The Riser Saga

by Becca C. Smith

“I’m okay.” my voice sounded muffled as I said this directly into his chest.

  I pulled away and gave him a reassuring smile. “I only want to tell it once. Let’s get Ryan and Nancy and get out of here.”

  Bill nodded and talked to one of the bodyguards. “We’re headed to the parking lot.”

  We made it to the hover-car without a stitch. Ryan and Nancy were waiting for us both with the same look Bill gave me before. Apparently, they were just as worried about me as I was. And rightfully so, it turned out.

  When Ryan saw me amidst the circle of guards he pushed through (or I should say he was let through, these guys were pretty impenetrable) and held me close. “We were so worried,” he whispered in my ear.

  “Really, I’m alright. Let’s just get in the car,” I said back, but I didn’t want him to let me go. As soon as he pulled away from the hug, I grabbed his hand in mine. Aaaaahhhhh. Everything good now.

  Bill sent the guards packing while we all climbed into his hover-car. “We didn’t even need them. The press was sent off campus a few minutes before Weatherby’s announcement.”

  Once we were all situated inside (I sat with Ryan in the back seat while Nancy rode shotgun), Nancy turned to me with impatient wide eyes. “Now, spill! What happened once you left the Assembly Hall? All details!”

  I told them everything that happened, from the invisible walls around the staff’s black holes, to their rotting corpses on the carpet of Weatherby’s office. I left nothing out. The three of them sat in stunned silence.

  “No wonder Weatherby was freaking.” Bill was the first one to speak.

  “That’s so gross.” Nancy was creating the visual in her head.

  “It was terrifying. I thought I was going to die.” I needed to say that out loud to make it real for me. So far the last few days felt like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

  Ryan put his arm around me and let me rest my head on his shoulder. “You’re with us now.”

  “You definitely gave Turner something to think about.” Bill shook his head in amazement.

  “You kicked his ass is what you did,” Nancy chimed in, impressed herself.

  “It wasn’t me, by the way,” Ryan said out of nowhere.

  “What do you mean it wasn’t you?” I asked.

  “Blocking off Turner’s listening devices at Nancy’s. It wasn’t me.”

  “Oh. I kind of knew that, but who did?” I wondered out loud.

  “We’ll figure it out when we get there. Maybe Jason will know.” I couldn’t help but notice the slight trill in Nancy’s voice when she mentioned Jason.

  We didn’t have to wait long. Bill pulled up to Nancy’s abode and parked his hover-car in the landing zone.

  George and Vianne walked out of the house to greet us, their faces wracked with anxiety. As we exited the car George squeezed Nancy with a hug that made her gasp for air.

  “Geez, Dad, what’s up with you?” Nancy asked as he released her.

  Before he could respond both George and Vianne hugged me within an inch of my life.

  “We’ve been sick all day worrying about you four!” Vianne said in her usual mom tone. “Get inside. We have a lot to discuss.” She looked at me pointedly.

  Uh, oh. What did Jason tell them?

  Once we were inside we all sat down in the living room. Jason was there with a mug of coffee smiling at all of us like he was in a pleasant mood. “Now don’t panic,” he started the conversation, “but I told George and Vianne here everything.”

  My face must have turned two shades whiter because Vianne reached out and grabbed my hand. (The one that wasn’t already taken by Ryan.) “It’s okay, Chelsan, we know everything and we’re not going anywhere, and neither are you. This is your new home now, permanently. No arguments, you hear me?”

  She waited for me to nod and I did. I was so surprised I couldn’t speak.

  “Before you say anything George and I have known about people with your talents for ages. Vice President Turner has been developing re-animation rituals for the last two hundred years. Of course, no one knew it was successful. The article in the Science Journal three days ago was the first proof anyone’s ever seen, until you.” Vianne squeezed my hand for reassurance.

  “How did any of this come up today?” I asked, wondering how on earth this could enter into a casual conversation.

  Jason grinned, “I was scanning the house for bugs when George caught me. He told me there was no need for that and then he showed me just about the coolest device I’d ever seen, for a reporter anyway.” Jason pulled out a glowing red ball the size of a baseball.

  Ryan whistled low. “Is that what I think it is?”

  George sat up in his seat like a bright-eyed kid being praised for his accomplishments. “What do you think it is?”

  “It looks like a SDS device, but on crack. Can I have a look?” Ryan was extremely excited by this SDS device especially when Jason handed it over to him. It was perfectly round and had its own inner glow that pulsed every few seconds or so.

  “Is this why Turner couldn’t listen in on our conversations?” I asked.

  “Precisely.” George acted as if we were in a classroom and I just gave him the correct answer.

  “You have a guarantee that it works?” Jason realized he didn’t know what happened today.

  I filled them in.

  “Oh you poor dear.” Vianne patted my hand in concern. “We always knew Geoffrey Turner was up to something. Jason, the only way to protect Chelsan is to get that man behind bars.”

  “Let’s think on this a little more before we go jumping the gun,” Jason said cautiously. “I don’t want to get any of us hurt.”

  “Shouldn’t we do something?” Bill spoke up. “Money isn’t an issue and my parents said they’d help.”

  I think Bill wanted to make it clear that he was important in this equation. I wanted to reassure him that his friendship was all I needed, but being a guy I think he needed to prove his worth in other ways.

  “First things first. I found out a few things today.” Jason leaned forward. “Most importantly, I’m pretty sure I was right about what ritual Turner and his wife used to kill you and your mother.”

  As tired as I was, this immediately piqued my interest. “Really?”

  “It’s called The Ritual of Vortex. From the fire, to the picture, to the serrated knife, to the arm slicing, all there. No one has ever proved that it has worked, it’s a myth that goes back hundreds of years which was probably why your father was able to reverse it.” Jason was growing excited as if he had been waiting all day to tell us everything.

  “What did my dad do to us? Did you find that out?” I asked, just as excited as he was.

  “That, I’m not clear on, but I think your father made it up. He must have known about the properties of The Ritual of Vortex and figured out a way to reverse it. Brilliant, actually.” Jason was impressed. “Except for the dying part, it was almost flawless.”

  Nancy smacked him on the arm.

  Jason’s face turned to me apologetically. “I didn’t mean…”

  I waved my hand for him to stop. “It’s okay. Just continue.”

  Jason cleared his throat from embarrassment. “Sorry.” He paused to gather himself, “Anyway, your dad reversed the spell but I’m assuming the mojo involved was still active after he…passed… and what made you and your mother come back to life, also gave you your gift.”

  The Ritual of Vortex. It sounded like something out of a sci-fi movie. Magic so powerful it not only killed my mother and I, but also gave me my gift (with my father’s interference). “Why me? Why didn’t my mom get any powers?”

  Jason shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe because you were a baby? It could be anything really. I also found out more about the Science Journal’s report. The stuff that they didn’t release. A possibility that may explain why you lose some control over corpses with less …flesh.” Jason almost sounded queasy at the prospect. “The subjects they used were actually
brought back for over three hours. A part of the experiment they didn’t report was the fact that they sprayed the bodies with acid over the three-hour period. The more they destroyed their flesh, the less they could control them, until eventually the bodies collapsed.”

  “That is so disgusting,” Nancy said aloud and I had to agree with her.

  “It’s not definite proof, but it gives you more to go on than before.” Jason raised an eyebrow with another thought. “I also found out a few things about I.Q. Farms as well.” He looked pointedly at Ryan.

  Ryan’s hand tightened in mine.

  “Most of this is from rumors and my conspiracy theorist contacts, but now that we have a living witness sitting in front of us, I tend to believe it. Basically, Turner started these farms going on the research of Larotte Fielding in 2133 that believed children’s minds, from the ages of seven through ten, were capable of far more than we ever realized. If utilized properly, there was nothing their intellect couldn’t solve or discover. Let’s just say Mr. Fielding was arrested and sentenced to life without Age-pro when they discovered his research laboratory where he had kidnapped thirty-three kids and performed experiments on their brains. Supposedly, Turner picked up where Fielding left off. No one has ever seen one since, but like I said, there are still people who believe they exist. And now Ryan is an eye-witness.”

  I looked over at Ryan sympathetically. He tried to hide it, but I could tell he was frightened. The boy who got away.

  “What about that thing the soldiers said; zombie 442?” I asked trying to change the subject.

  Jason shook his head. “Nothing. Some military code. And if there is actually a command in the military to respond to what you did, it means our world just opened up to a whole lot of chaos. It proves that there are more people like you out there, or at least more who can bring back the dead. Your innate gift may be unique to you. I just don’t know.”

  Everyone was quiet after that.

  Too much to process.

  “I’m really tired,” I said. Sitting there with everyone hearing about the kind of trouble we were in made me feel guilty beyond words. And the guilt soon became exhaustion.

  “Of course, sweetie. Take Nancy’s room and get some sleep,” Vianne said.

  “Sounds good. See you guys later.”

  “I’ll walk you up.” Ryan wasn’t about to let me go that easy and I didn’t want him to either.

  “Okay.” I smiled.

  Nancy gave me a wink of approval as we made our way upstairs to her room.

  When we arrived at the door I turned to Ryan and leaned my head against his chest. “This is my stop.”

  Ryan reached down and held both my hands in his pressing his forehead onto mine. “You want me to come in with you?”

  “Yes, but I want to sleep and if you’re there I won’t be able to.” I knew that for a fact, the boy made me too crazy for sleep.

  “Okay, but I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” He leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips.

  “Go, before I change my mind.” I disengaged my hands from his and entered Nancy’s bedroom. I shut the door behind me before I actually would change my mind.

  Her bed looked so ridiculously comfortable with the fluffy down comforter of awesomeness. Single-mindedly I walked over to that paradise of cushions ready to drop and sleep for fifteen hours.

  That’s when I felt the hand clasp over my mouth.

  I tried to struggle, but the person behind me pinned my arms with his free hand. He was so strong. I searched for anything dead in the room to distract him, something, but the room was clean. My hands were quickly tied together with what felt like leather cords.

  I stomped my foot on the ground to make some noise, but the carpet muffled all sound.

  No. It can’t end like this, I kept on repeating in my head until I felt the sharp prick of a needle in my neck and all my surroundings became a blur. It can’t end like this, I thought one last time before everything went black.

  Tuesday September 21, 2320

  Chapter Five

  …I slowly came to. My brain was throbbing and I felt like puking. I couldn’t clear my head no matter how hard I tried. Whatever was injected in me was still working its drugtastic wonders. I tried to move my hand, but it wouldn’t budge. That’s when I realized, through my drug-induced stupor, that I was tied to a chair.

  I screamed. Well, I wanted to scream, but I think it came out as more of a garble.

  A bright glowing ball of light dangled from the ceiling, but I couldn’t make out any details. I could only assume it was a light bulb.

  Footsteps clacked on what seemed to be a wooden staircase. Okay, good. My head was clearing slightly. I needed to concentrate, break out of this fog. Where was I? Who took me? Was it Turner? After the mess I left him in, I wouldn’t be surprised. Who else could it be?

  I looked through my bleary eyes to see the silhouette of a man walking toward me. I couldn’t see his face, my sight was too blurred, and the angle of the light made him look like a walking black shadow of doom coming toward me.

  “Hey.” I attempted to speak, but my tongue felt like it was made of lead.

  “Not time to wake up, my sweet,” the silhouette said. His voice was low and terrifying. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but every instinct in my body was telling me I was a dead woman.

  I felt the prick of a needle in my arm.

  “No.” I don’t even know if that came out properly my mind was starting to fuzz up again.

  I made one last lame struggle before the blackness overtook me again.

  Wednesday September 22, 2320

  …W…w…where…?

  Thursday September 23, 2320

  PRICK!

  Ouch. W…w..hat?

  I was awake again. I puked all over the floor.

  Why was I feeling better?

  I looked over at where I felt the prick and saw through my blurred vision a tube plugged into my arm. An I.V.? How long have I been here? I looked down and noticed he had taken my shoes and socks off and my ankles were tied to the chair as well.

  “Sleep, little one, I’m not ready for you,” the man’s voice was almost a whisper and sounded like the reaper coming to claim another victim. He injected more of the drug into my I.V.

  I struggled to fight off the effects, but the feeling of sleep was overwhelming. My thoughts were too scattered. I just need to stay awa…

  Friday September 24, 2320

  I came to again. I felt slightly better than the last… I couldn’t remember how many times I had woken up… I threw-up on top of a puddle of dried puke. Gross.

  I knew my captor would be coming down those wooden steps to drug me again any second now. I had to think quickly, but thinking was proving a challenge unto itself. I needed to be sharp and focused so I could figure a way out of this mess, that much my brain acknowledged.

  What could I do? Could I use something dead? I searched the area for any spinning black hole I could find. Tons of roaches (eeeewww), a fly and…. Worms? I wiggled my toes on the ground. Dirt. I was in a cellar of some sort. I just needed something to tie off the flow of the I.V. into my veins without him noticing.

  The door creaked open and the same slow clacking of footsteps sounded my doom.

  My head still wasn’t screwed on straight. I needed more time.

  Instinctively, I reached out and connected to a dead worm’s black center.

  My captor’s slow methodic pacing down the stairs made my skin crawl with the realization that this man felt very calm about keeping me tied up down here. He was nearing the bottom of the stairs. I could see his silhouette through my fuzzy eyes.

  I made the worm move as fast as I could. I almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of making an earthworm slither its way to my chair to perform some kind of rescue mission I didn’t even know would work yet. It squirmed up the leg of the chair.

  The man was within a few steps of me.

  I needed to cause a distraction so I could t
ry and make the worm tie off the I.V. tube.

  The man was next to me now. He lifted my I.V. to inject it with the drug.

  I looked up at him. I couldn’t see any of his facial features. He was completely in shadow. “Who are you?” I tried to divert his attention from injecting me.

  The worm slowly wrapped itself around the base of the I.V. squeezing off the flow of nutrients to my body.

  “Not now, little one.” He stroked the top of my head and I wanted to puke again.

  I snapped off both ends of the worm (its dead it can’t feel anything!) to disguise the cinch from my captor.