The two remaining got shots off of their own, with a bolt grazing Jake’s shoulder. Ignoring the pain, Jake spun away and fired a round of plasma blasts into the one of the Gnols. He fell dead to the floor. The lone remaining Gnol frantically turned back to his station and punched at his controls. Suddenly, a piercing alarm echoed throughout the entire ship.
Reaching out, Jake invisibly grasped the terrified soldier. He pulled him through the air toward him as the Gnol flailed his arms and legs hysterically, trying to break free. Just before the Gnol crashed with Jake, he punched him squarely in the face, blood splattering everywhere. The blow was powerful enough to kill the Gnol, but Jake didn’t have time to check as he fell onto the floor, unconscious.
Jake rushed toward the glass and looked out into the hangar. It was swarming now with hundreds of guards, most of them looking up into the control station and pointing. It seemed, at least for now, that none of them noticed Nichelle and Celeste. He pulled the detonator from his pocket and pushed the button. To the right of the hangar, the first fighter exploded into a huge fireball, killing some of the nearby Gnols and injuring others. The explosion was following by the others within one second of one another.
During the confusion, Jake searched the computer stations for the controls to the blast door. He found it and deactivated it. The blast doors began to open slowly, with the permeable plasma barrier behind it, protecting them and the ships from the vacuum of space. He heard the elevator lower as he searched for his next task - the controls to the tractor beam.
The elevator began to rise when he found them. Raising his plasma rifle, he fired two rounds into the controls. The station lit up like a Christmas tree. Suddenly, the elevator doors opened. Jake looked up. There were easily thirty soldiers on the elevator, all with their rifles pointed directly at him. Before they could fire, he fired into the crowd, hitting four of them. Then the volley of plasma blasts came his way. He dropped to the floor and rolled to the right, dropping his plasma rifle as he did so. The volley of plasma blasts exploded off of the computer station. Jake could feel his skin burn from the ensuing fireball.
Quickly, he pulled a pistol from a dead Gnol as well as his own and fired into the giant pane of glass. Shards of glass exploded everywhere. He then jumped out of the station, firing back into the Gnols, hitting several of them. The remaining Gnols fired back at him.
Controlling his rapid descent to the hangar bay floor below with his telekinetic abilities, Jake turned his body. The soldiers on the hangar floor raised their weapons and began firing. As he fell, he fired rounds of plasma blasts into the crowds below him.
He was hit several times, but because his transfigured body was almost back to full strength, the blasts merely felt like bee stings. Just before he landed, a sharp pain resonated from his back to his head, paralyzing him for a few seconds. He was hit with a blast squarely in the back and one that would have surely killed a normal human being.
Because he was no longer able to control his fall, he landed face first onto the hard metal surface, his body momentarily paralyzed. His eyes darted back and forth, and he could see the hundreds of Gnols within the hangar rushing toward him. For a moment, fear seemed to paralyze him more than the injury had. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get out of this mess.
Then, just as a group of troops amassed around him, he heard the deafening blasts of gun turrets. Large explosions ensued, followed by screaming men and flashes of intense heat. Jake was surrounded in a fireball. As soon as he felt his legs again, he jumped to his feet and ran through the fire.
Once away from the blast, his skin began to regenerate and heal itself. His new body was back, and he felt more energized than he had ever felt before. Looking up, he saw Nichelle and Celeste in the cockpit of the Nighthawk. Giant red-orange blasts of energy erupted from its turrets once again into a bank of fighters and Gnols. Again, a giant fireball exploded, followed by screams of agony.
Jake sprinted to the Nighthawk. He ran to the back where the cargo hold doors were still lowered. Ahead of him were two Gnols who managed to get ahead of him and were running up the ramp.
Jake flung his arms forward, catching each Gnol in his telekinetic grip and then threw his arms back. The Gnols flew past him before crashing into a shuttle behind the Nighthawk. Once on the ship, he hit the controls that closed the ramp. The ramp raised and closed as he rushed to the cockpit.
Nichelle quickly moved out of the pilot’s seat and secured herself into a seat in the passenger hold. “Let’s get out of here!” Jake said, securing himself into the pilot’s seat.
He guided the ship backwards out of the hangar bay as the remaining soldiers fired at it. The weak blasts from the rifles sparked off of its armored skin. Just before the Nighthawk passed through the plasma shield, he fired four rounds of plasma blasts into the control station. A gigantic explosion ensued. Suddenly, the plasma shield disabled, which caused the vacuum of space to suck out every ship and Gnol within the hangar. But before any ship or debris hit their ship, Jake turned it around and sped off toward Earth.
CHAPTER 17: PYRAMID OF THE SUN
Underground Pyramid under the Pyramid of the Sun, Teotihuacan, Mexico . . .
Dorange let out a menacing scream. He wasn’t about to let these humans destroy everything he had worked so hard to achieve. Tossing the Gnolom plate aside onto the ground so that he could concentrate the full force of his telekinetic powers, he thrust his hands forward, grasping each one of the rifles in the four men’s hands with his invisible grip. Then he flung his arms back. All of the rifles soared through the air, over his head, and then landed behind him on the stone floor.
Skip reached for his sidearm just as Dorange jumped from the top of the obelisk to the ground below and in front of the men. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the pistol sailing into the wall to his left, destroying the gun. Kevin and Bantyr reached for their sidearms as well. Dorange sent them flailing headlong into the wall to his right. Kevin hit first with a loud crack echoing from his head crashing into the wall. Bantyr soon followed with his back hitting the wall. Both men fell to the floor, Kevin unconscious and bleeding from the head, and Bantyr writhing in pain.
This is too easy, Dorange thought, smiling as he turned his attention to Skip, Chris, and the soldier. The soldier took off for Adrian, who was beyond Kevin and Bantyr another fifteen feet or so. At the same time, Skip and Chris bull-rushed Dorange with their daggers raised. Dorange stretched forth his left hand, catapulted Chris into one of the corner obelisks, and then caught Skip, freezing him in mid-stride. Chris fell to the floor in an unconscious heap. Dorange then reached out with his right hand and caught the soldier just as he was about to reach Adrian in an obvious attempt to free him. He raised the soldier from the ground and squeezed his fist as tight as he could. The solider flailed his legs in midair, clutching at his throat as Dorange squeezed the life out of him.
*****
Adrian sat helpless with his hands tied behind his back. He watched in horror as his brother and son were flung into the wall he rested against several feet in front of him. His brother fell to the floor, bleeding profusely from his head. He just hoped that he wasn’t dead. His son writhed in pain, most likely with a broken back. His eyes then darted to Skip and the soldier he didn’t recognize. The soldier made eye contact with him and began sprinting toward him just as Skip reached for his gun.
Dorange, however, managed to catch both Skip and the solider with his powerful telekinetic grip. Now, the soldier who had tried to rescue him hung in the air a few feet from him. His eyes were wild with fear as Dorange strangled the life out of him.
“No!” Adrian shrieked.
Dorange turned his head and looked at him with pleasure in his eyes. “Now watch everyone you care about so dearly die before your very eyes,” he seethed as he squeezed his hand tighter.
The soldier’s body went limp. Then Dorange released his fist, dropping the dead soldier to the ground.
The soldier’s head landed wit
h a crack on the cold stone floor. Dorange then turned his attention to Skip. “Now, it’s your turn,” he said as he levitated Skip into his waiting left hand. He caught Skip by the throat and began to squeeze.
“Stop!” Adrian yelled again.
But Dorange ignored him, seeming to enjoy the death of another person Adrian cared about by his own hand. Adrian looked around frantically for anything he could use to cut his ties. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bantyr stagger to his feet as his focus landed upon the dagger on the belt of the fallen soldier before him. He began scooting toward the dead soldier when he saw Bantyr pull his own dagger from his belt, his gaze focused on Dorange.
In obvious pain, Bantyr dragged his right leg as he did his best to bull-rush Dorange. Dorange was so focused on and basking in the pure delight of killing Skip that he failed to notice Bantyr.
Adrian managed to get to the dead soldier and turned his body so that his tied hands could retrieve the dagger from the dead man’s belt. Just as he released the dagger from the belt, he heard Bantyr scream, causing him to look up.
Bantyr tackled Dorange to the floor, causing Skip to fall to the floor, still conscious but choking for air. Bantyr rolled over on top of Dorange and jabbed the dagger into the side of his neck. Dorange yelped in pain as he grabbed Bantyr and threw him over his shoulders. Bantyr managed to pull something from Dorange’s belt just before he flew through the air, and before finally crashing into the center obelisk. The crash didn’t knock him out, but it caused more damage to his already injured back. He couldn’t move, but in his grasp was the handle of Dorange’s sword.
Dorange pulled the knife from his neck. Glowing gold drops of blood dripped from the knife to the floor and glistened from the wound in his neck. The wound began to heal itself instantly. Adrian was astonished. Dorange Gar was a transfigured being. But how? No wonder he was more powerful.
Dorange dropped the dagger to the floor and turned his vengeful gaze to Bantyr. He walked slowly toward him. Bantyr couldn’t move his legs. He tried with every ounce of strength he could muster to crawl away, with the hilt of the sword still clutched in his hand.
Adrian frantically used the dagger to cut away the ties. He needed to help his son, who was about to die at the hand of his lifelong enemy. Just as he cut the ties away, Dorange picked Bantyr up by the throat. Adrian jumped to his feet and approached Dorange from behind.
“Now it’s your turn,” Dorange said as he reared his free hand back in a fist and thrust it violently toward Bantyr’s chest.
Bantyr made eye contact with his father and flicked him the sword, causing Dorange to stop his fist just before it penetrated Bantyr’s chest. Still holding Bantyr, Dorange turned and looked just as Adrian caught the handle and extended the blade with the blue plasma energy snaking around it.
“No, it’s your turn,” Adrian said, slashing the sword directly for Dorange’s neck.
Dorange dropped Bantyr and tried to parry the attack, but it was too late. The blade sliced through his neck like a hot knife through butter. As he dropped to his knees, Dorange’s eyes looked at Adrian in defeat.
Adrian stood over Dorange as his head dropped off of his body and rolled to the side. His body fell forward, the base of his neck landing at Adrian’s feet, and the glowing gold liquid that pulsated through his veins ran out like a gushing river.
*****
Inside the King’s Chamber of the Great Pyramid of Giza, Egypt . . .
Within the Great Pyramid of Giza is a room of mystery and wonder. A room that has baffled archaeologists for years. Although its original purpose seems to be that of a tomb for a mighty Egyptian pharaoh, others have speculated that the King’s Chamber may have acted as a gateway to another world or realm.
This was the room Koroan lay in now. His mind weaved in and out of consciousness as he tried to gain his bearings to his surroundings. A loud ring echoed in his ears, causing his head to pound with intense pain. In the background, he could make out the faint cry of a child.
“Calum!” he cried, his eyes popping open as he sat up and pushed himself with his legs until his back collided with the stone wall of the room. The only light illuminating the room was the glow of the gold plate of Terrest, which lay on the stone floor about ten feet in front of him. Otherwise, it would have been completely dark. With Calum still crying, he surveyed the room. It seemed to be a rectangular room, roughly thirty-five feet by eighteen feet. There was a hole on one wall, possibly an airshaft, with another shaft on the opposite wall. In the corner of the room was a broken sarcophagus. Other than the sarcophagus, there were no other objects within the room.
Calum’s cries were getting louder, causing Koroan to search for his grandson. Suddenly, a bright, white light exploded into the room. Koroan had to place his forearm over his eyes to shield them from the glare. Calum stopped crying, and once Koroan’s eyes adjusted, he found himself staring into the eyes of a man, glowing in the white light. He held Calum in his arms and was adorned in a brilliant white robe tied together at the waist with a red sash. His feet were bare, floating about three feet from the floor.
The bearded man with short-cropped dark brown hair looked at Koroan like he was some sort of wounded animal. And for the first time, besides the fear Macaria caused within him, Koroan felt terrified. He tried to hide from the light, but there was no escaping its radiance. The fear immediately turned into rage, causing his eyes to glow red. Stretching out his hand, he tried to take Calum from the strange man. But nothing happened.
“Your abilities will not work against me,” the man said, his voice echoing loudly off of the walls.
“W-who are you?” Koroan asked, cowering.
“My name is John.”
“You!” Koroan cried with rage boiling to the surface. “Y-you are the man helping Adrian Palmer.”
“Yes, but now I have a new mission.”
Koroan jumped to his feet and tried to use his powers against John once again. John simply stretched his free hand out toward him and forced him to his knees. The power was overbearing, too much for Koroan to resist. “So you have come to kill me.”
“No, Koroan, I have a message for you.”
Koroan didn’t respond. He was speechless, a result of rage mixed with incomprehensible fear.
“You have spilled innocent blood,” John continued, “including the blood of your late wife. You have conspired with the evil one and denied the Holy Spirit. For this, there is no forgiveness. But know this, Koroan Chast, God chose your ancestors as the line that would bring forth the chosen one that I hold in my arms because of the potential for righteousness within your bloodline. And even though you may have forgotten and denied what it means to be good, you still have a choice to make. You can teach your grandson about the nobleness and goodness of his ancestors from which he has descended, or you can deny all that is holy, including your own flesh and blood.
“Do not deny your grandson the free agency to choose for himself - the light from the darkness.”
John then lowered himself and handed Koroan the child in his arms. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Koroan felt something for his grandson, something he had felt at one time for his daughters and even his own wife. That was, until power corrupted him. He felt an undying urge to protect his grandson, maybe even a hint of compassion - the seed of love.
John stood back up. “Remember, you have a choice.” And then he disappeared just as Macaria entered the King’s Chamber.
*****
“Who were you speaking to?” Macaria asked sharply, scowling.
“W-what? I-I was just trying to hail someone. What happened?” Koroan stammered.
Macaria held her tongue and just stared at Koroan. She could perceive that he was lying to her. “Who has a choice?” she asked, easing her tone a bit.
“Is that what I said?” Koroan quipped, doing his best to hide what was truly going on.
“Never mind,” Macaria said, waving a hand at him. There were more urgent matter
s to attend to rather than Koroan’s noticeable lack of conviction ever since she raised him from the dead. She then picked up the glowing plate from the floor and looked around. “I should have known.”
“Should have known what, my Queen?” Koroan questioned.
“I resided on this planet as a spirit for thousands of years. And in all that time, my master, me, and his fallen angels deceived man. We created false gods who they could worship. These gods were, in fact, the embodiment of the fallen angels from heaven . . . us. Despite our best efforts to keep them from the truth, their religions always had some seed of truth hidden in their monuments and within their ancient texts.
“Take the Egyptians, for instance; they worshipped the stars, believing their deities were the stars themselves. These pyramids,” she continued, pointing her finger around the room, “were aligned with three stars that make up Orion’s Belt.”
“Orion’s Belt?” Koroan questioned.
“Yes, that is where we will find Earth’s gold plate, not on this planet, but on another world far away.”
“But—”
Macaria held her hand up to keep Koroan silent as she walked to the sarcophagus and examined it. She placed the Terrest plate on the edge of the sarcophagus. As she did so, it began to glow even brighter. It also emitted a low-toned hum. She then pulled out a hexagonal device from her pocket - a holographic communicator. After pressing a few buttons, she said, “Dorange Gar. Come in, Dorange.”
After a few seconds, the distorted image of Dorange appeared, hovering above the holo-com.
*****
Underground Pyramid under the Pyramid of the Sun, Teotihuacan, Mexico . . .
Worlds Without End: The Prophecy (Book 3) Page 34