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AEGIS EVOLUTION: Action Adventure Mystery Thriller (Aegis League Series Book 3)

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by S. S. Segran




  Aegis Evolution

  by S.S.Segran

  Table of Contents

  Praise for the Aegis League Series

  Copyright Information

  Dedication

  Begin Reading

  List of Charachters

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  FREE ebooks by the Author

  An electrifying thrill-ride over Hunger Games, Maze Runner & Percy Jackson territory.”

  ~ Amazon Reviewer ~

  “If Daniel Silva and Rick Riordan had a love child, it would be the young S.S.Segran. With the intensity of an adult spy thriller and the relatable characters that teenagers enjoy, Aegis Incursion takes YA Action, Adventure, and Fantasy to a new level.”

  ~ The OnlineBookClub.org ~

  “Five Stars! A great book to dive into and a fantastic follow up to the first. One of the best things author S.S.Segran has done here is to produce a sequel that can be read as a standalone.”

  ~ Readers’ Favorite Reviews ~

  “Astonishingly imaginative and thoughtful...”

  ~ Samuel F. Pickering – Inspiration for the Academy Award-winning movie Dead Poets Society ~

  “A good sequel stands alone as a strong work without the accomplishments of its predecessors, but a great sequel inspires readers to go back and relive a book they’ve already read, and that is precisely what this book accomplishes.”

  ~ The US Review of Books ~

  “Aegis Incursion is a more than worthy read for anyone looking for a story that is unique, creative, and very well-written. You wouldn't know this was the second book in a series as it stands firm on its own.”

  ~ J.A. Blum – Amazon Reviews ~

  “This was a fantastic book, I thought the first book was great, but this raises the bar to a whole new level!”

  ~ Cath McTernan – Amazon Reviews ~

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  AEGIS EVOLUTION by S.S.Segran

  Copyright©2018. S.S.Segran. All rights reserved.

  First Published by INKmagination Feb 2018

  Printed in the Unites States of America

  Cover Design and Illustrations © 2018 by S.K.S.

  ‘MARAUDER’ designed by Simon Breeze & S.K.S.

  Book Teaser & Trailer by: INKmagination.

  S.S.Segran asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this book.

  eISBN: 978-0-9910813-8-7

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic or otherwise without the prior permission of the author.

  Receive free short stories, exclusive giveaways, advance reader opportunities and updates directly from the author. Visit www.sssegran.com to subscribe as an Aegis Insider.

  Dedicated to the valiant souls who keep the light of knowledge burning in the face of a relentless onslaught by those who seek to extinguish it.

  #EDUCATIONISNOTACRIME

  Masada, Judea

  74 A.D.

  Screams shredded the warm evening of the Judean Desert. “Run!”

  A massive force threw the girl to the ground just as a colossal rock crashed mere feet from where she’d stood a second ago. Reverberations shook the earth. The nearby walls crashed into a pile of rubble and dust swirled into the air and mingled with smoke. The girl wheezed in pain; the small wooden box she was carrying had jammed into her ribs.

  Before she could catch her breath, she was hauled to her feet. Two hands grabbed her face and she found herself looking into a pair of turquoise eyes identical to her own under a carpet of honey-colored curls.

  “Carmel!” The boy, only a few years older than herself, frantically examined her face. “Carmel, are you alright? Talk to me, sister!”

  The girl gently removed his hands and picked up the box, then squared her shoulders. “I’m fine, Ezra.” As she adjusted the shawl over her head, she sized up the giant rock in its shallow crater. It was one of a few that had breached the fortress walls on top of the plateau that rose a thousand feet above the desert floor. The Romans’ main objective appeared to be to penetrate the Jewish stronghold’s western gate, but often their ballistae would land a boulder inside the walls.

  “We are not going to last much longer here, are we?” Carmel asked.

  “I do not think so.” Ezra jumped out of the path of two women, both carrying small children, who pelted away from the mounting conflict. He watched them for a few moments, then turned back to his sister. “We must find a way to leave before—Carmel! What are you doing?”

  With the brass-clad wooden case tucked protectively under one arm, the girl had taken off toward the western wall of Masada that loomed hundreds of feet above its surroundings. The Romans were battering it with a ram. Torches and flaming arrows had set ablaze the rebels’ hastily-made wooden barrier behind the outer stone fortification. Despite loathing them, Carmel grudgingly admired the legion’s tenacity and engineering prowess.

  Access to the mountaintop fortress high above the desert floor was limited to a narrow, zigzagging pathway. The Romans’ solution had been to construct a circumvallating wall to seal Masada in before beginning work on a massive ramp nearly four-hundred feet tall at the western side that would hold their siege tower and battering ram. Using Jewish slaves and Roman masons, they’d completed the construction of the ramp in the span of three months. The men and women holed up in Masada had been powerless to do anything but watch helplessly in growing horror as the legionaries laboriously pushed their siege tower up the long ramp.

  Carmel hopped up to the wall to join the onlookers as they threw stones at the besiegers, who in turn fired arrows. There wasn’t much those in the stronghold could do to defend themselves from the onslaught, but there was a lot of yelling from both parties; the Jews hurled insults at the legion, and she heard the Romans respond in kind.

  The setting sun behind the monstrous siege tower cast a bloody hue on the legionaries’ burnished armor and bright red cloaks. She watched as soldiers under the tower used ropes and chains to swing the large battering ram back and forth, smashing the wall. There was fervor in their motions and rage in their voices, accompanied by a bloodlusting gleam in their eyes.

  Carmel shuddered, then hastily ducked to avoid a volley of arrows. Cautiously, she peered over the wall again, her gaze raking over the archers providing covering fire for the soldiers working the wooden ram. Why can’t they just leave us all be? she screamed silently, hugging the box to her chest. The bravado she carried when away from the action had dissipated. She felt small now, as she always did whenever she peeked over the barrier. The nine-hundred-and-sixty Jews trapped in Masada were outnumbered ten to one by the Romans.

  As she dodged the projectiles that zipped overhead, she spied a peculiar sight. Amongst the horde of uniformed monsters, a young soldier stood still, staring blankly up at the line of Jews behind the wall. His bow was drawn but he never once fired his weapon.

  Their eyes locked, and for a brief moment the two were frozen in time. He looked as one dead to the world but when their gazes met, emotion flitted across his handsome face—was it pain? Guilt?

  Captivated, Carmel didn’t register that another hail of arrows had been released until they were already rocketing toward her. She watched, rooted to her spot, a gasp caught in
her throat.

  The next thing she knew, she was flung flat on her back behind the wall; the volley whistled harmlessly overhead. Ezra looked down at her, face flushed, a vein throbbing at his temple. “You almost got yourself killed!” he hissed. “You are just too daft, you know that? Where would you be if I weren’t around?”

  She smiled weakly up at him. “Probably not lying on the dirt as often.”

  Ezra grabbed the box from her and inspected it for damage. “Next time you want to run off toward danger, at least leave this with me. We cannot afford to let it fall into Roman possession. Or anyone’s, really.”

  “They would have no clue how to use it even if they did possess it.”

  “Does it matter? It should not be out of our hands. You and I are the only ones left entrusted to take care of it.”

  The wall beside them shuddered as the battering ram pounded against it again. A few stones broke loose and dropped to the ground. With his free hand, Ezra gripped his sister’s arm and pulled her away. Before they got too far, a deep bellow stopped them in their tracks. They turned around to see a striking, muscular black-haired man thrust his dagger into the air from where he stood atop the stone wall.

  “They will soon break through!” he warned the multitude of people before him. “Now listen, all of you! Listen to me!” He jumped down into the throng, who watched him with wide eyes and attentive ears.

  Ezra’s jaw tightened. “What does he want now?”

  “We should find out.” Carmel made her way over to the group. Her brother was far from a loyal supporter of the man who stood before them—with reason, she supposed. But in a time of conflict, they needed to band together and he was the best they had, a resilient leader.

  “They will break through the wall by the first light of morning!” The black-haired commander surveyed the hundreds of men, women and children looking to him. “We will not make it through. We have known that since the beginning. They cut off our routes of escape, and though we may have food and water, our end is nearing. Since we long ago resolved never to be servants to the Romans, nor to any other than to God Himself—Who alone is the true and just Lord of mankind—the time is now come that obliges us to make that resolution true in practice… We were the very first that revolted, and we are the last to fight against them; and I cannot but esteem it as a favor that God has granted us, that it is still in our power to die bravely, and in a state of freedom.” His voice shook slightly. “We will draw lots. Ten of us will have the consecrated duty to ensure that we end our time on Earth as free men and women. Our wives will not be taken as spoils of war, our children will not be slaves. We cannot allow that.”

  Bowing her head, Carmel swallowed, her shoulders trembling. He was right; they’d all known they were good as gone from the very start. They’d held out on hope alone that they’d make it through.

  No, not hope. Denial.

  “We are leaving,” Ezra whispered fiercely into her ear as the man continued his speech, flaming arrows soaring overhead and landing around them, creating pockets of fire.

  Before Carmel could register his words, he was already dragging her away. “Ezra!” she cried. “What are you doing?”

  “I will not kill myself, nor will I let that happen to you.” His tone was firm; befitting the twenty-year-old he was. “Whatever happens, this must be protected.” He let go of her and held up the wooden box. Carved into the cover was an intricate pattern laced with gold thread plaited into a clover-leaf design.

  Carmel stared at it for the longest time before steel infused her spine. She nodded. “Shall we find a place to hold out, then?”

  “Nowhere within the fortress,” he said immediately. “We will have to climb down and find a cave in the mountainside.”

  She let out a long breath. They would have raced down the mountain, but they would never get past the circumvallating wall. Soldiers in the watchtowers would surely pick them off with their arrows if they tried to climb over. And if by some miracle, they did scale the wall safely, the legion’s eight camps around the base of the fortress left no path to freedom save an arrow to the head or a sword through the chest.

  Taking one last look at the hundreds of people they had lived with for the past few years, Carmel skulked away with a heavy heart, following her brother. He led her around the enormous and once-lavish palace by the western gate. She skimmed her hand over the stones of the building as she moved past, remembering stories some of the women had shared with her about Masada. Decades ago, King Herod, known for his paranoia, was the man responsible for turning the mountaintop plateau into what it was now, with its extravagant palaces, swimming pools, bathhouses, storehouses, a synagogue, and more.

  He made history in his own way here, she thought. What of us? Will we all perish as stories, or simply perish?

  The sun had set. In its stead an army of stars glittered luminously as if following the lead of the moon. They shone down upon dwellings that were both standing and torn, and those that had been stripped of their roofs. Carmel’s heart grew even heavier; this was as close to home as they’d ever had since the siblings were orphaned some years ago. She was not ready to leave it behind, but she had an obligation and it rested within the box her brother carried.

  Carmel and Ezra traversed toward the fort that perched on the southern edge of the city, weaving between residences, cisterns, and a columbarium tower. Walking ahead of his sister, Ezra kicked irritating loose rocks from his leather sandals and cursed under his breath at the atrocity that was about to happen to the people they’d left behind.

  As they approached the fort, a surprising sight met them. A group of over twenty people were preparing to scale down the side of the mountain and eyed the newcomers warily. Most were young men and women in long-sleeved garments, and a few were small children. A couple of tense moments passed between the siblings and the group before understanding dawned in either party. One of the men dipped his head at the pair before disappearing over the edge of the cliff.

  Ezra brought his mouth close to Carmel’s ear. “They must be taking refuge in the caves below, too.”

  She tightened her shawl. “If this many of us have thought of the caves, surely the Romans will think to look there as well?”

  “Perhaps not. And if they do, there are many openings in the mountainside, and some are better hidden than others. In either case, it’s the best option we have.”

  She gritted her teeth, bracing herself. “Lead on, then.”

  They were the last ones to scale down; the others had already disappeared into openings in the declivity. Thank the heavens above we grew up with this kind of terrain, Carmel mused. Bless that old, beautiful tribe.

  Ezra’s voice reached her from below. “In here!”

  Gripping the rock face, she glanced down. Her brother’s head jutted out of a cave. He held a hand out to her and helped her in. She landed roughly on her hands and knees, grimacing. “Ouch!”

  “I’m sorry.” Ezra gently stroked her hair. “But look, Carmel. Safety.”

  She squinted into the darkness. As her eyes adjusted, she made out seven huddling shapes—three men, two women and two children. Acknowledging them with a nod that she wasn’t sure they could even see, she moved to the farthest side of the small cave. Ezra joined her, holding the box tightly. She rested her head on his shoulder and stared out of the opening to the neighboring mountain.

  Nothing we can do now but wait. She shut her eyes tightly. God help us.

  Carmel was roused by the sound of bloodcurdling cries. Her eyes flew open. She found her brother’s hand covering her mouth. He looked at her, a finger to his lips, and shook his head. She nodded and he removed his hand. The screams were coming from near their hideout.

  Oh, no. Oh, please, no. She pushed herself closer to Ezra, her breaths coming out short and ragged. They must have found the others.

  He put one arm around her and squeezed her tightly. The group watched the opening of the cave fixedly. The women hugged the young ones
, tears trickling down their cheeks.

  The last cry was abruptly cut off. Carmel buried her face into her brother’s chest, feeling his arm tighten further around her.

  A sudden scream sounded just above them. One of the children let out a pitched yelp before being hurriedly silenced by the terrified woman holding him.

  Ezra withdrew from his sister and took her in his hand. “This is not looking good for us.” He rested his forehead against hers. “We need to hide the box. Do you understand me? We need to bury it and let the Elders know of its location.”

  Terrified, Carmel whispered, “We will die here, won’t we?”

  She searched his face, waiting for him to contradict her, give her some false hope. Instead, she saw his eyes brimming with tears as he offered a faint, sad smile and kissed her forehead. “I love you,” he murmured.

  With wet cheeks and quivering fingers, she clawed at the ground. The screams continued. She tried to shut her ears to it to no avail. Her chest heaved as she dug. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her brother go still for a few moments, as if in meditation, before snapping back to reality. “Done,” he whispered. “The Elders will know where to find it one day.”

  Eerie silence had replaced the chaos above. Then, a small rock bounced past the cave’s opening. They could hear it hitting bigger rocks on its way down the mountainside. The group held its breath.

  The clinking of metal against metal broke the siblings from their daze. Ezra shoved the box into the hole in the ground just as the women beside them screamed. Carmel looked over her shoulder.

  Two legionaries, their bloodstained swords drawn, stood at the opening, eyeing the prey before them. The first one leapt forward and ran his weapon through the nearest victim, ending her cry. The second impaled one of the men. Carmel covered her mouth to stop herself from screaming.

  “Help me cover it!” Ezra shouted over the ear-splitting shrieks. She turned to him but froze when she saw a third Roman soldier standing at the mouth of the cave. It was the young man—the one who didn’t seem to belong with the legion. Just as he had then drawn his bow but hadn’t release an arrow, he now had his sword in hand but didn’t move forward. He watched the slaughter, eyes glazed.

 

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