The crowd gasped in awe and then clapped in excitement.
“Yes, shields are rarely given to agents,” continued Director Hicks. Zoey could see two silver metal badges in his hands.
“The shield is given to an individual as a mark of honor. It denotes heroism and outstanding service to the Agencies.”
He puffed out his enormous chest proudly. “The first Shield of Valor goes to—Agent Franken.”
The crowd clapped, and Agent Franken waddled up to the platform in his Hazmat suit. Someone had planted a red bow on his back. He faced Director Hicks with the tiniest of smiles.
“Agent Franken,” said Director Hicks, “I applaud you for your dedication and service to the Agencies. It is with great honor that I award you with the Shield of Valor for conjuring up the antidote that saved our mirror-ports and our borders. We are lucky to have such a scientist in our Hive and in our family.”
He reached over and pinned a silver shield to Agent Franken’s chest. Agent Franken beamed, and his face gradually reddened as the crowd clapped louder and cheered him on.
Zoey leaned closer to her friends. “There’s still time to back out, you know—”
“I’m not backing out,” said Tristan.
“We’re in this together,” agreed Simon.
Zoey watched her friends for a moment and said nothing. She watched Agent Franken make his way awkwardly down the platform. He looked less like an honored agent and more like an astronaut walking on the moon.
Director Hicks cleared his throat. “And now, our second Shield of Valor is awarded to a young girl who’s shown the Agency great devotion and undying courage. This young girl put her own life at risk to save all of us. Zoey St. John, please come forward.”
The crowed turned around, searching for Zoey.
Director Hicks raised his voice. “Zoey? Zoey St. John?” His smiled faded. “Has anyone seen Zoey St. John?”
The crowd searched for Zoey, but she and her friends had disappeared.
Chapter 22
To the Rescue
Zoey, Tristan, and Simon stood behind a large stone wall.
They listened and waited. Zoey poked her head out carefully and looked around.
“How many are there?” whispered Simon.
“Two guards,” answered Zoey.
She looked at Tristan. “You still want to do this?”
Tristan clenched his jaw, and a thick vein throbbed on his forehead like he was having a massive migraine. He had been silent since they had arrived, and Zoey wished she knew what he was thinking.
“I’m doing this,” he said. “I have to do this. I know it’s a little extreme, but if you were me, if you were Mysterian, you would understand.”
“No, I do get it. Trust me,” said Zoey with conviction.
She could see the same hurt in his eyes that she had seen when they had first witnessed the horror beyond the walls a month ago.
“Slavery is wrong, no matter if you’re human or mystic. I’m with you all the way on this, Tristan, a hundred percent.”
“We both are,” said Simon. “Besides, any excuse to bring havoc into this creepy place. I’m all over it.” He hesitated. “Hang on…I’m missing something…where’s my…? Ah-ha!”
He reached inside his pocket, pulled out what looked like a dead brown caterpillar and pressed it firmly under his nose. He smiled. “Have to be prepared—you know what I mean?”
“Not really, but if you’re planning on scaring them, then yes,” laughed Zoey.
She felt her chest ripple in excitement. “Okay, Agent Bond, you’re up. You know what to do?”
Simon cracked his knuckles. “Of course I know what to do. I was born for things like this. Watch and learn, people, watch and learn.”
He straightened his jacket and raked his hair with his fingers. Then he stepped away from their hiding place and made for the entrance through the great wall to the Alpha village. When he got ten feet away from the guards, he stopped and gave them his best smile.
One of the guards, a beefy-looking man with a flat, square head and a face that was squished like a bulldog’s, brandished his long sword and marched forward. He pointed the tip towards Simon’s throat.
“Are you suicidal, kid? Or just stupid?”
“Maybe a little bit of both, eh?” rasped a second guard in a throaty voice. He was short and stocky with thick brows, which gave him a permanent scowl. He looked like a Neanderthal who was clad in a military outfit two sizes too small.
“Only a really stupid kid agent would be dumb enough to walk right into the gates of our city. Tell me, kid, do you really want to die?”
The first guard frowned. “What’s that on your face? Is that…is that a mustache?” He and the second guard shared a look and then doubled over in laughter.
“Are you two finished?” said Simon, his voice especially cool. “I don’t have all night. There’s a party I have to get back to.”
He smoothed out his mustache.
“I feel sorry for you, kid,” said the second guard.
“You think no one can recognize you with that thing under your nose?” he laughed. “Even with your disguise, we can see that you are agent scum. It’s been a pleasure, kid, truly. We had a good laugh, but we’re still going to kill you.”
The first guard wiped the tears from his eyes. “We’re going to cut you up into little agent liver bits. You’re dying tonight.”
He turned to his colleague. “You wanna kill him, or shall I do the honors?”
“I’m feeling generous tonight,” said the Neanderthal. “You do it.”
Zoey was surprised at how calm Simon was, as though he had done this a thousand times. She admired him. She admired his skills. Simon had talents that she and Tristan would never have. He would be an awesome agent one day.
Simon cleared his throat. “I don’t plan on dying tonight, thank you very much. But I do have a question for you two orangutans,” he said, as he prudently raised his hands in surrender.
The guards glowered in response to Simon’s insult and lifted their gleaming swords towards him.
“What did you call us, kid?”
The first guard looked to the second. “Did he just call us monkeys?”
“He did,” growled the other guard. “And the really ugly ones, too.”
“You calling us ugly, kid?”
The second guard sneered. “Let’s cut him—”
“Wait!” Simon halted and raised his voice. “One question before you cut me.”
The men glowered. “Go on, then,” said the guard with the bulldog face. “You’ve got ten seconds.”
Simon raised his brows. “I won’t be needing that much time. Okay. What’s big, blue, and has a mean left hook?”
The guards stared at Simon impatiently.
“We’re going to kill you—”
Simon grinned and said, “Him.”
With a flash of blue Tristan landed behind them. There was a loud crack as he hit the two unsuspecting men on the back of their heads, and they slumped to the ground, unconscious.
“Man, I envy you,” said Simon, looking at Tristan with admiration.
He raised his arms and flexed his biceps. “Guys, do you think my arms will get bigger eventually? Maybe all I need is more protein.” His face lit up. “I heard if you put Jell-O on your arms—”
“No, and that’s disgusting, you weirdo,” teased Zoey.
She and Tristan pulled the comatose guards away from the entrance and piled them on top of one another against the wall. When they were done, she handed Simon a black bag.
“A gift from Agent Franken,” she said. “He wanted to help. He said two would be enough, but gave us a dozen just in case.”
“A dozen of what?” Simon peered into the bag and pulled out a small egg-shaped silver ball.
“What are these? Are we planning on making them a very expensive breakfast?”
Zoey grinned. “Egg bombs - think of them as mini grenades. I’ve already teste
d them out —they’re freaking awesome. Use these for your diversion. I promise you won’t be sorry.”
Tristan took one of Simon’s egg bombs and tossed it in the air. He had a wild look in his eyes. “This is going to be fun.”
He pitched the silver egg back to Simon, who fumbled with it and then caught it awkwardly. “Don’t drop them yet,” he laughed, as Simon glared at him.
Zoey clasped her boomerang firmly in her right hand and drew a large pair of metal pliers from the inside of her coat with her left.
“We stick to the plan,” she said. She jabbed the pliers like a dagger and felt their weight on her wrist.
“Or we can improvise,” suggested Simon. But he lost his smile as his friends frowned.
“I’m just saying that we can improvise, if we can’t follow the plan.”
“We stick to the plan, Simon,” said Tristan.
Simon looked hurt. “Why would I mess this up? You’re looking at me like that’s something I do on a regular basis.”
Zoey peered towards the entrance. “We’re wasting time. We’ve only got one shot at this.”
Tristan grabbed Simon by his collar and pulled him down next to him. “Let’s go, Bond.”
Tristan’s skin shimmered in hues of blue.
“Right behind you, Hulk,” mumbled Simon.
Zoey crouched low to the ground, and her heart pounded in her ears.
“Ready,” she said, in a steady, measured tone.
“Ready,” echoed Tristan and Simon.
“Now!”
And together, the three young operatives bolted through the entrance.
A group of Alphas turned towards them in surprise and raced to intercept them. Zoey broke right. Tristan went left. And Simon ran straight towards the center of the village. The Alphas hesitated in confusion, then they separated to follow them.
Running madly, Zoey looked over her shoulder. Two ugly and furious Alphas charged after her. She smiled and made her way towards the east side of the wall. When she was near enough, she halted, spun around, and hurled her boomerang as hard as she could.
Her golden weapon rocketed through the air and whacked the two Alphas on their heads. Their eyes rolled in the back of their heads. They tripped and crashed to the ground.
But then, from nowhere, came a flash of green light.
Zoey screamed as a hot green whip wrapped itself around her leg.
She looked up and recognized an Alpha man with dull eyes and a gray beard. He was the same one she had kicked in the leg when she had been captured by Xenor. He had acquired the Indiana Jones whip since then. He had moved up in the world, no doubt.
He sneered at her. “Told you I was going to kill you, you ugly little redhead.”
He yanked his whip and pulled. Zoey resisted the urge to scream as she staggered forward. But he had made the mistake of letting her arms free.
Zoey shot her boomerang like a golden Frisbee, and it slashed the skin on his face.
She caught it back and threw it again, but the man ducked, and slammed his baton into her chest. She jerked away, but the whip’s hold on her tightened until she could hardly feel her leg.
The man was upon her again, and closed his finger around her throat.
Zoey whacked him as hard as she could on the back of the head with her metal pliers.
The man stiffened. He dropped his whip and collapsed to the ground.
“Guess you didn’t kill me after all.”
Zoey pried the whip from her leg and ran towards the hundreds of sickly-looking mystics who worked on the wall. They were as she remembered them from before; bleeding, half-starved, and covered in dirt.
A thunder blast shook the ground.
The mystics stopped and turned. A great big cloud of silver dust formed above the middle of the village.
“Good boy, Simon,” said Zoey.
At first none of them paid any attention to her. They stood still and stared in astonishment at the cloud from the explosion. Then they noticed the girl with the red hair.
Zoey ran to the closest prisoner.
“Quick,” she urged, “show me your hands. I’m here to help you. I’m going to free all of you.”
She raised her pliers.
The enslaved mystics just stood there and stared. “You’re here to free us?”
“Yes,” said Zoey.
She moved closer and cut the bonds of the poor mystic who was closest to her.
He lifted his hands, and tears swelled in his three eyes.
“Here,” she handed him a second pair of pliers. “It’ll go faster if you help me. We don’t have much time.”
When the other mystics realized what was happening, they all gathered around and held up their chains.
Zoey and the mystic worked fast. But it wasn’t as easy as she had first thought, and after cutting about thirty chains she could feel blisters forming on the inside of her hand. She was glad the mystic she had first freed was stronger and faster at cutting the chains than she was. All the mystics on the east wall were free in a few minutes.
“ZOEY!”
Tristan and Simon rushed her way.
“Did you see my awesome explosion?” said Simon, a wide grin spreading on his face.
“No, but I saw the cloud,” said Zoey. “Well done, agent Bond.”
Simon beamed. “It was totally Hollywood-worthy. Maybe if I don’t make it as an agent, I could be a movie producer!”
He was covered in soot, and his mustache was gone.
Hundreds of freed mystics ran behind Tristan, who had the biggest smile on his face she’d ever seen.
“It’s done,” he said proudly. “I got all of them—you?”
He looked around at the mystics near Zoey.
Zoey matched his grin and took his hand. “We did it—”
“HALT! STOP!”
An army of Alphas charged towards them.
“I knew we’d see the red-morons soon enough,” said Simon. He pulled out another silver egg.
Zoey reached out and lowered his arm. “Wait, look!”
Hundreds of recently-freed mystics turned and charged the oncoming Alphas. They roared in fury as they destroyed the Alpha army. Then they cheered and ran for the exit.
Zoey and her friends joined in the cheer and ran alongside them. Zoey was so overwhelmed with emotion that her eyes burned. She let her tears flow. She felt wonderful.
When she had passed the front entrance, she stopped and turned.
On the very top of the hill, above the Alpha village, she could see the silhouette of a woman standing in the grounds of the great manor house. Even from this distance, Zoey could imagine the glare on Mrs. Dupont’s ugly face.
Zoey raised her arm and waved.
Then she turned and ran to catch up to her friends.
“Was I dreaming or were you just waving at someone?” asked Simon when she reached them.
“You weren’t dreaming,” she answered, still smiling. She watched the mystics they had freed as they disappeared into the forest. She could barely make out the blue light that came from deep in the woods, but she was too far away to see the giant portal.
“Where do you think they’ll all go?”
Tristan shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that they’re free.”
Zoey moved her hand and found his. He squeezed it gently, and an understanding passed between them.
Simon was excited.
“Well, I’m ready for another adventure. So, where are we going now? We can still catch what’s left of the celebration. I’ve got a few new gags I’d like to try on Stuart King.”
“For now, we go back home, and pray Director Hicks won’t murder us for sneaking out of his uber-important ceremony,” answered Zoey.
It had been worth it. Freeing all those mystics was better than receiving a shield. She knew Director Hicks would be disappointed, but she was sure if he knew the real reason she had skipped the celebration, he’d be proud of them.
Suddenly, more red uniforms spilled out of the entrance and charged towards them.
“Here come the reinforcements,” said Tristan. “Let’s get out of here.”
They pulled out their DSMs and stood together. They angled their mirrors to get all their reflections.
Zoey took a breath. She paused for a moment and then said, “Tonight we go back to the Hive, but after that I’m going to get my mom. I’m going to go to the Nexus.”
And they vanished.
MYSTICS
* Book Three *
THE NEXUS
By
KIM RICHARDSON
THE NEXUS
Mystics Book 3
By
Kim Richardson
SMASHWORDS EDITION
*****
PUBLISHED BY:
Kim Richardson on Smashwords
The Nexus, Mystics Book 3:
Copyright © 2014 by Kim Richardson
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
Chapter 1
A Giant Pain in the Neck
The giant’s grin revealed a mouthful of rotten teeth.
“You die. Me eat girl.”
Its rough, scratchy voice rasped like wind through rock.
Zoey raised her boomerang.
Mystics 3-Book Collection Page 48