Renegade Rupture (20 page)

Read Renegade Rupture Online

Authors: J. C. Fiske

Tags: #Young Adult, #harry potter, #Fantasy, #percy jackson, #epic fantasy, #anime, #super heroes

BOOK: Renegade Rupture
3.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Niffin threw her arms around him and cried into his shoulder. Gisbo, not knowing what to do, wrapped his arms around her as she cried. When she had her fill, she pulled herself away, looked him right in the eyes, and smiled.

"I don't know why I'm crying, I don't, but I'm not ashamed either. It's you, Gisbo. You're really him! The Man-Phoenix!" Niffin said.

"Not yet, apparently," Gisbo said, looking up into the sky.

"I won't tell anyone. I promise. Not even Kennis," Niffin said. "But, tell me, do you even understand what this means?"

"I've tried not to think too much on it," Gisbo said.

"It means you're going to save us all, just like Vadid did. It means when things are the darkest, you'll bring the light, and it means that no matter what, I will always be your friend," Niffin said. "Along with Kimjow."

"I don't know . . . I don't know what to say. I don't know about all of that. But, Niffin, you saved Fao for me. You risked your life for me, and no matter what, I'll always be your friend too, and Kimjow's," Gisbo said as he embraced her and felt himself smiling. Then he frowned and pulled away.

"What's wrong?" Niffin asked.

"Just what that thing in there said, that the Drakeness I have in me, it was all pre-determined. It was planned. I feel, I feel as if something is coming, something . . . bad. I know about these plans of theirs. They're patient, calculating, and I think that Jamaki, he went against his higher ups and jumped the starting whistle. You may feel hope, but I don't feel that way at all, Niffin." Gisbo said.

"Whatever happens, we'll get through it, like the family of Renegades we are," Niffin said.

"I better go, Niffin, but I already feel this special power of yours flowing through me. By healing Fao, I feel you let her reach a potential I couldn't do myself. If you don't mind, I'm going to send my friends over to you. Do you mind? We need to win, and frankly, with you on our side, the Strifes won't stand a chance!" Gisbo said. Niffin blushed.

"I, ok, but one at a time maybe," Niffin said.

"Niffin," Gisbo said.

"Yeah?" Niffin asked.

"Thanks," Gisbo said as it was his turn now to wrap her up in a hug.

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen:
The Lost Day

The tryouts for the Boon Battle went much longer than the sumo matches’ as many more Renegades were interested in representing their home and showcasing their abilities. Rather than a mock tournament, they went before the judges, Honj, Perry, Narroway, and Shax, and showed off their skills. After meticulous deliberating in a Mind-Link, the best minds that Heaven’s Shelter had to offer posted their list of names in no specific order.

Moordin Grandir with his great hawk, Norse. Niffin Roarie with her mutt, Kimjow. Whip Miles with his fruit bat, Stewie. Dave Greene, Shaved’s dad, with his fearsome bear, Slumby.

“Even with that training, no dice. Sorry, girl,” Gisbo said, bending down to be on face level with Fao. He rubbed her chest and head at the same time. “We’ll get ‘em next time for sure!”

“I’d rather see your wolf in there than my bat. As much as I love Stewie, she’s flimsy, easily damaged. I . . . I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her. She’s a part of me,” Whip said, scratching the sleeping bat hanging by his shoulders under his cape.

“You were chosen for a reason, man. I have no doubt about that. What surprises me is I didn’t even know that Dave had a Boon! A bear at that! Where does he keep him, Shaved?” Gisbo asked.

“Slumby? Well, he sleeps . . . a lot, and he eats . . . a lot. Bears hibernate, but Slumby, he’s not the average bear. It’s as if that giant thing lives to sleep, as if dreaming is better than living. He only wakes up to eat. That thing once snuck out and cleared the entire feast for the new Renegade recruits one year. There was no cookout and Narroway was pissed!” Shaved said. Dave, overhearing this, made his way to them.

“Hey, hey, hey, Slumby’s only hungry for one thing now, and that’s givin’ a good lickin’ to some Strifes. He’s . . .” Dave started, but he turned around. “Oh, damn that bear, where’d he go?”

“Um, Dave! DAVE!” Ernie suddenly called, waving his hands above the crowd and pointed. They all saw an enormously overweight bear climbing a tree way too thin, even for the likes of Grandfield. The higher the bear climbed, the more the tree bent until the tip of it touched the ground, along with the bear’s goal: a huge beehive, dripping with honey and swarming with angry worker bees.

“Aw, he’s just hungry!” Dave said, cooing as the bear finally pinned the beehive to the ground and began to crack the hive open like a giant walnut. He lapped up the sweet nectar inside, ignoring the stings. Slumby realized that this was not an ideal, comfortable position for eating such a wonderful treat, so he rolled forward, like a barrel, and propped the beehive on his chest and ate it like an otter.

Unfortunately, the tree snapped back, ripping the beehive free from the surprised bear’s claws and firing it straight up into the air. Moments later, the big beehive slammed down into the center of the crowd and exploded in sticky, stingy goo, leaving the bravest warriors Thera had to offer running for their lives from tiny honey bees. The bravest soul of the day crawled forward, laid upon the ground, and ate up his prize with delight. Upon looking left and right, realizing everyone had fled, Dave ventured forward and sat next to his bear, raising a hand that his bear high-fived.

“That’ll do, Slumby, that’ll do. Funny thing about bees. If you just stay still, leave ‘em be, they don’t sting ya! Ok, pal, time to share some of that free honey,” Dave said.

That night, upon Gisbo’s request, much to Kennis’ surprise, they hung out at her place to spend time with Niffin and Kimjow, talking the night away and playing games. Kennis marveled at Gisbo and Niffin’s quick friendship, but also wondered what exactly had happened between the two of them.

“I really can’t thank you enough for helping me and Fao here, Niffin. We didn’t make it, but her power and our friendship have doubled. I’m so thankful for your help, and just know that Kennis and I will be in the front row cheering you and Kimjow on!” Gisbo said. Niffin blushed.

“Ugh, there’s just so much pressure! I’m not used to all of this, but Kimjow here helps me,” Niffin said, hugging her giant, drooling dog with a smile. “Perry said we are spending tomorrow improving everyone’s Boon’s power, and Kimjow’s and my abilities are going to be the focus. I’m so happy to help, but at the same time, it’s stressing me out to no end. I better get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day,”

“No problem, none at all, and thank you, thank you so much,” Gisbo said as he gave Niffin a big hug, causing her to blush a fierce red. Kennis smiled and hugged and kissed Gisbo goodbye as well.

Gisbo took his time making it back to his tree house, enjoying the cool night air, along with a blanket of calming stars above him. A natural smile of contentment crept upon his face. He was at peace and his normally chaotic mind was filled only with the beauty of Heaven’s Shelter.

Crickets chirped and fireflies sparkled and soared all around him, and somewhere, a loon cooed it’s lonely song on a pond. He stopped a moment to take one last look at Kennis and Niffin’s tree house to see Kennis in the window, leaning on her elbows, watching him with a smile. She blew him a kiss, and Gisbo settled for a wave and continued his walk through the woods toward his tree house.

He passed a pond, a pond that just two years earlier, during winter, he and his dad and all his friends spent the week playing hockey. Then, just as when he entered the Life End, a repressed memory shot to the front of his mind. He was transported away to a memory, not of his mother, but of his father . . .

“So, that’s your boy, eh?” Ernie asked. Falcon looked up from his steaming cup of coffee.

“That’s him, all right,” Falcon said with a proud smile as the last boy to tie on his ice skeets took to the pond, hockey stick in hand, and joined the other boys and girls skating about in a circle, warming up.

“He’s no natural; his knees are wobbling,” Ernie said.

“Can it, Ernie,” Falcon said. “He’s doing fine.”

“If you say so. He looks like a baby deer on that ice compared to everyone else. He’s gonna get slaughtered out there,” Ernie said.

“It’s good for him,” Falcon said.

“This isn’t Heaven’s Shelter, pal. This is Snaeflur. They eat and breathe hockey out here. He still cooped up in his room all the time? Readin’? Not good for a boy his age,” Ernie asked.

“Ernie . . .” Falcon said, warning to his tone.

“What? All I’m saying is that a future Renegade has no business sticking his nose in fantasy books and drawing silly pictures. The boy’s got to get out and learn to kick some ass! Not read about it,” Ernie said.

“Are you his father?” Falcon asked.

“You know I’m only messing with ya, come on, lighten up! Perry sticks his nose in the books and IAM knows I’d want nothing to do with him in a throw down,” Ernie said, suddenly pausing. “And don’t you ever tell him I said that neither!”

“Noted,” Falcon said.

“Damn, look at Narroway’s kid. Ranto, right? The big guy flies across the ice. He’s a natural. Much like you back in the day. You were the best player I ever coached, and that’s saying something,” Ernie said.

“We played against the same team every week, Ernie. It’s just a game,” Falcon said. Ernie looked at him bewildered.

“Hockey? Just a game? Are you out of your damned skull? That wife o’ yours is makin’ you soft, boy! Hockey, it should be the start of every young boy’s life! It’s not just a sport; it’s a life lesson. When you step out on that ice, you’re prepping for battle on unstable ground, AKA life! Your pads are your armor, your stick is your weapon, and that puck is life itself. Some people chase it, some people go where the others are going, but the smart ones, the Renegades, they don’t go where it is; they go where it’s gonna be. You learn to adapt to your environment, rely on others when you need to, and when to take the shot. Just a game . . . damn you, Falcon,” Ernie said as he tossed back a beer.

“Ain’t it a little early for that?” Falcon asked.

“Do I tell you how to live your life?” Ernie fired back.

“Yes,” Falcon said.

“Oh, well . . . screw it,” Ernie said as he popped open another beer. “Seems your little guy has some friends.”

“Mm,” Falcon said, watching as a group of three older, bigger boys skated in stride with Gisbo. They were talking with him, but even from afar, Falcon saw the snickers and glints in their eyes. Gisbo just smiled back, ignorant of their cruel intentions.

“Yer kid’s about to get popped,” Ernie said.

Sure enough, the lead boy, in one swift hip check, hit Gisbo off balance into his bigger friend, who then bounced him over to their other friend who waited with a cross check that hit Gisbo so hard, his feet flew over his head. Ernie roared with laughter, smacking his knee.

“Up and away!” Ernie said. “Welcome to hockey, Gisbo, and welcome to a little thing called strength in numbers!”

Both men watched Gisbo spin out and glide across the ice into a snow bank. After sitting up, tears swimming in his eyes, face red with embarrassment, Gisbo pulled himself back up onto his skeets and skated over to the entryway of the stands, clearly done for the day.

“Well, old friend, not everyone’s cut out for hockey. Just take him home and get him patched up. He can try again next year,” Ernie said.

“Hmph,” Falcon mumbled, rising to his feet and walking down the stands, one bleacher at a time, until he came face to face with his son.

Gisbo, his eyes red from tears, shook from head to toe from the shock and hid from his father’s gaze. Falcon looked down at his son.

“Look at me,” Falcon said.

Gisbo continued looking down, then slowly looked up at his dad.

“Why are you crying?” Falcon asked plainly.

“Because . . . because they hit me,” Gisbo said through sniffles.

“Knock it off,” Falcon said in a powerful voice. Gisbo quit his sobbing. Falcon leaned down and put both hands on his son’s shoulders and looked him square in the eyes.

“I want you to look at me, son, and listen to what I’m about to say. Nobody, and I mean nobody, has the right to hit you. It is better to know now, when you are young, that you can defend yourself when your life is on the line, and even more importantly, defend those you love. It is always better to have something and not need it, than need it and not have it. Understand?” Falcon asked.

Gisbo nodded.

“Now, next time they try that, anybody for that matter, this is what I want you to do. I want you to chase them down and hit them back as hard as you can, square in the nose. Do you understand me? There will be time to turn the other cheek, but you can’t turn a cheek you don’t have,” Falcon asked. At that moment, Gisbo felt a little funny. His heart skipped as he felt a rush of excitement come over him. He felt like a hero from his books and his father had given permission to slay a dragon. He smiled, causing his dad to smile, too.

“Yeah, Dad,” Gisbo said.

“Atta boy. You are my son and I’m going to raise you to be a man, not a fairy ass. Now go, and whatever you do, don’t tell your mother,” Falcon said with a wink and a smile. He gave Gisbo a friendly knock on the side of the helmet. Gisbo beamed and immediately skated back out onto the ice.

Other books

A Heart for Robbie by J.P. Barnaby
A Thorn Among the Lilies by Michael Hiebert
A Reason to Believe by Governor Deval Patrick
The Half Brother: A Novel by Christensen, Lars Saabye
Impulsive by Jeana E. Mann
Meeting at Infinity by John Brunner
The Proposal Plan by Charlotte Phillips
Humpty's Bones by Clark, Simon