by Edward Brody
He thought of Walt and Carl and Candy and wondered how much trouble he would be setting himself up for by returning to The Crawlspace. He wasn’t particularly interested in the whole rebellion thing, but he did want to get some more time with the rebel girl. He considered how soon he could logically go back without drawing too much attention to himself.
And then he remembered Lena… elegant, voluptuous, Lena. Tristyn and Lena seemed like total opposites. Lena was gorgeous and was the first alien who treated him as more than a 2nd-class human. But Tristyn’s strength and desire to protect humanity added to her attractiveness. He wondered what both of them were doing right now, and soon found himself drifting into a peaceful dream filled with images of the two lovely women.
He breathed silently, completely unaware of the eyes staring at him from across the room.
Chapter Thirteen
A strong, gloved hand covered Mich’s mouth, causing to him to wake and reflexively try to get away. A knee was also placed on his hip, holding down his lower body and making it impossible for Mich to move.
“Shhhh,” the man whispered quietly as he placed a finger up to where his mouth should be. He was wearing a black robe and a completely white circular mask with a small hole in the area where his right eye should be.
Mich continued to struggle, but slowly stopped moving when he realized the man was far stronger than him, and there was little chance of him getting away. Mich’s eyes stung from the sudden disruption of sleep, but he held them open wide, and he could hear his heart pounding out of his chest.
The man pulled a small knife from his hip and held it up to Mich’s face. “If you scream, you die. If you fight, you die,” the man hissed. “Do you want to die tonight or do you want to live?”
Mich felt like any moment he would lose control of his bladder.
The man took his knee off of Mich’s body and slowly removed his hand from Mich’s mouth, testing his compliance. When Mich lay silent, he pulled him up and threw his arm around his neck and placed the knife beside his cheek.
“Follow and do not speak a word.”
The masked man led Mich out of the room and up the elevator to the roof of the building. When they reached the roof, a small flying vehicle with a clear open hatch was waiting. The man walked Mich to the passenger side and pushed him inside.
As the masked man was getting inside the driver’s seat, the door to the roof of the building swung open. A large, golden haired man with a huge copper sword stepped through the door and immediately started running toward the craft yelling, “Take the human out of the speeder now!”
Tamor.
The masked man briefly froze in surprise at the sight of the Keeper, but regained his bearings and quickly closed the roof of his craft. The thrusters in the 2-seated speeder fired up, and it turned towards the edge of the building. As the vehicle was pulling away, Tamor made a huge leap and grabbed on to speeder’s edge.
The vehicle quickly started sliding down the side of the building, and Tamor held on for his life. As the vehicle neared the ground, it veered upright and accelerated through the streets. While Tamor gripped tighter, the masked man increased the thrusters to full speed and quickly turned a corner, throwing him from the craft.
Tamor landed in a kneeling position on the street and slid a few feet, tearing up a portion of the asphalt. As he stood up, a blue light could be seen radiating from the points of impact of on his body, and no sooner, the light dissipated.
A guard riding a motorcycle-styled speeder sped towards Tamor, and he stood directly in front of it holding up his palm. As the speeder slowed, Tamor hopped on the back and said, “By order of the Queen,” and pushed the guard off with force. He immediately accelerated and gave chase to the masked man, leaving the guard dazed and confused.
“Where are you taking me?” Mich asked his captor. He was beginning to loathe his new life more and more.
The masked man did not reply.
It wasn’t long before Tamor could be seen behind them, and he was gaining on them by the second. The masked man cursed and slammed his hand against the control panel, shifting to a direction opposite of the ports.
Tamor did not let up. They exited the developed areas and entered into a lush forest, dipping and weaving through trees. Vines whipped apart and small branches were knocked down as the two crafts passed by. This proved to be advantageous to Tamor and his smaller craft, as he was soon right on their tail.
As the chase continued, they eventually reached a large clearing and a huge river could be seen in the distance. Tamor maxed his thrusters and slammed his speeder into the side of the masked man’s. The contact sent both speeders twirling, but did not knock either down.
When Tamor tried slamming against the speeder again, Mich saw an opportunity and grabbed the steering stick while the man was trying to regain control. This sent the fleeing craft crashing to the ground, bouncing, and landing a few meters from the edge of a steep cliff.
Tamor quickly landed right behind them and started marching towards the wreck.
The masked man opened the roof of the battered craft and jumped out agilely, leaving the disoriented and groaning Mich behind. From under his robe, he pulled two small copper swords, wielding one in each hand.
The river behind them, below the cliff, was raging white, and a few hundred meters downstream a waterfall could be seen, providing a roaring soundtrack to the scene.
“Lay down your weapons,” Tamor ordered and lifted the giant sword off from his back. “I’m not in the mood for killing anyone today.”
The man ignored the command and started charging for Tamor.
Tamor swung his sword at the man, and he dodged the sword effortlessly while lunging for Tamor’s stomach. Tamor back-stepped, barely missing a fatal blow. The man twirled and attacked furiously, copper ringing against copper as Tamor blocked each attack with his sword. As the man flung his blades towards Tamor’s head, Tamor lifted his knee, causing the man to keel over, and delivered a backhand fist to the side of the man’s face, knocking his mask off, and causing him to turn and fall to his knees.
“That’s enough!” Tamor growled.
Mich had since came to his senses and pulled himself from the crashed vehicle, walking to the edge of the cliff in an attempt to put as much distance between him and the fight as possible. He watched the scene in awe.
“Why do you want this human?” Tamor asked.
The robed man breathed heavily. “This man bears the disease of the humans’ past. He cannot be allowed to spread the ideas that could destroy us all.”
The feint sound of an electrical charge could be heard, and tiny bolts of energy starting to sparkle around the man’s hands and swords.
“You’re a Keeper?” Tamor asked with a bit of anxiousness in his voice. He stepped backwards, holding his weapon to the side, and energy began circling his sword as well.
The unmasked man turned, moving at an impossible speed, and Tamor raised his weapon to block his crossed swords at the last possible moment. They held their crackling blades together momentarily, and the unmasked man’s milky white eye was a mere inch from Tamor’s face. He recognized him as one of Kryle Yago’s henchmen.
“Yes, I am, Tamor.” The man smiled. “And as Keepers, it is our duty to protect the galaxy from dire threats.”
Tamor heaved the man away from him, and immediately the man pushed forward again, striking furiously as Tamor blocked and ducked his blows.
Tamor growled, “You betray the Council!”
“The Council betrays the galaxy!” the krawl hissed.
Tamor heaved his sword with a thunderous force, and the man reared his head back, dodging the weight of the swing. The man lifted his leg in the same motion and connected Tamor’s face with a powerful roundhouse. He reached out with one of his blades, slashing Tamor’s chest and then extended his foot straight into Tamor’s gut, sending him staggering several steps backward.
Tamor kneeled, coughing and spitting blood on the
ground. His sword fell beside him and the energy that encompassed the blade had gone. Blood seeped out of the slash that had ripped through his chest armor.
The krawl paced slowly towards Tamor and spoke with malice in his voice. “Join us, and help us destroy Rashada. Help us eliminate the humans and remove a threat of another Cleanse.”
Tamor chuckled and spit more blood to the ground. “I hate humans.” He paused. “But I hate traitors even more!”
The robed man hissed, pushing his sword forward, aiming at Tamor’s neck, but Tamor quickly raised his hand and grabbed the man’s wrist as easily as if he had been catching a ball. Tamor’s hand glowed with a bluish hue, and he smiled while he slowly stood up, squeezing the wrist tighter and tighter. The dragon tattoo on his face began pulsing with a glowing energy.
The krawl cried out in agony as he heard the sound of his wrist bone being crushed, and one of the crackling swords in his hands fell to the ground.
Tamor swiftly lifted the front of his leg into the krawl’s stomach, the power sending him flying several meters closer to the river.
The krawl slowly struggled to get up from the grass and moaned various sounds at the pain in his wrist. As Tamor moved closer, the krawl questioned, “You will risk the galaxy for a wretched human?”
The krawl snarled his nose, clenched his teeth and spun quickly, releasing his remaining blade in the direction of the river.
The sword flew swiftly and accurately through the air, leaving Mich no time to respond as the blade pierced deep into his abdomen. He placed his hands around the protruding hilt, and looked up at the two Keepers with his eyes and mouth opened wide. He slowly tilted backwards like an old tree collapsing under its own weight, and fell with a confirming splash down the cliff and into the raging waters below.
The krawl began a futile half-limp and half-crawl in an attempt to flee, but Tamor simply marched over to the slow target and drove his massive sword through his back. He yanked out his bloodied sword and the krawl fell flat to the ground.
Tamor turned to the direction of the waterfall and thought deeply about his failed mission and his friend Kryle Yago. The Queen would be disappointed in his inability to protect the human, but it would be overshadowed by Kryle’s betrayal.
After a few moments, he could once again hear the robed figure stirring and attempting to rise to his feet. Tamor let out a big sigh and swung his sword in a circle, landing perfectly against the krawl’s neck. The severed head fell lifelessly to the ground and rolled several feet away.
He didn’t get back up and second time.
Chapter Fourteen
Mich walked through the door and placed his tennis shoes on the door mat. He could hear the sound of knocking on the wall and the sound of a woman’s quick repeated moans in the background. He attempted to ignore the sounds, and simply walked through the slim halls back to his room.
He closed the door, threw his backpack on the bed and wondered what he should do. His room in the small trailer consisted of a twin sized bed, a television without cable, and a closet with a box filled with random inanimate objects that he had collected during his short life. He would love to go outside and play with his friends, but he wasn’t allowed to leave the grassed area around the trailer unless going to school, and his friends weren’t allowed near his home.
He unzipped his backpack and pulled out a small book he had rented from the school library. At least he was able to read, he thought. The book was about a young boy who had magical abilities and had to save the world from an evil power. When he read the book, he felt like he was whisked away to another world.
“Mich!” a voice cried out. “Mich, C’mere!”
He sat the book down and and made his way to the desolate kitchen.
“Mich, there’s someone I want you to meet.” His mom smiled.
His mom was a slim lady with bleach blonde hair and green eyes. Beside her stood a man with brown, semi-curled hair combed into a poof at the front in a similar style to Elvis Presley. The man was wearing a T-shirt with the arms cut off and was leaning forward against a chair, chewing gum with a dubious grin.
“This is Tony. He’s a friend of mom’s,” his mom said, referring to herself in third person.
“Hi,” Mich said.
“How’s it going, little man?” The man said as he walked over towards Mich.
“Good,” Mich replied and smiled.
He was young, but he knew that “friend” to his mom meant a “guy who I can shack up with and get money from.”
“Nice to meet you. How old are you?” the man asked.
“I’m 11,” Mich said proudly.
Mich found the situation awkward and wasn’t sure what to say to the man. Where did his mom meet this guy? All he really wanted to do was go back to his room so he could continue with his book. He turned to his mom and asked, “Can I go now?”
His mom glared disappointedly at Mich. “Yeah, you can go…”
As Mich started his way back to his room, the new man in the trailer called out, “Hey, maybe we can go play ball next time.”
“Okay,” Mich replied with little interest.
* * *
Mich sat in the tattered car, quietly wondering where he was heading next. He wanted to cry, but he knew that tears wouldn’t help. He had lost everything that he knew. His few friends, his hometown, and even the random inanimate objects that he collected in the box over the years. His mom had told him there wasn’t enough room in the car.
The man with the poofy hair drove arrogantly with his seat pushed far back, and both the man and his mom were singing, snapping their fingers, and dancing to an insufferable song that they had playing on the radio. His mom seemed excited and completely unconcerned by Mich’s complete state of distress.
He closed his eyes and laid his head on the armrest, imagining he was the boy in that book that he no longer had.
* * *
As Mich looked out the boxy window, he saw large houses nestled in trees with beautifully landscaped yards. He wondered what it was like to live inside them. He imagined that there were families inside, sitting around a large kitchen table, being served muffins and soda by a friendly mom wearing a cute cooking apron.
The school bus pulled up in front of his home, and one of the kids sitting behind him coughed and simultaneously yelled, “Trailer trash!” repeatedly.
The other kids on the bus burst out with laughter. It was hard enough to be the new kid at school, but living in run down trailer located in the middle of nowhere special placed an even greater target on his back.
As Mich stood to exit the bus, he felt a couple balls of paper ricochet off of his back. He simply ignored the assault and slowly walked down the steps and onto the street.
“Pussy won’t even do nothing!” a boy on the bus yelled out the window.
Outside of the grimy trailer was a small blow-up pool, a water hose, and a lawn chair that his mom liked to lie on when the sun was out. The grass was beaten up from the lack of a proper driveway. They simply parked their car anywhere close to the entrance.
Mich wondered if his life would always be like this. Would he never live in a real home? Would he always have no friends and nothing to keep him entertained? He felt powerless, and felt that even if he one day managed to have a wife and a family, this was probably the life that he was always destined to live.
He walked inside the trailer, and his now pregnant mom and the guy with the poofy hair were playing video games on the TV. The television was a large 50” inch screen, and seemed to take up nearly the entire living room of the small trailer. It was a priority purchase for the couple when they moved into the new home. Mich, no longer had his own room, and the living room now doubled as his living quarters.
Mich sat his bag down and made his way to the couch, pulling out a magazine he had managed to score by saving his lunch money for a week. He opened the pages and tried the block out the sound of the video games and the sound of his mom and her bed partner talking to e
ach other.
“Hey Mich, get me a beer,” the man ordered.
“I’ll have one too,” his mom said without turning around.
He sat the magazine down and walked to the kitchen, doing as he was told. He knew that if he questioned anything, there would be hell to pay; he would receive a beating and a long lecture about how kids have to listen to the grown-ups.
He handed his mom and the man a beer each, and before he could sit down, Tony stood up and started doing faux martial arts moves in the air and making Kung-Fu sounds. He picked Mich up and flipped him, dropping him on his back onto his knee gently to not actually cause any pain.
Mich stood up and giggled as he received several light karate chops and phony punches to the neck and stomach.
Tony began walking away, making Mich think that he was finished with the game, but then unleased one final forward heel kick directly onto Mich’s chest while making a loud, comical, Kung Fu noise.
Mich’s small body went flying backwards, and he landed on his back. His eyes were wide with pain as he struggled and grasped for air. He had had been hit harder than expected and had the air knocked out of him. Tears rolled down his face and he gripped his chest tightly.
“Oh c’mon, don’t fake like that,” Tony snorted.
His mom turned around. “What’d you do to him?” she asked.
“We were just play wrestling, and now he’s fakin’ like he’s hurt.”
“You okay, Mich?” his mom probed.
Mich shook his head ‘No’ as he continued to struggle for breath.
“Oh, give me a break. I barely touched him,” Tony said out of the corner of his mouth as he took another swig of his beer.
Mich finally caught his breath and was able to speak. As he breathed deeply, tears were still running down his face. "You’re lying! You kicked me hard, and it hurt! I couldn’t breathe!”