by Tara Ellis
“Hey, Alex,” he says, very close to my ear. Jerking back in surprise, my immediate reaction is irritation at yet again being caught off guard by him. He’s come up behind my seat and placed one arm on either side of me, palms down on the table so that when I move back, I land solidly into his chest. Instead of giving me space, he chuckles and leans into me. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about my shirt.”
I note the look of shock on Missy’s face, as I try awkwardly to untangle myself from him without making a scene. I turn in my seat so that we’re facing each other with little space between us. This is not an improvement. “Your shirt?” I ask, trying to feign ignorance.
“Yeah. I seem to have left it behind the other night.”
Missy is looking quickly back and forth between us, and I can already hear all of the questions she is sure ask later on. I pray no one else has noticed our exchange yet.
“I put it in the hamper in the dorm bathrooms,” I say through gritted teeth. Why Seth would choose this sudden attempt at humiliation, after a week of silence, is yet another reason why I fail to understand him.
Hovering for just a moment longer, he winks at me before pushing back from the table. In spite of my aggravation, I feel a twinge of longing when the gap widens between us. Was that the whole purpose behind this little display? That thought really ticks me off. I try to think of something witty to say, but nothing will come to me. I stare at his back while he walks away. Fighting the urge to throw something at him instead, I glance around the room to see who’s watching.
Thankfully, other than Missy, it appears that my mom is the only other person paying any attention to us. Our eyes meet and she raises her eyebrows questioningly. Nothing, I mouth silently, but I can tell she isn’t going to let it go at that. Great.
Nate and Kyle are debating something noisily on the other side of the room, in their favorite spot by the snack table. As I turn to avoid the accusing looks of both Mom and Missy, Benuk and Chris enter. They join the other two getting food, while Seth talks with the only soldier here so far.
Missy pivots my seat so that I’m forced to face her, but Jacob saves me before the interrogation can begin.
“Hey, Alex. Baxter got to spend all day with me!” Breathing a sigh of relief, I happily greet my brother and pet Baxter, before putting out my hand for him to lick me, which is his custom.
“I know, Jake! I finally got a day off from the Shiners. I could tell Baxter really missed you, so I’m sure he was glad for the break, too!” Baxter chuffs in response, making it clear that he agrees with me. Jake starts to wander toward the other guys, but I grab his arm to stop him.
“I haven’t really gotten to talk with you much lately, little brother. Why don’t you sit next to me?” Missy huffs in frustration at my avoidance tactics, but there isn’t anything she can do about it.
“Sure!” he agrees as he plops down in the offered chair. “We’ve been getting all sorts of messages lately. Most of it’s encrypted, so I’ve been learning a whole lot about how to decipher stuff. It’s really kinda cool.”
Although I was totally using him to avoid an inquisition, I really am interested in what he has to say. “What kind of messages, Jake? Who are they from?”
“Oh, all sorts, Alex. Mostly from the other bases here in the States, but yesterday I caught this weird one on a random channel, and it ended up being from like, Europe or something. I don’t know what they said. I just wrote it all down and turned it in, but they seemed excited about it later on. Then there’s the stuff on the ham radio. Lots of people are hiding out in places and talking to each other.”
“It’s good to know there are other people out there,” I say, impressed with how well he’s doing. “Don’t you have a birthday next week?” I ask, absently stroking Baxter’s back.
Grinning, Jake gives me one of his ‘duh’ looks. “You know I turn eleven next Friday, Alex. Mom and Zane said they’re gonna make me a cake and everything. I don’t know, though. I don’t feel like doing much. It doesn’t really seem right when so many people out there don’t even have food.” His smile gone, he picks at a piece of tape stuck on the table from who-knows-what.
“Jake,” I say softly, reaching out to lift his face toward me. “I know it must be hard hearing first-hand what everyone else is going through, but we need to make sure to take advantage of the good stuff when we can find it. I know I want to celebrate your birthday because you are very special to me. I’m pretty sure everyone here feels the same way. So don’t think of it so much as for you, but for us to tell you how much we love you.”
Shrugging his shoulders, he finds his smile again, and I make a note to spend some more time with him. I always learn something whenever we talk.
“All right guys!” Senator Zane says loudly from the doorway, causing us all to shift our attention his way. Generals James and Costas flank him, with Dr. Paul and my shrink bringing up the rear. After they are done filing into the room, I’m about to turn back to the table when I become aware of another, undeniable presence approaching. Frank.
Startled, I look accusingly at Zane. He knows I don’t like surprises! “Go over by Chris, Jake,” I order. I must sound serious because he obeys without question. But Baxter stays next to me, and I automatically keep my hand on his back.
Just as Jake finds his way across the room and to an empty seat by Chris, another group arrives, being led by two MP’s. There are a few gasps of surprise, and more than one cursed expletive, when they make their way inside and reveal the Shiner standing behind them, being followed by two more guards. His hands are cuffed, and then chained to shackles on his ankles, but the glow of his eyes is all it takes to elicit fear.
“I would like to introduce Sergeant John Fellows to you,” Zane says. “He was unfortunately exposed early on when the virus first started to spread before we had any sort of antivirus on hand.”
Closing my eyes, I try not to be disappointed. John? I really thought he looked like a Frank.
“John is part of the group that Alex has been working with. I thought it would be easier to show you what has happened, rather than try to explain it.”
“What the hell happened to keeping this all hush-hush?” Seth demands, unhappy to see a Shiner standing among us.
“He was brought up very discreetly,” Zane says patiently. “We’re on the brink of something monumental to not only our fight but the future of what’s left of society. It’s worth it.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, the weight of his words heavy on me. Zane looks at me silently for a moment, and then raises his hand toward ‘John’. Nodding, I stand and face the poor soldier that’s had to be one of my guinea pigs.
“Come on, Frank,” I tell him casually, and motion to the now-empty seat beside me. It’s the last one on this side of the table, so there’s no one else near it.
He immediately obeys me, and I can feel the scrutiny of everyone in the room. I’ve been talking with the Shiners now for a couple of days. John never corrected me on his name. “Thank you, Alex,” he says politely.
Once he sits and placidly lays his cuffed hands on the table, I turn back toward everyone. “Oh come on!” I yell, irritated when I see their faces. They all look like they’ve seen a ghost. “You all knew I was down there working with them. What did you think we were doing, playing patty-cake?”
“I think perhaps it is just different actually seeing … this,” Benuk suggests. There are several murmurs of agreement and I do my best to let it go.
“Frank still has all of the enhancements of the virus,” I start, jumping right into it. “Including intelligence, but he also has the personality of a wet dog.” Baxter whines and I look down at him apologetically before continuing. “What he doesn’t seem to have anymore is his connection to the hive mind.” This brings on a fresh round of exclamations and questions, and I look to Zane to help me out.
“All eleven of the Shiners housed in Level Zero have experienced the same changes,” Zane speaks over the din. W
hen he has everyone’s attention, he explains further. “We have studied this from every angle we could think of and the best explanation we’ve come up with is that it’s a combination of things.
“First, we know the Shiners work together through some sort of hive mind. Jacob’s analogy a while ago of a radio signal may not be that far from the truth. Our Shiners have been isolated for a couple of months now, but it wasn’t until Alex showed up and started blocking, or scrambling their reception, that we saw the results.”
“What if they’re just faking it?” Nate interjects.
“We’ve taken that into consideration,” Dr. Paul tells him. “That’s why he’s restrained. But so far, we haven’t had any indication that this is some sort of trick.”
“So do they go back to ‘normal’ when Alex isn’t near them?” Chris asks. It’s a good question.
“No,” I answer. “Well, at first they did. It wasn’t until after I discovered the enhancements when I’m with Baxter, that I even got that close to them. By the second day, I could tell that they were definitely acting different, but then they resumed their normal routine after I was gone for a while.
“Two days ago, I started going into the room with them and talking to them. You know how the Shiners always act as if they somehow know what their purpose is, and then carry it out so effectively? I think if they’d been released a week ago, they would have all worked together to try and overthrow the base or something, in order to achieve whatever higher purpose they were being called to. But now, they’re lost. They’re still smart, but they have no idea what’s happening, or what happened to them. They’re like a computer without a connection to the internet. That’s how I’ve come to think of how this works. Each Shiner is like a different computer and they are all ‘uplinked’ to some central ‘program’, for lack of a better word. I’m able to break the link if I’m around them long enough, and so far, they haven’t been able to repair it.”
“Oh my God. This is huge,” Jim breathes. He’s sitting across from me, on the other side of Jake. I haven’t seen him for over a week, and I’m surprised to see he’s grown a full beard. It makes him look much more serious.
“You’re right, it is huge,” Zane agrees. “But having Alex isolated down in a controlled environment is a whole lot different than out in a war zone. We don’t know how well this can be applied in that situation or how far her reach will be. But we’re about to find out.”
Taking a deep breath to gather myself again, I have a sense of being watched and look around the room to find its source. I quickly discover that I’m under the silent scrutiny of Seth, his expression a mix of concern and scorn. Instead of retreating from him, I brazenly return the stare, squinting slightly and tilting my head in a questioning gesture. Shaking his head slightly, he’s the first to break contact and refocus his attention on Zane. Is he worried about me or disgusted? It’s hard to tell.
Zane has gone on to describe the current situation with the Mudameere, and the outbreaks of fighting he told me about earlier. The MPs lead Frank away, but not before he tells me goodbye and that he looks forward to talking with me later. I feel bad for him and the others. It’s almost as if they’ve been lobotomized.
General Costas is taping a map to the whiteboard, and it already has a bunch of markings on it, detailing locations of our rebels and where there have been attacks. For now, we are focusing on local battles, until more vehicles and other forms of transportation can be provided. We’ve gone over two months now without any more EMP attacks, and so our leaders are getting bolder about pushing those repairs.
The primary goal of our special ops team will be to insert us into areas of known Mudameere and Shiner sightings. By attacking these groups, not only do we hope to break up their organized strikes, but we also want to take prisoners, because we’re going to be after information. Information on the Mudameere cells to give to other squadrons around the world so we can try to slow down the mining process. But ultimately, we have to find the professor. We know we can’t possibly win the numbers game, but we can outsmart RA. We have to find a cure.
One of the MPs comes back in and quietly reports something to Zane. All I manage to hear over the other chatter is ‘visitor’ and ‘arrived’. Curious, I watch as Zane nods his approval like he’d been expecting the news. What now?
“Can I have your attention, please?” He announces, standing. “I received word yesterday of a possible guest arriving, but I didn’t want to say anything until she was here, with all of the likely delays. Katie,” he continues, turning to my mom and taking one of her hands. But before he can explain any further, there is a commotion at the door and I look up to see someone I never expected: my Grandma Mubarak.
“Mother Mubarak!” As Mom rushes to greet her mother-in-law, I seek out Jacob. He’s already making his way around the table and comes to stand silently next to me. How could she have possibly found us? It had to have been the Khufu Bast.
Neither of us knows her very well, and I have a twinge of guilt as I find myself wishing our Grandma Fisher were here instead. She and Grandpa are in Nebraska, and I love them dearly. Hopefully, we’ll get to see them someday, too.
Grandma escapes Mom’s embrace and I notice a small, wooden box under the crook of her arm, before Jake and I move forward to hug her. She’s smaller than I remember, but that’s probably because it’s been several years and I’m a lot bigger. I figure they must have warned her about how I look because she doesn’t cringe or back away from me like so many people do the first time they see me.
“How in the world did you get here?” Mom is asking, and I’m wondering the same thing. Last I knew, she was still in Egypt.
Instead of answering immediately, she turns away from me and holds out the small, ornate box to Jake. Her jet-black hair is pulled back tightly into a proper bun, contributing to the stern look that her dark, angular features already project.
“After the first outbreak was over, I went through your grandfather’s belongings that he packed for our failed trip to visit you.” Her English is very good because of them having lived in the states for several years, but she still has an accent.
“I’m so sorry about Father Mubarak,” Mom says, referring to his deadly heart attack. But Grandma waves off the condolences.
“It was no one’s fault,” she emphasizes. “However, he was adamant about visiting you, children. Especially you, Jake.” Jake looks up at her in surprise. “He wanted to give this to you,” she continues, putting the box in his hands.
“What is it?” Jake asks, holding it carefully.
“It has some special family belongings in it that you are meant to have.”
Curious now, I watch closely as Jacob sets it down gingerly on the table before flipping the little metal latch and opening the lid. The first item he pulls out is a wooden medallion on an old leather strap. I recognize it immediately as a perfect copy of the one I am currently wearing around my neck. Our family seal.
His eyes lighting up, Jake obviously knows what it is too, and eagerly puts it on. Next, he pulls out some old, folded papers with neat penmanship in Arabic. Confused, he looks up at Grandma Mubarak.
“That is the Mubarak family tree,” she explains.
Shrugging, he places it aside and pulls out the last item: another, much older and strange-looking piece of paper. It almost has the consistency of cloth, and the creases fade slightly when it’s spread out on the table. Scrawled on it in what seems to be a random order, are odd hieroglyphs. They are somehow familiar to me, but I can’t recall why.
Benuk, suddenly interested, moves up next to Jake to get a better look. “This is ancient, Nephilim markings,” he remarks, confused by its appearance. “Where did you get this?” He asks Grandma.
“The Khufu Bast has many, many secrets, most of which I was not told,” she responds. “The family seal I know was my husband’s, as is the family genealogy information. The other paper, I’ve never seen before, and I have no idea where it came from or
why he would want Jake to have it.”
“What does it say, Benuk?” I ask.
“It doesn’t say anything,” he answers. “Those are only numbers.”
I sit down to take a closer look at it, while Mom and Grandma start talking about her month-long journey to get here. Although it’s a story I want to hear, I can do that later. The paper, or cloth, is soft and pliable and the hieroglyphs are written in a black, almost purple ink.
“You can keep that if you want,” Jake offers. Looking at him, I almost refuse, since Grandma said it was meant for him. But something holds me back. Instead, I fold it carefully and put it in the front breast pocket of my shirt.
“Thank you, Jake.” I pull him close and give him a quick squeeze. “Now we match,” I add, referencing the medallions.
“I have one more item I’d like to take care of,” Zane tells us, back at the head of the table again. Someone has brought in stacks of what look like uniforms, while I was distracted. Taking the top one from the pile, he holds up the standard-issue camouflage shirt so that all of us can see it. Only it isn’t so standard anymore. There’s a patch that’s been added over the left breast and it makes my breath catch.
Inside a circle is the outline of a pyramid, and in the middle of that is a skull with light radiating out from its eyes. Our family seal.
“Soon, we’ll be going into battle,” he announces, as he starts to hand out the gear to those of us gathered around the table. “Although we’re still serving what’s left of the American government, we’re also going into this fight as a world united under what we now know was an organization called the Khufu Bast. This war really started some five-thousand years ago. Now it’s our job to finish it.”
PART TWO
The Rise