Ascendant: The Complete Edition

by Richard Denoncourt

  “Yeah, Pete,” Eli said, and his voice trembled. “Ease up on the theories.”

  “I don’t like this conversation,” Arielle said, turning away from them.

  Michael lightly placed a hand on the small of her back. “Are you ready?”

  A fierce wind blew over them, carrying with it the foul stench of rot and decay. Arielle shivered.

  “I’m ready.”

  They formed a protective ring around her as she sat on the barren ground, closed her eyes, and extended her telepathic reach into the heart of Praetoria.

  After a few minutes of silence in which only the wind could be heard rustling the bushes around them, Arielle emerged from her trance with a twitch of her head and a sudden, sharp intake of breath.

  “They’re in there. All three of them. I could feel them.”

  Grim expressions came over the boys. Now there was no turning back.

  Chapter 22

  After lunch at the Cold War Café, those in support of Louis Blake walked as a single group to the town hall to witness his trial. Midas Ford trailed behind most of the way, looking down at the ground and scratching his beard like a man who had just woken from a mysterious dream. Dominic walked ahead of them, fists swinging at his sides. Reggie and Arielle followed along, deep in their own conversation.

  Michael, Eli, Peter, and Ian kept silent the entire trip, and it was clear to Michael that everyone was having second thoughts. There was no guaranteeing the people of Gulch would believe them about Fran, Rocio, and Sally still being alive. Providing an explanation of how they knew would be another matter altogether.

  Inside the town hall, the ministers sat on raised benches, blinking over the crowd filing into the room. The air was humid, and Michael could smell fresh sweat from the farmers in attendance. A podium stood at the far end of the room where John Meacham presided over the trial with his usual air of superiority. Louis Blake sat handcuffed in the front row, between Warren and Elkin.

  The boys stood against the back wall. At one point, Michael noticed John Meacham look over and frown upon seeing Ian with them. Ian stood his ground, met his father’s gaze, and held it without faltering until finally John Meacham turned away to converse with his ministers.

  Charlotte came in holding her son’s hand, accompanied by a small group of women. William grinned at Michael and waved, almost tripping over his clubfoot. Michael waved back, feeling a surge of affection for the boy. Over the past few months, they had grown close, and Michael saw in William a reflection of his own lonely childhood. Also, something about the boy—maybe his child-like innocence—reminded him of Benny.

  Arielle took a seat among the crowd. She looked back over her shoulder and gave Michael a reassuring smile. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and her cheeks were flushed from the heat. Michael ached to be near her.

  “Quit staring,” Peter told him with a smirk.

  Michael clicked his tongue and looked away, then caught sight of Charlotte walking toward them. He avoided her gaze.

  “She got back late last night,” Charlotte said, stopping before them. “I don’t know where you went or what you did, but I’ve never seen her this anxious. I’m warning you not to do it again.”

  “Jealous, Charlotte?” Peter said with an arrogant smile. “Don’t worry, we wouldn’t have a party without you.”

  “Arielle’s fine,” Ian said. “This isn’t your problem.”

  “Piss off, Ian.” Charlotte folded her arms across her chest.

  Ian brought his face close to hers and practically spit out his next words.

  “Go away, Charlotte. This has nothing to do with you.”

  Michael clamped a hand around Ian’s arm. “Relax. We shouldn’t make a scene right now.”

  Charlotte flashed Ian and Michael a threatening look before turning back toward the seating area. Michael frowned at something he’d seen in her face.

  “Charlotte.”

  She turned back to him. Her eyes were a misty blue, the same color as Arielle’s.

  “What now?” she said.

  As Michael studied her face, she blinked and the blue changed back to its usual brown. He must have been going out of his mind.

  “Nothing,” he said.

  Charlotte turned away with a sigh. Michael watched her settle into a seat next to William.

  Peter glanced at him. “What the hell was that all about?”

  “I don’t know,” Michael said, wilting against the wall.

  The verdict came out guilty and Blake was sentenced to sixty days in the town jail. His permit to train anyone—telepath or not—was revoked. Permanently.

  The ministers had deliberated for ten minutes in the back room, giving everyone a chance to get refreshments and use the bathroom. Blake chain-smoked three cigarettes in silence.

  When the ministers came back and announced the verdict, half the people in the room clapped and cheered. The other half shook their heads and traded solemn looks.

  Michael used this opportunity to make his announcement.

  “Everyone, listen up,” he shouted.

  They all turned to look at him, many blinking in confusion like they’d never seen him before. John Meacham scowled and banged his fist against the podium.

  “You have no say in this hall, Michael Cairne. Don’t make me tell you again.”

  Michael felt small with everyone’s eyes on him. Peter, Eli, and Ian stepped forward, flanking him. It was easier to speak knowing they were there.

  “It’s about Fran,” he started, “and Rocio, and Sally. We know where they are, and we can help them.”

  With a growl, Meacham banged his fist again. “Warren, Elkin, get them out of here.”

  “You will do no such thing,” Midas Ford shouted, standing up among the crowd. “Everyone has a voice in this hall, including Michael. We’ll listen to what he has to say.”

  By now John Meacham’s face was red with rage. Louis Blake had stood up and was giving the boys a disconcerted look. He wasn’t going to like this. Not at all.

  “Let him speak,” a man in the audience said.

  “Sally’s my cousin,” a woman shouted. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

  “We’re listening!”

  “Let’s hear him out!”

  “Tell us what you know!”

  Meacham removed a gavel from inside the podium and banged it against the wood. It took ten knocks to get everyone to quiet down.

  “We don’t even know they’re alive,” Meacham said.

  Arielle stood up from her place in the crowd. “Yes, we do.”

  Meacham looked at her, stunned. “Arielle, what do you have to do with this?”

  “I know they’re alive. They’re in Praetoria. I sensed them.”

  Michael didn’t expect what came next. Louis Blake, still in handcuffs, ran to the central aisle. Warren and Elkin rushed to restrain him.

  “That’s impossible,” Blake said, gawking at Arielle. “How did you pinpoint—”

  “I had therapy sessions with them for years. I know their minds well.”

  Blake resisted as Warren and Elkin tried to pull him away. “You would’ve had to be a few miles outside of—” He didn’t finish the thought but looked at Michael and the other boys instead. “You took her out of Gulch? What’s the matter with you?”

  John Meacham’s rage had been replaced by amusement. He watched his men drag Blake toward a side door.

  “Don’t do it,” Blake shouted at the boys. “You’re not ready!”

  Dominic grabbed Michael’s shirt and spun him around. “What the hell did you do?”

  “Well, well,” Meacham said from his podium. “Another crime to add to the books.”

  Michael worked his way out of Dominic’s grasp. He shouted into the commotion.

  “Everybody just hold on a second.”

  Arrows flew invisibly from his mind, showering the crowd in a way Michael felt more than saw. For a moment, no one moved.

  He swallowed his nervousness
and tried to sound confident. “We took our motorcycles outside Praetoria with her consent. We used telepathy to stay undercover. It was safe, and we were careful and armed. Now that we know where those women are, we can get them and bring them back. You should all know that our telepathic training is for the protection of Gulch and nothing more.”

  The room was silent except for the creaking of chairs. John Meacham leaned over the podium, arms resting over its edge like he wanted to climb over it and beat Michael’s face in.

  “Michael Cairne,” he said. “Last time I checked, you were a mass murderer. You wiped out an entire city block a few nights before you were brought here—”

  “Enough!”

  The plea had come from Louis Blake, who was still standing by the exit, Warren and Elkin restraining him on either side.

  “We all know the circumstances of Michael’s arrival in Gulch,” Blake continued, “and we know it wasn’t his fault. The issue at hand is one of legality. These boys are not yet eighteen, and therefore they aren’t allowed to leave town. Period. You made that law yourself, John.”

  Meacham puffed up his shoulders and smiled. “All of a sudden, you’re respecting the law, huh, Louis?”

  Blake bared his teeth. He was about to speak when a sudden coughing spell took hold of him. Warren and Elkin let go, letting him fall to his knees.

  “They”—cough—“can’t”—cough, cough—“do this.”

  Midas Ford rushed to his side. “He needs medical help.”

  “Not happening,” Meacham countered. “The verdict has been decided. He goes straight to jail. You can tend to him there.”

  Michael caught Dominic glaring at him. Had this been a bad idea after all?

  Peter put his hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Just so you know, we’re with you on this. No matter what anyone says. You decide.”

  “We’re going,” Michael announced to the crowd.

  Dominic closed his eyes and shook his head in disappointment.

  A booming voice filled the room, suddenly upbeat and optimistic.

  “You boys have my permission,”’ John Meacham said. “Hell, I’ll loan you one of my trucks. I’ll even let the major go free when you get back. If you make it back.”

  He grinned as if he’d just done the town a tremendous service.

  Blake’s voice entered Michael’s mind. Michael was sure the other boys could hear the old man, too.

  Don’t do this. You don’t know what you’re walking into. You’ll die.

  Michael clenched his teeth against a brutal wave of fear and uncertainty.

  It’s done, he sent back. These people need to know we’re here to help.

  That’s not important.

  Another voice joined the conversation.

  Yes it is, Dominic sent. And I’m going with them.

  Blake said nothing more as they dragged him off to jail.

  ~

  Episode III

  PEOPLE’S REPUBLIC

  Chapter 1

  Michael lay on his bed staring up at the slanted ceiling. Tomorrow would be his last day in Gulch, maybe for good. He pictured Arielle standing by the lake, watching him and crying.

  His room was full of motorcycle parts, the walls papered with drawings and blueprints. There were also a few maps of Praetoria from before Roman, the settlement’s leader, took over. They had numbers, lines, and circles drawn all over them, all by Michael’s hand. He’d been planning this mission for days, beginning each morning and not stopping until late at night. Arielle brought him his meals. Peter and the others trained with Dominic and Reggie, out in the open now since they had the town’s approval to prepare as much as they needed. They waited to hear Michael’s thoughts about the mission.

  A knock sounded at his door. He hadn’t heard anyone come up, nor had he sensed an approaching presence. He needed to loosen up a bit, stop being so tense.

  “Michael?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. There was a lock on the door, but he’d forgotten to turn it. The door opened and quickly shut again. He opened his eyes and sat up to find Charlotte standing beside his bed, barely visible in the dark.

  “I just wanted to talk,” she said and took a seat on the edge of the cot. She lifted her legs, which were bare beneath her slip, to rest them on the mattress. Inside Michael’s chest and stomach, the old stirrings began anew, accompanied by the memory of how warm and soft her body had been the last time she’d been in his bed.

  “About?”

  “You sound suspicious,” she said, and he could almost see her eyes narrowing. The only light in the room came from the window, a weak glow from the moon. Enough to see that she wasn’t wearing much apart from her slip. “I’m not going to bite.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

  He sat up, keeping the covers drawn around his waist. His body’s reaction had been instantaneous.

  “Don’t be shy,” Charlotte said. “You might not survive this mission. Would it kill you to be with me just once before you go?”

  His mouth went dry. He swallowed twice before speaking.

  “We have a plan. It’s—”

  “You love her, don’t you.”

  It hadn’t been a question at all.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But you can’t come up here anymore. Last time I heard, you were with Ian—”

  “To hell with what you heard.”

  Charlotte rose off the bed and stood before him. His mind clouded with the memory of her fullness from the last time she had crawled into his bed.

  “Ian’s going to find out about tonight, anyway,” Charlotte said. “And Peter and Eli and Arielle. Everyone’s going to know.”

  Michael’s stomach tightened. She could ruin everything. “Don’t do anything stupid, Charlotte.”

  Her voice came out sly and silky. “I’m going to tell everyone you and I did it, and that we’ve been doing it for months. Ian’ll hate you again.”

  “He’ll never believe you, and you know it.”

  “Maybe. But the jealousy will be there during your mission tomorrow. It’ll be present every time he raises a gun at your side.”

  Shaking his head, Michael stood up. Charlotte was grinning. He could see her teeth in the moonlight reflected off the mirror.

  “I can’t do this,” he said. “Get out.”

  “Are you sure?” Charlotte said.

  She stood before him and let the slip fall off her body. He looked away.

  “Out,” he said.

  “Make me.”

  He did. He picked up her clothes, used an arm to push her into the hallway, tossed her clothes after her, and shut the door quickly between them. Then he turned the lock, took a step back, and breathed. Strange that he had just ushered a naked girl out of his bedroom. A year ago, this scenario would have been unthinkable.

  He couldn’t see her any longer, but he could tell she was scowling by the mental heaviness of her voice.

  You’re making a mistake, Michael, you dumb shit. Arielle doesn’t love you.

  Get out of my head, Charlotte.

  You’ll regret this.

  He focused on her presence behind the door and used another technique to block her telepathic voice. Now he just had to wait.

  He could tell what was happening by the sounds she made. With a series of soft grunts and huffs, Charlotte struggled back into her pants and shoes, after which she stomped down the stairs, making as much noise as possible.

  Good. The other boys would understand what that meant.

  When she was gone, Michael slipped back into bed and pulled the covers up to his chest. The hold he had placed on his libido didn’t carry over into his dreams, and all night he tossed and turned, dreaming of release, of Charlotte’s flesh hot against his hands and mouth.

  Charlotte got into the truck with Warren and Elkin.

  They were silent as they drove her up to the mansion at the end of Apple Orchard Road. She was used to this, their way of treating her like some precious
object that could break if they so much as disrespected it once. Not as stupid as they looked, these two; she was John Meacham’s most valuable weapon, and they knew it. Without her, they had nothing.

  John Meacham’s home office was warm and inviting as always. Logs burned in the fireplace. When she arrived, he poured her a glass of whiskey with a splash of water, to calm her nerves, as he put it. She sat in the chair before his desk while Warren and Elkin made themselves comfortable on the couch against the wall.

  “I don’t want them here,” she said.

  Meacham, sitting at his desk, fingers interlaced on the surface, nodded once.

  “Get out,” he said.

  She could feel their hot stares as they shuffled out of the room.

  “Did you get it?” Meacham said when they were alone.

  “You’re disgusting.”

  A flicker of amusement passed across his broad, pink face. “You’ll have no proof without his fluids. The good doctor is on Blake’s side. He’ll doubt your word.”

  “I don’t want to be a part of this. Go ahead and take my house. I don’t care anymore.”

  “Oh, no, no, no,” Meacham said, getting up from the desk. He crept around it, his features devilish in the light of the fire. “You underestimate me, Charlotte.”

  She got up from her seat and took a few steps back. The heat in the room was close, intimate, like Michael’s flesh when she had gripped him in her hand.

  “I can take so much more from you,” Meacham said, approaching her tenderly, like he just wanted to help. “Those girls who got kidnapped five years ago? That was no accident. I made them disappear, and I could do the same to you and your sister.”

  Charlotte’s stomach dropped.

  “You’re lying,” she said. “Those were slavers that took them. Those were—”

  Meacham shook his head. “Ohhh, Charlotte. I don’t blame you. It was a well-executed plan. Even I was impressed by how well it worked. Lucrative, too. Those little bitches went after me, and they paid the price. No one defies me in this town. Not Blake, not Michael, not you or your little slut of a sister.”

  Charlotte took a step closer to the door. Her heart was slamming against her ribs.