Rex Aftermath (Elei's Chronicles)

BOOK: Rex Aftermath (Elei's Chronicles)
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Rex Aftermath

Full Circle

 

There is war on the Seven Islands. Elei and his friends have unlocked the weapons held underground, but the Gultur regime is not so easily put down. Mantis and his ragtag army of kids need all the help they can get. Elei, Kalaes and Alendra return to Artemisia to create a diversion, while Hera, Sacmis and Mantis attack Dakru City, in a final attempt to bring peace. But with a net of betrayal closing around them and Rex set against Regina in a final confrontation, the price might prove too heavy.

 

 

Rex Equilibrium © Copyright 2012 by Chrystalla Thoma

 

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

 

Go here for the
Table of Contents

Cover design by Chrystalla Thoma.

Photo: Michael Whyte, used with permission.

Model: Jack Martinelli

http://chrystallathoma.wordpress.com

 

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“The real hero is always a hero by mistake; he dreams of being an honest coward like everybody else.

If it had been possible he would have settled the matter otherwise, and without bloodshed. He doesn't boast of his own death or of others’.

But he does not repent.”

 

Umberto Eco

 

 

To peace

 

Not a dedication: a wish.

 

 

 

Acknowledgments

 

Huge thanks to Claire Bugler Hewitt and Arlene Webb for their help and enthusiasm. Also a big thank you also goes to my group ‘Writers Cubed’ for their constant support.

Many thanks also to my readers for inquiring after my heroes’ wellbeing and for demanding they have a happy ending.  

 

Chapter One

 

 

Cold wind whipped empty cartons through the alley and made tins roll and clink. Elei shivered in his jacket, hands shoved in his pockets, his Rasmus a comforting weight at his hip. The ancient semi-automatic, a present from Pelia, was the only thing left from his past.

Then again...
He lifted a hand to his throat, to the necklace of black dots, mark of Rex, his dominant parasite.
Yeah.
The gun hadn’t been Pelia’s only gift, and the snakeskin on his cheek was yet another reminder of his past. A memento of the constant battle raging inside him between Rex and telmion, the two parasites too busy fighting each other to kill him — on most days, at least.

Across from Elei, Kalaes leaned against a grimy wall covered in peeling posters, his arms folded across his chest, eyes half-closed. The fine white lines of
palantin
marked the side of his neck, stopping at the black dots of Rex, and his dark hair stood in defiant spikes, barely ruffled by the wind. He would’ve seemed relaxed to anyone who didn’t know him.

“Anything yet?” Alendra hunkered down by Kalaes’ feet, checking her gun, hair catching the afternoon light in a bright halo.

“Nothing this way,” Kalaes muttered.

Elei peered around the corner into the other street and shook his head. They were relying on Mantis’ contacts to meet the most important street gang leaders of Artemisia, or at least those willing.

“Are you sure they’re coming?” Alendra clicked the safety of her gun on and lifted her cat-like eyes.

Kalaes huffed and closed his eyes as if about to take a nap as he stood there. “If not, I’ll spank them. In fact I’ll let
you
do it, if you beg nicely.”

Alendra snorted.

Elei poked his head out into the street once more, checking, but it was empty. He retreated into the alley.

“And what happens if they don’t want to join us?” Alendra whispered, voicing Elei’s fears. She stood and holstered her gun, her movements jerky.

What if the street kids didn’t help them create a distraction so Mantis and his ragtag army, together with Hera and Sacmis, could take hold of the war machine they’d found underground in the north of Dakru and set up the real attack?

“They will,” Kalaes said, his dark eyes opening, scanning the street on his side, his expression betraying no impatience, fear or anger. “Relax.”

Footsteps sounded and Rex thrummed at the back of Elei’s possessed eye.
Low level danger alert.
Elei drew his Rasmus and listened. “Three approaching.”

They pulled their hoods forward, hiding their faces. Kalaes pushed off the wall, unslinging his semi-automatic shotgun from his back and propping it on the ground as if it were a walking stick. He leaned on it, lips lifting in a sharp grin, but it didn’t fool Elei.

Kalaes was nervous as all the hells.

Elei cocked his Rasmus and heard Alendra do the same. The fact Mantis said he knew these people, these kids, didn’t mean they meant them no harm.

A boy rounded the corner, flanked by two girls. They held guns, their grip loose, their gazes sharp. Their clothes were ratty and patched in places, gray with dust and dirt.

They halted and exchanged looks between them.

“Which one of you is Kalaes?” asked the boy, gesturing for the girls to stay back. He seemed to be about Elei’s age, his light brown hair hanging in greasy strings around his thin face. Green eyes assessed Elei, then Alendra, coming to rest on Kalaes. “You.”

Kalaes nodded. “Greetings from Mantis.” Sunlight reflecting off a high window caught his young face, the three parallel lines tattooed on his cheek, his mismatched eyes; one dark and true, the other bright blue, possessed by Rex.

“I’m Mitt.” The boy hooked a finger at his companions, then displayed the back of his hand, lifting it for all to see. The tattoo of a bird was traced in bold black lines. “We’re the Hawk Gang. And yours?”

“We’re not a gang,” Kalaes said stonily.

“Of course you are.” Mitt frowned. “You have the tat. Why else would you be meeting with us?”

“He disbanded his gang many years ago,” a male voice said from behind Kalaes.

Elei stiffened and turned, raising his gun; dammit, they’d been distracted and not kept watch over the other side of the alley. “Who’re you?”

 The newcomer, a boy with long, blond hair and striking blue eyes, ignored Elei, gaze fixed on Kalaes’s back. He’d come alone and the butts of two guns jutted over his hips.

Kalaes turned slowly, the blood draining from his face. “Dain?”

“Okay, who in the five hells is Dain?” Alendra said, her gun raised.

“Leader of the Triple Gang,” Dain said, smirking, and tapped the tattoo on his cheek.

Which was the same as Kalaes’ — three parallel black lines across his cheek.

“You took over the gang,” Kalaes said, his lips thinning.

Dain shrugged, the smirk never slipping. “You gave up on us. I didn’t.”

“I got you jobs, and a place to stay. You were old enough to be on your own.” Kalaes’ hand tightened on the grip of his propped-up machine gun. “You were doing fine last I checked.”

“Last you checked was years ago, fe.” Dain’s eyes glittered with anger. “You dropped off the face of the earth and assumed everything was as you left it.”

“I wasn’t living in pissing Artemisia anymore. I asked Maera to check on you. Dammit.” Kalaes rubbed a hand over his face. “She said you were doing fine.”

“Haven’t seen Maera in ages,” Dain spat. “You’re just lying to save your hide.”

Kalaes wouldn’t do that. “Is this what you came here for, to blame Kal?” Elei muttered.

“He abandoned us,” Dain said.

Elei itched to ask what had happened back then. When he’d first met Kalaes, Kalaes had said in no uncertain terms that he didn’t take strays in anymore.
Why?

“You’re almost as old as he is,” Alendra snapped at Dain. “Do you still need him to hold your hand?”

Dain turned his cool gaze on her. “Stay out of this.”

It made Elei’s finger twitch on the trigger.

“What’s going on?” Mitt asked. His two companions had approached warily, hands on the knives hanging at their belts.

“Everything’s fine,” Kalaes said and picked up his machine gun. He slung it over his shoulder, managing to look both nonchalant and dangerous. “We’re just waiting for one more gang leader.”

“Her, by any chance?” Alendra asked, pointing behind Kalaes.

Oh great, distracted again.
Cursing softly, Elei swung his gun around and blinked.

The newcomer was... colorful. Pretty in a spunky sort of way. Her black hair was plaited in tiny braids that bounced when she moved, and tattoos curled around her neck, dark lines swirling up from her neckline into her mass of hair. Her skin was the color of burnt sugar. A thin boy followed her, his expression shy.

“Hiya, pooskers. Ya called?” She grinned, her dark eyes lighting up. “I’m Zoe, and this is Ifran. Where’s the party?”

 

***

 


Pooskers
?” Kalaes muttered as Zoe led the way to what she promised was a safe place to talk. Their little group shuffled along uneasily, glances shooting back and forth, hands resting on the grips of holstered guns.


Bloomers
.
Fredos
.” Zoe shot Kalaes an amused look over her leather-clad shoulder. “Friends.”

“You’re not from around here,” Dain said accusingly. “You’re from another island.”

Zoe shrugged. “Is there a law against it?”

Kalaes held a hand up and they slowed. An avenue opened up ahead, and Elei caught a glimpse of uniforms and glinting visors. A patrol. The city of Artemisia had a strong Gultur police presence, because of its importance as a port and because it was so close to the Gultur capital.

They split, spreading behind dumpsters and under the awnings of shuttered shops, waiting to see if the patrol would turn into the side street. Alendra crouched next to Elei behind a low wall and heat flared where their bodies touched. She smelled fresh, like rainwater. She smiled at him and, for a breathtaking moment, he thought she might kiss him.

But she turned her attention back to the street.

The kiss they’d shared back at the town of Istros burned in his memory. He hoped she hadn’t regretted it; hoped she’d want to kiss him again, although he had to wonder why she’d ever want to, and anyway the war was about to start in earnest.

War. Five hells.
It just didn’t seem real.

Mitt and his two girls waved from behind a fire escape farther down the street, signaling the patrol was gone. They crept out of hiding. Dain glared at Kalaes, Zoe shook out her braids and grabbed her younger companion’s hand, and they exited into the busy avenue. She led them across, weaving between streetcars rolling on huge wheels and old, faded aircars into another street and another alley, to the back of an abandoned garage and into a rickety building with broken windows and a black hole where an elevator used to be.

She whistled, and someone whistled back from a side-alley. “All clear,” she said.

“This is Hound Gang turf,” hissed Mitt, his eyes huge.

“Of course it is,” Dain said. “That’s her gang.”

Now he said it, Elei noticed the animal tat on the back of Zoe’s hand. She opened a door inside the trashed lobby and gestured expansively.

“Welcome to our magnificent abode,
pooskers
.” She grinned from ear to ear. “You’ll be safe from harm and rodents as long as you don’t carry any food in your pockets.”

Kalaes snorted softly, pulled back his hood, gave a mocking bow and strode past Elei to enter first.
Shit
.

“Kal, wait.” Elei hurried after him, Rex pounding like a drum inside his skull.
Danger. Fear.
They didn’t know this girl. What if someone lurked inside, waiting to kill them?

Elei took a few steps and stopped. Gripping the handle of his gun, he examined the cramped space he’d just entered: a long hall where kids of all ages huddled on gray rugs and watched with frightened eyes. There had to be at least thirty of them, thin and shaking.

Kalaes was already checking the other rooms, and Elei went after him.

“I said it’s safe here,” Zoe said from behind, startling him. “Stop scaring my kiddos.”

Elei shook his head, grimacing, not knowing what to think of her yet. The others were settling in the main hall, kneeling in a circle on the dirty rugs. The kids had scooted to one side, observing them openly.

Faint light dribbled through broken windows covered in cloth and paper, illuminating Alendra’s golden hair. She sat cross-legged next to one of Mitt’s unnamed girls. Zoe was patting a small girl on the back, whispering something in her ear. Could they trust Zoe?

Could they trust anyone? Could these half-starved, sick kids help them attack Dakru City? This plan was mad.

If only there was any other way.

Elei sat down next to Kalaes and found Dain on his other side. Dammit. He wondered if Dain would throw a fit if Elei just got up and moved to Kalaes’ other side. Wondered if it mattered.

But then Zoe left her kids and came to join them. The circle was completed.

“Welcome,
pooskers
,” she said, “to the Hound realm.” A little boy came to stand behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder like a lost puppy. He was so tiny he barely managed it. “I’m Zoe, and around you, you see most of my gang. We’re proud of sheltering so many little ones.” She petted the little boy’s head and grinned. “So now you all know me. I don’t know all of you, though. Okay, I know Kalaes, the spiky-haired one.”

Kalaes cocked his head to the side and grinned back.

“I know Dain,” Zoe said, pointing at the sulky blond boy, “and I’ve met Mitt and his girls, Sora and Kala, before.”

The three nodded.

“So who are you?” Zoe turned to Elei, then Alendra.

Elei hesitated, drew back his hood, but Kalaes slung an arm over his shoulders before he could speak.

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