by Tara Ellis
“Oh I’m not going to hurt you,” he assures me, moving to within a couple of feet. “I’m going to kill you!”
He closes the last of the space between us and I grab desperately at the cross on the wall behind me, bringing it around. As he raises the knife to plunge down into my chest, I surprise him by stepping forward to meet him. Lunging with all my strength, I come up under his arms, ramming the tip of the cross into his stomach and we fall back onto the floor together.
Appalled at what I’ve had to do, I roll away from him. He’s dropped the knife and is looking down in astonishment at the carving that is protruding from his mid-section. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, scooting back on all fours.
Blood is rapidly pooling beneath him and his head falls back as his breathing slows, becoming ragged. I gag at the coppery stench of his blood and sit back on my heels, not knowing what to do. Eyes fluttering, he gasps once, and then focuses on my nearby form.
“Alexis,” he whispers, reaching out to me with great effort. Looking into his eyes, I see the kind Mr. Jones I’ve known all my life. Loud, violent sobs rack my body as I lean forward and take hold of his offered hand. Baxter stops barking and lies beside us, whimpering. “It’s okay, dear,” he says softly. “Thank you.” Closing his eyes, his hand goes limp and I know that he is gone.
Burying my head in my arms, I cry for Mr. Jones and everyone else that I am unable to help. This was all for nothing. My blood isn’t pure enough. Now I have lost all the people that I love and there is nothing left for me. Baxter licks my face, and I wrap my arms around his neck. “I still have you, don’t I buddy?” Although he is a big dog, he somehow manages to climb into my lap.
We stay that way for several minutes, consoling each other. I finally get enough of a grip to contemplate how I can drag Chris back to the cabin, if he’s still alive. Looking down at my hands resting in Baxter’s fur, I see that they are covered in blood and can’t help but feel like it represents the blood of the world.
I know that in reality the blood on my right hand is mostly mine. Mr. Jones’s blood is still damp on my left forearm, and the rest of it that covers my left hand is all Chris’s. So much blood, swimming with both infected and uninfected DNA. I wonder briefly if I’ve now been exposed, or if Chris’s purest DNA would somehow offset the effect. Wait.
Sitting up with a jolt, I startle Baxter and he leaps off my lap. “My blood isn’t good enough Baxter, because I’m only fifty percent Egyptian,” I explain to my friend, who stares at me with interest. “But Chris is seventy-five percent Okanogan Indian, a tribe that is native to this region. Native Americans have been in this area for thousands of years, back when this pyramid was built.”
Excited now, I get to my feet and go back to the crystal skull, my smeared blood dried on its surface. With cautious hope, I place my left hand on the forehead of the skull and push against it. Almost immediately, it starts to vibrate. Crying with relieved joy, I step back from it and watch as it begins to glow, intricate patterns of light running throughout the inside of it.
As the intensity builds, the vibration spreads to first the walls and then the floor. A low hum fills the air and the hairs on my arms stand on end. Kneeling down on the floor, I hold onto Baxter as light gathers in the space over our heads.
With a low rumbling sound and the scraping of rock against rock, the top fifty feet of the pyramid lifts off above us and rises up into the night sky, dirt, and small trees rolling down it. After everything that has happened, I’m still not prepared for such a site, and I’m mesmerized by it.
Energy pulsates in the air around me and reaches a crescendo as it starts to crackle. Tendrils of electricity reach out from the piece hovering, and it begins to spin. Slowly at first, but then it quickly gains momentum. Faster and faster it goes, until huge bolts of light shoot out from multiple directions, reaching out through the night sky to places unseen.
“The anti-virus,” I say with certainty. “We’ve done it!” I think back to what the professor had said and now Mr. Jones and I know that this might be only the beginning. But what the creators of the virus don’t understand is the human desire to fight for our freedom and our value of life. To simply be alive isn’t enough.
A thicker beam of light erupts from the top of the spinning triangle and then out the bottom, engulfing me. As I gaze up into what I hope is our cure, letting it wash over me, I finally realize that our greatest gift, and weapon, is love. I mean, who can ever win against something as powerful as that?
With a renewed sense of purpose, I gather my stuff and then turn and head for the stairwell. Pausing at Mr. Jones’s body, I only wish that he had been a few minutes later. I take some peace in knowing that he is with his wife. I have no doubt now that there is so much more to this life than what we can simply see. My dad will always be with me, and will be waiting for me when it’s my time to move on. But that won’t be tonight.
The light continues to intensify behind me while I begin my descent. It takes much less time going down the stairs than it did to come up. When I reach the platform with my medallion still in place, I pull it out and like I suspected, the room starts to slowly scrape back up into its original position. I put the chain back over my head and turn on my flashlight as Baxter and I rise up into the dark chamber.
Half expecting to be greeted by a group of Shiners, I am relieved to find that I’m alone. Making my way back through the long tunnels, I creep quietly to the opening of the pyramid. Baxter walks out first, sniffing at the ground but otherwise at ease. I follow him closely, looking out into the woods for any sign of someone waiting for us. It’s hard to believe that only a few of them would have come for me. Not after what Mr. Jones said. Even if the anti-virus works, there’s no way to know how long it will take for them to be cured. That’s assuming they’ll ever really be normal again.
With each passing minute that I’m not attacked, my confidence grows and eventually I’m running, frantic to get back to Jake and Chris. The emotions from the past days are beginning to catch up to me and tears begin blurring my vision as I hurtle through the trees.
When I can’t find them after half an hour, I panic and start calling out, not caring anymore who hears me. Sitting on the cooling ground, all I hear in return is the hooting of an owl. I turn to my friend. “Baxter, find Jake!” Baxter gives me one of his classic looks and seems to understand. Barking excitedly, he tears off to my right and then through some bushes in the distance. I quickly follow, not noticing the scratches on my arms as I push through the branches after him. I’m just in time to see him running up a slope and his bark has changed pitch.
“Baxter! Alex! Is that you?” I can barely hear it, but begin to cry even harder at the sound of Chris’s voice. He’s alive! Scurrying up the hill after my dog, I try to answer him, but only a sob comes out.
Once at the top, I can see them in the distance. They’ve lit the emergency candle, and Baxter is jumping around Jacob, who is not only standing on his own, but also hoping up and down. And he’s smiling. My flashlight gives me away and Jake comes running to me. I drop down on my knees and gather him up in a fierce hug. His face is cool, the fever gone. Could it really happen that fast?
“You did it, Alex! I knew you would! Is that what the light is? I’m already starting to feel better. What happened? What did you do?”
Pulling away from me, he searches my face for answers. “It’s hard to explain,” I whisper, my voice weak with emotion. “But Dad showed me. He always looked out for us, Jake. He still loves you, don’t ever forget that.”
Taking his face in my hands, I look closely at him. He actually does look almost normal. There are still bags under his eyes, but his color is good. “When did you start feeling better?” I quiz him, still afraid to believe it.
“I dunno. I guess a little bit after that light thingy. My throat doesn’t even hurt anymore! Do we have any food? I’m hungry.” Smiling, I hug him again. Now he really sounds like himself.
Taking my hand, he st
arts to pull me towards Chris. “We need to take him to the doctor,” he tells me. “Do you think it’s safe?”
Following him in a daze, I try to focus on his questions. “I’m not sure. We’ll get him back to the cabin though, and then we’ll figure out what to do.” I allow him to lead me into the candlelight.
“Told ya I wasn’t going anywhere.” Still propped against the tree, Chris looks pale, but seems alert. I’m fighting the familiar urge to hug him, but decide to give in to it. Kneeling down beside him, I do my best to wrap my arms around his shoulders without hurting him. He returns the embrace, holding me close. The rest of my fear melts away and for the first time since this nightmare started, I almost feel safe.
Pointing up at the rays of light spreading out across the night, he grins. “I’m assuming you have something to do with that?”
Turning to sit down beside him, I look up at the display. “Well, kinda. But to be honest, it couldn’t have happened without you. Or your blood.” Judging by the odd look that he’s giving me, it’s obvious he wants some answers. “There is a pyramid. I— I don’t even know how to describe it. What happened inside, I mean. I’ll explain it later once we’re out of here. I just can’t … do it right now.” To my relief, he doesn’t push it.
“What about the Khufu Bast and the Mudameere? If what the professor said is right, then this might only be the first part of their plan, even if the anti-virus works on everyone.”
Fighting the new fear that threatens to take over, I try and get a grasp on things. “Right now, there should be more than a dozen pyramids all around the world releasing the anti-virus. According to the professor, they were connected, and this wouldn’t have happened if they weren’t all activated. It seems like it started working on Jake incredibly fast, but there’s no way to know how long it’ll take for everyone else. It might not even react the same way for someone who was completely changed. I’m hoping that it will at least buy the Khufu Bast some time, and maybe we’ll be able to figure out how to help them.”
Jake and Baxter come to sit with us and I’m starting to feel like we have been in one spot for too long. It would be a mistake to think that we’re out of danger now.
“We don’t even know who to trust,” Chris presses, and I hate to admit that he’s right. Taking his hand in mine, I have a strong feeling that our journey together is just beginning. I wrap my free arm around my little brother and he doesn’t resist when I pull him even closer.
“We can trust each other,” I say to them both, and we sit in silence for a minute, thinking back over everything that’s happened.
A cracking branch reminds me that we are still too exposed. We all sit back, turning towards the sound. “There could be more Shiners out here,” I whisper. “They wouldn’t have just sent a few after us. Did you see any when I was gone?”
“We saw some movement nearby earlier, but they weren’t interested in us,” he answers, gathering the few items next to him into the backpack. “I think that all they cared about was finding and stopping you. Obviously, that didn’t work out for them.”
I can’t help but smile, but then I grow serious again when I lift his shirt away from the wound on his side. It stopped bleeding, but it’s ugly, and I’m afraid that as soon as he moves it’ll start oozing again. Looking around somewhat helplessly, I try to come up with a plan. “We have to get you back to the cabin.”
“Maybe we can help with that.”
Jumping at the voice behind me, I spin around, my hand going automatically to the rifle slung over my back. Standing at the edge of the clearing, is our neighbor.
“Hey, it’s Brent’s dad!” Jake yells. I place a hand on his arm, just in case he was thinking about going to him. Baxter growls quietly, but remains at Jacob’s side.
I don’t know Brent’s dad that well, but even I can tell that he looks confused and not confident like my mom and the others have been acting. His eyes are still glowing, but dimly. He rubs his hands together nervously and shifts from one foot to the other. Maybe the first thing that goes is the connection they all share, the single purpose that was driving them. I relax my grip on the rifle slightly.
“I don’t understand what’s going on,” he continues, not moving any closer, “or why I’m in the woods. I want to get out of here and go home and find my family, but it’s obvious that you need some help first, Alex.” Gazing fearfully at the dark woods, he runs a hand through his hair in a very human gesture. My hopes rise.
There’s movement behind him, and stepping out of the shadows and into the glow of the candlelight … is my mom. Her blonde hair is loose and messy, framing her face the way she used to wear it. Not moving with the same grace and poise of a Shiner, she stumbles forward and looks quickly from Jake, to Chris, and then me. Praying again with my newly restored faith, I smile cautiously at her.
The forest grows still and then relief floods me as she smiles back. More important than the curve to her lips is the undeniable love that’s shining in her normal, blue eyes. Encouraged, I kneel back down next to Chris as they make their way to us.
“Now what?” he asks me quietly, with guarded optimism.
“Now we go back and pick up what’s left,” I say with determination. “Then we wait.” Looking up at the dark sky pierced by the still throbbing light, I wonder at what might be out there, coming for us. “If we have to … we fight.”
THE END
Keep reading! Alex’s story continues in book two and three of the Forgotten Origins Trilogy: HERITAGE and DESCENT.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Author Tara Ellis lives in a small town in beautiful Washington State in the Pacific Northwest. She enjoys the quiet lifestyle with her husband, two teenage kids and several dogs. Having been a firefighter/EMT and working in the medical field for many years, she now teaches CPR and concentrates on family, photography and writing young adult novels.
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HERITAGE
HERITAGE
BLOOD OF OUR ANCESTORS
TARA ELLIS
-Book Two-
Forgotten Origins Trilogy
HERITAGE
Copyright © 2013 Tara Ellis
4th Edition May 2016
Cover Design © Melchelle Designs
http://melchelledesigns.com/
Photography by Tara Ellis Photography
Model – Megan Pless
Editor: Katie Beitz
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, Characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Titles by Tara Ellis
Forgotten Origins Trilogy
Infected
Heritage
Descent
The Samantha Wolf Mystery Series
The Mystery of Hollow Inn
The Secret of Camp Whispering Pines
The Beach House Mystery
The Heiress of Covington Ranch
The Haunting of Eagle Creek Middle School
Find these books on her author page at Amazon
www.amazon.com/author/taraellis
To my family, for without their support, I never would have been able to write this book. My son Brandon gave me some great storyline suggestions and my daughter Megan was always there to bounce ideas off of. Once again, my mom stuck with me through it all, chapter by chapter.
ONE
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It’s been almost a month since I activated the pyramids, and everything is falling apart. Looking around at the woods moving slowly past me, I pull my long hair out of my face and continue to pedal up the lonely country road. I’m confident that my friend Chris is close behind, watching my back. He’s always there when I need him.
At sixteen, I’ve experienced more challenges than most people do in a lifetime, so this shouldn’t be so hard. I’ve been putting off this visit to the professor’s, but I can’t avoid him any longer. Phones have been spotty at best and I haven’t been able to reach him. I can feel time slipping away and, as much as I hate it, he is the only person who may know anything or have suggestions as to what we should do. After some long discussions late at night, Chris and I came up with this plan.
We have to assume that we might be watched by the organization that killed my father: the Mudameere’s. Although we believe they went into hiding before the Holocene meteor shower, and will remain there until all threat of infection is past, we can’t rely on that. Our own Government has set up camp in town and barricaded us off. As soon as they were able to regroup and find the location of the pyramid, they moved in. Thankfully that took a few days, and we were long gone from the woods and back home by then. They have been trying to find who was inside the pyramid, systematically taking blood samples from everyone in town and comparing the DNA to that found on the skull. Luckily for us, they are going by map grid vs. alphabetically, but they are getting close.