Age of Power 1: Legacy (7 page)

We went back to the hallway and continued walking. We stopped
again at the guidance counselor’s office where we saw that people were watching
a television. A big plasma screen showed a live-feed from the ISS with some
newswoman speaking about a last minute nuclear attack failing to move the
asteroid off course.

That we were even hearing about this surprised me as I had
thought all the cable news stations 
had been shut down
.
But I guess one or two had decided to go back on the air once they they’d
gotten wind of the last ditch attempt to take out Yama. Then I was startled
when a time clock popped up at the bottom of the screen. It was set at
fifty-nine minutes…and counting down.

There it was. Our doom was less than an hour away. Given where Yama
would 
impact
, we’d have a perfect view when it
slammed into the atmosphere. I had that thought just as one of the people
watching mentioned that the ISS was in orbit above us for a final record of the
impact.

Someone else whispered that one of the astronauts on the ISS had
killed himself by stepping out of an airlock. And another astronaut was
uploading all the history and knowledge he could get from NASA’s database and
the Internet to store on the space station. Volunteers around the world were
assisting with the upload. If this 
was
 going
to be our last hurrah, at least we would leave a message for some aliens to
find.

Someone in the room commented on NASA attaching booster
rockets to the ISS. When it was time, the astronauts would send it into a
higher orbit to keep it from falling to the dead Earth below. Solar panels
would keep a signal going for centuries. I sighed. That would be sheer bad
luck—not to mention ironic to the extreme—if aliens discovered Earth after we
died out.

Okay, depressed again.
 But
if the idea of leaving a message in a bottle made people feel good, 
then
 I didn’t want to spoil it for them. So gesturing
for Brand to follow, I walked away and continued down the hall. As we walked,
the announcement that they were serving lunch came over the intercom. Brand and
I just looked at each other and shrugged. We weren’t very hungry. To me, it
felt like the last meal of the condemned.

Continuing down the hallway, we turned a corner to walk the
halls of the oldest part of the Riverlite High School. Built in the 1930s, the
old school was three stories high. Though most classes 
were
held
 in the building that had been built onto this one in the
1960s; this building still housed the music and art classes on the lower floors
and storerooms on the top floor. I’d never been up to the top floor since
it 
was locked
 normally.

I told Brand I wanted to check it 
out
.
It was a last-minute thing to do before the world ended. Brand shrugged and
agreed with a simple nod. But as we headed toward the stairwell, he came to a
sudden stop behind me, the rubber on his shoes skidding on the wooden floor. I
looked back to see him staring down the hallway near a set of stairs that led
to an exit out of the building.

He muttered, “Oh hell no…”

I turned and looked, and my jaw dropped open with shock. There
was a tall guy with short blond hair and blue eyes holding a gun on two girls
kneeling in front of him. A blonde and a brunette, both girls were our age, and
they were holding each other, frightened out of their wits. I didn’t know
either of them right away, and they didn’t see us.

That was a good thing though, because it meant we could get help
before things got out of hand. I started moving to get out of the line of sight
of the guy holding the gun. He was ranting so fast at the girls that I couldn’t
understand what he was he was saying. I hoped I could get to someone before—

“What the hell are you doing, Jennings? Drop the damn gun!”
Brand yelled.

For a second I just stared at Brand—shocked by his idiocy. The
jock looked over at us, and in full 
profile
 it
clicked in my head as to who he was. I groaned. Karl Jennings was a basketball
jock who had a tattoo of a heavy black inked statement—‘B-ball is GOD’ on the
inside of his right forearm. He was arrogant on the basketball court, arrogant
in class, and now, he was an arrogant asshole with a gun.
A
gun that he was quick to turn and point right at Brand.

I yelled.
“Jennings, no!
Stop what
you’re doing! This is crazy!”

Jennings cried out.
“You!
Hagen! 
Houseman!
 Get out of here! This isn’t about you! It’s
about me, Diana, and her bitch of a girlfriend!”

I started to grab for Brand to move out of Jennings’s line of
sight and missed as said idiot friend stalked towards Jennings. He said, “Fuck off,
Jennings! Do you really think you’re going to shoot me, fucker? Then you’d
better hit me! Otherwise, I’ll kill you!”

For a moment, I stared at Brand as he took fists into a
gunfight. Oh sure, he had accepted that the end was coming—not! I now knew that
he had been afraid all this time, and it was 
all coming
 out
as rage. And, to him, all of this showed up at just the right time with the
stupid jock about to shoot these girls. Now Brand had something to take his
frustrations out 
upon
.

But Jennings obviously didn’t care. I could see that the guy was
insane. Without really aiming the gun, Jennings pulled the trigger. The hallway
had lockers on each side, inset into the walls. The lockers right next to me
banged hard with a bullet impact. Reflexively, I dropped to the floor while
Brand screamed out wordlessly and rushed the jock before he could pull the
trigger again.

As the two fought, I yelled for the girls to get out of the way.
But they 
were frozen
 in panic and they only
cried out—pulling each other closer while Brand and Jennings struggled. Brand
was trying hard to get to the gun while the jock was pushing him back with one
hand and attempting to bring the gun up to shoot him. Both were swearing up a
storm.

The gun went off again at one point and I flattened back down to
the floor. I didn’t hear the bullet pass by this time, although the crack of
the shot echoed along the hall. Lifting my head, I saw that Jennings was
becoming manic in his fight with Brand. And although Brand did have some
fighting skills, he was struggling to keep Jennings from killing him. And
Jennings was stronger. He lifted weights; Brand didn’t. It showed when the gun
rose steadily in Jennings’s hand, pointed toward my best friend’s head, even as
Brand tried to keep the arm from moving.

Then, without warning, Jennings lifted a leg and brought it down
on Brand’s left leg. Brand grunted with pain as he went down, and that was
that. Jennings pulled away with rage in his eyes. The world froze and I heard
footsteps approaching from behind me. Jennings screamed wordlessly, swinging
the gun around in all directions. He was wild now. He yelled, “You sons of a
bitches! She was my girl!”

The gun went up as Brand started to get to his feet. But the
jock wasn’t aiming at him. He was aiming at me. 
Why?
 I
don’t know, but hooray! I was the target! That was a less than happy thing!

“Hey man, this isn’t the right thing to do. Don’t!” I yelled.
Yes, I certainly could manage a deep conversation when I needed to.

Jennings pulled the trigger.

Time did the freezing bit that you hear about when you’re in
great danger. I saw everything at once. Behind me, I heard my mom yell with
fear in her voice. I saw Brand turn his head, yelling something. The girls both
stared at me with widening eyes. Behind them, at the bottom of the stairs, a
double set of doors led to a parking lot at the back of the school. The right
side door opened and a dark figure came in.

I blinked and time unfroze. Then I realized that I was still
blinking, still breathing, but not everything had unfrozen. I was staring at a
bullet that spun in midair for a moment longer, and then, dropped to the floor.
I looked at it for a moment, and then I looked up and saw who came up.

I said, “Son of a bitch—Alex?”

It’s not often that you see someone glowing with a soft but
definite blue light around him. Brand managed to mutter, “Dude…what’s with the
CGI?”

Alex sighed and just shook his head. He stood at the top of the
stairs, taking everything in. Then, slowly, he reached a hand out to the two
girls. Jennings started to swing his gun around, screaming, “Freak, keep your
hands off my girl!”

There was more gunfire. I flinched. Then I realized that last
shot hadn't come from
Jenning's
gun. I turned to look
behind me and saw Chief Sinclair in a firing stance. Then his gun sank downward
as he stared toward where he had fired. I looked back and saw Jennings staring
our way. Or, rather, he was staring at another bullet hanging in the air right
in front of his chest. Then that bullet dropped to the floor, as well.

Alex gently took the gun from the Jennings’s now limp hand.
After a moment of sheer terror on his face, the freaked out basketball player
went down onto his knees, crying with mix of shame and grief. Then, Alex looked
at me, and before I could do anything, I felt a strange feeling of nausea pass
through my body.

Alex said, “I’m glad you two weren’t hurt. And I’m sorry.”

For a few moments, we just looked at Alex Shaw with a mix of awe
and fear. I was having trouble paying attention. I was guessing the adrenaline
from all this was now petering out, because I was starting to feel hot, and
very achy. Brand suddenly looked as white as a sheet. But both of us pushed
whatever was going on to focus on Alex and what he was doing.

Behind me, I heard a woman say, “Alex, Goddess, no—what are you
doing?”

Alex looked past me, started to say something, and then stopped.
I’m not sure what it was, but I swear I could see a look of loss in his eyes.
Then, quietly, he said, “Don’t abandon each other. Live. For each other’s sake,
just live.”

Without another word, Alex turned and went down the
stairs. 
All the while putting out that strange blue
glow.
 I got to my feet. The feeling of nausea retreated, but I was
still feeling sick. Still, with Mom’s help, we followed Alex out to the back.
Almost as an afterthought, Chief Sinclair put Jennings in handcuffs and
escorted him outside. Even the girls he almost killed were looking at Alex with
awe.

Outside, we saw Alex standing at the far edge of the blacktop
area, near a maple. He was ignoring the increasing numbers of questions and
demands. No one wanted to get too close to him, though. Getting up close, I saw
him looking at the Moon. 
No, at Yama.

Then he looked back at us and smiled lopsidedly. He said, “I
guess I have to try.”

In front of me, a red-haired woman, not much older than me said,
“Alex, you can’t. Don’t! It will kill you!”

Saying nothing back, Alex looked back up at the sky. Strangely,
he looked disappointed. Then his expression showed an intense amount of concentration.
Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and his feet left the ground. When
he did that, everyone gasped.

He didn’t stop rising. As he passed the top of the school, his
glow brightened. With a flash of light that made everyone flinch, he flew up
with a vision-blurring speed. He disappeared into the sky in seconds. And, yet,
we watched. A blizzard could have been going on, and we would have kept
watching the heavens. For an unknown time, we were silent, wondering what had
just happened. And we wondered whether he was doing what we were praying he was
doing.

Then, ‘it’ happened.

The sky turned to white fire. A bright star flared, casting
sharp shadows black as ink. Then the light faded until we could see two arcs of
fading blue-white light with that bright shining star between them. Then it
faded, leaving the blue of the sky.

And my world fell to black.

CHAPTER FOUR

When I opened my eyes, my mind was a whirlwind full of images. I
found that I had to keep blinking against the feeling of grit. I wanted to rub
them clear, but I found it almost impossible to move. Finally, I did manage to
get my right arm to move, but it was only after a few tries. That act alone
took everything I had. I felt wasted. I was wasted. In fact, I felt like a
giant asteroid had hit me. My internal voice groaned with the bad joke. But I
was alive, that was the important thing.

I took in my surroundings as I let memories try to sort
themselves into something I could understand. 
Alex
glowing and flying…the sky lighting up…Mom and Dad calling out to me…Brand in
an ambulance next to me.
 Some of it made sense, but it was a
jumble, and I barely remembered bits and pieces of it. But I did remember what
Alex had done, the impossible thing that Alex had done. 
That
 I
would remember for the rest of my life.

That I was here, in a hospital room, told me that he’d
succeeded. Looking down I saw that golden cotton blankets covered my body. I
had a blue hospital gown on. Looking at the bed directly across from me, I saw
Brand. He had on the same type of gown with an IV tube going into one arm. The
bed tilted up enough that I could see his closed eyes. Looking to my left, I
saw a partly open door, which, from the visible edge of a sink I guessed to be
the bathroom. Past that in the middle of the room was a large door through
which I guessed was the way out. To Brand’s right there was another open door.
Moving my head, I saw clothes hanging there.

It was dark out. But aside from that, I wasn’t sure what time it
was. It was snowing heavily too. I could see it hitting the windows in waves,
and I could hear the wind whistling past the window. Great, we were in a
blizzard. The nice weather had ended. A slight tug on my left arm got my
attention. I had an IV attached to my arm. The fingertips of my left hand also
had sensors attached to them. I glanced up and saw the monitor units, telling
me that my body was living at least.

“Hey,” Brand said, and I looked back to him and saw that he was
watching me with exhausted-looking eyes. He said, “Finally woke up huh? I’ve
been up for a bit myself, but don’t try moving or you’ll burn out.”

“Riverlite Hospital?”
 I
asked, but stopped talking. The dryness of my throat made it too hard. I hoped
someone would come with water. Then I thought about that point. How many people
were in the place? It couldn’t be all that many, not with the town deserted as
much as it had been. Looking at the IV bag, I hoped that whoever had attached
it to me was someone who knew what they were doing, 
medical-wise
.
Given that we were here though—well, that brought up even more questions.

For that, I wanted to ask Brand to fill in the blanks. It took
me a bit to make the attempt. “How long, and what the hell hit us?”

And that was it. My throat was too dry. With a grimace, I
stopped talking. Worse was, now that I was more awake, I could feel the other
aches. Dry throat, dull pain where the needle was in my arm, and, frankly, I
felt as if I’d gone days without a shower.

Brand said, “We were both out for about two weeks.”

I kept looking at him, trying to process everything I
remembered. Nope, nothing was making sense yet. I said, “No really, how long
were we out?”

Brand snorted and said, “Serious as Yama, man. Shaw zapped us!
The doctor said it was radiation poisoning.”

“Brand, don’t…” I started to say and stopped myself, damn
throat.

Ignoring my look of worry, Brand slowly got out of bed. He
managed to get to his feet, but had to lean on the bed. I could see that he was
trying to get to the water pitcher on the stand next to his bed. This wasn’t
good. I could see that he was still too weak to be on his feet. I started to
say something to stop him. But when he heard my raspy voice, he held up a hand
to stop me talking.

I gave up. Let him collapse on the floor if that was what he
wanted. 
Yeesh.
 Another moment passed before
he straightened up, forcing himself to move forward, to pick up the pitcher.
Stubborn idiot that he was, he was only doing this to prove that he could do
it, sickness or no. And, parched as I felt, I couldn’t exactly argue about it.

Unhooking the finger connections to the wires Brand stumbled his
way to my bed leaning on the IV stand all the way. He poured water into a glass
and handed it to me. I saw that his hand was shaking. Drops spilled from the
cup. As I reached up to take it from him, I was stunned to discover how weak I
actually was. The glass began to slip from my hand before I managed to put it
down on a small tray. Brand flopped down on the end of the bed.

With his help, I got a drink though, which managed to clear my
throat. I relaxed, looking at him. He was on his back, breathing heavily with
exertion. But he was giving me a smart-ass grin at the same time. Yep, trying
to prove he could do something. I didn’t waste my breath yelling about
it. 
Typical Brand.
 I was simply glad to be
alive.

I said, “Damn, if this is how I feel, I think we could do
without Alex ever saving us again!”

Brand was about to say something when the door opened. An older
guy with graying black hair and a salt and pepper beard over his jowly jaw line
stopped at the doorway. He looked relaxed. He was whistling a cheery tune right
up until he saw Brand on my bed.

He caught his breath for a second and then yelled, “Brand Houseman,
get yourself back to bed right this second!”

Turning his head, he called out for a nurse and then quickly
pulled a chair from the outside wall and brought it to the bed for Brand to sit
down on. “Damn it, boy! We spent days trying to keep you two away from the
reaper, and this is how you repay our efforts?
Teenagers!
You all think you’re immortal! Ha!”

Given that he was wearing a white medical lab coat with a
nametag pinned to the front right pocket that said ‘Kirksten,’ I guessed that
he was our doctor. He sounded too grouchy to be a nurse. I was feeling so blown
out, I thought about filing a complaint. I chuckled at the thought and laid my
head back down. I was feeling too crappy to argue. 
Just
then, a nurse with a nametag reading ‘Wells’ came in.
 Slender,
with long auburn hair and blue eyes, she was just a bit over Brand’s height.
Kirksten gave her a quick order to help Brand to his bed.

With her help, Brand made his way back to bed. Kirksten came
around to check my pulse. I watched with half open eyes as he timed the pulse
to his watch. I found it amusing that he was ignoring the diagnostic screen
right next to him. Some people were old fashioned, I supposed. I looked past
Kirksten and noticed that Brand didn’t seem to mind the pretty nurse helping
him out. I gave a slight cough.

Brand glanced over his shoulder at me, and I caught a wicked
grin on his face. Then there was alarm on his face as he swayed and stumbled
back. Nurse Wells stopped his fall with her quick deft hands. I noted a look of
sympathy as she continued helping Brand. She even fluffed his pillows and moved
them around to help him sit up.

Settling back, Brand said, “Sorry Doc, Vaughn needed my help.
Kinda forgot that I’m not all that much better!”

Kirksten gave him a rueful chortle. He said, “I see! Well,
consider this as a good reminder!”

Once he finished checking me, he opened a storage drawer in the
nightstand next to my bed. Reaching in, he pulled out a straw. Taking it out of
its plastic wrapping, he put it in and brought it up to sip from it. I sighed
gratefully.

He smiled as he said, “So only a few hours after Brand wakes up,
and you come to as well. Good. I hope this means that you’re both going to
survive.”

I said, “Survive what, exactly? Brand said something about
radiation. Was anyone else hurt?”

Kirksten said, “No one else was hurt as far as we know. We
checked everyone at the school who 
was exposed
 to
whatever Alex Shaw was putting out. Elsewhere, well that’s something we’re
looking into. Our miraculous Mr. Shaw left us some issues to deal with.”

Across the room, Nurse Wells commented in a sour tone. “I
wouldn’t consider him all that miraculous.”

Brand and I looked at each other, and Brand said, “Um, nobody
said anything about him since I woke up. What’s going on?”

Kirksten glanced at Nurse Wells and said, “I’m sure that you
both are quite aware of the bright light that radiated from the blast in the
sky?”

I said, “Oh yes it knocked us silly. We were positively shocked
and stunned by his radiance.”

Kirksten snorted at the weak joke. “You may be joking, but
that’s actually closer to the truth than you might think, young man. The
issues we dealt with you two were primarily neural. You both were feverish, and
both your nervous systems were extremely erratic. I still don’t know what
caused it, but whatever it was that Alex Shaw did, it made people sick across
the planet.

“And some have died,” Nurse Wells commented.

Kirksten snapped his head around and glared at her. He said,
“That doesn’t need to be discussed right now, does it, nurse?”

I looked at her, then at him. But they said nothing more about
any other victims. They also hadn’t mentioned one other important thing. I
said, “Did Alex make it back? He should be able to explain what he did.”

Wells may not have liked what happened where Alex was concerned,
but she glanced over at me with a sad expression. That was more than enough of
an answer. Dr. Kirksten sighed and said with a supportive touch to my left
shoulder, “No, I’m sorry, Vaughn. He
’s presumed
 dead.
He never returned.”

Damn.

It wasn’t as though I really expected to see him walk in with a
smile. I sighed, realizing that I was kidding myself. Alex hardly ever smiled.
But it would’ve been nice to see him again. I was going to miss our talks and
his smokes. But he was dead, and yet, he had saved the world. I hoped he was at
peace.

“Are our parents here?” Brand asked. I looked at Kirksten,
waiting for an answer.

The doctor nodded and said, “Yes, and I’ll be sending them in,
but they can stay only for a few minutes, though. I don’t want either of you
any more exhausted than you already are, though. Is that clear?”

I nodded, and, with his help, I took another sip of the
water—the blessed tap water of life! He moved the tray closer and then he went
to take more pillows from the closet. He handed a couple of pillows to Nurse
Wells, she propped me up in bed. Once that 
was done
,
I found I could reach the straw on my own. I still felt weak as a proverbial
kitten. Gods, I wished I didn’t feel so damn worn out.

“We are going to recover, right? This,” I said, gesturing to
myself, “is curable?”

Dr. Kirksten heard the worry in my voice and said, “Vaughn, you
are recovering. Don’t be afraid. We got you through this, and we’ll get you on
your feet and doing better than ever!”

I smiled and gave a weak nod. “Oh good, I’ll be able to play the
piano.”

Brand commented, “You’ve never played the piano in your life.”

I gave him a mock glare and said, “I trust the doctor. He said
I’d be better than ever! That includes doing stuff I’d never done before.”

Brand groaned, and the two adults laughed. Kirksten reached over
and mussed my hair as he said, “Old joke, but cute try, nonetheless.”

He then turned to the nurse and said, “Keep an eye on them,
please? And don’t let the young Mr. Houseman out of his bed!”

The nurse gave Brand a mock glare and nodded once. He gave her a
look of mock contrition. I grinned at him and shook my head. Even as weak
as he was, he was still pushing it. But, before long, our parents were in the
room, and we hugged, we smiled, my mom cried, and Brand’s dad had something in
his eye. Slowly, though, we calmed down enough to try to catch up on what
happened. That didn’t go well, as everyone in the room tried talking at the
same time.

Finally, with a sigh of impatience, Dr. Kirksten yelled, “I’ll
tell everyone what is going on! And you four will head home to sleep! Not one
of you has had much of that after these two got here! So be quiet!”

I grinned for a second as the parents’ went collectively silent,
staring at the man. Dr. Kirksten wasn’t very tall. I think he was a hair under
five feet six inches. But short or no, he definitely had a voice!

As silence filled the room, he grinned, impishly and said, “I
love a good audience.”

Then, regaining some aplomb, he said, “Ladies and gentlemen,
your boys will be fine. If—and I stress 
if
—they get complete rest!
It took some time, but I’m certain they’ll recover.”

Brand asked, “Recovered from what, exactly? What hit us?”

Kirksten winced. “Honestly, I don’t know. As far, as can be
guessed at, Alex Shaw generated some form of radiation. But since no one was
around to take record what type it was, I had to take guesses in how to treat
your condition. Whatever it was, it caused you to go into an increased
metabolic state, especially where your nervous systems were concerned. In
essence, you both overloaded and became comatose.”