Chronicles of Stephen BoxSet

by Kenyon T Henry

  Alistair nodded to Sam, who turned and left in a hurry. He directed his attention to Patty and motioned to a chair. He sat in one next to her, and they faced each other.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Me?” Alistair smiled. “Ye know, yer the first person to ask me that since I took over as David.” He squirmed in his seat, shifting his weight from side to side. “Thank ye, Patty. I’m guid.”

  Patty couldn’t read minds like her husband, but she didn’t really believe Alistair. He looked tired—his eyes had dark circles around them, his complexion had paled, and his smile was absent again. Plus, the mood in the room felt off. “What did you call me here for?”

  “I’m hoping for yer help with something.” His fingers rapped on the table for a moment. “Yer not going to like it, but I need ye to stay in Enclave for a while, for your protection.”

  “No,” Patty fired back immediately.

  “It’s not a request,” Alistair replied.

  “The David gave me a task—my own mission, that I must complete. And I will complete it.”

  “What mission?” Alistair asked.

  “I can’t tell you, not yet. But it is important.”

  “I’m sorry, Patty, but I can’t allow it. You must stay in Enclave.”

  “Absolutely . . . not!” She leaped to her feet. “I don’t know what’s going on around this place, but from the moment I walked back into Enclave, everything seems off. It showed me just how important my mission is. Besides, do you really want Stephen to hear you’re forcing me to stay here at Enclave?” Patty hated playing that card. Alistair was a friend. But he was also acting different now. She knew Alistair understood Stephen well enough to know that news of her detainment wouldn’t go over well.

  “Fine, but you’re taking two Mighty with you,” he said.

  “Works for me. Edge and Jax have already agreed,” Patty replied. “Stephen asked them to stay with me at our place, to help me with whatever I needed while he was gone. In addition, Joe’s been there too.”

  “Wait! Are they helping you?” he barked.

  “They are,” she said.

  “You trust them, but not me?” he asked, his voice cracking.

  She could tell it hurt him, but it was his own doing. “Well, they did mention some business about being ‘cast out’ of Enclave.”

  Alistair grabbed her arm. “Don’t get snippy with me, lass. Ye don’t talk to the David like that.”

  Patty jerked her arm back and slapped Alistair across the face, mere relex due, no doubt, to Shannon’s insistence that she train to defend herself. “I’m not,” she said in a low voice. She turned and walked toward the door. “I was talking with a friend who’s become paranoid.” With that, the door closed behind her. “And don’t touch me again,” she mumbled under her breath, rubbing her arm where it now throbbed.

  Anastasia was standing outside the door. “Problems?” she asked.

  Patty’s body shook. She couldn’t reconcile what had just happened. Her knees went weak, nearly giving way. A few tears slipped down her cheek, which she quickly wiped away. She had always been able to maintain self-control in stressful situations. But she felt as though she was about to lose it, her emotions a torrent, tearing at the foundation of who she knew herself to be.

  Anastasia took hold of her, snapping her out of an emotional spiral. “Come with me.” Anastasia guided Patty down the hall to her personal quarters. The door opened, revealing Sam, who left his seat and came to the door.

  “What’s wrong with Patty?” he asked.

  “Our new David,” Anastasia replied. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into him. Perhaps it’s stress. But there’s no excuse for this.”

  Patty went to the bathroom and washed her face, cleaning up the mascara that had run. When she was satisfied, she entered the main living area again. “I’m sorry.”

  Sam spoke. “No, dear. Don’t be sorry. I’m certain you have nothing to be sorry for in all this. This is Charles’s doing.”

  “How so?” Anastasia asked.

  “He has that boy of his wound so tight—putting so much pressure on him. He’s all but convinced Alistair that Stephen wants the mantle of David.”

  Anastasia gasped. “What?”

  Patty didn’t say a word. Her silence, however, seemed to give her away.

  “He doesn’t, does he?” Sam asked.

  “No, he doesn’t,” Patty replied.

  “There’s more, isn’t there? Something happened. Did Pastor Buchanan ask Stephen to be the next David?” Sam pressed.

  Anastasia watched the exchange in silence.

  “No. Before you ask, there is nothing else I should tell you,” Patty said. “If you want to know more, you need to ask Stephen.”

  Anastasia broke her silence. “So, there is more?”

  Patty looked at the floor.

  ****

  Jax looked from left to right and back again. Then he saw the crate he was looking for, labeled Main Console. He carefully picked the crate up and made his way back into another room where Edge was putting equipment together.

  “I don’t like not telling Stephen,” Jax said.

  Edge wasted no time in replying. “Look, Jax. It’s not that we aren’t telling him something. He hasn’t even asked.”

  “You think he knows? He can read Patty’s mind, too, right?”

  “Yes, he can. No, I don’t think he knows,” Edge said. “It’s more than that. He trusts her. He knows that when the time is right, she’ll tell him. Besides, he’s more concerned with everything else right now. Enclave isn’t doing well. People are in panic mode. Alistair doesn’t seem to want Stephen around. Mighty are disappearing. And he feels it.”

  “Feels what?” the young man asked, setting the crate down.

  “Pap told me once that every so often, when Mighty and Fallen are drawn into the battle—the one that takes place once a generation—a Mighty arises that feels the call, like the sounding of a trumpet. That person prepares and eventually leads the charge.”

  “You think he’s heard it?” Jax asked.

  “I know he has,” Edge replied. “When I last saw him at the wedding, there was something different about him. A fire in his eyes. A rumble in his voice. He spoke with a passion that could rally almost anyone to his cause. Something changed in him that night. Something apart from the wedding. Since he and Patty are bonded now, I’m certain she feels it too. I’m just not sure if she realizes it.”

  “What do you mean?” Jax asked as he pulled boards loose from the console with his bare hands.

  “Have you seen how determined she is to get this finished? She was a hard worker before, studying constantly to learn more and more about Mighty. But this”—Edge motioned around the room filled with tables, desks, and monitors—“this is something more than fulfilling a commitment to the David. She senses the urgency. Stephen’s mission is now hers. Husband and wife have become one.”

  Jax continued pulling boards from the crate and unpacking the consoles inside. “Speaking of the bonding ceremony, did Patty have time to go through the premarital counseling? Does she know about being bonded to Stephen?”

  Edge stopped working on the equipment for the first time and stared at Jax, a blank expression on his face. He tilted his head to one side. “You know, I don’t think she would have had time. But I’m certain Stephen would have told her about it.”

  “I don’t think Stephen knows,” Jax replied. “We’d just started talkin’ about it when they doubled up on Stephen’s combat and abilities training. He didn’t come back to class.”

  Edge chuckled and went back to attaching some cables to a monitor. “Well, this may get interesting before it’s over.”

  ****

  Patty needed to get back to her project. Aside from feeling as though it was somehow more urgent than Pastor Buchanan led her to believe, it might keep her mind off how angry she was with Alistair. How dare he try to force her to stay at Enclave! She was tempted to call Stephen
and let him know. But she understood how important rallying the support of Outcasts was to the outcome. At least Sam and Anastasia hadn’t pressed her any further about Stephen. They had suggested she reach out to Vincent and Shannon, which was a good idea.

  She neared the warehouse in her beat-up compact. The building was the same one that Stephen had found his first two Fallen—Rebound and Matthew—while searching for Waltz’s killer. Stephen had commission her to start a warehousing division for the company he inherited from Waltz, which she had. Pastor Buchanan had commissioned her to do something else.

  She pulled into the front office parking lot. Vincent, Shannon, Rex, and Bernard were standing near the front entrance talking when they noticed Patty.

  Vincent’s shiny black hair was pulled into a ponytail, which made his goatee more noticeable. His face showed no expression, as usual, and he seemed to be listening to Shannon, his girlfriend. His ability to control his emotions must be enhanced as a priest, she thought.

  Patty noticed again how different the couple was in appearance, as Shannon’s long blond hair hung nearly to her waist. Her animated facial expressions and mannerism, too, were a stark contrast to Vincent’s. No one ever needed to ask Shannon how she felt about something. Her face would say it all. Patty was surprised Shannon had been able to keep the secret that Stephen had released a latent warrior ability in her.

  Bernard, Uncle Bernie’s nephew and Stephen’s oldest friend, looked the size of the others combined. He even stood about a head taller than his younger cousin, Jax. His strong frame, too, would intimidate most. Add to that the fact that he was a warrior, Patty wondered how Stephen had survived their fight while Bernard was being controlled.

  She hurried from her car to the front door to greet them all with hugs. Once inside, they were free to talk without fear of being overheard by the warehouse workers.

  “Patty,” Shannon began, “you sounded urgent.”

  “It is or I wouldn’t have asked you leave what you were doing.”

  “What is the problem?” Vincent asked in his usual monotone voice. His face remained stoic, unlike the others.

  Bernard interrupted Patty before she could reply. “Stephen’s okay, right?”

  “Yes, Bernard, Stephen is fine. But I’m not so sure about Alistair. He’s not himself. Before we get into that, there’s something I want to show you.” She pointed to the medallion hanging from Shannon’s neck. “Shannon, get ready to use that.”

  Patty walked over to a painting on the wall. “I had this work commissioned of King David hiding in the cave with his mighty men.” She rubbed the painting near a piece of cloth in the young David’s hand. “Touch your medallion here.”

  Shannon did as instructed. The wall faded, revealing a spiraling staircase.

  Shannon, Bernard, and even Vincent stood wide-eyed, Vincent’s mouth agape.

  Patty couldn’t help but grin at the sight. “Follow me.”

  The stairs led them down to a room full of empty crates and boxes. Scanning the space, Patty saw that the command center looked much more together than when she’d left it.

  “Bernard!” Jax ran in from an adjacent room and gave his larger cousin a fist bump. “Good to see ya’.”

  “You too, little cuz,” Bernard bellowed before giving him a bro hug.

  “What is this?” Vincent asked.

  “Looks like a command center,” Rex said.

  “It’s what Pastor Buchanan asked me to do. He said Stephen would need a place to work—a private place for his own team.”

  “Ah,” Shannon let out. “Alistair didn’t like it when he found out.”

  Alistair. Hearing the name made Patty angry. “Alistair doesn’t know, and won’t know.”

  “What happened when you met with Alistair?” Vincent asked, walking around looking at the equipment.

  Patty propped herself against a counter. “Alistair sent me an official summons to Enclave.”

  “An official summons?” Bernard asked.

  “That’s how I felt at first,” she replied. “But I figured he was just trying to be official and get used to the position. No big deal. When I got there, he ordered me to stay at Enclave so he could protect me. I refused, explaining I was working on something Pastor Buchanan asked me to do. He wanted to know what it was and didn’t like it when I wouldn’t tell him. Then, Alistair wanted to detain me, but he realized that would be a mistake.”

  “I’ll say,” Shannon added. “Stephen would go unhinged.”

  “Afterward, he insisted I take two Mighty with me, for my protection. Agreeing, I told him Edge and Jax were already helping.

  “That’s when Alistair’s paranoia kicked in. He got angry that they were involved and that I wouldn’t tell him about it, questioning why I should trust them but not trust him. That’s when I let him know that I knew he had threatened to cast out Jax and Edge along with Stephen.”

  “What?” Bernard yelled. “That’s insane. He can’t just do that.”

  Shannon stood next to Patty, rubbing her back. “What happened next, Patty.”

  It was a nice gesture, but did little to calm Patty. Telling her tale brought the emotions back to the surface, as though she were reliving it. “Alistair grabbed my arm and told me not to talk to ‘the David’ like that.” She didn’t realize she was rubbing her arm where Alistair had grabbed it until Vincent walked over and pulled up her sleeve. She looked down and noticed the hand-print mark that remained.

  Vincent looked Patty in the eyes. “This is not good. You need to talk to Stephen. Make him promise he will remain calm when he talks to Alistair.”

  Patty nodded. “I think it’ll be okay. I slapped Alistair—harder than I thought I could.”

  Bernard patted her shoulder. “Attagirl.”

  Rex grunted something that resembled a chuckle.

  “There’s more. Sam and Anastasia say he’s under stress from Charles; and that Enclave is dividing. There’re a number of people who want Stephen to be the David. And Charles has Alistair believing Stephen wants it too.”

  “He doesn’t, does he?” Shannon asked.

  “No,” Patty said. “Not at all.” She motioned around the room. “I’m not even certain he’ll want this. But Pastor Buchanan says he’ll need it.”

  Chapter 8

  The smell of ocean spray coupled with the chattering sea birds always put a smile on Stephen’s face. The warm sun felt good on his skin and face too. He would have welcomed a breeze though. He had only been to St. Augustine, Florida, once before—for pleasure. Now he was here for a different reason. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Mighty, or Outcast as it were, could be found in the oldest city in the United States . . . but it did. Frankly, it surprised him in almost every city he and Max had gone to, finding Outcast in cities, both large and small. For some reason, he had assumed they would gravitate toward the larger cities and larger groups. Instead, each place never had more than a few Outcasts. Stephen hoped, however, that word would spread. Even if they didn’t join the cause, perhaps they could help find Pastor Buchanan.

  Together, he and Max meandered through Castillo de San Marcos, the large fort that stood overlooking Matanzas Bay since 1695. Ordinarily, he would enjoy looking around, learning more about the history of the city and the Spanish-designed military post. This day, there was no time for that. They had been asked to meet here, with no additional instructions. Neither he nor Max had any idea who they were meeting or what to expect.

  The tourist attraction was packed with travelers from all over. As Stephen walked around, he listened in on conversations, both by sound and in the mind, searching for any indication they had found the persons they were here to meet. He heard a French woman, who spoke little English.

  Max walked up next to him and watched in silence. After a moment, she asked, “Do you speak French?”

  “No.” Stephen listened to the lady’s mind a moment and turned away. “But she’s not who we’re here to meet.”

  “If you don’t
speak French, how do you know?”

  “People don’t talk to convey words, we talk to convey ideas. The brain puts those ideas into words so that others can understand and ideas are communicated. As best I can tell, my ability searches the thoughts—ideas. Then translates the idea as it would my own, into the language I’m familiar with.”

  Max scrunched her brows. “So you can’t understand French, but you can understand her thoughts? That’s cool.”

  Stephen shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I’ve never really thought about it.” He looked back toward the French woman. “She’s thinking of leaving him—her boyfriend. She’s realizing that he’s not who she thought and is into some bad stuff. But she has asked God for a sign.”

  “What about the man?” Max asked. “Is he really that bad?”

  “He’s worse,” Stephen said. “He does things she doesn’t even know about.” He walked away, looking at others, listening to their minds.

  “You aren’t going to do anything, are you?”

  Stephen said nothing, but hid the faintest smile as best as he could. Max dragged her feet beside him, indicating her displeasure.

  The two headed up the steps to the top of the fort wall. Perhaps they’d misunderstood. Maybe they were supposed to meet near the fort, not in it. They walked to the stone wall and looked over the edge. No one.

  It was a beautiful day, and families were out having fun. A kid’s laughter caught Stephen’s attention. He liked watching the kids play whimsically. To his right, a young Hispanic boy played with a ball little more than twenty yards away, tossing it up and catching it. Stephen guessed he was eight, maybe nine. The mother and father read a historical marker nearby as the kid played. Again, the boy tossed the ball high up into the air. The breeze from the bay pushed the ball toward the edge. Stephen knew the ball was lost, but watched as the boy ran to the edge, incognizant of the short wall. He heard the boy’s mind, focused solely on retrieving his toy. The child leaped into the air, tipping over the edge.

  Stephen held the boy’s leg in his grasp, then lifted him back over the short wall to safety. Turning around, he saw the mother and father of the youngster staring in awe—the mother’s hands clasped tight over her mouth. They appeared to have taken a couple steps forward before stopping short. Stephen turned the boy upright and stood him on his feet. The kid fled to his parents, who embraced him tight.