by RJ Johnson
The torture had been painful. The beatings had started a few hours ago, and only stopped when they had decided to round up their prisoners and burn them for sport.
Seamus was in a lot of physical pain, but it was nothing compared to how he felt when he thought about what might happen to his sister without him. He swore to himself that after he was dead, he’d be her guardian angel.
Another vicious kick to his head, and lights exploded in his skull. He laughed. It didn’t matter how much they hurt him now. He was free.
“What? Did they invite me mother to take a shot or two?” Seamus called out weakly, “I’ve got a few bumps and bruises, but I’ll still gladly take you to task if you want to try and be a man.”
The soldiers sneered and laughed, and began to kick him even harder. Seamus curled up in a ball, hoping it would all be over soon. After the last kick, Seamus rolled on his back, coughing violently, as blood poured out of his mouth and nose. He stared at the stars, watching them go in and out of focus. He could just barely make out The Hunter, the first constellation he taught Siobhan when she was old enough to learn.
Suddenly, screams began echoing across the camp, and a large dark figure flew over Seamus’ vision. Through watery eyes he stared at the sky, unable to turn and see what was happening. The screams of pain, the shouts of anger and fear; he just didn’t care anymore.
He wondered for a moment if there were stars in the afterlife.
The dragon that had descended on the English camp didn’t give any of them much of a chance. The mythical beast used its massive claws to tear the English soldiers stupid enough to hang around in half. Fire exploded out of the dragon’s snout as the entire campground was bathed in flames. Many of the soldiers retreated in fear, and the rest were torn and shredded to tiny bits of flesh. Before long, there was nothing left alive in the camp save for the beaten and bound Irish prisoners.
The dragon landed heavily on the ground of the camp. Siobhan quickly returned to her human form and raced over to Seamus, hoping against hope that he was still alive.
“Siobhan,” he said weakly, smiling at his little sister crouched over him, “you’re alive. That’s good. That’s very good.”
His head fell down into her lap, and then he was gone.
She grabbed his head and cradled it in her arms as she wailed, the valley echoing with her cries. Her brother, the only family she had left, was gone. She had been too late.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Alex and Scott sat wide eyed as Siobhan finished her tale. Scott cleared his throat and looked away. Alex pretended not to notice his friend wipe away a tear.
“You were only eleven?” Scott asked in a small voice.
“Young age to have to grow up so quick,” Siobhan replied sadly.
“It’s a tough world out there…it can wear on you quick…” Alex said, thinking of Emily, “if you let it.”
Siobhan looked out the window and continued her story.
“I traveled the world after that. I shifted my form countless times, witnessing history as it occurred.
“I was there on Columbus’s maiden voyage, a fly on the wall of Parliament during some of the most controversial first days, I watched as the Declaration of Independence was signed, stood guard over the Treaty of Versailles, and watched from the stratosphere as the first atomic bomb exploded over New Mexico.”
“There isn’t much you’ve missed, then, is there?” Scott asked dryly.
“It’s been so long since I was given the stone, I don’t think I could honestly tell you where my life began, or ends. I’ve known hundreds of lovers, famous men, civilized men, barbarians, and strangers. It’s a weird wonderful world out there, and I’ve loved every moment of it.”
“The English who destroyed your town, they never found you?” Alex asked.
She smiled knowingly, “I destroyed most of them in the initial attack. Eventually, I found them all, and they all joined their friends over the cliffs by my small seaside town.”
Alex shivered; Siobhan must have ice running through her veins, if at eleven, she was capable of killing her parent’s murderers.
He turned, looking at the speedometer on the Hypertruck. 126 miles an hour, and only a few hours away from their destination.
“It’s late.” Alex yawned. “We need some shut-eye while we can. Scott, you’ll babysit the controls overnight, right?”
Scott bristled at the suggestion. “Automatic pilot is on and running, dude; there’s no need for…”
“Just humor me, all right?” Alex interrupted. Turning back to Siobhan, he smiled. “Thanks for helping us out tonight.”
“Understand that you and I are only temporary allies while I still judge if you’re worthy of hanging onto that stone.” Her purple stone, dangling from her ear, flashed. “I get the feeling or idea you’re out to screw me and take my stone, and I will cut you up quicker than a butcher on Sunday.”
Scott frowned, leaning his head back to Siobhan. “Quicker than a butcher on Sunday? What does that even mean?”
She was looking intently at Alex, but Scott’s question distracted her. “What? No, it’s just an expression…”
“I mean, who’s to say that Sunday is any busier of a day for a butcher than any other?” Scott asked. “It’s just as likely that my family would want a nice set of ribs on Tuesday, as opposed to Sunday….although, I guess I can see buying stuff for a bar-be-que on Friday, for a Saturday or Sunday thing or whatever…”
“Scott!” Alex interjected; if he didn’t stop his friend now, he’d probably go on all night.
Scott nodded thoughtfully before continuing.
“Best Bar-be-que has to be ribs, no doubt, with a nice heaping helping of homemade sauce…”
“Scott! Seriously, shut up!”
“But…”
Alex lost it. “Get this kid some food! Anything to let me sleep, for Pete’s sake!”
Sulking, Scott turned back to the controls. “I’m hungry. Can’t a guy talk about food without getting yelled at?”
“SHUT UP!” This time, Siobhan got in on the action, her face transforming for a moment into a lion’s head that roared in Scott’s yammering face.
Scott swallowed nervously, “I’ll be good. A few hours to Hat Creek; I’ll, uhh…get something there.”
Primly, Siobhan’s face transformed back into the beautiful blonde with thick curls, as Scott settled back into his chair. “Excellent,” she said, “because I’m getting hungry too, and there’d be little point to my eating you while you’re still hungry.”
Alex couldn’t keep himself from laughing at Scott as the Hypertruck flew north, alone on the dark highway.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Geoffrey cried out, pushing with every ounce of strength available, trying to move the huge column off his arm. It was no use. The column was simply too massive to budge.
Kline’s frustrated bodyguard raised his head and stared intently at the rest of his trapped body, checking for damage and anything he could possibly use to escape. Incredibly, with the exception of his trapped appendage, his body felt intact. Even the bruises on his chest, received earlier that night under his bulletproof vest, were no longer throbbing.
Looking around, he swore out loud. Again, he had failed Mr. Kline and lost the man from the desert. The anger bubbled up and covered the pain from the immense weight on his arm.
He turned his body and methodically began looking for a way to free himself. The bone didn't feel broken, thankfully; he was just pinned. He positioned himself closer to the column, bracing his feet against the ground. Though he pushed with all his strength, the marble column barely moved, and his arm throbbed as he cried out in pain. With his heart pounding, he forced himself to calm down to think his situation through.
The experience with McCray’s mysterious stone repeated over and over in his mind’s eye. If Geoffrey managed to escape, things were going to be different between Kline and him. There was something much bigger going on, and Geoffrey
was beginning to understand that Kline had a much larger goal in mind than he had previously thought.
He glanced at the Suburban the team had brought with them from Joshua Tree. The heavy SUV was tipping precariously to one side, a result of having both of the tires on its right side shot out. Squinting, Geoffrey sighed and laid his head back on the cold concrete ground. He was unable to contain his growing respect for the young Alex McCray. Geoffrey struggled to think of how he might get himself free before the police could show up. In the distance, several red and blue lights twinkled, and the faint sound of a police siren began to ring in Geoffrey’ ears. He shifted his weight and attempted to make himself more comfortable.
He could afford to wait for the authorities, he thought. They’d likely take him into custody, barrage him with a series of questions – to which, of course, he would say nothing, confident that at any moment, Kline would send an army of lawyers to his defense. He wouldn’t have to suffer the indignity of jail for long.
Despite the temporary setback, Geoffrey began to smile, his confidence returning. Things were never so bad as they looked.
The beat of helicopter blades against the night sky had been thrumming for quite some time, and while he had only been distantly aware of it when he first came to, there was no way to miss the sound of the approaching engine now.
Geoffrey looked up and expected to see a police helicopter, or SWAT vehicle, landing in the university’s quad, but instead was surprised to see that the heavy flying machine was one of Kline’s expensive birds.
The door opened, and Kline emerged, surveying the scene of destruction in front of him. Jumping down from the cabin, Kline walked casually over to Geoffrey and stood clucking his tongue sadly.
“So, Mr. Tate,” Kline began civilly, “I see you’ve got yourself in quite a pickle here.”
Geoffrey swallowed. Rupert Kline was the last man on Earth he expected to see, and when conversations about your screw ups began quietly with Kline, they never ended well.
“Sir, there’s so much I…I can explain.” Geoffrey stammered, scared for his life. He was trapped, there would be no escape, and Kline was here to finish him personally. “I have to tell you what I saw, please! It’s not my fault!”
“Quiet, you idiot!” Kline hissed, leaning down to Geoffrey’ face. “You want anyone hearing us?”
“What?” Geoffrey asked, bewildered.
“Keep your mouth shut like a good little soldier,” Kline replied kindly, “and I’ll get you out of here, but you need to look like you’re working to help me move this column. All right?”
Geoffrey, completely flummoxed, shut his mouth and repositioned himself against the white marble, pushing with every ounce of strength available.
Kline, using one hand, lifted the two-ton piece of rock quite easily, and quickly freed his assistant.
Geoffrey rolled out from under the column, moving quickly as Kline casually dropped the mammoth weight. The loud thud of marble and concrete reverberated against the University walls. Geoffrey swallowed, his eyes widening at his boss’s display of strength. He had seen demonstrations of his boss’s power in the past, but nothing had prepared him to see a frail, thin-looking man easily toss around a two-ton Greek Column as if it were a child’s toy.
“Sir, I…”
“I told you to stay quiet. Get in the helicopter, and I’ll explain everything”
Geoffrey nodded, and holding his wounded arm, he walked slowly over to the helicopter. Following behind him, Kline stopped and looked out one last time for any possible witnesses. The blades spun back up, and the helicopter took off.
Kline took the phone off the wall inside the cabin. “Back to Joshua Tree, please.”
The helicopter rose off the ground, tilting forward as it gathered speed, and moved quickly back towards the vast deserts of Southern California.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Alex’s head bobbed up and down, his head falling victim to gravity as the Hypertruck purred over the California concrete that connected north to south. Drool hung precariously from his lower lip, threatening to drop onto his shirt, as dawn began to break over the California foothills. He was dreaming again. But instead of the pleasant memories of their first meeting, it was the nightmare of seeing her for the last time.
She would be home at any minute. No way would she guess what he was about to do. Alex had felt like a spy, buying the ring late last night at a jewelry store down the block. Every night now for the last two weeks, Alex had told his girlfriend that he was going out for a jog. It had been true, to a point. Each night, Alex jogged his way down to the jewelry store, nervously examining ring after ring until he had found the perfect one. Finally last night, he had. He opened the box for what felt like the millionth time and examined the precious ring once again. Three stones, and a grand total of two and a half carats. He smiled, thinking of her reaction, and then swallowed nervously as he realized what he was about to do.
Checking his watch again, Alex looked outside at the empty driveway. She was late, but that was to be expected. Her job interview was today.
Alex checked his hair in the mirror once again and buttoned, then unbuttoned his shirt collar.
“Pull yourself together, you idiot,” he muttered to himself. Definitely unbuttoned, he decided.
With one crisis avoided, Alex smiled at himself in the mirror and winked. He moved quickly towards the kitchen and opened the oven, checking on the homemade lasagna he had made from scratch. It was her favorite meal. Tonight was going to be perfect.
The garage opened. Alex looked up, smiling. She was home.
“Showtime,” Alex said to no one. Waiting in the kitchen, he attempted to lean casually against the counter, wanting to appear easygoing. He repositioned himself several times, then jumped as the door opened.
“What on earth are you doing?” Emily asked, dropping her bag quickly on the floor by the door.
“Just hanging out,” Alex attempted. He smiled broadly, “Hey, lady, how’d the interview go?”
Her face grew serious. “I didn’t get the job.”
Alex’s face fell. Perhaps tonight was not the night after all.
“I’m so sorry, hun,” Alex said comfortingly, “I know it was your dream to help ET phone home up in Berkley with those Search for Extraterrestial Intelligence people, but there are other things…”
“They offered me a better job,” Emily finished.
Alex cocked his head, “I don’t understand, what’s with all the ‘sad panda,’ then?” He put his arm around her. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you and I can…”
“The job’s in Chile, Alex. I’d have to move, live, and work in the Chilean Mountains overseeing the Atacama Large Millimeter Array.” She sat down on the couch, and motioned for Alex to follow her.
“That’s awesome…” Alex said, his voice trailing off and betraying how he really felt about it.
She looked up at him guiltily. “I took the job.”
All his life, Alex had never understood the expression ‘you’d better sit down for this,’ until now, anyway.
He swallowed and sat down opposite her on the couch. Withdrawing something from his pocket, he placed a small black box in between them.
“That what I think it is?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah...” Alex’s voice rang hollow in his head. Things were happening too quickly for him to process.
“I’ve never wanted to get married, Alex. You know that.”
“I thought, after today, with the new job and all…”
“That what, Alex?” she challenged. “That I’d suddenly change every principle I’ve held since I watched my father tear our family apart in a bitter divorce?”
“That maybe you’d give me a shot!” Alex shot back angrily. “I’m not the one running off to Chile for some random job.”
“I’ll be watching Quasars, discovering planets, deciphering the real mysteries of the universe!” she shot back. “What have you done with your life, Alex?�
� She got up off the couch and stalked off towards her bedroom, leaving one cheap shot behind: “Except live off your Mom’s trust fund!”
Alex felt himself go cold. Emily was tired and angry after her long day, and he was tired of her always being so tired and angry.
“Enjoy Chile, babe,” Alex called up the stairs as he stood and walked out the door.
A few more flashes of memory splayed themselves across Alex’s dream in intense detail. The trip to the local liquor store, waking in a pile of his own sick in front of a recruiter’s office, hearing Emily’s snide voice echoing in his head, telling him what a loser he was, asking what had he ever done or accomplished in his life.
Suddenly, a particularly rough patch of road jarred the Hypertruck, shaking Alex awake and out of his nightmare. He opened his eyes, watching the road in confusion. The Hypertruck was approaching the rear of a large semi quickly, and their vehicle was showing no signs of slowing down. Alex, his eyes still only half open, looked to Scott, who was supposed to be driving their vehicle.
Watching the semi approach at an alarming speed, Alex called out to his sleeping friend, “Hey, Scott.”
No response, only a snore from his longtime friend. Alex leaned over and looked at the Truck’s speed. They were going well over 100 miles an hour, and the truck ahead of them was going 75 miles an hour at the maximum. At the two different rates of speed, no matter how tough and advanced Scott’s Hypertruck was, physics would make sure they ended up a smear on the rear end of the larger truck’s trailer hitch if they didn't move to one side.
Alex’s muscles tensed up as they approached the truck from the rear. His experience with the autopilot last night had taught him to expect a rapid lane change to get around the slower moving truck.