The Starborn Ascension: Books 1, 2, and 3 (The Starborn Saga)

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The Starborn Ascension: Books 1, 2, and 3 (The Starborn Saga) Page 3

by Jason D. Morrow


  “It’s a simple question that requires a simple answer,” he said. “Do you have special abilities? Powers? Supernatural?”

  Asking me this question couldn’t have been a coincidence. My special ability, as he called it, is something only I know about. I could hear things that no one else in the world could. Someone could be talking on the other side of town, and with determined focus, I would be able to hear every word. It’s not something I was born with, but it started about a year ago. Did Paxton have some way to detect it in me or something?

  “Of course not,” I lied. And to try and add authenticity to the lie, I added, “What in the world kind of question is that?”

  I wasn’t sure he was convinced that I was telling the truth, but I sat and stared at him with my mouth hanging open like I was an idiot. His eyes studied me for a few more moments, but then he dropped his hands and sat up straight.

  “I’m going to let you in,” he said. “We have a room available for you and plenty of work we could use you for.” He stood from his seat and I did the same. He towered over me, but I wasn’t intimidated. Just thankful. He reached out his large right hand and nearly covered mine as we shook.

  “Thank you so much,” I said.

  “Don’t make me regret letting you stay here,” he said.

  “Oh, I won’t,” I said. I felt like a beggar then, but thinking back on it now, I suppose that is what I was. “In fact, I will make you wish you had more people like me.” It sounded stupid when the words came out, but he nodded and smiled at me anyway.

  I never got my weapons back, but Gabe told me that if I were ever to leave Crestwood for any reason, all my possessions would be returned to me. All my possessions. A gun, a knife, and a folded up, torn page from an atlas. Though I felt naked without those things during my first days in Crestwood, I quickly got used to it.

  The idea of Gabe walking next to me as a friend is baffling when I think back on that day. He had initially scared me and made me think I might not be allowed to stay, but ever since I joined the town he has been a saint.

  “You still liking it here?” he asks me as I near my apartment building.

  I stop for a second to think about his question, and then I look out into the street. There are buildings all around us, each of them serving a purpose. There are people walking the streets without guns, without fear that a greyskin or a raider will come in and kill them. The walls can be seen from just about any part of the town, and on top of them walk competent sharp-shooters. But even more than those things, there are small gardens lining the sidewalks with fall flowers. There is a large community garden that the townspeople share in the spring and summer. And there are children, laughing and playing. Before the outbreak, I never even liked kids, but now I understand their innocence. I look back at Gabe’s eyes and nod. “For the first time in a long time, I feel like I belong to something.”

  He nods at me, but he almost seems disappointed by my answer.

  “Why?” I ask. “You aren’t?”

  He shrugs. “I’ve been in Crestwood since Paxton organized the town and I’ve sat through a lot of the elders’ meetings. Things just seem to be getting weird.”

  “In what way?” I lean against the building and he comes in closer and lowers his voice, not knowing I would be able to hear him even if he were on the other side of Crestwood.

  “How long have you been here now?” he asks.

  “About three months. A little bit more.”

  He shakes his head and snickers. “You must have a spell over me. I can get in a lot of trouble talking to you about this kind of stuff.”

  I feel my forehead creasing. “What kind of stuff?”

  “I don’t know…they are just acting weird. They asked me to sit in on one of their meetings the other day so I could give a report of the soldiers and all.” He turns his head to look behind him to make sure no one else is listening. “One of the elders, Lillian, started to say something about a person called Shadowface.”

  “Shadowface?”

  “Yeah,” he says. “Paxton hushed her real quick and reminded her that I was in the room.”

  “But that’s all you heard?” I ask.

  “Sort of. I mean the way she said it was weird. Paxton had asked me about weapon supplies and when I told them we were running a little low on ammunition, Lillian told Paxton to put in a request with Shadowface. Things got real awkward, real quick.”

  “What do you think it means?”

  “I couldn’t tell you,” he shrugs. “I guess if I’m not supposed to know, I’m not supposed to know.”

  “I could find out,” I say, pulling myself from the side of the building and walking a bit closer to the street. My eyes squint a little and my mouth curls into a grin. I’m back to the flirtation that I hate so much, but Gabe smiles back at me.

  “How? What do you mean?” he says with a nervous laugh.

  “Clearly I’ve been out on the road much longer than you have,” I say. I step up onto one of the raised flowerbeds next to the street, balancing myself on the narrow strip of wood. At this height, I’m only barely taller than Gabe.

  “I’m lead scout,” he says. “My job is being out on the road.”

  “Yeah, but you haven’t had to sleep out there much, have you?”

  His silence answers my question.

  “Your job is to lead the soldiers, and make sure we are all safe, and that herds aren’t moving too close to the town, right? But you’re always given the right equipment: a clean gun, food to eat, a vehicle.”

  He starts to clench his jaw and I know I’ve hit a nerve. “Are you going to make your point soon?”

  I reach the end of the raised flowerbed, spin on my toes, and begin walking the way I had come. “My point is that I’ve had a lot of practice breaking into places. That includes breaking open doors, picking locks, sneaking through rooms, all while being as quiet as a mouse.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “I can find out who this Shadowface is for you,” I say. “I don’t even need you to help me.”

  He squints his eyes at me and shakes his head. “Remi, I was just confiding in a friend. I’m not trying to get you to find anything out for me.”

  I jump from the flowerbed and land inches from Gabe. “How old are you?” I ask.

  “Twenty-five, you know that already.”

  “Be a man!” I nearly yell. One or two heads in the distance turn to look in our direction, but no one stays interested for very long. Gabe is stone faced as I stare into him. “As lead scout it’s important to know who you’re working for,” I say, whispering now. “If Paxton and the elders are answering to someone else, don’t you think you should know about it?”

  His silence is my answer.

  “I’m just letting you know that I’m willing to go in and find out for you.”

  “Why?” he asks. “What’s in it for you?”

  “You’ll let me be a soldier,” I say. “You could use a person like me. I bet I can shoot better than any person here.” I take one step closer to him, my face only inches from his. I can feel his nervousness, or perhaps it’s my own heartbeat pounding away. “Including you.”

  I turn sharply and walk to the entrance of my apartment building, placing my hand on the door handle. Before I open it, I look back at him.

  “If you’re caught, you could get into serious trouble,” he says. “I could get into serious trouble.”

  “I’m not a rat,” I say. “If I get caught, I will deal with the consequences myself. Do you want me to find out more or not?”

  He looks from side-to-side before finally placing his eyes on me. He nods. “Paxton keeps a journal in a desk on the second floor of the headquarters building. I’m pretty sure he keeps record of everything in it. You find out who this guy is, and I’ll give you a shot.”

  “Good,” I say, opening the door. “I’m tired of babysitting kids at the town nursery. I swear you people are so sexist.”

  Gabe grins at me
and turns to walk away while I go into the apartment building. I let out a sigh as I think about my luck to have been given an apartment on the top floor. The several climbs up and down per day weren’t annoying at all. I shake my head once I reach the fifth floor. I bet they only give new citizens the top floor apartments to test their perseverance. When I had first walked into this building I had been happy to see an elevator, but my brief lapse of thought caused me to forget that it probably hadn’t been working for the past three years since the outbreak. When groups of people started banding together in towns, they began to strictly conserve energy. It costs a lot more to run electricity now—not money, but fuel. Finding a place with electricity is golden. It might only mean a lamp in your room, but never something so luxurious as an elevator.

  Crestwood may be nice by standards of living in this greyskin-infested world, but it obviously had its problems in the early days. The stairs are dirty, splattered with sticky remains of who-knows what. Even when I walk into my apartment, I can’t help but notice the scratches and dried, dark stains on the walls and floors that someone had obviously failed to remove prior to my coming. I can only imagine what might have happened here. Nothing I haven’t seen before, I’m sure. And I have stayed in worse places. At least this studio apartment has a bed and couch, running water, and a place to sit and eat. The living space is tiny, but it is perfect for me.

  I walk into the bathroom and turn on the faucet. The mirror in front of me is foggy and crusted with grime. I look healthier than I have in a long time. My eyes are regaining a little bit of their brightness again, and I’m not as skinny as I was. This would have been of some concern about three years ago, but I’m just happy to eat now. I splash some water on my face and turn off the faucet.

  I walk out of the bathroom and into the living area to the only window in the room. One advantage to living on the fifth floor is getting a good view of the town. I bet I can see further over the wall from here than any of the soldiers who patrol it.

  I think about what I proposed to Gabe. I know he wasn’t asking me to do anything for him. I’m sure what I said took him off guard, but three years on the road have given me an itch that I can’t get rid of just yet. I’ve only been here for three months and the thought of walking anywhere without my gun and knife makes me feel exposed and defenseless. I suppose that’s the main reason I want to be a soldier. I don’t care about scouting beyond the wall. I don’t even care about standing at the wall, waiting for something to show up. I just want my weapons back. In this world, when someone strips you of your weapons, he strips you of all you have.

  I look down at the wall and see Gabe talking to one of his soldiers. To this day, I still can’t figure why Paxton had asked me about special abilities. How could he have known that for the past year I’ve been able to hear things better than any other person? I know exactly when it happened, but I don’t know why. All I know is that it has stayed with me since.

  I stare down at Gabe and turn my head slightly. His voice enters my head almost as if I’m standing right next to him.

  “That’s what I was thinking,” he says. “Just make sure you let me know if it comes down to that, okay?”

  “Okay,” the soldier on the wall says to him.

  I turn my head away, and I can hear him no longer. I have no idea what he was talking about, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t plan to tell him why I know I won’t be caught. I can hear someone coming long before they get to me. If I wanted, I would be able to hear the conversation of anyone in the town so long as I knew where to listen. I won’t get caught snooping through the elder’s secret documents because when I sneak into Headquarters and steal the journal, I will be able to hear every snore, every sleep-talker, every person that gets up to pee. And if anyone hears me, I’ll be gone before they even take a step.

  Chapter 3 - Waverly

  It is well past midnight before Gilbert turns the SUV down a side road to make camp for the night. Ethan questions his decision, but Gilbert tells us that we will run out of gas in the next 100 miles or so and we need to figure out the best place to find fuel so we can actually get to the town of Crestwood .

  The road winds through a forest and he eventually stops when he sees a small clearing surrounded by large trees. I open the door and step out onto the grass as the frigid wind nearly knocks the breath out of me.

  “It’s going to be cold tonight,” Ethan says to no one in particular. “The nights are getting colder the farther north we travel. We might want to sleep in the car.”

  “You can sleep in there all you want,” Gilbert says, “but you can’t have the heat on. Uses too much gas. Besides, the back window is shot out. I say we build a fire.”

  “So raiders and greyskins can see us for miles?" Ethan says.

  Gilbert holds out his hands and turns. “Why do you think I drove us back here? No one is going to see a fire out here. We’ve driven long enough to know the raiders didn’t follow us, and we’ll take turns staying up to watch for greyskins.”

  Ethan doesn’t respond, but I care nothing about raiders or the greyskins. All I care about is getting warm.

  “Fire sounds good to me,” I say quietly.

  “You see?” Gilbert says. “She agrees with me.”

  I don’t know how I feel about Gilbert being happy that I agree with him, but I don’t even acknowledge his words.

  “You guys want to see what’s in the back of the SUV?” Gilbert asks.

  Neither Ethan nor I answer him, but we gather around. He opens a satchel he found in the front seat and pulls out a flashlight as the hatchback of the SUV opens. He flips up a small compartment and what we see makes Ethan light up. Gilbert reaches down and pulls out a shiny rifle that looks as if it has never been fired. This hidden compartment is full of guns and ammunition. No doubt it will help the group and all, but I don’t want any part of it. We aren’t used to carrying weapons like these. At least I’m not.

  Lucas and I had always avoided using guns. Firing one only drew in more greyskins. Sure, they were good for blowing away a few at a time, but the sound carries so far, there is no way a greyskin wouldn’t hear it and come running.

  When Gilbert is done gawking at the firearms, we finally start gathering wood for the fire and within an hour, the front of me toasts warmly while my back is nearly frozen.

  The three of us sit in silence as the fire eats away at the wood, falling into smoldering coals that give off a heat warm enough to make my brow sweat. The moon illuminates the cold fog that lingers throughout the trees in the forest and the flickering flames cast our shadowed forms along the trunks. I try not to look into the trees at all. Despite the security they bring, shielding us from curious eyes, I hate how little I can see into the distance. I hate the trees because I never know what might be lurking behind them. That’s why I keep my eyes on the fire.

  As we sit, all I can think about is Lucas. It pains me to know it, but I doubt there is anything left of him now. The greyskins devour every bit of a fresh body. I often wonder how there can be so many greyskins in the world when they eat so many of their victims. I suppose there are many people that escape the fate of being completely eaten, only to be scratched or bitten, the poisonous saliva or blood mixing with theirs.

  How could all of this have happened? How could humanity be reduced to an existence of mere survival within a span of three years? How had this disease spread so rapidly?

  I have feared the greyskins more than anything. And even after our run-in with Scarecrow and his men, I still fear the greyskins more. There is just something disturbing about a creature that used to be a person like me but is now walking about mindlessly. Any time I see greyskins, I know that they were once average people like me who were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. They had been scratched or bitten. Then, within twenty-four hours, they were dead, only to wake back up, their skin an ashy, grey color, their eyes almost black and dripping with mucus. And over time their skin just rotted, but their body kept moving,
motivated only by the desire to eat human flesh, to taste blood. It has been a never-ending nightmare for the past three years.

  I look up from the fire and my eyes fall on the other two. Gilbert sits and studies his new weapons from the SUV, and Ethan…he seems different than Gilbert. I guess we are all different, but for him, it’s something I can’t place. He doesn’t carry any of the guns from the SUV. Instead he has a baseball bat that was probably once a light-colored wood but is now stained brown and black from so many greyskin head-bashings.

  Lucas and I had only been with these two for a couple of days, but from what I understand, they have not known each other for very long at all. I suppose that is why the silence persists. Neither of them really knows the other that well.

  Ethan stokes the fire with a long stick, maneuvering branches so the flames burn brighter and hotter. I watch him as he swallows, and moves his mouth like he wants to say something. He clears his throat and looks at me. I dart my eyes away, but they find Ethan’s again. He smiles at me for a second before setting his stick down and standing.

  “I uh…I think we ought to recognize Lucas’ bravery tonight,” he says, his eyes lowering to meet mine again. “I didn’t know him very well, but he did a good thing today.”

  “That’s debatable,” Gilbert says out of the side of his mouth.

  I can feel myself scowl, but I don’t look at him. Instead, I stare directly into the flames as tears come to my eyes. I reach for the chain around my neck and pull out the small diamond ring. My finger rubs at the precious stone and tears start to form in my eyes.

  “Be respectful,” Ethan chides Gilbert. “None of us could have known what was going to happen. If the raiders hadn’t shot, the greyskins might not have come. The raiders might have killed all of us.” He takes a deep breath and bends down to pick his stick back up. He pushes a few of the coals around, trying to rouse the heat as he sits back down.

  “We’ve all lost someone,” I say. I don’t expect my voice to sound so thick, but I know they notice.

 

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