The Omega Children - The Return of the Marauders - Book 1

by Shane A. Mason

  ‘It’s all thistles.’

  Lexington put the detective costume back on.

  ‘Exactly what I was cogitating. They look like someone planted them, so logically they must have a purpose. Plants are either food or medicine, or have another use, perhaps even ceremonial or a symbol like the Scottish thistle.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Ari said.

  The smell trail drifted across the field and veered to the right, heading west toward a far off line of Poplar trees.

  ‘I must cross field,’ Ari said walking amongst the thistles pain free. ‘My feet not feel them. Boy must have tough feet.’

  Quixote squinted, snagging up one corner of his mouth. ‘I thinks youse ain’t man enuff. These here sort out whose tuff and who ain’t.’

  A chilly wind blew from the west and some of the grass fronds poking through the thistles leant over. A few spots of rain fell – a threat to wash away the smell trail.

  ‘Must hurry,’ Ari said.

  Quixote screamed a rooting-tooting noise, yeeehaaa-ing and then sprinted off across the paddock.

  ‘I go,’ Ari said. ‘You girls work way round field. When I at other side, I wait for you.’

  ‘Ari,’ Melaleuca called to him though he dashed off after Quixote.

  ‘It seems likely these costumes may not have an altogether entirely positive effect,’ Lexington said. ‘I mean take Ari. His voice is changing and Quixote has led him off with little or no directions. Seems we don’t know where we are heading.’

  ‘We haven’t since we were attacked,’ Melaleuca said. ‘Hence we are now following Ari. My instincts say to follow. If they did not, I would have stopped it. Now come on.’

  Ari reached the line of tall Poplar trees first and felt some essence in them swell inside him. The smell-trail led to a small gap where two of the Poplar trees grew close together, forming a natural wooden arch. Quixote strode behind him and the dark denseness through the gap silenced him. They passed under it and walked amongst what seemed like a thick maze of intertwined fruit trees with sparse light eking through the leaves. Wrinkled and blackened mottled thick trunks and old knobbly branches attested to its great age. It looked as if someone had planted the trees with little thought and had left them to grow. They trod through it following a dirt path and soon neared the other side of it, though Ari dropped to the ground.

  ‘Shh - people are close – nearby. Quixote go back - signal girls, so they know where we are.’

  ‘Sounds mighty fine,’ Quixote said, taking off.

  Ari proceeded forward and the hackles on the back of his neck went up. A confused mass of other smell trails mixed in front of him. Many people had recently trod this way. He carried on following the trails, until the fruit trees ended and the trail traced a well worn path through waist-deep grass. He trod along the path, reaching an embankment, and pushed his way into the long grass, crawling to the top.

  Quixote stood by the Poplar trees. The girls were nowhere in sight. He pushed his hat forward, scratched his chin, grabbed a piece of grass to chew and then squinted as if staring into the full sun. He imagined standing in a blazing desert while facing down a horde of bandits. He scooted his eyes in a lazy arc around the edge of the field and a twig snapped behind him. He whirled about lightning fast, drew his pistol and pulled the trigger. A bullet zipped over the heads of Melaleuca and Lexington.

  From the top of the embankment Ari peered out across a large concrete courtyard to a dull grey-looking prison-like building. It had castle battlements on the top and rough stone walls. Hundreds of limp-haired children clad in sackcloth, milled around miserable faced. Some just walked around while others appeared to be...they appeared to be...

  ‘Can they be...,’ Ari muttered to himself and tried to crane his neck high enough to see without being spotted.

  A handful of children placed what looked like thistles and prickles on their bodies, pushing them into their skin. Older children barked words at them he could not hear, but he could tell they were not words of kindness. If only he could see further. In an instant his eyes acted like telescopes, magnifying what he saw at least twice its normal size. It happened so quick it took him by surprise - making it feel as if he had been propelled forward into the courtyard. He lost his balance and tumbled down the embankment.

  What was that?

  He pushed his way back up the embankment and stared out again, wishing for the same telescopic vision. His vision zoomed forward and despite feeling unsteady, he held his ground and took in the close-up view. He fixed his sight on a child, startled to see it was the boy who he had seen being chased. The child knelt slumped forward, clad in ripped sackcloth. A rope sat tied about his waist and his upper body had a mass of thorns, prickles and thistles jabbed into his skin. Streams of blood streaked down his body and his face showed intense pain.

  Ari scanned the other children who appeared to be having the same thing done to them. Mixed in ages and all on their knees, none of them seemed older than sixteen.

  I wonder if I can hear them as well. Their voices rose in volume and his hearing became more acute. He heard silent gasps mix with low droning sounds and he focused on the boy, hearing him suppressing tears. An older child stood over him talking; sounding like his spirit had been drained from him.

  ‘No noise. Keep quiet. Don’t let it out. Keep it on the inside. Focus. There is no pain. Pain is our friend. It keeps us sharp. Suffer now so that we don’t have to suffer later.’

  The droning became louder in pitch and then dropped away again. Ari tried to focus on what the other milling-about children said, but a gun shot rang out loud, shattering the air with its booming sound.

  ******

  Argus examined each bracelet, threading them through his fingers.

  ‘Metals not valuable, though it does feel strange. What’s the green glow?’

  The Harbinger coughed in admonishment and yanked the bracelet off Argus, returning it to the table.

  ‘Uranium to the untrained eye looks useless. These Pangean Bracelets power the costumes.’

  ‘Pangean? What the hell is that?’

  ‘The name of the bracelets.’

  Argus growled. ‘You’re telling me I left my home for bracelets.’

  ‘Would you stop doubting and fighting. Just follow me.’

  Up in the attic they entered the costume room.

  ‘Well, what do you think?’ the Harbinger said beaming at all the costumes.

  ‘What do you mean? It’s a bunch of old clothes.’

  Argus’s expression became fierce.

  ‘Tut-tut. Thomas, Thomas, Thomas. Let me demonstrate.’

  They walked along the rows of costumes and stopped before the mirror.

  ‘Pick a costume or a set of clothes,’ the Harbinger challenged him. ‘Something intriguing.’

  ‘If I wanted to play dress-ups, I would have worn your mother’s skirt.’

  ‘Pick!’

  Argus reluctantly reached out and grabbed the first costume his hand brushed against. He tore it off the hanger and threw it at the Harbinger, and a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. The words “strong man” lay facing up from it. The Harbinger disrobed and put the tights on and pulled the singlet over his aged body. He reached under the rack and put a gut-belt around him.

  ‘Now you see me,’ the Harbinger said.

  He knelt and produced a barely visible bracelet. It glowed black and he slipped it onto his wrist, and closing his eyes he started to calm his mind. Argus shifted his weight from foot to foot, clenching and unclenching his fists.

  ‘Well!’

  ‘Shut up and watch.’

  Looking serene, the Harbinger’s shoulders drooped forward and his breathing slowed. His arms and legs began bulging, and rippled muscles formed on his body, pushing against the singlet and tights. He stood, his face now square-jawed, and with a gnarled arm and massive hand, clasped Argus’s neck. Argus struggled and tried to pry open the grip.

  ‘...let...go...ca
n’t...’

  The large hand vanished and Argus threw the Harbinger off him. The Harbinger lay panting, and his body once again became aged and wrinkled, and the costume for a second time hung off him.

  Argus gazed down at him.

  ‘The bracelets make the costumes work?’

  The Harbinger coughed.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Let me try.’

  ‘Can’t work for you...’

  ‘Let me try!’

  Argus tugged the black bracelet off the Harbinger and pushed it on his arm. He threw his clothes off and grabbed a costume, a butcher’s apron and clad himself in it.

  Nothing happened.

  ‘Make it work!’

  Such power would surely get him out of this land.

  ‘It doesn’t work. That’s the point. I cleared my mind for a brief few seconds. That’s all I can manage.’ He started pulling his clothes back on. ‘Listen! Only the truly innocent can wield the bracelets.’

  ‘What use is this to me then if it does not work?’

  The Harbinger drew in a huge breath as if he was about to lambast him but stopped and composed himself. ‘Won’t work for you. You are to fight on behalf of the children. You have no choice.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You must sense it.’

  ‘Sense what?’

  ‘The world. The outside world is troubled deeply, deeper even than the end of the last age when the Etamols’ empire collapsed. When ─ ’

  ‘Wait. Wait. Wait. Are you telling me you believe that Antavahni freak?’

  Stunned, the Harbinger shook his head. ‘How can you not believe or be curious?’

  ‘I just don’t buy it?’

  ‘Don’t or won’t.’

  Argus squinted at the Harbinger. ‘No one does anything for nothing. What do you want out of this?’

  ‘So suspicious.’ Disappointment rang out in his words. ‘You were the toughest child.’ He started pacing back and forth, remiss that Argus’s years away had only hardened him even more. ‘I want you to remember and go to the land of Ori. Go to the Southern Wasteland, wrestle with the Thar Mountain Goat men, embrace your Golgothic roots and take possession of your birth right, tame the Ori and lead them.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘They will be needed to protect the children.’

  ‘From what? With those costumes and bracelets they won’t need protection.’

  Angered, the Harbinger bit his lip and held back for a few seconds and then spoke.

  ‘All power corrupts. Only innocence stops corruption. The children are innocent. They have spent their life without rules and have developed their own boundaries. They set their own questions and work out answers for themselves.’

  ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

  ‘These children have inside them the seeds of the next age. But first they must learn to wield great power and stay innocent. If they do not, the next age will be given to Kali - darkness.’

  Argus shook his fist.

  ‘This is not convincing me.’

  ‘You must see it, feel it. Even those lost to the deception of this age sense an end is near. Uneasiness sits amongst them. Despite being warned repeatedly they carry on as if life will carry on forever. Nothing lasts forever. Nothing.’

  The Harbinger could tell Argus did not know what he talked of.

  ‘Whatever then,’ said Argus. ‘And what’s your job?’

  ‘My job is to protect the children from themselves. Keep them playing, while you make sure no harm comes to them. Together we shall make sure they are kept hidden, until it is time...’

  ‘Time for what...oh God, no wait...let me guess...time for the great revealing where they will save the world.’

  ‘The world is already ending. It is not to be saved. They are the last children - Omega Children. After them there will be no more.’ He added with a heavy heart, ‘They were not supposed to be here until they were at least 18. Glad we had you ready...shouldn’t have been attacked...bit of a worry.’

  ‘And yet you want me to tame the very people who attacked them. Better still why not find out whoever is behind the attack. The guy I shot at, at the kids’ home wanted an object of great value, something of the parents’.’

  The colour drained from the Harbinger’s face and he stared at Argus dumbstruck. ‘It was the Ori that attacked their parent’s? Are you sure?’

  Argus shrugged his shoulders. ‘No. It’s what Antavahni said. Besides Ari and Quixote saw them and said they were.’

  The Harbinger stumbled backwards and held on to the wall to steady himself.

  ‘Only one other knew of the bracelets, Daquan. But he is a madman, a recluse - holed up in his crumbling mansion, passing into decay - crept from the Southern Wasteland where he was banished too. No, there is something else afoot. Someone else has pieced the puzzle together. Someone tracked their parents down thinking they had the bracelets, little knowing they were hidden here.’

  ‘I still want to leave. That’s final.’

  ‘So be it. Leave then,’ the Harbinger said with little fight left. ‘Go through Herod’s Pass to the south. You can’t miss it. It’s the only natural valley that leads south. Keep traveling until the roads run out and then follow the ridges until you come to the second alluvial valley. When you reach the ravine turn west and follow the river to the sea. The river creates a current strong enough to get through the Sedgemere.’

  The Harbinger pushed himself off the mirror, feeling all his effort had been for nothing.

  ‘Sedgemere?’

  ‘The wall, ah...the invisible barrier...you must have passed through it. It stops outsiders getting in or seeing in. Now please just go.’

  Argus squinted at the Harbinger. Maybe he was right, hell the world might be ending - good riddance. And so what if the cousins had powers? If they were to stay innocent then they would not use those powers and besides, he had seen plenty of innocent people devastated by the strong and corrupt. His only reason for staying would be to help, something he had never done. So why start now?

  ‘Are you setting me up?’

  ‘JUST GO,’ the Harbinger said.

  ***

  As the gunshot rang out, all the children on the courtyard froze and appeared to hold their breath, and then as if a blanket of panic fell on them, became alive and animated. Ari knew he should go back and see why Quixote had fired a shot but the mass of thronging children mesmerized him. He had never seen so many people gathered together, let alone the acts of cruelty. Another thought crossed his mind. What if it was not Quixote but someone shooting at them? He inched his way back down the embankment and Melaleuca landed by him.

  Ari raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Quixote?’

  Unimpressed, Melaleuca nodded.

  ‘We spooked him and he fired at us.’

  Quixote dashed along the path through the long grass toward them, and a bedraggled Lexington followed after him. They joined the others, and despite Quixote jiggling around Melaleuca focused on Ari. From the expression on his face she could see he had found something.

  ‘What is it?’

  Ari motioned for them to lie down and together they crawled up through the long grass. The children on the concrete courtyard talked amongst themselves and stared toward where the cousins lay.

  ‘Why are they looking this way?’ Melaleuca asked.

  ‘They heard the gunshot,’ Ari said.

  Lexington stroked her chin.

  ‘Do you think they never heard a gun before?’

  ‘Could be many things,’ Melaleuca said. ‘Maybe this is the Borstal. It looks hideous enough.’

  ‘One of those kids is the one Quixote and I saw,’ Ari said. ‘He had thistles rammed onto his body and was bleeding.’

  Lexington winched.

  ‘Ow. How can you see that from here?’

  ‘Costume increased my sight.’

  Lexington threw an “I-told-you-so” look at Melaleuca.

  �
�Just note it down in your head,’ Melaleuca said and felt annoyed with her though did not know why.

  The massed children parted and four grown men dressed in leather tunics and puffy pants emerged carrying thick sticks and whips. Quixote leapt up and started snarling.

  ‘These here are nothing but dirty rotten scum and I’s intend to whop them a good.’

  He charged toward them, screaming and crying out obscenities. The children screamed and ran in all directions and the four grown men stood their ground for a brief second and then started stepping backwards. They looked at each other, unsure what to do.

  Lexington studied the scene and announced, ‘The advantage is ours. Never before hath these crude sentinels been loutishly accosted as such,’ and then mindful that her language sounded cryptic followed it with, ‘What the blighty, they are scared, let’s go.’

  She jumped out of the bushes and started running after Quixote.

  ‘What’s got into her?’ Ari said.

  ‘The bracelets and the costume,’ Melaleuca said, unimpressed no one had waited for her to make a decision. ‘Come on. We had better stick with them. At least to protect whoever they are from Quixote.’

  Ari and Melaleuca launched themselves after them, joining Quixote and Lexington in their reckless charge towards the screaming children. Quixote fired round after round and shrieked obscenities into the air. Ari ran around making his ear shattering whooping noises, and Melaleuca somersaulted between the children as they scattered.

  Lexington grabbed one of the children, a small fleeing girl, and felt her tiny body go limp as she fainted. Lexington lay her on the ground and felt guilty for scaring her into passing out. Grey hair hung limp around the girl’s dirty face though a gentleness and fairness rested about her. Scars marked her face, and her arms hung out of a crumpled threadbare sack that barely covered her body. Cuts, bruises, welts and small bleeding pricks covered her. No more than eight years old, she opened her eyes and said in a whimpering tone, ‘Please don’t kidnap me. I have no mother or father, please don’t take me away.’

  ‘Kidnap?’

  Lexington reached for the girl to comfort her but the girl shook with fear and screamed so loud that Lexington flinched. The girl launched herself to her feet and sprinted off.

  Melaleuca somersaulted several times, landed and surveyed the bedlam raging around her. Quixote laughed derisively as he pumped hot lead over the heads of the frightened throng, and Ari chased the men and the older boys, yet Lexington had a slight shocked look on her face. She cart wheeled over to her.