Max Baker: Guardian of the Ninth Sector (9 page)

The man in black sneered at the tall man and then approached the bassinet.  With his old, scaly hands, he lifted Aiden out of the bed and held him high into the air.  Aiden cried softly from his blanket.

“Put him down,” Max demanded, but no one acknowledged him.  This was not an event that Max could change.

“Mark this night,” the man in black said excitedly, “as the night that we claim victory.”

Max watched as the three of them smiled up at the child.

“Go and tell the parents,” the man in black commanded, taking the child and placing Aiden on a table in the far corner of the room.  The tall man and stout woman nodded and headed back toward the room that they had come through.  Max tried to approach the man in black and Aiden, but he found that he couldn’t move any closer.  It was as if an invisible force field was preventing him from seeing what would happen next.

The bloodcurdling scream that came from Aiden should have been enough to wake him up, but it wasn’t.  Max tried desperately to move forward to rush to his brother’s aid, but the force field restrained him.  He heard the small child cry out again.  Behind him, he heard Evelyn scream from the other room. 

Max spun around in the direction of his mother and was greeted by Gorthon who snarled as he towered over him.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Gorthon roared.  Max panicked and stood frozen as if his feet had become rooted to the stone floor. Gorthon pulled a large blade from the sheath at his hip and lifted overhead.  Max tried to run, but saw his fate as the blade lowered quickly toward him.

* * *

Max’s eyes opened to darkness, and he quickly groped around.  The entire mattress was damp with his sweat.  The clock in the corner of the room read 5:50 in bright green digital numbers. 

Max jumped down from the top bunk as quietly as he could and headed to the bathroom.  He closed the door behind him and turned on the sink. He splashed his face repeatedly with cold water to ensure that he was awake.  He didn’t know what was happening to him, but he knew that whatever it was, it was more than just a dream.  Whatever was happening was dangerous.

As he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, he saw that his blue eyes looked dull.  They no longer shone with the joy and happiness of a young boy who had his life ahead of him.  They looked more like a soldier who had just been returned after a lifetime of war.  They looked sad and haunted.

He made his way back to the dimly lit bedroom.  Noah was still snoring softly in the lower bunk.

Max quietly grabbed his shirt that was crumpled up at the foot of the bed and slipped it on.  Maybe a breath of fresh air would help, he thought, making his way out of the bedroom toward the back door of the house.

The December air blew cold against his still sweaty body as he quietly closed the door behind him.  His shirt clung to him and provided little comfort against the frigid air swirling around him.  Max made his way from the backyard, up the hill and into the front yard.  As he reached the top of the hill, Max froze in his footsteps.  Parked in front of the house was the large black sedan. The mysterious man stared at him from behind the wheel.

Instead of chasing Max, the car’s engine roared to life and slowly the car began to pull away.  Max’s fears had been replaced with an anger and frustration that overwhelmed him. The mystery man was no longer terrifying; instead he had become more of an annoyance than anything else.  He was the last straw.  Max could handle the night terrors and his drunken mother.  He could handle being called out in front of the entire class for drooling over the girl of his dreams.  But he drew the line at creepy men lurking after him in the middle of the night. 

Max ran the rest of the way to the street to confront his pursuer, but the car had already managed to get some distance between them.  Max threw his hands into the air as the car continued to speed away from him. 

“What do you want from me?!” Max screamed after the car. 

The vehicle rounded the corner and drove out of sight.  Max stood in the middle of the street for a long time afterward, waiting for the car to return.

Later that morning, Max and Noah walked down Sycamore Drive, headed toward the library.  Noah wasn’t a part of Max and Kennedy’s English project, so Max wasn’t sure why he was tagging along, but he welcomed the company.

“So that dude that chased you all around the neighborhood the other night was sitting in front of
my
house this morning?” Noah asked.

“Yeah, but he took off before I could get up the hill.”

“Well, he’s lucky it was you and not me that caught him.”

Max looked at Noah waiting to hear his reasoning behind this.  Noah had always shied away from any sort of confrontation.  He had developed a silver tongue earlier on in life and was usually able to talk his way out of any playground beat downs. When talking failed, he generally ran away or cowered behind Max.

“And what exactly would you have done that I didn’t, Captain Courageous?”

“I’m just saying…” Noah trailed off.

“I tried to get a look at his license plate, but there wasn’t one,” Max said as they rounded the corner onto Twin Oaks Boulevard.

“That’s shady, Max,” Noah said, his eyes wider than normal.  “He’s probably some child molester that just moved into town.  Or an ax murderer or something.”

“Real shady,” Max agreed.

There was a long pause, and Max could see Noah’s mind running a million miles an hour.

“You think he’s like an FBI agent, and you’ve been mixed up with the leader of an international terrorist cell?”

“No,” Max said.  “I don’t think that’s it at all.”

“What about an NSA agent and someone has planted some top secret, sensitive material on you?”

“No.”

“What if it’s you,” Noah rambled on without missing a beat.  “Not present day you obviously, but you in like 15 years or something.  And you’ve been sent back in time to protect yourself from evil robots or aliens.”

“He didn’t look anything like me,” Max responded, rolling his eyes.

“So…we’re settling on child molester then?”

“For the time being,” Max said.

There was another long pause as the library came into view over the horizon.

“What if…”

“Shut up, Noah.”

* * *

The library was fairly empty for a Saturday morning.  Forest Valley was a small town and didn’t have much in the way of entertainment for the youth, so the library was normally jammed packed with little kids on the weekends. 
It's still pretty early though,
Max thought, scanning the library for Kennedy. 

There was a small group of kids playing in the children’s section.  A group of tired looking parents was also in the children’s section, chasing them around and trying to keep them quiet.  Max saw a couple of people wandering through the aisles of fiction.  In the corner of the room, an elderly man sat at one of the public computer stations playing solitaire. 

The librarian, Mrs. Kane, sat behind a large mahogany desk observing the room.  She glanced over toward Max and Noah, scrunched up her face and then turned her attention back toward the unruly children.

Kennedy sat at a table in the center of the library.  She had her black hair pulled back in a ponytail and was sporting her old black framed glasses that Max liked so much.  She was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and a pair of worn blue jeans that had holes in the knees.  Max wondered if she was dressing for comfort or so she wouldn’t be recognized.

She sat surrounded by a large stack of books and a couple of spiral notebooks.  When they were younger, she had always been the studious type, but it wasn’t something Max really found synonymous with her personality these days.  Of course what did he know…she could have been an all ‘A’ student, and Max would have no idea.  

“How long have you been here?” Max asked her as they approached the table.

“About half an hour,” Kennedy said, looking up to make eye contact with Max.  She was wearing a half-smile that quickly faded when she saw Noah standing beside him.  She looked down toward her notebook, and Max could see her cheeks turning red.  “What is
he
doing here?”  She motioned to Noah with the tip of her pencil and then went back to writing in her notebook.

“I felt like getting the band back together, Kenster,” Noah said, dropping down into the tall wooden chair beside her.

“Do not call me that,” Kennedy said without looking up.

Max hung his backpack on the chair opposite of her and then sat down.  He couldn’t help but smile awkwardly.  Butterflies were fluttering rapidly through his stomach.  His heart was skipping beats.  His pulse had quickened, and he felt jittery.  This was the first time the three of them had been together in years.  He had missed her so much.

Kennedy looked up from her notebook and surveyed the two.  She bitterly sighed.  A few of Max’s butterflies withered and fell to the bottom of his stomach, but he was determined not to let it dissuade him.  Sure, it would take a few moments for everyone to re-adapt to one another, but they had been friends for years before.  Surely, there was still something left.

“Look,” she said, directing her venom toward Max, “I want to get this over with as quickly as possible.  So, if he’s not here to help, then he needs to leave.  The last thing I want to do is waste my Saturday babysitting you and your mentally challenged friend.” Kennedy turned her glare toward Noah.  “Do you both understand?”

“Who do you think you are?” Max snapped at her. He was livid.  He felt the rest of the fluttering butterflies in his stomach drop dead.  As much as he liked Kennedy, and as excited as he was about this opportunity, he would not sit here and let her treat his best friend like garbage.

“I got this,” Noah said to Max. He turned toward Kennedy.  “Who the
hell
do you think you are?”

She looked at Noah, an expression of being half shocked and half-appalled coated her face.

“Who the hell do you think
YOU
are, Allman?” she hissed back at him.

“I’m just here to make sure you two act civil,” Noah snapped at her.

“Oh?” Kennedy said, throwing her pencil down and pointing at Noah. “Now you’re the mediator?  Correct me if I’m wrong, but last time we spoke you rambled on for a good 20 minutes, telling me how much of an awful person I was and that you wished you had never met me.”

“Wait, what?” Max asked. 

“And those sentiments haven’t changed a bit, sweetheart,” Noah said, raising his voice.

“Call me a name other than my own again,” she said, picking her pencil back up. “I will stab you to death where you sit.”

“Oh the cheerleader’s going to stab me,” Noah said.  “I’m so scared Max.  I’m beside myself really.”

The librarian hushed the group from her seat behind her desk.  Max turned and acknowledged the ancient woman by giving her a thumbs up. He turned his attention back to Kennedy.

“That’s it,” Kennedy said, packing up her belongings and standing up.  “I don’t care if I get an ‘F’ on this; it’s not worth putting up with either of you.”

“Wait,” Max said. “Noah’s offered to help.  He’s an extra pair of hands on a big project.  I didn’t think it would hurt.  I’m sorry I didn’t run it by you first.”

“Do not apologize to her,” Noah said, standing up, “I guarantee you that it’s absolutely pointless.”

“Screw you, Allman,” Kennedy said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. 

“Excuse me ladies and gentlemen,” a firm voice whispered from behind them.  “This is a library, not a reality show.”

The group turned to see the librarian standing behind them. She was wearing a nasty scowl upon her face.

“Sorry,” Max said.

“Don’t be sorry,” the librarian said through her pursed lips.  “Just be quiet.”  The old woman offered an unpleasant smile and then turned back toward her desk.

“Look,” Max pleaded, “we all used to be friends…”

“
Used to be
are the keywords there,” Kennedy sneered.

“You’re right,” Max said, his blood starting to boil.  “We all
used to be
friends.  Not just regular friends, best friends.  And I’m sure that if we try hard enough, we can make it through a couple hours of one another’s presence so we can hammer this project out and go back to ignoring each other.”

“Fine,” she huffed.  “Let’s just get this done.” 

They all sat back down. Kennedy picked up a large book from the top of the stack and handed it to Max.  She then passed another one to Noah, and the three of them sat there silently reading to themselves.  The tension was palpable.

“Now who doesn’t miss this?” Noah said to the two of them, breaking the long moment of awkward silence.  Neither Max nor Kennedy looked up from their books, and Noah buried his head in his hands and sighed deeply.

An hour had passed without anyone uttering as much as a sound.  Max had half been focused on the report and half focused on Kennedy, who hadn’t looked up from her notebook.  Noah had been asleep for the past half-hour. His head, still resting in his hands, would bob back and forth every couple of minutes.

Despite the attitude she had initially given, Max couldn’t help but think that he was blowing the opportunity that Mr. Shook had provided him.  He thought about what she had said.  Max didn’t know anything about a conversation between her and Noah.  As far as Max knew, the last time either of them had spoken to her was before her grandmother had died.

He sat there for a moment longer looking at her.  She had pulled her dark hair out of the pony tail holder and rested it over her shoulders.  Max could smell the wintergreen gum that she was chewing.  He remembered that it had been her favorite flavor since they were little.  Deep in his belly, he could feel the butterflies begin to slowly flap their wings.

“Why are you staring at me?” she asked without looking up.

Max looked back down at the book in front of him.  If this was the right time to capitalize on an opportunity, he certainly didn’t feel like he could go through with it.  Searching for the right words to say, he looked past her and out into space. 

“Kennedy,” Max started, but stopped himself.

Standing in the adult fiction aisle, directly behind Kennedy, was a man dressed in a long black trench coat.  He wore a black fedora pulled down over his brow.   He was holding a book and looked down at it when Max noticed him staring at the group. 

The black fedora reminded Max of the man from the dream, and he squinted to see if it was the same man.  The man with the book didn’t look like the man from the dream; his face was much younger, and Max couldn’t see any scars from where he was sitting.

“Noah,” Max said, tapping him on the shoulder.

“What?” Noah’s hoarse voice asked from the palms of his hand.

“Look,” Max said, motioning toward the man with the book.

“Who is that creepoid?” Noah asked, looking toward the man.

“I think that’s the guy that’s been following me.”