Forgotten Origins Trilogy - Box Set: Infected, Heritage, Descent

by Tara Ellis

  “What - ” I begin, but before I can get my question out, he faces me and takes up a fighting stance, gesturing for me to come and get him. My smile returning, I automatically drop into a crouch as adrenaline courses through my blood in response, a feeling I’m becoming accustomed to. Just like before, my heart rate quickens as my primitive instinct that has become so well developed kicks in, focusing my thoughts, while expanding my hearing and vision.

  Seth’s confidence seems to waiver slightly as he takes a step back from me. “Whoa. I swear that your eyes just got a little brighter,” he breathes. Visibly shaking it off, he comes back at me and circles to my left, looking for an opening. He isn’t going to find it.

  “Why are you doing this?” I almost whisper, my predators gaze never leaving his face.

  “Because sometimes things can’t be said with words,” he answers, and mistaking my question for a lapse of concentration, he comes in low at my legs.

  His hands barely brush my skin as I easily leap to the side and then push down at his back, using his own momentum against him. As he stumbles forward, I’m on him, and there isn’t a thing that he can do about it.

  We grapple briefly as I get my hold around his neck solidified, but he’s really no match for me. I’m almost disappointed as his body begins to go limp under me, and I release him before he’s unconscious. But before I can work my right leg out from under him, I’m totally taken off-guard when he suddenly throws his weight back against me, driving me into the ground, and knocking the breath from my lungs.

  Sucking in ragged gasps of air, I find myself pinned, or rather flattened, under Seth’s much heavier form. I have a flashback to the night at the Mudameere lab, when he did something similar before stabbing me in the chest. While I have the upper hand in every other way, he still weighs a whole lot more than I do, and he knows how to use it against me. I silently chastise myself for letting him fool me.

  “I’m not as easy to read, or control, as your boyfriend,” he mumbles into my ear, his face very close to my own. For some reason, this comment infuriates me.

  “Stop calling Chris my boyfriend!” I snarl at him, trying to twist my body out from underneath his. This only causes his grin to broaden however, and I’m suddenly aware of how his hot, bare skin feels against my own. My thin tank top has slid up my ribs during the struggle, and we’re both in shorts.

  “Why, Alex?” he whispers, continuing to hold my body in place with his own. “Am I wrong about your … relationship?”

  “Aren’t you the one that said just over a month ago, that you were more concerned about saving lives than making friends? I just don’t think there’s room in my life right now for a boyfriend Seth. In fact, I’m thinking it’s really not possible for me to have anything else, because the whole freaking world is waiting for me to somehow save it!”

  Tears have sprung to my eyes as my walled-off emotions from the past weeks break through, and I’m helpless to stop it. The smile gone from his face, Seth gently wipes a tear away and I realize that he’s shifted his weight and is no longer actively holding me down…but I don’t throw him off.

  “What are you running from, Alex?” he repeats, as he lowers his lips to cover mine, and I’m totally unprepared for both the act and the sensations it causes. He kisses me with a hunger that I don’t think can ever be quenched. I’m drawn into it. Lost in it. I want to tell him to stop, but my brain is disconnected from my body. Instead, I reach out for his bare chest and try to pull him even closer, wanting more.

  His hands become entwined in my hair, which is lose and splayed out on the ground around us. Pulling at it, I gasp when he bites at my exposed neck, sucking briefly at the sensitive skin before coming back to my parted lips. With an intensity that matches his ice-blue eyes, his caress builds my desires, and instead of pushing me away like Chris did, he drags me further into his intoxicating passion.

  His hands find my bare stomach and my breath catches as they trace slowly up my rib cage, to finally come to rest at the edge of my shirt. Grasping me tightly, I find myself pressed against him, our bodies melding as if they were made to be connected.

  “You don’t ever have to run from me, Alex,” he says huskily, his voice thick. With that, he releases me, and I fall back onto the mat, my body limp. Somewhat shocked, I look up at him questioningly. Our eyes lock briefly and I struggle to interpret what I see. Closing his, effectively shutting me out, he takes a long, noisy breath before rising to his feet. Without another word, he turns away and starts walking back towards our barracks.

  “Where are you going?” I finally manage, when I realize he’s really leaving. Stopping, he looks back at me over his shoulder.

  “To take a cold shower.”

  I sit and watch his bare back as he walks away, leaving me to deal with all of the new questions now tumbling around in my head. Reaching out, I pick up the shirt that he left behind, smelling it briefly before rolling it into a ball. Absently touching the small scar on my shoulder that he marked me with, I wonder if tonight was about actual feelings, or just another, more personal way for him to brand me.

  TWENTY THREE

  I’ve managed to pretty much avoid both Chris and Seth for most of the week. It wasn’t hard, considering my crazy schedule. I’ve literally been in either a lab, doctor’s office, or level zero if I’m not sleeping or eating.

  There’s a meeting scheduled tonight though for all of us, and I’m very apprehensive about it. Both because they’re going to discuss the results from this week with everyone, and because I have no idea how Seth is going to behave. The few times that we passed in the central living area of the dorms, or at the cafeteria, he didn’t act any different from before. Nothing. Not even a grin or a knowing look. I think he enjoys confusing me.

  My overwhelming emotion is guilt. Even though Chris and I agreed to put our relationship on hold, and Seth was the one who started it, and the one who kissed me. I didn’t stop him. I have to admit, too, that I kissed him back. And that I liked it.

  I haven’t even talked with Missy about it, although she knows that something is up. How could she not? It’s Missy. Her guy radar is even stronger than Chris’s ability to pick up on my emotions. Evidently, while I’ve gotten quite good at keeping both him and the Shiners out, there’s no defense for the sixth sense of a best friend.

  I chew at my cheek as I work my way through the maze of hallways, searching for Senator Zane’s office. I’ve been given the afternoon off, but I really want to talk to him privately before our meeting tonight. I need to know what he’s going to tell everyone, because I’m really getting to where I don’t like surprises anymore.

  Of course, my friends know what’s happening now with Baxter, me, and the Shiners. They just don’t have all the details. Like what the tests have revealed, how this is going to all tie in with the military strategies, and what it could mean for our special ops group.

  I berate myself for being even more concerned over having Chris and Seth in the same room with me. This is exactly why I can’t deal with this sort of crap right now, I tell myself, sidestepping to avoid a couple of soldiers walking in the other direction. They both look at me with recognition, but only a little bit of fear. That’s an improvement, at least.

  I have faith in you. The words Chris spoke to me a few weeks ago haunt me, because even though he was referring to the fight we are facing, I can’t help but feel like I broke some sort of trust. I have a deep ache for the kids we were just months ago, when this all started. But we have both changed.

  And Seth. Sighing, I push back long tendrils of hair that have escaped my ponytail. He’s turning out to be quite a good soldier. While Kyle, Nate, Missy, Benuk, and Chris all have things they excel at, Seth appears to tackle each subject with the same amount of energy and skill. He may be cocky and conceited, but I have to admit that he’s a lot smarter than he lets on.

  Which is why I don’t know what to make of our little encounter the other night. Was it because he’s actually attrac
ted to me? Does he just want to get at Chris and prove that he can control me? Or is there another reason that I haven’t figured out yet, that has a strategic purpose behind it? I always feel like I’m in some sort of chess game with him, and that he’s several moves ahead of me.

  Coming up to a door with a simple sign bearing the senator’s name, I think that it’s kind of odd that I’ve never been to this office before now. We’ve always gathered in the larger meeting room that’s close to the barracks. I didn’t even know he had a separate office until I asked Doc Paul where I could find him this morning.

  Knocking at the door, I wonder how he can stand being down here all the time. It’s located on the fourth sub-level, with scant lighting and a cave-like atmosphere. I imagine it has to be due to administration needing access to the still-operational computer network and other electronics down this far. There isn’t any internet or outside connections, but all of their own hardware and software that was shielded, is okay. They have a small slice of normalcy here, other than feeling like a mole.

  “Come in!” he barks from behind the heavy, metal door.

  Peeking my head inside, I attempt a smile when he looks up at me from a large, mahogany desk. However, his scowl is so deep that I forget about everything I was just obsessing over, and quickly close the door behind me. “What’s wrong?” I ask, having no doubt that it’s something big.

  “We can’t put this off anymore, Alex,” he states, pushing back from the desk. Standing, he clasps his hands behind his back and starts pacing the floor as he speaks. “We just had our first report of a blatant attack, which left four families slaughtered in their own homes!” I sometimes forget what an imposing figure the senator is, but right now he leaves no doubt as to what kind of a man and leader he is.

  Sitting in the nearest chair, I place my head in my hands and try not to let this news add to my already stifling guilt. “Where?” I finally mutter.

  “Does it matter?” Zane retorts, slamming his fist on the desk. “It’ll be the same all over the world soon, Alex. This time, it was on the outskirts of Spokane, but tomorrow it could be us.”

  “What am I supposed to do, Zane?” I ask him, looking at his troubled face. “I still have to be within fifty feet of a Shiner in order to control him! How can I possibly make any kind of difference?”

  “It’s more than your ability to manipulate them,” he says more softly, coming to kneel next to me. “I have no doubt that you’ll continue to improve, and eventually be a key figure out in the field, but even more important is your role as a leader.”

  “A leader of what?”

  “Word about you has spread, Alex. Even without the knowledge of your connection to the Shiners, people are beginning to see you as an icon: A symbol of hope for the future. Sure, a lot of it’s spurred on by rumor, and probably a good dose of exaggeration, but it doesn’t matter how. All people care about is that massive alien ship hovering around our planet, and the fact that you are somehow a descendent of their race. That you were responsible for saving us all from the Holocene virus, and may be the key to saving us again from the NephiII virus.

  “Once word is out about you and the Shiners, that’s only going to fuel this vision. They see you as some sort of crossbreed that thwarted the Nephilim and Mudameere, and took our side instead. Since you now have inhuman characteristics, you’re viewed as some sort of super soldier…and we’re going with it.”

  “What do you mean, ‘going with it’?” I ask, my stomach knotting a bit. I don’t like where this is going. It’s worse than I even imagined.

  “People need something to believe in and unite them,” Zane explains, moving back to his desk. “We need all the help we can get, especially with some of the foreign countries. This is going to take a world-wide effort and if it helps to wave your banner, than that’s what we’ll do.”

  “Won’t the Mudameere or RA just come after me, then? Isn’t that why you wanted to keep everything with the Shiners quiet?”

  Shaking his head, he now starts to organize the stacks of papers in front of him. “Very few people outside of this base know where you’re located. That’s part of what we’re going to discuss tonight, and what I’m trying to finalize now. Your group will never be in any one location for long. You’ll be with a roaming unit, and only come back here to rest and re-stock. You’ll be hidden when you aren’t on assignment, which will be very specific, strategic strikes used to obtain needed information for our next strike. We’ll leak enough information to continue fueling the stories of your existence and success, but not where you are.”

  I’m glad that I came here. It’s going to take me several hours just to decide how I feel about all of this. Leaning back in the chair, I happen to look above Zane’s head at what appears to be a framed letter. There’s something familiar about it. The senator has picked up the old-style receiver of a phone on his desk, and is talking animatedly with someone about coordinates, so I wander over to get a closer look.

  At the top is a picture of an old Native American, and I realize it’s a copy of the same famous speech I found on the floor at the Mountain Vortex store. The speech where Chief Sealth (Seattle) responds to the request to purchase their land. There’s a section that has been highlighted and I read it quietly to myself.

  “… One thing we know, which the white man may one day discover – our God is the same God. You may think now that you own Him as you wish to own our land: but you cannot.”

  I wonder briefly if this was already on the wall when Zane got here, of if he put it up himself. It’s obvious he’ll be on the phone for a while, so I silently wave goodbye and slip back out into the dim hall.

  Something I haven’t even considered until now, is what my Nephume origins mean. Is God still my creator? Or was He ever? RA thinks that he is a god, and that the Nephilim’s ability to manipulate DNA and create nearly eternal life is proof of that. I guess you could also say that his sense of ownership gives him the belief that he’s entitled to all of creation, which is why he views us and Earth with such little respect. We’re just a clump of dirt and some bugs in his universe.

  But if you apply Chief Seattle’s speech to all life, then we all have the same origin, no matter what name you give your creator. Our own scientists were getting close to the same kind of DNA manipulation that the Nephilim perfected tens of thousands of years ago. I have little doubt, that if we’re left alone, we’ll eventually be in a similar situation as the Nephilim. Cycles.

  I read a paper once about a pattern, or mathematical sequence, that can be found in pretty much anything. It’s called the Fibonacci cycle, I think. I remember it mostly as the Golden Ratio, though. It was discovered a long time ago by some guy studying the ratio that rabbits multiply in. That fact alone was enough to bait me into wanting to know more about it. I don’t usually get into science much, but this was so bizarre that I was hooked.

  Anyway, this cycle was then discovered to exist in basically everything in the natural universe. From the pattern of petals on a flower, to how branches grow on a tree, and even the spirals of galaxies. Some people believe that this proves everything in the Universe was made by intelligent design. Well, wouldn’t that also imply the same designer?

  So who designed me? Or am I a freak of nature? Or more precisely, a creation born from the combination of alien and human DNA, then manipulated and mutated. Human DNA follows the Golden Ratio, too. But mine has been determined to have an extra chain. Does this mean that my very existence has broken the rules? If that’s what it’s going to take to save what’s left of our world, then I’m willing to accept my fate, but I have a feeling that in the end, someone will have to pay.

  TWENTY FOUR

  “Come on Alex, why won’t you talk to me?” Missy is tugging at my arm, trying in vain to get me to answer her. She’s been bugging me ever since I came back to our room, and has kept at it all the way here to the meeting.

  “I’m sorry, Miss,” I say quietly, turning to her so she sees that I’m
giving her my full attention. “I’m just processing a lot right now. I promise you, we’ll have a long gossip session tonight, okay?” Smiling at me now, she seems somewhat satisfied, but I know her well. Missy understands that there’s more to my mood than just the Shiner stuff, but has enough tact to let it go. I’m contemplating whether I should whisper more of an explanation, when Seth takes care of it for me.

  “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 end up turned 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 that she is sure to demand answers to later on. I pray that 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 as 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 whose watching.