Chronicles of Stephen BoxSet

by Kenyon T Henry

  Realizing the parents had seen him cover the distance in only a second, Stephen hastened to Max. “Let’s go!”

  Max turned with him, and they walked toward the stairs.

  “Why’d you do that?” Max demanded. “We haven’t found them.”

  “If we forget to love and have compassion for others, what’s the point in all this? Besides, I couldn’t let the boy die.”

  “Stephen,” a voice called out from behind him.

  He stopped and turned, watching as the boy’s father approached him.

  “You risked people seeing you, the real you, the Mighty you. Your speed, your need to protect, even your ability to foresee the ball going over the edge . . . You do belong to all three classes.”

  “You’re Mighty?” Stephen asked. “This was a test?”

  “Outcast, actually. And I’m sorry, but we had to be sure. I’m Michael. My wife,” Michael made quotations with his fingers, “is actually a friend, Nadia. This young man isn’t quite as young as he looks.”

  The boy looked around, making sure no one watched, then shot up to normal height. He was caramel-skinned with crew-cut black hair, a mustache, and soul patch. “I’m Miguel. Sorry about all that.”

  Stephen shook their hands. “It’s nice to meet you all.” He pointed to Miguel, “Warrior,” then to Michael, “Prophet,” and to Nadia, “Priest.”

  They each smiled. “Very good,” Nadia said. “How did you know?”

  “Miguel was easy enough to figure out. His shape-shifting would be a handy gift to a warrior. Michael must have controlled the wind. The breeze came from nowhere. I haven’t felt one all day. The fact that I didn’t already know you all were here leaves you being a priest. And pretty powerful too. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have taken me this long to feel your emotions.”

  Michael shook his head. “You can break through her shield?”

  “I can. The stronger the priest, the more effort it takes, but I’ve been getting plenty of practice lately.” Stephen paused and looked out toward the ocean. There were no clouds, only water, boats, and blue sky.

  “I know you’re apprehensive. Honestly, you three, your triune would help the Mighty a tremendous amount in the days ahead. There’s a battle coming. You know what I’m talking about?”

  Michael nodded. “We do. But you don’t know what you’re asking.”

  Stephen didn’t acknowledge the last part of Michael’s comment, but looked at the people inside the courtyard of the fort. “These people are what we’re fighting for, and billions more. You know what happens if we lose, if I lose—the Tribulation. In the end, two thirds of them will be dead. How many souls will perish?”

  “Enclave forgot us a long time ago,” Nadia replied. “Our triune was cast out for something as simple as what you just did. Enclave would have us let nature take its course.”

  “Stephen is not Enclave,” Max replied. “You know me. I wouldn’t be here supporting anyone else.”

  Stephen interjected. “Listen, I get it. It’s a lot to ask. You feel betrayed by Enclave. But you are Mighty. If you won’t fight, at least help us find the David.”

  Miguel stepped forward. “Benjamin Buchanan saved my life. And he’s different than the council. Under him, Outcasts weren’t treated as second-rate citizens. What’s happened to us—the way we’re treated—that’s all started in the past couple years. There’s always been some Mighty who didn’t like those outside of Enclave. They feel superior or something. Pastor B., he wasn’t like that though. Not ever. I’ll help you find him.” He looked at the other two members of his triune. Both nodded in agreement.

  “I’ve got some contacts I can reach out to who might know a thing or two. We’ll be in touch as soon as we know something, one way or the other,” Michael said.

  “Thank you,” Stephen replied. “Now, I need to get back to St. Louis and see how things are going elsewhere. You all were our last stop for now.”

  Michael started to speak, then hesitated. “Stephen, I’ve seen visions of Buchanan. They’re blurred, smudges of color, and I can’t make anything out, but I can hear him calling out for you—a warning for you not to find him.”

  “Why wouldn’t he want me to find him?”

  Michael shrugged. “I don’t know, but hoped you would. Either way, I thought you’d want to be aware.”

  “You were right. Thank you.” Stephen let his thoughts drift to Patty, and the medallion did the rest. He looked over the edge of the fort to see the French woman standing aside as an officer cuffed the man. Other officers surrounded a vehicle with a dog barking loudly. He nodded in the direction for Max to see, just before the purple mist engulfed them and spirited them away, leaving his three new friends to stare in wonder.

  ****

  Stephen looked around as the purple mist vanished. Where were they? The walls were concrete. It looked like a control room, similar to the one he had seen at Enclave during training. The hum of computers and fans kept the room from being silent. Various monitors had news feeds from across the world. Some, however, sat blank as cords dangled from them.

  “Where are we?” Max asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Stephen replied.

  “Hey,” Jax shouted as he popped out from behind a large desk unit. “Stephen’s here.”

  “Jax?” Stephen looked around again. “Is this what Patty’s been working on?”

  “It is.” Patty’s voice came from behind him.

  He turned to see his new bride, somewhat disheveled, standing in a doorway. Even when her fiery hair was a mess, she was gorgeous.

  She walked to him and kissed him on the cheek before he wiped a smudge of dirt from her nose. “I’m glad you could finally join all of us,” she said.

  “All of us?” he asked.

  “Edge, Vincent, Shannon, Bernard, and Rex are working to put other rooms together.”

  “Other rooms?” Stephen didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t used to being surprised.

  “We call it Outpost. Fortress of Solitude was already taken,” Patty said with a smile and a wink.

  Stephen chuckled. “It doesn’t sound very lonely here anyway.”

  “What is all this?” Max asked, pointing at the computers.

  “It’s modeled after Enclave’s command center. Pastor Buchanan showed me how it all happens, how Enclave gathers information and analyzes it. He said Stephen would need it.”

  Patty walked over to a keyboard and punched something in. The large screen changed to a news report. “Our systems search news, Internet feeds, radio—anything that provides information—for noteworthy events. It even pulls from social media. We’ve already noticed a pattern. There have been several terror attacks this year. More than that, the weather seems to be going haywire. It’s never been quite like this. Plus, there’s this . . .”

  Patty clicked on the keys. A YouTube video played on the screen, someone talking about the coming solar eclipse and the signs in the stars that would follow. “People believe this is all signaling the end, that Armageddon—the Apocalypse—is near.”

  “They may be right,” Max replied.

  “Why?” Stephen asked. “I mean, did Pastor Buchanan say why I would need this place?”

  Patty drew up a corner of her lips and started chewing on them as she shook her head.

  “Well, since we have it, we might as well use it. Edge is probably most familiar with the equipment, right?”

  “Actually, he and Shannon seem to understand it quite well,” Patty replied.

  “I think we’ll start getting leads from some Outcast concerning Buchanan’s possible locations soon. Get with Shannon and Edge and figure out how to use the information to find him. He’s our first priority right now.” Stephen looked around. “Where are we?”

  Patty grinned. “Underneath the warehouse.”

  Stephen laughed at the thought that he first fought Fallen in the building above them. “Fitting.”

  Stephen walked over to Jax. “Why don’t you show me around.”


  “No problem,” Jax replied with his usual youthful enthusiasm. “Follow me.”

  The two left through the door Patty had occupied only moments before, entering a hallway that was separated from a meeting room by a glass wall. Stephen liked the openness of it all. There was a modest recreation room that opened to a kitchen at the far end, divided by a bar with stools. There was a lounge, a couple adequate training rooms, and even half a dozen compact sleeping quarters, which is where they found the others working.

  Each person worked on a task, assembling a desk or bed, putting on a doorknob, or moving furniture. Rex was the first to notice Stephen standing in the doorway. “I’m guessing Stephen knows about this place,” he said, grinning.

  “Why do you say that?” Shannon asked.

  “Because I’m standing in the doorway,” Stephen said to everyone’s surprise, everyone except Rex. Heads turned toward him. He figured the team hadn’t expected him just yet, but he sensed a myriad of emotions from the five—excitement, anxiety, curiosity, and a need to remain calm. “What do I not know?” he asked, probing their minds.

  “Uh-oh. Excuse me,” Edge said as he squeezed through the doorway past Stephen. “Patty!” he called out.

  ****

  Alistair paced in closed chambers with the council members standing around the high table. The glass top also served as a monitor and had pictures and names of various Mighty listed. Lights had been dimmed to better see the display. The names listed were all Mighty who had gone missing over the past year. It was normal for Mighty to come and go. That had always been their way. This was more than that. People went missing on missions, failed to report when called, vanished from their normal, civilian lives, and sometimes worse. There were increasing reports of missing Mighty being spotted with known Fallen. Their numbers were dwindling each day.

  “What about awakenings?” Alistair asked. “Has anyone checked the Scroll of Awakening to see if there are any new names of young Mighty coming into their power?”

  “None,” Sam replied. “There are no new names.”

  Alistair stopped, facing away from the group. What was he missing? There must be more he could do as the David. He wanted to ask questions. But what questions hadn’t he already asked? They had all the teams they could spare scouring all over the world, searching for anything that would give them hope for the battle they all knew was coming. His head hurt. Stress. Or was it something else? He reached up to his face, touching the spot where Patty had slapped him. He felt bad for treating her in such a way, for grabbing her. What was I thinking?

  Alistair turned his thoughts back to the present. “Is there any good news?”

  “Benjamin’s name is still at the top of the scroll. He’s alive.”

  “That is good news indeed,” replied Anastasia.

  Council member Xiang spoke up. “Should we reconsider help from the Outcasts?”

  Alistair cut his eyes toward the council members, who now murmured among themselves. Even he had reconsidered it over the past few days. Stephen was someone Alistair knew he could trust. But Enclave knew so little of the Outcasts. They had records of those who were officially cast out. In reality, there could be more or fewer. Those who left Enclave for a civilian life could easily join the ranks of Outcasts, or those who were cast out could have become Fallen.

  “No,” Alistair replied. “We know too little about them and if they can be trusted.”

  “Any word from Stephen?” Sam asked. “Can we expect him back soon?”

  The question made Alistair sick to his stomach. His forehead developed beads of sweat. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Aye. Soon, I imagine.” The thought of seeing Stephen made his knees weak. He remembered seeing what his mukker did to Matthew before accepting Christ and becoming Mighty. He worried that the monster he saw then was still somewhere inside Stephen, clawing to get out.

  ****

  Stephen marched up to the room the communications console had indicated was Alistair’s location. He tried to rationalize Alistair’s actions, but no matter what, it didn’t make sense. Why on earth would Alistair grab Patty? She’s not Mighty. She shouldn’t even have been summoned without him present. She is my wife. Alistair had no right.

  In the distance, at the end of the hallway, he saw two guards on either side of the door. Both held batons. He listened to their thoughts, searching for a way to gain entry without a fuss. He had met them both, Gus and Riley. Nice guys. But they were divided. Gus was among a small group who thought Stephen should lead. Riley was more traditionally minded and was prepared to follow Alistair to the grave.

  Anything he thought of, shy of them willingly stepping aside, ended with the two men fighting each other. That was unacceptable.

  Stephen slowed his approach, not desiring to appear threatening. Both men were highly trained Mighty. “Alistair’s in there?” he asked.

  Gus nodded.

  “Mind if I go in?”

  Gus said nothing.

  “We can’t allow it,” Riley replied.

  “I thought you might feel that way.” Stephen patted both on the shoulders. “You’re just doing your jobs.”

  He took a couple steps back and looked at them both. I’m really sorry about this, guys.

  Their eyes widened upon hearing his thoughts inside their own heads. Before either had a chance to respond, they dropped their weapons on the ground and began feeling around.

  “What did you do?” Riley screamed.

  “I can’t see a thing,” Gus yelled.

  “You’ll both be fine,” Stephen said. “But, I need to get through and don’t want to fight you.”

  Riley wasn’t done, though. He swung and punched. Stephen still had to get by him without hurting him.

  “You’re not getting by without a fight,” the zealous warrior challenged.

  Before Stephen could decide how to handle it, Gus managed to grab hold and knock Riley out cold. “Sometimes,” Gus said, “he just needs to learn when to shut up.”

  “Thank you,” Stephen said. “But that wasn’t necessary.” Stephen stooped down next to Riley and placed his hand on the warrior’s head. The man moaned before raising up against the wall. “This isn’t good time to fight with each other,” he said.

  “Right.” Gus felt around for the wall, and leaned against it, his head and shoulders drooping like a scolded child.

  Stephen gave them both back their sight, then threw the doors open.

  The council members stood around a table, staring at him with wide eyes. No doubt, they had heard the commotion outside. In the darkened far corner of the room, Alistair stood facing the doorway, his eyes peering at Stephen beneath the stringy blond hair that covered much of his face.

  Anastasia approached. “Stephen, what’s wrong?”

  He didn’t register her words. Instead, he was of two minds. Should he talk to Alistair or knock some sense into him?

  “Stephen,” she continued. “This is a closed meeting. If it’s not urgent—”

  “We need to talk, Alistair,” Stephen interrupted.

  Alistair looked like a statue. Stephen sensed the plethora of emotions coursing through him. The strongest emotion was fear, but not of Stephen. Alistair was afraid, instead, because he felt like he was losing more and more control.

  “Alistair?” Sam asked.

  “We’ll take a wee break,” Alistair said to the council. “Stephen, will ye join me in here, please?” He motioned to a door that led to an adjoining room.

  Stephen followed Alistair into the other room and flipped on the lights. Alistair stood with his back to Stephen. “Hey, mukker!” Stephen taunted. “You know why I’m here?”

  “Aye.”

  “Turn around and look at me,” Stephen demanded.

  Alistair turned slowly. As he did, Stephen noticed the discolored skin on the left side of his friend’s face. The more Stephen looked at it, the worse it seemed to be. It wasn’t just a slight bruise, but capillaries had burst. Even Alistair�
�s eye was red, filled with blood.

  “Who? What?” Stephen wasn’t sure what to ask or how to feel. He had been angry with Alistair, but they were still friends.

  “Are you okay?” Stephen managed to ask.

  “I’m guid, mukker.” Alistair pulled his hair back, allowing Stephen a better look. “Your wife did this to me.”

  “Patty?” But Stephen knew there was no way Patty could have done that kind of damage. As he struggled for the answer, it came to him—something he had glossed over in his early classes. “The bonding ceremony.”

  Alistair nodded.

  Stephen chuckled and sat on the edge of the table.

  “I deserved it. I dunno what I was thinking. This David stuff is gettin’ to me. Stephen, there’s stuff getting in me heid. I get jealous of ye, which isnae like me at all.

  “Me dad filled me with this royalty nonsense all me life. I was a spoiled brat. But I got tired of it as I grew up. That’s why I left and came here. But learning that it was all true did something to me. It made me feel like this was my calling.”

  “Maybe it is,” Stephen suggested.

  “Maybe. But people want ye to lead Enclave.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you. I do believe this is what you’re supposed to do now. My hope is that we find Pastor Buchanan and we can both go back to being who we are, not who everyone else wants us to be. I’m not the David. And neither are you—not yet.”

  Alistair grinned. “That sounds guid.” He looked at the ceiling, as though waiting for something to fall. And it did. “As acting David, ye know I have to do what I think is right.”

  “I know.”

  “Sometimes, we may have opposing opinions.”

  “I know that too.”

  “What do we do?”

  “The only thing we can do. We do what we believe is right. The Almighty gives us each our own course. We never walk it alone. But that doesn’t mean you and I will always walk it together. I’m starting to see that everything happens for a reason.”