Dawn of the Guardian

Introduction

2024-06-21T14:45:00.000-07:00

I have Death's sickle pressed against my throat. I can sense the end of my being. It isn't true what they say, about your life flashing before your eyes. Rather, a feeling rises in you, like a scream stuck in the back of your throat. You wish you could focus on one thought or image, but you are overwhelmed. A very complex sensation that encompasses everything you've ever lived glows like a coal spreading warm understanding throughout your body: enlightenment through acceptance. So much information released all at once. All you can do is bask in it and wait.

Bright lights, noises, and muffled voices. Max couldn't move. He had trouble keeping his eyes open. There was a dull ringing in his ears accompanied by persistent voices that sounded diluted, like they were speaking underwater. His blue irises struggled to focus. Max didn't understand. He felt warm all over, but he couldn't lift his head to see what was causing the sensation. A face came into view: a woman concentrating. Their eyes met. Concern replaced her concentration. She moved her mouth. Max could make out bits of what she said, something about hearing and blinking. Her hand moved into his vision; it was gloved. She dragged a white forefinger across his face, Max's eyes followed. Another face came into his constricted view, a man's. His mouth moved similar to the woman's earlier but with more intensity.

"IF YOU CAN HEAR ME BLINK TWICE!" The medic shouted just as the ambulance ran over a large pothole. The E.M.T.s jerked backward and Max's legs wobbled. No. Max didn't want to blink at all. Blinking twice would confirm that this was real. It would mean that the head-on collision did occur. It meant his world would be forever changed for the worse. Blinking twice would kill his family. Instead, Max cried. The salty tears stung the glass carved abrasions on his face then disappeared into his black hair. There was nothing he could do except weep knowing that his world had perished in a gruesome instant. The white hands returned, holding a syringe and a plastic tube. The woman depressed the plunger injecting a clear liquid into the line and he drifted into sleepy darkness, temporarily free of the world and its truths.

Chapter X

2003-02-01T20:18:00.000-08:00

Cowboy Up

“You’re going to help me right?”

“Hah, I wish I could. That last flash really did a number on me. The longer the distance the harder it is on my body. I won’t be much use for a good while Max. Besides, I can’t go back to Siros, not yet anyways.”

“Why not, I can’t do this alone. I don’t know anything or anyone or where to start.”

“Nah, sorry kid. If I was spotted they’d tie me up and drag me to the nearest dungeon. I’ve got a bad rep so it’s best you aren’t seen with me,” Santiago said while sliding out of his soaked trenchcoat.

“Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions you know that?”

“Well, You just hijacked my life.”

Santiago chuckled, “No, not me Max, the Reapers. You and your family were living on Earth to avoid them and all the political crap on Siros. This wasn’t supposed to happen, none of it. I say, someone sold your family out. Someone on the inside.”

“I don’t get it, any of it. How am I supposed to get Mia back? I don’t know anything,” Max groaned, kicking up a pile of white sand.

“Listen, boy. Whining ain’t gonna get your sister back. Man up.”

Max paused, aghast. He didn’t know what to say as Santiago’s grey eyes honed in on him; a stark look of finality. He turned away. The old man was right. He needed to fix his attitude and get serious. Santiago twisted his coat, squeezing the water out, his arms bulging with taut muscles and spotted with scars, a testament to his declaration.

“I’ll take you to the gate, but after that you are on your own.”

Max nodded. He kept his gaze locked on his wet converse shoes.

“There are people on Siros sympathetic to your cause, even a few close friends that I trust. They’ll find you before you find them, don’t worry,” he assured, shaking out the remaining water from his long hair.

Max felt overwhelmed and scared. Whether he wanted to believe it or not, it was happening. He had no idea what would occur next, only that he would have to do it alone. He shivered from the cold clothes sucked to his skin and the thought of the foreign world and all its unknowns. He would need a miracle to get Mia back. Mia, what horror could she be going through at this moment? He didn’t want to think about it.
After a brief struggle, Max pulled his shirt off and mimicked Santiago actions. He looked down at his own body, meager muscled and small in comparison to the rugged warrior beside him. Max touched the scab on his chest. Although the area was red and irritated, the pain was barely registering now.

Max clutched his stomach as a low rumble erupted in his belly. He couldn’t recall the last time he had eaten real food. And now the hunger coupled with the dire reality wrecked havoc on his insides.

Santiago dug through the pockets of his coat and removed a small can.

“This stuff tastes like soggy cardboard, but it’ll fill your stomach,” he said prying open the can with a metal blade that suddenly appeared atop his right fist.

“No thanks, I think I’m going to puke,” he said catching a whiff of the canned mystery.

Santiago brought the food to his lips, tilted his head back, and slurped downing the whole thing in one loud swig.

“Ahhh, not bad for canned Gullip.”

“Gross.”

“I’m sure you’ll like it fresh.”

“I’m sure I won’t.”

“When you get to Siros you’re going to have to have a more open attitude. You’re going to have to try and blend into the crowd. The Reapers have probably infiltrated deeper than anyone suspected, and they’ll notice if you stick out like a tourist.”

“Why does it matter? I’m after my sister and they have her.”

“You gotta be discreet because they’ll be waiting for you. The Tekagi have already warned them probably. You can’t just bumble around with your anger and expect to rescue her. These Reapers are elite killing machines.”

“Great. More good news. Isn’t there some sort of police force or law in this place? Can’t they help me?”

“Depends on which country you are in.”

“There are countries up there?”

Santiago’s frustration was brimming, but he caught himself before he could answer in anger.

“Relax, you’ll be fine. You are a Masterson, after all,” he said with a sigh.

“Yea, I don’t even know what all the means anymore.”
A splash echoed around the cave and Santiago reacted before Max could even discern what had happened.
“Well, that was fast,” he said pulling a pistol from his trenchcoat.
“What do we do?” Max asked, rising to his feet.
“You gotta go, Max. Follow that trail down through the cave, go.” More splashing coupled with voices; they were moving fast.
“Are you coming?” Max asked as he scampered over a large rock.

“Nah, I can’t run anymore. Besides, someone’s got to greet them ashore.”

“What about the gate?”

“Find Gail at the Lighthouse. She’ll take you there. Oh, one final thing. I know it looks like a cool toy and all, but don’t use Arcon. Wait until you can get some proper training before...”

Gunfire interrupted Santiago, spraying sand into the air.

“GO.”

Max looked back at Santiago one last time before running full sprint toward the trail. He leapt over bushes, side-stepped boulders, and pushed through deep sand before he reached the hardened ground. Sweat found its way into his eyes.

More gunfire sounded near the camp. The Tekagi must have encountered Santiago. That meant Max must have less than a minute head-start on the assassins. He wondered how long the old man would contain them. Then his logic progression came to the true worry: what would he do if they caught up to him? He didn’t know how to use Arcon. He didn’t have any weapons. Max gripped the device in his pocket , if only to remind himself that he had some protection.

He dismissed his thoughts and focused on his movement. He scanned the trail up ahead where it snaked its way into a narrow corridor, almost like a miniature canyon. If he could make it there before the Tekagi saw him he wouldn’t have to worry about bullets coming at the back of his head.

After another 20 seconds of sprinting, he made it without incident. The gunfire back at the beach camp was sporadic and less frequent. But as long as there was gunfire, Santiago was still alive.

The cavern’s natural light began to disappear as the walls came in tighter. He navigated the trail by waving his hands. The walls were slimy and cold and the sand turned to mud in spots, slowing him down considerably. It was hard to hear anything over his own labored breathing, but he didn’t hear gunfire. Santiago was probably fine, he assured himself. His new, old uncle had proven himself extremely resourceful. Who knows what else he had in that trenchcoat.

He continued onward, clumsily feeling his way out of the narrow passage and into a mossy riverbed where the soft blue light returned.

A rumble shook through the ground. Max wondered if Santiago flashed away or perhaps he had some other powerful weapon. Regardless, he wouldn’t know the answer until later. He focused and moved forward along the riverbed.

In the distance, he could make out a few building and a lighthouse. That had to be the one Santiago was talking about. A small feeling of euphoria abated some of the choking fear inside him. With the help of illumination, Max was able to pick up his pace once more and view the vast expanse of the cavern. It seemed that this area was much larger than the beach area where they first entered and, oddly, much quieter.

As he marvelled, Max heard a distant sound -- feet slapping the riverbed. The noise carried from the narrow passageway he had just exited moments ago.

He gathered the last bit of his strength and pushed himself into a dead-sprint. This was it. All those dreams about something chasing him and now it was real. The small feeling of euphoria he had earlier evaporated with an explosion of dread. If he could just make it to the lighthouse, surely everything would be fine.

He crested a hill and glanced back, a decision he immediately regretted. Not more than a hundred feet away, Jacob Geist and another Tekagi man, were sprinting. And now they saw him and took aim. The sounds of their guns were exaggerated in the larger cavern, making the shots even more terrifying.

Max ducked instinctively, as a volley of bullets zipped nearby. He turned back toward Tourmaline and continued with a new burst of motivation.

Section IIIChapter IX

2003-01-01T12:47:00.000-08:00

Answers
Water. Everywhere.

At first, he thought the flash didn’t work and that they were still in the tow truck plummeting to the bottom of the bay. But there was no truck and they weren’t in salt water but fresh water. Max knew this because he sucked in a mouthful.

Trying his best to maintain his last lungful of air, he scissored his feet and swam to the surface. Santiago was already there, breathing heavily.

“You alright, boy?”
“Yea, I’ll be fine. Where are we?”
“I told you, Tourmaline,” Santiago’s voice repeated off of the walls and dissipated into the deep silence.

Max took a moment to take in their surroundings. They were in a large lake encircled by white beaches lit by glowing blue lights coming from the ceiling far, far above.

“Are we in a cave?”
“Yea, it’s about a thousand feet underground.”

His mouth dropped open in awe and a splash of water nearly choked him again. Coughing, he looked closer at the strange blue luminescence above. They were crystals, thousands of them and all various sizes, forming a dense web of intricate formations. How was this natural beauty possible?

“Come on, there’ll be time for gawking later.”
“Right.”

Max swam behind Santiago to the beach. It was eerie to know they were so far below the surface of the world, cut off from the living. Their breathing and splashing were the only noise in this pristine environment. Somehow, Max felt guilty for even making noise, like they were in a library. When they reached the beach they trudged through the bright sand a few feet from the shore before Santiago declared they stop to rest.

In low blue light, Max examined himself and then Santiago. They seemed to have survived the car chase unscathed. Santiago’s chest heaved up and down and a small whirring sound followed each exhale.

“What’s that sound?” Max asked, exasperated.
“My heart working.”
“Sounds weird like it’s machine.”
“It is.”
“How does it keep you alive?”
“Another story for another time, Max.”
“You promised you’d give me some answers,” Max began, harnessing his frustration, “now tell me everything. I don’t want anymore surprises.”
“Hah,” Santiago wheezed, “everything is going to be a surprise.”
“Where is Mia?”
“She’s a prisoner, held by the Reapers. My guess, they probably have her half way to Castle Kargen by now.”
“Who?”
“The Reapers, the guys the Tekagi work for, the guys who want you dead,” Santiago said, still panting. “A Reaper attacked you and your family with the sole purpose of capturing Mia and killing the rest of you, it would have succeeded had it not been for one of the Guardians stepping in.”
“Why my family? What does any of this stuff...” Max stammered gesturing toward the cave ceiling and above, “have to do with us?”
“Will never told you anything, did he?” Goosebumps spread across his skin and all the way up into the insides of his ears. His father’s name uttered from Santiago struck him hard. It added another pound of truth to the heavy reality he still couldn’t face--his parents were gone. “You aren’t from Earth.”

Max listened as the words played off the walls and slipped into the darkness. It’s as if his brain just took an electric jolt from a defibrillator. Not from Earth?

“You were born on Siros, what you call the Moon. You are a descendant of the Harlins, or as some cultures say, Star-people. Max, you and your family are sort of a big thing were I’m from.”
“Okay, so I’m an alien from the Moon--great.” Max quipped.
“Don’t look so confused boy. This is why I didn’t tell you earlier. It’s easier just to show you.”
“Then show me.”

Santiago smirked, a gesture that enhanced the lines around his eyes and cheeks. He sat up while drawing a hand to his metallic chest. He twisted a dial and a pressed a concealed button and a golden glow emanated from his front. Max watched as a hole appeared, deepening several inches into the old man’s thick chest directly into the space that a heart would normally occupy.

“I keep the most important things in here,” he began reaching into the hollow area delicately with his fingers, “such as this,” he said removing a metallic tube covered in a neon yellow goo. Strings of the gelatinous substance followed as Santiago brought it from his body. He gave the tube a shake, flinging globs of the substance everywhere. Max was simultaneously astonished and disgusted by the action. A familiar stench accosted his nose, the same stink that he encountered when he first met Santiago. He watched as his uncle twisted the tube, separating it down the middle, revealing a a dark brown cigar. “Ah, nothing like a Sculoro,” he said smelling the wrapping.

Max gave Santiago a sardonic stare. Sensing Max’s impatience, he put aside the cigar and reached back into his chest.

“Okay, okay. The other important thing I keep in here has been here since you were a chubby baby about 18 years ago,” his face contorted with concentration as his fingers worked inside him. Max couldn’t see much more than the glowing gold light, but he could hear machinery inside Santiago hum and click, much like a computer buzzing with electricity. “Got it,” he exclaimed and smirked.

The object Santiago withdrew, covered in yellow slime, looked similar to a wrist watch or a bracelet.

“Here, this belongs to you,” Santiago said, placing the item in Max’s hand.

Max brought the important thing closer to his eyes for inspection. It was, as he had thought, very much like a watch with bands that looked as if they could be fastened together. The material felt like rubber, but more flexible. At the center, where a clock face or digital display would normally be, Max discovered a peculiar crystal. It wasn’t bigger than a dime and so stayed within the confines of the thick band. Scrutinizing the centerpiece further, he saw movement. Something was alive inside the crystal, some sort of black swirl that rotated slowly. Whatever it was, Max was sure it wasn’t anything normal to Earth.

“What is it?” he asked.
“Probably the single most important thing that was ever entrusted to me. It’s called Arcon. It is the oldest of the Guardians.”
“What, you mean something like this saved me?”
“What you hold in your hand is a sort of, capsule or container,” he began searching for terms that Max could understand, “it is bound in that crystal, called a cinis, and the person wearing it can harness its power and control it, like a pilot controlling a machine. Whoever rescued you undoubtedly was wearing one of these.”
“Control it?”
“Yes, Arcon is a Guardian, an ultra-terrestial, a being with incredible power.”
“I don’t get it. You’re saying in this little shiny rock there is a super-powerful creature and it can somehow be controlled whenever. You’re saying this is a Guardian?”
“Basically, yes. You see Max, you have to suspend your understanding of reality. You have to accept that there are other technologies and laws of science besides the ones you are familiar with on Earth. It may not seem significant, but thousands of lives have perished in pursuit of that little rock.”
Max surveyed the cinis again, watching closely as the dark swirl made its continuous cycle.
“Why are you giving it to me?”
“It was your father’s, now it is yours. Only someone from the Harlin descent can control it. It’s hard proof of your true identity. If you want more proof just wait here a little longer and the Tekagi will gladly take care of you.”
“How can they find us here?”
“There are only so many doorways to Siros, they’ll quickly figure it out if they haven’t already.”
“This is too weird. I still don’t get why they took Mia.” Max said shaking his head.
“Mia has a code they want. A code that unlocks a very dangerous gateway. If they get it, Siros is done for and then Earth will quickly follow,” Santiago’s demeanor changed from serious to dire, “this is the real-deal, life and death...save your sister, and save the worlds.”

Chapter VIII

2002-04-01T20:02:00.000-08:00

Koa Arvis

Ariel was panting when she reached the top of the stairwell. She glanced back down the way she had come, seeing the tops of all the trees in Varejo and even further out into Koren. She could see all the glowing green specks of leaf light, and all the bright white lights of the roads. The view was breathtaking. If only the clouds didn’t cover the stars then it would be, like the Harlins would say, pulchra in the ancient tongue.

There was a large courtyard filled with tiny gardens and ancient statues that she would have to navigate before entering the temple. The ground she walked on was a mixture of soft dirt and lush moss. Her feet, no matter how gently she proceeded, sunk into the soil as if she were walking on a giant pillow. She passed by statues of deceased Koas and old heroes and between two gardens filled with ripe tomatoes.

In a sense, the temple was its own isolated village above Vareja. It had it’s own source of water collected from a natural aqueduct system in the upper branches, smaller trees growing everywhere that provided food along with the gardens, and wildlife was abundant despite the extreme height.

Ariel donned her hood and pulled her long brown hair and in front of her face and crossed the last bit of ground to the entrance, where two large doors with worn handles from generations of service awaited her grasp. This was it, no turning back now.

Before she could make the final commitment and rally her willpower, the handles turned and someone burst out from the inside, nearly knocking her over.

“Apologies, I didn’t see you there,” a tall, lean man said, catching her hand before she faltered off the stone steps.
“I’m fine, thanks,” she responded, taking her hand back. His hands were calloused and slender like the rest of his body.
She knew right away this stranger who nearly ran over her wasn’t from Koren. He wore foreign styled clothing and a hobbled along with a shiny black cane that was made from an exotic metal she had never seen.
“Good evening, Miss,” he said tipping his large brimmed hat in her direction.
Ariel watched as the stranger crossed the courtyard. He had to be some sort of dignitary or diplomat. Maybe if the Koa didn’t throw her out immediately she would ask about this man.

She regained her focus and slipped in through the doors, hoping the sudden encounter didn’t draw any attention to her.

Inside the temple, Ariel felt a soothing ambiance come over her. Everything from the smell to the lighting seemed intentionally designed to induce a sense of serenity and calmness. Glow vines wrapped around thick pillars and sprawled across the high ceiling emitted the familiar subtle green light, and running streams of water bubbled along hallways. The ancient building was awe inspiring and uplifting, but as she feared, a bustling crowd filled the main chamber.

She stood a moment, deciphering the make-up of people. Students, wearing matching white clothes, were packing their things and beginning to head out the door in troves, assistants were busy filing away documents and sending out last-minute correspondence, ambassadors from several Koren villages crowded the central commons having some heated discussion about water rights along the large Rica River, and emissaries from the far away nation of Suw were being treated to a ceremonial cup of tea.

Ariel decided to improv and just go with the flow. She picked up some papers sitting on a desk to her right and walked briskly toward the back of the chamber where individual rooms housed the tenants of the temple including the Koa.

She scanned her paper as if she were reviewing them closely and walked between the loud Koren diplomats and the Suw men sipping their tea. The Koa’s room was marked with the Vareja seal, two birds above a tree, and thus was easily discernible from the rest--she made a beeline for it and knocked.

“Come in,” a gruff voice said.
“Hello, Koa Arvin?” she asked meekly.
“Yes, yes, Come in.”

The Koa sat in a meditative posture out on a balcony connected to his room. His back was toward the entrance and to Ariel.

“Koa Arvin, sir, I’m so terribly sorry for disturbing you at this time, but I came to warn you.”
“Beware the Ides of March?”
“I’m sorry?”
“That’s a prudent warning.”
“I don’t understand sir.”
“Maybe not yet.”

He stood up, stretched, and turned to face her directly. Koa Arvin was old, some might say rickety even. When he moved a limb, undoubtedly a pop or snap followed. He’d been Koa since before she was born, and there were few people in Vareja that were still alive from a time that he wasn’t Koa. His hair was gone, his skin was wrinkled, and his spine was bent several different ways, but there was still a glimmer in his eyes like a sprinkle of youth untouched by the decades of time.

“Well, I was out in the Forbidden Sector when...”
“The Forbidden Sector?”
“Yea, I uh...occasionally take a walk out there.”
“I see. I guess the name didn’t persuade you otherwise.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Stop saying both those words, please.”
“Okay...well, while I was out there, I was chased by a Reaper. That’s what I’ve come to warn you about, sir. I mean, Koa. There are Reapers out there preparing for an attack,” Ariel said feeling a sense of relief.
“Reapers?”
“I know it sounds crazy.”
“Hmmm. Sounds serious to me. This happened today?”
“Yes, just a few hours ago.”
“Aren’t you due for your Summons this year?”
“Yes, but I don’t understand what that has to do with...”
“Ariel, let me worry about the Reapers.”
“But, sir they are so close to our village they could...”
“I’ve been aware of their presence for over a month now,” he said in his haggard voice, “rest assured plans have been put into effect and more are to come, in fact, you will play an important role.”
“Me?”
“Yes. I think now is a great opportunity to send you on your Summons.”
“I don’t understand. How can I protect Vareja if I’m not here.”
“See, before you arrived, I’d been meditating on what to do about another piece of intelligence that came to me earlier this day. The Reapers are preparing another attack, but not here in Koren or even this planet.”
“You mean...”
“Yes,” Koa Arvis said pointing out beyond the balcony into the cloudy night sky, “there.”
Ariel followed his crooked finger up into the sky as clouds began to reveal the object: a large, bright blue sphere with swirls of white clouds and spots of green--Earth.

Chapter VII

2002-03-01T16:35:00.000-08:00

Night Sparrow

The Koa was the defacto leader of each village in Koren. The council would advise and suggest, but ultimately power rested with that single person. If Ariel could convince him then no one would question her authenticity. The problem was: everyone knew everyone in Varejo. If someone saw her out this late, which she rarely was, they would probably question her or mention it to Gerrard. All the villagers knew the only reason to be outdoors at this hour was to collect water or to visit the pubs. Only those who had the mark from completing their Summons could be admitted into the boisterous dens. Obviously, that ruled Ariel out so she took a small vase with her as an alibi.

She set off at a brisk pace, trying her best to stay on the soft dirt and away from dried twigs. The temple was a little more than a mile away. If she could get in and out in under an hour then she would make it back home before Gerrard noticed anything. Even if he did, what could he do?

She stuck to the outer paths to avoid any curious glances. Only hunting parties coming home late would be on those trails and even then, they made so much noise on their return trip that she would have plenty of time to find cover.

The luminescent leaves were just beginning to glow when she reached the halfway point. One of the Koas from long ago figured out how to alter the leaves to make them absorb light during the day and release it at night, they didn’t give off as much brightness as the solar lights dotting the main road, but they released just enough so that you could see where you were walking. On several nights she would stay up late just to play under the lime glow. It was one of her mother’s favorite things to do.

She came across one of the main community wells; no one was there--good. As she walked into the open to cross the area she heard him.
“Psssst! Ariel,” came a voice from the foliage above.
She only knew one person strange enough to be hiding in the trees at this time of night.
“Pik, what are you doing?”
“Quiet, lower your voice. Tracking the Night Sparrow,” he replied.
“Pik, you know that they haven’t been seen for over a hundred years.”
“Shhhhh. It’s because of loud people like you. What are you doing out here?”
For an instant, she almost forgot her elaborate water excuse.
“Oh, I was just fetching a little bit of water for the morning.”
“Aren’t there like, three wells closer to your house?”
She hadn’t considered that anyone would actually think about the logistics of her excuse. Then again, she was talking to Pik, a boy up in a tree watching for extinct birds at night. She searched for a reasonable answer while walking closer to the tall Hodar tree.

“I dunno, I think this water has more nutrients. And since this water is for my little herb collection, it makes sense.”

“Whatever you say, Ariel. You are about to own the mark afterall.” Pik replied with heavy sarcasm.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on one of the hunting parties tonight?” She retorted. The branches rustled above her and leaves like tiny daggers, began to fall.

“I swear on my Kai, If you tell them anything about me being here. I’ll spread rumors that you and I were hooking up and that you made up a story to rat me out just to cover your own skin,” he shouted in a whispered tone.

“Oh don’t even, Pik. No one would believe your story anyway. Everyone knows the last time a girl kissed you it was during third year.”

“Yea, it was Kela Brambles too. She was hot.”

“Maybe before that thing grew on her neck.”

“Whatever.”

More rustling from above followed by a loud snap and Pik fell to the ground. Ariel couldn’t hold back her laughter.

Pik was a stocky boy. He’d been overweight for as long as Ariel had known him. It was a wonder that the branch had supported his weight as long as it had. Now Pik lay in a crumpled mass with his shaggy brown hair covering his face. He didn’t move.

“Pik, get up. Stop joking. I know you’re fine.”

No response from the boy.

“Pik?”

Ariel nudged him with her toe. He rolled slightly and the hair covering his face fell away revealing a trickle of blood on his forehead.

“Great.”

She knelt down beside him and wiped the rest of his hair away. The fall wasn’t that great, but maybe it was just enough to knock him out.

She tried to examine the wound, but it was difficult in the dim green light. She moved in closer and that’s when he kissed her--square on the lips.

“PIK!” She pulled away.

He rolled with laughter, “I got you. You totally fell for it. Haha, get it? Fell for it?”

“Uck. I can’t believe you. You’re disgusting. Go back up in your tree and stay there.”

Ariel landed a solid kick to his thigh and wiped vigorously at her mouth.

“Ouch. It wasn’t that bad come on.”

“Stay away from me, Pik. I never wanna see you again until after my Summons,” she said stomping away.

“You forgot your vase, your highness.”

Ariel kept walking down the path toward the temple. She was fuming. The audacity of that nerdy, fat boy. What made him think he could just steal kisses like that? No, it wasn’t even a kiss. It was him trying to kiss her. Yet, he wasn’t as chunky as he usually was, but that was beside the point. He was still vulgar and gross. She spit until her mouth was dry for good measure.

Ariel continued slightly off the path and let her mind wonder. At first she thought of what she was going to say to the Kao then, gradually her thoughts ventured off in different directions.She wondered if Pik would survive if Reapers attacked tomorrow. The unsettling thoughts reaffirmed her commitment to warn the Koa.

After a few more minutes of speed-walking, she reached the top of a hill and paused. The ancient tree that housed the temple was a short distance away. It was a very rare tree and the oldest in the valley. Legends say it was the first tree planted on Koren, which would make sense because it was unmistakeably the tallest tree she, or anyone for that matter, had every seen. Its branches seemed to disappear into the sky, like a pillar holding up the atmosphere. Purple lights lit up the walls of the temple. It was nestled in the center of the tree, right where the major branches diverted from the trunk. The temple itself was tiny in comparison to the tree. Ariel knew, somewhere in that building, the Koa was getting ready for sleep.

Already, her steps each became more feeble than the last. What if he doesn’t admit her? What if he is already asleep? The Koa was the last person she would want to startle; he could end her life before she could finish blinking. That was one of the reasons why the temple was unguarded. Yet, it was always full of emissaries, students, assistants, and other sorts of busy people working all hours of the day. It was these people that Ariel wanted to avoid. They ask too many questions.

As she reached the beginning of the spiralling staircase, Ariel undid her NAV suit, rolled it up, and stuffed it in the side of her boot. She adjusted her white garments one final time before she scaled the stairwell.

Chapter VI

2002-02-01T23:06:00.000-08:00

Locus Amoenus

“The Reaper, a quarter-ton predator equipped with a thousand ways to tear a human apart. It is, in a word, death. It prefers humans over any other prey. It can run, jump, and disappear faster than your eye can follow. Dark as the FS, with claws sharper than any blade the Harlins ever forged, it is the perfect killing machine ladies and gentlemen. I’m not telling you this to scare you: I’m educating you. Knowing this gives you an additional second to react on the battlefield. Doesn’t sound like much, right? A second? Well, that little fragment of time could easily be the difference between getting scratched or getting disemboweled.”
-Proctor Hart

Gerrard was a big man, muscled, rugged, and towering in stature. He was so big that Ariel often likened him to the sturdy Brok tree that grew all over Varejo and the rest of Koren. And, like the gigantic trees, he was obstinate, abrasive, and silent. Getting through his bark was challenging and often impossible; he kept everything close to the chest.

“I know what I saw, Gerrad,” Ariel whined. She had explained the encounter as soon as she walked into their small home built into a hill overlooking the forest village.
“Don’t call me that. I’m still your father you know. Last I checked you hadn’t completed your Summons,” Gerrard responded.
“Will you please just trust me for once. I have evidence.”
“Do you really want me to bring this up to the council? They will ask you so many questions your head will spin. Starting with, have you been shooting fizz.”
“I have a scanned image of its track. It proves it is out there.”
“Ariel, that track could be from seven years ago. There are thousands of old prints in the FS. You’re letting your imagination get to you.”

“I KNOW what I saw,” she screamed storming off to her room.

She was shaking with frustration as she climbed the stairwell and collapsed onto her bed. Feelings of anxiety and fear surfaced as thoughts of the creature returned. She could still hear the loud pounding of the gate.

It was moments like this she wished Gerrard wasn’t so overbearing and cautious. Ever since her mother passed, he had taken it upon himself to oversee every aspect of her life. He had an awkward way of treating her like she was a wild animal in captivity; always under close scrutiny but never close enough for contact. She knew he cared about her, but he still didn’t trust her. That distrust widened the rift between them everyday.

Ariel’s comm blinked. Gerrard. He always did that when things got heated. Instead of talking to her directly he would leave her a voice-mail, probably an apology coupled with an excuse about her best interests being his priority. She had heard it all before. Grabbing the earphone device, she plugged it into her right ear and pressed play.

He wanted her to send him the image of the track. She wondered if he was merely trying to placate her or if he actually intended to bring it up to the council.

She looked out her circular window and down into the lush forest valley of Varejo. It was getting dark and the dense foliage was soaking up the setting sun’s artificial light, reflecting twilight tenses of burgundy and gold. She had lived in this valley her entire life: climbed every tree, tasted every river, walked barefoot on the crunchy leaves every Autumn. She listened as purplebirds sang from the branches nearby, lamenting the loss of the light.

Ariel released the compression seal on her NAV suit by twisting the band on her left wrist. The tight suit instantly became baggy. She undid the strap on the back of her neck and pulled the zipper down the length of her spine. Slipping out of the black fabric, she went to her small closet to put on her nightgown. She pauses just as her hand touches the hanger.

She was, like nearly all of the Koren people, slender with lean muscles developed from years of outdoor living. Their society was simple and tribal, but physically demanding. The elders usually harvested food in large community gardens while the young and able hunted daily to supply meat for their villages, Ariel had proven to be an excellent hunter. Other important duties were often divided among those who had completed their Summons. Councils oversaw the other more boring matters of the villages, dealing with other nations and such. She couldn’t stand hearing Gerrard ramble about trade deals on his comm. Varejo, in particular, was self-sufficient and even slightly prosperous; they would export rare berries every season to the desert nation of Rocix. Other than seasonal caravans and roving explorers, Varejo was isolated; nestled in the far northern corner of Koren and bordered on three sides by the FS. Perhaps it was this natural isolation and closeness to the FS that anchored Varejo in Ariel’s heart. She loved this place; it suited her and it would always be her home.

In one month she would be on her Summons and separated from Varejo, Koren, and the rest of the world. Cut off from the nourishment and the familiarity of her childhood. The feeling struck her hard in the gut and nausea set in. What if it was all destroyed? The last time Reapers were seen hundreds of Korens were brutally killed. What if they were gathering for another attack?

It was time for her to take responsibility for what she cared about and become her own person. She couldn’t wait a month. She had to do this herself: for her. Damn the footprint. She would make the Proctor believe, better yet, she’d convince the Koa himself. Instead of putting on her nightgown, Ariel shifted it aside and put on her white temple garb.

It would be suspicious to walk around outside the temple in the white clothes during nighttime so she slipped the NAV suit back on, twisting the left wristband the opposite direction this time. It made a quick loud, sucking sound as the fabric shrunk, pushing out the air. She studied her reflection in the glass of the window. The outline of the cloth underneath could be seen in some areas, but it would be too dark for anyone to notice anything odd.

She walked over to the wooden nightstand by her bed and opened the top drawer. The red earring that was once her mother’s was there, resting on a scrap of cloth. It looked simple, a small loop of polished metal. However, to Ariel, it was the only thing she had to remind her about her mother-- it was invaluable. She clipped it on through the hole in her right ear and removed the comm, dropping the blinking device in the drawer.

Section IIChapter V

2002-01-01T23:05:00.000-08:00

Forbidden

Ariel could spend hours in the uncharted darkness of the Forbidden Sector, or FS as it was called among her peers. She was enthralled with the concept of nothingness; for, in the FS there was no sound, no light, simply black empty space. She liked holding her gloved hand out in front of her and not seeing it. She liked the silence of everything but her thoughts. Ariel couldn’t even hear her own footsteps as she walked out further into the unknown.

Ariel didn’t really knew how far she trekked into the void, but she knew how long she was out there. Her NAV system would tell her the exact duration of the venture. Although, Ariel never checked it until she returned to the gate, not wanting to pollute the darkness with the white display light. To date, her longest episode was four hours and thirty-seven minutes. It had been one of the worst days of her life and she had needed an escape: the day her mother died. Normally Ariel would repress such memories, but out here, no one could see her cry. She was eleven years old when she passed. She was one of the ones that perished on the last voyage to Nitos, before they sealed the gate.

She walked onward, the smooth ancient ground unchanging. Sometimes she imagined she was walking in a giant circle or maybe the ground was moving and she wasn’t: anything was possible in nothing.

Ariel was 18 now and about to go on her Summon, a rite-of-passage that all Kai Warriors had to complete. Her father, Gerrard, had since been appointed councillor, one of nine, who ruled Vareja. Things had really changed since seven years ago, but Ariel would never forget the happiness that once was.

Her comm light flickered. A light blue flash in the long depths of darkness like a tiny supernova. That was probably him, she reasoned. Ariel clicked a button on her helmet just below her ear.

“Yea, what’s up.”

“Where are you?”

“Nowhere, why?”

“The council meeting is starting.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t notice the time.”

“You’ve got to be more cognizant Ariel.”

“Yep.”

“Alright.”

The line beeped a low tone twice, telling her the conversation was over. She did an about-face and headed in the direction of the gate. There weren’t enough hours in a day for her to unwind. There was always something, some anchor, pulling her back down to reality. Typically, it was her father.

She followed her guide line, reeling it back into the holder, toward the gate. She turned her visor lights on, giving her eyes time to readjust and lighting her path. She loved how faithfully her footprints were preserved in the dusty soil. Every single one, since she had first discovered a secret way into the FS, all those years ago, were still frozen in place. She could see how her foot had grown slightly larger every year. The ground was the only thing her light could illuminate. The walls, excluding the ones around the gate, were too far away for her light to reach them, giving the FS a real sense of infinity. Maybe that was why no one was allowed out here, because they couldn’t handle not knowing, not seeing an end to the expanse.

She was half-way to the gate when a specific footprint caught her attention. Ariel paused and focused her tiny light on the track.

It wasn’t anything she had ever seen before and it definitely wasn’t her footprint. It was twice the size and four-toed with a indention three times as deep. Ariel thought it might look like an inverted heart. She turned her bright helmetlight on, giving her ample clarity to inspect further. When her eyes focused she nearly screamed.

It was a Reaper track.

Panicking, she clicked off her light and punched a button on her left forearm, initiating her combat mode. There hadn’t been a Reaper sighting in seven years. Had they been out here all along? How naive. She just revealed her location to the whole Forbidden Sector, like a beacon for all to see.

The NAV system scanned the area--nothing. That didn’t make her feel any better, Ariel knew her suit NAV was limited to 100 meters. A Reaper could close that distance in under five seconds. She wouldn’t hear it coming, but she might feel the vibrations of its heavy body pounding the ground.

Ariel scanned the footprint one more time, saving the data. She would have to report this right away. Gerrard was going to be pissed.

She hurried back along the path, reeling in the line as fast as her fingers could crank. Her NAV system showed her surroundings in a soft red and pinpointed the gate’s location with a green dot on the horizon. She always layed the guide line just in-case her NAV went down, she liked the empty darkness but she didn’t want to be trapped out here. Yet, in this situation, she wished she had forgone that precaution.

Her legs began to burn with fatigue. She was almost there, only 30 meters remaining. Maybe the track had always been there and she had simply never noticed before? Maybe it was a prank from one of her friends?

A subtle vibration worked its way up her bones. Oh no.

Ariel dropped the line and ran full-sprint toward the gate. The NAV began to ring, it was picking up a signal behind her. The entrance was so close.

She wasn’t going to take any chances. Ariel popped a flare and dropped it, the smoke would help disguise her and the sudden light might distract it. Then, focusing all her energy and remembering the lessons in class, she channelled her Kai to her feet and jumped the last 20 meters. She sent the signal to open the gate mid-flight, timing it to match her landing.

The gate opened, showering the area with welcoming white light and glowing green around the frame. Ariel landed, tumbling through the entrance. She turned, facing back out into the darkness and signalled the door to close. The flare was still burning, billowing out blue smoke. Just before the door sealed shut, a silhouette appeared in front of the flare--eyes glowing yellow.

Ariel attempted to control her breathing. It was difficult considering she had used up most of her energy on the jump. She remained on the ground, letting the feeling of safety sink in. There was no way a Reaper would be able to break through the gateway. A half-pound of Pyron probably couldn’t even do it, and that would level a block of buildings. She let her eyes wander while her lungs worked overtime.

The guide line. It was still attached to the post beside her and the rest of it was still out there. The door hadn’t severed the connection, only pinched it. She gasped.

The line snapped taunt. The gate’s lights blinked a cautionary red, sensing a manual override.

No, this can’t be happening. Ariel activated her suit’s dual-saber and cut at the wire. The Reaper slammed against the door, shaking the frame. The dual-saber retracted from her right fore-arm; a blade running along each side of her hand and slightly above it. Ariel sawed in desperate motions at the line.

SNAP.

The wire swirled like headless snake back through the gate and into FS. The knocking stopped and the gate glowed a soothing green once more. Gerrard was going to be pissed.

Chapter IV

2001-04-01T00:29:00.000-08:00

Over the Bridge

Max felt a tingling sensation all over his body like he was covered in static. Similar to having his leg fall asleep, the experience couldn’t quite be described as painful, more so uncomfortable. The high-pitched ring he had heard earlier was now fully absorbed into his head like a screaming alarm. He realized they were in the cab of a tow-truck. Max was gripping Santiago, both of them had thin wisps of smoke trailing off their bodies.

“You can let go,” Santiago said.
“What just happened?”
“We flashed.”
“What do you mean, flashed?”
“Max, I can’t answer all of your questions right now. Just keep an eye out behind us for any followers and put that vest on.” He gestured to a thick kevlar vest lying on the passenger floor.
“Why are they trying to kill me?”
“Just put the vest on.”

Max moved over and strapped the heavy body armor on while Santiago cranked up the engine. The enormous motor came to life and they sped down the road, away from the hospital, leaving a trail of black exhaust in their wake. Max did as Santiago ordered, watching their back.

“At least tell me where we are going.”
“To Tourmaline,” Santiago barked.
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“Few have.”

Santiago shifted up to a higher gear and the engine grunted. Keeping his eyes dead ahead, he clenched his scruffy jaw as if he were chewing on his anxiety. Max knew they had to be driving over the speed limit. He watched the road behind them hoping no policemen were nearby.

“If we can just make it over Harbor Bridge we’ll be safe,” Santiago explained.

Max could feel the road gradually incline. He took a moment to observe Santiago and reflect on what had happened the past twenty-four hours. Seeing him in daylight was very revealing, he looked much older than Max had originally perceived, and his coat was pockmarked with holes, stains, and tears. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought Santiago was just an eccentric bum, not some superhero. As Max scrutinized his lined face he recalled what Santiago had said the night before, “Your uncle.” Max tried to imagine what the old man might have looked like when he was younger. Maybe, under all that gray, dirty hair, there were some physical similarities between them.

His thoughts were interrupted when a large vehicle caught his attention. A black armored truck was gaining on them --- fast.

“Uhh. . .Sant---”

A bullet punched through the back window and zipped out the front windshield, sending bits of glass flying in every direction.

“Hang on!” Santiago shouted, slamming his heavy boot on the gas pedal. He weaved in-between cars barely missing a small Honda Accord. The tow truck lurched upward, climbing the steep grade of the bridge.

The armored truck was quickly closing the distance. Max watched as it slammed into the back of the Honda they had just passed, causing it to spin into the other lane.

They were nearly to the top of the bridge, confined to its narrow lanes by two cement barricades on either side: there was no way they were going to out-run the Tekagi. More bullets tore through the cab as the black truck pulled up right behind them.

“We are going to have to take a shortcut. Get ready, Max.”

Just as the armored truck pulled up along their left side, giving the gunman in the passenger seat a clean shot, Santiago spun the wheel sharply to the right, sending the tow-truck slamming over the barricade and off the crest of the Harbor Bridge.

To the people lounging on the beach, they would have seen what would look like the most extreme accident in the city’s history. A large tow-truck somehow drove over the bridge’s barricade and was free-falling toward the bay. The distance of the drop had to be over a hundred feet. Just before the truck disappeared into the water, there was a bright flash from inside the cab. By the time the local news channel arrived, everyone had a different explanation: some said they saw a small explosion just before it hit, others said it was the airbags deploying, then a few rationalized it as a failed terrorist attempt; regardless, all the witnesses were shocked. The real shock wouldn’t come till later though. When, after two full days of searching, no bodies were recovered.

Chapter III

2001-03-01T11:47:00.000-08:00

Against Medical Advise

The next morning, Max woke to the nurse entering his room. She glanced at his chart, checked the machines, then pulled back the curtains letting the light in. He closed his eyes instinctively and remembered Santiago’s white flash earlier. How did he do that?
“Good morning. How is your chest feeling?”
“Not bad, I guess.”
“Does the wrap feel too tight?”
“No, It’s fine thanks. Any word on my sister?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I just started my shift a few hours ago. No one mentioned anything to me. Would you like me to contact her for you?”

Max paused. Maybe Mia had made it back home somehow. Maybe she was trying to find him.

“Yea, call my home number please.”
“Of course. I’m surprised no one offered earlier. I can’t believe you’ve been here all alone since last night.”

He checked the side of his bed for the device Santiago had left him. The small black orb was there, confirming the mysterious episode. It was identical to a ping pong ball except it weighed about half a pound. He let his finger drift across the indented button. Did he really know the truth about Mia?

The nurse went about her routine. She helped him out of bed so he could use the restroom, shocking his inert muscles. He didn’t realize how weak he was until trying to stand still in front of the toilet. Good thing he didn’t attempt to leave last night because he wouldn’t have gotten far. When he returned to his bed, the nurse informed him that he would be getting his breakfast in a few minutes followed by a meeting with the counselor.

It took all of his effort to remain in the bed and finish his food. It tasted like cooked cardboard but that didn’t slow him down. Max shoveled it all into his mouth. He wanted nothing more than to be free to find his sister. Free to find answers. He waited anxiously for the nurse to return.

“Ummm. . . Mr. Masterson?” the nurse said, poking her head into the room.
“Was she there at home?!” Max blurted.
“No, she wasn’t. But your friend, Jacob Geist, answered the phone. He is really worried about you and said he’d be visiting as soon as possible.”

Max had never heard of a Jacob Geist, was this who Santiago warned him about?

“What else did he say?”
“He asked if you needed fresh clothes and what room you were in.”

Max felt exposed. Santiago had called them the Tekagi. Max had never heard of that either. Why were these strangers pretending to know him? Whatever the reason, they now knew exactly where to find him, and that made Max feel uneasy.

The nurse was saying something about the counselor, he wasn’t really listening, when an urgent announcement played over the intercom in the hallway. The nurse stopped mid-sentence and quickly exited the room. Max could see other nurses running past the window through the glass door, all were heading the same direction. Someone was probably coming in off an ambulance, Max reasoned. He looked down at his chest and wondered how long it would take to heal. The pain only made itself known when he extended his left arm too far, stretching the skin around the cut, besides that he felt fit to do any other activity. He let out a long sigh and noticed how quiet it was all of a sudden.

Just then, the door to Max’s room opened and three large men entered. Right away, Max knew they didn’t belong in the hospital. They wore stark white masks that completely covered their faces and black suits. The masks were of a plain, almost featureless face like a marble statue. Their dark eyes showed through the holes and focused on him. They moved with clear purpose and without any acknowledgement. Max remained frozen as the one nearest reached up and, with a gloved hand, slowly removed his mask.
He was pale, covered in tattoos, and had no hair whatsoever. Slowly, his lips curled into a smile.
"Hi, Max. I'm Jacob Geist and these two are my associates. We are here to transfer you to a safe place." Max didn't dare reply, even if he thought he could move his jaw he wouldn't know what to say. The man's hawk-like eyes were bright red. They seemed strangely hypnotic.
"Unfortunately, your questions will have to wait until later. We have a schedule to keep. Now, I need you to take these pills," he said, reaching into his coat pocket.
Likewise, the two men in the back began withdrawing some sort of metallic tube from their pockets. Max didn't wait to see what it was.

He pushed the button on the device Santiago had given him.

Like before, there was brilliant white flash except this time, instead of a low hum, there was a high-pitched ringing in the air. The noise was so shrill that it briefly overwhelmed all other sounds. The device in Max’s hand grew hot, too hot to hold; he dropped it to the floor.

Max smelled him before he saw him -- Santiago was standing at his side, just in front of the three intruders. Smoke curled off his trechcoat.

“Howdy.” Santiago said just as he kicked Geist square in the chest, launching him off the ground.

Max watched dumbstruck as the man sailed through the air and crashed into the door fifteen feet away; Santiago’s strength was incredible. The other two men reacted. There was a snap sound then the metallic tubes in their hands extended into baton-like swords.

“Max, put this on!” Santiago ordered as he threw what looked like a wrist-watch to him. Max didn’t hesitate.

The masked men charged, raising their swords for an attack. Santiago picked up a nearby machine and hurled it at them with a grunt. The machine must've weighed over 200 pounds but he threw it like it was a basketball. Despite the speed, the men deftly maneuvered around the missile and continued forward unphased. Santiago checked Max's wrist, seeing the device secured he pressed a button on his neck below his right ear. The suit made a whirring noise, and with his enormous strength he pulled Max close to his chest in an awkward hug.

“Sayonara.” Santiago said while making a gesture with his middle finger. There was the familiar low mechanical hum. The two men lunged with their swords, stabbing the empty space where Max and Santiago had just been.g the empty space where Max had just been.

Chapter II

2001-02-02T11:45:00.000-08:00

Raison d'être

Something was chasing him. He didn't know what it was, but he knew it was big, very big. The ground shook and he felt the vibrations in his teeth. Max tried to run faster, tried to scream but could do neither. The monster was catching up to him. All he could do was panic and be helpless. He could hear it opening its large mouth, feel its warm breath on his neck, feel its claws digging into his chest. . .

Max awoke. He took in a deep breath and clutched his chest. The pain was real; his heart was racing. He winced and removed his hand. A new white bandage wrapped his breast. He eased the muscles in his neck, letting his head sink into the pillow and listened to his heart slow. The room was dark, except for the L.E.D. lights on all the electrical equipment. There must have been over 50 of the small busy dots. His thoughts returned to Mia and his heart raced once again. He wondered what had happened and why they hadn't found her yet. She had been there, he knew, right next to him. Explanations filled his head. Max reasoned that anything could have happened in the chaotic aftermath of the crash but whatever the case, Mia was still alive. Max knew it to be true. He would look for her at friends' houses and the park they sometimes played at on Sundays, the one right on the bayfront. He hoped she was somewhere safe, wherever she was, and not wandering alone. She was only nine years old; he had to find her.

Max threw off the blanket and began to remove the monitoring wires from his body.

“I wouldn't do that,” a man's voice said from somewhere to the right of the bed, “the nurse will be here in a heartbeat, no pun intended.”

Max scanned the area. It was too dark to see anything beyond the empty chair next to his bed. The voice didn't belong to anyone he knew. The confidence in the tone unsettled Max. Why, he thought, would someone be watching him in the dark?

“Who's there?”

A chuckle and a pause.

“Your uncle.”

The words sent shivers up his spine—he didn't have an uncle.

“What do you mean?”

“We've never met. Allow me to introduce myself.”

Just then, a portion of the small L.E.D. lights moved. Max could hear heavy boots coming towards him. The man claiming to be his uncle sat down in the chair barely three feet away. Max held his breath.

“I'm Santiago, your dad's half-brother.”

He lit a match exposing a gloved hand. The match moved upward revealing his face. He was old. Gray stubble covered his square jaw, lines curved up and down his liver-spotted face, and long unkempt salt and pepper hair dragged against his broad shoulders. There was a cigar in Santiago's mouth that met the match. He puffed twice, igniting the tip, and shook the match out leaving behind a sulfurous swirl.

“I'd turn the light on,” he began, exhaling a plume of smoke, “but that would attract unwanted attention.”

From the cigar and the other dim light sources available to him, Max was able to make out certain odd features of this stranger. He was wearing what appeared to be a trenchcoat. Underneath the brown coat was the source of the moving lights, some sort of complex metal suit that covered everything except his hands and face. He was brawny and tall for his age or the suit made it seem that way. And there was something else; Santiago stunk. It wasn't just the tobacco burning it was something mildewy clinging to his clothes.

“I'm sorry for your loss, Max.”

He could see Santiago's eyes, gray like the rest of him and serious. Max wanted to respond, he wanted to ask so many questions, but bewilderment stayed his tongue.

“I know about Mia too. She is still alive.”

Hearing her name on a stranger's lips hooked his attention. Alive? How did he know?

“We are doing everything we can to find her, but right now we need to ensure your safety. Under normal circumstances, this would be the safest place. . .”

“Who are you really? How do you know about Mia and my family?”

“Max, I'd love to chit-chat and bring out the old photo albums, but there is no time. They know you survived. They will be here soon.”

“Forget it. I don't believe you.”

“Okay. I understand. You just survived a traumatic event, you're very confused, you're angry: I get it. Now, here's what I'm going to do,” he pulled an object out from his pocket, “this is a flash beacon, something I made myself.” Santiago held up what looked like a jumbo gumball.

“I don't. . .”

“Listen, when they come for you, all you have to do is press this little button, here, and I'll do the rest. Got it?” He slapped the device into Max's palm.

“Who is they?”

“The Tekagi.”

Santiago lifted himself out of the chair and walked back into the darkness; the lights on his suit fitting back into the sequence of dots like a puzzle piece. Max could see the red glow of his cigar as Santiago took one final deep drag.

There was a brilliant flash of white light and a low mechanical hum, then Santiago's mysterious presence, and fowl smell, was gone.

Section IChapter I

2001-01-01T14:06:00.000-08:00

Survivor

“He looks pretty rough. Poor kid.”

“Well, somehow he survived. He has a deep laceration on his chest that will take awhile to heal. Another inch or so and his heart would have been pierced. The rest is just contusions."

“To be honest, it isn’t the physical healing I’m worried about. How old is he?”

“Let’s see,” shuffling papers, “19.”

“Jesus, that’s barely an adult nowadays. Was he living with his family?”

“No, the nurse found a student I.D. in his wallet, some college in San Antonio.”

“Must have been visiting for the holiday weekend.”

“Yea probably. How’s the case going?”

“We got the VIN number off the perps vehicle but it was a dead end. Didn’t even try and help the family. He just ran. People these days; I swear it’s getting worse.”

“I hear ya. I see it every day, too.”

“Is he going to wake up soon or should I come back tomorrow?”

“I’m not sure, let me check, Officer.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

Max heard the doctor’s footsteps approach his bed. He didn’t bother closing his eyes. There was no use in feigning sleep any longer.
  "Hello Max. How are you feeling?" the doctor asked. Max could sense his professional demeanor like cold metal touching skin. He let his eyes wander over the man, his tag said Davidson. Max didn't respond.
  "This is Christus Spohn Hospital. You were in a serious accident. Do you remember?" He paused. "You suffered a deep laceration in your left pectoral muscle. The sutures will need to be removed in eight days and..."
  "What about my family." The words escaped from his mouth all at once. Each syllable, every phoneme, clawed up his throat on their way out to pronunciation. Doctor Davidson sighed.
  "Max, I'm sorry but they didn't make it. They were pronounced dead on arrival. I'm so sorry." The Doctor placed his hand on Max's unbandaged right shoulder. Max took a moment to keep his composure. He asked the question already knowing the answer. The last thing he saw before going unconscious was his little sister, sitting next to him in the backseat, her small legs and arms suspended briefly in the air, like a ballerina in zero-gravity. The image brought hot tears to his eyes; he couldn't contain them.
  "Do you have any relatives or friends we can notify for you?"
  "I don't know right now," he managed to respond.
  "That's okay. You've been through a lot, you shouldn't exert yourself in any way."
  "How did this happen?"
  "Well, let me direct your question to Officer Dryer. He was first on the scene and he has a few questions of his own." Doctor Davidson gave a nod toward the entrance of the room.
  Officer Dryer, an older policeman with thick glasses, a white mustache, and a head so bald it reflected the florescent lighting, approached his bed.
  "Hello, son." Dryer had a warm voice, the type that rang of modest confidence and ancient wisdom. "Glad to see you are awake." Dryer placed his steaming coffee on the stand next to the bed and eased himself into a padded chair.
  "Can you explain what happened?" Max didn't like hearing his own voice. It sounded broken.
  "You were in a head-on collision with a large truck, a Ford 350," he began. His voice reminded him of an old cowboy's, like the ones he used to watch on T.V. with his Dad when he was younger.
   "Both vehicles were going about sixty miles per hour. We still aren't sure about all the details, we were hoping you could help, but we do know that the driver of the truck was at fault and that he fled on foot." Dryer paused. "A nice lady named Mrs. Conners was the first person on the scene. She is the one who put the call into emergency services, but by then, the other driver was gone. No one saw him. She found you..." he paused again, "outside of the car lying on your back, unconscious. By the time I got there, another pedestrian was trying to bandage your chest. Max, it's a miracle that you were thrown from the car, it saved your life." He took another swig of his coffee while his eyes remained on the boy.
  Max let the information steep into his consciousness. Part of him wanted to yell at the officer, scream how unfair it was that the guy responsible was still out there: alive and free. The other part was burdened with more sadness, so much so that he felt nauseous. His stomach was hollow and his throat tightened, making speech a great effort. Then confusion arose. Hadn't he been wearing his seatbelt? Max tried to recall, but his memory was foggy.
  "What happens now?" Max said.
  "Now, you rest easy. You need to let your body fix itself. We will check back with you tomorrow before you are released from the hospital."
  Let his body fix itself? Max knew he was injured in a way that would never be fixed. By losing his parents and his sister he had forever lost a big piece of himself: it was a wound that was impossible to heal. Max felt a crushing weight of selfishness; his family perished but he had survived. Somehow, he had been spared while his family was taken from this world. It wasn't right. He would have gladly given up his life so that they could have lived instead. Max bit his lip in a failed attempt to control his emotions.
  Officer Dryer rose from his seat and adjusted his belt. Max could tell he wanted to say more; say something to comfort him. Instead, his mouth hung open a little and he sighed. Maybe he was searching for some sort of hope to impart on him, something to keep his chin up. The old man remained silent.
  Doctor Davidson walked the officer out of the room. The two men conversed in the hallway just out of Max's hearing range. When the doctor returned he was consulting his clipboard.
  "Christus Spohn has a counselor, her name is Mrs. Lear. The sessions are voluntary, but I recommend you do a least one. It will help answer some of your questions. She works during the day so it's too late right now," he glanced at his sport watch. "Is there anyone you want to see until then? Is there a sibling or relative we can contact for you?" He flipped through his clipboard again. "It says here," he paused, "Mia Masterson is your sister. What about her?"
  Max was taken aback. Was this guy completely ignorant or was that just an honest mistake? A doctor should know better than to confuse details like that.
  "Mia was in the car." Max corrected.
  Doctor Davidson frowned.
  "Max, it was just you and your parents. No one else was in the car."
  "Mia was right next to me! They didn't find her?" Max began to shout, hurting his throat.
  "Max! Calm down, your sister wasn't there! The paramedics, Officer Dryer, everybody on the scene only saw you and your parents. They would have found her body."
  "What if she was thrown from the car like me!"
  "Still, they would have found her. The emergency crew was there and then the police were searching the area for the driver that fled. Max, relax! Your sister is safe somewhere."
  "NO! You're WRONG!" Max yelled, his voice choked by panic. He wanted to get out of there. He had to go find Mia. Max struggled to sit upright. The doctor dropped his clipboard and pushed Max back down. Max fought against his hold, twisting and turning as much as he could. Then, he felt an explosion of pain in his chest. His stitches had torn. Crimson blood seeped through the white hospital gown. Max slipped back into unconsciousness.