one of the tribal elders and Wolf’s good friend. My aunt and uncle left for church after they told me we’d head to Jewel’s house for another marathon information session this afternoon. I am not looking forward to it.
I wheel my dirt bike out of its shelter. Wolf and I restored it from the ground up after he surprised me with an old, broken down motorcycle for my sixteenth birthday. It’s a beauty, even when it’s covered in mud from one of our adventures. Right now, I just want to feel the wind in my hair and the earth under my wheels. I start the engine, kick it into gear, open the throttle, and head up to Black Bluff and the ceremonial stomping grounds. Lord, I could never get tired of this.
I feel close to God when the North Carolina woods surround me; as close as anyone who’s furious with the Creator can feel, I imagine. I rein in my thoughts and concentrate on the narrow path. There are roads that lead up to the site, but I’m an off-road kind of guy.
The path takes me past the stomping grounds and pushes farther into the woods. It ends at a cave the Cherokee have kept secret for centuries. The opening is small and hidden behind ferns and shrubs. I dismount, hide the bike behind a large rock and cover it with branches before heading into the cave with my flashlight ready.
Terra's Call (TetraSphere Book 1) Page 3
