Fox stepped forward, bringing up his fist, ready to pound Jaxx to the ground. And if the woman got hurt trying to break it up, so be it.
“Halt.” The woman walked into the dome. “There will be no more fighting.”
“Like you can stop – ” Fox fell back, an electrical current running through him like a stun charge from an IPR-8. It faded as quickly as it came. He rubbed his head, grunting, sitting on his butt, too pissed to say anything.
The woman addressed Jaxx as if Fox wasn’t in the room. “Your brother is a bull-headed nitwit with a hell curdling life mission to spill as much blood as he can. It’s not his fault. He was a good man, just like you, Jaxx. This nastiness has all been trained into him. All his Atlantean leanings has been weeded out of him. Unlike you. You’ve known for some time that you’re different…”
“I’m not Atlantean.” Jaxx said, not really knowing what the difference between an Atlantean and a Human. The Atlanteans had been gone from Earth for so long; perhaps they’d had time to evolve. For all he knew, their DNA had taken a left, instead of a right. Even if that were the case, they were essentially of the same species – homosapien-sapien.
Fox tried to stand.
The woman thrust her hand out, using a strange energy to root him to the ground.
“God dammit. Let me up.”
She shook her head. “My name is Liberty. I am the Master of Flood of Dawn of Moon Atlantis Alta or in your terms, Callisto.” She put her hands in prayer position. “And, to answer your internal question, Jaxx, you and Fox are indeed Atlantean. The difference between Human and Atlantean is subtle, and with your advance translation skills, I’m surprised you missed that in the Stele’s and hieroglyphs. The human race has been genetically manipulated by another species and a similar manipulation continues to this day with the chemicals in your foods and liquids, but we won’t get to that now. The Atlantean race, to which you were both born, has not been manipulated. We are still pure. You both, on the other hand, are more powerful than the Atlanteans, for a great power has been bestowed upon you. You carry human chromosome two and human chromosome seven.”
This just wasn’t making sense. Jaxx and Fox were Atlantean brothers, yet partly human as well? Then, who were his real parents? “A great power has been bestowed upon Fox and me?” asked Jaxx.
“You have much to learn, much to decipher. In time, it will come. Now, for you two,” she pointed an index finger to Jaxx and her other index finger to Fox. “You have a connection you haven’t quite understood and when you felt it in the past, you dismissed it as something else entirely or ignored it altogether.”
Fox shook his head and gave a hearty laugh. “You’re full of shit, woman.” He supported his body with his hand on the ground and pushed himself up like a rickety old man, the electrical charge still tingling through him. “How did we get here?”
“Mez Beds, please,” she said.
Two beds materialized in the middle of the room, crystalline in appearance with a glow pulsing from within. Ear muffs – or some device that looked like ear muffs – were at the head of each bed. “You cannot leave this dome until you find your true connection. It will bond you, even if you can’t overcome your kismet issues with each other. It is your destiny. It is our destiny. You will right a great wrong that is facing our people.” She snapped her fingers, gesturing for them to lay on the beds.
Jaxx and Fox didn’t move and Liberty dipped her head. “It is your choice. Until then, it is by decree and a past agreement between you two that you may not leave this dome until you have understood your bond.”
She left the dome and the door shut behind her, though no lines showed where a door should have been. No frame, no door knob, nothing. It was again one big dome.
Fox stood, stretching, then cracking his knuckles. “This ought to be fun.” He rushed Jaxx, ready to kill him where he stood.
27
Somewhere in North Carolina
He’d been on the road for three hours. All he’d seen on the way were a few cars and mostly people walking on the side of the freeway, their thumbs out. Drew would have pulled over many times, but each time, the memory of the men who stole his car came to mind. In a time like this, he could only trust himself.
Mya hadn’t woken up yet. Perhaps the trauma had overrun her nervous system and her body was keeping her safe by conking her to sleep as long as it could before the trauma reared its ugly head the moment she woke up.
The red gas light blinked on. Near empty.
His stomach fell. Fuck, now he was feeling trauma. Not like back when the foreign military was opening fire on his location, but still…a car with no gas equaled he’d be up shit creek.
He was passing Balsam, North Carolina on Route 74. Population 49.
He pulled onto the exit. The gas station was run down and his car jostled up and down as he pulled onto the broken driveway.
Mya was still asleep.
He pulled up to one of the two pumps, a Country Mountain Store sign above the roof of the store only yards away told him exactly where he was – butt fucking nowhere. The store looked empty. Nothing in life from this point forward would be easy, not that it had ever been. But with the US economy in the toilet, people running to safety, and everyone – just like him – suspicious of everyone, life would be a shit-show of people stealing and pillaging and looking out for number one.
He opened his car door. “A mountain store?” he said quietly to himself. The smell of fresh air and pine seeped into his nostrils. The landscape was beyond gorgeous. Green, healthy trees dotted the mountains surrounding Balsam.
He took out his wallet, eyeing a credit card. He sighed. “I hope this works.” He slid it into the gas pump’s card reader. No response. The lack of digital numbers on the pump’s display should have told him exactly that – not operational.
There was a beat up truck parked on the grass by the side of the store, rust starting to make its home on its roof. He hurried over, checking left and right, hoping nobody was watching him. He opened the driver door and popped open the gas cap cover. He shut the door and walked over and unscrewed the gas cap, then took a whiff. There was still gas in there. He’d have to siphon it. He went to the store’s front door and jiggled the handle. Locked.
He glanced back at his car. Mya was stretching, yawning, rubbing her eyes.
She opened the door. “Mamma? Where’s mama?”
Oh, boy. Here we go. He strode up next to her, bending down, rubbing her chest. He didn’t know if that’s what you’re supposed to do with kids, but he’d give it a go. “Mya? Your mom won’t be able to see you for a while. I’m going to be taking care of you until your dad arrives.”
Did he just say that? Taking care of her? He couldn’t even take care of his bong. And when was he going to explain that her mom would never see her again?
Kids were an anomaly to him, perhaps because he was an anomaly as a child. Growing up, he didn’t know how to talk to kids his own age and especially didn’t like playing legos or stacking blocks with them, since other kids were so elementary. Plus, being born with photographic memory had its down sides with runny nosed, piss-ant kids who made fun of him for knowing algebra and equations better than college professors by age ten.
“Where is daddy?” Mya got out of the car, yawning. A cold breeze brushed against them and she huddled up against Drew’s leg.
Drew put his hands out and leaned back like Mya was a leach, trying to suck the blood out of his leg. A soft buzz sounded behind him and before he could look to see what it was, his mom popped up in the front seat, her hands around the wheel, staring at Drew like he had half a brain.
“Get a hold of yourself, Drew. She’s a child. Comfort her, and for God’s sakes, stop lying to her.”
Drew jumped back an inch, taking Mya with him.
Laura gave Drew an understanding nod, one that said you know what to do and that I didn’t raise an idiot, then his mom faded away.
Drew scratched the back of his head a
nd looked down at Mya.
The breeze blew again and Mya squeezed tighter around his leg, doing her best to block herself from the mountain air.
He placed a hand on her back. “Your dad is working. He’ll join us when he’s done. Might be a few days, a week, and hopefully not more than a month.”
She glanced up, her eyes wide. “He’s here?”
Drew looked around. “I don’t think so.” He eyed the store. He’d have to break in, find a tube and shove it down into the truck’s gas line and siphon the gas out. The store better have a gas can.
“What’s that?” Mya unwrapped an arm from Drew’s leg and pointed behind him.
A small drone was hovering above and behind the truck and in front of the trees that lined the property. It was the buzzing sound he’d thought he’d been hearing. It dipped to the side, indicating something.
It dipped again.
Drew furrowed his brow. “Get behind me, Mya.”
Drew walked slowly, taking short steps so Mya could use him as a shield, just in case this small drone was Chinese and had a gun.
“It’s really neat,” said Mya, pulling out from behind him and running toward the drone.
Drew reached his hand out, doing his best to grab her, “No, Mya.” He chased after her, imagining automatic rounds blasting out of the drone’s nose, Mya getting hit, taking the blunt force into her chest, vibrating as each bullet pounded her like he’d seen in movies.
None of that happened.
Mya made her way beneath the drone and tried to grab it, jumping up, giggling like a six-year old who’d forgotten about their mommy, daddy, and anything else in the world except for the joy of the moment.
“Don’t, Mya.”
The drone lifted in the air, and turned around, giving another dip.
Where the tree line met the pavement, the terrain had a slight decline – almost a hill, but not quite. The drone avoided a tree, moving into the woods, down that decline.
Drew picked up Mya, her legs wrapping around his waist, her hands grasping his coat. She jabbed a finger at the drone, her lips down turned. “Did I scare it?”
“No. I think it wants us to follow it.” He patted her heart. “What do you think?”
She gave a slow nod, her eyes as innocent as a baby. “I think so.”
Some teenage techy was probably flying that thing, seeing what was going on in his town.
Drew stepped over a downed branch, then around a stump, heading a few yards into the wooded area. The drone bucked right, changing its direction.
Drew continued to follow, Mya still in his arms.
The wind picked up and they rounded another tree. Looking up, gray clouds were coming in. Rain was on its way.
The drone hovered ten yards. Then moved up and down several times, dipping left and right, left and right, over and over again until Drew could see why.
More than a dozen 5-gallon gas cans sat around the base of a tree.
Drew stopped, putting Mya down. “Stay here.” He slowly took a step forward, hearing the leaves and branches under his shoe. He surveyed the area at his next step, wondering where the trap was. He bent down and picked up a heavy rock, then threw it near the can, half expecting a net to rise up from under the leaves and carry the gas cans, and anyone else who may have gotten caught, up into the air – defenseless.
He looked back at Mya. She was gone.
His heart fell, then he heard the leaves rustle. He spun on his heels, seeing Mya already at the gas cans, checking them out. He let out an exasperated breath, speaking softly to himself, “Fucking kid.”
He strode to the cans and took off one of the caps. A stream of fumes punctured the air. “It’s fuel,” he said.
The drone lowered, then dipped a few times. A stream of light came from its belly, then a man stood in front of them. He wore a tie, blue suit, and had his hands on his hips. He almost looked like his uncle Jaxx, but a bit older, more wise, his eyes confident.
“Hello, Drew.” The man smiled. “I’m President Jefferson Kennedy. We need your help. Continue your course.”
The man disappeared and the drone lifted upward and over the canopy of trees. It sped away, the buzzing sound drifting off until they couldn’t hear it anymore.
Drew put his hands over his mouth. “Did you see a guy standing there by chance?”
Mya stepped back. “Yeah.”
So he wasn’t hallucinating again.
He bent down and lifted two gas cans. “You think you can lift one?” he asked.
Mya tried, then shook her head.
“Alright. Stay with me. No running off.”
28
J-Quadrant, Solar System
Flood of Dawn, Callisto
A day after her crazy flight to East Rise, the invasion-laden, fucked-up city just east of Flood of Dawn, Rivkah was bunked up with the maximally-annoying Captain Katherine Bogle. They were in a clear dome with nothing but beds and crystal walls.
What was worse, she couldn’t get her mind off of the girl being torn apart by those monsters, the Kelhoon. She knew about their mass-murdering feeding habits, along with their ambition to rule the galaxy, but had never seen it first-hand. She never wanted to see it again. In fact, she wanted that entire race exterminated. She’d love to do her part now.
“You’ll be able to do your part very soon, Rivkah. But, it will come at a price,” said Bogle.
Rivkah sat up. “What did you just say?”
Bogle looked off in the distance, staring at something Rivkah couldn’t see. “I am the web that keeps you and the two together. I will not steer you wrong. Only you can steer you wrong.”
Rivkah crossed her arms. “What the fuck are you saying?”
Bogle blinked her eyes several times. “Huh?”
“You won’t steer me wrong? Who thinks I’ll let you steer me anywhere? If it were up to me, I’d be off this planet and finding my way back to Oklahoma where I could have a little peace and quiet.” She looked down. “I should never have left.”
Bogle scrunched her eyes up. “What are you talking about?”
“You just said you’re the web that keeps me and two others together.”
Bogle snorted. “You were dreaming.”
Rivkah waved her hand in the air. “I wasn’t, but you probably were. Forget anything I just said and I’ll gladly forget anything you were saying.”
Bogle rolled to her side, her back to Rivkah. “You don’t like me, do you.”
Rivkah kept her mouth shut.
“Well, it’s okay. I will grow on you.”
“I hope you grow off of me. Let’s just stay quiet from now on.”
Bogle leaned back, staring at Rivkah. She closed her eyes, then opened them wide, her eyes set to the distant wall. “You are to protect these people. You will take orders from me telepathically while you fight the good fight, while you keep the three hounds at bay.”
Rivkah jumped off her bed and stomped over to Bogle, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back.
Bogle kept her eyes positioned on the wall. “It is against Universal Law to invade another’s space without permission.” Rivkah’s hand went numb and without her control, she loosened her grip from Bogle’s hair and dropped her hand to her side.
“Ow,” Bogle rubbed her head where Rivkah had pulled. “Why does my head hurt?”
Rivkah looked around. Something was up and she wasn’t liking it. She went to the crystal wall, touching it, looking for a door somewhere – anywhere. She had to get out of here. Another escape, another run from the darkness outside of her. “Where the hell is the door?” She walked around the room, doing her best to locate a button or a lever.
The door opened across from her. A man walked in.
“Morning Star?” Bogle went to him, like a wife to a long-lost husband, and gave him a hug.
Morning Star laughed. “Well, aren’t you happy to see me.” He motioned for Rivkah. “Captain Rivkah Ravenwood, we have someone for you to see and Captain Katherine
Bogle, please come with me as well. We’re going to place you into the Cultivation Room to get you ready for combat.” He said it matter of factually, as if that’s exactly what they would do without complaint.
Bogle let go of the Morning Star and leaned back. “The Cultivation Room?”
Rivkah wanted to know what the Cultivation Room was as well. Maybe the Cultivation Room would take out Bogle’s voice box? Keep her silent for the rest of her life? That would be a plus.
“It won’t harm you. It will enhance you. It’s your destiny,” replied Morning Star.
Bogle put her hands out. “Not interested.”
Morning Star dipped his head, bowing compassionately. “I understand.”
Rivkah, on the other hand, would be happy to get out of this trap. “Take me to your leader.”
Morning Star cocked his head to the side. “Leader?” His confusion turned to a smile. “Uh, our Master. You will see her, but we are taking you to your friends.”
Rivkah almost laughed. “I don’t have any friends.”
“Oh, I see. Kaden Jaxx and Captain Richard Fox are not your friends?”
Rivkah’s eyes went wide. “Are they here?”
“Yes, yes. Jaxx, on the other hand, is barely here. He’s covered in blood, doing his best to keep Fox at bay, which he’s doing a mighty job, by the way.”
Rivkah’s hands went into fists. “What did you do to him?”
“It’s what Fox is doing to him. Please follow me.”
29
J-Quadrant, Solar System
Flood of Dawn, Callisto
Jaxx was in the air, pressed against the wall, his jaw clenched. He was in pain, but not physical, more mental. It was like his mind was being sucked into a black hole and he was doing everything in his power to keep his mind intact.
Fox laughed. “I like this power thing...brother.” Fox, laughing at his own joke, not believing for an instant that this man, this traitor of all traitors – Mr. Kaden Jaxx – was his brother. “I’m draining you. You feel that?”
Destination Atlantis (Ascendant Chronicles Book 2) Page 13
