by E G McNally
“Thank you Esa,” the professor remarked, as he quickly shuffled through a couple of the top papers reading the headlines.
Swine Flu Inoculations or Defensive Concoctions: Is the military really making a big fuss over a simple flu shot or is it something more.
Smart Kids Smartly Gone: 3 more top elementary students gone missing in Alabama, totaling 79 students across the nation. Is there a connection between the disappearances?
Terrorists Drop Bomb outside White House: Is Al Qaeda striking back at the U.S. for infiltrating their bases, or is this a new terrorist group, with a bigger purpose?
Where Are They? 5 more students randomly swiped during school hours. Is this the making of a large underground sex trade brewing in the United States?
Teens out of Control: Several students rallied the day after a bad game, and set fire to a fellow student’s home. This terrible prank went seriously wrong when people were trapped inside.
“These headlines really make it look like the world is in some serious trouble right now.” He commented.
“Yeah, pretty scary huh, especially since I think the Flu Inoculation the headlines are referring to, is actually the protein strain serum that Major Bradshaw is trying to push onto the armed forces. I bet he and the president are trying to get it approved and then once everyone has experienced its effects the military will be forced to hush it up and strictly control the media to prevent a nationwide panic. It’s a perfect plan, because the Major is the only one who knows how to train and control them. That’s probably why he’s jacking all of those smart children from school. He’ll use their psychic abilities to control them. I think he is behind the attacks in Iraq and on the White House as well.” She explained.
“Yeah, that’s what Will was thinking too. I guess we are running out of time and we should probably get started.” He waved his hand over the stack of newspapers. “And as much as I don’t believe in fighting, we should probably consider making an attack on Major Bradshaw, before he does one on us.” He added.
The professor sprung up, out of his seat and motioned for everyone to follow. He looked around the gym and noticed that no one else had shown up just the two brothers and Esa. “Where is everyone else?” He asked?
“You’ve been gone for a while, and Connor decided he was in charge. He took Anisa and Bryan with him. We didn’t want to be a part of his plan, not without your permission. They are trying to steal the stone away from Major Bradshaw, and maybe destroy his research. I told them it was going to be way too dangerous. And then Will, Shyla, and Kam left early this morning. I don’t know where they are going.” Ranulf, the older of the two brothers replied.
“They’re okay. I sent them on a trip, but Connor, err. . .” the professor scowled. “If any of them get hurt, I’m going to kill him myself.” He grumbled. Struggling to rid his mind of worry for Connor’s makeshift team, he concentrated on the task at hand.
“Here’s what we need to do. First we need to trigger Taylor’s transformation. It’s not really clear what causes it, from what I understand she’s only changed two or three times. Let’s try the typical physical stress trigger that usually worked for you guys. Once we’ve figured that out, then we can move onto the mental challenges.
“Once we’ve figured all that out then we can set up the ropes and the dark room. Work on her agility and response time. Then once I think she’s ready we can move outdoors to the woods and set up all out tactical attacks on her and see how she both evades and defends herself. Once I feel comfortable with her self control then I think we can start testing for any special abilities she might have, got it?” He explained “But let’s get the transformation down first.”
Ranulf and Esa nodded, heading towards the back of the gym and disappeared into a room for a brief minute and then stepped back into the gym with a large tangled pile of ropes. Ranulf fumbled through the pile until he found an end to a rope and then began weaving it in and out until all of the ropes were untangled.
Esa pulled out many large bars, poles, bases, and connections from the same room, and then began connecting them together in a separate part of the gym. Arnulf stayed with the professor to help set up the spring board floor used in floor routines by gymnasts.
“While you were gone I did some research.” Arnulf managed to say as he pulled out a large plywood sheet loaded with springs.
The professor picked up the opposite end of the spring board, helping Arnulf carry it down the gym, until it was in the correct position for set up.
“Yeah, on what?” he replied.
“I had to dig pretty deep, but I found sort of a myth, about the stone. Several of the ancient tribes in Washington, and Canada, used to tell it as a sort a motivational story to convince children to work hard, and not to cheat. Nowadays very few even know the story, but those who do, would tell you it’s just a stupid folktale. I’d believe them except for the fact that I’m direct proof that the stone is real.” Arnulf explained, as they placed several more boards from the closet, in line with the first one, and then began a second row attached to the first.
“Go on,” the professor urged.
“Well, the guy I talked to said; once there was so much fighting amongst the tribes that the tribal leaders left on a journey together. He said they were gone for a full harvest season. They hiked to the tallest mountain, with offerings from each tribe, and prayed to the Gods for enough power to end all the fighting.
“He said that while they were on the mountain, a stone was crafted from the earth and sky, but the gods could see that the men were not ready for the power, fighting amongst themselves, leaving spilt blood on their precious mountain.
“The Gods were so angry the stone was cast away and broke into two halves, one landing in a river, and the other on the coast. The tribal men were confused, some thought it was a test of will, believing they had to abandon their homes and search for the stone. But others believed it was a lesson, because they weren’t ready for such a gift from the Gods, and immediately returned home, working harder than ever before to keep peace in the tribes.
“The legend says that the man who finds the stone will wield the power to rule the world, but whether he rules with evil or goodness, will be only that man’s choice.” He paused.
“And. . .” the professor waited.
“I think it all kind of makes sense. He said the reason no one believes the legend anymore, is that supposedly the stone was lost thousands of years ago. And when it broke, its power was lost, and as time passed, people stopped looking for it, and it became a myth. Two halves; can you believe that?” He commented, “What if the half the military found in the forties is the first half, and Taylor has the second? Only now you have a quarter of that half and Major Bradshaw has a quarter of it.” He hesitated, before adding, “But that means no matter what happens here, Major Bradshaw can never get Taylor, or our piece of the stone. If he unites that thing, I don’t even want to think what might happen.” Arnulf stressed, as they finished placing all the spring boards in a large square floor formation.
The professor followed Arnulf back to the closet, where they retrieved all the spring boards, and pulled out a long rolled up mat with Velcro attached to one side. He helped tow the long mat down to the far end of the spring board floor and lined up the edge of it with the end of the boards.
“Who else knows about this?” The professor asked, glancing around the room, before unraveling the mat over the boards.
“Just Will for now, and he’s not going to say anything, unless you want him to. It’s not like you can keep a secret from him.” Arnulf added.
“Let’s just keep this between the three of us, for now, as a precaution. I don’t want Major Bradshaw getting news of this, just in case he hasn’t found out. I would imagine that if he had known he would be trying much harder to capture Taylor?” He finished with the subject and browsed over the gym making sure that all the equipment was set up properly and ready for use.
“Right now, err.
. . Can someone go wake Taylor? I think we’re ready to begin training.” The professor shouted.
Chapter XIV: Kokrine Hills
Will left the castle a little disheartened. He was hoping for a chance to speak with Taylor, to let her know that everything was going to be all right. He wanted to apologize for leaving her by herself at the basketball game, and apologize for making her go to the game in the first place.
He spread out his silver wings, like an eagle ready to spring from its nest, and began sprinting through the snow, like a cheetah in the savannah, until he had enough momentum to spring into the air. Once he was in the air and on his way west, toward Alaska, he began worrying about Taylor some more.
Other than the first day, he didn’t really get a chance to know her. Even after he found her, using the stone, and the professor stationed him there to keep an eye on her, he never imagined she would get into so much trouble so quickly. In no way had he ever imagined that his butting into her personal life would have resulted in the trigger of events that led to the complete destruction of her new life.
How could he ever make things right, right for her again? She lost everything that ever meant anything to her. Could things ever be completely better for her again or was she left to wander alone as they all do now? Each one of them was left to their own strange transformations from the stone’s resulting protein strain injection, years ago. None of them had aged a single day since their forcible injections. Granted they all seemed to have unusual gifts that had become more powerful over the last few decades, most of them felt very alone. Aside from the Wolfe brothers, Arnulf and Ranulf, who always had each other, everyone else was orphaned at one point or another. The professor was the only real connection between all of them, well that and the stone, and only because he offered them freedom from the horrifying experiments that Major Bradshaw wanted to continue on them.
Will broke his thoughts, needing to figure out how close he was getting. Kam was following silently on the ground underneath racing at incredible speeds. If it weren’t for the heightened senses of Will’s transformation he may never have noticed the silent, ivory stone, against the white pillows of snow, gliding through the forest bellow, but he knew all too well that Kam couldn’t fly and preferred the silence, that traveling on the ground presented him.
Will pinpointed a large green sign, half dusted with snow covering some of both the English and French words, approximately two miles out, reading Saskatoon in large white letters. The numbers were on the side of the sign, dusted by the snow and therefore unreadable, but he knew that it was probably time to call Shyla. She needed ample time to catch up with them, before they meet in Alaska.
“Shyla, the professor has a mission for us. Can you hear me?” Will sent his thoughts into her mind, hoping that she had not been too far, or too distracted to hear. He waited patiently while her thoughts shifted from a black Sedan on an interstate, to a blank state with blurry fragments of words popping in.
“What,” the words formed clearly into her mind.
“We have a reconnaissance mission. Turns out Major Bradshaw might be responsible for the disappearances of the children. The professor wants us to stake out and gather information. He’d like to know exactly what they are doing with those children and whether they are at the Cyndac Oil Refinery or not.” He sent a long stream of word flow into her mind because he couldn’t actually say anything into other minds, only send images, and words seemed to be easiest for most people to understand.
He watched as her thoughts twisted, with images of missing children, he’d seen on the television and in newspapers, shifting around in her mind. He could tell immediately that she was worried for the children. He could feel the sorrow in her thoughts as she procured each image of a child’s picture she remembered, and then he watched as it screamed out in pain and then faded behind the memories of her own experiences in the labs.
He remembered with her, the dripping wet face, from tears of pain, attached to her thrashing body, strapped to a table, while men sliced and prodded through different sections of her body, and it sent a sudden panic through him. She was right; they could be doing that to the children.
He knew that she was tormented, and now more than ever he was glad that she’d get to help him with this mission. He had sat through many years of watching her nightmares, with her, while she slept. Before he had learned how to control his ability to read and speak to minds, he was an airport for thoughts, they came and went from anyone anywhere, but they were especially difficult to ignore the closer they were to him, and Shyla has been near him since they escaped the laboratories in 1987. He knew only too well, how badly Shyla had been treated. None of them were subjected to the repetitive torturous dissections that Shyla had been submitted to, week after week. It was no wonder that her final transformation became permanent with all the scars and strangely colored patches of abused skin on her body.
Will became furious thinking about Shyla, and Major Bradshaw. How could a father let such terrible things happen to his own child?
The poor girl would never know a normal life. After her mother passed away, the Major blamed it on Shyla, and resented her. He saw Shyla happy with her new husband, and because he was in the military, the Major had him transferred to Iraq, where he was lost during a cargo hijacking. When he started subjecting Shyla, involuntarily to the tests, she begged for mercy, pleading that they not harm her baby. But the Major, filled with contempt, forced the scientists to take the child, and claimed it had been a stillborn, crushing any possibility she would ever have of having a happy life, ever again.
After that they simply kept her isolated from everyone else, and began torturous experiments on her hoping that they might lose her as well. But rather than kill her it only made her what she is today, and full of hate and rage for her own terrible father. She would give her soul to crush the men that killed her baby and tortured her so fervently. With such hatred towards Major Bradshaw and all of his scientists, she was sure to help Will protect the children, if they were there at the prison so crudely disguised as an oil refinery.
The professor wanted this to be a simply reconnaissance mission, but Will had never intended to leave the children there, alone, if they found them, and he knew that he would be able to count on Shyla to rescue them.
He could feel the anger welling in Shyla as the tortured memories of her past swirled around into a raging red vortex of thoughts. He decided now would be a good time to interrupt her thoughts, if anything he might be able to distract her just enough to help calm her down, put her in a tranquil peace of mind, only because he could feel how much it tortured her to be reminded.
“Can you meet us in the Kokrine hills just northeast of the Hughes? We’ll make camp there, and wait until you’ve joined us to continue forming plans.” He directed the stream of words into her mind.
“Sure thing, maybe two hours,” her thoughts responded quickly.
He hesitantly pulled his mind away from her thoughts making sure that she was no longer suffering the misery of her previous memories. Once he was freed from her mind he realized that he hadn’t spoken to Kam, other than to drag him along, on the mission.
Will knew that if they found the children at the Cyndac Oil Refinery, both he and Shyla would be planning an assault, possibly risking their lives. He knew that Shyla would defend the children with her life, but he could not say the same for Kam. Kam rarely spoke to anyone and hardly shared his feelings. Even though Will could read everyone’s mind, he had a difficult time understanding Kam’s thoughts clearly, and as a result rarely listened.
There was something mysterious about Kam, and the silence that he frequently demonstrated among the household confused and frustrated him. However, everyone had their tragic requisitioning and horrific torture anecdotes of the experimentations, and if one among them chooses to maintain silence and keep hidden the incident that brought them thus far, no one pestered for more information.
Kam was the only candidate seized,
in which no one knew the story of how they found him, or where he came from. The professor wasn’t involved in his capture, and unless he was on the appropriations team for the candidates, he wasn’t informed of their mysterious appearances, nor did he ask. It was only until later, when he had escaped with several of the youths that they revealed their own grievous abduction stories to him and others on their own time.
Kam never revealed his story, and his mind was often processed using an ancient language and old thoughts, thoughts that didn’t make sense for a person his age to have. Will had been able to discover that the language was rooted in Latin, and many of the thought pools he watched were of things he couldn’t understand. People on horseback, villages burning, villages without cars and technology, women screaming, holding their babies, wrapped in dirty old rags, and gothic type clothing.
Will couldn’t watch Kam’s thoughts more than he had to; he resented ever having peered into his mind in the first place. Most evenings while everyone drifted away, fitfully into restless sleep, back before Will had total control of his mind reading ability, he sat outside, as he often did, in the courtyard, and peered into the minds of each of them. One by one, he’d try to practice blocking and accepting their thoughts. One particular evening he felt Kam’s mind more strongly than the others, and decided to use his for the practice.
As he opened up his mind, and peered deeply into Kam’s subconscious, he was repulsed by the hazy fading inward vision reeling in his head, like a movie on a wide leather screen. A young man, tall, handsome, and stunning, but icy and pallid in complexion, with short earth brown hair and crystal blue eyes, dreamily drifted over the snow, much the same as he was doing now, following Will, only he wasn’t following anyone, but appeared to be leading a small band of mercenaries. The three men and two women, following behind him, were dressed in the same elegant gold and black embroidered gothic coats and gowns that lightly concealed the same pasty white complexion that the first young man had, only their eyes were glowing red, and they seemed all too impatient to arrive at their destination.
