by Wall, Nathan
“The lady who has my brother.” Lian bit her lip to keep from crying. “And she knows why Sanderson separated us.”
Chapter Nine
Jarrod II
Jarrod sat on top of a round table with his feet propped up on a bar stool. He was hunched over, hands in lap, gazing out the window. His eyes glimmered with blue light. They reflected off the window, growing brighter and dimmer in sync with the waves on the shore. The door into the dining area squeaked on its hinges as it swung open. Claire entered. Jarrod blinked and the blue glare vanished from his eyes. Claire stood to his right and lifted her hand but pulled it back apprehensively. He grabbed her palm and brushed it along his face.
“It’s good to see you happy,” Jarrod said. “You are happy, right?”
“I’m getting there.” She nudged him over and sat with him on the table. She squinted out the window. “Not much of a view.”
Jarrod looked back outside. His eyes could decipher the chaotic scene hidden beyond the darkness. The tanker sat parked in the sea with a large hole gashed in the side. Several of the cargo containers barely stuck out of the tide. His eyes refocused and connected with hers in the reflection.
“It’s an incredible view,” he whispered, putting his arm around her back.
“Flattery,” she smiled, laying her head in his lap. She yawned and closed her eyes. “It works.”
The stray beams from a helicopter in the distance briefly flooded into the windows. The light cast the outline of three dark figures into his field of view. One of them was a giant. He blinked and the blue beam in his eyes came back. The figures were gone. The glow vanished from his eyes. Claire slid her hand behind his head, pulling him down for a kiss. It did little to calm his nerves.
“Relax,” she said with a breathy voice.
“This will have the opposite effect.” He winked at her, grinning. The battered contours of her face caused a hole to burn in the pit of his stomach. His hand balled up into a fist to keep from shaking. He kept hammering himself about causing the ship to crash and hurting those closest to him. His left hand caressed her forehead. “I’m dangerous. This is all my fault. I’m losing control and next time I might not be able to stop. I almost killed Austin. I could see what I was doing, hear what I was saying, and knew what was coming next, but I couldn’t prevent it.”
He stopped short of telling her that it felt good.
“But you did stop. Austin says you got control.” Claire rubbed the back of his arms. “Lian says this woman we’re looking for can help you.”
“What if she’s wrong?” Jarrod looked back out the window. His reflection snarled at him. “What if the woman from Sanderson’s memories is dead? I remember how afraid of me he was when I was a child. I remember the voices...”
“You were a kid then.” She put her hand to his chin and refocused his attention. “You’re more capable of dealing with it now, right? Kids are scared and lack the refined skills of adults.”
He wished that were true. He’d grown up, but he was still scared and unable to control his powers—now it seemed more like his powers were controlling him. It was all muddled.
“You’ll get whatever this is under control. We’re all here to help.” She sat up and kissed him. For a moment, they allowed themselves to forget where they were.
An hour passed. Jarrod stood with his right arm arched against the window and his forehead pressed into his bicep. The breath from his nose fogged up the glass. His eyes briefly glanced down at Claire while she slept soundly. He knew he should rest too, but his body couldn’t. Instead, he continued to look aimlessly out the window.
He swore he’d seen something earlier—the three dark figures. Who were they and what did they want? Where did they go? He wouldn’t let himself believe it was another lie conjured by his own consciousness.
“It’s not,” a voice said. It was his, but his lips hadn’t moved. He didn’t bother looking around, knowing there was no one else besides him and Claire in the room. He hesitated before responding to the voice, not wanting to encourage it.
Why should I believe you? The itch in the base of his skull grew. He didn’t want to scratch. The voice couldn’t be trusted, yet he couldn’t resist. You hurt those closest to me.
“Closest to us. I haven’t killed them. I need you,” the voice replied. “You will need me too. Those figures are after you. I have no reason to lie—I’d never lie to you.”
Really?
“Really. If they get you, they get me...”
The blue vision poured out of Jarrod’s eyes. Across the street stood a towering Cyclops. Jarrod’s heart raced. His control of the aurascales slipped. He grabbed his chest, fighting back against the armor. The blue and black aurascales slithered through his veins and skin, tearing at his will like shards of glass. He looked up, noticing the Cyclops marching toward him.
“She’s alive,” Jarrod panted, sweating profusely as he tried to fight the armor. “Maya found us.” He looked down at Claire. Protecting her and the others was most important. “I have to get away from here.” He snarled at the Cyclops through the window. “But I have to stop him first.”
The aurascales won the struggle and he jumped through the window. He rolled to his feet, dressed in full armor and ready to fight. He drove a shoulder into the lumbering giant’s torso with all his might. The Cyclops flew backwards fifty yards, crashing on the beach. Jarrod leapt and landed on top of the frightened giant. He squeezed tightly onto the Cyclops’ throat.
“Kill him!” the voice yelled at Jarrod.
A shockwave of sonic energy surged though Jarrod, attacking from the left. It blew him off the Cyclops and caused the aurascales to ripple. The exoskeleton armor adjusted, growing thicker along the front of his body to defuse the vibrations. A pudgy, bearded man raced to the Cyclops’ side.
A shield sprouted from the aurascales and deflected the frequency flowing from the pudgy man’s hands. Gusts of wind jetted away from Jarrod in ninety-degree angles, causing all the shop windows along the main street to shatter.
A pair of hands snatched Jarrod from behind and slung him to the ground. He tore the hands away from his eyes and saw that it was a blonde woman he thought to be about his age. She shoved his face into the dirt. Her bulky silver-plated armor shifted around her left arm, locking onto the back of his head.
“Athena, do you have him?” the stocky man asked the blonde, coughing as he tended to the Cyclops.
“I do,” she replied. “Piece of...”
Jarrod wrapped his ankles around her neck, twisted her arm around, and tossed her over his head. He kicked off his back and to his feet. Turning around, he analyzed this Athena. Billions of purple dots formed together over her skin. The aurascales covered every portion of her body except her face. Jarrod thought she looked like a female version of Jackson, or at the very least there was a strong family resemblance.
“They’re recruiting women for the Double-Helix?” he wondered aloud, locking eyes with her. The sharp wind slapped across his face. They lunged for one another.
Athena swung first but Jarrod rolled under her blow. He jabbed at a gap in her exo-armor, striking her ribs, and then kicked her feet out from under her. The Cyclops pulled Jarrod away from Athena and tossed him across the ground. Light beamed from the pudgy man’s hands. Jarrod sprinted toward the trio, rearing back for another jab. A cinder block of ice manifested around his right hand and pulled him to the ground
“Do you have him, Harold?” Athena asked the pudgy, red-bearded man. He nodded in reply.
Athena cracked a roundhouse across Jarrod’s face, sending him to his back. He followed the momentum of the kick and used it to his advantage by sending it through his hand with the ice-block. He lifted his right hand off the ground and bashed the ice-block into Athena’s back. The ice splintered apart.
“You’re a nifty ol’ buggar, aren’t ya?” Harold grunted, waving his glowing hand through the air as if he were trying to write his name with sparklers. A super bright
flare erupted, momentarily washing out everything Jarrod could see. When his vision came back, Athena was inches away. Her right hook sent him barreling like tumbleweed.
Jarrod shoved his left hand into the sand and slowly came to a stop. As he looked up, Athena was already high in the air soaring towards him. She landed on him, driving her knees into his shoulders. Putting her left hand to his throat, she pressed it into the ground. Her right fist raised and a dagger appeared in her hand. He latched onto both of her wrists and pushed against her.
He was woozy and still recovering from the flare. The blurry outline of Lian and Austin raced his way. Lian’s eyes went white and her hand lifted toward Harold. In turn, his eyes blanked and his hands grew transparent with light. A sound-blast erupted from his palms, nearly ripping all the aurascales from Athena’s body. She soared away from Jarrod and landed several yards away with a thud.
“Kill them,” the voice in Jarrod’s head urged, speaking frantically. “Kill them all now while you’ve got the drop.” Jarrod stood and staggered around, pulling at his hair. A pale blue glow crept through his skin. “Can you feel them? Their souls beckon.”
“Stop him.” Austin nudged Lian and pointed at Jarrod. “I really think you should stop him now.”
“I can’t reach in his mind,” Lian replied. Her eyes locked onto Harold. “Perhaps it’ll work again.”
The light from Harold’s hands surged over his entire body this time. He lifted off the ground and clapped his hands. A tidal wave of sound rippled across the beach. The force of the sonic boom smacked Jarrod in the gut. The aurascales retreated back inside his body as he rolled across the ground and threw up simultaneously.
Lian lowered her hand and Harold collapsed. The Cyclops stood motionless, scratching the back of his head. Lian walked by him and patted him on the shoulder.
“It’s OK, Rob. I’m not gonna hurt you.” She winked, walking over to Jarrod with Austin by her side. She stood at Jarrod’s head and held her fingertips up to Austin’s lips before he could speak. “I read their minds. That’s how I know their names.”
“Fair enough.” Austin nodded. “Who are they?”
“It seems you are the posse we’ve been sent to retrieve,” Harold said as Rob helped him up. “Miss Lian here was able to divulge as much to me while crawling around in my head. Sorry for the misunderstanding, but we were caught off guard when one of your own attacked us. Strange, though. I’ve never come across the color of those aurascales before.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard that story before.” Jarrod grimaced, gripping his ribs as Austin assisted him to his feet. He eyed Lian. “Did you have to do it so freaking hard?”
“Look at what you did to the ship.” She put her fists to her hips and lowered her head. “I’m not going there again.”
“Don’t blame her,” Austin said. “I told her to put you down.”
“Right.” Jarrod nodded, trying to catch his breath. He walked over to Athena, who was still kneeling with her hands covering her face, and offered her a hand. She slapped it away before standing and marching over to Harold’s side. “It was a valiant effort.”
“Valiant?” She looked over her shoulder and scoffed. “I had you until your friends intervened.”
“Because it took three of you to distract and sneak attack me.” He stopped mid-statement and bit his lip. His head hurt too much to argue. “Whatever.”
“You have no retort.” She grinned. “Victory is mine again”
Jarrod rolled his eyes. Was this chick being serious or playful? Who was playful after a fight like that? And all this time he’d thought he was the one going crazy.
“Is everything OK?” Claire called out, sprinting towards the group, on edge because of all the commotion. “What in San Jacinto is going on?”
“Are you ancient, too?” Athena asked. Harold put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head.
“I am Harold and these are my companions, Rob and Athena,” Harold said, putting his right hand to his chest as he bowed and walked toward Lian. “And you’re the one.”
“I suppose,” she replied, gazing awkwardly at him. She stepped behind Austin, whose eyes shifted with animalistic ferocity. Harold stepped back.
“The one what?” Claire asked, breathing onto her hands to warm them up. The wind blew against her light coat, making it crackle.
“The child we couldn’t keep.” Harold waved Athena over, whispering to her.
“No secrets!” Jarrod yelled, storming over to Harold and grabbing him by the arm. He yanked and turned Harold around.
“There are none,” Lian interrupted him. She tapped her head. “He couldn’t, even if he tried. I got him in here.”
“Very true, mate.” Harold held his hands up and sighed heavily when Jarrod let him go.
Athena walked toward Lian. She nodded at Claire—who didn’t seem to share the same enthusiasm—while passing by her. Athena reached for Lian’s hand, but Austin’s wolf-paw snatched her wrist.
“A changeling,” Athena gasped.
“Excuse me if I’m not so trusting,” Austin said through his teeth, glaring at Harold. Athena pulled away and stood back next to Rob.
“Sorry about the shoulder-tackle.” Jarrod leaned toward Rob, who was standing to his left, and slapped the Cyclops on the back. “Nothing personal.”
Rob whimpered and rubbed his chest.
“Sorry about my cross.” Athena playfully mimed a punch while biting her lower lip, surveying Jarrod. She pushed her hair behind her ear and tapped him on the right shoulder. Touching Jarrod’s chin, she shifted his face down to look at his eye. “I think that will leave a mark.”
“Excuse me, but I’m with Austin on this one. I don’t trust you guys one bit,” Claire said, stepping between Jarrod and Athena. Her hands caressed his face. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m alright.” Jarrod shook his head, looking cross-eyed at Claire. She pressed her face into his chest, practically leaping into his arms. “Um, OK.”
“We must be on our way,” Harold said, whistling at Athena. “We’ve already attracted too much attention from the locals.”
Athena nodded in reply, grabbing Jarrod and Claire by the wrists. A crystal with pink mist sprouted from her armor and hovered in place. Harold touched Austin and Lian. A pink cloud swirled around the group, slowly taking hold of them. Jarrod pulled Claire in tight.
“This is going to be uncomfortable,” he whispered to her.
Reality became flimsy, like cold gelatin. A pink light pierced through them, splitting apart the molecules that held them together. The cold sting subsided as they were pieced back together on a hillside overlooking a steep drop off into the Irish Sea. Claire inhaled, pressing a hand against her chest. Jarrod scooped her up and followed Athena towards a small hut at the top of a slope.
“I think I remember this place,” Lian said, pushing into Austin’s embrace.
“You should,” Harold replied. “You’ve been here before.”
“Where is here?” Austin asked.
“The Progeny Lounge,” Harold replied, turning to face the group as he twisted the door knob and pushed into the hut.
Chapter Ten
Isis I
Isis watched her eight year old son Horus train with his uncle, her brother Sobek. One day Horus would be expected to be a leader. Part of being a capable commander was holding one’s own in battle, and killing if one must. She stood on her balcony, viewing him through a window which allowed her to be unseen by those on the other side. Her reflection looked haggard.
Her brother Sobek—that thought was humorous to her. She’d always been told he was Nephthys’ twin, and a few years her junior. She didn’t remember ever being a child like her son, though. The thought of being little once upon a time was both silly and somehow strange. The angels were supposed to have always been, created from the light of stars.
Really, she was related to all the angels. Wasn’t she? How could they all simultaneously be her siblings, lovers, frien
ds and allies, but also be singled out specifically? Osiris and Set were brothers. Michael and Gabriel brothers, and related still to Osiris in that they referred to him as brother, but not Set and Sobek, or her as a sister. Why the distinction?
It was a fool’s errand to try to understand. That was why the humans remained so frail—they were always caught up with where they came from instead of where they were going. What’s done is done, she always said. The important thing was what lay ahead. Horus and her nephew—and surrogate son—Anubis deserved a tomorrow.
Of course, she convinced herself of all that as a way to cope. There was truth hidden in the light of their eyes. Something devious that put a crack in Father’s foundation. Even though she always thought Zeus a bit of a radical, there was truth in the grand speeches he would give the other Archangels just before the Last Great War. A truth she would overhear when Osiris and Zeus would seek council with one another and draw plans of merging their Corners. It was a truth Osiris died for. It was now embodied in her son, and she would do anything to protect it, whatever it was.
“Get up.” Sobek’s voice was stern. His blade ran parallel to his right leg, the tip pointed at the ground. He walked in a circle around Horus, stepping sideways. The young boy slowly pushed himself up. Anubis sat on a step in the far corner of the room with his eyes more curious of the sparring than the lessons he was instructed to read. Sobek commanded once more. “Your fight is not over.”
“It’s no use. You’re too fast and strong,” Horus replied, on the verge of tears. He slammed his fist into the gray floor, grinding his teeth together as he stared down his trainer.
“Surrender is a state of mind settled on before battle. If you’re truly done, then you never had a chance.” Sobek lunged forward and swiped down toward Horus. The boy jumped, rolling to the left, barely avoiding the edge of the sword as it hit and splintered the floor.
Horus snatched his weapon off the ground, spinning and jumping to his feet. He slung the sword over and around his head, slashing across his body at Sobek. A shield materialized out of thin air, deflecting Horus’ blow. Sobek followed the block with a swipe of his blade-turned-staff to take out his nephew’s legs. Horus landed with a thud, drawing a concerned look from Anubis who quickly rose to his feet.