“I don’t know!” Fiona’s voice took an irritated, defensive edge. “It’s not like they waved it around and bragged about it. Maybe a few hundred suns for the bigger fights. Just a reminder: these Underground fights are illegal, Jackson. Even if some trainers care about their Djinn, the actual fighting — and betting — could get you into real trouble.”
But Jackson wasn’t listening to that last part. He stopped after he heard, “a few hundred suns.” His heart beat faster and the wheel in his mind whirred out of control. A few hundred suns could cover their monthly mortgage and loans with money to spare to help them climb out of debt. That kind of money could make all the difference in his and his grandmother’s life.
“Look, it was good seeing you guys, but I’ve got to run,” Fiona said, whistling for Rebel, who spread his jeweled wings and fluttered across the barnyard to his tamer. “Dad wanted me to help him with the Rambuck mating this afternoon. Those things can get violent if no one’s there to ref, if you know what I mean.”
“It was good to see you too, Fiona,” Kay said.
Jackson nodded in agreement and then overcame his jealousy to add, “Nice Djinn.”
As soon as Fiona was out of sight, Kay punched Jackson in the arm.
“Ow! What the hell?”
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said.
Jackson feigned a sudden interest in the clouds passing overhead. “What are you talking about?”
Kay stepped in front of him and put her hands on her hips, forcing Jackson to look at her. “You’re thinking you can enter the Underground and make some more money!”
Scoffing, Jackson walked past her. “That’s crazy. I’m not stupid.”
“Like that’s ever stopped you before.”
“I don’t have a Djinn!”
“Yeah, but I know you.”
Jackson put his hand to his chest in mock offense. “Do you really think I would ask you to make your Djinn fight in the Underground?”
“Don’t even,” Kay said. “I know you’re pretending to kid, but I know deep down you’re not kidding! No way is Sunshine competing in one of those things! I don’t care how much money they’re paying.”
Jackson could understand her reticence. Kay’s Djinn, Sunshine, a Fenkit, was a pet, not a fighter. Kay had no interest in ever becoming a tamer and, as such, Sunshine was a low-level Djinn, and only knew beginning moves and skills. Even so, the fact that both Fiona and Kay had Djinn while he did not was hard for him to swallow, especially considering Fiona was about to live out his dream while he was stuck shoveling shit for her family.
Trying to hide his disappointment Jackson played it off. “I wasn’t going to suggest that! I’m just saying it’s not a bad way to earn a little extra cash on the side.”
Kay’s features softened. “Look, I know things are tough right now,” she said. “I wish I could help you guys out… maybe you could ask Mr. Sato for more hours?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Jackson said, more than a little disheartened.
For a moment, it’d seemed like a great idea, but as he and Kay rode their bikes home and eventually parted to go down their separate streets, he couldn’t help but feel all of his problems would be solved if he only had a Djinn. The black car sitting in the driveway when he got home only served to bring down his mood even more.
CHAPTER FIVE
Without bothering to come to a complete stop, Jackson hopped off his bike and let it crash onto their small yard. Jumping up the steps on the front porch in one single hop, he threw open the screen door. His grandma was sitting at the kitchen table, her head in her hands. When she heard Jackson enter, she looked up, her eyebrows creased and her lips tight. Across the table, a man in an expensive grey suit had his hands folded over a tablet.
“Come in, Jackson,” Jane said in a small voice, nodding to a spot at the table. “I was just speaking to Mr. Meyers.”
Jackson scowled as the man in the suit offered him a broad, sickening smile. “Hey there, kiddo. I was just chatting with your grandma about some things.”
Kiddo? How old does he think I am? Jackson thought.
Still frowning, Jackson sat in the chair with the man on his left and his grandma on his right. It wasn’t the most comfortable he’d been in recent memory. Meyers wrinkled his nose at the smell of sweat and Djinn manure wafting from Jackson’s stained, damp cutoff t-shirt, but covered his reaction moments later with another large, toothy grin.
“What sort of things?” Jackson asked. “Are you from the bank?”
Before Mr. Meyers could answer, Jane stood and put a hand on her grandson’s shoulder. “Jackson, can I talk to you in the other room for a second?”
His stomach clenched, Jackson stood and followed his grandma into the living room. Once they were out of sight of Mr. Meyers, she turned and looked at him. Jackson could see the tears in the corner of his grandma’s eyes.
“We’re losing the house, Jackson,” she said, her voice soft and shaky.
The words hit Jackson like a charge from a Sudang. He felt rooted to the floor, unable to breathe or think beyond the dull pain constricting his chest.
“Losing the house?” he finally managed in a hoarse voice. He’d known things were tight but his grandma always made the impression they were making ends meet. “How…?”
“I’m sorry, dear,” Jane said, a quiver rising in her voice. She gently squeezed Jackson’s arm just above the elbow. “We just weren’t making enough. We’ve done all we can but we’ve lost the battle. We’ve got four months before the bank forecloses on the house.”
Jackson tried to process what he was hearing. It had to be a dream. It must be. For the past few months, he’d visited a scenario just like this over and over in his sleep. That’s what it was, just another nightmare.
“It really won’t be that bad,” Jane continued, clearly reading Jackson’s worried expression. “We’ll be able to get a smaller apartment that we can afford and we'll get a fresh start — we can finally have a chance to get our heads above water for good. And you’ll still be able to go to advanced schooling, I promise.”
“No.”
Jackson was surprised to hear his own voice. He knew now this wasn’t a dream. “No, Grandma, listen! We can use the money I’ve been saving to get ahead — we don’t have to lose the house. We can’t!”
“Jackson…”
“Just trust me!” Jackson insisted. We can do this! Please — I can keep working at the breeders. I don’t need to go to school. Please.”
“Jackson, it’s just not worth it, honey,” his grandma said. “This house means as much to me as it does to you but I won’t let your future be ruined over it.”
Driven by desperation, Jackson heard the seeds of his plan tumble from his mouth almost before he knew what he was saying.
“There’s another way! I can use the funds to put a deposit down on a Djinn from Sato — I know if I sign a contract or a loan or something they’ll let me work the rest of it off in payments. And I can even buy a ring if I dip into my savings. I’ll enter some fights — I can make the money, I know I can! We don’t have to do this!”
Jane’s expression hardened and she shook her head. “Jackson, no. How many times do I have to tell you?”
“Why won’t you listen to me for once?”
“No, Jackson, why don’t you listen to me? I’m the adult here,” Jane said, her voice now a harsh whisper. “If you won’t listen to me, then just think about the numbers. There was a program on the net just the other day talking about the failure rate among tamers even after they reach the Bronze League. And getting in the league isn’t exactly easy to begin with. In order to be accepted, you need to be selected by your town, and they only select one each year. And if you do happen to be selected, you are entered into a tournament among all the others around the region, and only a top number actually move on to the league proper. And if you make it that far, you can live in comfort knowing that more than half of the people go broke or fall out within
the first season!”
“Then let me try a season.”
“Listen to logic! It’s not as easy as just signing on for a season. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
“So what?” Jackson said. “Mom always told me you never do anything if you don't take a chance! What do we have to lose at this point? The house?” He let out a cold, laugh. “Mom would want me to do this, and you know it.”
“Your mom is gone,” Jane said loudly, no longer trying to keep Mr. Meyers from hearing. “She’s gone and nothing will bring her back! Not being a Djinn tamer, not keeping this house — nothing. If there was some magic button I could push to bring her back, I would, Jackson, but we can’t!”
“I know!” Jackson shouted. “I’m not some dumb kid. I know she’s gone, but I don’t need you to throw that fact around every day as if it’ll somehow make me see something I don’t already! Yeah, I get it. She’s dead, okay? Are you happy?”
Jackson’s voice caught. He forced the words out as the tears welled in his eyes, but he didn’t blink. He knew if he did they would run down his face, and he didn’t want to give his grandma the satisfaction of seeing him cry.
“I don’t need you constantly reminding me that I could be doing what I love right now if she were here,” he said softly.
Before either of them could say anything else, Mr. Meyers poked his head in the room. “Ah, I’m sorry to interrupt but I’m done assessing the kitchen. Mind if I come in here and start?”
It took all of Jackson’s willpower not to throw himself at the smug assessor and punch his face in. Unable to stand the sight of the house, Mr. Meyers, or his grandma, Jackson shouldered past the assessor.
“Jackson Hunt, how dare you speak to me that way!”
Striding through the kitchen, Jackson grabbed hold of the screen door and slammed it shut behind him but the feeble knock of the wood against the doorframe did nothing to quench his rage. Rather than just walk away, he turned around, grabbed the handle again, and slammed it over and over until it buckled against the blows. With a shout, he punched a hole through the net — or at least that was what he intended to do. Instead, the netting held together, and the frame of the screen bent. The door popped off its track, falling backward toward Jackson. Jackson stumbled to get out its way, tripping over his feet in the process, but ultimately catching himself. The screen collapsed into the yard with an underwhelming rattle.
“Come tell me how much this is worth, asshole!” Jackson shouted into the living room.
CHAPTER SIX
After wandering around the outskirts of town and ignoring his grandma’s calls on his watch, Jackson finally returned to the house just after dark. He muttered a stiff apology to Jane and then went to his room without anything to eat. Content with the quiet, if not tense, atmosphere, Jane let him go. Jackson threw himself onto his bed and lost himself scrolling through the pages of his Djinncyclopedia projected from his holo-watch.
When the anger finally burned low, he realized he had no other choice now. If he wanted to pursue his dream of becoming a tamer, he had to leave. Sure, it wouldn’t be easy. For starters, he had to buy a Djinn and a ring on a loan, but Jackson would work hard, dedicate himself to training, and if everything worked out just right, he knew he could make enough money fighting in local bouts. If he worked quickly enough, he could even stall the bank closing on the house. But the only way that would be possible was to leave his grandmother’s tyranny.
Jackson shoved his last clean T-shirt, a few pairs of socks, underwear, and a pair of jeans into his backpack. Double-checking the room once more for anything else he’d need, he shouldered the bag and crossed the room, careful not to step on any creaky floorboards. Closing his bedroom door behind him, a pang of guilt stabbed at Jackson. Once again, his mother’s words played through his head: take care of Grandma while I’m gone…take care of Grandma while I’m gone. Pushing the thoughts from his mind, he reasoned he was doing the only thing he could to keep that promise.
He wrote a note — Jane still liked to keep old-fashioned pen and paper around to send novelty letters to her friends. In it, he told his grandma that he’d be back. That he was sorry she didn’t understand but that he promised he would find the money. That was it. No details about where he was going, nothing. As soon as Jane found out he was missing, Jackson knew she’d call the cops. It wouldn’t be long before they were looking for him — jumping town on the light rail was the only way he could get far enough away fast enough. Luckily he had a little bit of money in his account from Sato Breeders…oh yeah. By leaving he was pretty much quitting, too. He’d have to remember to call them at some point before his next shift.
But that was all stuff to figure out down the road. Right now, Jackson just wanted to get away — to give himself a chance to succeed without being held back. He padded down the stairs into the kitchen. He was almost out the door when he realized he’d didn’t even know where his next meal was coming from. Frustrated at this obvious oversight, he carefully set his backpack down on the kitchen chair and began plundering the fridge and cupboards.
As soon as he opened the smart fridge he realized his mistake.
“You are low on milk — shall I reorder?” A pleasant woman’s voice came from the fridge, sending Jackson’s heart pounding.
“Command not heard. You are low on milk — shall I —”
“No!” Jackson hissed as the fridge began her question again, echoing off the linoleum floor and threatening to awaken his grandmother. “No, shut up!”
The voice mercifully faded, allowing Jackson to grab a few cheese sticks and apples out of the fridge. He paused, listening with bated breath for the sound of his grandmother stirring upstairs. After several long moments, he let out a quiet sigh and stuffed the items into his bag. Before he closed the fridge, he looked at the “low milk” prompt on the door and placed a quick order for half a gallon. Grandma liked putting it in her coffee in the mornings.
Next, he went to the cupboards and plundered a bag of trail mix and Bovan jerky. Thankfully, nobody had invented smart cupboards yet, he thought.
With provisions in his bag, Jackson threw it over his shoulder and made his way to the front door. When his hand touched the knob, he froze. The silent house seemed to bear down around him and all he could hear was the pounding of his heart. Jackson reached for the door handle one more time, his teeth gritted, but when his hand landed, he found himself unable to push his hand down and commit.
He glanced over his shoulder, looking down the hallway at the closed door of his mother’s office. This was it. He didn’t know when he’d be back again. Almost automatically, the bag slid from Jackson’s shoulder and landed softly on the floor. He wasn’t going anywhere without saying goodbye to Mom.
Placing one hand on the doorframe to keep it from squeaking, Jackson unlocked the room and slipped inside. He looked around the office and felt its familiar embrace…until the thought of the assessor slapping a price tag on all of his mother’s things struck him. As another wave of anger washed over him, Jackson walked around and lowered himself into the leather chair behind the desk. The supple upholstery made no sound as he sank into the seat. He took in the familiar surroundings, committing it to memory — not that he’d ever really forget any of it.
His eyes fell on the crooked picture on the wall behind her desk and a pang of remorse struck him. Who would be here to set it straight when he was gone? Jackson rose from the office chair and straightened the frame, as he’d done many times before, but unlike so many times before it fell to the ground with a loud thump.
Jackson bit back a curse and winced. After a few moments of silence, he chastised himself mentally for being so clumsy and he reached down to pick up the edge of the frame. Jane slept light, and the last thing he needed to do was get caught because of something stupid.
Standing up to place the picture back on its hanger, Jackson’s breath caught in his throat. On the wall behind the space where the picture had hung was a black screen
about twice as tall as his hand and a little less wide.
“What in the…?”
Jackson couldn’t ever remember seeing the screen before, not when his mom had occupied the office or anytime after. He’d straightened the picture hundreds of times and never noticed it in the years since his mom’s disappearance, either. Resisting the urge to put the picture on its hook and get out of the house before he screwed himself over, Jackson reached up and tapped the black screen with a finger.
He almost fell back in surprise when the screen flashed and a command prompt and digital keyboard, appeared.
PASSWORD:_______________
None of this made any sense. His mother had a handful of tablets she’d done all of her research on. She’d taken everything with her — with holo-projection technology you could use a tablet smaller than your hand to project a display in mid-air the size of a monitor. With a traveling computer, it made no sense to have something embedded in the wall. At first, Jackson thought it might be digital photo display. He quickly dismissed the idea. Why would a photo-video display need a password?
Without thinking, he typed in a wild stab at the password. The screen flashed.
PASSWORD INCORRECT
Jackson tried several more with no luck, and his desire to get out quietly was overtaken by his curiosity. After the last one (J8cks0n — one his mom had written down in the keeper in her desk drawer) failed as well, a new command promptly appeared on the screen:
ACCESS DENIED>
PASSWORD FAILED. INSECURE LOGIN SECURITY ENABLED. PASSCODE LOCKED PLEASE USE HAND-SCAN FOR ACCESS.
The digital keyboard bleeped away, leaving a grid in its place with horizontal and vertical lines sliding back and forth across the surface.
“Great — fine, Mom, I don’t want to know what you’re hiding anyway,” Jackson muttered to himself. He was about to leave the room when he paused and looked back at the scanner again. The thought of “what if?” crossed his mind. Knowing it would drive him crazy if he didn’t at least give it a try, Jackson returned to the screen.
Djinn Tamer: Starter: A Monster Battling GameLit Adventure (Djinn Tamer - Bronze League Book 1) Page 4