Max Baker: Guardian of the Ninth Sector (16 page)

Without saying a word, she crossed the room and opened the door.  He could hear whispers through the doorway. Donovan and Noah reentered.  Kennedy remained in the room, but stayed in the far corner away from them.

“What did she want?” Noah whispered, joining Max at his bedside.

“She doesn’t want me to do this,” Max responded.

Donovan took one of the cotton swabs that he had drenched with alcohol and rubbed it on the crook of Max’s arm.  It was cold, but Max almost didn’t notice it.  He was focused on Kennedy in the corner.  She wasn’t looking directly at them; her attention was diverted to her cellphone.  Max thought her eyes looked watery, but couldn’t tell from his position.

The pinch of the needle being shoved into his skin caught Max’s attention.

“Sorry,” Donovan said.

“You could really work on your bedside manner,” Max said flatly.

Donovan touched the screen and pressed a couple of buttons on the monitor.  The machine spit out a long, narrow sheet of paper.  As Donovan held it up to the light, Max watched the green lines on the monitor blip, jump up and down, and then blip again.

“Your neural activity levels are very impressive, Max,” Donovan said. He turned a dial attached to the side of the monitor.  The lines jumped faster on the screen.  Max felt his heart rate increase.

Donovan hung a bag of clear fluid at the top of the IV pole.  Then he hung a second bag; a bright orange liquid swirled inside of it.  Max’s arm began to burn as Donovan pushed a couple of buttons on the infusion pump.  His heart kicked into overdrive.  He could feel it banging against the walls of his chest – his
pericardium
his anatomy teacher called it.  The faster it pumped, the more the burning sensation began to spread through Max’s body. 

Max watched as tiny orange droplets dripped from the bag and traveled through the clear tubing and into his veins.  He could feel the liquid being pumped into his heart and then dispersed into his arteries.  The burning grew more intense, and Max felt like his heart was exploding.  He slammed his fist against the metal bed railing.  His body shook uncontrollably.  He felt his jaw clinch tightly.  Max looked down and saw that his hands were turning blue; the bright energy quickly engulfed them.

“No, no, no!” Donovan exclaimed, looking toward Max’s hands.  “You’ll fry the machine if you have an episode now.”

Donovan ran over to a cluster of cabinets on the far side of the room.  He threw open drawers and cabinet doors until he extracted a syringe that was full of a dark brown liquid.  Max watched as his hands grew brighter and brighter.  A bright white light was beginning to fill his vision, and everything was becoming blurrier.  Max felt like his blood was on fire and couldn’t help but to scream out in pain.

“What’s happening?” Kennedy asked.  She sounded far away, and Max felt his body begin to convulse violently.

“Seriously, what is happening?” Noah repeated Kennedy’s question.

Donovan grabbed a cotton swab with his free hand, dipped it in the alcohol and quickly rubbed the liquid on to the center of Max’s chest.

“What’s that for?”  Noah asked.

“Max, this is going to hurt,” Donovan said.

Without any hesitation, Donovan lifted the syringe high into the air and brought it down with force.  The sharp needle sunk deep into Max’s chest.  Max let out another scream as a rush of torturous pain ran through his body.  As quickly as his heart had begun to race, he felt it slow almost to a stop. 

The room seemed to grow further and further away.  He heard Kennedy scream, but it sounded as if it were coming from miles away.  Noah and Donovan yelled back and forth at each other.  It was all so distant.  Max faintly heard Donovan say the words
kill switch
, but it was so muffled that it was hard to make out. 

Max felt sleepy.  His whole body relaxed as he stared blankly toward the bright surgical light hanging high above him.  From miles away, he thought he heard Kennedy crying.  And then there was silence.  He closed his eyes.

Max stood at the footsteps of the castle.  The cool wind whipped across his bare chest, and Max’s teeth chattered together.  Behind him, the two red moons watched over him.  He headed up the slick steps and into the castle.

Max moved quickly through the foyer, stopping to pick up the candelabrum on the way.  He headed down the dark corridor.  Whatever awaited him in the room ahead, Max felt it possessed the key to connecting his past to the present.

As Max reached the door at the end of the hall, he could hear voices coming from the other side.  As quietly as he could, he cracked the door open.  The voices became more distinct.

“My Lord,” Gorthon said.  His voice was deep and gravelly.  “Initial reports from the Council are that this Max Baker child does appear to be the Guardian
.
”

There was a long pause, and Max pushed the door open a bit more as he held his breath.  Through the crack, he could see that the arrangement of the room had changed.  No longer was it filled with medical equipment and his mother. Instead, a cloaked figure sat on a golden throne against the far wall of the room.  Gorthon kneeled at the foot of it.

“That is impossible,” the figure hissed.

“Elder Darthoor has sent word that the Council will be testing the boy tomorrow evening.”

Max pushed the door open enough for him to slide through.  He pushed himself against the wall and moved to a better position.  From under the hood of the cloak, he could see the scarred face of the man from the poster.  It was Ausiris.

“Did you not hear what I said, General?” Ausiris asked, lowering his voice.

“Yes, my Lord.  But-”

“There are no buts!” Ausiris roared as he stood from the throne.  “I am sure of it.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Gorthon repeated, his eyes fixed to the ground.

“I was there the evening that the boy was born, do you not remember?”

“I do, My Lord,” Gorthon said.

“You do?” Ausiris paced away from the beast.

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Then you know as well as I do that this Max Baker cannot be the Guardian.  You know that the markings were on the other child.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Gorthon said again.

Ausiris spun around and walked over to Gorthon.  He grabbed the beast by the neck and stood him up.  Gorthon stood at least three feet taller than Ausiris, but he looked terrified as Ausiris pushed him against the wall.

“Do you do nothing but agree with me, General?” Ausiris thundered.

Gorthon did not answer.  Max thought it was strange that a creature so huge was scared of the much smaller man in front of him.  The creature’s eyes darted around the room, refusing to look Ausiris in the face. 

“Tell Elder Darthoor to speed up the tests.  Have him and Elder Baxter push the Council on the issue.  Perhaps he only shares traits of the true Guardian.”

“Max!” a voice yelled from far behind him. 

Ausiris removed his hand from around Gorthon’s massive throat as they both turned toward the direction of the scream.  Max ducked down, afraid that he would be spotted.

“Did you hear that?” Ausiris asked.

Gorthon answered the old man by unsheathing the massive blade that hung from his back.  Max could see the gruesome blood covered steel, and it made his stomach turn.

“Max!” the voice screamed again, this time closer.

Gorthon sniffed the air wildly.

“What is it?” Ausiris asked.

“The boy is here.”

* * *

Max was pulled away from the room in the castle.  He opened his eyes to find a sea of nothingness.  He floated weightlessly through the dark.  Far off in the distance, he heard someone call his name again. 

In the back of his mind, Max knew that his best friend and the girl of his dreams were hovering over his lifeless body with some weirdo who claimed that Max was meant to save the universe.  He also knew that, on the other side of the universe, some scary demon and some archaic man were plotting his demise.  Somewhere far away, Max heard his name again.

“Max,” it was Kennedy’s voice.

Max wasn’t quite ready to rejoin with his body as he continued to slowly drift through the eternal darkness.  He was safe here.  Here he was not the chosen one, or the Guardian.  Max didn’t even know what he was supposed to be guarding.  How bad off was the universe if it had put all of its faith in the hands of a 16 year old boy?  What a desperate state it must be in to use a lifeline on some dejected, loser kid.  Floating there, Max wondered if they had gotten him confused with Corey Peterson.

“Max!” It was closer now.  Louder.

Max felt his body descending downwards.  He was freefalling slowly back to reality.  Soon he would be knee deep in all of the craziness again.  He would be dealing with the reality that he would never return to
his
reality again.  He would be dealing with the fact that
this
madness was his new reality. 

“Max,” Kennedy said as Max’s eyes slowly fluttered open.

“He’s back,” Noah said, jumping to his feet and running to Max’s side.

Out of the haze and the fog that swirled around Max’s eyes, he was able to make out Noah and Kennedy at his side and Donovan making notes on a clipboard at the foot of the bed.

“How are you feeling, buddy?” Noah asked.

“I’m okay…I think,” Max said.  He felt strange.  An indistinguishable feeling of energy was coursing throughout his body.  His body felt warm despite the cold metal table beneath him.  He felt the energy flowing through his veins and arteries.  He felt it pump through his brain and through his heart.  He felt all of his nerves tingling.  He felt charged like he had shuffled across a carpeted room wearing socks.  He felt powerful.

“Do you feel any different?” Donovan asked.

“A little,” Max said. 

“That is normal,” Donovan said.  He made another note on his clipboard.

“I had a dream.”

“That’s impossible,” Donovan said, lowering the clipboard.

“Obviously not,” Max said.  He recounted the details of the dream.

“Max, that was not a dream,” Donovan said.  “After rerouting your brain, you must have subconsciously transported yourself to Arressnia.” 

“That doesn’t seem logical,” Kennedy said.

“How so?” Donovan asked.

“Well, he didn’t disappear off the table, did he?” Kennedy asked.  “If he teleported across the galaxy, then he must have frozen time as well.”

Donovan banged the pen he was holding against his forehead; the man looked like he was trying to figure out an extremely hard math equation.

“Can he really do all that stuff?” Noah asked.

“Teleport, yes,” Donovan said.  “I have never heard of anyone who could stop time though.”

“Holy crap,” Noah said, “he made you into a magician.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Max said.

“Max, if this is true, then we cannot afford to waste any more time,” Donovan said.  “Take a moment and collect yourself, and then meet me in the room across the hall.  We have a lot of work to do.”

“Don’t you think he should take it easy?” Kennedy asked.  “I mean, he was…you know…”

“Dead,” Noah said.

“Be sensitive,” Kennedy snapped.

“What does that even mean?” Noah asked.

“He was only dead for a few minutes,” Donovan said, heading to the door. “And a short few minutes at that.”

“20 minutes,” Noah called at Donovan, “does not constitute a short few minutes!”

The door swung shut behind Donovan.

“Seriously, are you okay?” Kennedy asked. She grabbed Max’s hand.  He felt the energy surge through his body.  He could feel every cell of her hand pressed against his.

“I’m fine,” Max said, looking into her eyes.

“He’s more than fine,” Noah said. “He just became a superhero.”