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

by Jason D. Morrow

  Stephen sat back in his chair, studying me. “You make a good point, Bill. I would want to kill whoever did that to her. I would probably tie him down and cut off each of his fingers and toes. I would cut him open and make him bleed for hours. I would rip his scalp, cut out his tongue.” He speaks with such calm ferocity as though he has planned this out long before he met me.

  For the first time, I have no reply.

  “What is your name?” he asks again but with the same calm voice that just described a man’s torture.

  “Remi,” I say.

  “Now that’s more believable. Why do you have a file on Jessi Paxton?”

  “She is someone that I met in college,” I say.

  “Sure, but what good does this file do for you? I highly doubt you would go into a hospital full of greyskins alone because you were hit with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia.”

  “I’m from a place called Crestwood,” I tell him.

  “I’ve heard of Crestwood.”

  “The leader there is Robert Paxton. His daughter’s name is Jessi. He sent me to look for her.” Of course, I purposefully leave out the fact that I was banished from Crestwood and that the only way I could come back is to give him some information about his missing daughter.

  “Alone?”

  I nod. “He hasn’t seen her in four years. I knew she was pregnant because I knew her in college. The hospital was a shot in the dark, but it’s a lead. And apparently you know her.”

  “I’ve never met her,” he says. I don’t expect it, but I feel disappointed that he doesn’t know her. How much more would have Paxton welcomed me if I were to bring him his daughter in the flesh rather than just some paper that said she had a baby?

  “Then why are you so curious about what I’m doing?” I ask.

  Stephen scoots his chair back and stands, walking around the table and behind me. I hear him pull out a knife and I close my eyes. Maybe he is psycho enough to do something to me. He doesn’t cut me; rather he cuts the ropes at my wrist and I feel an instant relief in my hands. I pull them up and rub at them, trying to get blood flowing to my fingers again. Stephen then walks to the door on the other side of the room and whispers to one of the guards.

  “Get her shoes and coat,” he says, thinking that he speaks softly enough that I can’t hear him.

  He closes the door and sits back down in the chair across from me. “You were right about us being in a town. Elkhorn, to be specific. However, we have isolated ourselves to a much smaller part of the city away from the University.”

  “Isn’t it a bit dangerous to have a town or village in the Epicenter?”

  Stephen smiles at me. “Some might think so, but we have our ways of coping. The danger may have started here, but there are much more dangerous places to be. And since so many people think the way you do, many don’t even think to loot for supplies around here, so we get, or got, most of the supplies for ourselves.”

  “I see you haven’t cleared the hospital yet,” I say.

  “We go in as needed,” he says. “We are a small group. We are tactical…smart.”

  “How many people?” I ask.

  “Just over fifty.”

  “Are you their leader?”

  “We don’t really have a leader.”

  “Do they look to you for leadership?”

  A pause. “Yes.”

  The door opens and the man that hit me in the head comes in with my coat and shoes. He places them on the table in front me and then leaves the room without a word.

  “Are we going somewhere?”

  Stephen nods. “We’re taking a walk.”

  “I want my guns,” I say.

  “You mean the ones without any bullets?”

  “There was one left.”

  He lets out a laugh and stands. “And why do you think I’m going to let you have that?”

  I don’t say anything as I pull on my shoes and coat. He leads me out of the room and into a hallway with brown wood paneling, cracked and water-damaged. The place looks to be an old office building. I glance into one of the rooms and see a bunch of old computers in their cubicles. I shake my head as I think about the people that might have worked here long ago—how everything used to be about work. It was a fight for survival, just not in the same way we face it today.

  We reach the end of the hallway and walk out a door that leads into a wide open parking lot. It’s not raining as I expected, but the clouds are dark and heavy. To my left are barriers of trucks, tires and wooden pallets that make up the perimeter wall. To my right I see a group of children playing some version of tag. I can’t help but smile, not because of the children, but because my unique ability had given me the upper hand once again.

  Stephen leads me through an alley, past another building until we come to a different parking lot. This one has a protective wall at the other end and people are spread all about, talking with each other, laughing. Some are playing games, others have made fires and they sit hunched over a warm cup of coffee.

  “These are my people,” Stephen says. A few of them look up at me and when they notice that I’m a newcomer, they stop what they are doing and stare.

  I try not to look at them, and instead, I turn to Stephen. “What do you want with me?” I ask. “Why are you showing me these people?”

  There is someone I would like you to meet,” he says.

  We walk across the parking lot, with all eyes seemingly on me as we cross. He leads me to another building and opens the door for me. We walk down a hallway until we reach a room. Inside there is a woman sitting at a desk. She wears a headset connected to a radio transceiver. Every couple of seconds she relays a call.

  “Red Falcon this is Home Base, do you copy? Red Falcon, please respond.” She looks up at us and smiles, but then her face turns suddenly serious.

  “Still unable to reach them?” Stephen asks.

  She nods. “I don’t know what could have happened.” I can sense the fear in her voice.

  “I want you to keep trying,” Stephen says.

  “I didn’t plan on stopping,” she says. She looks at me for a moment. “Who is this?”

  “I wanted to introduce to you our newest friend,” Stephen says looking at me, his eyes warning me not to contradict him.

  “Her name is Remi.” He turns to me. “Remi, this is Lydia.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” I say slowly. I start to reach out my hand but think better of it.

  “We found her at the hospital,” he continues. “She was looking for an old friend named Jessi Paxton.”

  Lydia’s face goes from narrowed eyes to wide eyes, her mouth gaping open. Then without warning, her mouth closes and she seems to be snarling at me. “You aren’t going to take her. I won’t let you!”

  “Calm down, calm down,” Stephen says, holding up his hands. “She’s not taking anybody. I just wanted her to meet you.”

  “Why are you looking for Jessi Paxton?” she asks.

  I look at Stephen and he just nods for me to tell her. “Her father sent me to look for her. That’s when I came across Stephen and some of your friends. One of them’s a real jerk," I say, rubbing the back of my head.

  “So, you’re wanting to take her from me?” Lydia asks, tears filling her eyes.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask. “Jessi is here? She’s alive?”

  “Auntie!” The voice behind me is so sweet sounding, so innocent, like something that could have never been born of this world. “Can I go outside?” I turn to see a tiny little girl, barely reaching a height above my knee. She’s wearing a ruffled dress and her bright, blonde hair is pinned back into little pigtails.

  “Not right now, Evie,” Lydia says.

  “Evie?” I say. I squat down to look at the little girl in front of me.

  Her blue eyes study mine and she smiles. “Who are you?” she asks.

  “I’m Remi,” I tell her. “Your name is Evie?”

  She nods emphatically like she is proud of nothi
ng more.

  “Short for Evelyn?” I ask, turning my head toward Stephen and then to Lydia.

  “You can’t take her,” Lydia repeats, now standing. “She’s been my baby since…since the day it all started.”

  I hadn’t planned on taking anyone, but what better opportunity for me than to bring Paxton his granddaughter? He would welcome me in without question. All would be made right. All would be forgiven. I would demand to be a soldier. Not just a soldier, but a commander. Paxton might even ask me to be an elder. This little girl is all the security I need.

  “But her grandfather is still alive,” I say. “He runs a town not too far from here.”

  “You can't take her anywhere,” Stephen says.

  “If you didn’t want me to take her, then why did you show her to me?” I ask. “Why did you bring me here instead of just sending me on my way?”

  “Because you made it to the maternity ward all by yourself and back to the entrance without a scratch,” he says. “That takes talent.”

  “I’ve been on the road a lot,” I say.

  “We could use a person like you here,” he says. “I want to be open and honest with you. No, Jessi is not here, but her daughter is.”

  “Then I should tell Robert Paxton about her,” I say.

  “I don’t know who this man is, or what Crestwood is like, but I can promise you that we offer protection,” Stephen says. “I brought you to Lydia and Evie because I want you to know that I’m not lying to you. You’ve got an honest bunch here that really cares about one another. You can offer us your skills and we can offer you protection.”

  “But you don’t even know me,” I say. “You don’t know what kind of person I am.”

  “I know you are skilled,” he says. “I know that you’re willing and able to go on missions.”

  I look down at Evelyn and she smiles back at me. What if this is the new start that I need? What if I don’t take Evelyn back to Paxton? What if I stay with these people? It seems secure enough, though not nearly as comfortable and nice as Crestwood.

  “Am I allowed to have a gun?” I ask.

  Stephen laughs at me with an eyebrow raised. “Everyone carries a gun if they are old enough. Of course you will be allowed to carry a gun.”

  Elkhorn is not the ideal location. There are so many things that can go wrong. It seems that most of their protection consists of a flimsy wall and the hope that most raiders won’t come near the Epicenter because of its past. These are weaknesses that will be their undoing someday.

  But not today.

  I look into Evelyn’s smiling eyes. Her true grandfather is waiting for her even though he doesn’t know of her existence.

  My thoughts are broken when we hear a crackling from the radio headset. “Unplug the headset,” Stephen says. Lydia does as he commands and a muffled voice says something unintelligible.

  “Can…hear…? …is …, ov…”

  “Red Falcon, this is Home Base, do you read?” Stephen says over the radio.

  There is a long static noise before a voice calls out from the other end. It’s such a low tone, I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman.

  “Is this Home Base?” the voice asks clearly.

  “Yes,” Stephen says, seemingly not recognizing the voice.

  Lydia stands next to Evelyn and holds her close to her side, staring me in the eyes as if to dare me to try and take her away. Evelyn still stares up at me, smiling brightly.

  “Home Base,” the voice says, “Red Falcon has been compromised. They are my prisoners, but I am willing to make a deal.”

  Stephen swears loudly, raising his hand to throw the radio in frustration, but thinks better of it. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Where are my scouts? What kind of deal are you talking about? Who is this?”

  There is a long silence from the other side of the radio, but finally it crackles to life.

  “There will be plenty of time for discussion. For now, keep the transmission open.”

  “Who is this?” Stephen repeats.

  Another pause.

  “You can call me Shadowface.”

  Chapter 19 - Waverly

  I sit on the floor against the wall while Scarecrow stares at me down his nose and reveals his crooked, yellow teeth as he smiles. I want to kill him. He took the one I loved away from me forever. I want him to suffer. I want him to feel fear. I want him to die.

  He and the other raiders got to me before I could get up. I don’t know what happened to the others, but I hope that they got away in time. I guess, I know that they did because what happened in the vision hasn’t happened yet. But this is the warehouse. I recognized it on the way in before Scarecrow’s men threw me into this small room. I can hear the storm raging outside, a sign of things to come.

  I stare up at Scarecrow as he paces the floor in front of me.

  “You have something I want,” he says. “You stole it from the SUV.”

  “I don’t have it,” I say. “Your men already searched me.”

  Left to right, right to left he paces. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette and lights it, puffs of smoke clouding up the room. “Which means one of your people has it then. Isn’t that right, Waverly?”

  Hearing him say my name sends shivers down my spine. How does he know it?

  “Sorry about killing your boyfriend,” he says with a grin. The ashy glow of his cigarette illuminates his eyes like a demon as he sucks in the poisonous air. “He should’ve kept his mouth shut.”

  “You didn’t have to kill him,” I say, feeling for the chain and diamond ring under my shirt. “All we wanted was to pass through.”

  “Wrong place, wrong time,” he says. “We wouldn’t be in this situation right now if we hadn’t met that day. Personally, I’d rather not have to chase you all over the country just for a dinky little thing.”

  “How do you know my name?” I ask.

  “Heh. I was wondering when you were going to ask. I got a call from my good friend Mr. Paxton. Told me you were on the way. He also told me something very interesting about you.” He sucks in more smoke and blows it toward me. “He told me that you can see the future. Just by a simple touch.”

  My insides turn to ice and I look away, cursing Gilbert in my mind.

  He laughs a greedy, sinful laugh that gives me cold chills. “So, it’s true then. You can see the future. I’ve heard of things like this. My boss…Paxton’s boss…told us to keep a watch out for people like you. Calls you the Starborn or some craziness like that.”

  My face contorts into a confused stare, but I don’t look up at him. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction that I acknowledge him any longer.

  “I’ll figure out a way to get that cylinder from your friends soon enough,” he says. “Right now, I want to test something out with you.” He opens the door and shouts. “Joe, get in here!” He lets it shut as he walks closer to me, laughing. He sucks on the cigarette one last time before tossing it to the floor. In a second, Joe opens the door.

  “Yeah, boss?”

  “Get on your knees, and give your hand to Waverly here,” he says. “I’m trying to test something out.”

  I think I’m getting sick. I don’t need the ability of foresight to know what Scarecrow is about to do. Joe looks at him with a confused look, but does as he says. He reaches his hand out to me but I keep my hands to myself, looking up at Scarecrow.

  “Touch his hand,” Scarecrow says.

  “No.”

  He takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes. “Touch his hand, or I’ll make you.” He slowly reaches behind his belt and pulls out a handgun. “I don’t have to threaten your life to make you. A kneecap. A shoulder. It doesn’t matter. Touch his hand.”

  Joe seems to look as nervous as I feel, but he holds his hand out steadily. I swallow hard and press my hand against his palm. A white light flashes before my eyes.

  I see myself, the Waverly of the future, crying, holding her sides she’s sobbing so hard.
There is Scarecrow, and then there is Joe.

  “What did you see?” Scarecrow shouts.

  “You’re going to shoot him,” she whispers.

  Boom!

  Joe falls to the floor, blood oozing from his head wound.

  The white light flashes again and I feel the tears form in my eyes.

  “What did you see?” Scarecrow whispers.

  I can’t stop the tears. I don’t know Joe from anyone, but I don’t want to see him murdered right in front of me. The tears flow quickly and I start to heave. The heaves turn into sobs and I start to hold my sides. I know this is what I just saw, and I want to change something but I can’t.

  “What did you see?” Scarecrow shouts.

  “You’re going to shoot him,” I say softly.

  Boom!

  I close my eyes tightly, having already seen what Joe looks like with a bullet hole in his head.

  “So it works,” Scarecrow says. “Do it to me. I want you to tell me my future.”

  “No,” I say.

  “You will do it,” he says. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” He holds out his hand to me, waiting for me to grab it.

  “What if it’s bad?” I say. “You will be angry with me if I give you bad news.”

  “You are giving me the power to know what I need to change,” he says. “If I can know the future, I am the master of it.”

  If only that were true, I think to myself.

  I bite the bullet and reach out to touch Scarecrow’s hand. He pulls back briefly. “The truth, now. You hear me?”

  “I understand.”

  I think it’s the vilest thing to touch Scarecrow’s hand. I want to bite off his finger or grab his gun away and start shooting, but I know such an act would just get me killed.

  My hand touches his and the light returns.

  I see my future self standing on a metal walkway on the second floor of the warehouse, a railing on both sides of her to keep her from falling into the crowd of hungry greyskins below. She’s holding a crowbar, walking toward Scarecrow at the end of the walkway.

  He smiles at her bitterly. He holds up his gun, points it at her and pulls the trigger. The click tells her that it’s empty. Scarecrow holds the gun in the air and shrugs. “I guess you have me cornered.”