“Dad,” Pax says. “We’ll know for sure tomorrow if the aliens have anything to do with the quakes. If someone discovers a hole in the morning, we can be pretty certain they dug it and whatever technology they’re using is causing the tremors.”
“I know, son,” Dad says, sounding tired. “I know.”
We wait for another half hour, and when no aftershocks occur, we go back inside. It’s after four a.m. and none of us has gotten much sleep this week. I was eager to return to school in the morning, but I’m not sure I’ll want to after this. I lie down, fully expecting to say awake the rest of the night.
To my surprise, I wake up to the shriek of the alarm clock.
~~~~~
Pax drives us to school. I miss my little car, but I’m grateful for a brother who’s willing to drive me places. My leg is fine, my face shows no signs of bruising, and I feel surprisingly chipper after last night’s quake. Even the pain of my bruised ribs is barely noticeable.
Pastor John calls my name in the hallway before I can get to class. He strides down the hall toward me, eyes crinkled with his usual smile. “Sky, do you have a few minutes? I need to see you in my office.”
I follow him wondering what he could need. We walk in and I’m surprised but pleased to see Jewel and Storm there. I pass the headmaster’s desk and move to where a couch and two chairs face a brick fireplace on the opposite side. Pax follows us in and takes a seat on the couch next to Storm. He makes space for me between them. Max comes in last and grabs a chair from in front of the desk. Max?
Pastor John leans forward, clasps his hands in his lap and says, “You boys have been working on a special project for me since the morning after the first quake hit our area. Jewel was with you yesterday, and some of you know more than others. It’s time to get all of you on the same page.
“Four nights ago, on the same day as your accident, Sky, Blue Mountain was at the epicenter of a minor earthquake. It happened in the middle of the night and most people didn’t feel it. Coral Fletcher, who keeps track of such things, says it was a magnitude 3.9. A slightly stronger quake, measuring 4.2, occurred the next night, around the same time. A magnitude 4.9 quake hit on the third night.”
“It woke me up at 4:30 in the morning,” Jewel tells us.
“I think we all felt that one,” Pastor John continues. “And then last night, we were hit again, only this one registered at 6.0. They’re getting stronger and more dangerous every night. I assumed, of course, that the artifact is becoming more unstable, but something else has made me question that assumption.”
“Artifact?” Max, who’d been slouching in his chair, straightens up. This is something no one has told him about. The feeling he projects is not the curiosity of someone wanting to learn, but something more sinister. His eagerness revolts me. Pax watches my face and sends soothing waves my way.
Pastor John ignores his question and continues, “This morning I received a call from Sheriff Green. After checking his house for damage and finding none, Hunter Smith went outside to do his warm-up exercises in the back yard, just as he does every morning. When he stumbled on a crack that must have been caused by the tremor the night before, he followed it into the woods and found a hole about six feet in diameter. He dropped a lit flashlight into it and says it never hit bottom, at least as far as he can tell. They might have broken through this time, and we’re afraid they may have found the artifact.”
“Hold on a minute,” Max interrupts. “What’s all this talk about an artifact? Who might have found it and why do they want it? Are they the same things that attacked Storm two weeks ago?”
“Patience, Max,” says Pastor John. “I’ll get to all of that after we figure out what our next step is. I promise, after I dismiss these kids to class, I’ll tell you everything.”
I don’t like the sound of that. Does he mean everything unedited, or edited? What does Max have to do with our task? Will he keep the secret, or will he tell Marla and his unruly buddies? I don’t trust Max.
“I think it’s time for us to speak with the Watchers again.” I watch Max’s face as I make the suggestion. I wonder if they’ll meet with us if he’s there, too.
Storm agrees. “They’ll know if anyone or anything is threatening the artifact, and they can tell us what to do.”
“I’ll contact Sequoia. She communicates with them regularly and will tell us what they think. And now you four get to class. I’ll fill Max in when you’re gone.” Pastor John dismisses us. Pax picks up on my worry, but this time there’s no comfort from him. He’s worried, too.
My brother says nothing as he walks me to my class but I sense his unease. “What are you thinking?” I know I’m prodding but he’s used to it.
“Sky, you don’t trust Max, either, do you? I wonder what Pastor John is doing?”
“I have a feeling he’s giving him the benefit of the doubt. He’s known him practically all his life, hasn’t he? Maybe there’s more to Max than we know.”
“You would know better than anyone the kind of vibes he gives off. He and Marla are up to no good.”
I have to agree with him, but Pastor John doesn’t strike me as someone who can’t read people. Pax is right. Our headmaster is up to something, too.
I finish my homework in our free period at the end of the day and head out to Pax’s car as soon as the bell rings, but it isn’t in the parking lot. I’ll bet he’s running another errand and forgot that he’s my ride home.
“Sky!” I hear Jewel call and turn around. She’s in the next row, holding the passenger door to her green SUV open.
“You’re riding with me. Your mom invited me to stay for supper, and then we have training. Are you coming?”
As soon as I buckle in, I sense that she’s disturbed about something. “What’s bothering you?” I ask, and she doesn’t seem a bit surprised that those are my first words to her since our meeting this morning.
“Other than nightly earthquakes, someone poking holes in the earth, alien attacks, Storm’s injury and now yours, and the fact we can’t seem to escape that we’re expected to fix the world, you mean? Other than that, nothing’s bothering me.”
The absurdity strikes us at the same time, and we start laughing. Each time the laughter dies out, one of us says, “Other than…” and adds something new. By the time we get to my house, we’re in tears from laughing so hard. I sense that we’re close to hysteria, and one more “other than” might tip us over the edge.
TWENTY-THREE
We’re still eating meals that were brought to us after my accident, or should I say incident. The industrial sized freezer in the basement is packed with them, and Mom figures she won’t have to cook for at least a month. She adds a fresh salad to the reheated lasagna, and Jewel and I dig in.
Pax and Storm come home halfway through our meal, and Mom gets plates ready for them. They’re too busy eating to talk, so we still know nothing about their errand. Judging by the discussion we had this morning with Pastor John, I assume it had to do with the hole in Hunter Smith’s woods.
After supper, Storm cleans up with practiced ease, and we enjoy the spectacle of dishes floating through the air, dipping under the faucet that turned on all by itself, and neatly stacking themselves in the dishwasher. I secretly wish I had gotten his particular gift. Life would be so much easier.
It feels good to participate in training again. I help Jewel practice her forms and teach her the next one. Each form, or kata, builds upon the last, and it takes time to master them and earn new belts. Jewel is strong and quick, and Dad, rather Sensei, is pleased with her progress.
We take a water break and watch the boys spar. They’ve been trained in different forms of martial arts. I recognize my brother’s offensive movements, but not Storm’s lightning quick responses. He manages to turn the tables, and Pax is forced to defend himself. Sensei calls the match; the boys bow, grab their towels and take the bottles of water we hand them.
“I wouldn’t normally do this,” Sensei says
, nodding his thanks to Jewel for the water she offers him. “Storm has picked up some interesting moves in mixed martial arts training. He’s agreed to show us what we’re not familiar with, and is willing to learn from us, as well. It’s highly unusual to mix disciplines, but as he says,” he gives a nod to Storm, “if his life or someone he cares about is threatened, all bets are off.”
I’m thrilled to hear this. Dad has always been a stickler for the purity of Shotokan. This departure must mean he’s impressed by Storm’s moves, or maybe it’s just that he’s impressed with Storm. I tune my senses to Storm’s and feel his satisfaction. I wonder if Jewel sees a difference in his aura.
~~~~~
We usually go our separate ways right after training, but Dad sits us down on the mats. He looks serious. “It’s time that you kids stay close to each other when you’re away from the safety of your home and school.”
I feel Storm bristle at this. “With all due respect, Sensei,” he says. “I’d rather be able to go my own way, as I’ve done for years now.”
“Noted,” Dad says. “However, you were attacked not once, but twice. You weren’t alone either time, but those with you were unable to help you. By staying close, you’ll learn how your gifts can be used to complement and enhance each other. You’ll be watching out for each other, and protecting each other. It has nothing to do with any weakness on your part, or on the part of any of you.
“When Sky was attacked she was alone. Could her injuries have been prevented if one or more of you had been with her? We can’t know, of course, but we want you to avoid being alone until all this is resolved.”
“My bike doesn’t have a back seat for a passenger,” Storm objects. His excuse is lame and he knows it.
“Then you and your bike will ride alongside someone driving a car. It’s not forever, Storm.”
Jewel is chewing her bottom lip, and I feel impatience mixed with a little excitement coming from her. I resolve to ask her about it later.
Before we can talk, she says she needs to get home and Pax follows her in his car. Mom and I settle in to watch the news.
*****
Breaking News: “An outbreak of twisters destroyed homes and businesses from Texas to Tennessee last night. At least three were determined to be rare F5 tornadoes with winds topping three hundred miles per hour and leaving massive paths of destruction. The number of casualties is still unknown.”
“Locally, residents of Blue Mountain, North Carolina, were shaken last night by a fourth earthquake in as many nights, this one measuring a magnitude 6.0 on the Richter scale. The tremors have residents concerned that another might hit tonight. Officials are urging people to be calm, and to seek safety outside if it happens again. There has been little damage reported.” – Kyle Johnson reporting for Cherokee Nation News.”
*****
Reports of insane weather events and natural disasters take up more and more of the news every day. I’ve even heard reports of UFO sightings and more strange sounds in the atmosphere aired on national news.
Jewel has been looking into how these events have increased in number and intensity over the last seventeen years, but the whole idea that our beautiful planet is sick disturbs me too much. If I could, I’d rather ignore it. Ignorance is bliss, they say.
I hug Mom and go to bed fully dressed so I’m not caught off guard if the ground moves again.
TWENTY-FOUR
There was no quake last night. I slept soundly, for once, which has me awake and ready to go when Pax and I leave early to meet Jewel at her house. I decide to ride along with her while my brother follows us in his car.
As soon as we buckle in and Jewel turns out onto the main road I find I can’t hold my tongue any longer.
“Okay,” I say in my most no-nonsense voice. “Give it up, Jewel. You have something on your mind and I want to know what it is.”
“I can’t keep any secrets from you, can I?” She pretends to pout, but I feel the excitement she’s trying to suppress. She checks her mirror and I know she sees Pax behind us. I sense her interest in him.
“Nope,” I say. “So spill it.”
“First promise you won’t tell the boys just yet.” I promise, but mentally cross my fingers. It will depend on what she says. She continues, “See this wristband?” She holds out her arm with the fitness monitor. Naturally, I’ve noticed it, and I’ve wondered why she taps it so often. I had thought it must be a nervous habit.
“What about it?” I ask.
“It’s one of Dad’s inventions. My parents and I each have one, and it allows us to speak to each other telepathically.”
“Do you mean like the Watchers? How is that possible?” I think about having my parents in my head all the time and add, “Aren’t you invading each other’s privacy?”
“No, Silly. That would be awful. We call each other using a code. If someone isn’t available, they tap that they’re busy. We have to answer every call in order to let the caller know we aren’t unconscious or worse, even if it’s to decline.”
“What if you’re sleeping?”
“It’s also a fitness monitor and registers when you sleep. It sounds complicated, but it’s really easy to use.”
“So, is your Dad marketing this? He could be a bazillionaire with an invention like this.”
“He won’t. Imagine if the wrong people get hold of it. With some modifications they could use it for spying or, even worse, mind control. It has to be kept a closely guarded secret.” Jewel spins it around on her wrist. It looks loose.
“Why are you telling me about it?” I feel her excitement rise and it worries me.
“He’s talked to your parents and Storm’s family, and they’ve agreed that he should develop one for each of you, too.” So that’s what she’s excited about. I feel a little uneasy. Do I want my family to have access to my thoughts?
“How do you keep them from reading your thoughts?”
“They only hear what you think to them, like speech. When you’re done talking, you press on the face of the wristband and end the conversation. It’s just the same as if you were talking normally.”
I grow silent as I think about the significance of having mental conversations with my parents. What if I forget to end the conversation and they overhear thoughts I don’t want to share? I’m not so sure this is a good idea until Jewel says, “We four will be able to talk to each other, too. We wouldn’t have to stay as close physically if we can instantly call for help when we need it. Storm should like that idea.”
It’s sounding better. Considering the recent attacks, the earthquakes and those mysterious holes, I can see where this might come in handy in an emergency.
“When will your Dad have them available?”
“That’s the thing, Sky. The interface is really complex, and it’ll take time for him to tie all the threads together. Morse code is what we use now, but that won’t work in our connection to each other. We need something that will link us instantly, and he’s working on developing that code, too.”
Jewel is still excited, but the tension of having to keep it all to herself has eased. She’s given it to me, instead.
“When are you planning to tell the boys?”
“When we know for sure that it’ll work. Why get their hopes up if it can’t happen? I shouldn’t have told you, either, but you have a way of drawing me out.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I wish I hadn’t pressured you into telling me. What makes you think I can keep a secret from my brother? He’ll sense it.”
We park next to Pax’s SUV and Storm pulls up in a black, slightly dented pickup.
I get out and ask through his open window, “New truck?”
“New for me,” he answers. He opens the door and hops out, trying not to look pleased. I feel his pleasure, though. He doesn’t fool me at all.
“It beats riding a motorcycle in the winter,” Pax observes. He walks around the truck, admiring it and commenting on the tires and rims; boys and their toys.
<
br /> Jewel and I turn away and head toward the school. Max and his Lost Boys crow and strut by the front door. It’s like watching a twisted version of Peter Pan. Marla leans against the wall with her arms crossed and her narrowed eyes staring at us. Doesn’t she ever blink? She makes my skin crawl.
TWENTY-FIVE
PAX
“Nice truck. It’s funny you didn’t mention it yesterday when Dad suggested we stay close.” I’d already known about the truck, of course, but I didn’t want to call him out on it in front of the group. “You don’t have an extra seat on your dirt bike. That’s rich.”
He throws a light punch at my arm. “Yeah, thanks for not saying anything. It didn’t work, anyway.”
Storm and I skipped last period yesterday to meet Wolf at the car lot. He helped Storm pick out the truck, opting for strength and the quality of the engine rather than beauty. I dropped my scent guard and sniffed for rust or leaks and was surprised to find none. It has dents, but in my opinion, they give it character. There’s no point in buying a brand new work truck unless you have a business that demands it. This pickup will come in handy when we explore the latest borehole in Hunter Smith’s woods.
It seems that the aliens used some kind of laser to cut the circular holes in the ground, given the smooth sides. The question is, which of the two races did it? My bets are on the Dracans. Wouldn’t the Allarans already know where the artifacts are?
After Storm and Wolf purchased the truck, we swung by Mr. Smith’s place. By the time we got there it was too dark to set up any safety measures.
If this is deeper than the others, as Mr. Smith seems to think, we’ll need a heavy duty winch, longer cables, and who knows what else. Max can get the equipment with his dad’s help, and Storm’s truck can be used to anchor the winch and cable. We should be able to get to it this afternoon.
Terra's Call (TetraSphere Book 1) Page 9
