The Collective

THE

COLLECTIVE

KENAN HILLARD

Copyright © 2015 by Kenan
Hillard

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13: 978-0692360736

ISBN-10: 0692360735

This book is for my father and mother:

CHARLES

       For instilling persistence,
determination and a no-quit attitude

&

RACHEL

For blessing me with my creative spirit and
enduring will

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks to everyone who helped THE COLLECTIVE
become a reality. A few short years ago it was just a thought, something I
wanted to share and hoped that readers would enjoy.

CHAPTER 1

XONOX

“Father, may I have a word?” The words
hung in the room. Victor Xonox turned surprised to see his daughter, Pheona and
trusted aide Dante. She had grown so much since her mother’s passing. She was
dressed in a silk evening dress, her arms and neck adorned with her mother’s
jewelry, long dark hair fell over her shoulders. Xonox marveled at the striking
resemblance to his wife. Dante was dressed sharply in a custom suit from
Xonox’s personal tailor. A purveyor of information, Dante was a valuable asset
and often had vital information to share. He waited silently for Xonox to
conclude his conversation.

“Pheona, what brings you to my study? Shouldn’t you be
preparing for the soiree?” Xonox asked trying to get a sense of her abrupt
appearance.

“Is it true? You’ve found the House member who tried to end
Hilson’s life?” Pheona shot back.

Xonox stared at Dante, the only person who could have
enlightened his daughter on the situation. He was not angry, but now he
understood why his daughter had come to him. She regularly inquired about the
Xonox Empire. She desired to take his position one day and Xonox loved the
idea. Circumstances out of his control had robbed him of his only legitimate
son.  There was only one problem. For all of Pheona’s aspirations for the
finest of life, she was too soft. Too caring and giving. Too much like her late
mother.  If only he had a son, Xonox thought. He looked at his aide as he
addressed Pheona. “I presume Dante has imparted the details to you.”

“Sir, she was quite persistent and I know how you like to
keep Miss Xonox abreast of developing situations.” Dante struggled to give
Xonox clarification.

“True. But I distinctly remember telling you to conceal
this bit of information until the   deed was done.” Xonox peered at Dante out
the corner of his eye. Though he was valuable, Dante had to be reminded
occasionally that he could be replaced as easily as Xonox changed his suits.
Dante was seldom on the receiving end of one of Xonox’s stares. He witnessed
and heard stories of their devastation. One too many and the recipient could
end up missing or worse.  An incompetent chef had seasoned Xonox’s dinner
incorrectly too often for his liking. Reprimanded with a stare twice in one
week, by the third time he was relieved of his station. His quarters were
invaded in the middle of the night and he was dragged from his bed, with his
wife screaming in the background. Stripped to his under garments he was dragged
through the street by twelve of Xonox’s guards for all to behold. Finally he was
driven to the edge of the city and thrown out, to be shot on sight upon return.
He lasted three days before trying to enter the city.

Pheona sought to take her father’s thoughts of displeasure
away from Dante. “Father, it’s not Dante’s fault. I can be quite persuasive. I
am your daughter.”

“True.” Xonox agreed with her. “And that is the only reason
I won’t throw Dante into my tiger pit.”

Dante visibly shook at the thought. “Thank you, sir.”

“I jest Dante. You are family after all.” Xonox said
half-heartedly.

“As I am honored to be, but I have news on the House member
we spoke about. Should I speak freely?” Dante spoke quickly attempting to work
his way back into his master’s good graces.

“Yes.” Xonox replied. “We both know she will get the
information from you later. Let us sit.”

Xonox made his way to the desk and chair backed against the
clear glass. The city was his backdrop. Pheona and Dante set on the U-shaped
couch in front of him with their feet settled on the black bear rug. A server
appeared from the side room placing cups, plates, tea and sandwiches for the
group. She waited as Xonox sipped the tea.  It was to his liking as he waved
her off. He made a mental note. She had worked with him for over a year and
after the first month her tea was always the perfect temperature. Perhaps this
attention to detail could be useful in other arenas.

“What information do you have Dante?” Xonox asked sipping
his tea.

“The suspected conspirator has left the Water Facility with
a caravan and all the water he could carry.” Dante informed Xonox. “Supposedly
he told Distor the water was for the city.”

“How many and what is his destination?” Xonox held his cup
as he waited for Dante’s response.

Dante did not hesitate. “He’s traveling in a luxury vehicle
with his aide, four hummers armed with four men a piece, four men on
motorcycles and one cargo truck with supplies and eight men inside. It appears
he’s headed for asylum with the Croman Family under the House of Janus
two-hundred miles west.”

“As I suspected.” Xonox placed his cup down. “I’ve had my
suspicion of Croman for many years.”

“What is your course of action? Should we try to
intercept?  It will be hard to catch him now.” Dante was unsure how to proceed,
but he knew what the final results would be.

“My course of action is always the same and unwavering.”
Xonox paused for effect.  “Death to anyone that plots against the family. 
Gerrius Crispus will be dealt with in good time.”

Pheona was startled by the name. “Gerrius! Father...No!”

“Pheona. What have I taught you?” Xonox sat up in his chair
as he recited his father’s favorite quote. “Power belies lenience.”

The young lady Xonox persisted. “But Crispus’s son, Juda.
We have been friends for years. This would ruin him. What about him?”

“Actually he is on the ballroom floor as one of our guests,
very unaware of his father’s deception.” Xonox replied undaunted.

“Father, please.” Pheona begged.

“I have no intention of harming the young man.” He sighed
as he responded forcing a fake smile. “He is here for your gathering.”

“If his father dies the blood will be on your hands.” She
was incredulous.

Xonox looked at her sternly. “No child. My hands will be
unsoiled.”

“I’ll never forgive you.” Pheona snapped back. “It’s like
mother all over again.”

Before the first of the House of Vancrew could gaze in
Dante’s direction, the aide was excusing himself from the room. No one
mentioned Xonox’s wife or the tragic circumstances of her death.  Xonox pounded
the desk as Dante retreated. “Your mother knew the risks. I told her to take a private
jet. She insisted on flying with the other philanthropists. Who knew terrorists
would attack?”

“You, obviously.” His daughter said cynically.

He raised one of his eyebrows, staring at his daughter.
“What are you implying?”

“What everyone else whispers.” She spoke frantically. “You
downed that plane. You killed my mother and your son, my brother. I guess a
required sacrifice for the ascension of the Xonox Family.”

“Is that what you think?” Xonox asked taken aback by
Pheona’s bluntness. “You believe these lies over your father?”

“Not at first. Not when I was younger.” Pheona wiped the
tears from her eyes. “But I’ve seen how you operate. Cold and heartless. You
care about nothing and no one in your quest for absolute power.”

Pheona’s vicious words nipped at Xonox’s heart. She came by
her venomous tone naturally. The tears streaming down her face were her
mother’s trademark. He walked from behind his desk and wrapped his arms around
his daughter. Compassion was uncommon in Xonox. Holding Pheona he tried to express
his feelings. “I loved your mother and brother. She was lovely and stubborn
like you. Your brother was young, but already being reared as my successor. All
I have left is you. Of all I’ve gained in this world, you are what I prize the
most.”

“Then prove it. Let Crispus live.” Pheona said softly.

Xonox was unmoved. “In time you will see why these
decisions are made.”

She pushed her father away as the tears dried up. “You’re
wrong. I’ll never be like you.”

Pheona headed to the exit and Xonox watched her leave. She
was smart and she was right. Xonox had given up a great deal to secure his
position. He was not remorseful. There was no success without sacrifice.

“Sir.” Dante broke his thoughts. “Just to inform you, your
party has begun on Level Forty-nine.”

“Thank you Dante.” Xonox sat back in his seat.

“What do you want to do about Crispus, sir?” Dante asked,
patiently awaiting Xonox’s directive.

“It’s already taken care of.” The ruler adjusted his coat
and grabbed the tea cup.

His aide was dumbfounded. “May I ask how? I just gave you
the information.”

Xonox let the question linger in the air for a few seconds
before he answered. “I spoke with Distor two days ago. I told him if any
caravan comes to the Water Facility to inform me.  He was able to stall Crispus
while I notified someone to take care of the matter permanently. He should be
meeting them on the road as we speak.”  

“Who’s meeting them?” Dante asked still puzzled.

Xonox spoke through his teeth with a wicked smile. “The
Mountie.”

CHAPTER 2

THE MOUNTIE

“Driver, pick up the pace!” Gerrius Crispus shifted forward
as he shouted.

“Sir, this is as fast as we can go.” The driver responded
without turning around.

The caravan was on schedule despite the delay at the Water
Facility. Crispus was pleased with how smoothly everything was going. He was
prepared to fight his way out of the city. His attempt on Hilson’s life had
failed. Had he succeeded he would have gained influence and moved to the third
position in the House of Vancrew, placing him within striking distance of
Xonox. When the Collective was imagined it was for the elite to have complete
control over the commoners. Somehow Xonox had positioned himself to have
complete dominion over one of the upper houses, The House of Vancrew. Crispus
and his peers were more akin to his staff than his equals. Xonox’s
unprecedented reign had thrust him into a ‘God amongst men’ status in the
region. The mention of his name brought dread to the rich and poor alike.
Crispus believed he had to be stopped to bring the power scale back into
balance. Now he sought sanctuary in the House of Janus. If Vancrew was the
third, Janus was often considered the second House among the eight. Once under
Croman’s protection he could send for his family. Xonox could not deny him then
or he would risk waging a civil war with Croman. But if he failed to reach
Croman, he shuddered to think of his family’s fate. His son Juda had befriended
Pheona, Xonox’s daughter, but his wife, mother and innocent daughter may not be
so lucky.

“The water cargo truck is slowing us down. Should we speed
ahead?” The driver noted.

Crispus broke from his thoughts. “No. How far do we have?”
He had no intention of leaving the precious cargo unescorted.

Crispus’s aide answered, leaving the driver to focus on the
road. “We are halfway to the the House of Janus. We should start seeing the
towers in a few hours. Your family will be joining us soon. Relax Crispus, we
are home free.”

“Just seemed too easy.” The former fourth of the House of
Vancrew’s voice was shaking as he spoke. “And nothing ever is with Xonox.” The
words scarcely left his mouth before the driver called his attention to
something in the road.

“There’s someone in the median up ahead.”

Leaning past the driver, Crispus could see a figure in the
distance. “Run him over if you have to. I want to keep time.”

Four hummers rode in front of Crispus’s car, two on each
side. The motorcycles ran in pairs along the sides of the vehicle. Behind was
the slow cargo truck carrying the treasures; water and gasoline supplies.
Speeding towards the lone wanderer, the lead Hummer driver switched on the
microphone and broadcasted over the truck’s speakers. “Exit the street. You are
in the path of Gerrius Crispus of the House of Vancrew.”

The man in their path tilted his head up. That was exactly
what he wanted to hear. Stopping in the middle of the paved highway he brushed
back his long trench coat to show his full body armor. Blue-tinted goggles
shielded his eyes. Rolling up his sleeves he unveiled the metal bracelets on
his forearms. Around his waist running up beneath his biceps were slim metal
boxes with an unknown purpose. He tapped a button on his left wrist and lifted
his arms up so the metal boxes were unobstructed. “Target Acquired” the computer
chirped into the chip implanted behind his ear. The convoy was bearing down on
him full speed, but they were slightly out of range. At eighty-five feet away
from the drifter the computer spoke again “Launching”. Two cylindrical shaped
metal disks whizzed from the boxes. They magnetically attached to the front of
the Hummers.