The pit of Jake’s stomach ached. This wasn’t TV or a game. This was Mom’s life.
Dad belly-crawled forward, apparently too low for Coach or Captain Hill to see him.
Jake was close enough now to see Coach Blevins in the dining room window. It was a double-hung window frame with double thick insulated glass. The top half of the window was down, and Coach was off to the side behind the wall, watching the riverbank. His baseball cap was on backwards, and he held a pistol.
Reaching into his shirt, Jake pulled out a rock and hefted it in his hand, waiting.
Dad reached a large tree and slowly eased into a crouch where he could take an aim at the window. He turned, scanned the brush and spotted Jake. He nodded, and mouthed, “Now.”
Jake threw the rock at the window, as hard as the opening pitch of the World Series. With a crash and tinkle of falling glass, the window splintered.
Startled, Coach Blevins pulled back and exposed himself.
Dad shot.
Coach Blevins cried out. And then, it was silent.
Dad and Jake regrouped and considered what to do next.
In the end, they had no choice. Dad said, “We have to go in.”
Jake nodded his agreement.
Keeping low, they ran to the house’s foundation and crept around the side. Everything was dark as Dad and Jake stormed the porch and burst through the front door. Jake, who’d been here before, motioned Dad upstairs to search for Mom, while he cautiously felt his way in the dark hallway to check on the Coach.
Peering around a corner, moonlight streamed through a window into the dining room. Captain Hill knelt beside Coach Blevins who was slumped against the wall, his face pale and slack, his eyes unfocused. His arm dripped blood.
Jake closed his eyes in relief. Coach wasn’t dead; Dad had just winged him.
He opened his eyes to see Captain Hill pointing a gun at him.
Jake said the first thing he thought of, “What’s that?”
“A Glock 34.”
“A gun?” Stupidly, Jake thought, Two guns in one night.
“ELLIS Force’s issue.” Captain Hill clicked something, probably taking the safety off.
Afraid to move, Jake’s nostrils flared in fear. “I’m just a kid.”
“And who shot my Dad?” Captain Hill stepped forward.
Now Jake did move, spinning away, and stumbling toward the kitchen. Desperately, he looked around for something to protect himself, but the wan light of the moon made it difficult to see anything. Over the bar hung racks of pots and pans. He ran a hand across them, making them clang and clank, until he recognized the feel of a heavy iron skillet. He turned just as Captain Hill entered the room. Darting to the side, Jake swung the skillet for Captain Hill’s head, but missed, and the skillet went flying through a window, breaking it with another crash and tinkle of falling glass.
Captain Hill glanced over at the window, which let Jake pick up a kitchen chair and swing toward the man’s head. Captain Hill raised his arm and deflected the chair, and it, too, fell aside. The momentum, though, pulled Jake off balance and he fell heavily. Captain Hill raised a booted foot and stomped, trying to smash Jake’s head. Quick reflexes saved him, as Jake rolled like a sausage across the floor to stop against the kitchen cabinets. He shoved up and stood.
Captain Hill slipped his gun into his shoulder holster and advanced with arms held up like a boxer. Jake wanted to run, but he’d backed himself into a corner, literally.
From the other room, though, Coach called. “Cy. It won’t stop bleeding.”
Reluctant, Captain Hill stopped and almost snarled in frustration.
“Cy,” came the low moan.
“Damn!” Captain Hill turned and ran back to the dining room.
Jake scrambled for the front hallway and dashed upstairs calling, “Mom! Dad!”
Coming toward him down the hall were dark figures. He recognized the silhouette of Dad—and Mom! Mom was okay! She was okay! She was okay.
Behind her was Colonel Lett, her bodyguard. He was okay, too.
Jake slumped against a wall and let himself slide down, holding his head and wanting to cry. Mom was okay. He could breathe again. Water dripped off Jake’s clothes and puddled below him. Already, though, his magma-sapiens metabolism was drying out his clothes. It was his squishy, wet shoes that bothered him the most.
Dad leaned over and asked, “What happened downstairs?”
It wasn’t over, yet. Jake had to pull himself together, and they had to get out of there.
“You winged the Coach. Captain Hill is doing first-aid stuff. We need to go.”
Dad nodded and turned to Colonel Lett, “We’ve got to get back to our car, which is at a cabin upstream. Stay here. After we leave, neutralize anyone who’s left and then call the Embassy for help.” He tossed the Risonian soldier his cell phone. “We’ll be back if possible. Otherwise, evacuate as you can.”
The Colonel nodded, and Jake was sure the Risonian solider could take care of things here.
Dad led the way downstairs. Mom’s hair—which was messy, almost straw-like, as if she hadn’t washed it in a week—was tied back with a red scarf. When she’d been kidnapped, she’d been wearing that red scarf and a blue blazer with some jeans. Now, the blazer was gone, her white shirt was dirty, and she stank of sweat and onions. But her dark eyes flashed, and she reached over to squeeze Jake’s hand, to give him a nod of encouragement.
They snuck downstairs and out the door without seeing anyone. Jake assumed that Captain Hill was still doctoring his father, but he didn’t take the time to look around the wall into the dining room. Outside, the sky was brilliantly lit with a full moon that dimmed the Milky Way but left the major stars sparkling.
Dad and Mom held hands as they pounded toward the river. They had to get back to the Hill’s cabin where Dad and Jake had left their SUV, so they could get away and take care of Dolk’s TAG-GIMS. Commander Gordon was right to insist they bring it. They’d have a chance now to deploy it.
At the bank, Mom bent and tried to climb down, but she cursed in Risonian and said, “I’m so stiff. I was tied up.”
Dad went down first, and she half fell into his arms.
Jake looked back at the Tullis’s cabin and groaned. Apparently, Captain Hill had evaded Colonel Lett and now stood on the porch, shading his eyes and looking for them. When he saw Jake, he jumped off the porch and came for them.
Lett would take care of Coach Blevins, but that left the captain for them.
Jake leapt off the bank, landing heavily, but was up instantly, running full tilt toward the ford. But suddenly, he stopped.
A herd of elk was lazily crossing just at that point. Two or three dozen of the large animals ambled across the water, one stopping to drink, and another looking up at them. The white-rumpled bull whipped his head around, his antlers wide and deadly.
It didn’t matter. They had to cross the river and get to their car.
Mom yelled and flapped her arms, but the bull elk held steady. Dad charged straight for the bull, but after ten steps, he stopped, too, because the bull hadn’t budged. The bull was waiting for his herd to cross, and like a ship captain going down with his sinking boat, apparently this animal was going to be the last to move. The elk cows were moving quicker now, though.
Then, from behind, a gunshot.
At the sound, the bull bucked, then bugled loudly, a high-pitched, “Oh-wee-ooo.” Then he darted away and the herd stampeded after him.
Looking back, Jake saw that Captain Hill pointed skyward with his gun; he pulled the trigger again and again and again. He only meant to scare the elk herd and not hurt any. Relief shot through Jake.
Captain Hill was getting closer now, though. They had to hurry.
Mom and Jake dove through the deep water, swimming more rapidly than they could run, and gained the opposite side easily. Dad had to run for the shallow ford and splash across, Captain Hill right behind.
Again, luck was on their side as Capt
ain Hill slipped and fell onto his butt.
Stunned, he sat there a moment, giving Dad a chance to get away.
The Roses clawed and pulled their way up the bank and darted to their SUV. Dad juggled his keys to find the right one and started the car before Mom and Jake were even seated, pulling out as they slammed the doors shut.
Jake hoped that Captain Hill would stop right there and go back to his father. And Colonel Lett. Jake watched out the back window while Captain Hill darted into the cabin and immediately came back out to jump into his own SUV. Captain Hill’s white vehicle leapt after them, just as the bull elk had leapt away.
“Jake,” Dad said. “We need to find a high place where I can use the drone to drop Dolk’s packet into a fumarole near the crater.”
Jake shrugged. The only place he knew was Snow Lake Trail. It had several high spots just off the parking lot. Or Dad could even go to Bench Lake, where Hill had used the drone, because it gave a clear view of Mt. Rainier.
Dad drove expertly, pulling out smoothly onto Highway 12 and heading northeast toward the visitor’s center. Ahead, against the velvet sky, towered Mt. Rainier. Still smoking.
Watching behind, Captain Hill’s vehicle lights turned onto the highway behind them.
Jake warned Dad, “Here he comes.”
Dad drove faster, pushing the speed limit, taking curves at wicked breakneck speed. Mom gripped the armrest, her hand turning white. Her lips were tight and thin, but she said nothing. Silently, Jake sat back, and reached for his seat belt and buckled in.
As a crow flies, it might have been 10-15 miles from Packwood city limits to the park. But they had to travel east on Highway 12 and pick up some winding forest roads before they came out on Steven’s Canyon Road. It was a tense drive, longer than they wanted with Captain Hill on their tail and driving faster than they should.
As they drove, Mom explained what had happened: “They caught us on the way to the airport.” She and the Colonel had been tied up and only untied a few minutes a day to eat and go to the bathroom. She’d expected to die when the mountain erupted.
Finally, Dad whipped the SUV into the parking lot for the Snow Lake Trail. Jumping out, he threw open the back and grabbed the heavy case that carried their drone. Mom stopped him with an outstretched hand.
He understood and pulled his gun to hand it to her. She checked the clip and said, “We’ll give you time to get the Dolk’s TAG-GIMS where it needs to go.”
The brilliant maple vines of a couple weeks ago were bare, and the mountains were cloaked now in just evergreen trees and the brilliant white glaciers that gleamed softly in the moonlight. At this altitude, a brisk wind blew. Jake was cold—and he was never cold. But his mother held a gun, and with that anger in her eyes, she meant to use it. That chilled his heart. Legs spread for stability, she leaned over the SUV’s hood, pointing the gun at the entrance to the parking lot.
When Captain Hill’s white SUV slowed and pulled in, she didn’t hesitate: she shot.
The right front tire went flat. The car jerked to a stop, reversed and peeled away. They heard it for a few minutes, and then, it went silent.
Mom groaned, “He’s parked somewhere down the road and will try to go through the woods to stop Dad.”
“You stay here,” Jake said, “and make sure he doesn’t come back to the parking lot. I’ll go and warn Dad.”
She pulled him into a quick hug—she was sweating with tension in spite of the cold—and he darted into the woods. A few hundred feet away, though, he slowed and turned off the path. He could go and warn Dad, but that would only mean that Captain Hill would find them, and Dad wouldn’t have time to deploy Dolk’s TAG-GIMS.
Instead, Jake could sneak back through the woods and ambush the Captain. Even if he lost, it would give Dad more time.
He pushed off the path, through shrubs and vines, trying to head to where he last heard Hill’s SUV. He tripped on a fallen log that he hadn’t seen in the dark. Lying there, doubts overwhelmed him; should he go back to Dad or try to cut Hill off?
Nearby, he heard the crunch of dead, dry leaves.
Jake rolled silently to his belly and tried to see through the shadows under the trees. His heart pounded with fear. There. A man was running.
Under the dark forest canopy though, Jake wasn’t sure he could recognize anyone. It didn’t matter: no one else was out here.
Jake rose to a crouch and waited. Just as the figure approached, he sprinted out and tackled him. They rolled over and over, and Captain Hill wound up on top. He drew back a hand to hit Jake, but pause to glance upward. A buzzing sound from overhead was coming closer.
Dad’s drone skimmed away toward the crater.
“No!” Captain Hill screamed at the sky.
He looked down again, ready to hit Jake, but was surprised when Jake reared up and threw a punch straight at his chin. Before, when he’d hit Captain Hill’s belly, it was Jake’s first time in real combat, and he’d held back. This time, he threw his weight into it, and it landed with a bone-jarring thud on Captain Hill’s chin. The Captain fell back, momentarily stunned.
Jake rose, shaking out his aching hand knuckles. He didn’t like hand-to-hand combat: it hurt.
Hill leapt up, though, and charged at Jake, shoving him aside and pounding through the bushes toward Dad and the drone’s controller.
Jake had been here before—and lost. This time, he’d make sure that Captain Hill didn’t make it to Dad.
Hill had lost the advantage of surprise, but he was still stronger and faster than Jake, who trailed along as quickly as he could. Hill couldn’t be exactly sure where Dad was sitting: all Dad had to do was be quiet and motionless.
Except for the glow of the controller’s monitor. In the dark, that would be a giveaway even from a distance. Even as Jake thought that, Hill gave a cry of triumph.
Dad had remembered Jake’s story about Bench Lake and the vantage point of the rocks. He stood on top of a rock silhouetted against the moon and facing Mt. Rainier.
Hill scrambled up the rock, but Jake grabbed his boots and yanked. Hill fell hard on his belly and face, and when he rose, blood spurted from his nose. Still, he summoned Jake with his hand. “Come on, baby shark,” he taunted. “I can take you.”
Jake knew it was true. But he had an advantage that Hill didn’t have. He stormed toward the ELLIS Forces officer, and his momentum carried them toward the water. Jake fearlessly thrust Hill under and didn’t resist when the bigger man pulled him under, too. His breathing switched almost instantly to water breathing. Other mountain lakes had fish kill but so far, this one had escaped. The water was so pure, it was hard not to stop and revel in it—and he knew he had Hill right where he wanted him.
The water shone brilliantly under the full moon, and myriads of stars reflected on the face of the lake.
Jake was like a shark, now, just as Hill had feared. Hill thrashed in the water and finally surfaced, gasping at air. Jake circled him lazily. When Hill started to swim for shore, Jake thrust hard to reach out and grab Hill’s feet and tug him under again. Deep.
Hill’s eyes were wide and his cheeks puffed out in an effort not to breathe underwater. He kicked hard for the surface, and Jake let him go, returning to a slow circle of his prey. He toyed with the man, allowing him to rise to catch a breath—because he didn’t want to kill Hill, just keep him out of Dad’s way—but then pulling him back under. Hill kicked and struggled, but his movements were weaker and weaker each time.
Above them, silhouetted against the star-lit sky, Dad pumped his arm: “Victory!”
Dolk’s Tungsten Anti-Gravity – Gradient-Index Meta-Surface was inside Mt. Rainier.
Suddenly, Jake realized that the cold was making Hill sluggish, so he reluctantly pushed and pulled the man to shore.
Hypothermia, he thought in disgust. He’d forgotten that humans were so cold-blooded.
The Faces of Rison
Jake stood in the middle of his room, closed his eyes, and rolled his glass
marbles between his hands. Carefully, he chose just one, and screwing his eyes shut tight, he dropped the marble. It missed the jar and bounced wildly under the bed.
It was odd, Jake thought, that one of his most important lessons on Earth came from his enemy, Coach Blevins. The discussion about statesmen versus politicians had struck home, though, and Jake knew he had to face this issue squarely. With Rison on the brink of collapse, they had no room for politicians, only statesmen.
Both Blevins and Hill spent a couple days in the hospital recovering from the gunshot—just a flesh wound—and the hypothermia. After Mt. Rainier stopped smoking, and it was obvious the volcano had subsided, the father and son disappeared, clearing out both houses and probably leaving the country. But before they left, Captain Hill released to the press Jake’s identity as the Risonian Ambassador’s son. Inevitable. It was the only place left to strike at the Quad-des. But Jake was tired of hiding anyway.
His heritage as son of Dayexi Quad-de and stepson of Swann Quad-de meant that he had to stop being a child and step up himself. They had another Thanksgiving dinner on Thanksgiving Day, and this time, the whole family talked: Sir, Easter, Mom, Dad and Jake.
The thing that Jake noticed the most: they were all honest with him, holding nothing back. When he spoke, they listened. Like when he told Mom, “I won’t hide any more.”
Mom had agreed, “We’ll be the Faces of Rison. Together.”
The only thing they would still keep secret was the identity of his biological father, Commander Blake Rose. No one needed to know that Jake was half human because that would open up too many questions.
Jake murmured, “Mother and son. It’ll be good for Earth to see that we have families just as strong as theirs.”
Together. They had to turn the tide of opinion so other Risonians could join them.
“Action!”
Jake and Mom strolled along the shore while the cameraman walked backward holding the camera, giving the taped segment a casual feel.
Mt. Rainier loomed in the background. The press didn’t know that Jake and his family had reversed the sabotage of the volcano; the press didn’t even know there’d been sabotage. Captain Hill was still walking around free and would never be charged. But Jake had wanted Mt. Rainier in the background of this new video, “The Faces of Rison.” For him, Mt. Rainier had become a symbol of planet Rison’s future destruction and the Risonian people’s future salvation.
Sleepers (The Blue Planets World series Book 1) Page 22