Akasha 4 - Earth

by Terra Harmony

  I backed away until I bumped into another body. I turned, sweeping my leg wide and catching the person behind his knees. His body hit the ground. This one I did recognize.

  I dug my knee into his throat, pinning the rest of his upper body down with my other leg. "Where’s Micah?!"

  He bucked, but was a relatively small man. There wasn't much to him, as far as muscle went. I barely shifted.

  I pressed further. "Where. Is. Micah?" I asked again, through gritted teeth.

  Fast-moving footsteps came up on my right, and I didn't have time to respond. The blunt force to my midsection stole my breath. I landed on my back; my head bouncing off the hard ground. Stars above me swayed with my vision. I turned to the side to see my backpack laying several feet away. The damn thing was having trouble staying on my back.

  The man in a suit came into view, along with another. They hauled me to my feet.

  I held my sides, recovering my breath, eying the men as I did so. Pressed suits and shiny shoes. They looked far too good to have been tromping around in the wild. "Men's Wearhouse is still in business, I see."

  The small man, the one I’d leveled, laughed. "You must be Kaitlyn."

  I nodded my head down, once. "Mr. President."

  Chapter 4

  The List

  Shawn stood in the brackish water of the Great Salt Lake, looking down. His reflection was eerily still. There were no waves, no plants, and no playful fish. Practically the only life in the salty water was brine shrimp.

  Shawn looked beyond the lake at the terrain, licking his cracked lips. Everything was so dry here. His throat had been parched ever since they crossed the Wasatch Range several months ago. He turned to his right, scanning the extension of the Rocky Mountains. They were hazy. "Why the heck did the Mormons stop here?"

  "Sir?" asked Shawn's first in command, David, startled from his bookkeeping.

  "Never mind," Shawn mumbled, returning the few feet to the shore. "Did you rotate the perimeter sentry groups?"

  "Yes. Replacements were sent out this morning, but it usually takes a full day to complete the rotation. We should see the last group coming in around sunset." David snapped his ledger shut and followed Shawn. "Where do you want them?"

  Shawn stopped, bent down and unrolled his pants. "Give them two days of rest, then put them on supply duty. We'll run out of batteries by the end of the month. I know these Mormons stockpile like the world is about to end."

  "It kind of already did," David mumbled.

  Shawn arched his eyebrow at him.

  "I mean…yes, sir." David reopened the book and scribbled a note.

  "Don't call me sir." Shawn resumed walking, making quick work of the sandy dunes.

  "Yes, S— Shawn." David's feet kept sinking in, making it hard to keep up with Shawn.

  "And find me some damn chapstick."

  David wrote another note. "I'll check with supply, sir."

  Shawn stopped, and was about to turn around when one of their own came riding down the road on his bicycle, waving an arm. "They're back! The mission to Easter Island – a success!"

  Shawn raised his eyebrows in surprise. After more than a year, he had written off the mission. Shawn and David collected their own bikes, spray painted black, as were all the bikes with One Less, and continued on to headquarters.

  "I wish we had horses," David huffed alongside Shawn. He had to stand, putting more force on the pedals in order to keep pace with Shawn on the uphill.

  "We did," Shawn replied. "They got eaten."

  They soon reached their camp on Antelope Island, in the middle of the Great Salt Lake, where they had set up after the show down at Mammoth Cave. Here, Shawn could run his business in relative peace while still being close enough to Salt Lake City to procure any supplies they needed.

  A group of four sat in the middle of the camp, barely recognizable from when Shawn last saw them. They were much thinner, and either had too much or too little hair.

  "Where's the fifth?" Shawn asked, approaching the group.

  They all hopped to their feet.

  The one with a beard hanging past his chin, spoke up, "Went overboard in the Pacific."

  Another coughed.

  There was probably more to the story but Shawn didn't care to hear it. "And the bodies?"

  "Delivered."

  Kaitlyn's Akasha had caused plenty of casualties; some on her side. Her infamous black-braided friend was one of them. The body of Ahi, along with those of several fellow Easter Islanders, had been collected before The Seven could claim them.

  Shawn crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "I'll know if you're lying to me."

  One of the women walked up to Shawn and placed a bag in his hands.

  He opened it and several rocks fell out into his palm.

  "Hardened lava from the caves," she explained.

  Shawn closed his fist around the rocks, squeezing. Energy emanated from the rocks, causing his whole arm to tingle. He nodded, put the rocks back in the bag and asked, "Anything else?"

  "There's more in our trailer." The man gestured to a homemade, two-wheeled contraption hitched to the back of a well-used bike.

  Shawn nodded but didn't inspect. "What did they do with the bodies?"

  Procuring the formaldehyde and finding someone that could embalm the bodies had taken time and resources One Less could have put to better use elsewhere, but Shawn had a list. A list that Ahi herself said must be addressed before Shawn could obtain Akasha. Shawn figured the best he could do to make amends was send the bodies back to their homeland so they could be honored in whatever traditions the islanders had.

  "Burned the three Fires, gave the Air a sky funeral."

  Shawn snorted. "We could've done that."

  "Made us stay until the body had been picked clean by birds." The hairy man laughed. "The next morning I found a dozen dead seagulls on the shore. I tried to tell them about the formaldehyde, but they insisted."

  Shawn laughed with him.

  David stepped up. "Where do you want them? We could use a few more on kitchen duty."

  The group groaned.

  "Get them checked out by the doc first." Shawn turned to the group. "Then to the kitchens for the next month. The work isn't very physical and you get first dibs on food. You all could use it." As Shawn turned to walk away he nodded toward the hairy man. "Except you – you're with me."

  The man followed.

  "You were new to One Less – right before Mammoth Cave, if I remember. What was your name?"

  "Clay." The hairy man had to crane his neck all the way back to look at Shawn.

  "That's right. The Earth." Shawn turned to make sure they were far enough from the group. "I'm going into town on a few errands. I could use an Earth. You in?" Shawn asked.

  Clay bent down, picked up a handful of dirt and sniffed it. "Not good soil; have you managed to grow much here?"

  Shawn smiled. "We've learned a few tricks. So, what do you say?"

  "My butt may not be able to handle the bike seat so soon."

  Shawn laughed. "We're not going until next week. Until then, try to stay off the bike." Shawn slapped Clay hard on the back and left, barking more orders at David.

  Clay watched them walk away, swatting at the gnats that apparently found his beard irresistible. Despite the dry heat, and the undesirable human company, Clay liked it here. He felt at home with the bitter smell of salt in the air, so thick you could almost taste it. Clay had been one of a few chosen to infiltrate One Less during the battle at Mammoth Cave. It was easy enough in the aftermath of the blast, but he had had no chance to let Kaitlyn or Susan know he survived.

  Then he'd been chosen for the Easter Island mission. It took them a year and a half to deliver the bodies and make their way home, much of it done over water. After losing his sister during the battle, he didn't much care what happened to him. But several months on the water was pure torture; claustrophobic, even – at least for an Earth.

  Clay walked closer to
the adobe buildings at Fielding Garr Ranch. It at least had a freshwater spring. But being in camp less than a day, Clay had already heard rumors it was close to drying up. The Waters were all worked up about it. Clay walked past the water storage area, flipping open drains on the large barrels.

  There was no way The Seven was going to make it past Shawn's fortified seven mile narrow causeway leading onto the island. Clay would just have to force One Less to migrate off the island, and animals always followed fresh water.

  Chapter 5

  Good Cover

  "Micah isn't here – he's gone ahead, to clear the path for you."

  "Clear the path to where?" I asked, ducking automatically as another boom sounded off in the distance.

  "To Shawn."

  The President's words rang through my head, merging with the percussion of the blast, still bouncing around in my brain. My head felt like it was about to explode.

  "Sir – I must insist we get moving." The Secret Service agent's words barely registered. I couldn't snap out of my shock until I saw the President's back, and my only link to Micah, disappearing into the smoke and flames. I ran after him.

  The three Secret Service agents that surrounded him glanced back, but ultimately ignored me. Apparently I wasn't the biggest threat out here. Now that was a scary notion.

  Another blast, closer this time, shook the ground.

  "What is it?" I asked.

  All four men were already breathing hard. Over a year underground would do that to you.

  "Had a security breach," said the President. "It was an insider – he has bombs rigged to go off all over the place."

  I shivered, thinking of how close we had come to entering the facility. We might have set one off ourselves. I thought of Bee and Susan, slowing down, debating if I should change my route and head for the hotel. Alex would've gone for them. That was our hard and fast rule whenever the three of us were separated. The closest to Bee go for her while the other eliminates the threat. The President wasn't the threat, but he could lead me to Micah. One thing at a time.

  "Shawn is in Utah – Antelope Island, according to our reports. We have no reason to think he will leave anytime soon," the President spoke to me, stopping his forward momentum.

  "Sir, please." One of the secret service agents pulled on his arm.

  The President ignored him. "Take the rivers. Ohio, Mississippi, Missouri, Platte. Micah is drawing One Less away from the path as he goes."

  "Sorry – we cannot wait any longer," stated the agent. He hooked his arm under the President's armpit. Another copied on the other side. The President's toes barely touched the ground.

  "Oh, for Pete's sake – put me down!"

  The President's orders were ignored. He looked at me over his shoulder. "Ohio, Mississippi, Missouri, Platte!"

  "Upper or lower Platte?" I yelled back.

  A series of bullets, aimed at the ground just in front of me, was my only answer. The agent's message was clear, our conversation was over.

  I threw up my hands. No argument there – I had better things to get to…like Bee.

  "Ohio, Mississippi, Missouri, Platte," I told myself as I shifted directions and ran for the hotel. Sink holes were everywhere, many of them spewing flames and smoke. "Ohio." I leaped over a fallen tree. "Mississippi." I darted around a wall of fire, using water and air to battle it back. "Missouri." I fell to the ground, flattening my body as debris from another blast flew just over my head. The taste of burnt grass and wet earth filled my mouth. I spit. "Platte."

  Eliminate the threat – that was my job. But there were no people; just a lot of explosions and fire. What was I going to do, take away oxygen? I paused before picking myself off the ground. I'd battled wildfires before, and used energy to fix oxygen levels. I just might be able to contain the entire area – and stop the blasts. But to what end? Who was the security breach? Briefly, I wondered if it was me. Maybe the perimeter alarms weren't all turned off, like Alex said. I shrugged.

  Better to let the attack continue. Flames are good cover.

  After an hour of running a convoluted route, I sat in a treetop studying the hotel. It was still intact. People milled about on the lawn, chattering about the explosions. I couldn't tell if Susan was one of them. They all held candles – the lucky few with working batteries had flashlights.

  I turned the other direction, toward the bunker, or what was left of it, to search for potential followers. My binoculars would've come in handy, but I had left them in my bag, halfway down the tree.

  Now, we wait.

  Every few minutes I called out, the shrill whoit, whoit, whoit whistle imitating a Cardinal. It had taken Alex two months to teach me that. Bee learned it before I did. I waited each time for the response, but got nothing.

  Where are they?

  Images of One Less snatching up Bee assaulted me. I shook my head.

  Don't do that; not yet.

  I whistled again. Still no response.

  That does it.

  I worked my way down the tree, as silently as possible. It was difficult, considering I had to go back up for my forgotten backpack. When I hit the ground for a second time, cursing about the bag being the death of me, a noise made me jump.

  "Kaitlyn!"

  "Argh!" I yelled, then clamped my hand over my mouth and ducked down.

  The bushes shook and Alex whisper-shouted, "Unless you're using the bathroom, quit squatting and get over here."

  I crawled over, cracking twigs as I went.

  Once I joined him under the bush he said, "You'd make a terrible sniper."

  "I'm more of a machine-gun type of girl." I looked around. "Where's Bee?"

  "She's safe with Susan, hiding about two clicks away."

  "I told you before, I don't know what in the hell a 'click' is."

  He rolled his eyes. "They’re a little over a mile, further south from here."

  I popped my head out, looking in that direction as if I could see them.

  Alex pulled me back down. "You were being trailed."

  "One Less or Secret Service?"

  He furrowed his eyebrows, confused. "I'm not sure. I had to circle a few times to be sure of their position."

  Ah, so he was using me as bait while I whistled away like a jackass.

  "Come on, they've dug in around you but we should be able to get out this way." He headed north.

  "But Susan and Bee are south," I said.

  "We'll make a loop – now, no more talking until I say. And step where I step."

  I nodded, moved forward, and my heavy foot landed directly on a dried up pinecone. Alex paused to turn back and look at me with a raised eyebrow. I shooed him on, annoyed enough with myself for the both of us.

  As we walked, adrenaline wore off and fatigue set in. I fought to keep my eyes open and fixed in between his shoulder blades. After another hour, things were beginning to get hazy. If I wasn't careful, I was going to run straight into a tree. That definitely wouldn't be very sniper-like.

  Clouds moved in, covering the moon and extinguishing the only light we had. I lost him in a matter of seconds. "Alex?"

  "Over here," he called.

  I followed the voice to a row of trees and breathed a sigh of relief when I could make out his silhouette.

  "There." He gestured to a clearing with a nod of his head.

  The clouds dissipated and what probably used to be a well-maintained property came into view. The house was a shell, the upper floors burnt down. We'd been in houses like that before. Probably nothing remained. People got crafty when they became desperate. I'd seen pieces of staircase banisters whittled into weapons and copper piping and shower drains used in a homemade – literally – water filtration system.

  "Not the house," Alex said. "The shed."

  My eyes drifted to the edge of the yard. There was a small shack covered in vines. "You left them in there?" I squeaked, emerging from our hidden spot.

  Alex followed me into the clearing. "What's the matter?"
>
  "You know," I hissed, looking at him over my shoulder. "Spiders."

  "You just ran through an exploding hillside, and you're worried about spiders?"

  "Black widows can be deadly to a two-year-old."

  Alex moved ahead, and pushed open the doors to the shed. I shoved him aside. Susan sat in the middle of the floor, cross-legged with Bee lying in her lap. I knelt before them, holding one hand to Bee's chest and the other just in front of her mouth.

  "She's breathing," I announced.

  "You look surprised." Susan glared at me.

  I hugged her. "Thank you."

  I felt her shoulders relax, and I released her. I leaned back on my heels and looked around. Completely bare – even the shelves had been pilfered.

  "I found something. Here, hold Bee," Susan said to me.

  Susan shooed both me and Alex back to reveal a trap door in the floor. Dust and grime covered the edges. Susan stuck her finger in a knot in a floorboard and pulled up. A staircase led down. Alex went first, disappearing into the dark.

  "It's ok!" he shouted up.

  Susan went next, and I followed with Bee, snoring away in my arms.

  "Oh my God," Alex said, voice cracking into a higher octave. "There are batteries." In the pitch black, I heard him fumbling around, then a beam of light shot through the underground storage area.

  Alex aimed the flashlight at the walls. Floor to ceiling shelves were stocked full of supplies. The image danced in front of our eyes like some glorious revelation. Canned foods, medical supplies, camping equipment, and lots and lots of batteries.

  I rushed to one of the shelves. "Soap!" I could've danced a jig just then, if it weren't for the sleeping baby. I turned to Susan. "Well, is this all you found?" I asked with a teasing smile.

  "No. There is also that." She pointed up.

  I craned my neck, looking back up the steep staircase to the ceiling of the shed. Alex pointed his light up and my mouth dropped open. A canoe hung from the rafters.