Forever Warriors

  FOREVER

  WARRIORS

  By

  M J Sewall

  Edited by Mindy T. Conde & Natalie McDermott of TheCrimsonQuill.com

  This book is fiction. Names, places, characters, anecdotes or situations are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to reality is coincidental.

  To contact the author, please visit:

  MJSewall.com

  COPYRIGHT © 2016. All Rights Reserved.

  No portion of this book may be used or reproduced without express written permission from the publisher.

  To my daughter, Chelsea.

  You’re a big reason I’m like this.

  Thanks for that.

  PROLOGUE - 2004 – SRI LANKA

  The sound of David’s chains broke the silence.

  The two brothers pulled David up the steep hill. The early morning sun was already hot, few people were out to notice the strangers.

  “Why couldn’t we use handcuffs?” asked Derek.

  Earnhardt spoke in his heavy German accent, “I don’t trust flimsy, modern handcuffs. Chains are better.”

  Earnhardt chained David to a tree at the top of the hill, overlooking a vast expanse of ocean. David didn’t resist. His back to the tree, facing the sea, he felt the weight of the heavy chains. The burden of the necklace they made him wear was worse. The cold, evil charm chaffed against his skin.

  David looked out to the Indian Ocean, marveling at the expanse of blue on blue. He forced his attention to the danger. I will never help them, he thought. At least she’s safe. He caught his own thought and buried it deep. Even stray thoughts were dangerous now.

  “Will it be high enough? Can we get out in time?” said Derek, combing fingers through his short blond hair. “So hot already. I think I’m sweating out my breakfast.”

  “I’ve told you to stop eating meat, it’s bad for you,” said Ehrhardt, wiping his sweaty hands on a handkerchief. He surveyed the area, “Yes, this will be high enough.”

  Derek rattled the chains, “You ready for this, Davy?”

  David winced at the nickname, as though we’re friends, he thought. David said, “You can hold me prisoner, but you can’t make me help you.”

  Ehrhardt said, “Wrong. You will help us. You forced this day by your defiance.”

  David leaned back harder against the tree, having no idea what would happen next. The tree offered little shade from the sun as David squinted his eyes at the spectacular view.

  Derek’s slender chest was still breathing heavily. He looked to his older brother, “How old is that body of yours this time? 35? How do you keep fit with just curry and rice?”

  Ehrhardt shook his head. “How old is your body? 23? You are panting like a dog because you don’t take care of yourself, meat eater.”

  “I’m a carnivore, I won’t apologize.” said Derek.

  “Barbarian.” spat his older brother.

  “Vegetarian!” Derek fired back.

  Ehrhardt went to the edge of the hill, scanning for the prime spot to begin.

  Derek came close to his brother, and whispered, “You sure you’re up to this brother? There are other ways to punish him. This is going to put you in bed for a week. There are less extreme ways.”

  “This will solve several problems, brother,” said Ehrhardt. He called to David, “Last chance.”

  David refused to meet his gaze. Ehrhardt shook his head, then peered out at the expanse. Directly in front of them was the wide Indian Ocean, to their left was the Sri Lankan coast. It was early, and only a few fishing boats were out on the water.

  Along the coast there was a mix of huts and luxury buildings. The modern was a backdrop to the past; crude, shanty structures stood at the foot of tall hotels and resorts. An elevated train track snaked along the coastline.

  David tried to ignore them, but Derek kept talking, “I’ll never get used to the new name Sri Lanka. I liked when they called it Ceylon. It had a pleasant flow on the tongue. They don’t even spell the name of their own country right. It should be spelled with an s-h sound. Shri Lanka, not Sri Lanka. What does it mean anyway?”

  Ehrhardt said, “It’s complicated, but ‘venerable island’ is about the closest…”

  “I really didn’t want to know that.” Derek shook his head. “How can you not get the hang of rhetorical questions by now? Hey, didn’t you have a battle here once?”

  “Yes. A few lifetimes ago. In the 1840s I battled an ancient in a sapphire mine. That Viking. I’m sure you remember him.”

  “Oh, yes.” Derek changed the subject back to the matter at hand, “This will be hard on you.”

  Ehrhardt was resolute. “I’ll pay the price. He must know the extent of what we can do. He’s the best finder we’ve ever had. He will obey us.”

  Derek nodded. They looked at David chained to the tree. He was watching the waves.

  Ehrhardt shouted. “I’m taking away your name. From now on we call you the Witness.”

  “Oooooh. Witness. I like that.” Derek said, “I think you may be growing an imagination after all these lifetimes, brother.”

  The Witness kept looking out, no emotion, his face a mask. But cold sweat ran down his back.

  Ehrhardt went to the edge of the hill, dropped to his knees and dug his hands into the grassy earth at his feet. He said some words that David didn’t understand, perhaps a mix of several languages. Ehrhardt kept repeating the same words over and over again, digging his fingers deeper into the warm earth.

  They all felt something. It seemed to come from all around, but the feeling hit David in the pit of his stomach. It was like they were on a train, used to the vibration on the tracks, then violently lurched to a stop. To compliment the feeling, an image of a train flashed into his mind. David shifted his body to look at the elevated train track.

  Ehrhardt repeated himself, getting louder with each word. David looked out to sea, then back to land, but nothing seemed different. Only a moment had passed since the first lurching sensation began. Then the feeling came again. David realized this was no hollow threat. Something terrible was coming.

  It was quiet. Deafeningly quiet. Ehrhardt had stopped speaking. He was holding his head as he sat on the ground.

  David looked at the brothers, then saw the fish. There were fish everywhere, jumping out of the water by the shore. As David stared, he realized they were not jumping out of the sea. Instead, the water had left them. The ocean had receded back into itself hundreds of feet, leaving the fish flopping, dying.

  Derek went to David and grabbed the back of his neck. He forced him to look. “You’ve earned this, Witness.”

  David watched the excited children running for the fish, laughing and cheering. But adults were running for the children, yelling at them, clearly terrified. Derek snapped David’s head back toward the ocean. It was returning.

  A lot of ocean.

  A real tsunami is not like a Hollywood special effect. It does not look like a high cresting wave that a surfer would ride. What David witnessed was as though the ocean had multiplied in its brief absence from the shore. Now it was returning at three, four, five times its former size. It was like the land had shrunk, gone flatter, and a huge surge of water was now an invading army.

  The voluminous sea swept deeply onto the land, covering trees, buildings. And people, so many people. It rushed in, pushing those on the beach deep into land. The helpless people were swallowed, or smashed against the strange mix of small structures and tall, modern buildings.

  “No!” the Witness yelled, but no one could hear him. The earlier silence had surrendered to the shattering destruction below.

  Derek pointed. “Uh oh. Train’s coming.”

  A long train on an elevated tr
ack, maybe a dozen feet over the streets was approaching. It was barreling right into the former coastline that was now part of the sea.

  It came to a slow stop, the elevated track now engulfed in swift, rushing water. People climbed out, to scramble onto the roofs of the train, or nearby structures jutting out of the water.

  Then the next surge hit, larger than the first.

  The new swell of ocean swallowed the train. Train cars were knocked off the track like they were toys. David could not look away no matter how much he wanted to. He realized he was sobbing.

  Ehrhardt rubbed his head while he watched his work.

  Derek said. “We had to destroy this breakout instead of using it. Instead of three warriors for us, you get this destruction.”

  The Witness looked at the brothers, great sobs rocking his body. The tears poured, unable to stop. He didn’t even hear the helicopter landing a few dozen feet away.

  Derek pursed his lips as though he understood the Witness’ pain, showing compassion for the first time since they’d taken him prisoner. Derek came to the Witness and slid his finger under the man’s eye, catching his tears. Derek put the wet finger in his own mouth, “Hmmm, despair. Tastes sweet.”

  They unlocked the chains and had to pry the arms of the Witness from the tree. As they all loaded into the helicopter, Ehrhardt shook his head. “Look what you’ve done.”

  PART

  1

  “Great secrets lurk in unlikely places.”

  ~ Demonis Codex

  CHAPTER ONE – ZACKE

  PRESENT DAY, SEA VALLEY, CALIFORNIA

  Zacke Penna took a deep breath and pushed open the shiny glass doors, stenciled with palm trees flanking a cartoon hamburger. He stood in line behind a boy about sixteen, his own age, but didn’t know him. The boy ordered and stepped aside.

  “Hello. Welcome to Ocean burgers. How may I help you?” asked the girl at the register.

  Zacke gave a shy smile, “Hi. I’m looking for Ted, the manager. I’m supposed to start today.”

  “Oh. Cool. I’ll go get him.” The girl smiled back.

  The slightly overweight general manager Ted, came to the counter, “Hey. Zacke, right?” I wonder if his mom is black, or his dad?

  Zacke thought, oh no, not today, as he tried pushing the manager’s thoughts out of his mind. He realized he’d paused for too long before answering and responded, “Yeah, I’m Zacke. I hope these shoes are okay. They say they’re non-slip.”

  “They’ll be fine until we order the right shoe; part of the uniform. Come on around that counter there,” Ted gestured. “We’ll get your paperwork done.”

  Zacke went around the counter and through the light-weight swinging door. There were several other people working as he and Ted made their way to the office behind the kitchen. Following him through the maze of tables and cooking equipment, Zacke did his best to focus. Luckily, what Zacke was picking up were only fragments of thoughts today.

  Black? I’m not sure...

  …kind of cute…

  Nice eyes…

  …Tall

  Zacke avoided eye contact. It seemed to help keep out the thoughts. Zacke imagined two halves of a great metal sphere. In his mind, he made the two halves screw tightly together. That usually worked, but it was getting harder lately. Taking this job was a big gamble. But, with his dad still drinking, it was a good way to get out of the house and make his own way.

  Ted sat Zacke at a small desk, “Go ahead and look over the rules here. There’s an I-9 and W-4 to fill out. I can help you with those, or you can take them home to your parents.”

  “Just my dad.” corrected Zacke.

  “Oh, okay.” Ted said professionally, “Your dad can help and you can bring it back.” Divorced? “But you can’t get your first paycheck until I get all your paperwork.” Dead, I hope his mom’s not…

  Zacke imagined two big hands screwing the sphere together even tighter. Ted’s thoughts went quiet, “Thanks. I think I can handle this without my dad. Thanks, Ted.”

  “After that, you’ll watch a few training videos on the computer here.” The manager explained what else he’d have to do. Zacke understood, and left him alone in the back room. The paperwork was easy. He wasn’t sure how many dependents to claim, so he put down himself as one. Just me. That’s how it feels these days.

  Zacke would handle his first job all on his own. He was half way through the first fifteen-minute training video when a girl walked in. She looked to be a year or two older than himself. Her long black hair was in a tidy pony tail, and her pale skin made her hair seem darker. Zacke tried not to stare at her backside. He failed, but he didn’t think she noticed.

  “Oh. Hi. You’re the new guy?” she said as she breezed past him to the set of lockers on the far wall.

  “Yeah. I’m Zacke.” He concentrated on keeping the sphere sealed. But the orange-dyed tips of her dark hair loosened his concentration.

  “I’m Victoria.” she said, turning her back and opening her locker. “What’s your last name?” She removed her shirt, revealing bare shoulders and a bra strap. She quickly put on her work shirt. Zacke couldn’t believe she’d casually changed in front of another employee. He realized he was staring, and had taken too long to answer.

  “Um. Um, Penna. Zacke Penna,” Zacke finally got out.

  Victoria cocked her head, “Italian name? Or something else?”

  “Yeah. I mean, yes,” Zacke fumbled, “my dad’s side is Italian, mostly.”

  She swiveled around, having buttoned up her shirt. Tucking her uniform shirt into her pants she said, “Oh,” she motioned to her shirt, “Sorry, I’m not shy. I did a lot of theater in high school. Quick changes off stage strip you of all modesty. Pun intended.”

  Zacke looked back to his paperwork to avoid staring, “Oh. No, it’s cool.”

  “Zacke Penna. I like it. Nice to meet you Zacke Penna.” She walked toward him, adjusting her nametag, “So, what are you?”

  Zacke smiled. Blunt. I like that. Without hesitation, he replied, “I’m mixed. My dad’s white. Mom’s black.”

  “Cool. Those are pretty green eyes,” she put her hand out to shake, “Nice to meet you…” She glanced down at his paperwork, “Zacke with an ‘e’. I’ll be your trainer for the next two weeks.”

  Zacke listened closely for any stray thought, unscrewing the steel sphere just a little. He heard nothing. Good. Maybe it’s finally gone, he thought. Or maybe it’s her.

  Victoria still held out her hand, “Zacke, it is customary for us humans to shake hands when we meet.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” He realized he’d paused too long again. Zacke shook her hand.

  “Come see me when you’re done with the videos.” she smiled.

  She walked out, but turned back to flash another smile. He loosened his mental sphere a bit more, but heard none of her thoughts.

  I think I’m going to like it here.

  ***

  A few days later, Zacke still couldn’t get used to how busy it was. The lines of people never seemed to stop. It was just now 7:00 p.m., three hours into his shift, and he couldn’t keep the tables bussed fast enough.

  He saw lots of kids from Sea Valley High. SVH was only a few blocks from Ocean Burgers, so he knew they got slammed for lunch. He’d even stopped by a few times between classes himself, but he didn’t realize the rest of the night would be so busy.

  Zacke still couldn’t get used to the open campuses in California. He still felt new at SVH, and the fact that you walked out into the sunshine to your locker, or your next class, still seemed surreal.

  He recalled being jammed together in the noisy multi-leveled school halls during the cold, wet winters in Michigan. The slippery floors, the constant echoing sound of lockers slamming shut. Being able to walk off campus to go get lunch was an awesome idea, but Zacke usually stuck to campus. It was cheaper that way, and he was determined to keep his eyes on his future. Looking ahead kept him from thinking about his mom.

  His tr
ainer Victoria flung him a smile. He thought the name Victoria was an old lady name, but she made it hot. Zacke still hadn’t been able to hear any of her thoughts, which somehow made him like her more. He needed to concentrate. Stay focused. Keep the lid shut tight.

  With all the people around, it made it hard to shut out the random thoughts, which was one of the reasons he took this job. I must control this. Zacke took a tray full of crumpled burger wrappers and dumped them in the trash, headed for the next dirty table.

  He had gotten better every day, keeping the thoughts out. Zacke let himself experiment, letting specific thoughts come into his mind. His control was getting better, and the thoughts were also clearer to understand, stronger.

  The blonde with her boyfriend thought, …I’ll just ask to use his phone, he knows mine’s broken. It’s not snooping…

  The mom with her little boy off to one side thought, I hate all these crowds. I’ll get it to go next time…

  A group of jocks were just coming through the door, into the long line. Zacke recognized one of them. It was Cody Nichols. He was so far undefeated on the Varsity team. The first game of the new school year was a blowout at 47-6, and Cody was the youngest quarterback in history at SVH, to hear the locals tell it.

  He had noticed Cody around before, mostly because of his bike. It was an old beat up green bike a little too small for him. Zacke had noticed it because many of the older jocks had cars. Being younger than most of them, Cody couldn’t drive yet. But he thought it strange that the quarterback rode a beat up old bike to school.

  Zacke must have focused on them too long. A thought came, …she’s hot, I wonder what… Then he focused on Cody, who was joking with his friend, and a strange image came to his mind. It was a treasure chest with a large old-fashioned lock on it; a lock you’d see in movies with knights and castles. He let his mind drift toward it, then Cody looked at him.

  Zacke saw the confusion on Cody’s face, and Zacke quickly looked away. High school guys knew the secret code; you never keep eye contact for long. But Cody looked back anyway, with confusion and maybe some fear written across his face. Zacke looked down again and went to the trash can, out of view of the jocks.