by Nathan Wall
The two blades shot out over his wrists. Jackson spun in place and slashed the left blade across Roland's throat as he charged in. John screamed, lunged forward, and jumped. Jackson stabbed both blades into John's belly, rolled backwards, and threw the limp body into the water. When he rose up, Maya was standing there in front of him.
“I was going to say you have lost a step, but that really would not do the downfall justice now, would it?” She smiled, whipping her massive, ankle length cloak in the air as she walked around the fire and toward Jackson who struggled to gasp for breath. “Calm yourself. I only wanted to see what you had left in reserve.”
“Why didn't you just kill me?” Jackson asked, panting. “You didn't need to have me kill innocent people.”
“Do not be too eager. That part will come.” Maya smiled, sliding her soft fingers gently across Jackson's rugged face. “I have already made the foolish mistake of underestimating your kind before. I will not do that again. I needed to see if you were that same dashing man who marched into my realm. Sadly, you are nothing of the sort.”
“Well, I'm sorry to disappoint.”
“For the first time in a while, I bet you actually are.” She sat down and gestured for Jackson to do the same. “Enjoying life as yourself...? Well, almost you, anyway.”
“It's not quite the joyous adventure it used to be.”
“It can be again.” The tone of her voice was smooth and sultry. Her eyes glowed orange as she looked deep inside Jackson's gaze. “I need a new and capable general. Care to be that man? It comes with certain... benefits.”
“I think I'll pass,” Jackson grunted, shaking off the feeling of lust that grew deep inside his loins. His heart quickened as he salivated for a taste of Maya's lips. He hunched over to the ground, digging his hands into the dirt and making fists. His body shivered. “I'd sooner cut my dick off.”
“That can be arranged.” Maya stood, extending her arm toward Jackson. Her fingers spread apart. “You've no idea how long it has taken me to find you, but the remaining portions of my master's starstone call out to me.”
The wrist pads over Jackson's forearms started to glow. He looked at Maya and his eyes seemed to split in two as the color of his pupils shifted several times and the formation of his rounded face switched back and forth to the more squared, muscular formation he'd grown to recognize over the past two years.
“Tell me where they are,” Maya said, walking up to Jackson and grabbing his face. She pulled him up to his feet and kissed him, sticking her tongue deep inside his mouth. Drool slid down his chin as she sucked on his lips. His arms wrapped around her back and he tilted his pelvis toward her. “Where are the girl and the other remake?”
“His home.” He smiled, bending down toward his backpack. He removed a folded map and unwound it. He pointed at the position on the map where Jarrod and Austin lived. “Are you happy?”
“Very.” She smiled, taking the map from his grasp.
“I can be your general.” Jackson fell to his knees, kissing Maya's hand. “To serve you and to know you is all that I ask.”
“You are far too weak to be useful.” She grabbed Jackson by the throat and lifted him. A bright, shining light emanated from her skin. Her cloak shifted into a gray and purple armor, wrapping around her body. Large wings expanded from her shoulder blades. She hovered into the air high above the tree line. “But I thank you for your service.”
She grabbed at his left wrist pad, but he jerked his arm away. The blade protruded out from over his right hand and he drove it in toward her stomach, but it splintered into dozens of pieces.
“Your weapons are far too frail for the power of a full starstone,” she laughed.
The purple and silver armor slowly stretched across Jackson's skin like a slow expanding river of molten rock. The feeling of a fire-doused blade seemed to rip up his spine. When the suit was formed, he swiped an uppercut across Maya's chin, freeing himself from her grasp.
He tumbled uncontrollably toward the tree line as his armor was too worn to form a wingsuit. He crashed through a treetop, snapping dozens of branches as he flipped and twirled, smashing through the pines before slamming into the ground. His skin felt like it was being slowly drained of all fluids while the aurascales dug in tighter to his skin, trying to stay alive.
“That was foolish,” Maya said, appearing behind Jackson.
He turned around and jabbed at her, but she grabbed his fist, crushing his fingers and knuckles in her grasp. She turned his arm end-over-end and slung him like a sack of potatoes into the large tree, shattering the trunk and toppling it over. She tugged harshly on his arm and pulled it from its socket. Skipping forward she drove the ball of her foot into his chest, sending him fifty yards through the air. Jackson bounced off the ground like a stone across water.
He stumbled to his feet with his arm dangling, useless at the side of his body. He propped himself off a tree and blocked Maya's right hook, but had no defense for the left cross that she pummeled into his face. He spun to his knees, with his back facing her, and looked up. The sun poked through the thick clouds before quickly being drowned out once again. He tried to stand, but she pushed down on both of his shoulders and shoved him back into the dirt.
She bent over and whispered into his ear. “You have heart. I will give you that.” Her fingers dug into his shoulders and absorbed the aurascales from Jackson's body into her own. “But I am of purer blood than you, and therefore, my claim to your power is stronger. I shall let your friends know of your heroic betrayal before I kill them.”
Jackson closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The cold air which nipped at his lips and nose was more freedom than he ever thought he'd live to see again. His heart slowed as his muscles relaxed. He smiled as her left hand slid over his forehead. She extended her right hand down and back. A shimmering light sizzled in the air. A large golden sword manifested. She pointed the tip of the blade to the back of his neck and slowly penetrated the blade into his flesh and through the other end. Blood slowly drizzled out and down the blade. She quickly pulled the sword back, holding his head by the hair. She let him go and Jackson's body fell to ground, shifting back to its original form.
Maya stepped away from the dead body and walked back toward the campfire. She grabbed the map once again and studied it. Large, trembling, pink clouds sprang out of nothingness and engulfed her, then collapsed once again into thin air, taking her with them.
* * *
“Wake up,” Argus yelled, leaning over Jarrod as he lay in bed. The ceiling cracked and the windows blew in, impaling his face with shards of glass. Argus pulled Jarrod out of the bed and slammed him through the floor down into the living room. Argus morphed into a full Minotaur as blood seeped from his eyes, mouth, and nose. He ground his teeth together and snarled once more. “You didn't think I'd be that easy, did you?”
“Leave me alone,” Jarrod yelled in a panic. His eyes and hands began to glow a faint bluish hue. He swiped a fist through Argus’ face and the beast disappeared.
Jarrod, it's okay, a voice rang out. Wake up.
Jarrod shot up, still in his bed. His fingers were wrapped tightly around Sanderson's throat, squeezing the color out of him. Aunt Liv stood in the doorway, frozen in shock. A shiver rushed down Jarrod’s spine and he came to his senses. He released Sanderson who fell to the floor, gasping for air.
“Sorry. It was zombies.” Jarrod took deep breaths, looking at the bedside table completely destroyed to his left. He rubbed his face and swung his legs off the bed, looking out the window. The footboard of the bed was also cracked down the middle from an errant kick. “It looks like it's going to be nice out for the parade.”
“I think you should stay home,” Aunt Liv said, helping Sanderson to his feet. “Your dreams are getting more vivid. We need to figure out what's wrong.”
“They're just dreams,” Jarrod said, looking over his shoulder and cutting his Aunt off. “I can handle them. It's not like anyone was hurt.”
“Just dreams?” Argus laughed in human form, leaning in the corner of the room. Charon stood next to him. Jarrod gave them a quick glance and then looked back out the window. “Oh fine, ignore me. I'm used to it.”
“You almost ripped out my larynx,” Sanderson coughed, rubbing his throat. “Your Aunt is right.”
“Thought she was my mom?” Jarrod asked, still not looking at them and snapped back. “Why don't you guys pick a reality that you want me to recognize and then stick with it?”
“Yeah the whole ‘Aunty-Mom’ thing is downright confusing,” Charon laughed, walking in between Aunt Liv and Sanderson. “Is she Sarah? Is she Olivia? All the while you just want to stick yourself inside your girlfriend for the first time.”
“Shut up,” Jarrod whispered.
“Because I don't like it that you almost ripped my throat off?” Sanderson shook his head, rubbing his hands together and then throwing them in the air. “Whatever. We've tried to make this work for nearly a month. Clearly it's not.”
“Oh, you think?” Argus rolled his eyes.
“Sweetie Pie.” Aunt Liv leaned across the bed to touch Jarrod's shoulder, but he jerked away. “Let me help.”
“By feeding me another heaping mouthful of lies?” Jarrod stood and looked at her. “No thanks. I'm finally getting some alone time with Claire. The three of us can talk later.”
“So he can bone.” Charon leaned into Aunt Liv from behind and thrust his hips. “Your girl know that all your squad-mates think you made a dishonest woman out of her?”
Jarrod picked a shirt and a pair of jeans off the floor and flung them on, buttoning them up as he walked out of the room. Sanderson stood in the middle of the hallway, blocking Jarrod's exit.
“We want to help.” Sanderson stepped from side to side, impeding Jarrod's progress. “You're going through a lot of changes. I've seen the withdrawal individuals experience when they haven’t been given another dose of the Double-Helix.”
“It's not that...” Jarrod shook his head.
“It's puberty.” Charon laughed, joking.
“I don't feel the withdrawal.” Jarrod briefly made eye contact with Sanderson. “I feel myself getting sucked further and further into something I can't explain.”
“You're a clone freak,” Argus said, breathing heavily into Jarrod's ear.
“I'm fine. I just need a break.” Jarrod pushed past Sanderson and walked down the stairs.
“Billy, what can we do?” Aunt Liv walked over to Sanderson, wrapping her arms around him. “All I've ever wanted to do was look out for him, but I've only managed to heap more pressure onto the wall and it might finally be cracking.”
“I don't know, Sarah.” Sanderson ran his fingers through her hair, closed his eyes, and took in the sweet cherry scent.
Jarrod started the car and thrust it into reverse. He adjusted the seat and the rearview mirror. Both Charon and Argus sat in the back. He turned around, looked past them and out the window as he backed out of the parking spot.
“You thought you had questions about who you were before you joined the military?” Charon laughed, leaning forward and pressing his nose next to Jarrod's. “Turns out you're a bigger freak than any of us. You're the ultimate remake... just one big fake.”
“Enough,” Jarrod yelled, closing his eyes. When he opened them, they were gone. “That's better.”
* * *
The multicolored autumn leaves danced about on the smooth two-lane street, staying in formation as they swirled in the air between two freshly painted solid yellow lines. Barber shops, dollar stores, and boutique parlors lined the streets with just enough parking out front to host only a few customers at a time. The sun streaked in through the puffy white clouds and the distant smells of home-cooked barbeque dominated the fresh, balmy air.
Lian, with her petite hand in Austin's firm grasp, hadn't yet gotten used to the scenery around her which evoked strong images from the novels Sanderson allowed her to read while growing up. Novels which, for the longest time, were her only glimpse into what a normal life should be.
Since traveling to the small central Texas town just three weeks ago, she hadn't yet shook the feeling of being on permanent vacation. Though it happened less frequently, Lian found herself always looking over her shoulder or intently at the reflection off of parked cars, waiting for black vans to rush up behind her and drag her away. There was nothing. No sign that she and the others were being missed.
“How about some freshly made hand-spun ice cream?” Austin asked, squeezing her hand as they approached a shop with a window open to the sidewalk.
It was a little early and chilly for such a treat. However, the sound of something fresh like that gave her the sense of little kids sitting on a farm, churning the ice, sugar, salt, and milk for hours on end. A far cry from the shipped-in crap she'd grown used to eating.
“That's a thing people really eat?” She smiled, nodding. She licked her lips and her eyes widened, looking over the cozy selection. “I guess the choices are vanilla bean or dark chocolate.”
“Not quite Pinkberry, but it's one of the best choices you'll ever be presented with.” Austin laughed and stuck up two fingers indicating to the young lady on the other side of the counter that he'd like a scoop of each. “I like them both and on waffle cones... which are also freshly made.”
“Sounds like a winner to me.” Lian rubbed his tender bicep and quickly looked over her shoulder. All that lined the streets were those making the last preparations for the town’s centennial parade and festival that was set to officially kick off later that day. She turned around and two large scoops of melting awesomeness were awaiting her. She took the cone from Austin and licked the scoops. “Oh. My. God.”
“I told you.” Austin nodded, slurping up his melting ice cream. “Simple, but divine.”
The two continued to stroll down Main Street, finally coming to the intersection of several other streets at the town square. In the middle of the oval city center was an old, whitewashed brick courthouse with a red shingled rooftop and a clock tower at the highest point. The streets were all taped off and small traffic cones lined the intersections as numerous shopping tents, barbecue pits, and even a dance floor, and stage were being set up.
The two of them strolled over to the stage and a band was in the midst of practicing. They were preparing for a sound check when Austin motioned the front man over to them.
“Do you guys know the song ‘Toes’?” he asked. They nodded and the singer waved his finger in the air. The band started playing and he grabbed Lian's hand. “Care to dance?”
“I don't know how,” she said, glowing pink. She bit her smile and looked at the ground.
“You don't have to. I do.” He put his finger under her chin and lifted her face. He slid his right hand down to her hip, wrapped his left hand around her right, and started swaying back and forth to the rhythm of the song. “Just read my mind.”
Lian's heart skipped a few beats as she clumsily stepped on his feet. After the first chorus, she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She closed her eyes and synced her mind with his, flowing seamlessly into three quick spins.
She twirled around and behind him. Their hands did a quick exchange before realigning to their default positions. He pulled her small frame into his much larger body as the bass from the speakers made its way through his chest and into her cheek. She took in a deep breath through her nose and committed the scent of his body to memory.
He slid backwards and she extended her arms. He pulled her back in, twirling her around, and slid her shoulder blades into his chest. He crossed his arms over in front of her and rocked back and forth. As the song came to an end he spun her back around and slid his right hand over her face, down her neck, and along her chest, stopping at her hip.
Her hand glided along his back and he grimaced. The claw marks still ached. She ignored it because he wanted her to.
“And you said you don't know how to dance.” He smiled, bending o
ver and pressing his forehead to hers. Her dark, piercing eyes slowly opened, as if echoing the smile insider her chest. He whispered, “I can tell you had fun.”
“How'd you learn to dance like that?” she asked.
“I think you can probably tell me the answer.” He slowly stepped back from her and waved at the band, thanking them for the song.
He sat down on the top of a picnic table and hunched over, resting his arms on his knees. The sun poked through the clouds again, landing perfectly on his square face and sand-colored hair. He squinted and watched her through the corner of his eyes.
She stood next to him and rubbed his left shoulder, then glided her fingers over the large, oozing claw marks on his back, able to feel them through his thick shirt.
“Sometimes I just like hearing the answer rather than searching for it,” she whispered, resting her chin on his shoulder. “You don't have to if you don't want to. I mean, it's not like I'd be jealous of the girl who taught you.”
“Jealous of my mom?” he laughed, tilting to his left and giving her an awkward look.
“Your mom taught you?” She smiled. “That's pretty awesome.”
“I used to always fight her on it.” He shook his head, looking at the cracked asphalt. “I swore I'd never use the skills, but she kept telling me one day the moves would come in handy.”
“I think she was right.”
“It's... just a shame she'll never know it.” He sighed, swallowing. Lian wrapped her arm tightly around his shoulders and drew him in for a prolonged hug. The soft, yet stern breeze washed over her face. He lifted his nose into the air and then rested his forehead on her chest. “I'm glad you're here.”
“Me too,” Lian said, quickly whipping around to look at a few kids slam the doors of their black SUV as they piled out and rushed into a store. She shook her face and took a deep breath. “Me too.”