Cosmic Girl: Lost & Found: Superhero series for young adults - Book Three.

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Cosmic Girl: Lost & Found: Superhero series for young adults - Book Three. Page 1

by R S J Gregory




  Cosmic Girl

  Lost & Found

  R S J Gregory

  Copyright © R S J Gregory, 2015

  The right of R S J Gregory to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him.

  Cover illustration by Dawn Austin.

  http://www.austinillustration.net.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of R S J Gregory.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Chapters

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty One

  Twenty Two

  Twenty Three

  Twenty Four

  Twenty Five

  Twenty Six

  About the author

  Chapter One

  Cosmic Girl

  Lost & Found

  R S J Gregory

  One

  I scratch my head as I rack my brains.

  Who am I? How can I not know my own name? How did I even get here?

  “Well, you gotta have a name.” Abigail says as she stares up at me. “Seeing as you look like an angel, I’ll call you Angela.” Abigail declares happily.

  Another stab of pain in my head makes me groan, and I clutch my head with both hands.

  “You okay?” Abigail asks.

  “Just a headache.” I grumble as I massage my throbbing temples.

  “Wow. Your eyes sure are pretty.” Abigail says and smiles. “How come your eyes glow?” She asks as she blinks up at me.

  “I wish I knew.” I shrug.

  I look up the street when I hear a thump in the distance, like something heavy falling on to the ground. I feel the ground tremble slightly beneath my bare feet.

  “Whoa, what was that?” I ask.

  Abigail spins around and looks over the rusty cars as she sniffs the air.

  “Oh no,” She grabs my hand. “Quick. We have to hide.” She says urgently and pulls my arm.

  I let her lead me down the street towards the tank. The side facing up the street is dented in several places, and the track is missing. Its dull green paint matches the moss that’s covering the ground, so that it blends in with the street.

  Abigail crouches and slides under the tank on her tummy. I crouch down and look at her.

  “What are you doing?” I ask as she crawls towards a circle of darkness.

  “Hurry. Follow me.” She urges me and turns around and begins to climb down an open manhole.

  I hear a loud crash behind me, and strange laughter. I get down on my tummy and crawl in after her. I turn around and feel for the opening with my bare feet. A rusted car slides down the street and slams into other cars in my field of vision, making a horrible metallic grinding screech, making the other cars flip on to their sides.

  “Come on, Angela.” I hear Abigail plead from the darkness below.

  I slide my feet into the hole and find metal rungs with my toes. I plant my feet on one rung and begin to climb down.

  Wow, it’s dark.

  I climb slowly, feeling my way with my feet. After a few minutes I set my foot down on something soft and wet.

  Eww, please be moss.

  “Abbie.” I whisper into the darkness, as I feel around with my hands. I hear something click nearby, and a shaft of torchlight appears, highlighting Abigail’s small face. She points the torch in front of her, and begins walking. I follow as she sweeps the light back and forth along the slimy floor.

  That’s when I see the rats.

  Their small grey bodies dart along ahead of us, as they shy away from the torchlight. The ground itself is made of stone, covered in dark green spongy moss. The air feels moist, and stinks of decay, and rat feces. As we approach a turn in the tunnel, the light splutters and dies. Abigail complains and smacks the torch with her palm.

  “Damn.” Abigail mutters, then I hear her clothes ruffle and there’s a squelch in front of me.

  I feel her hand on mine and she grabs my fingers.

  “This way.” She whispers, and she pulls me along.

  I get another headache, and rub my eyes with my free hand. I blink and focus my eyes on my hand, and the dark shape comes into focus, then something strange happens.

  My hand changes color. It starts glowing red, mixed with yellow and orange in places.

  I look down at Abigail as she holds my hand in the darkness, and she is lit up in reds and oranges too. My heart races as I watch the colors glimmer and change in front of me in the inky darkness.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and take some deep breaths. I feel her tug on my hand as we go around an unseen corner. I open my eyes again, but this time everything is green. The walls of the sewer tunnel are a darker shade of green, while Abigail is in much lighter shades of green. My hand and arm are luminous green.

  “What the hell?” I blurt out as I stop and let go of Abigail’s hand.

  “What is it?” Abigail whispers as she turns and looks in my direction.

  “I can see.” I say and reach for her hand as she fumbles in the darkness. “Here.” I say and take her hand again.

  “You can see, in this?” She asks, and I see her frown.

  “Yeah.”

  “Your eyes look really bright in the darkness.”

  “Really?”

  “They look like twinkling stars.” Abigail says and she raises her small hand up to my face. She giggles and takes my hand. “This will come in handy.” She adds and pulls me after her.

  As I follow her, I gaze down the length of the sewer tunnel, admiring the brick work and pipes.

  The floor still feels slippery and wet beneath my feet. I hope I don’t catch a cold.

  “Abbie. Who was that, up there?” I ask.

  She turns her head and looks back at me for a second. I briefly see the light from my eyes shining back at me from her dark eyes, before she turns and continues walking, sniffing the air. There’s nothing but her breathing for a few seconds. Then she stops.

  “You really don’t know?” She asks.

  “Abbie. I don’t even know who I am. I woke up this morning in a strange place.” I say and frown. “I have no idea how I got here, and I don’t even know where here is.” I say, feeling very frustrated and more than a little scared.

  “Well, I heard the grown-ups call this place Kansas City.”

  I shrug. The name doesn’t ring any bells.

  “What happened, Abbie? Why is everything in ruins?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. It’s always been like this.” She answers and pulls on my hand again. “The grown-ups know.” She says and starts leading me again th
rough the sewer.

  “I’m not freaking you out, am I?” I ask.

  She giggles. “You’re interesting.” She replies and smiles up at me. “Yep. You’re unique, that’s for sure.” She says, then turns on her heel and marches on past another set of steel rungs embedded in the wall.

  “What were you doing up there, anyway, all by yourself?” I ask after a few minutes.

  “I saw something fall from the sky. I wanted to go see.” Abigail says.

  “Did you find it?”

  “No.” She replies, and sighs. “It was a long shot. Too much rubble.” She grumbles.

  “Where are we going, Abbie?” I ask after a few more minutes of walking.

  “We need to find my family. I need to warn them.”

  She certainly seems to know her way, even without a torch. I smile as I follow this sure-footed young girl through the sewers. Whenever we get near some metal rungs, she tilts her head up and sniffs, before moving on. Eventually she stops and points to a steel rung of a ladder.

  “I’ll go first.” She says and I hear the thump of her boots on the metal rungs.

  I place both hands on the ladder and wait. I hear her groan above, then something heavy and metallic is moved. A shaft of sunlight illuminates Abigail and the dull metal ladder. She gestures with her hand for me to come up, so I begin to climb the ladder. She looks down and puts her finger to her lips as I get closer.

  “Ssh. We have to be careful. No noise, okay?” She whispers down at me.

  I nod my head, and she climbs out and disappears. I quickly follow her and poke my head out from the manhole.

  Abigail is crouching by some bushes, peeking over the top and waving me over. I climb out and scuttle over and crouch near her.

  “What is it?” I ask as I look around at our surroundings. Behind us is a wide open space with some trees. To my left, a walkway goes across the street above, creating a shaded stretch of road, where cars lie abandoned, some are crushed.

  I watch as Abigail looks around, before looking towards the huge building in front of us. Ivy and plants are covering the majority of stone and glass, but two huge glass doors still stand intact and clear, fifty feet from our current position.

  “Wait here.” She says, then crawls to the edge of the bush. She stops and looks back at me over her shoulder. “Oh, and try not to do anything interesting, okay?”

  I frown and shrug. “What do you mean?”

  “No weird eye thing. My family can be a bit jumpy. Okay?”

  I nod, then she turns and hurries towards the entrance.

  I wait and peer around the bush and watch. A high-pitched howl breaks the silence, and I turn and look behind me. I still see everything illuminated in shades of bright green. It’s starting to hurt my eyes now. I squeeze my eyes shut and rub my temples. When I open my eyes again, the greens are replaced by normal colors, and I look up at the orange sky, as a bird of prey circles overhead.

  My tummy is churning nervously as I watch the great bird circle twice, before vanishing over some half demolished buildings. I turn my attention back to the shrub shrouded building when I hear hushed voices. Abigail is speaking to a hooded figure, who is standing by the entrance with a rifle slung over their shoulder. Abigail turns and points towards the bush I’m hiding behind.

  The hooded figure looks in my direction, then removes the rifle from their shoulder and points it in my direction.

  “Come out, where I can see you.” A man’s voice calls out from the hood.

  I stand up and step out from behind the bushes.

  “Who are you?” The hooded man asks while raising his rifle.

  “She’s my friend.” Abigail says in protest.

  “I don’t know who I am.” I say and take a step forward.

  “What do you want?” He asks gruffly. “Did she hurt you?” He asks Abigail as he steps past her towards me.

  “I just want food and shelter...” I say, then look down at my bare feet. “...and some clothes would be amazing.” I add.

  “She’s nice. Give her a chance, Jason. Please?” Abigail pleads and tugs on the man’s long overcoat.

  “No one gets a free ride. You pull your weight, or you’re on your own.” The man says and lowers his rifle.

  “Deal.” I nod my head eagerly.

  The man’s hooded head looks left and right, then he motions for me to come over. I pad over and stand before him. He towers over me. The hood covers most of his face, while some brown fabric covers his mouth and nose, so that only his brown eyes are visible as he regards me. He steps back and opens one of the large glass doors. Abigail hurries inside and I follow her. I stop as Abigail looks up at me and gives me a warning look.

  “Remember, no weird stuff.” She whispers.

  “I’ll try.” I say half-heartedly.

  The man enters and closes the door behind him. He removes his hood and looks down at Abigail.

  “I thought we told you not to run off by yourself?”

  “But I had to find the falling star.” Abigail replies and grins up at the man.

  “Go and see Theresa, right now. She’s been worried sick.” The man says angrily, pointing to the dusty escalators.

  Abigail turns and hurries up the motionless escalators.

  “Hi. I’m Jason.” The man says and extends his gloved hand.

  “Hi.” I say and take his hand timidly.

  “So what do we call you?” Jason asks as I shake his hand.

  “Abigail named me. She seems to like Angela.” I say and shrug as I let go of his hand.

  He looks at me with a confused expression and shakes his hand.

  “Angela it is.” Jason says and slings the rifle over his shoulder again. “You really don’t know who you are?” He asks and gestures towards the escalators.

  “Not a clue. I woke up today, surrounded by rubble.” I reply as I begin to climb the metal steps. I leave out the fact that I was naked. No one needs to know that.

  “Theresa will help you find some clothes.” Jason says as he follows me up to the first floor. “But you need to speak to Max first.” Jason motions for me to go up to the next floor, so I comply.

  The areas around us are mostly barren, except for the occasional large penguin toy and bean bags spread over the dusty floor. The only source of light is coming from the glass entrance, so as I go up, it starts to get darker.

  I can taste the dust in the air. The whole place looks deserted.

  I look around me as I climb the metal steps, but I can only see so far in this gloom. I concentrate on climbing without tripping. My legs are beginning to tremble from the hunger. I feel like I haven’t eaten in a year. Which could be true, I have no idea.

  I begin to hear Abigail’s voice as I reach the second floor. I see her sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a dark haired woman. The woman is brushing Abigail’s hair with a short haired brush, using long, slow strokes.

  “I don’t know how many there were, but it sounded like at least four of them.” Abigail was telling the people around her.

  A young man to the left of the woman, lies on his side on some cushions as he listens, resting his blond head on one hand. On the right side of the woman, sits a man wearing a thick black parka and brown corduroys. He sits casually as he listens, but then his head snaps around as we approach. His weathered face is a mix of amusement and concern. His bristling dark blond beard and moustache trembles when he speaks.

  “Is this your new friend?” The man asks Abigail in a gravelly voice, as he eyes me.

  “She’s nice. Hasn’t got a clue who she is, but she’s nice.” Abigail replies happily.

  The man rises in one fluid movement as Jason steps past me. I feel exposed, like I’m standing naked before his steady gaze. His gray eyes don’t blink as he steps toward me.

  “Unusual eyes.” He murmurs as he stops in front of me and crouches.

  I try to hold his gaze as his eyes bore right into me. I try to smile, but when he doesn’t return my smile, I
falter. He stands up and begins to circle me slowly.

  “No shoes, no socks, no jacket, no weapons.” He mutters as he walks around me slowly.

  “Maybe she was attacked.” The woman says as she looks over at me, while still brushing Abigail’s hair slowly.

  “Maybe.” The man mutters, then he stops in front of me again. “I don’t like maybes, and what’s with your eyes?” He says and points at my face. “Do you see that?” He says over his shoulder.

  “It’s strange. The way they glow blue like that.” The man stirring a pot says while looking over at me.

  “Have they always done that?” The woman asks as she stops brushing Abigail’s hair, and wraps her arms around her tiny waist.

  “I don’t know. I woke today, with no memory.” I say, emphasizing the no part.

  “I’ll vouch for her, Max.” Abigail says.

  The man turns and looks over his shoulder at her. Abigail’s eyes flit down and she sighs.

  “You got twenty-four hours. If you behave yourself, you stay for another twenty-four hours.” Max says as he crouches and looks me in the eye.

  “Thank you.” I murmur and look back at him.

  “If you endanger any of my people.” He says and leans closer. “I’ll kill you.” He adds, then steps back. “Got it?”

  I nod as my eyes start to well up.

  “Go, eat something.” Max says and gestures towards the small group.

  The smell as I get closer is amazing. A man with a red bandana wrapped around his forehead is stirring a large pot. The contents are a luscious dark brown, and are bubbling away as he stirs the pot. The steam coming from the pot is a welcome relief.

  I don’t know why I’m so cold.

  I warm my shivering hands around the small campfire that sits under the metal pot.

  “Hi.” I greet the others, as I swallow a sob and focus on warming myself.

  “So, Angela, do you like elk soup?” The man stirring the pot asks me, and eyes me with a curious look.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never had it before.” I mumble.

  “You’re going to love it. Jeremy’s food is amazing.” Abigail says, with a grin at the man stirring the pot.

 

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