Original Souls (A World Apart #1) (2 page)

This narrow hallway we're passing along stretches for miles it seems. It's so dark ahead of us that I can't tell if it ever ends. The floors are covered with grimy dust, and the walls have a syrupy oil slicked a crossed them in some ritual-like fashion. The oils are shaped in figures that sort of look like portraits of animals. Mythical animals of spliced species, dragons and such, while-some of the other images take the form of a myriad of natur
e’
s inhabitants. But they aren't exactly the greatest artist caliber of work, so they are
n’
t so easy to make out. Everything here looks as if it's been tinted by a gray and blue filter. It's a drab place to be tonight.

There's a missing kid. A young boy about eleven years ol
d—
I -think? Maybe the report said a twelve-year-old? No matter, either way we have to get this boy out of here alive. The report said that h
e’
s been missing for a while now. Luckily, a credible tip recently came into the receptors down at Squadron, our policing station. That's why I'm here now with my squad to check things out. I'm truly surprised that I was dispatched to this case so abruptly, considering my dreadfully ironic history.

This unit use to solely deal with missing person cases, but we were reassigned after ... well, I just couldn't do it anymore. It helped that I'm the unit leader though. My men didn't want a new guy bossing them around, so they all came along with me when I was reassigned by the Chancellor of the 8ights Council here in Draconia.

‘
8ights
,
’ is what most call them. The
y’
re elected in each individual World to guide and govern that World, and its relationship with the other seven. I've known the Chancellor of Draconia, Sebastian, all my life. He and my father were childhood friends. He gave the eulogy at my da
d’
s funeral. He's like family. That's why he approved my entire unit following me to my new assignment in the less specific field of, city patrols, even though w
e’
re all trained specialist. I appreciated that. It would have been difficult getting to know new Squadron members while I was going through so much at the time.

At this point we've already progressed far down the hall, well into the darkness that's keeping us from telling how long this path really is. "Put your flashlights on guys, we don't want any surprises," -I hollered back behind me. We probably should have done that already, but I ca
n’
t help but be distracted by the crappy scenery. Looking up at the tall ceilings,I ca
n’
t imagine what kind of people would be staying in a place like this. Though with those wall markings, someon
e’
s got to be hiding out somewhere in here. Probably a couple of stray bums drinking runoff sewer-water, turning themselves into the rats they cook and eat for dinner. Harsh, but likely true during these darkening days.

From the lens on top of our Absorption Guns, flashlight after flashlight flicked on. They gave a better view to the unwelcome sight of a dead cat carcass on the gray cement ground. A black cat at that, tucked up against the wall as we passed by. Bad omens do
n’
t mean much to me, but I know some people who let that stuff dictate their entire lives to them. Dreams, psychics, coincidences, dingy-smelly-rotting-dead cat carcasses. Must be fate trying to tell me something? Or perhaps, -i
t’
s just a dead cat? Either way, peopl
e’
s superstitions never seem to prepare them for the worst-case scenario, so why bother?

These well-equipped, double-handed guns afforded us a new sense of dread, as we can now see just how pitiful this place really is. Fitting, since their purpose is to absorb rouge magik wielders' sad and defiant little spells. I'm hoping we won't have to use them at all. No activity recorded yet, besides that cat, though it wasn't too active. But that doesn't mean there isn't anything going on. Still, the report read that the guns would be required since this abandoned factory is believed to be inhabited by the Gente Peligroso. Traveling rouge magik wielders from all eight Worlds. They refuse to give up their power, and considering they live on the streets and places like this closed down factory, they refuse all constructive fashion tips as well. Well, only those rogue-bums traveling through Draconia would have to stop using magik for a time. And possibly dress in clothes that do
n’
t smell like hot garbage.

Magik is still valued almost everywhere else. And I can't say I disagree with these rogues for not following the rules. Who could live without something the
y’
ve known and loved all their life? The only problem is that they use their power to destroy things in every World. It's only a matter of time before Worlds other than Draconia start banning magik wielding by civilians. We're going to need these guns if we run into any of those Peligrosos. We've been instructed to bring them in alive, if possible, for questioning. We ca
n’
t simply use our superior wielding abilities to take them out. Most of the Gente Peligroso are young and untrained teens. They generally recruit runaways and social outcast. Those types you see in school at the back of the classroom playing with an army knife. Eyes on fire, just daring you to give them an excuse to use it. Most wh
o’
ve never been properly taught to wield magik or cast any long term spells. Their leaders are all most likely powerful wielders, but they simply don't have the man power to teach most of the new and younger recruits. The 8ights have hunted them to near extinction, but the
y’
re still around. Growing even. That does
n’
t make much sense, but they do
n’
t pay me enough to ask questions like that. Or rather, they could
n’
t pay me enough.

The tunnel started to open up, we stumbled upon an intersection. There's a leak, better, a stream of water falling from the tall grated ceiling. The water hit the ground at the center of the intersection, splashing vigorously against our black, Valid steel-toed boots. Valid is the strongest steel there is, just really a symbol of the 8ights power and prestige. The men behind me started spreading out, while attempting to avoid getting wet. The liquid bounced all around the sides of the walls, resembling rain droplets as it beaded on the cement. Our black jumpsuit uniforms started to shine a bit as we fully penetrated the pentagon shaped intersection.

My earpiece communicator meant nothing cooped up in this dead factory. The walls must be too thick. I can't get any signal. I took it off, and threw it down into the small puddles of water all around our feet. A little electric shock went out as the water reacted with the mechanics inside it. It bothered the left side of my neck around my hairline too. I figured it would be in my best interest to get rid of it. However, I could have just put it in one of my many pockets. These jumpsuits are like the overalls version of cargo pants. I hate cargos, thus I hate these constricting uniforms.

My dark hair isn't even very long, especially where my ears are. I have a virtual crew cut with a bit more length and style. I'm sure most of the guys behind me are feeling the same annoyance from their earpieces. But it'd be better if they simply stored theirs in these busy jumpsuits. Communicators are
n’
t cheap. Lucky me again that I'm in charge here. Most of them have longer hair than I. Especially,Evan. He has longer hair than most guys in Draconia. He's a special case, but i
t’
s considered downright disgusting for a guy-to sport long locks in our home World. Ther
e’
s no place like home, some say. That is, if your hom
e’
s a prison, because tha
t’
s exactly what Draconia feels like from the inside.

"Why couldn't we see this light from back there?" Evan said abruptly. My second in command just brought up a really good point. One I ca
n’
t exactly answer.

His jet-black hair gleamed from this very suspect light swinging above our heads. He wasn't perfect as far as being a unit commander. More because of his looks than his actual ability to lead. He's a lot younger than most Squadron commanders. Twenty-nine isn't so young, but unfortunately for Evan, he looks like a college kid. His blue eyes being the signature of the Draconian race, paired with that so pretty haircut, his naturally tan ski
n—
that's not too much lighter than my ow
n—
and that all makes him a viable bachelor, for sure. This all might go over well with the girls, but in Squadron it makes him seem like a snot-noise kid. His a slender face, looking like a weasel's, but
I’
m sure he's an honest guy. Haircut, slightly shorter in the back, with a couple of long strands swung over the side of his left eye. I guess it's some kind of fashion statement, but he actual resembles some of the teen runaways that fall into the Gente Peligroso. Without his eye color shining through those loosely, yet meticulously placed strands of hair, he could be mistaken for one of them ... again.

It seems that he's transitioned out well enough. Evan was born to two Draconian teen runaways. They fled the repressive Draconia for the Peligrosos. Just like most gangs, these Peligrosos have an insignia. Have to turn your eyes blood-red to fit in with the misfits. Their signature mark to separate them from the eigh
t“
norma
l
” races. A tattoo on the face would be less jarring than seeing a hippie looking dude walking down the street with completely red irises. But when Evan was just seven years old, he ran away from the runaways. We met a year before then, but I'm five years his senior, so he pretty much looked up to me when we were kids. That's why I knew I could convince him of leaving that nomadic, dangerous lifestyle. From then on, we grew up together. He lived with my parents and me. He's the little brother I never wanted, but somehow ended up with.

I’
ve known him forever. And happy to say so, that he's good for the job.
“
Perceptive
,
” would be the best word to describe him. He's brought up a good point about this light, but I still don't have the slightest idea to how it got there. I figured I've waited long enough to respond, while he blankly stares at me, so I gave him a crude, unedited answer. "Well, maybe the light wasn't on before we got this close," I realized how ridiculous I sounded as the last word left my lips.

"Well, then we would have seen it come on, right?" Evan countered.

"Yeah, good-d point," I said with a slight stutter, while the other men looked around for clues of which direction we should head in first.

"So, don't you think that's a bit odd," his curious tone pissing me off a little more than it probably should have.

My mind was elsewhere, and he kept dragging me back to reality. Not where I want to be right now. Thinking of myself as a kid again and my family reminded me of someone I long tried forgetting about. To no avail, of course. That would be too easy. "Well, of course I do," I declared with authority, "but what more can be done about it. We couldn't see it there before and now we can. Whatever the reason, we can't waste time guessing to. We have a mission, so le
t’
s stay focused and complete it."

"Yes, sir." Evan nodded to acknowledge my concerns for this kid we desperately need to find. Then he cautiously asked, "so wha
t’
s the plan, Criston?"

"I'm not entirely sure," I admitted, "when we first walked up I was more shocked to see that there is running water as oppose to that light.

"Should there not be?" he asked while peering down one of the paths ahead.

"No, not at all. The water has been shut off for years. The 8ights made sure of that when the reports of the Peligrosos hiding out here started pouring in. For that matter, the electricity is off as well. Where could they be getting either one of those utilities? I doubt that anyone could wield a spell for this long without overdosing themselves. I would
n’
t suspect that there's magik at work here."

"Well, maybe they have backup generators, stolen ones even. They steal all the time, we have thousands of surveillance videos and reports on that," Evan offered.

"So that could possibly explain the electricity, but not the water," I said while pondering my options. "The water system is controlled by the city. That can't be accessed without getting into the water department's mainframe," I told him, and then paused in thought for a good long moment. "But, if we head up these paths I'm pretty sure we'll find out more." I then shouted out to the whole team. "Let's split up, men! It'll help us find the boy faster if we track each of these paths at once! We meet back here in fifteen! Set your watches, and move out with your teams!" I said it quickly, because being in this building a second longer, is much too long. It's got a psycho feeling to it.