Chronicles of Stephen BoxSet

by Kenyon T Henry

  Stephen thought for a moment. He wanted to know more. What would happen if the scroll didn’t reappear? Could another piece of parchment be torn from the existing scroll? Instead, he refocused on the reason he’d sought out his mentor. “I want to discuss Uncle Bernie and Elizabeth. We need to find them.”

  “I know. I wish I knew where to start. We’ve heard nothing from them.” The old man looked worried again.

  “I think I know where to start—St. Louis. Someone must have been watching Waltz’s grave. They had no way of knowing I’d dig up some old tradition to honor Waltz. They may still be watching his grave. Besides, Uncle Bernie has always been a creature of habit. He still prefers a stove, refusing to use a microwave, and has the same tell when playing cards that he’s always had. When he needed to get away, he always went to Busch Stadium to watch a baseball game.”

  “I’ll have some people check it out. It couldn’t hurt. It’s the best lead we have.” The David put his glasses back on. “Is there anything else?”

  “Yes. I need to be there when you send a team for Elizabeth—Vincent, Anthony, and I all need to be there.”

  “That can be arranged.” Pastor Buchanan smiled.

  “Thank you.” Stephen got and headed for the door.

  “Stephen,” Pastor Buchanan called out.

  Stephen turned around.

  “Where’s your limp?”

  Stephen looked down at his leg. Come to think of it, it didn’t tingle or feel different. It felt normal. He smiled. “I had another visit from Areli. He told me to stop feeling sorry for myself. I guess you could say he inspired me to get well.” Stephen grinned at his friend, then turned and walked out the same double doors he had entered. Glancing back at the church, he felt a surge of hope that they’d soon find Elizabeth.

  ****

  Stephen and the rest of the team watched Alistair, waiting for a signal to move in. There was a scout team clearing the perimeter for entry. As they waited, two other teams sat at different entry points on the other side of the building waiting for the same clearance to enter the grounds.

  Just as Stephen had suggested, posting scouts at Busch Gardens soon turned up a sighting of Uncle Bernie. Within a week, scouts found that he was returning to a beautiful, old, abandoned house, not so unlike the many others spread across the older parts of St. Louis. Now, they waited under a clear night sky to confront a man who had betrayed each of them.

  Alistair pulled his finger away from the earpiece, turning back to the team. “All clear.” He waved the group forward. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait,” Stephen said. He reached out with his mind again, feeling anger and hatred emanate from within the house, too much for any one person. But there was only one person. He pushed harder, to make sure he broke through any barriers, listening for thoughts. Only one person’s thoughts came from inside the house: Bernie’s.

  Alistair scowled at him. “What, Stephen?”

  “Something is wrong. Only Bernie is inside,” Stephen replied.

  “That sounds like a good thing,” Alistair said before turning away.

  “No,” Bernard said. “Stephen’s right. Bernie wouldn’t just sit and wait on us.”

  Alistair grabbed his earpiece again, eyes widening. “We’ve gotta go now.” He ran toward the front of the house.

  Stephen and the team followed close, realizing something must have happened. Searching with his mind again, Stephen received a very different result. Although the house should have been filled with Bernie and the two teams, it was empty.

  Landing on the porch, Stephen reached to stop Alistair from opening the door. “Don’t,” he cried out. It was too late. The door opened, and the red mist of a vanishing point blasted past them, consuming the team.

  Stephen knew the only thing he could do now, all any of them could do, was to keep walking. “Can anyone see where we are?” he asked.

  “Not yet,” Alistair called back in a hushed tone.

  One by one, each indicated that they couldn’t see anything yet, which was both good and bad. Good in that everyone was still together. Bad because no one had any idea where they were going.

  Before long the mist thinned and lines, shapes, even shadows became visible. Moonlight shining through the windows at the top of the building allowed them to see debris on the floor. Walls had holes. Parts of machines were scattered across the large, long, concrete floor. Exterior walls appeared to be made of brick, though it was hard to make out for certain. Doorways and large openings along the wall indicated more areas for them to explore.

  Shannon spoke first, while shining a red night-vision light around the large room. “Stephen, Vincent, Bernard—St. Louis is your home turf. Any one of you know where we are?”

  The three looked at each other. Stephen read the other two minds and realized they were as lost as she was. “No, we don’t.”

  Alistair walked through the middle of the group. “It looks like an abandoned factory of some sort. Stephen, can you find the others? Are they here?”

  It only took a moment for Stephen to find other thoughts and emotions beyond the group. He nodded. “We aren’t alone either. I hear thoughts, not just Mighty.”

  “How many others?” Rex asked.

  Stephen looked up and around the large room. Now that his eyes were adjusting, he saw a walkway along an upper level with more doors and windows leading to second-story rooms along the outer walls.

  “It’s hard to say. Three to one. Maybe four.”

  “Does that include the other two teams?” Vincent asked, voice emotionless as usual.

  Stephen looked him in the eyes. “If they are in this room with us now, yes.”

  Alistair hurried to the middle of the group. “Are you telling me there are close to fifty Fallen out here with us, not including what’s out there with them?”

  Yes, Stephen replied with his mind. He did this so that with his thought, he could share his calm, his boldness, and his hope. You three are a triune. I don’t know what that means as well as most of you do. I do know it makes you stronger. We don’t need to beat and defeat every Fallen here.We only need to find Elizabeth—assuming she’s here—and get out. Give me time and I can find her thoughts, if she’s here.

  “What about Bernie?” Bernard snipped.

  “His day will come,” Stephen promised.

  “I don’t know, Stephen,” Alistair said. “I think we should find the others. We have a better chance together.”

  “There’s still more out there with them,” Stephen insisted.

  Alistair hastened to make his point. “Still, their skill and experience will be needed. We find them before going after Elizabeth or Bernie.” He looked at Vincent and Bernard. Both hesitated.

  “Stephen?” Bernard asked.

  “They aren’t attacking yet. Let’s follow Alistair’s plan. I’ll continue to listen for Elizabeth’s and Bernie’s thoughts.”

  “Let’s go, mukkers,” Alistair barked, making his way toward an opening on the far end of the room. After several steps, he looked back to see that no one followed him. “You coming?”

  Stephen motioned to an opening on the wall across the room to their right. “If you want to find the others, we should go this way. Where you’re heading, there are no thoughts.”

  Alistair hurried in the direction Stephen had indicated. The others met him, keeping careful watch on the shadows and dark places.

  Everything all right? Stephen pushed his thoughts to only Alistair. Something seemed to be bothering his Scottish friend.

  It’s fine. I just don’t like this at all! The Scotsman hurried past the group.

  Together, they walked into another large room and followed a path down the center, created by large machines on either side. Sounds of other’s movements echoed from the shadows along the walls. The smell of grease and stale water filled the air.

  Stephen wiped sweat from his forehead and took notice as others did the same. It felt warmer than St. Louis here, more humid. He moved h
is red light back and forth along the wall as they walked, seeing an occasional shadow streak past.

  “I can sense Mighty ahead,” Vincent said. “They should not be much farther.”

  The closer they got to the other side of the room, the easier it was to make out a large bay door. Light trickled through one side of the door, which had separated from the wall.

  Stephen turned to Bernard. “Think you and I can remove that door?”

  Bernard smiled wide enough it could be seen in the dark. “Shoot, boy. I can get dis’ myself.” Bernard grabbed hold of the door and launched it into the shadows. The door crashed against machines. More light spilled through, allowing them to see a couple Fallen scurry out of sight.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” Alistair chastised. “We don’t need to instigate them until we know what’s going on.”

  Stephen defended Bernard’s action. “Relax.” He patted Alistair on the back. “They haven’t attacked yet because they’re afraid and waiting on orders. I’ve seen that much in their scattered thoughts. It’s like most of them don’t have thoughts of their own anymore.”

  The group went through the opening and into the soft lighting in the room. Stephen glanced back at the darkness. He felt pity for them. Slaves, each one.

  “Hey!”

  Stephen turned to see another team heading their way. Edge had called out upon seeing Alistair’s team enter. The two groups met.

  “Group three should be here soon.” Edge motioned in the opposite direction. “We’ve got a lot of company tailing us though. You guys ready to fight?”

  Alistair looked back in the direction his group had just come. “We’ve got a lot watching us, too, but we’re ready. Stephen, you got a lock on Elizabeth yet?”

  “Almost,” Stephen replied. “I’m sensing her, but someone’s trying to interfere. She’s not in this building, but close though. I just need a little more time.”

  Edge rubbed his hands together. “Well, as long as they don’t engage, we wait for Colvin’s group. He has Sam and Anastasia with him. But Pap made it clear that Colvin has command of this mission. So, I suggest we wait.”

  “I hope they get here soon,” Alistair added, looking around.

  As they waited, some of the group members walked about the room, making note of the various items and tools they found. Nothing, however, seemed to indicate where they were. The best anyone could determine was that they were in an abandoned factory of sorts. Any piece of evidence that might give a clue as to their whereabouts either hid in the darkness or had been removed. Some suspected this was to keep Mighty from being able to return.

  Leaning against the wall chatting were a couple people Stephen had only met in passing. “Fellas,” he called to them. “Would you mind taking a few steps to my left?” One of the men cocked his head and looked at Stephen, holding his hands palm up as if asking for an explanation. The second man nudged him, and they moved to Stephen’s left.

  As soon as the two settled in their new spot, the spot they had just vacated exploded as though a wrecking ball had been run through it. Aidan stood in the new opening, dusting debris from his shoulders and clothes.

  “I see why some people call you freight train.” Stephen laughed.

  Aidan dusted pieces of block from his shoulders and scowled. “Who still calls me that?” he demanded as the rest of Colvin’s team spilled through the hole in the wall.

  Rex chuckled. “A shorter list would be to ask who doesn’t.”

  Finally, the three groups were together, Anthony being the last Mighty to enter the room. In all, there were twenty, including the two scouts. No sooner had someone asked “Now what?” than a deep, hate-filled laughter came from the dark corners, echoing in the room. The scurrying they had heard as they were followed grew, as footsteps hastened and stopped just outside the entries.

  Stephen opened himself up to the other Mighty. He felt fear rise in most of the members. Only he and the priests seemed immune. Turning back to where his team had entered, he witnessed a large, lone figure enter the room. How dare he? How bold and stupid is he to enter a room of Mighty by himself? Two can play that game.

  Stephen pushed his own boldness and fearlessness out to the Mighty. Those whose demeanor looked to have resembled a scolded dog now stood tall, heads high.

  Uncle Bernie looked at Bernard, shook his head, and spit on the ground. “You’re a disappointment to me. Ya know dat?”

  Bernard said nothing, but stood with fists clenched, ready to throw down at any moment.

  Then, the traitor turned to Stephen. “You been causing me all sorts of trouble. Though, I gotta tell you somethin’. I was mighty glad when you took me to Enclave. It sure would’ve been nice to stay longer. But I just couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk you puttin’ the pieces together. So, I used the connection I established with everyone to make it seem like I was still there. Heck, I even influenced the priests.”

  “You sound awfully proud of yourself,” Colvin said, stepping up next to Stephen. “You know what they say about pride!”

  Bernard didn’t take his eyes off Stephen. “I’m not the one falling here today.”

  A large chunk of machinery flew by Stephen’s head from behind, forcing Bernie to jump out of the way by flinging himself to the ground just beside the bay door. “Get them!” Bernie sounded off, and the room flooded with Fallen. Not one Mighty hesitated as sparks lit up the shadows and bodies flew by.

  Stephen grabbed hold of a Fallen, denying him the opportunity to stab Do-Yeung in the back with a short sword. The man shrieked as he flew into two others, sending one out a window and the other into the wall.

  The occasional flame streaked by, but mostly daggers and random objects. Fallen weren’t as strong or fast as Mighty. Darkness had weakened them from what they once might have been. Still, the numbers favored Fallen. The Mighty couldn’t go on forever like this.

  Stephen caught a glimpse of Colvin in time to watch his teacher drop a light fixture on a couple Fallen with the motion of a hand. He darted his thoughts to him. If I find Elizabeth, we can get out of here and track Bernie another day.

  Colvin replied with his own thoughts. Take Bernard, Vincent, and Anthony. Other Fallen will follow you.

  Stephen understood. The more Fallen that followed Stephen, the longer the rest of the Mighty could hold them off. Stephen and his group only needed to stay ahead. He reached out with his thoughts, calling the other three to him. When the four were assembled, Stephen led them out at the first opportunity. As predicted, several Fallen followed, though Stephen wasn’t certain just how many.

  Soon, they found themselves outside.

  “What are we doing here?” Anthony asked.

  “There’s a building being shielded from me. When I reach out, it’s like nothing exists. It’s hard to explain. But it’s got to be a large building.”

  They looked around, watching a couple Fallen get closer. Bernard grabbed an old parking sign and plucked if from the ground, sending it flying into the nearest Fallen, knocking them to the ground.

  Stephen looked around. It had to be here. But he saw nothing but this huge parking lot. He looked back at the building. Something was off. It was large, but not large enough to need a lot this size. Was it?

  “Bernard,” he shouted. “Throw a sign to the far end of the lot.” Bernard shrugged, but did it anyway. The sign sailed, then disappeared just before the sound of breaking glass carried over the sound of distant fighting.

  Together, the four ran toward the crashing sound, all realizing a building hid in plain sight. Stephen and Bernard made it through the invisible wall first, followed by Vincent and his father. Four men stood at the entrance to the building.

  Dispatching the guards took little effort as the men entered the building. Bernard grabbed up two of the men and smacked them together, only to drop them casually to the side of the brick steps. Stephen fought with more finesse, but finished his two as quickly, landing a side kick into the first man’s chest
with a loud crack, then using that man’s weight to propel him into a backward spin to catch the second guard’s jaw with his heel.

  The four Mighty men sped through the doors. Anthony entered last and stopped. “Stephen,” he called out. Stephen turned and walked back to the doors, curious to see why Anthony stood peering through the still open door.

  Not knowing what to expect, he was caught off guard to see the Fallen that had chased them had stopped short of entering the building. There must have been twenty of them. He tried to read their minds, but their thoughts were not their own. These men were merely soldiers whose minds had been hijacked by Bernie. Still, they were afraid of something inside, though he couldn’t pull the information from their thoughts.

  Anthony tugged at his shoulder. “Let’s go.” Stephen relented.

  Vincent stood at the bottom of a stairwell looking up. “Where do we go from here?”

  Stephen stepped beside him to see that a large chunk of the stairs was missing above them. He stepped out and looked down the hall. “Split up?” he asked. The three agreed.

  Anthony offered his thoughts. I suggest you and Vincent take the bottom floor, he said to Stephen, while Bernard and I check the top floor. Put us all on a mental link so we stay in touch.

  Stephen nodded. Sounds good to me.

  Bernard wrapped his arm around Anthony’s back, taking hold of him, and jumped up the stairwell to the top floor with single hop. Vincent turned to Stephen. “I would prefer you never attempt that with me.”

  Stephen laughed as they walked down the hall. “What if we were stuck in the bottom of a canyon?”

  “I will climb,” Vincent replied.

  “What if you can’t?”

  “Let me die with dignity.”

  After checking a few empty rooms, Stephen heard what he thought sounded liked chains. Anyone else hearing that?

  Vincent nodded.

  The others replied in near unison, Hear what?

  Stephen pushed his thoughts again. Stay tuned. We’ll know in a moment.