Chapter 12
The Yankees leaped out to a comfortable lead, and for a few innings, Dylan and Norm were lost in the game and a huge bowl of Nan’s hot buttered honey popcorn. Nan had curled up on the couch, her feet tucked under a knit shawl. The two boys lay wearily on the blue-carpeted floor with their heads propped on pillows.
“Tied in the ninth bottom of the ninth,” Dylan arched his back, yawning. “I’m gonna get some lemonade. Anybody need anything?”
“More popcorn.” Norm held the empty bowl up to Dylan, his eyes trained on the screen. “Yanks gotta pull this one out.”
“Don’t strain yourself.” Dylan laughed and snatched the bowl. “At least we get last ups or its extra innings.”
“Gotta love home-field advantage.” Norm said, clasping his hands behind his head.
After refilling the popcorn, he poured the lemonade and heard buzzing again: a bee bouncing into the kitchen window. Bees don’t come out at night. Dylan remembered Max’s warnings of the void. A chill shivered through his flesh. We’re safe in the house. Dylan reminded himself, squinting out the window, nothing except for the bee repeatedly banging the glass. Faster. Deliberate.
“Where’s that popcorn?” Norm called, breaking the bee’s spell.
“Sorry, coming.” Dylan was almost out of the kitchen when another bee pounded himself into the glass. “What?” Dylan spun around. More bees appeared, hitting the window so fast it sounded like rain on the roof. The tapping grew to a rapid crescendo. For a second Dylan could feel their fear, his heart a snare drum in his chest. “What is wrong with-”
The back door tore off its hinges. Four black-clad, armored humanoids stormed the kitchen. They barreled into Dylan, driving a knee into his gut, knocking him backwards into the living room. The largest invader stepped on Norm’s chest before he could get off the floor. Another grabbed Nan and flung her off the couch.
Shmire stepped forward, the others spread out around the room. Like the other Terovians, he was bald, with several chains woven into his scalp and two sharpened bones protruding from his forehead like horns. His skin was pocked and rough, like an insect eaten orange left in the sun.
“Weak. That’s what I hear about humans.” Schmire’s voice was high pitched, scratchy, altogether soulless. “Soft, weak nothings. I thought a young Scion would put up a fight. Which one of you is the Scion?” Dylan considered talking but decided it was to his advantage to stay quiet.
Nan glared at him, unafraid, her eyes trained like a sniper. “I don’t know what Scion you’re talking about, but hopefully he’ll be rid of the likes of you, trash.”
“Trash?” Shmire cackled, pulling Nan up to her feet by her hair. “You are the trash, old woman. And since you’re not the Scion, I’ll just kill you now.”
Dylan jumped to his feet. “Why do you want the Scion?”
“Is it you? Or are you protecting this one?” Shmire stepped on Norm’s hand.
“Shmire,” one of the other Raiders mumbled. “Vorgan is coming.”
“No names, fool!” Shmire snapped. “Remember your training, Terovian!”
“You’re Terovian?” Dylan asked, surprised by his own calmness.
“Ahh!” Shmire grimaced, realizing he had just divulged information to his enemy. “No more words! Which of you is the Scion?” He pulled a dagger from his boot and held it against Nan’s belly. She glared at Dylan and Norm to keep quiet.
“Trash.” Nan growled under her breath.
“Who is it?” he cackled, pressing the blade harder into her gut when the heavy metal footsteps clanked down the hallway behind them.
“Beating old women again? You embarrass our tribe, raider.” Vorgan’s voice rumbled like an earthquake. Five more raiders spread out and took up position around the living room. “It appears you have followed your instructions so far. I know any longer would only lead to disappointment.”
“Yes, Vorgan.” Shmire bowed, conceding dominance.
Vorgan surveyed the home, unimpressed. “Am I to believe a Scion lives in this hovel? A protector of the galaxy who could command riches beyond the imagination and he chooses this?” He towered over his captives, shaking his head. “It won’t matter what you choose soon.” A massive, gleaming blade sprang from beneath his armor. “Bring the fat one! Now!”
A raider dragged Norm to the other side of the room in a forearm choke hold. “Why aren’t they sucking the life out-” He asked as the raider applied more pressure to his throat, cutting off his words.
“It’s not them,” Dylan said before another knee dropped him to the floor.
Vorgan stalked toward Dylan. “Hmm, the fat one makes little sense. But you, you make sense. We’ll find out soon enough.” A gleaming short sword sprang from the Terovian’s gauntlet.
Through the madness, a tapping on the window. Dylan raised his head enough to see the bee, joined by another. Then five, ten, more than he could count, rattling against the glass pane.
“Him first.” The Two raiders hoisted Dylan upright, his feet barely touching the floor, and slammed him over the coffee table. “Hold him.” Vorgan positioned himself, his blade at the ready.
“Don’t you -” Nan wailed before Shmire backhanded her over the sofa.
“Silence her permanently if she speaks again.” Vorgan sliced the air, testing his downward swing. Dylan closed his eyes. No tree. He braced himself. This is it. Buzzing, tapping, louder. His mind raced. An idea. “Norm! The window!” Vorgan raised the blade over Dylan’s head. “Break it!”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Norm shoved back hard against his taller captor, driving the raider into the window.
Vorgan hesitated. “In a millisecond, the sound of shattering glass became the roar of ten thousand bees, ravaging the hapless Terovians. Unable to elude the countless attackers, the aliens howled, scattering, swatting, rolling, running up the stairs, jumping out windows, only to find more of the swarm.
“They’re not attacking us!” Norm yelled over the deafening buzz.
“Where’s Nan?” Dylan searched through the chaos.
“She ran back there.” Norm pointed toward her room.
Without hesitation, Dylan ducked into the back hallway and into her room. “Nan?” He scanned the room and saw her window open. “She must have climbed out and gone for help?”
“Maybe. Besides, the Star Trek refugees don’t want her.” Norm pulled Dylan toward the doorway. “They want you.”
“So, they’ll follow us.” Dylan nodded. “We need to get the chime. It’s in the backpack. Then we gotta get to the A-field.” Through the buzzing maelstrom, the boys avoided the squirming Terovians and sprinted up the stairs.
Nan peeked out from her closet. They won’t be underestimating this old lady again.
The swarm was just as thick on the second floor. “I got it! Let’s go,” Norm said, tossing the backpack to Dylan. They opened the window, jumped onto the short roof and down to the soft grass below. They ran along the back length of the school, the buzz fading into the rhythmic tapping of their feet.
Vorgan swatted at the dissipating remnants of the bees, his face a bloody mass of boils, welts, and embedded stingers. “Raiders?” He boomed. “Where is the Scion?”
“Whoever you’re looking for,” Nan’s sweet voice broke the diminishing buzz. “He’s long gone.”
“Take her!” Vorgan yelled.
“They’ll be no takin’ this old girl.” Nan raised her shotgun, fired two shots, dropping the closest pair of raiders, stopping the others in their tracks. She cocked and aimed again, like a pro, her gun shifting between her potential assailants. Schmire slid his hand down towards his blaster. “You messed with the wrong old lady tonight!” She fired again, clipping his shoulder, and backed herself against the wall. She only had a few shots left and knew they had to count.
The silver knight materialized in motion, spinning, effortless, liquid crystal blades slicing through a pair of raiders.
“Praesidium!” Vorgan rumbled through the back door. “Fall back! Find the Scion!” The Terovians scattered in every direction.
“Where is Dyl-… the Scion?” The knight asked Nan, who had her gun still raised. “I’m not your enemy. I-”
“I know who you are.” Nan lowered the gun. “Alaris!”
“I need to help him. Where is he? Please?”
“Answer me one question.” Nan’s eyes swelled with tears. “Why couldn’t they leave him alone?”
“It’s not our choice! You must tell me where he is. Now!”
“The field behind the school.” Nan pointed.
Alaris spoke into the helmet com-link. “Orion, send down Beetlebee and find the void we’ve been tracking.”
“It’s already in pursuit of something,” Orion’s voice echoed through the room. “Move to intercept at these coordinates.”
“Save them, please.” Nan said, slumping against the wall, dizzy with adrenaline.
“I will.” Alaris caught Nan by the shoulders. “Do not leave the house.” The knight’s armor glowed white, blinked, and vanished.
* * *
“Get the chime.” Dylan said, crossing the playground. “In the side Pocket.”
Norm fumbled with the pocket and pulled out the leather pouch. “Here. We gotta keep mov-” Dylan no sooner touched the chime, than the icy aura engulfed him, the air sucked from his lungs. The void leaped over the fence behind them. “Run!” Norm mouthed, unable to move, the energy vampire feasting on their life force.
A white light exploded between the beast and his prey, spraying the boys with life-giving rays. “Run, now,” Alaris lashed the beast with its energy whip. They staggered over the short, wood planked bridge leading to the A-field.
Dylan pulled the chime from the pouch, a metallic tuning fork humming in his hand, when- “Norm!” Armored hands from below the bridge, locked around his ankle.
Two Terovians crawled out of the creek, blocking them from the field.
“Hit’em, Dylan! Now!” With no other choice, Dylan shut his eyes, the fiery tree glowing in a rage of brilliance. He smashed his glowing fist into the bridge. The crack of energy, like a massive sub-woofer blast, knocked the raiders flying backwards.
Norm caught Dylan before he fell. “Ring the chime!”
Struggling to stand, Dylan banged the chime against the bridge's metal handrail. The uncanny sound reverberated, ebbing, flowing, like an ocean of sound rolling toward a faraway shoreline. The boys stumbled into the open field, vibrations shaking the night air until the world and time itself distorted.
“Stop them!” Vorgan’s voice echoed like an underwater train.
“Stay with me, D.” Norm looked back. The Raiders closed the gap between them. He pulled Dylan’s arm over his shoulders, his chest heaving. In the center of the field, the night sky blurred, waves twisted into a vortex of rainbow light.
“Run to it,” Dylan mumbled, straining to keep his feet from dragging. Without hesitation, Norm bolted for the vortex. Armored boots clanked behind them, closer. Not sure what he was running toward, Norm pressed on, legs burning, adrenaline almost spent. Amidst the vibrations, an engine revved like a super charged space hot-rod. The dizzying sounds grew louder, clearer.
Dylan lifted his head. Music? Rhythmic drums and bass pounded in the night air. A glow ripped through the darkness, splintering above them until a rift tore open in the fabric of reality. Waves of energy sucked into it like a massive vacuum tube. The Terovians closed. The music amplified, a sound garden of sensory overload. A horn and a thunderous voice broke the noise.
“Get down!” Like the headlight on a northbound train, a volcano of prismatic flares erupted from the portal. Norm slammed Dylan down to the ground. A cosmic purple VW Microbus exploded from the hole, scattering the Terovians. Swirls of inter-dimensional energy crackled as the vehicle’s turbo-charged revs faded, replaced by the telltale puttering of a Volkswagen microbus taking a slow turn until it skidded to a halt in the dirt in the center of the field. The side door slammed open. A tall, eccentric looking man, in a long multi-colored coat, with a poof of frizzy red hair and a ZZ top style beard screamed at the top of his lungs. “What’re ya waitin’ for? Get in!” He jumped back into the driver’s seat and steered toward the boys and the already shrinking rift. Exhausted, they lumbered alongside the puttering VW bus. Norm shoved Dylan in, then launched himself through the door and collapsing in the vibrating box of bolts.
“’Bout time, slow-poke! Shut the door!” The voice was familiar, like an old grumpy cartoon character shouting above the Grateful Dead blaring through the speakers. The driver’s frazzled hair wobbled on top of his head, both hands straining to turn the exceedingly stiff steering wheel. “Rule one for the inter-dimensional back roads. When you ring the chime, move it! You guys did ok, but we ain’t outta here yet.”
“Whoa.” Norm murmured, amazed by the glowing wire-filled tubes and pulsing crystals lining the inside of the space-hippie-mobile. A hard thud crashed into the side of the bus, an armored gauntlet clawing at the window. “If you get us outta here, you can lecture me about my slowness all you want!” A second thud hit the back of the bus as it lethargically crept back up to speed. “They’re all around us,” Norm yelled as more Raiders closed on the 60s relic. The pilot veered into the raider.
“Terovians!” the wild-haired driver grumbled. “Scum o’ the galaxy.” He angled back onto his path to the rift when something landed hard on the roof. “We got company, hang on!” he hollered, swerving the bus back and forth until the Raider rolled past the side windows. The other raiders trailed the bus like a pack of wolves tracking its prey.
“Almost there, then we’ll-Whoa!” A void sprang between the bus and the rift. It spread its black arms wide, waiting. The driver pressed the pedal down to the floor. “Hang on!” A white flash from the side- Alaris swept a blade through the creature’s neck. The headless void-body staggered a few steps and disintegrated. The bus plunged through its dust. Its cosmic engine revved, engulfing the vehicle in star-fire as it rocketed into the air and vanished into the vortex.