The Sphere (The Magi Series #2) (9 page)

The second stop was out in the middle of nowhere.  The train
was delayed maybe five minutes.  Elijah thought it only stopped to release one
of the cars or hook on another one because he felt a few jolts and hitches
before it quickly started up again.

The entire ride was so noisy that he and Uncle Stan had to
shout to each other in small commands or requests like “Pass the canteen” or
“Would you like something to eat?”  Still, just getting to spend time with his
uncle, no matter how little he got to talk with him, was satisfying.

Elijah slept better the second night.  When he woke up, he
noticed the lightened sky through the window, revealing a glow on the horizon
as the sun inched toward the sky.  Elijah sat up and looked around.  The trees
were nowhere to be seen.  He looked down to see they were riding on a bridge,
over a deep valley covered in rock.  Toward the west, Elijah could see the
ocean, but that was the only land marker he could spot.  Everywhere else looked
dead and uninhabitable.  He was reminded of an old ghost town without the town.

As the train slowed, it approached a small station and ended
with a jolt to his car that Elijah heard continuing down the length of the
freight train.  Uncle Stan was still asleep.  Elijah wondered if he was going
to have to pour water on his head.

Without warning, the door to his car flew open.  Elijah dove
behind his crate of onions.

“Elijah Hawk,” a booming voice called from the door.  It was
a statement more than a question, like a teacher taking roll.  Finally, from
beneath the fortress of onions Uncle Stan had built, Elijah heard a groan and
rustling.

“Is that you, Bronco?” Uncle Stan asked in the most
nonchalant voice imaginable.  Elijah was shaking.

The man at the door of the car was massive.  He only grunted
and stepped aside for Elijah and Uncle Stan to exit the train.  It was hard to
see the man’s face because the light from the rising sun behind him was so
bright.  Only his silhouette was visible.

Uncle Stan and the massive man acknowledged each other.

“Everything okay?” Uncle Stan asked the man.

Another grunt.

“Elijah, you walk with Bronco.  I need to take care of
something.  I’ll be right back.”  Uncle Stan left Elijah with Bronco.  Elijah
took a good look at his companion now that he could see his face.  Bronco had a
thick head of jet black hair and hazel eyes.  From the way he was built, Elijah
couldn’t decide if this man or the freight train would win in a fight.  Bronco
said nothing, only walked toward the front of the train.

As they walked away, a train inspector, who looked like a
small terrier compared to Elijah’s usher, jogged after them.

“Excuse me.  Hey!  Sirs!  What are you doing?!?  You can’t
be in there!  Hey!”  Elijah’s escort ignored the inspector and continued
walking toward the engine.  “I said you can’t be in there!  STOP NOW!”

Bronco held out his hand, and Elijah felt a gust of wind
rush by him.  The inspector was suddenly pushed off his balance and thrown back
against the side of the train, unconscious.  The large man looked at Elijah and
uttered his first words.  “If anyone asks, he fell on his own.”

Even though it was early morning, there were no birds singing. 
There were no bees humming.  It was as silent as a graveyard.  They could only
hear the dirt crunching beneath their shoes.

The man ushered Elijah into the valley, which wasn’t as deep
as it was where the train stopped.  The slope was not incredibly steep, but it
was slippery with loose rocks.  Elijah fell twice.  They neared a pile of
boulders and Elijah saw a black four-wheel jeep with two men leaning against
it.  One was Uncle Stan.

“Sorry about that, Elijah,” his uncle said.  “Had to make
sure we were all clear.  Marshal stuff.”  Elijah looked at Bronco and the other
man next to Uncle Stan.  “Elijah, this is my team.  That’s Bronco.”  Elijah
thought that was a perfect name for him.  “And that’s Greg.”  Uncle Stan
pointed to the other man, not quite as bulky as Bronco but still very large. 
He had a shaved head and a blonde goatee.  He wore sunglasses that made him
look almost like a businessman, only without the suit and tie.  Elijah thought
that was funny since he pictured these men doing things that a businessman
wouldn’t dream of doing.

Bronco leaped into the driver’s seat of the jeep and Greg
took the passenger seat.  Elijah slipped in behind Greg, and Uncle Stan worked
his long legs in behind Bronco.  Elijah wondered how Uncle Stan could stand
sitting in the back because his own legs were practically behind his ears, and
Uncle Stan was taller.

“Where are we going?” Elijah asked.

“To the base,” said Uncle Stan as Bronco roared the engine. 
“It’ll be late before we get there, so we’ll stay there ‘til morning.  We’ll
get a good meal and relax, and then we’ll spend tomorrow planning what you’re
gonna do.”

The jeep flew along a dirt road for hours until they came to
a small town, not unlike the one in which Elijah’s parents used to live.  On
the outskirts of this town, around a bend and up a small hill were two houses,
apart from the others but still in the community.  A few plants and trees
separated the two houses, and next to one of the houses was a modest shed. 
Tall oak trees and wild brush grew all around the land surrounding the area. 
It was a perfect hideout.

Even though the sun was setting, it was hot.  It had been a
long time since Elijah last felt heat like this.  The armpits of each of the
men were drenched in sweat, and they frequently passed around canteens of
water.  The jeep rolled across the gravel road leading up to the houses and
stopped right in front where a few other cars were scattered.  Bronco and Greg
got out of the jeep to let Uncle Stan and Elijah out.  Elijah stretched and yawned
to get the blood flowing to his body again.

Bronco and Greg kicked their boots to get rid of the dust
and went immediately into the house.  Uncle Stan stayed back to give Elijah the
tour.

“This is our hideout,” he began.  “My team and another team
from our region live here.”

“You mean Region 2?”

“Yeah.  We move now and then, but so far, the Maliphists
haven’t caught on to us here.  But they will.  It’s only a matter of time.”  He
pointed to the shed.  “That’s where we receive all our communication.  You
wanna see?”

Elijah nodded enthusiastically.  He didn’t know why he was
so excited, but the idea of secret communication was just too irresistible. 
Uncle Stan walked to the shed, looked behind him, and opened it.  The inside
looked like an old telegraph office.  A man wearing an old set of headphones in
the very back took them off slightly and glanced over his shoulder.  When he saw
Stan, he turned back around and put the headphones back on.  He began to tap on
the telegraph module using old Morse code, then jotted some things down on a
piece of paper.  The walls reminded Elijah of Olivia’s office, only the maps
and drawings on these walls had nothing to do with the sphere.  There was a map
of North America divided into the different regions and a larger map of just
Region 2 with markings and circles drawn on it.  Then there were other maps and
pictures that Elijah couldn’t make sense of.

“This is where our orders come when the elders have a job
for us to do.  This is also how we communicate with the other marshals.  We’re
low-tech—stayin’ behind the current times, obviously.”  He smiled.  “We’re not
above sending pigeons or notes in a bottle if we have to.”

“So what happens if the Maliphists figure out where you’re
staying?” Elijah asked.

“We destroy everything and move,” Uncle Stan said.  Everything’s
set up in case we need to bolt in a pinch.  It wouldn’t take more than ten
minutes for us to clear outta here now.  We’d take only what we needed and burn
the rest.”

Elijah looked at the houses.  “So this is where you live
now.”

“Yup.  Think of it like going to camp, but instead of
building crafts to call birds, we try to keep from getting murdered.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Actually, it’s a blast!  You’d make a good marshal one day,
Eli.”

“I was kidding.”

“
I
wasn’t.  You should totally think about it.”

Elijah chuckled.  “Do you always stick with your team?”

“No,” said Uncle Stan.  “In fact, we mostly go alone.  My
team always knows where I am, and they usually know if somethin’ goes wrong,
but it’s rare that we all go on a call together.”

“So, when you were caught last year, did your team know
about it?”

“I wasn’t a part of a team until I left Savenridge this
summer.  I was completely on my own then, remember?”

Elijah nodded.  Last year, when Uncle Stan told Elijah that
he was a marshal in secret, he explained that he had to stay on his own so the
Maliphists wouldn’t trace Elijah’s parents.  Unfortunately, that didn’t work,
and the Maliphists found them anyway.

Uncle Stan guided Elijah behind the houses and showed him
the hill that went from the property to the rest of town.  One of the marshals
was busy hitting golf balls off the hill and into the trees below.  Another
marshal was carrying a wheelbarrow full of dirt toward a vegetable garden
between the houses.  Elijah chuckled to himself.  Clearly, they were fighting
for their lives.

Elijah and Uncle Stan washed up for dinner.  Apparently, it
was Bronco’s turn on the cooking rotation.  He served up thick steaks with rice
and a green salad as a side.  Elijah bit his tongue when he saw Bronco’s thick
muscles bulging out of the laced apron he wore as he cooked.

Six marshals and Elijah sat down at the dinner table to
eat.  They all looked the same.  Thick, powerful, and unshaven.  One of the
men, the shortest of the bunch named Alfie, took a big bite of his steak and
with his mouth full of meat began a conversation.  He had a thick drawl and a
voice that sounded like a frog that had gotten a cold.

“Okay Stan, I have your order down.  How long will you be
out?” he asked, writing on a piece of paper.

“A few days maybe,” Uncle Stan said.  He winked at Elijah.

“Greg?”

“I’ll take the disturbance by the coast,” Greg replied. 
“I’ve already checked into it, and it doesn’t sound like Maliphist activity,
but I’d like to double check to be safe.”

Alfie took another mouthful of steak and recorded Greg’s
response.

“Ken?”

“I’ve got nothing,” Ken replied.

“Okay,” said Alfie.  “Six hundred miles north of here, one
of our boys in the bay area is checking out a fire that almost took out their
base.  We also have a missing child not too far from there.  Take one.”

“I’ll take the missing child,” Ken said.

“Okay,” Alfie stated.  “Then Bronco, why don’t you take the
fire.”

Bronco grunted.

“I think that does it for today.  There’s nothing else that
came in.”  Alfie picked up the rest of his steak with his fingers and began to
eat it like a hamburger.  Elijah felt awkward next to all the marshals.  He was
glad they were on his side because there wasn’t a person in the group he ever
wanted to tangle with.

The following morning, Uncle Stan woke Elijah before the sun
lit up the sky.  Elijah briefly forgot where he was as his uncle shook him
awake, but after coming to and glancing around at his surroundings, he
remembered.  He took a quick shower and met his uncle in the front room.

“So what is it you need to do?” Uncle Stan asked in a half
whisper.

“I need to get those boxes that belonged to my parents,”
Elijah answered.  “The ones we put in storage last year.  Is it still there?”

Uncle Stan scratched at the stubble on his chin.  “Yes, it
should be.  Although, there might be a problem getting it.”

“Why?”

“Because the key to the unit is still at my old house, and
I’m sure the house is being tracked by now,” Uncle Stan said.

“By the Maliphists?”

“Gotta love those guys.”

“Is there another way to get into the storage place?”

“Sure there is.  We can hijack a bulldozer, use it to
flatten the guard shack and the rest of the building, and then dig through the
rubble for the boxes.”

Elijah rolled his eyes.  “Funny.”

“I think the most inconspicuous way is to do it with the
key, assuming we’re still able to get it.”

“So we just need a way to get into the house,” Elijah said.

“Oh, we can get into the house all right.  But gettin’ in
unnoticed is the key—pardon the pun.”  Uncle Stan walked into the kitchen and began
to brew a pot of coffee.

Everything in the house, the marshals included, seemed as
normal as any other house in the common world.  They drove jeeps, wore common
people clothes, and except for the telegraph machines in the shed, they even
had the same gadgets like televisions and walkie-talkies and radios.  Elijah
had gotten so used to the simple lifestyle in Savenridge that modern technology
seemed so overwhelming and busy to him now.  He wondered how he could have ever
thought that living with so much distraction would be comforting, and yet, he
remembered a time when he would have considered it absurd to live any other way.

Uncle Stan walked back with two mugs of coffee and gave one
to Elijah.  Elijah took a sip and immediately burned his tongue with the bitter
beverage.  He had never liked coffee much, especially black, the way his uncle
prepared it.  He loved the smell and liked the idea of drinking a warm beverage
in the morning, but he much preferred the sweet ciders prepared in Savenridge.

Uncle Stan continued to scratch his face.  “I would say your
best shot at getting the key would be to wait until tonight, just before dawn. 
We’ll need to get into position at dusk to make our move.  By dawn, anyone
watching’ll be tired.  Maybe we can catch ‘em sleepin’ on the job.  Plus moving
shadows are normal for that time of day, so if they did actually see something,
it would be easy to disregard it.”