Age of Mystics (Saga of Mystics Book 1) (12 page)

A black line, very thin against the gray cement was the only indication of impact on the walls. Jordan looked at the little bit of stone that Donna had chipped away yesterday. He wondered if there was anything he could do to expand on it. He had to wonder about something, because some weird shit was going on. When they had woken that morning, the mound where they had buried Donna was completely covered with flowers of the kind that Emma had placed on Donna’s grave. No flowers in history had ever grown that fast. They had chosen not to think about it, or to try not to think about it. They had definitely chosen not to talk about it.

Emma had gone to caring for the plants, some of which were growing fruit a little earlier than they should, or so Emma said. Additionally, many of them had large amounts of said produce. They could eat that, and he was hungry, so that thrilled him. He didn’t have much to do, so opening that hole wider seemed like a good choice. He looked over at the axe, still covered with the young soldier’s blood from where it had been buried in her leg. He picked it up and walked over to one of the air holes, letting the rain fall down on it and wiping the blood away.

Axe in hand and standing before the one place where Donna’s efforts had produced any result, he looked carefully at the structure. He needed to know whether the bars went for a while or forever. If they went on as a skeletal structure for the concrete, they would never get out, but if they were only for a short bit, they could get out.

“Jordan, don’t,” he heard behind him. Emma was standing and staring at him, shock and fear on her face. He walked over to her.

“It is okay, Doc.” He replied, “I will use the pick side, I will swing one handed, in a short motion and I will protect myself against injury. I don’t want you to have to make a second grave any more than you do.” He smiled, but she was having none of it.

“That is not funny.” She turned her back and went back to her plants.

Jordan stared at her for a bit. The Doc was older than him by almost double, but he found her very attractive. “You are right, Emma.” He said, “I will be careful, okay?”

She didn’t turn, or say anything. He took that as an acceptance and turned back to work on the wall. He followed the line of one of the bars down the wall. As he hit, it wasn’t very hard. Initially, he was lucky to get a millimeter of cement to come off of that wall. Eventually, the pieces became almost a centimeter in diameter. This was going to take forever.

Miles Damiano had studied at the Fine Modern Karate Academy ever since it had opened three years before. At that point, Major Fine’s constant duties in the army required someone to occasionally watch over his dojo. Miles, being in his mid-twenties, with no commitments and a fierce sense of loyalty, was a great choice to “manage” the dojo. He was pretty sure the Major valued him now. Miles was the highest rank in the classes, a Brown Belt, only months away from testing for his Black. Marcus had been the highest rank, but he now lay dead in the park, a victim of his own hubris in attacking Fine. Now, something was going on, and Miles was in the perfect place to capitalize. He was already shaping up to be Major Fine’s right hand man in this new crisis.

Trusting Fine’s motives was nothing new to Miles. Until the day before, he thought the Major did not remember him, but they had met when Miles was stationed at Ft Carson for a year and a half, and they had served together in the sand. He always thought it best that Fine didn’t recognize him, even after all this time, because Miles had been a sub-par soldier. Like many who join the military, Miles Damiano was trying to find his place in the world. He had a natural flair for leading, and was instantly drawn to leadership positions. He also came from a pretty poor family, many of whom had devolved into lives of crime. This showed itself in Miles’ ability as a scrounge. In the Army, a scrounge is someone who can get things, anything. Miles was an excellent scrounge. Languishing as a buck private in the Army was never going to work for him. Now he had the chance to increase in importance and power based only on his actions, and he was thrilled.

When Eric Fine gave an order, Miles was not one to question it. He just did as he was told. This morning, Miles had seen Sensei (as Mr. Fine was called) absolutely destroy that traitor, Marcus, who had tried to attack him. The power exhibited by his sensei only served to cement his loyalty and admiration. He wanted that power. Marcus’ death propelling him into the highest ranked follower only added to his joy at the circumstance.

For the last few hours, he had directed the efforts to clear the buildings on their block. They had collected over fifty villagers (as The Major called them) and rounded them up for Fine’s assessment. Some joined them as helpers, some were thrown in the stockade, and some Eric Fine would point out – nodding to Miles, and tell the group that they could not be in the camp. Miles would then take them out to “release them”. Four men, no women, had been taken to a part of the park and “released”. They had been released from life, as Miles crushed their larynx, so they couldn’t yell out and then suffocated them. Major Fine gave him the order, and he carried it out. He would not question the orders, and there was no reason to do so. Eric Fine was keeping the group safe, and seemed the only one able to tell the bad apples from the good. Miles was more than happy to remove those bad apples from the barrel.

The street in front of the dojo was now cleared of cars and the barricades extended down the street and around the current block. Miles was now documenting each room and its capacity on the block for Eric’s approval, and then he would assign housing to the team, followed by assigning poorer housing to the villagers. The Major had been very clear, where people were housed and their access to supplies would be based on their benefit to the team. The assessment was only done by the sensei, but he had left the actual housing to Miles. It wasn’t his favorite chore, but it was a responsibility he did not take lightly. He looked over the list to make sure it was complete, and then presented it to the leader.

“Sensei,” Miles began with a bow, “I have the housing list for you.”

Eric took it out of his hand and perused it. “This is everything?” He didn’t wait for a response and Miles didn’t offer one. “This is more than enough for what we have right now, but it won’t be enough to last. We will have to clear out other buildings also. Move the men through the buildings across the street here. Actually, take the whole next block, then move all of the barricades to enclose our camp. Is that clear?”

Miles bowed again, “It is, Sensei.”

“Then move out.” Fine turned back toward the dojo and walked inside. Miles motioned to four guys nearby of advanced rank (minimum green belt) and called them to himself.

“We have orders,” he said when they were close enough, “Each leader take two soldiers with you, we are going to clear the east side of the street and that whole block. I will take a different group and move the barricades, we are expanding the camp. Choose, and move. We need to finish before the light gives out.”

The rain was in waves now, instead of the steady downpour they had experienced for the last two days. A cheer had gone up from the crowd when the rain had stopped, but it had soon come back. It was intermittent now, and that was okay. They were all already so wet, they didn’t notice it that much. He would have to catalog the other block tomorrow, but for now, he needed to get people moving cars and securing the other block as well as they had this one secured. Mostly, he had the soldiers from Fort Carson do that.

“Meyer,” he said to the man that had told the others to stand down when the Major had killed their officer, “Sensei wants us to move the barricades around the east block here as well.” Meyer had served in the sand as well; he had been Miles’ platoon sergeant. They did not like each other, and Miles enjoyed giving him orders rather than deference.

“Are you kidding me? After the work we did to set this one up?” The heavy-set man wiped his brow.

“I don’t know. Do you want me to go ask him if he was joking?” Miles said sternly. “I am sure he would be thrilled to know that soldiers are questioning his orders.”

The man waved his hands up, immediately giving in. “No, no, we will do it.” He turned to his men. “Okay guys we have a little more labor to do before the light goes down.” There were groans and murmurs, but they did the job. No one wanted Eric Fine to be angry with them.

Miles was even more impressed with his sensei after the way today had gone. After absolutely destroying the man who tried to attack him, he had given a big speech, letting them all know where they stood. He had classified the members of the camp as Tigers who he defines as leaders, as soldiers, or as villagers. Everyone had work to do within the camp. Mr. Fine’s show of power was already enough to get the people in line. As it started to sprinkle again, Miles stepped inside the main building where the villagers were gathered. Three days ago it had been a restaurant.

He sat at a table and began to write out this night’s housing as he had been directed. He gave favored housing to Tigers, then soldiers, then villagers who were able to perform very useful work, and finally to villagers who could only do the simplest of work. This was most of the villagers. When he was finished, he stood and called for their attention. When he had it, he gave them simple direction.

“Okay, folks. We have housing assignments for tonight for each of you. Don’t get too settled in, we may have to move you every day. We don’t know what tomorrow brings. After I am done here, you can come get the info of where you are going to be staying tonight. To keep you all safe from flooding and any other potential risk, we have moved all of you to second or third story spots. Additionally, Sensei Fine wanted me to let you know that anyone who wants to train in combat is welcome. If you want to join the soldiers, or if you would just like to learn the basics of defending yourself, we will gather just after daybreak in the street to practice. All soldiers are required to attend, but for you all, it is a choice.”

As they came to him to get their assignments, Miles thought on the brilliance of the words that Fine had told him to use. The real reason they had moved them up floors was so they couldn’t sneak away in the night and warn people about the camp before the camp was ready to defend itself. He also said ‘anyone’ could train, but they would weed out any women that wanted to train. The Major was old school, and didn’t believe it was a woman’s place to fight. He had also promised the men they could have their pick of the villagers, that fighting men needed a woman to warm their bed. Miles looked at the group and singled out a few that might meet that need for him. After Eric Fine, Miles Damiano had first pick, and he planned to use it well.

Jenny entered the wide open lobby of the hotel, half-expecting to meet a gaggle of people who were either staying there, or who had taken up residence since the power went out. But, there was no one. This small chain hotel on the west side of the freeway had always been a popular spot, so she was a little worried about the place being packed, but there was no one at all. She walked around in the dim lobby, only lit through the full glass at the front and everything was put together, but she was the only person in the area. She sat down behind the counter for a bit of quiet, but there was no sound coming at all, and no auras when she checked.

Thinking there must be people in the rooms, she made her way to the staircase, which was pitch black. Even reaching out with her inner sight, there was no movement or aura in it. She felt her way all the way up to the fifth floor, which she knew was the top. She assumed the roof was one more floor, but she wanted to see if anyone was inside. The halls on floor five were bare, she listened and lightly knocked on doors, but there were no sounds, nothing. She tried the doors, at first afraid that the electric locks would block her entrance, but their electric nature meant that every room was actually open. No one was here at all. Some of the rooms were in disarray, like they had been used and not cleaned, but at least half of them were made up for new guests. Jenny went back to the stairway door and jammed a chair up underneath the handle.

In each room, she foraged for any food. There were nuts and water in each refrigerator, as well as four vending machines that had candy, snacks and sodas in them. It took Jenny what she considered to be a ridiculous amount of time to figure out how to get items out of the vending machines. She had hit them, pushed them and done just about everything she could think of, before she noticed the fire extinguisher, which she used to smash the Plexiglas and take what she wanted. The sodas were a little too secure, but she wasn’t much of a soda drinker and there was water in every room. She pulled her haul into a large room with a queen sized bed and opened the curtains to look outside. The room faced south, and far off to the south, there were fires. The rain had only let up occasionally, but she could see the smoke in the south and center of the city. It looked like a lot.

Opening up some chips and a bottle of water, she sat on the bed. It was so comfortable; she knew she wanted to rest here before moving on. She decided to stay the night in a warm bed, under fresh covers. It wasn’t even dark yet, so she decided to practice her yoga. On the carpet of that hotel room floor, she stretched and posed. She centered herself in a way she had not experienced before, and the calm of it gave her such a sense of stability. She was learning to use the inner sight, or more accurately the practice of calling it up, as a manner in which to achieve a deeper meditative state. It was wonderful.