Renegade Rising (The Renegade Series) (17 page)

“This cut will soon be a permanent scar. May it always remind you of what you swore to do this day and that yes, you do have what it takes. I welcome you into the fold and present to you all . . . Renega Gisbo Falcon!” Falcon took off Gisbo’s old tattered headband with a flourish and replaced it with the official Renega headgear. With a strong hoisting motion, he lifted Gisbo to his feet, raising his fist to the sky, as they were met with hoots and hollers from the crowd. Gisbo tried to smile, but really couldn’t as he found himself jumping from the stage, mouthfuls of puke spraying everywhere. Surprisingly enough, even louder applause and laughter followed this.

Ranto just glared, arms folded with hate in his eyes.

Chapter Seven
:
The New Companion

Gisbo was still hunched over in the bushes trying to calm his self-abused stomach. While he emptied it of his many lunches, the ceremony continued and the others became official Renegas. People were now clearing out and slapped Gisbo on the back as they made their exit in recognition of his triumph . . . if you could call it that. The smacking didn’t feel all that great, but indeed helped along the process. Rolce caught up to him just as he finished with what he believed to be his final upchuck. He was afraid his lungs might be ejected too if he continued.

“I’ll be honest. I don’t really know what to say to you right now, so I’ll just stick with the obvious. How you feeling?” asked Rolce with an amused grin.

“Pretty hungry, actually. I think my stomach's empty . . .” Gisbo said as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

“Doesn’t surprise me. It’s a good thing one of us was in there paying attention. Check these babies out, one for each of us!” Rolce said as he tossed Gisbo a golden key. Gisbo stared at it curiously.

“The hell’s this for?” Gisbo asked.

“These are our room keys. Me and you are bunking it, buddy. Can you believe this? Our own room!” Rolce exclaimed. For Rolce, having his own room was an amazing concept. All he had had prior to this was a barn floor. Gisbo at least had his own space, even if it was a shack. Even so, looking at Rolce’s face made Gisbo excited too. Just by examining the design of the key, Gisbo assumed it was going to be one nice place.

“Well, let's get goin'!” Gisbo shouted excitedly. Rolce opened a small map of Heaven’s Shelter that had been given to him by Moordin. In the midst of the trees north of them, a place was marked with a red X.

“This way!” Rolce said as he walked toward the forest. Gisbo followed.

The boys marched beside each other with uneasiness as bears, tigers and other dangerous predators eyed them suspiciously. It was only after taking a wrong turn through thorny underbrush and falling into a disguised swamp that they made it to their new living quarters. Gisbo and Rolce couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear as they set eyes on their new home.

“It’s perfect!” Rolce exclaimed.

Before them stood a large tree house which seemed to be composed of oak, palm leaves, stones and bamboo. A large set of stairs spiraled around the trunk of the giant oak up to their new front doorway, beckoning them to run up as fast as they could. Rolce reached the top first and stood on the suspended porch where three rocking chairs were placed to the right and left of the doorway. A big stone barbecue grill was built into the edge of the porch along with a small table. A slanted roof with small slits that could be opened or closed to allow sunlight through protected all this.

If the porch was this nice, Gisbo couldn’t help but wonder how the inside would appear. He thrust his key into the lock, unlocked it and plunged inside with Rolce following close behind. The first thing they saw when they entered were three comfortable beds set up in a strange configuration like a three-way bunk bed in a V shape. One bed was at the bottom, in the crest of the V, while the two others sat atop each slant to the left and right with two ladders beneath them. From there, the boys' eyes wandered to a large wooden table in the center of the room giving off the clean, comforting scent of cedar. A disengaged fireplace was directly across from the table, ready to burn if it ever got cold.

Gisbo had never known the privilege of using either for such amenities were considered set apart for royalty. Rolce didn’t even know what they were and they spent the next several minutes marveling at the convenience of it all. The cleansing room was especially fascinating. Fresh, clean water seemed to magically flow from the ceiling, wash whatever was needed and then instantly suck the water back, drying all it had touched. The waste shoots worked the same way. It beat doing their business in the woods by a long shot.

So many features of their new home amazed Gisbo, who would never take them for granted. It seemed small holes in the roofs would open and close from time to time to filter in fresh smells from outdoors, always keeping their dwelling smelling of fragrant flowers and honeysuckle.

The boys didn’t waste any time as they quickly changed out of their ratty clothes into their Berserker and Nazarite attire. After they were fully garbed, Gisbo marveled at how his new suit felt on him. At this stage, he and Rolce looked very similar, sporting the same ponchos with scarves attached, headbands and even the same color schemes. The difference lay underneath their ponchos. Where Gisbo’s outfit had baggy pants, heavy boots and various protective additions like knee pads and a thick leather belt, Rolce’s looked like a low-hanging robe with various pockets.

“Lookin' good, Rolce Moordin, Renega, Nazarite Class, um . . . no notch,” Gisbo said with a sarcastic smile. His imitation of Moordin was nearly perfect. Rolce laughed. Both of them stared into the mirrors at themselves, in awe that just a few hours ago they were going about their pointless lives only to be plucked out of them and thrust into something far bigger than themselves. The feeling was amazing.

Gisbo then noticed something at the far wall that made his heart skip. A rather large bookshelf leaned against the wall, beckoning him. How could he not have noticed it before! He almost knocked Rolce over as he ran for it, running his finger along the spine of each book, reading the titles.
Renegades: A History;
Renega to Renegara
,
The Narrow Path;
Nazarite Pocket Guide . . .

“Look at all these babies, I’m gonna read 'em all! Well, except for some of these. They look like lousy textbooks.
Battles by the Math
? Really? Who needs that garbage in a place like this?” Gisbo said, as he tossed the book over his shoulder and let it bounce across the floor. Rolce’s eyes lit up at the word “textbooks” however and he rushed to retrieve the tossed book.

“How can you believe for a second the Renegades don’t use mathematical theories for battle plans? Not everyone just rushes into things without planning you know. Numbers and calculations are everything!” Rolce refuted as he picked up one of the battle strategy books, flipping through the pages.

“Look at this one! Wow! I used to read this series back at Oak County! I can’t believe they have the
Man-Angel
books here! You ever read these, Rolce?” Gisbo asked as he plucked the book from the shelf.

“Can’t say I’ve enjoyed them. I do love fiction, but not crazy stuff like that. Please, a guy with golden wings in a tight suit who flies around a mystical place called Boston, Massachusetts? Come on. Plus, they have a lot of bad words in them,” Rolce stated. Gisbo’s face contorted.

“What? Everyone loves Man-Angel! He’s the greatest. And the bad guys have powers too, not just him. He’s a super hero! And Boston sounds like such a cool place. They got towers there as high as the clouds and all the regular people don’t have any powers. I can’t even imagine living somewhere like that,” Gisbo argued.

“Exactly! It’s bogus! The term ‘Super hero’ sounds so cliché too. What’s next? Super villains? Bleh, but you go ahead and have fun,” Rolce said, grabbing a few more books.

“Psh, your loss. I better not hear you talk crap about Man-Angel again, Rolce. Don’t be jealous that I have a soul and you don’t,” Gisbo said as he made his way towards the V-bed.

Rolce sighed loudly and followed Gisbo.

“I call top bunk!” Gisbo announced as he hoisted himself up on the top right bed. Rolce shook his head and walked over with a sigh, still flipping through the pages of his book.

“There’s two top bunks, dummy. Books like Man-Angel will melt your brain. You should be reading this one,” Rolce said, flashing the math book as he climbed into his own bed. Once comfortable however, they couldn’t help looking downward at the empty bed. Their happiness suddenly lingered in the air, suspended. They almost felt a little guilty.

“What do you think happened? I mean, there’s supposed to be one more with us. I noticed out of all the new Renega synergies we are the only team with one missing,” Rolce pointed out, a little disgruntled.

“I don’t know. Falcon didn’t want us to hear about it, that’s for sure. I’m just as lost as you. I did hear him say he was ‘intercepted’ and that they arrived a week early because of suspicions,” Gisbo said, thinking.

“Yeah, he did. He was Foxblade’s chosen subordinate too from what I gathered. Chosen . . . so that means that Falcon chose you and Moordin chose me? I mean, I should be kind of upset with a bunch of people messing with my life, but it really didn’t even cross my mind until now. Thinking about it, I’m actually pretty thankful. It still hasn’t hit me that this wonderful place is our new home,” Rolce said.

“Hell, I don’t care. I’m just pissed they left us in that hell hole called Oak County. I guess they did that so we would appreciate this place all the more. A guy could get spoiled living in a place like this,” Gisbo said, still looking at the empty bed. “To think there’s some other poor guy out there, just like us, who could be enjoying all this with us. I wonder what happened.”

“From Falcon’s reaction earlier, he was deeply upset by it all. Somebody or something took him. I can imagine Foxblade’s disappointment; so much planning over fifteen years, only to be snatched away. I wonder if his life was just as lousy as ours? It must have been. It is part of the process after all. Everyone had to go through it, right? Rolce Moordin . . . Renegade born, who woulda thought?” Rolce said with a haphazard smile.

“I don’t know about you, but I can’t stand the fact there is somebody else out there, not here where he belongs. Makes me sick inside just thinking about it. Whatever took him definitely isn’t good news,” Gisbo said with a clenched fist.

“I’m with ya, we’ll figure this out together and . . . hey, what do you think that is?” Rolce asked, as he pointed to an odd contraption on the large table. They both jumped out of their beds and rushed to it. It certainly was peculiar. It looked like a kind of long steel spike accompanied by a pile of golden disk shapes. Gisbo picked up one and on the surface it read, “Phoenix Force.” He looked at Rolce and shrugged. Rolce picked up a few, eyeballing them as well.

“Hmmm . . . look at these names: 'Metallican Sonata,' 'Slay Knot,' 'J-Cashin?' Wonder what they do?” Rolce said, holding the disk up to the light. Gisbo slipped the disk titled “Phoenix Force” onto the needle and watched it slide to the bottom. Suddenly, the disc rose up, spinning fast, and the entire thing glowed a golden yellow, filling the room around them with booming music. To Gisbo it sounded absolutely wonderful; the vocal line was fast and aggressive as the shredding sounds of metal filled the air.

“Wow! I can’t believe this! Music concentrated onto a gleaming disk. The yellow is obviously a Sorian’s trademark color. I bet they somehow figured out how to record music this way allowing for instant playback. It’s like a personal band is in our room. Amazing!” Rolce was highly impressed by the new technology. “However, this stuff sounds crazy. I’ve never heard anything so fast. I wonder what . . .”

“That, my friend, is called, ‘METAL,’ Moordin said as the boys turned to find their new Class Masters gazing at them from behind, where the door stood wide open.

“A personal favorite of Moordin’s and mine. Looks like the both of you enjoy it as well. That band, Phoenix Force, is a wonder. A Soarian band founded right here in Heaven’s Shelter. They come and play live for us every once in a while, glorious stuff! Foxblade, on the other hand, doesn’t agree. A serious bloke, into the more depressing varieties,” Falcon explained.

Gisbo noticed Moordin was looking a bit embarrassed by his sudden outburst. Never in his life would he have imagined a guy as reserved as Moordin listening to something so crazy.

“Hey, whose Man-Angel books are those on the shelf?” Gisbo asked. Moordin and Falcon looked at each other and smiled.

“Why, both of ours,” Falcon said. Gisbo smiled as he spun on Rolce.

“See Rolce! Told you everybody loves Man-Angel!” Gisbo said, thrusting a finger at his face.

“Foxblade doesn’t. He loathes anything to do with fiction.” Moordin chimed in.

“No, no! I like fiction and stuff like that! I just don’t like Man-Angel!” Rolce tried to argue. Moordin shook his head.

“Maybe you aren’t my subordinate after all. Are you sure you got the right boy, Falcon?” Moordin asked. Falcon forced back a chuckle at Rolce’s white face.

“Please! No! I am a Renegade! Don’t take me back!” Rolce pleaded.