Legend of the Book Keeper (15 page)

“And, so what are two children such as yourselves doing out here in the Nevada desert? And with this blacksheep?” She winked over to Randilin. Cody looked to his two traveling companions, unsure as to how much to reveal to the lady. Randilin saved him the trouble, speaking for the first time, “I’m afraid it’s not good news. They come carrying
the Code
.” Randilin’s answer had a visible impact on Sally’s face. Her happy-go-lucky expression warped into a look of terror and confusion.

“Good heavens! Randy, this is no time for jests,” she exclaimed, troubled. Randilin’s silence confirmed that her fears were true. “How? When? What are we going to do? What about the Hunter? Are you here on your way to the Second Passage Way? How much do they know about A . . .” Randilin’s hand shot up, placing a finger on her lips. She stopped talking.

“Sally, there is no need to speak of things,” he glanced toward Cody and Jade, “which do not need to be spoken of. I know it’s an impossibility for you, but try to hold your tongue.” He took a deep breath, showing, for the first time, heavy signs of fatigue. “It is true. That is where we are heading. As for the Hunter . . .” Randilin paused before finishing, “he has already feasted.”

Sally gasped, holding her hands over her mouth. “Then it has finally awoken? Please don’t tell me, what of Wesley, I’m afraid to ask, is he . . . did he . . .” Randilin nodded slowly, “Unfortunately, Wesley is the first casualty of the coming war.” All the while, Cody and Jade sat stunned, listening intently, but unable to make sense of the conversation. Suddenly, Sally stood up, surprising her three guests. The look of terror was gone, a look of determination shone on her face. “What’s our first move?”

Cody gave a sly smile to Jade; they both realized the value of their newly-gained ally. Randilin, too, was unable to suppress a grin, “Oh, Sally, you old harpy, you make a wretched dinner companion, but I sure wouldn’t want to be your enemy! We have little time to waste. We pack the gear and head for the passageway . . . tonight.”

A Brewing Storm

T
hunder shook the sky as the clouds exploded into a fury of rain. Pulling down his hat tighter to block the onslaught, a man trekked across the street, his feet splashing in the accumulating puddles.
I don’t have time for this!
Crossing the street, he entered into a brisk walk down the empty pathway. He checked his watch: Quarter ‘til midnight.
I still have fifteen minutes.
He picked up the pace knowing full well that his night’s business would not allow him to be a moment late.

Spinning down another dimly lit street, the man was relieved to see his destination before him. Glancing around quickly he ensured that he was, indeed, alone before crossing the street. A rickety, abandoned house towered before him; the doors and windows had been boarded up. Whatever ancient use they once served was long since lost. Crossing around to the side of the house, he knelt down, fumbling with the keys in his pocket. The heavy rain left red streaks across his face as it pounded relentlessly against it.

Finally, with key in hand, he unlocked a sturdy wooden door, which was mostly concealed by the un-kept foliage swallowing up the
house. Stepping into the darkness, the man pulled the door down firmly above him.

Scurrying down the ladder, he flicked a match and lit several torches around the perimeter of the room. The warmth of the fire felt instantly soothing on his soaking wet skin. The thought of removing the heavy clothes sticking like glue to his damp skin gave him pleasure.
But after, only after.
He had no time to spare. Having lit the final torch, he walked to the corner of the room. Without looking down, he stepped over the crumpled lump on the floor.
Hello, Charlie
. Against the wall was a table, upon which sat a solitary phone. Taking a deep breath, the man picked up the receiver and pressed the speed-dial, there was only one. The phone rang once—then twice. When the phone rang a third time the man became uneasy.
I know you’re there, just answer the phone!
The man got his wish. Following the third ring a voice came over the speaker, “Report.”

The voice was a male’s voice, but not overly deep. It had a chillingly steady tone to it, completely purged of emotion. The rain-drenched man’s voice faltered slightly as he spoke, “My Master, the Book is still in the possession of the children. They appear to be guided by a native—Sir Randilin. Also, Sir, our men have encountered the Hunter, unknown casualties.”

The man on the other end spoke in the same emotionless tone, “Casualties are of no concern. I sacrifice their lives willingly for the cause.” The indifference of his words sent a chill down the caller’s spine. “What of the children?” asked the icy voice.

The caller’s mind raced over the memorized report in his mind, but the words still came out slow, hesitant, and clumsy, “Cody Clemenson and Mari Shimmers, Sir.” There was a long pause. The caller held his breathe.

At last the man on the other end responded, “Curious . . . this is a fascinating development. Don’t underestimate them. Any leads on their course of action?”

“Yes, Sir, we are tracking them now. We have reason to believe they will lead us directly to the entrance. It should not be long.”

“Indeed. I believe it is time for CROSS to handle the situation personally. I will dispatch one of our agents. Success is crucial.” The rain-drenched man shivered; he did not like the direction the conversation was leading, “What of the hired mercenaries? Shall I dismiss them?”

“No. We cannot afford to leave any traces. CROSS does not exist . . . ,” the cold voice paused as though savoring the words the way one enjoys a juicy thanksgiving turkey, “. . . eliminate them.”

“Yes, Master,” the man responded dutifully.

“Well done, Dunstan. You have played your role well; the world will remember you for it. See to it, for your sake, that there are no mistakes. ”

“Yes, Sir.” At the sound of the dial tone, the man exhaled loudly. He had done well. He stripped off his drenched clothing and collapsed onto his bed. He needed his sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day. Tomorrow—the war was going to begin.

The Break-In

A
chorus of howls sailed on the midnight desert draft. With the retreat of the sun, a cool air settled in, driving away the tyranny of the day’s scorching heat. The soft breeze slithered across the earth like the rhythmic breaking of ocean waves. The setting sun had ushered in the ritual nighttime circus of creatures, predator and prey alike, basking in the luxurious night chill. Joining the animals in their festivities was a boy, standing on a sandy dune as though the captain on the bow of his ship.

Cody gazed across the eternal sea of sand. Off in the distance he could faintly make out the dim flickering of light, a dying candle illuminating through the darkness. At the sight of the distant lights, Cody shuddered. On any other day the cool air and the solitude of the continuous desert would have been a welcome, soothing experience. However, on any other day he would not have been preparing to break into the most protected, dangerous location in America—Area 51.

A subtle cough crackled to his left,
startling Cody, and announcing that his privacy had been forfeit. Randilin ascended the sand dune and joined Cody in his lookout. For several minutes, the two soaked in the view, watching as a lone star raced across the sky before quickly vanishing from sight.

“Well, son,” Randilin began, “don’t waste a single glance. You people foolishly take this sky for granted every single second you hustle to and fro underneath its splendor.”

Cody knelt down, grasping a fistful of sand and allowing it to slowly trickle through his fingers. “You keep mentioning
you people
as though I am so different from you. I’ve been lugging this Book around with me for days now and still have no idea why. Dunstan was right you know, I
am
just an ignorant child.” Reaching around to his back, Cody pulled the Book out of his backpack. He rubbed his fingers across the smooth leather of the cover and felt the familiar surge of energy rush up his arm. So many questions remained unanswered. He had now witnessed the Book’s power twice; and on both occasions it almost seemed as though the Book was somehow
protecting
him. He shook his head. “Maybe Jade’s right, maybe I’m just seeing what I
want
to see and letting my imagination get the best of me. Perhaps it really is nothing more than a stupid Book.”

Randilin’s face flushed. His mouth shot opened but paused hesitantly, and remained silent. Taking a deep breath he continued in a softened tone, “My boy, it’s true that I’m not particularly fond of you. But you’re going to have to just trust me. Things will make sense in the end. I can promise ya that.”

“But why can’t you just explain yourself now? Isn’t it better that I understand what this Book is if I’m going to try and protect it?”

Randilin crouched down beside Cody. “Do you know how to swim?”

Cody was startled by the randomness of the question, but nodded his head in affirmation. Randilin continued, “Good, good. Okay, so imagine you go for a swim in the ocean. While swimming a big fish pops up beside you and starts talking to you. It asks you what those strange two appendages are that you have in place of your tailfin. What do you tell the fish?”

Cody rolled his eyes, “What does this have to do with anything? I’d tell the fish they were obviously my legs and
. . .”

“But what if the fish then asked you what legs are? And why you would ever need them? Isn’t it better to have a fin if you’re going to swim?”

Cody was growing irritated. “I’d tell the stupid fish that I didn’t use them to swim, I used them to walk across land.
. . .”

“Land? The fish asks you what this strange word
walk
means, and then what you mean by
land
?”

“Ah! I don’t know, I’d put the fish in a bowl and bring it back to the shore with me and show it . . .”

“Exactly!”

Cody raised his eyebrows skeptically. “So, we’re going fishing now? I don’t follow. This is a waste of time.”

Randilin stuck his chubby index finger between Cody’s eyes. “
YOU
are my fish, boy. Don’t you get it? Do you see how pointless it is to explain something to somebody that has no point of reference? The person cannot understand because they have nothing to compare it to. The only way to make them understand is to
show
it to them. Well, right now Cody, you are in my fishbowl. And pretty soon we are going to make it back to the shore and everything will make sense to you. Understand?”

The lecture was put to an abrupt end by the sound of Sally’s voice calling through the diner window, “Oh, Randy, you never did have a way with words. Anyways, we are ready to go. If we hurry, we can reach the passageway before the sun rises and we lose our advantage of nightfall. Come along boys. Chip, chip!”

Cody followed Randilin back toward the diner; the only building laying claim to the desolate landscape. They passed by their stolen black van. Cody stopped for a moment to examine it. After the heat of their frantic escape died out, they had taken time to meticulously search the vehicle for any clue that could identify the origin of Dunstan and his gang. What they had found had been horrifying.

Cody looked to the ground to where three familiar faces were staring hauntingly up at him—one of the faces was his own. He bent down to retrieve the fallen piece of paper. He shivered as he recollected Jade’s piercing shriek the moment she had first discovered the document. She had entered into a state of hysteria. As Cody examined the paper again he began to feel the same terror gripping him; his portrait was flanked by an image of Jade and one of Wesley. The latter had a bold red ‘X’ through it and the word ‘EXTERMINATED’ written below. Below the photos were lists of biographical information about each—systematic detail from eye color and height to miniscule facts such as favorite candy bar and color. The document had been signed by only one word: CROSS.

They had debated the significance of the word to no avail.
Just one more piece of the puzzle that I don’t understand,
thought Cody bitterly. What he did understand, beyond all doubt, was that CROSS, whomever or whatever it was, clearly knew who they were, and would not think twice about killing them to get what they wanted.
We need to get moving.

He entered the diner, ducking beneath the newlyerected sign that read: Closed—Indefinitely. Jade and Sally were waiting for them, both cloaked in black jackets with the hoods pulled up over their heads, casting a shadow over their faces. Sally tossed a matching outfit to Cody, her frizzy pigtails billowing out of her hood in a tangled mess. Cody quickly put on the jacket. With a soft click the lights in the diner were extinguished.