Undone: The Dark Skies Trilogy

by Lysa Daley

  An actual tumbleweed rolls past us through the snow.

  Seems like the Gathering has been watching a bunch of old Hollywood westerns.

  “Where do you think he is?” I ask, adjusting BrightSky on my hip. It feels good to have her back.

  “We can’t be sure Kraken’s even here,” my uncle scans the nearby storefronts.

  We’ve come looking for Kraken the Grey. Reliable intelligence informed us that after our little encounter with him in his opium den in Cairo, Kraken left town - he left the planet to be precise - and took up residence in the Gathering. This place is a totally neutral space. It’s the Switzerland of the alien world. Everyone, saint or sinner, is safe here. Even humans can find sanctuary if they can figure out how to get to the Gathering.

  We cautiously edge our way down the icy main street of this old west town. As we go, the snow seems to subside little by little until just gentle flakes swirl softly around us.

  If I wasn’t so nervous, I might even think it was pretty. In a Donner Party sort of way.

  Passing an empty ladies dress shop, I start to get a bad feeling. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

  “I’m sure this is the Gathering,” my uncle nods affirmatively.

  “Is something wrong because I don’t see anyone.” I gesture to all the vacant stores and cafes. “I mean, nobody’s here. This place is empty. It is an actual ghost town, ghost town.”

  My uncle squints. “Oh he’s here. I can feel it.”

  Chapter 31

  “It’s quiet.” My uncle stops and looks around. “Too quiet.”

  “I just think it’s creepy,” I say, glancing over my shoulder.

  He spots something and heads toward a low-slung building across the street. “I’ll give you that it’s strange, but if Kraken is anyplace, then he’s most likely in here. Let’s check it out.” He points to an old-fashion sign filled with lightbulbs that reads Saloon.

  Tinkling ragtime piano music fades in as we push through the swinging half doors. I brush the snow from my shoulders as the old plank floors covered with sawdust creak under my feet. A long dark mahogany bar stretches the width of the building. Bright gas lights hang from the ceiling, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone here.

  That is until a voice from the back corner speaks out, “Ah, I see the girl has retrieved her weapon. Just as the prophecy foretold.”

  Kraken, dressed like a ridiculous cowboy complete with a ten-gallon hat and leather chaps, leans back with his cowboy boots up on a round bar table.

  I’m confused. “Exactly which prophecy is he talking about this time?”

  When my uncle hesitates, Kraken seizes the opportunity to cause trouble.

  “Ah. She does not know?” he laughs. “She doesn’t know that once the Sword of Stardust has been returned to the seventh sister, then the cycle is complete.”

  “Be quiet.” My uncle levels his gaze in Kraken’s direction. “The girl knows what she needs to know and nothing more. You, of all people, shouldn’t meddle in other people’s affairs.”

  Kraken sneers. There’s clearly no love lost between these two.

  “The Chosen One should know the havoc she will bring upon her world.” He swings his cowboy boots down to the floor with a loud thump and stands. “That’s why no one is here. All the resident aliens have left this quadrant because they know danger is coming.”

  “She’s not responsible for any of this,” my uncle says back at him. “You can’t blame the girl for her birthright, for a prophecy that was spun long before she was born.”

  “What are you two talking about?” I try to interrupt.

  Kraken levels a disappointed gaze at me. “Darling, it is the beginning of the end times, the last days, the apocalypse. Have you not heard of such things? Honestly, what are they teaching kids in school these days?”

  “Leave her alone and stop talking in riddles,” my uncle barks, having lost any remaining patience.

  I see Kraken jolt just the slightest. Even horrifying grey aliens can be intimidated by my uncle.

  Lowering his voice, my uncle continues, “Why have all the human abductees fallen into a kind of coordinated coma?”

  “How should I know?” Kraken shrugs and looks away like he's the most innocent of men.

  “You would know because they were all abducted by the Greys.”

  “Not my problem anymore.”

  “If memory serves, you were in charge of human abductions until your… what do you call it? Oh yes, your — little incident — occurred with the ministry.”

  “I was framed!” he argues. “And you know it.”

  “Really? It seems to me there was some pretty serious evidence that you'd been dabbling with the chemical structure of illicit Earthly drugs.”

  “Please. I did humankind quite a service. I took their sad little intoxicants and made them so much more potent. The drug trade of that pathetic little planet wouldn't be anything without my pharmaceutical engineering skills. Coke fiends and heroin addicts should be erecting statues to me. Holding parades in my honor. But are they grateful?”

  “Let's get back to the topic at hand,” my uncle tries to steer the conversation in a more productive direction. “Are the Greys assisting the Draconians by making the abductees fall asleep now?”

  “You know us Greys. We’re scientists at heart. Always experimenting. Always trying to find the next race that we can genetically manipulate for the better. And trust me, brother, this human race needs a whole lot of manipulation. Unfortunately, they’re not at an evolutionary state where we can do much good with them. I mean, we only have so much to work with. They need at least another millennium. Maybe two to even get to a place where we can help them evolve.”

  “You make your kind and their horrible experiments sound so very honorable,” my uncle replies. “You're nothing but a filthy lot of sadists.”

  “Stop bickering, you two,” I intervene. “Kraken, if you’re not a part of the Draconian’s plan, then why not just tell us what you know.”

  Kraken focuses his big soulless almond eyes on me. It's unnerving. “Fine. The good news is the Draconians don’t plan to suck Earth dry of every living resource — the bad news is they pretty much plan to enslave the entire planet. They’ll strip it of its resources in the worst possible way then move on. True, the Greys have spent a century or so helping them cultivate an Earthly army to do their bidding.”

  “Why did you help?”

  “We have been well compensated for our work.”

  “How many abductees are there?” My uncle wants specifics.

  “I should think millions,” he says off the cuff. “Possibly tens of millions.”

  My uncle's eyes go wide, “That many?”

  Kraken laughs again. “A hundred thousand human abductees have been implanted over the last year.”

  “Why?” I ask. “Why are you doing this to innocent people?”

  “Oh darling, no one is innocent. Look at what they’ve done to their planet. But I fear I’m treading on cliche at this point. All the humans talk about is how they’ve caused their own planet to warm, but do you see them do anything about it? Well, I supposed they’ve tried to put something of a band-aid on a severed leg. Not terribly effective,” he pauses. “Anyway, I digress. We were paid to install a transponder or “a brain” on the planet. It’s there to reach out and activate the abductees when the time is right.”

  “What do you mean — a brain?” I ask, totally confused.

  Kraken rolls his eyes at my stupidity. “The brain is like a main frame computer that controls all of the implants in every abductee. Once it’s operational, the Draconians can activate their human army. Yes, it's true the abductees are currently in the state of stasis. But when they make up their mind that they're ready, the Draconians will wake them up so they can do much of the fighting against the rest of the human race. The invasion will begin, and the front lines will be fought human against human.”

  “So it's too late?” I
say. “You Greys have doomed us.”

  “Not us. Them,” he corrects me. “Don’t forget you are not one of them. You’re no human. You’re so much more.”

  “I feel like I’m one of them. I’m more one of them than one of you Greys.”

  “First of all, don't include me with the other Greys. I see myself as more of an independent contractor at this point,” Kraken explains. “And secondly, who said it's too late?”

  My uncle and I exchange looks.

  “What do you mean?” he asks.

  “When you find the brain…“ he stops himself and laughs. “Or, perhaps, I should say IF you find the brain, you may discover that it is not yet fully grown. Almost but not quite. If you locate and destroy it before it reaches maturity, then you may be able to severe the connection between the central brain and the implantees. However, if you fail to reach it in time, it will be virtually indestructible.”

  “How do you know all of this?” I ask.

  “Darling, I’m the one who designed the brain. A century ago.”

  “Where is it?” my uncle asks.

  “That I don’t know,” Kraken says, but I’m not sure I believe him. “I’ve told you more than enough. Leave me. You must find it on your own.”

  Chapter 32

  After we leave the lonely saloon, we hightail it back down Main Street of this deserted ghost town to the portal that will return us to Washington D.C.

  My uncle is in a hurry to report back to Fitz and the Eye’s central command. “If Kraken is telling the truth — and that's a big IF — then we don't have any time to waste.”

  According to Kraken, if the brain reaches maturity, it's game over. It will be too late for us to defeat the Draconians. The brain will allow them to unleash an unbeatable human army.

  The blizzard has only gotten worse. If the Gathering’s current meteorological mood is foreshadowing future events with her weather, then we're probably in a lot of trouble.

  Returning through the portal, directly into the dimly lit back section of the gourmet food shop, we discover that almost the entire work day has passed. The clock on the wall reads 4:15 p.m.

  “How long were we away?” I wonder aloud.

  “Just under six hours.” My uncle confirms the time with a quick glance at his watch.

  This is only weird because we couldn't have been at the Gathering for more than an hour.

  “Yes, time can be a little… warped, when you're moving through multiple dimensions.”

  I have no idea what that means.

  We move through the aisle toward the front door that leads out to one of Georgetown’s busy streets. The beautiful aroma of coffee fills my senses, and I'm suddenly craving another vanilla latte.

  “Hey, can we stop for a coffee? My treat.” My uncle looks like he's going to object, but I cut him off before he can. “I know the world’s about to end, and all that, but I’d love one more shot of caffeine.”

  He takes another irritated glance at his watch. It’s hard to argue with my logic. “I guess so. Order me an Americano with the double shot and extra foam.”

  While I wait in line at the espresso bar behind two people, my uncle wanders around the upscale grocery store examining spices and herbs and other gourmet delights. Besides being a badass intergalactic military mastermind and a kickass bodyguard, he also happens to be an amazing chef.

  I haven't thought about our old life back in California much with everything that's been going on recently, but it's been several months since he's been able to whip up anything in the kitchen.

  I feel a pang of sadness thinking back to our quiet, carefree dinners in our little rented house. I didn't even know how good I had it before the universe literally had to go and fall apart.

  That life seems so very far away now.

  When I get to the front of the line, I order our drinks and a half dozen perfect colorful macaroons that look like they were made by fairies.

  While I’m waiting for the barista to finish our drinks, my uncle calls Fitz to arrange our transport back to the hotel.

  As he hangs up, I hand my uncle his coffee. He pops a raspberry macaroon in his mouth. He smiles and chews. “These are delicious.”

  “Maybe you should learn how to make them,” I suggest, to see what he’ll say. I’m secretly hoping that he’ll admit to missing our old life too.

  As we head to the front door, he considers my question for a moment. “I'm pretty sure you need French almond flour to make them the right —“

  Boom!

  The glass front door shatters inward raining tiny razor sharp shards at us.

  On the sidewalk, ten feet from the front door, half a dozen Horlocks, wearing their ever-present black suits and dark sunglasses, storm the store.

  We instinctively whip around, racing back in the other direction. I sure hope there's a back door someplace.

  There is a rear entrance. Unfortunately, four more black suits have come in through it and are swiftly storming up behind us.

  “Now what?” I ask, really hoping he has a great idea.

  My uncle sighs then takes a big swig of his drink, before he flips the cover off throwing scalding liquid at the four suits behind us.

  It’s simple but effective.

  They cry out in pain, and my uncle says, “What a waste of an exceptionally good cup of coffee.”

  “I pop a coconut macaroon in my mouth and set everything else down. I grab the red umbrella dangling at my side in front of me circling it around, transforming it back into the Sword of Stardust. I cloaked it when we left the Gathering.

  It's two against ten. Impossible odds. k12

  As usual.

  We may be good fighters, but those odds are pretty tough.

  “Just try to hold them,” my uncle says to me. “Fitz and his backup should be here any second.”

  Before I can reply, the suits surge from both directions swarming us. My uncle and I stand back to back. He faces the six to the front, while I prepare to do battle with the four latte scalded thugs behind us.

  The biggest of my foes comes crashing forward. Somehow, I strike a lucky blow, and I take him out with a single swift blow to the ankles.

  This does double duty by also tripping the two agents who were following him.

  It gives me a split second to roll sideways down the pasta aisle.

  As I dash away, uncertain as to where I'm going, I hear my uncle’s voice calling from behind me, “Try to get out the front door. And look for Fitz.”

  That's easier said than done.

  The two agents who were standing at the rear have cut down the aisle that runs parallel to the pasta section. For a moment, I’m afraid they’re going to beat me to the end of the aisle.

  I’m stuck. Now I can't go forward, and I can't go back.

  Chapter 33

  I sling BrightSky crossways through my backpack ninja-style, then climb straight up the metal shelves knocking bags of pasta and rice to the floor as I go.

  When I reach the top of the dusty shelf, I double back towards the front door. My uncle has been smart by drawing the six agents farther into the store which leaves the forward part of the gourmet grocery entirely unguarded.

  Of course, I don't know who's outside the front door. Another dozen suits could be there just waiting. I leap down from the top of the shelf in one fell swoop, crashing through the shattered front door. Unable to stop my forward momentum, I slam straight into Jax.

  “You!” I say, trying to dodge sideways. “Again. Again- again.”

  This is the third time he’s just popped up at a crucial moment.

  “I know right?” he winks. “My timing is fantastic.”

  Jax grabs me by the shoulders before I can get away. His grip is firm. Too strong for me to escape from. Then suddenly, we're moving in a time warp.

  I know, because I've done this before. It seems like the whole world has gone into slow motion, but what's actually happening is we’re moving in fast motion. Jax is a time shifter, wh
o can move at extra-supersonic speeds.

  We only travel ten feet away from the entrance when he lets go, and we come crashing back into regular time. I’m just about to slug him as hard as I can in the face when I see him raise his blaster and shoot a stream of purple energy at three suits who followed me out the door.

  I look back just in time to see them crumpled to the pavement, and realize Jax just saved my ass.

  My uncle, unharmed, bursts out the front door. He doesn’t seem fazed by the appearance of Jax. Instead, he looks up and down the street. “Where’s our transport.”

  Jax replies. “Think they ran into a little trouble on the way. Someone tipped the Horlocks off to your location.”

  “Had to be Kraken,” my uncle growls. “Scumbag.”

  We bolt down the street with a handful of Horlocks trailing us. Unfortunately, two black SUVs with darkened windows screech to a halt. The doors fly open and more agents spill out. The Horlocks are the ones who got backup.

  “This way,” my uncle says, as we cut down a blind alley.

  Unfortunately, it’s a deadend.

  And we’re trapped.

  Sunglasses Man himself appears. “Well, well, well, this is surely my lucky day. We get to take out three ugly little rats with one stone.”

  Our backs pressed against the wall, the Horlocks take aim at us like some makeshift firing squad.

  Jax looks weak. “I don’t have the strength to timeshift all three of us.”

  “Just take the princess,” my uncle barks. “Forget about me and save Astrid.”

  Understanding flashes in Jax’s eyes. He reaches for my hand, but before we make contact, he reels back, his whole body slams against the brick wall.

  My eyes go wide as I realize he’s been shot. Struck with the alien plasma. I scream as he crumples to the ground.

  As the suits raise their guns, aiming at us, my uncle pushes me behind his large body, using himself as a human shield.