“You did good, baby.” Xzion exhaled, then moved towards the pub. She couldn’t revel in the compliment or even take it in. Instead, she followed close behind him, reloading her gun on the way. There was no telling who or what was in there, so she’d be ready. As soon as they walked inside, they were met with a blood bath. Brown bar stools toppled over, and a juke box played ‘Friend In Low Places’, by Garth Brooks. The bartender and several patrons lay around, their throats gouged and blood smeared here, there and everywhere as if someone had finger-painted in their remains. The sight was a vomit-inducing torn page from a horror book.
“Oh Jesus…” Jayme’s lip trembled as she picked up her radio. “Oh my God, Xzion. They killed everyone. That’s Weston…he has owned this pub since I was a damn kid! What a sweet man!” She felt such extreme sorrow, piled high on top of the melancholy she’d already had deep within her. The sallow-faced white man was slung half way over the bar table, his eyes open and his mouth twisted in angst.
“Call who you need to call.” He patted her shoulder as he made his way back towards the exit after checking the place out. “There are no more in here.” He paused as he looked to his left and right, then over his shoulder back at her. “You’re all in, now…”
“I was all in the moment my child was born…”
He nodded in understanding, and then tossed her two specially designed grenades.
“There are shitloads of Morphitians out here, too. They are less likely to confront you out in the open like this though. Regardless, if you get suspicious, don’t hesitate. Blow that fucker up…”
And then, he disappeared out the pub door. It swung back and forth for a while, until she could no longer see him. The song continued to play as she surveyed the area, feeling like a small part of herself had been injured badly, though she never lost an ounce of blood in the whole night’s ordeal.
“Yes, this is Sergeant Jayme Khrome… I need several units down here at the Giddy-Up Pub. Call the coroner; it’s going to be a long night…”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Aton, sir!” A line of twenty-one Zarkstormian soldiers, giving their leader a formal salute, formed in the main building of the Zarkstormian morgue. Aton had arrived back home, his body breaking down from the Earth’s air and pollution and taking a much-needed break to regroup. Furthermore, as promised, he wanted to ensure that Zachary Khrome was safe and secure. The boy had arrived hours earlier, and by all accounts, in the nick of time. Washington D.C. was piling up more bodies than a slaughterhouse of turkeys the weekend before Thanksgiving. But those weren’t the only bodies of concern.
Aton looked at the neatly laid dead Zarkstormians, seven of them. Five were Intellects. One Warrior body was missing, but it was understood he was presumed deceased and taken as a prize. His men had killed hundreds, possibly thousands of the demons, but this was still a blow, one that would cause an upheaval, a true disaster in the morale of his planet.
“Cleanse and cover them, prepare them for their last burial rites, please.” Each solider nodded and walked swiftly to the bodies to begin the intricate process before cremation. Regardless of their evolution, they still conducted funerals, especially those of military rank, just as their Warrior ancestors had.
“Where is Zachary Khrome?” Aton questioned as he prepared to leave. One of the soldiers looked up and pointed out a side door, “He is with Dr. Iszox.”
Aton nodded and disappeared, his steps determined, his anxiety, mounting…
****
“So, you are saying they are not human? That doesn’t even make any damned sense, Gustoff!” The chief of police looked at the coroner’s report once again, then back down at the bodies covered in white sheets.
Coroner Gustoff snatched his glasses off of his face and rubbed his tired eyes. Since the beginning of the violence in the capital state, he’d been bombarded with a situation beyond his comprehension. He couldn’t keep up with all the cadavers piling in, and now, things had gone from overwhelming, to astounding. From outside appearances, these beings looked just like a member of his family, maybe of Swedish ancestry based on their features, hair and eye coloring. Upon further inspection however, their large, retractable incisor teeth took him aback as he gave their mouths a thorough exam. What confused him most was their blood, however. There was no blood type — not one that could be categorized — and the blood color once oxygen hit it was a silver so bright, it reminded him of metallic paint.
“You see these teeth?” He chucked the damn sheet off of one of the pale, almost hairless bodies. The chief of police reared back in fear as he glared down at the ugly stiff.
It gave Gustoff a chuckle, but he kept it buried inside.
“What…what the hell?!”
“Yes, these teeth are similar to those of a bob cat, only longer. Also, these beings have two hearts. Every single one of them I’ve cut open, there are two hearts, sir. Humans don’t have silver blood, either. I’m sure you’re aware of that,” Gustoff said in exasperation, for repeating himself for the hundredth time. “Nor do we have teeth like this. Even our ancestors didn’t have teeth like this. The only thing plausible, as odd as it may seem, is the double heart chamber. Some humans do in fact have this. It is a birth defect, but they rarely live long.”
“Well, that’s it! This could be an entire family with an odd birth defect, kind of like how when cousins keep marrying each other.” The chief of police laughed.
“Look.” Gustoff sighed, ignoring the ignorance and ill-placed joke from the man. “I called you down here at this late hour to show you this. I don’t know what to do with this information, but I know that people, including my very own family, want answers. Not all of the victims are —”
“Don’t!” Chief Dierrich zoomed close to him, pointing his stubby finger in his face. “Don’t you say that again, do you hear me?! You’ll just cause more hysteria and pandemonium than we already have. Now, who else have you told about this?”
“Well, no one because they are from crimes scenes and I —”
“Perfect!” Dierrich leaned in even closer now, so close, the odor of his coffee breath permeated the cool air of the frosty room. “Now you listen to me, Dr. Gustoff, and you listen good. If you want to keep your job, you make sure you get this shit out of this report!” He waved the pages around frantically.
“But I can’t do that! It would be —”
“You can, and you will! Now that’s final!” The big man stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Gustoff sighed and looked back down at the corpse. He stood there for quite some time, his arms crossed over his chest and that damn pasty body lying there on the tin-colored slab…covered in frothing liquid sterling.
“What the hell are you?!”
****
“And what do you have here, young man?” Aton smiled with pride as he took the small cube-shaped object from Zachary’s grip. Moving it like a three-dimensional puzzle, Aton had the game solved within seconds and handed it back to the young child. Zachary looked at it in amazement, his tiny fingers feeling all over the cube, turning it this way and that, trying to decipher what in the world just occurred.
“You couldn’t figure it out?” Aton’s brow rose as he studied the boy’s curiosity with the thing. “Let me show you how.” He took it away once again, mixing up the pieces as Zachary leaned close to him, his head affectionately on the man’s elbow. The boy’s body warmth felt strange, yet comforting. “You see, this is much harder than anything you’ve ever seen, but for a smart young boy like you, you will figure it out in no time. You see, these corners here have tiny numerals.” Aton’s eyes squinted as he pointed to the barely visible numbers on each corner of the puzzle cube. They are hints to your next step, similar to a chess game. Yes, we play chess here, too.” He grinned. Aton paused and touched the boy’s face, taken aback at how smooth his skin was. He’d become enchanted with Zachary’s smile, unable to control mimicking it. Now, he realized he wasn’t mirroring it at all;
his smile was genuine, too. He wasn’t certain he’d ever smiled that big before. It felt delightfully odd. Just then, Dr. Iszox entered the room.
“Aton, you aren’t going to believe this.”
Aton immediately grabbed Zachary from his side, and sat the boy on his lap. To do so felt instinctual, something a good parent should do.
“Yes, well, what is it?”
Dr. Iszox opened his mouth to speak, then looked dumbfounded at Xzion’s son. A slight smile toyed with the corner of the man’s mouth. He too, appeared a bit smitten.
“Not only is Zachary Warrior blood, like his father, he has an unbelievable amount of white blood cells, even more than his birth mother no doubt. In other words, it appears that his immune system is quite hearty. Internally, however, he does not have sacks covering his internal organs, as we do. He is built more like his mother in that regard, although the abundance of white blood cells seems to help with that deficit; they protect him from injury should he sustain one.” The doctor laughed. “He is truly incredible. I measured his brain as well. Look at this.” He handed Aton a clear sheet of paper with random drawings and diagrams.
“His brain is approximately the same size of his father’s at this age. He has an Intellect brain and I see here on the far left, he has the Warrior veins starting to grow. They weren’t there at his birth according to your first exams,” Aton stated as he studied the graphs.
“Precisely. Like his father, he has the best of both of our people, however, with this third component, that of human chromosomes, you’d think it would be a hindrance, but somehow his body has compensated for potential humanoid frailties. He openly demonstrates emotion, though I would not say to the extreme of Earthlings. He is stronger than a human child of his age, and brighter as well. He is truly a marvel.” He smiled at Zachary, who smiled back, then looked down at the clear puzzle he diligently tried to figure out.
“I also had a chance to take a look at his memories…”
“He…he’s recording all ready? But his eye isn’t even fully developed, and we’ve installed nothing. How is that possible?”
The doctor took a seat on a white stool and rolled closer towards the two.
“He is somehow using a part of his brain as a chart, to keep records, Aton. Remember you told me when Xzion was about fourteen or so, you discovered he was able to look at things just once, even complex scientific equations, and have them memorized in a mere minute or two?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it is the same thing, only, it is done a bit differently. You see, when I looked at his eye,” he pointed to Zachary, “though we’ve installed no device, there is a center in his brain, right to the side of it, that allows such storage. It is small, but it is there. If I’d had the chance to examine Xzion when he was a lad as well, I bet he had one, too. I’ve never seen anything like this and I believe it is based on Xzion’s unique genetic structure. Now, when I hooked up the brain monitor to Xzion’s son and examined him and his brain waves, it popped up almost instantly. It is watery, and resembles a minute puddle. Aton, he recorded his own birth, for goodness’ sakes.”
Aton stared at the doctor, completely speechless.
This boy is even more phenomenal than I’d originally imagined…
“I saw it with my own eyes. It explains why he had no fear of me when I first took him by the hand and led him to my laboratory upon his arrival for his physical exam.”
“Thank you for taking care of that on my behalf.”
“Of course.” Dr. Iszox nodded. “I needed to ensure he was okay here right away. I believe despite his young age, he knew what I wanted; he trusted me. He already knew me…remembered me quite vividly, holding him as a little newborn.”
Aton gripped Zachary a bit tighter. In their midst was not only their savior, but a medical mystery that, he was certain, the entire cosmos would want to get their hands on. No, he must guard and protect the youngster. He had capabilities no one ever deemed possible and furthermore, he was still a discovery in the making. Aton was so relieved Xzion finally conceded to allow him to take the boy away from harm’s way. Zachary was too important to their world, to all the worlds of the universe, as far as he was concerned.
“I believe Xzion had this as a child, Aton, but it may have disappeared over time. There are rumors that the first generations of our civilization were able to record without devices into adulthood.”
Aton swallowed. “I realize that. There is no proof of such, but, it is interesting, all the same. Could be simple folklore.” As he said this, he knew it was hogwash. The Warriors had amazing capabilities that the Intellects had tried to downplay. No, they were not scholars, but they were precise and their thought processes linear and accurate. It made perfect sense that they, too, would be blessed in such a fashion yet through evolution, it had fallen by the way side. Apparently Xzion and his child had brought it back into their century, full speed ahead.
“Aton.” Dr. Iszox rose and looked down at him sternly. “Zachary may be the key not only to our future, with his precious blood, but also to our past. He is the son of Xzion, but also son to Officer Jayme Khrome. Her donation to his existence cannot be snubbed. It has proven vital. She and Xzion, through their relationship and care for one another, whether we understand it or not, created someone truly out of this world…”
****
One day later…
“I must have a problem.” Jayme slung her silver-blood-stained shirt into one of three incinerators in their home. This one happened to be hand-constructed into the master bedroom wall.
“And what would that be?” Xzion asked as he lay across their bed, looking up at the ceiling, hands behind his head.
“I…killed more of them today, and I felt nothing. Nothing at all, just like before. One of them was just standing there...”
“Mmmm hmmm, and where did you see it?” Xzion continued to glare at the ceiling.
“He was loitering around the station, of all places. I have no idea how long he’d been there. Initially, I didn’t know it was a Yuledrake. It’s hard to tell.” She paused, then he heard her approaching him, her soft steps along the carpet barely audible. He surmised she’d already rid her body of her heavy boots and in their place were her toasty brown feet, carrying her right towards him…and there was nowhere else he wanted her to be.
“I’d just released Rizya.”
“From the jail?” He tossed a glance her way, causing her to stop in her tracks. Then he strained and turned away, glaring at the morning sun as it broke the sky wide open. Streaks of pale yellow ran along the pastel blue like a cracked egg, sunny side up.
“I was walking him out, trying to not bring too much attention to myself.”
Xzion nodded, focused back on the ceiling.
“All of a sudden, Rizya went ballistic. His English wasn’t the best, and I couldn’t get him to settle down, no matter what I said. His handcuffed wrists twisted and he struggled. I was certain he was going to break free and bolt.”
“…And he could have, but he was following orders. All of them knew in advance that should they be arrested, they must not fight with any of the human police officers, especially in public. We’d take care of it later. Continue on.”
“I followed his eyes and before anything could be said, I did as I was trained, and shot the stranger. I just blew his ass away, Xzion.” He felt her weight compress the bed as she slid close to him. The cinnamon sweet scent of her familiar fragrance filled his nostrils.
He ran his hand along her lower back. “And how do you feel about that? About the fact that you didn’t feel anything when you shot and killed that Yuledrake and all the ones before?”
“That’s just the thing.” She shrugged. “It’s like, I’ve always been this way, Xzion, but it’s worse now. What kind of person can take another person’s life and not care?”
“Me,” he teased, though he was mostly serious.
“Okay, excluding you, most people I’d think would have an issue wit
h it. Now sure, it wasn’t a real person, but he was still a life form and these things are trying to massacre us and enslave the remainder. Yet, even before all of this, I never had that problem. I didn’t understand what people were talking about when they said killing gets easier and easier once you keep at it. No, all my kills feel the same, ya know? I’ve never cared as long as I knew for certain I’d killed a bad person, or in this case, a bad entity. I go to sleep just fine about it. No nightmares or lost appetite, nothing.”
“So basically, my original statement stands. You’re saying you’re like me? Why is that so bad?” He grinned. He knew she was smiling too, but he didn’t look at her to confirm it.
“I just still can’t believe all of this is happening…”
She sighed and lay across his chest as he continued to caress her. He kissed the top of her head, enjoying the moment. Nothing felt better than her warm body against his tired frame.
“Where is Rizya?” he asked.
“In the party warehouse with some of the others. He is getting a couple hours sleep before he goes back out.”
Xzion nodded.
“So, now what?” Jayme ran her finger down the side of his neck.
“We wait, baby…we just wait.”
“But that’s the worse part,” she said softly, gripping his half-unbuttoned black cotton shirt in her palm.
“It is, but waiting is important right now. It’s part of the process. You know I have problems with patience too, Jayme. It’s not easy for me, but in this instance, it can work for us.” He gently stroked her soft hair. “When someone believes you are waiting on them, they feel they have all the power at that moment.” His voice came out gravelly, itchy and dry in his throat. He realized it was just his body settling comfortably against the woman he desired above all else. His muscles were relaxing at last, and his system was gently shutting down. “Whoever controls time controls the mind. As in chess, we made the last move; now we wait for our opponent to take his turn. In that patience, he will either somehow outwit us, or his error will be our gateway to victory.”
The Tale of the Blood Diamond Page 22
