It was hard to hear each of them share their memories about Lincoln, especially Jack, who now appeared to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. Guilt lined his face; no doubt he felt remorse for having kept his secret from them, even if it had been motivated by love. Travis couldn’t fault him. They each could blame themselves if they looked deeply enough at their actions over the past few weeks.
Mason was last to speak. Closest to Lincoln, he reminisced about the generosity of Lincoln’s family having taken him in as a child and how he considered Lincoln like a brother. There were shared moments of laughter as he recalled their conversations, but by the time he was finished there wasn’t a dry eye to be found.
As each of them peeled off into the dark, Travis looked back at the flames flickering up into the night sky. The Guardians were not much different from the race they had chosen to protect. And likewise humans were not much different from them. They believed that when they died, their souls returned to the place from which they had come, the great ethereal home beyond the stars, beyond dimensions and beyond the hate, to be reunited with their loved ones. He hadn’t known Lincoln well, but in the time he had, he had come to like him. He imagined if he had still been alive they would have surely been the closest of friends. As the bright, crackling swirls of orange, red and yellow danced their way upwards, Travis hoped that wherever he was, he could now rest.
Travis snapped back into the present moment as a live update given by the Los Alamos Fire Chief came on discussing the work being done to extinguish the wildfires. Set against the backdrop of Ashley Pond, he congratulated everyone who had helped and reassured the community that even though they were still putting out spot fires, they had all but contained the blaze. There was no mention of bodies found or talk of Harlan Kaine. It was as if the world had opened up and swallowed all trace of them. Looking back on the terror of that night and how close the world had come to being enslaved, maybe it was best that way.
Folks in the sleepy town were now attempting to pick up the pieces and return to normal, whatever normal was. While only a few homes were lost to the fire, many businesses, including the hospital, had to be cleaned before they could reopen. Clean-up crews and the entire community came together to make sure the town was once again livable. And yet far from this, Travis couldn’t help but think about all those who hadn’t been able to escape the destruction at the base. How each one he saw was someone’s father, mother, sister or brother, and even though he’d experienced the gut-wrenching pain of losing his own father, at least he had known what had happened to him. He imagined families around the country still pinning up flyers in convenience stores and on sign posts, never knowing what had happened to their loved ones and yet clinging to even a sliver of hope. Hope that he knew was the only thing they would ever have to hold.
Preparing for his father’s funeral had been difficult—the arrangements, the phone calls to relatives—and yet the support they had received from Rick, Frank and even Jack had been overwhelming. Jayde filled him in on how things were progressing with Jack. Trust had been broken, and it would take time to rebuild it. But with The Black Hole in ruins, they would need to rebuild and that would give them plenty of time.
He stared now at the photo lodged into the side of the wooden frame around his mirror. It spoke of better times, his father, Will and him together. A happy moment frozen in time, one they would never share again. Everything had changed, including himself. There was no way of knowing to what extent the change inside would bring. All he knew was that he was no longer ordinary. The following months, if he even had that long to live, would hopefully answer the questions, unearth mysteries and hopefully shed light on Will’s whereabouts. Behind him Travis heard a gentle knocking at his door; he turned to see his mother. Dressed in a black skirt, her hair pinned back, she looked worn and yet loving in every way. She offered a strained smile before walking in.
He pulled frustratingly at his tie.
“This tie …” Travis wasn’t used to wearing formal clothes or anything that required him to know forms of origami. He’d only ever once worn a tie and that was enough.
“Let me do it.” She unfolded it and began skillfully looping it around as if it was second nature to her. Likely a talent she had gained having done it many times for his father over the years.
“You know your father loved you, Travis.”
Travis nodded. “I know.”
She finished folding and patted his tie.
“There, as handsome has ever.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Oh, there is a lady friend downstairs. Jayde, I believe she said. Nice girl.”
“I’ll be down in a moment.”
Laura turned to head out.
“Mom.”
She turned back.
“I’m so sorry about Dad. I’m really sorry he’s gone.”
She looked thoughtful and then she said, “Hon, you couldn’t have prevented the wildfires. It was an unfortunate accident.”
Travis felt a sickening wave of guilt knowing that he could never tell her what really took place that night. Who’d really taken his father’s life or how Will was still alive. He no longer had a choice. It seemed as though just like his father had, he too, would have to keep secrets to protect the ones he loved.
She smiled. “Now, you don’t want to keep a lady waiting.” She disappeared out the door and down the stairs.
Travis gave one last look in the mirror and took a moment to compose himself. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. When he opened them, there she was. Just like she had been at The Black Hole and yet this time she was standing in his doorway. He had never seen her out of her regular attire. Dressed in a conservative black dress, black heels and her hair down, she looked just as beautiful as the first day he had laid eyes on her.
Travis turned to her and in an instant he was standing in front of her; papers resting on the nightstand had blown into the air as if caught by the draft of his movement. He hadn’t walked, he hadn’t run—he’d just appeared in front of her. Travis looked back at where he had been standing with a look of shock and amazement. Had he really teleported across the room? He gently pinched the skin on his arm.
“Huh.” He gulped. “Well, that was new.”
He looked back at Jayde with a smile.
She returned the same stunned expression. “How did …?”
“No idea.”
He kissed her and they held each other—they never exchanged words, as if they already knew what the other was thinking. The days ahead would no doubt raise many more questions about his newfound abilities and reveal many answers.
* * * * *
A light rain fell from the ominous dark grey clouds on that morning. Black cars lined the gravel roadway leading up to the final resting place of Scott Marshall. Travis supposed there would be a few family members and close friends turning out for the funeral at Guaje Pines Cemetery, but he had never imagined his father’s death would draw in such a crowed.
Who were these people? Did they even know him?
Funerals had a way of attracting all manner of people. Those guilty for not having spent enough time, said enough or done enough in life and those who were close family but rarely visited.
“… and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak; a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.” The reverend closed the bible. Travis’s mother had requested a reverend despite knowing his father was not religious. She felt it was best, as if words from a reverend could somehow soften the blow.
Close to the headstone etched with his father’s name, Travis stood beside his mother, dressed in a black suit and balancing an umbrella precariously over both of them. The clean, pure natural smell of the rain permeated everything and only the gentle sound of his mother’s weeping, mixed with the rain tapping against the umbrellas, could be heard among the words of condolences people gave as they paid their respects and quietly left.
Travis gazed down at the dark cherry wood casket with a full laurel wreath of purple flowers resting on top as it was lowered slowly into the evergreen-lined grave. He recalled the last time he had been here. It was for Will. And though it was a lie, it had been painful enough. Now it felt like someone had lit a fire in his throat and ripped this heart out of his chest. No one could prepare a person for this. It seemed unfair and surreal and yet surrounded by the crowd and hearing the final words the reality took hold.
He was gone.
No tears fell though, that day from Travis. Truth be told they had already fallen the night before—a night that had held no sleep, no rest or peace for him—all that remained was a numb, heart-wrenching ache in its place. Death was something he knew he would never become accustomed to; who could? Funerals were life’s way of slamming on the brakes and bringing even the arrogant to a grinding halt—they had a way of showing the frailty of life and letting everyone know that no matter how rich, poor, young or old, death showed no preference. It came and robbed without remorse or comfort. Travis could only think that if life was a lie, how much more was death?
Rick placed a gentle hand on Travis’s shoulder.
“I’m going to get your mother out of the rain. We’ll be in the car. Take as long as you need, okay?”
Travis nodded, giving a half smile.
The remaining crowds thinned out, including Mason, Ty and Jack, who turned towards the vehicle to leave with Jayde.
As he stood alone in front of the grave with his head dropped having a last moment of private grief, Jayde walked back and softly took his hand and stood beside him. He looked down at their hands entwined, but said nothing. For someone who fought hard, her hand was tender and fit into the curve of his own. A few minutes passed, and then he crouched beside the hole and took a few handfuls of the moist soil and crumbled it into the grave. He rose up and took a deep breath of the crisp morning air, and then they turned and walked away.
Opening the door, Travis paused before getting in the car; the hairs on the back of his neck went up as he felt a deep sense of being watched. He turned and looked around, gazing in the direction of a collection of thick undergrowth and trees, but there was nothing there except branches creaking in the wind.
“C’mon, hon,” Laura said from inside.
Travis gave one final survey with his eyes and then slipped into the vehicle. He closed the door and the car began to drive away.
* * * * *
The trees rustled briefly and then they were quiet. Between the trees Will stood curiously watching as the black car with Travis and his mother left the cemetery. Beside him stood Deagan Kaine, a smug grin spread across his face.
“Don’t worry, my friend, you’ll see him again. That’s for sure,” he said. “This is just the beginning.”
Will stood emotionless, as if someone had taken his soul.
They turned and walked towards a vast clearing. In an instant a giant black triangular craft appeared as if previously cloaked. They touched the side and immediately vanished. The craft lifted vertically without a sound, and within the blink of an eye it was gone.
* * * * *
Back inside the warmth of the vehicle as they moved further away, Travis looked over his shoulder at the trees behind the cemetery, scorched and blackened by the wildfires. The news reported a fallen power line but he knew the truth. The horror of what he had experienced would live with him forever; the charred trees of Los Alamos would serve as a memory to what they had been through together. The pain of losing a father was worse than any of the physical agony he had endured deep below the mesa. The journey to find him had ended with a promise. A promise to find his brother, a promise he would fulfill at all cost. And the Guardians; the Guardians walked among humanity. Called by many names, they had waged a hidden war for centuries and yet his had only begun. He knew what he had to do next. His own words echoed in his mind.
I promise, Father.
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About The Author
Jon Mills lives with his wife and two children in Ontario, Canada. He works in the advertising business helping companies sell their products and services through the written word. In his personal time, he enjoys playing piano and guitar, reading, watching movies, and traveling.
If you wish to get more information about upcoming books or you wish to get in touch with Jon, you can do so at the site below:
http://www.jonmills.com
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen