Earth Sentinels Collection

by Elizabeth M Herrera

  The enraged tribesmen, threatened by the intruders, shot arrows that sailed to the center of the river, piercing the surface, whizzing through the undercurrent, narrowly missing their targets. To avoid being hit, the caiman quickened its speed, covering an amazing distance in just a few seconds.

  Eva started to turn blue. Need air! she pleaded.

  Sensing her desperation, the caiman glided to the surface where the sunlight danced on the water. Zachary and Eva took deep breaths, filling their lungs.

  The tribesmen were now tiny figures on the distant shore and no longer a threat.

  The riders sat up on the rugged shell of the great reptile. Their racing hearts calmed as the river carried them away.

  To Hell and Back

  THE SUBWAY TRAIN sped through the dark tunnel, slowing as it entered the station. Its forlorn whistle woke up Haruto and the other women as it came to a stop. When the car doors opened, the women saw a troop of UN soldiers waiting for them.

  Haruto thought, They all look the same.

  The women warily stepped onto the platform. The soldiers escorted them to the opposite side of the terminal where the metal doors slid opened, revealing a gray-walled corridor.

  They were led to an open vehicle sporting eight tires and four rows of black vinyl seating. “Get in,” the leader said, motioning with his hand, indicating the prisoners were to occupy the two middle rows. Haruto sat behind the other women and studied the long corridor. There were no doors. No hallways. No means of escape.

  The vehicle hummed past the gray walls for several minutes before coming to a “T” in the corridor, stopping in front of a laboratory with gleaming glass doors.

  Inside the laboratory were four hospital-styled gurneys and a row of black-topped tables, which held microscopes, glass beakers and metal trays. Two scientists, wearing white lab coats, stood near the entrance. Neither of them appeared to be quite human. They had almond-shaped eyes that were more violet than blue and spaced a bit too far apart. Their skin texture was rough with a faint olive tone, and their ears and noses were smaller than normal.

  The glass doors slid open.

  Haruto watched the scientists step into the corridor. Their peculiar faces and off-kilter gaits caused an uncontrollable fear to erupt within her. She jumped from the vehicle, attempting to escape, although she had no idea of where to run to. It didn’t matter. Anywhere, but here.

  She didn’t get far.

  A soldier caught Haruto by the arm. She struggled to free herself from his powerful grip, spinning around, punching him in the throat. This move should have disabled him, but it didn’t. He seized both of her arms, forcing her to her knees.

  One of the scientists smiled insincerely, showing his nub-like teeth, saying in a raspy voice, “Calm down. There’s nothing to fear. This won’t hurt a bit.” He attempted to press a handheld device against her shoulder. Haruto screamed in defiance, and, despite her arms being held firmly in place, managed to kick one of her legs sideways, nearly striking the scientist’s ankle.

  The soldier angrily grabbed a fistful of Haruto’s long hair, jerking her head back while roughly stepping on her leg. She cried out in pain, but continued fighting, scratching at his hands with her nails.

  A second soldier, who seemed annoyed by the inconvenience, got out of the vehicle to help his comrade. Together, they secured Haruto’s arms and legs, but she kept struggling.

  The scientist stepped closer to her, saying, “Tssk, tssk, tssk. It will all be over soon.” He pressed the device against her arm, pulling the trigger. Haruto’s head slumped and eyes closed. The soldiers held up her limp body.

  Both of the scientists wore emotionless smiles as they turned toward the other women whose faces expressed an unfathomable fear.

  “No, don’t!” the youngest one cried out, but she was knocked out cold and fell over the seat.

  The third woman was also drugged.

  The soldiers carried the unconscious women into the laboratory, placing each one on top of a gurney. The scientists cuffed the victims’ arms and legs to the side rails. Once the women were secured, the soldiers left the room.

  The scientists busied themselves with work. One grabbed a metal tray, which held medical instruments, neatly arranged like silverware for a king’s dinner. The tray was placed on a cart next to the sedated Haruto. A round overhead light was switched on to illuminate the work area. The second scientist picked up a device with a small spinning roller on its end. He moved the abrasive head methodically along Haruto’s arm, leaving behind a pink swathe on her skin. After the procedure was finished, the exfoliated epidermis that had accumulated in the device’s bin was emptied into several petri dishes. Next, he used a syringe to draw blood. He labeled the vials, then placed them into a slotted tray.

  The first scientist said, “Now for the reproductive samples.”

  Although her eyes remained closed, Haruto began to stir, moving her feet and groaning.

  “This one’s waking up.”

  “Unusual. Make a note of it. Perhaps we should give her another dose.”

  Haruto stopped moving, becoming unconscious once more.

  “Never mind, let’s finish this.”

  The second scientist used stainless-steel scissors to cut off Haruto’s silk pants and underwear, leaving her lower half exposed. The other one reached above his head to flip a second switch on the overhead light. Sound waves began pulsating over Haruto’s abdomen. Her mid-section became semi-transparent as her cells danced to the machine’s rhythm—vacillating between being pure energy and tangible particles.

  The strange sensation woke up Haruto. She took a deep breath while trying to focus. Slowly things became clear. The gurney. The scientists. One of them was positioned over her lower abdomen, concentrating with his violet eyes as he slid a pair of elongated medical tweezers through her ethereal skin and underlying tissues, reaching inside to pluck an ovary.

  The sight made Haruto scream at the top of her lungs.

  Startled, both of the scientists jumped back. One of them grabbed the handheld device from the metal tray, attempting to re-administer her dose.

  But Haruto had no intention of that happening. From the depths of her soul, she cried out, “NOOOO!” The sound reverberated throughout her being.

  Time stood still.

  For an instant, a knowing came over the Miko. She understood that she controlled her destiny and that nothing happened to her against her will.

  She disappeared from the laboratory.

  Haruto materialized in the Mikos’ garden. She lay on the ground in the same position she had been on the gurney, except now she was free of the restraints.

  Her sudden appearance scared a host of sparrows out of a nearby tree. The birds shrilled as they took to flight, gaining the attention of the youngest Miko, Konomi, who was brushing her hair near a window on the third floor of the temple. She watched the sparrows fly away, wondering what had startled them. She spotted Haruto lying half-naked in the garden. “Oh, my God!” Konomi dropped her brush, rushing out of the room, her long black hair trailing behind her.

  Haruto struggled to her feet. An image of the scientist reaching into her abdomen flashed through her mind. Feeling violated, she shuddered, wiping at her bare stomach as if it would remove the horrific memory. All she wanted to do was wrap herself in Billy’s arms to feel safe.

  She stumbled through the garden toward the curator’s house. Her weak legs carried her along the path. The front of the house was bathed in sunlight. A daisy grew in the pot beside the red door, which creaked as Haruto opened it.

  She paused over the threshold. The futon was neatly made. Billy’s black hat rested on a peg, and his clothes were stacked on the dresser. But he was nowhere in sight. She started to go back outside to find him, but then she remembered she needed to cover her nakedness. Haruto went into the house to look for pants, but the effort proved to be too much for her. Exhausted and traumatized, she dropped onto the futon. She couldn’t deal with the surr
eality of being dissected like a frog one minute, and then at home the next. Haruto wanted nothing more than to escape into sleep.

  A few minutes later, Konomi, Hoshino and several other Mikos arrived at the curator’s house. Out of breath, they tentatively opened the door, not sure what they would find inside.

  Haruto lay on the futon with her eyes closed. She didn’t respond to their presence.

  The women slowly approached her bedside. Konomi, whose long hair still hung loose, leaned down, pulling the duvet over Haruto’s lower half to provide her with some decency.

  Haruto opened her weary eyes, peering at them.

  In a hushed tone, Konomi asked, “Are you okay?”

  With the barest of motions, Haruto responded by shaking her head. This broke the other Mikos’ hearts.

  Konomi knelt beside the futon, stroking the distraught woman’s arm, but this caused Haruto to wince in pain because the young woman had unknowingly touched her raw sampled skin. “I’m so sorry,” Konomi said, getting up, unsure of how to comfort her friend.

  No one knew what to say. Haruto’s reappearance after being taken by the soldiers didn’t bode well for her, especially since she had come back partially naked.

  Konomi implored, “Can you tell us what happened?”

  Unable to explain the unexplainable, Haruto hoarsely asked, “Where’s Billy?”

  The group remained quiet.

  Haruto glanced at each woman, but each looked away. “Konomi?”

  The young girl burst into tears, admitting, “They took him.”

  Tears welled in Haruto’s eyes. She knew what horrors awaited him.

  “But you came back,” Konomi said with forced enthusiasm, “and so will Billy.”

  Haruto shook her head.

  Hoshino, the eldest in the group, said, “If you escaped, they will come looking for you, then we’ll all be in danger. It’s important we know what’s going on.”

  The other women nervously glanced at each other.

  Haruto contemplated the recent events, which was difficult because of the anesthesia haze clouding her brain. “I’m not sure what happened.”

  “You just woke up here?” Hoshino clarified, “In the garden?”

  Haruto thought about the clone-like soldiers, the subway tunnel, and the alien scientists with their bizarre sampling of her genetic materials. Was it all a dream?

  Hoshino leaned forward, pressing for an answer, “Tell us what you remember.”

  Haruto felt herself shutting down. “I don’t feel well.”

  Although Hoshino was anxious for an answer, she backed off, standing upright. “Of course, we can talk later. Until then, get some rest. Do you want us to bring you some food?”

  Haruto shook her head.

  “We’ll check on you later,” Hoshino said graciously, but on the way out, she cast a troubled glance back at Haruto.

  The interaction had placed an additional burden on the already overwhelmed and exhausted Haruto. Alone, she fell into a disturbing dream, tossing and turning. An hour later, still in the twilight of sleep, she uttered, “Billy.” The sound of her own voice woke her up. For a fleeting moment, everything was fine, but then it all rushed back to her. The torment of being taken prisoner. The inhumane experiments. Her inexplicable return home. And Billy. Where is Billy? Is he safe? Do the scientists have him? Wanting answers, Haruto prayed, “Sweet Devas, please help me.”

  A vision appeared of a foggy swamp strewn with dead blackened trees. Vultures were perched on the twisted limbs. A fire-breathing dragon slithered out of the mist, his body covered with iridescent green scales, which appeared lackluster in this dreary realm. On top of his head, horns curved over his furry mane. He had multiple rows of razor-sharp teeth, and fiery eyes that stared at Haruto while his forked tongue flicked in and out. But the Miko was not afraid of the beast. They had traveled together many times before. She bowed to greet him.

  The dragon grumbled, “Come with me,” as if he had been rudely awakened from a nap, then, without another word, he lumbered across the soggy shoreline swishing his long spiny tail. Haruto walked by his side.

  It wasn’t long before a familiar iron gate appeared out of the mist. The ornate doors swung open upon their arrival. The two of them strolled through the portal. The fog soon gave way to sunlight streaming through a forest. Birds chirped. A yellow-and-black butterfly danced over white wildflowers.

  They came to a clearing where five spirit guides sat on logs around a fire pit.

  The dragon announced, “Haruto is here to meet with you, again.”

  Three samurai soldiers stood to bow, holding their helmets by their sides. Each was fitted with a different color of armor—one green, one red and one black. Sheathed swords were tucked inside their waistbands.

  A crone, who had wild gray hair and wore a plain black dress, remained seated, cackling with amusement at the Miko’s presence.

  A young priestess, wearing a cream-colored gown, approached Haruto. In a gentle voice, the spirit guide said, “It is good to see you. Please join us.”

  Haruto hesitated because the last time she was here she had ignored their advice, and now she wondered if she would be judged harshly for her past transgression. Nonetheless, she sat on a log between the priestess and the samurai outfitted in red, who said, “It has been too long, my dear friend. Much too long.” His kind words helped Haruto to relax.

  She agreed, “Yes, a lot has happened since then.”

  “Would you care to tell us about your saga?” He rested his armored arm on his thigh, ready to listen.

  “But you must know already.”

  “Tell us anyway. It will be cathartic for you.”

  There was so much to tell them that it was difficult to know where to begin, so Haruto started with the first time they had met, “As you know, I ignored your advice and went to another realm where Bechard the fallen angel resided. He convinced me and others to join his cause to save the planet from mankind’s greed and indifference. It seemed like a noble cause until the world retaliated.” She lamented, “It nearly cost the lives of many innocent people. Sure, there were some concessions, but none worth the risk. On a positive note, I did meet the love of my life, but now he’s been taken by soldiers.” She added bitterly, “There’s always an endless supply of soldiers. And now, I can only pray he’s safe.” Finally, Haruto stated her main concern, “I need help saving Billy. Can you please help me?”

  The priestess responded, “When you are ready, you will do it yourself. It will be part of your journey—the one that began when the virus afflicted you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “This virus did more than cause billions of deaths around the world—”

  “Billions!?” Haruto was shocked by the enormity of the casualties.

  “Yes, it was cataclysmic. Its rippling effects are still flowing throughout the universe, impacting timeline after timeline. However, this virus impacted you differently than most. For you, it is in the process of mutating your genes by activating the DNA strands, which have been locked away from mankind for millenniums.”

  The samurai in red informed her, “There are others like you.”

  “Like me? What do you mean?”

  “You and others are mutating.”

  “Into what? Monsters?”

  The priestess shook her head. “People always assume the worst. No, this change is part of your destiny. You signed up for this, Haruto, before you came into this lifetime.”

  Haruto mulled over the spirit guide’s message, acknowledging she had chosen a difficult spiritual path. But what about the rest of the world? “It’s hard to believe everyone signed up for this.”

  “Yes and no. It wasn’t a specific part of the plan for most, but it was always a possibility. The engineered virus was cast to the wind without regard for its impact on humanity. The act violated the Law of Oneness. There will be repercussions.”

  “You should have warned me.”

  “That is not
true. The knowledge would have impacted your decisions, which in turn would have interfered with your spiritual advancement. You see, your activated DNA has opened a door that will allow you to step into the full awareness of your true self. The choice to follow where it may lead is yours, of course.”

  The priestess continued, “This is a pivotal time for mankind—a time when destinies are merging, separating, and sometimes colliding. Our advice to you is this: Work on establishing your powers that are coming into being. It is through these powers that you will be able to help yourself and Billy. But be discreet. The presiding forces in your world do not fully understand the transformation that is taking place within you. The less they know, the better.”

  The vision abruptly ended.

  Haruto opened her eyes. She gazed out the window, past the part in the curtains, watching the clouds in the blue sky morph from one shape to another, recreating themselves over and over again, while she pondered the spirit guides’ messages.

  There was a rustle at the end of the room. Haruto instinctively turned her head toward the sound.

  Bechard sat at the dining table in a chair that seemed child-sized under his exceptionally tall frame. His blue-tipped wings were far too large for the small space and pressed against the free-standing sink. His dark-blue robe draped to the floor, puddling around his feet. The fallen angel stared at Haruto with his ultramarine eyes. “It’s time we talked.”

  She shook her head. “Not now.”

  “I know this hasn’t been easy for you.” Bechard paused a moment, then delivered the news he knew she longed to hear. “Billy is alive.”

  Overcome with relief, Haruto sat up, modestly holding the blanket over herself. “Is he safe?”

  “For now, yes.”

  “Promise me, please…you’ll let me know if he’s in danger.”

  The fallen angel hesitated. He knew the fallibility of making promises and of the variable outcomes the future held, but he also knew he would do his best to keep the promise, so he agreed.