Rise of Alpha (The Prodian Journey #1) (13 page)

“It is now,” Matro quipped.

“Shannon is awake,” Gilbert interrupted and left the room in a hurry.

“Go now and be safe,” Detherina said to me. “Try to act normal. You have a good head on those shoulders of yours. Do the right thing and use your best judgment. Maintain normalcy. We’ll be in touch.” She placed a comforting hand on my arm.

Maintain normalcy?
The thought made me laugh. That would be a challenge. I was never
normal
. The idea was ludicrous, but I didn’t say anything. Instead, I stood up and bobbed my head in understanding. With my head spinning from all the new information, I walked back through the secret door in the wall.

“Here.” Gilbert thrust two glasses of orange juice at me.

“Thanks.” Wow, these creatures moved fast.

I tapped on the door before entering the bedroom. Shannon stirred in bed, and when her puffy eyes settled on me, she tried to smile.

“Good morning. I got you OJ,” I said in my most cheerful voice.

She sat up and stretched her arms toward the ceiling, stifling a yawn. “You had a nightmare.”

I handed a glass to her and sat on the edge of the bed. When her sweet scent floated across the room, my raging teenage hormones made their presence known. I crossed my legs to hide the damning evidence.

“Yeah, I have an overactive imagination.”
 

Shannon sighed, her eyes filled with sadness. I wanted to touch her face, but I kept my hands where they were, wrapped around my glass. I took a quick swig.

“I’m scared,” she whispered, her voice quivering.

I had no idea what to say, but I scooted closer. “I know you are, but you have to stay strong. I’m here for you.”

Her eyes glistened. “Thanks, Curly.”

“Listen, I have to get home before my parents go ape-shit. I’ll call you in a bit, okay?” I got up and placed my glass on her nightstand.

She watched me, looking glum.
 

“Let me know how you’re doing.” I reached out and squeezed her hand. As usual, electric jolts ran down my spine.

“I will,” she paused, “and thank you for keeping me company.”

“No worries.” The moment I walked out of her room, I got a distinct feeling of loss.

When I got back home and opened the front door, the aroma of bacon and eggs lured me to the kitchen. Classical music was playing in the background, as usual. It was a typical Saturday morning in the Morrison household.
 

“Hey, guys.” I flopped in the chair next to my dad.
 

“You’re just in time for brunch.” My mother turned around with a smile, but it soon disappeared when she got a look at my face. She gasped and rushed over to me. “Heavens, Brian! What happened to you?”
 

My dad looked up from his paper, and his brows furrowed. “Young man, you know how I feel about fighting,” he said in a stern tone.

Self-conscious, I tried to cover the evidence with my hand, but when my palm made contact with the bridge of my nose, I flinched from the pain and my eyes watered.

“Explain yourself,” Dad ordered while Mom fussed over me, the frying bacon forgotten.

I waved her off. “Mom, I’m okay. It’s not broken.” Then I turned to my dad. “I didn’t start the fight. I’m not suspended from school, but Kevin Masters is.”

My explanation seemed to calm my dad down a bit. “That boy is a bully.”

My mother huffed. She knew how miserable Kevin had made my life since middle school. “He ought to be expelled.”

“Cynthia, it’ll take more than one suspension to get the son of a prominent councilman expelled from school,” my father reminded her. “I still don’t want you fighting, Brian. Avoid him at all costs.” We’d had this conversation many times over the years. My father didn’t realize the impossibility of what he was asking.

“I know. I’m glad he was suspended. Serves him right.”
 

Mom went back to her bacon while I drummed my fingers on the table. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I smelled the food.

“How is Shannon?” Dad asked.

I told them about her father’s death, omitting all the crazy details.
 

When I fell silent, Mom asked, “You like her, don’t you?”
 

I’d known it was just a matter of time before she questioned my friendship with Shannon.

“She’s a friend,” I said, trying to sound casual.
 

“Well, she’s a pretty girl, and such a delight to talk to. I hope she comes out of this tragedy in one piece.” Mom shook her head.
 

“She’ll be all right.” I kept my expression blank.

“Give her a hug for me,” she said.

I’d love to, but since Matro had been designated to keep me in line, I wouldn’t dare. I happened to like having my limbs intact.

“Here you are.” Mom placed a plateful of food on the table.
 

I picked up my fork to help myself, but my dad coughed. “Let’s say grace first.” He took my hand and my mom’s to create a little circle. We bowed our heads for a silent prayer.
 

The moment they released my hands, I dove in. The rest of the meal was spent talking about Dad’s new celebrity clients. Thankful that attention had turned away from my swollen nose, I feigned interest to avoid any further discussion about it.
 

After I helped clear the dishes away, I went to my room and got in the shower. I thought about my nightmare. The explosion meant something had happened, but I didn’t know what it was yet or who’d been the sacrificial lamb this time. I hated not knowing.

My cell phone beeped with an incoming text when I was toweling myself dry. It was from Shannon.
 

Relatives are coming from out of town. Will be busy the entire weekend.
 

I replied,
Take it easy. I’ll miss you,
 

Me, too.
 

Those two words made me feel good, making the prospect of not seeing Shannon more bearable.
 

With the entire weekend all to myself, I decided to finish my homework right away so I could spend my time hanging out with Mark and Darryl. I flipped my English Lit book open and took out a sheet of paper to outline my analysis. I started skimming, having read
The Glass Menagerie
years ago. For some insane reason, the words “friend” and “tragedy” kept flashing before my eyes while I read.
 

I tried to concentrate on my outline, but the image of the words kept hounding me. The continuous bombardment exhausted me. I put down my pen and fished out my ear buds, hoping music would distract me. While I waited for inspiration to hit, I leaned against the headboard of my bed and closed my eyes. I must have fallen asleep, because it was dark when I opened them again.
 

The clock said it was already nine o’clock. I had been asleep for several hours. Why in the hell hadn’t Mark and Darryl shown up? I rolled closer to the nightstand and to switch on the lamp, and everything fell into place like a jigsaw puzzle. Matro’s words echoed in my head. I jumped up and paced the room while dialing Darryl’s number. He didn’t pick up, so I tried Mark’s number. Thank God, he answered on the second ring.
 

“Bro, where are you? Where’s Darryl?”

“I’m with him. We dropped by your house, but you were sleeping. Then his Dad called him to fill in at the gas station tonight.”

“Are you there yet?” I shouted, feeling the ringing in my ears. It now made so much sense.
 

“Yeah, we got here two hours ago. What’s going on?”

“Get out! Get out now!”
 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Mark sounded alarmed.

“Get out of the gas station. Run as fast as you can. Do it now!” I yelled across the line. “I’m not kidding. Now!”
 

I pictured the massive explosion, the darkness of the night lit with bright orange flames and filled with suffocating black smoke. The words from
The Glass Menagerie
—friend and tragedy. It had been a warning all along. Now I remembered Matro’s advice. The Ergans would stop at nothing.
 

Mark didn’t respond, and the call was dropped. “What the hell?” I redialed but got a busy signal. My heart was pounding hard against my chest. I ran out of the house, car keys and phone in hand, barefoot and still in just my pajama bottoms.

Please, please, don’t let this happen. Please!
 

A cloud of dust was left in my wake when I hit the accelerator hard, hoping I wouldn’t be too late for my friends.

The war had begun.
 

Aarmark versus Ergans

With no plan in mind, I wove in and out of late night traffic, trying to reach Mark and Darryl. There was no way I would let them fend for themselves since I was responsible for endangering them. Without their knowledge, they had been dragged into a war just because of their association with me.

I tailgated and cut in front of cars to get ahead, receiving a lot of angry honks while I snaked through every gap I could find.
 

Matro appeared in the passenger seat next to me without warning.
 

“You scared me,” I hollered, flooring the gas again.

“Sorry,” he said, intently watching the road.

We were still a few blocks away when the ground shook and massive flames shot into the night sky. The intense light burned in the darkness.
 

“Oh, hell!” I pounded the steering wheel with my fist.
 

Inch by inch, I worked through the sudden jumble of cars that had stopped in the middle of the street. I took a hard left onto a side street and found a parking spot. We took to the street on foot, Matro running next to me. I threw a quick glance at him, and he was already armed with weapons strapped across his chest. His scabbard made jingling noises while we covered the first block.
 

Several sirens blared in the distance. Matro stopped running, but I kept on, ignoring the way the rough pavement scraped my feet and each little pebble punched into my skin. When he caught up, he was holding his shoes out to me.

“Stop and wear these.” He handed me the big-ass pair of combat boots.

I followed his orders even though I’d look like a clown in my PJ bottoms, T-shirt, and boots. Who would care, anyway? I slipped on the oversized shoes and wasted no time continuing my sprint.

When we cleared the corner, several fire trucks had already trained their hoses on the burning structure. Clouds of smoke were billowing up while they battled the raging inferno. I scanned the crowd, hoping to see Darryl and Mark somewhere. My heart pounded against my chest.
 

“Sir, you can’t move any closer.” A cop eyed me with detachment.
 

I glanced at Matro and realized the cop couldn’t see him, so I stepped back.

“Ha-have you seen two teenage boys anywhere?” I stammered, unable to get the words out of my mouth. My tics were trying to manifest themselves, but I suppressed them, rotating my neck to ease the tension in my muscles.

The distracted cop shook his head, and I had no choice but to move to another location. The onlookers multiplied by the minute, gawking at the tower of brilliant flames. There was movement not too far away from us, and I saw two Ergans back away.
 

“I’ll be right back.” Matro palmed his scabbard and left in pursuit.

Jesus. What a mess. I cupped my palm to my mouth and called out for Mark and Darryl as loud as I could. My voice had to compete with the noise surrounding me. I walked back and forth, but there were too many people. Just when I was starting to think I had lost them, I spotted Mark and Darryl leaning against a squad car, talking to an officer. I ran toward them as fast as my legs would take me.

Their expressions when they saw me were terrified but relieved. I barreled in their direction, heedless of the cop interviewing them. We hugged like we’d never done before.
   

After a few minutes, Mark pulled away, looking uncomfortable, and then glanced around. “Did you dream about this?”