“Good morning, babe.” His wife, Kayla, said as she walked into the chamber behind him. He turned to greet her.
“Well, good morning, beautiful!” He gave her a warm hug and a quick kiss. “Max still asleep?”
Kayla shook her head, “No. She is down the hill. I wonder if there is a way that she could get some distance from her dogs. There are so many now, and she seems almost incapable of concentration with that many thoughts flowing through her brain.”
Ted smiled. “She doesn’t want to disengage, honey. She likes this. She is happy, which is more than I can say for most right now.”
“That is a fair point. It just worries me.” Kayla began dusting off the stone benches for people. They had these council meetings once per week, but the room still got filled with dust and the occasional snow drift.
Kyle Ward, Britton Casco and Erica Cross all walked in together, laughing about some hidden joke. Ted inclined his head in greeting to his nephew and his nephew’s boyfriend, before giving the pregnant Mrs. Cross a big bear hug.
“Good morning, you all!” He said jovially. They all replied in kind as the final three members of the council, Pastor Rich Carson, Dr. Emma Pare and Ted’s mother-in-law, Beth Merritt, joined them. Jenny Martinez was not at the Bluffs right now, instead being on a quick mission to retrieve some items from the museum downtown with the Ko brothers.
“I left Jordan to take care of Cooper,” Emma started, “Less distraction than the last time.”
“That is very kind of you to consider,” Ted answered, “But it really isn’t necessary. I doubt anyone minds him coming to the meetings.” Ted looked around the room, and no one seemed to disagree. “Shall we get to it, then?”
Everyone took their seats around the fire, as Beth passed out some baked goods she had brought with her.
Ted began, “So, the weekly Council meeting begins with an accounting of goods. So, how do we look?”
Britt went into a long accounting of their food and supplies. They were in good shape, and Emma followed with a report on the planting they had begun and the livestock that were in the pens. Over the last year and a half, the Bluffs had accepted trade in livestock and seed from farmers on the eastern plains. Those trade deals had dried up, as had most from the east.
“Has anyone heard anything about why we haven’t seen folks from the east? Is it possible we have another group of healers out there?” Ted asked.
Erica spoke up. “That would be wonderful, but we shouldn’t assume. It brings me to what Adam wanted us to talk about, the itineracies.” The response was expected, as there were some who really believed in the idea and some who felt that safety was better. Erica broke in, “When we formed this council, we said we were here to make the world more livable and a better place for survivors. How can we say we are doing that when we sit behind stone walls and wait for the needy to come to us?”
“How do we know it is safe, Erica? What has changed to make us think that time has come?” Britt was a former cadet commander at the Air Force Academy and had certainly been trained at security, but Kyle interrupted him.
“Safety, can’t be our only concern.” Kyle offered. It was clear to Ted that this was an ongoing disagreement between the two.
“We have talked this out for weeks, or months. I think it is time for a vote.” Ted said. Although they had an even number at the moment, Jenny’s vote would not have mattered, since everyone except Britt and Beth voted to form itineracies and send them out. They had decided to send six teams, each with a healer, a warrior, a kinetic and an empath. They would leave after the Easter celebration, which Ted liked to think of as the Spring celebration. He was not fond of religious observances. This gave them two weeks to prepare. Erica let them all know the healers they had already picked and as a group, they decided on kinetics. Jenny was considered to be the best choice to determine which empaths to send, so they would get her info when she got back. Britt gave his recommendation for warriors, but was quickly cut off by Kyle.
“I want to go,” Kyle stated rather plainly, and Britt looked at him with surprise and concern.
“As an empath?” Britt asked.
“As a warrior. I may not have fighting powers, but I am still one of the best fighters in the group. Additionally, I think it is important that we, as Council members, support these itineracies with our own involvement if we want them to succeed.”
Britt bristled at even the thought of his love venturing out into the unknown. Not for the first time, Ted thought about the negative consequences of so many on the Council having close relations with one another.
The conversation went on for a while, but there was no denying the logic that Kyle laid out. He had been thinking about this for some time and telling no one. For every argument Britt or Beth made, Kyle had already developed an answer. It struck Ted just how much Kyle was like his father. In the end, they chose the teams and those teams included Kyle, Jenny and Rich as representatives of the Council. Britt was able to successfully lobby to have Kyle and Jenny together on their team, since Jenny did not prefer to lead. Her inner sight tended to get in the way of effective leader communication.
As the meeting wrapped up, Ted watched Kyle and Britt walk away in a heated discussion. He turned to his wife, “You think they will be okay?”
Kayla glanced over at the men, “They will, or they won’t. Worrying about it won’t change anything.”
Ted smiled at his wife. He wondered how she would have responded if he had told her he had decided to be gone for months ahead. Then he remembered, he had told her that many times in his life, as he prepared for deployment. He lingered in thought on long-past arguments, the distance they created, and the trust that coming home always increased.
CHAPTER SIX
There were no vines covering the doors. No one had smashed in any windows. In fact, it seemed like no one cared about this building, even Mother Nature had left it to its own devices. Cliff peered through the glass doors of the Downtown Museum of Art, and could still see the paintings and sculptures inside. He waved his brother, Kin, over and stepped aside for Kin’s ability to do its thing. Kin was a Telekinetic, or Telly, as the group called them.
Kin walked up to the door while Cliff and Jenny looked up and down the street for Bandits, or any other problem that might arise. Putting his hand to the door at the point of the lock, Kin closed his eyes and pushed with his hand, there was an audible click. He did the same at the bottom of the door and the first set of doors were open. The small group moved quietly inside the building and up to the gate, so Kin could work on the locks there.
Cliff kept watch, trying hard not to look at Jenny in her form-fitting yoga gear. The woman wore these clothes all of the time, unless it was especially cold. It was just what she felt comfortable in. But Cliff was fourteen and in the midst of a tsunami of hormones that drove him mad with lust anytime any woman was around. A beautiful woman in form-fitting clothing was like this new world’s version of porn, even if she was twice his age, and a close friend. Cliff adjusted himself, he didn’t really want Jenny looking at him right now.
Over the past year and a half, Jenny and Cliff had been the researchers of record for the Council, specifically in regards to powers. Cliff had found books that helped Jenny understand what the colors she saw meant. Unfortunately, that meant whenever she turned on her inner sight, she could see the lust just oozing off of Cliff. She had never brought it up, but Cliff knew that she could see it. That research was why they were here.
As they got past the inner gate, Kin pulled out a light stone, and the others followed suit. It was hard to pass by these wonderful works of art, but they were here for a reason. Cliff had found a reference to a potentially useful exhibition that had been going on at the museum at the time of the event. It was called “Mesopotamian Life of the Ancients” and included artifacts recovered from the occupation of Baghdad and the subsequent removal of these items when terrorist groups had begun destroying anything in Baghdad that they consid
ered against their religion.
Cliff looked back at Jenny, she was stopped in front of a painting. He walked back to where she was and reached his hand out to feel the history of the painting. He saw its history, including the death of some owners during the second World War, when the Nazis had stolen this work from a family. He saw the scenes that had played out before and after that and then opened his eyes to see the tear silently falling down Jenny’s cheek.
“Did you see it?” She asked.
Cliff nodded. She had taught him how to read an item better than he had already discovered. The death of the elder members of the family had been immediate, as the work was stolen. The return to one of the children after the war, and the scenes from her life of meaning afterward were joyous. This was the hardest part about being able to read items, it allowed the reader to peek into other people’s lives, to see their joy, their sadness, their tragedy and their triumph. He felt bad for people who did not have this particular ability, it was beautiful to see into other people’s lives. While sometimes too painful to watch, the ability gave one the opportunity to see the long history of an item, the older the better. They were now on their way to items that were multiple millennia old, the stories would be amazing.
Kin unlocked the door that closed the exhibition and they all walked in. Kin did not have the same abilities, so he did not stop in his tracks the way that Jenny and Cliff did. There were many items in the room, but right off to the left, there was an item that emanated a glow of power. Cliff had not reached out with his mind, he did not need to, it seemed to reach out to him. He turned to see Jenny staring at him.
“I guess you see it too?” he asked her.
“See what?” Kin asked looking around.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jenny replied, “Take everything. This is the mother lode. We need to get it back to the Bluffs.”
They began to gather every artifact they could put their hands on, including the small stone cylinder that was throbbing with power. It was a black stone, engraved with cuneiform writing all around it. There were no images engraved into it, just the language that none of them could read. Cliff quickly put it in the sack they had brought, gaining a quick image as he touched it of the soldier who had rescued it from the museum ahead of the terrorist attack. He didn’t have time for reading yet, they would do that when they got back. But a thought popped into his mind about the fact that no one had entered this building since the event.
“Hey,” he said to his brother and Jenny, “Didn’t they have a kitchen here, a restaurant or something?”
Jenny nodded, “For events and things.”
Kin smiled broadly at his little brother, “This building hasn’t been foraged.”
EARLY SUMMER
“You know the original paleontologists didn’t even know the term dinosaur. They thought they were studying the origins of dragons.” - Anthropologist, Dr. Kenneth Sloan
CHAPTER SEVEN
The clip-clop of galloping hooves was accentuated by a joyful laugh. Peri walked toward the sound. She had been told the tale of the woman, Annie Grace, whose power was said to be overwhelming and amazing. Toward this clearing on the south side of Black Forest, she walked to her destiny.
All her life, Peri had dreamed of being a different type of entity, something fantastic. She used to cosplay as a faerie or a witch, and when the new powers had arrived to the world, she had hoped to be one of those. In the end, she had shown a rather mundane ability with light. She could make herself and the area around her glow, which was okay, but not that special. Rumor had it that her old boss from the yoga studio, Jenny Martinez, was super powerful and was a member of the Council up at Red Rocks Bluff. But Peri had never been to see her, too ashamed of the way she had left her in the yoga studio back when the Event had happened. How could she face her now?
As Peri stepped into the clearing, the fire suddenly died and all noise stopped. No longer could she hear joyful conversation, or laughter, or the twittering of interesting creatures. Now she was in the pitch black of night, all alone. Out of the darkness, a woman’s voice sounded.
“Are you of the Faith?” the woman asked. Peri was filled with dread. She was sure that the tales were untrue about the church community at the edge of town that burned people, or hung them, or drowned them, for exhibiting powers.
“I am not a member of a church, if that is what you mean. I was out for a walk.” Peri peered into the darkness, her eyes struggling to adjust.
“This is an odd place for a walk,” the voice said. The tone of voice was colored with humor, Peri could make that much out. She had to take a chance, she was sure the stories about oppression of powers were not true anyway.
“Okay, I was looking for the lady.” Peri offered quietly.
A rough voice from her right, low and earthen, rang out, “What lady is that?” There was a giggle to her left and a high pitched sigh from a tree nearby.
The woman’s voice, calm as ever, asked, “Prove you are not of the Faith. Show your power.”
“It isn’t much,” Peri answered, “Just this.” Her immediate area lit up an almost daytime level of light. Unfortunately, it did not light up the surroundings, which remained shrouded in darkness.
The fire in the pit roared back to life, and Peri was finally able to see with whom she was talking. All around the clearing danced a gaggle of mythic creatures. There were three centaurs, talking to two satyrs. In the tree nearby sat four harpies, their heads turning on their necks like a swivel. Close to the fire stood five were-beasts, two of them like wolves, two of them like cats and one of them like a golden retriever. But at the center of the clearing, standing next to the fire pit, was a young woman in her thirties. She was short and stocky, with hair that reached down to her waist, straight and the color of earth. She had dark lashes, but bright, blue eyes that held her gaze intensely. This had to be the lady.
“Are you…?” Peri began.
“I am Annie Grace,” the woman answered, “Do you have a fantasy?”
Peri dropped her gaze in a little embarrassment, but reached into jacket pocket and pulled out a small envelope. “I do.” She said and handed across the envelope.
Annie pulled something small, but beautiful, out of the envelope. “Oh, what a wonderful choice.” The butterfly in her hand flapped its wings twice, but remained in her palm. “Follow me into the hut.”
They walked into the dark shack and Peri knew her life was about to change.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Open the gate .” Andy said, though not particularly loudly.
The men on duty swung the gate wide, allowing him to cross back into the safe confines of their little town. He led his horse by its bridle, walking next to her. The snow shined bright in the morning sun, reminding him to put on sunglasses to protect against the glare. The glare was brutal in the spring and early summer. He doubted there would be much more snow in the coming months, but Colorado always had a few snowstorms in June.
“General.” One of the guards said in a sort of greeting as Andy passed by. Andy just nodded his head in response. For a year and a half, the men had called him General Andy Summers, just as Lord Marshall Eric Fine had ordered. Andy was the titular head of the fighting forces of the walled town of Manitou Springs, but he was really just a bandit lord and he knew that. He had once been an enlisted man in the United States Army. After the Event and the Battle of Carson, he had been made the head of policing at the Compound, before it had burned to the ground through insurrection. Rather than destroying him, Fine had made him the leader. Andy did not enjoy this role.
Stopping to tie his horse to a hitching post in front of an old restaurant in the center of town, Andy considered the cost. He had assumed following Fine was the answer in this new world, but instead, he had seen that it was lonely and demoralizing. They had started with just over two hundred men. Through sickness, battles, and desertion, they were down to seventy-eight.
The Lord Marshall was jogging at this time of the d
ay. Andy knew his routine better than most. He would be roaming the hills to the west. The man never stopped his physical training, and continued to be in good shape in his late fifties. He was in better shape than Andy, and Andy was only thirty. To his surprise, he heard the stomp-stomp of Eric’s feet on the pavement as the older man finished his run early.
“I miss my music,” the Lord Marshall said as he came close. “There was nothing better than tunes to accompany a good jog.”
Andy nodded his agreement.
“How was your scouting trip, General?” Eric asked.
“The usual,” Andy offered. “Scarce population, patrols north of the highway by the Council’s people, survivors’ camps and survivors’ markets are popping up. It seems our bandits are not enough.”
Andy Summers did not say all that was on his mind. The Lord Marshall was noted for appreciating other points of view. Their existence, was barely that. They needed to do something new.
Eric nodded as he stretched. Almost as a side note, but also almost as if reading Andy’s mind, he added, “We may have to come up with new tactics.”
“Yes sir, just what I was thinking.” He couldn’t believe the slip. It had just burst out of his mouth, like he didn’t know to whom he was speaking.
Halting in his stretch, Eric looked for a long moment at his subordinate. After a quick assessment, he went back to the stretch, “Have any ideas?”
Andy cleared his throat, he wasn’t quite sure how this was going to go over. “Well, I think we need to form alliances.” Since Eric wasn’t interrupting, he continued. “I think if we send out bandits as protectors, we might gain more leverage.”
Fear of Mystics (Saga of Mystics Book 2) Page 2
