I turned away from it. Could there be more I had been missing this entire time? I kept my eyes low to the ground, searching for the telltale swirling.
"Where is the baby?"
I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore him. I searched around and behind Akasha, finding it easier once it rose, taking its searing light with it. I squinted, huffing in frustration. The mist very well could've been tricks of light caused by the dancing flames around me.
"Is the baby mine?"
I moved to the area behind Shawn, waving my hands in front of me, hoping to agitate any clumps of mist, making them more visible. With Akasha rising, I didn't have much time left.
I bent lower, searching for the slightest shimmer, waving my hands in a frantic panic. Blood was descending over the flames around me. Finally, I found something. Once I zeroed in on it, I was amazed I had missed it all this time. Four more distinct balls of mist, also low to the ground. I squatted down to examine them, willing them to materialize. The mist swirled faster, until I thought I could distinguish body parts. A hand here, a head over there…
Shawn's words boomed through the area, "You are too late."
* * *
The next morning we made our way back to the mall. Micah was almost fully recovered, almost. He had insisted we try the energy exchange again last night, but fell dead asleep before he had a chance to counter my refusal with an argument. We walked down the long alleyway leading to One Less, donning our disguises. Micah pulled on his hoodie and I removed extra layers of clothes. I shivered, wondering how long the weather would let me bare my skin.
"I'll be close by the entire day," Micah said, voice low.
I nodded, handing him a blue arm bandana and slipping on my own. We walked past the guard without a word. He looked at us, yawning.
"I need to find out who is in charge of training," I said. "I'll have to ask around at admin."
"Shawn could be there," Micah said, laying his hand on my arm. "Let me go."
"No. They know me there – besides, who do you think is more recognizable. You or me?" I smiled, pulling on the strings to tighten his hood.
He didn't respond. I think he was still too tired to argue. One Less headquarters had set up shop in what used to be a deli on the ground floor of a thirty-floor building. It was inconspicuous, other than the large blankets covering the windows, but it made me wonder if Shawn stayed in one of the offices above it. I would have if I were running the show.
Micah and I knelt behind a planter, surveying those coming and going. Every time the door opened, we scanned the inside.
"I think it's clear…" I said, standing up from my crouch.
"Wait – we need to be sure."
"We don't have all day; we've already lost enough time," I snapped back at him.
He turned his gaze to me and my cheeks heated.
"Sorry," I mumbled. He was right, I couldn't go charging in there and chance Shawn. There had to be another way.
It hit me. "Duh." I smacked my palm into my forehead. I closed my eyes, tapping into the atmosphere and the electrical signals around me. I waded through the information, eliminating the plants we hid behind, then the stray cats stalking the gardens. I ignored the low, steady buzz the earth beneath us gave off and focused in on the Elementals walking around.
"What are you doing?" asked Micah.
"Shh," I barely responded. This had been so much easier without him next to me, giving off his own, distinct signal.
Inside, I counted them out. Plenty of Fires, Shawn was always big on the Fires. No Earths; they would all be in the gardens. Three Waters, two Airs…
"And a partridge in a pear tree." I opened my eyes to find Micah looking at me, one eyebrow raised.
"He's in there," I said. "Three floors up and moving."
"How do you know?"
"New trick. He gives off a signal similar to yours."
Micah didn't ask any more questions.
"Look – why don't you find Clay? I might need his help," I told him.
Micah shook his head. "I'm staying with you."
I sighed. "I'll blend in with that work group until I see Shawn leave. I'll be fine."
He continued to stare me down. His eye tricks had little effect on me anymore. I turned and walked toward a group chopping up furniture for the fires. I picked up an axe, glancing at the sweaty men and women swinging their sharp blades at a large couch.
I turned toward a lone armchair. Sunlight glinted off my axe, and at an angle, I could see Micah's reflection. He still stood where I left him.
I grimaced, readjusted my grip on the handle, and raised the axe. I pulled, using my hips to drive it down. It went straight through the seat, hitting the cold asphalt below. I smiled. This was going to be therapeutic. I pulled my blade out of the punctured fabric, metal, and wood, glancing behind my shoulder. Micah was no longer there.
Now I can concentrate.
I closed my eyes, reaching out for Shawn again. He was in between the second and third floors, descending. I swung the axe again, aiming at an arm. The axe didn't go all the way through this time, but the footrest popped out, startling me. I jumped back, laughing.
Shawn was on the second floor.
I swung again, blade swiveling on a level, horizontal plane. The top half of the backrest toppled to the ground. I bounced it off the top of my toes, then kicked it away.
Shawn was close to the ground floor. Time to blend in.
The backrest landed at the feet of a group of people; all of whom were staring at me. Shawn was on the ground floor now, walking toward the door.
Shit.
I shrugged. "It's just…it's fun." I decided to go with the truth.
There were a few smiles and a few eye rolls but everyone turned back to their work.
I ducked behind what was left of my armchair, feigning an untied boot just as David walked out. I peered out from the faux-leather seat. Shawn walked into the sunlight, shielding his eyes. The hand he held up was heavily bandaged. My eyes flit down to his other bandaged hand, then over to the sheathed Athame hanging from his belt.
He stopped to monitor the plants growing from the beds in front of the building. Then he said something to David and walked off. David almost tripped trying to keep up, writing all along in that notebook.
Once they rounded the corner, I stood, tapping my lower lip.
I took in a deep breath, and let it out slow. I walked around the armchair and sat, propping my feet up on the extended footrest. People were looking at me again but I didn't care. I sank into the chair, head falling back with nothing to catch it. Today, the sun was spectacular.
* * *
"Clay," Micah hissed.
The shorter man didn’t turn.
Micah raised his voice, "Clay!"
Clay looked, his beard catching on the barbed wire he was unraveling. "Dag nabbit!"
Micah waited patiently for Clay to untangle himself. Micah squinted. Is that hair…coming out of his ears?
Clay stood. "Not safe to talk here – let's go get some lunch."
"No time to eat."
"Hmpf," Clay guffawed. "There is always time to—"
"Kait—" Micah cleared his throat. "Lucy is back at camp."
"Is the girl crazy?"
Micah's step faltered. "In the literal sense – yes. I think she’s headed that way."
"Well, nothing beats crazy." Clay gestured to a group of One Less. "Like more crazy."
Micah furrowed his eyebrow.
"What I mean to say," Clay continued, "is what I've witnessed being with One Less the past couple of years – well, it's just gonna take a madman to take them down." Clay lowered his voice, "Or a madwoman."
Micah put his hand on Clay's shoulder. "I know it's been rough, but you've been invaluable for us. Thanks for sticking with it."
They turned off the mall toward the headquarters building.
"Don't thank me 'til it's over," Clay said. "Let's just hope you guys have a plan."
"We
do…" Micah trailed off and the men stopped walking.
There, off to the side of a working party was Kaitlyn, sprawled out in a beat up armchair. Her arms behind her head, eyes closed, in plain view of headquarters – not to mention the entire street.
"Is that part of the plan?" Clay asked, arms crossed.
Micah didn't answer. He walked toward Kaitlyn, his shadow falling over her, blocking out the sun.
She opened one eye, looking up at him – then over at Clay.
"What are you doing?" Micah asked.
"Working party," Kaitlyn answered, closing her eyes again.
The group nearby was disassembling a couch with their axes. They were glancing her way, whispering. Micah was positive he heard the phrase 'wild dog'.
If Kaitlyn is going to develop eccentric characteristics – fine. Time to put them to good use.
"Come on, then. I have an idea." Micah held out his hand.
Kaitlyn stretched, yawned, and sat up. She picked up the axe leaning against the armchair and slammed the handle inside a gaping hole. The footrest snapped back into place. Kaitlyn stood, swinging the axe to rest on her shoulder.
As the trio walked away, someone from the working party – a tall male – stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Excuse me, miss."
Kaitlyn paused.
Micah looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Her lips were moving, counting to three. Micah smiled – if there was anything Kaitlyn could do well, it was drama.
She finally turned, staring down the man.
He flinched and took a step back. "You know – that’s ok. Keep it."
Kaitlyn nodded once and left the area. "What?" she asked Clay as soon as they were out of earshot of the working group. "I like the axe."
He snorted, "Your wrist is bleeding."
Kaitlyn looked down at the seeping bandages. "Totally worth it."
"So what's the plan?" Clay asked.
"We've gotta shake things up a bit—" Kaitlyn started.
"After we get new bandages," Micah interrupted.
"Okay." Kaitlyn winked up at him. "First aid first – then the show."
* * *
Sue, the town healer, unwrapped my bandaged wrist and asked, "How long ago did this happen?"
"Um, maybe a week."
"Your wrist isn't healing nearly as quickly as it should be." Sue got up from her seat at the table and began running her finger over the line of jars behind her. Clay and Micah stood behind me, patiently waiting.
I glanced at Clay, and whispered, "Why didn't we go to the One Less medics?"
Clay mouthed a word.
I rolled my eyes. "I can't read lips through all that hair."
He cleared his throat, leaned in, and hissed in my ear, "Shawn."
"Oh…" I glanced at Micah for confirmation. Micah held up one hand, pointing to his palm.
Right. Shawn must've been getting treatments for his hands.
Outside the camp, Sue had taken up residence in a small coffee shop on the mall. The hand-painted sign out front read, 'Alternative Medicine'.
I narrowed my eyes at the lady, still scanning her shelves. Thanks to Shawn, I was stuck with her and her jars, and her—
A fat, white feline jumped on the table.
"Cat!" I jumped back.
Two heavy hands gripped my shoulders, holding me in place. Micah and Clay pushed me forward, back to the table.
"Geez," I huffed, pushing hair out of my face. "I'm not going to bolt."
"Hmm," mumbled Clay.
Suddenly I felt claustrophobic.
The cat turned to me, blinked once, then jumped off the table. She made herself comfortable on top of a stack of books in the corner.
"Abby likes you," Sue said, sitting back down at the table across from me and placing a jar filled with reddish-orange flowers, soaking in a liquid, in between us.
I read the label out loud, "Calendula. What is that?"
"Marigolds in olive oil. One of my most effective home remedies. It's an anti-inflammatory, and an antiviral. Helps with cuts, scrapes, chapped or chafed skin…"
She drifted off as her cat meowed at her. "Ok, ok." She smiled at me. "Abby is telling me to shut up."
Sue unscrewed the lid and dipped a thick cloth into the jar. She spread the healing ointment across my wounds while my eyes scanned some of her other jars. White willow, cayenne, rosemary, plus an entire shelf of peppermint.
"Do many people come to see you?" I asked.
She shook her head. "Not yet, though as the manufactured medicine runs out, there'll be more and more." She made one last pat on my wrist with her herb-infused rag and said, "There. Now – do you want me to take a look at this?" She turned over my hand, displaying a burned palm. "I've got an aloe plant."
"No thanks." That wound was at least healing faster than the scar at my shoulder.
She rewrapped my wrist. "Well, at least take a leaf with you – in case it gets worse. Or if it happens again." She winked at me, then walked over to a potted plant behind Micah. Snipping off one of the thick, fleshy leaves, she wrapped it in bandages, too.
She stood to hand it to me, but hesitated. Instead she turned to Micah and said, "A few drops of the oil a couple times a day should do it."
I huffed, sinking down in my seat and crossing my arms.
The door to the shop swung open. "Sue! We've got more burns. Bad ones! Some kid passed out over a cooking fire."
Sue brushed past me, the entire aloe vera plant already in one arm. She stopped to scoop up her cat in the other arm. As she bustled out the door, the cat turned to meow at me once before they disappeared.
"Look, here." Clay walked toward a barrel full of rolled maps and pulled one out, unfurling it on the table in front of me.
"That's not ours – maybe we shouldn't be messing with it." I kept my hands off, lest someone fingerprint the crime.
Clay made a pointed glance at the axe leaning against my side.
"They said I could keep it," my argument was not very compelling. I cleared my throat and pointed to the map in front of me. "Why do we need a map of the world?"
"Because; it's about time to come up with a plan," Micah said, stepping forward to run his hand across the continent of Africa. The tip of his pinky touched the tiny spec of Reunion Island, just off the coast of Madagascar. My heart lurched at the memory of the small house he had bought for us there.
I wondered what's become of it since Daybreak. Probably occupied by squatters. Maybe even that maid.
There was some satisfaction in knowing the maid would not be able to get to Micah now.
"Kaitlyn, please pay attention," Micah said.
I shook my head, focusing.
"Ok, so if we are equating places on the Earth to chakras on the body – where do they lie?" Clay obviously had been paying more attention to Micah’s lecture than I had.
"Alex mentioned Muladhara," I said, finally getting my head in the game. "The root chakra associated with the element of earth. He thinks The Seven headquarters in Simuelue is the representation."
Micah leaned over me. I inhaled his scent. Cinnamon and pine.
"So if they are each balanced by something else, the next would be Galapagos, halfway around the world," Micah said.
"Manipura," I mumbled. "The stomach of the human body. Radiates willpower and achievement, and is associated with the element of Fire." And that was the last of my knowledge on chakras.
"Two down, five to go," Clay said.
"What about the forest we planted?" asked Micah.
"Indonesia," I pointed. "Ariel reforestation. Could represent the element of Air. I don't know what any more chakra points are though. Where would the balance to Indonesia be?"
"Easter Island," Clay pointed out.
"Easter Island?" I asked, confused. "What—?"
"Down to three," Micah interrupted me, barreling through to a conclusion. "What about Heard and McDonald Islands?"
Clay leaned over the map, brushing the tip of his bea
rd away.
I almost offered to hold it back for him.
"The balance to the island set would be just about where we are now. It's not exact, but…" Clay trailed off.
"But very convenient," I said.
"That leaves one left," Micah breathed, voice low. "Where could it be?"
"Nowhere," I said, leaning back in my chair. "The Seventh is Akasha. You tap into each of these points of power and that is when you attain the most powerful Akasha you could possibly have."
"Look – just like the chakras on a human body, the places are in one straight line." Clay ran his thumb across the equator, his forefinger touching Indonesia, Simuleue, the Galapagos, and Easter Island. "A few locations, like here, don't follow the line exactly, but if you take into consideration their balance, it all equals out."
"Ok." I stood from my chair, rolling up the map. "We've got our points of power – but how do we access them?"
First Clay, then Micah turned to look at me.
"That part is up to you, Gaia," Micah said.
Chapter 48
Dinnertime
We approached the open field, east of the city, with a group of Earths behind us. Clay and Erika were an invaluable resource when it came to rounding them up and finding an excuse for us to be out here, away from prying eyes and away from Shawn.
"This is our winter wheat crop." One of the head gardeners, Mike, stepped forward. "It got a slow start, but we're hoping it recovers. Depends if we get enough moisture this winter." He turned his head toward the sky. The rest of us followed suit. The sun had already gone down, leaving behind inky black without a cloud in sight. I surveyed the wheat field. The moon was bright enough to see the frosty white etchings across the leaf sprouts of the wheat plants.
I bent down, running my hand across one. "What is this?" I pulled back my hand, looking at the beetle. A red body with metallic blue-black wings.
Akasha 4 - Earth Page 21
