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The Phoenix Gene
11. The Village: Firestorm

11. The Village: Firestorm

FIRESTORM:

“Stay here and don’t touch anything.”

“Geez, fine.”

“We’re going back to the past.”

I left Jackie on the outskirts of the stream so she couldn’t meddle. I needed her to see how everything played out so she could understand who she really was and why she was so important to my mission. This was not the time to explore the slipstream. I went back to where we had left off with Zayne and Grace.

Despite being in that cage for years, Zayne knew the way back to his village as if he had walked that path only minutes ago. He led Grace through the thicket. Still scared of the Bennu birds and the radioactive eggs, Grace held on tightly to his hand. He liked the touch of her warm, soft skin.

“This is home.” Zayne beamed at the sight of the village gates.

A group of women slowly moved their arms above their heads in sync, practicing Ni Cree.

“What are they doing?” Grace asked Zayne.

“Ni Cree flows with All. We thank All for everything. Move as one.”

“Kind of like Tai Chi?” Grace asked.

Zayne didn’t know what that meant and focused instead on the details of the village he dreamed of returning to. Things changed in the years he was gone.

It was dusk, and several men prepared food in an outdoor kitchen covered by a wooden shade structure. Others gathered at the long family-style table to share the bounty with their neighbors. Small houses lined the grassy knoll that children played in, not ready to settle down for dinner. They ran after each other with arms outstretched, flapping their pretend wings like the Bennu birds. Bird Tag was always great fun for the children.

Zayne saw his grandmother sitting at the head of the table. He dropped Grace’s hand and burst into a sprint. He could wait no longer.

“Nannu!” he called out as he ran to her.

His grandmother turned to look. Her wrinkled face lit up with shock.

“Zayne?”

He scooped his grandmother into the biggest hug. She grabbed his cheeks and searched his face, amazed he had miraculously returned to her. They spoke in their language as Grace sluggishly walked toward the table, unsure of her place there.

The kids playing nearby stopped and joined the growing circle around Zayne. It surprised everyone to see him. Grace noticed they made their beautiful clothes from the Bennu bird; leather jackets and pants made from their scaly skin, jewelry from their teeth and talons.

Nannu noticed Grace and asked Zayne about her in their native tongue. He explained where he’d been and how Grace helped him escape.

Jappa, another teen boy, grabbed Zayne and put him in a headlock. Zayne pulled away. He instinctively bobbed, weaved, and pushed Jappa to the ground. Prepared to punch, Zayne stopped when he recognized his old friend.

“Jappa!”

He helped Jappa up, and the boys hugged. After a lively exchange in their language, Jappa turned to Grace. He pointed at himself and said, “Friend.”

Grace smiled. “Nice to meet you. Jappa, is it?”

“Yes, me Jappa.” He grabbed her hand and kissed it. He bowed his head as if she were royalty.

Tinga, a tall man with brooding features, broke through the crowd. He had a deep and hideous scar down the middle of his face. His left eye had been replaced with a white marble.

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“It’s him!” Grace took a step back at the uncomfortable sight of the scarred man.

Tinga spoke with a loud, aggressive voice and grilled Zayne with questions in their native language.

Nannu answered for Zayne, putting Tinga in his place. All the villagers took a seat at the table.

Zayne grabbed Grace’s hand and led her to a bench. He sat between her and Nannu.

Tinga sat across from them. His good eye examined Grace; her gold tennis bracelet, her dewy skin, and unwelcome presence. The villagers grabbed each other’s hands and bowed their heads while Nannu led them in a prayer. Grace bowed her head, but kept her eyes open to look around, still taking it all in.

After the prayer, Nannu grabbed Grace’s hand.

“Welcome,” she said with a genuine smile.

Grace smiled back, only slightly more comfortable. She looked at Tinga and tensed again.

“Nannu thanks you for saving me,” Zayne whispered to Grace. “She welcomes and invites you to eat.”

A woman wearing a beautifully embroidered dress put a platter in front of Grace and Zayne. She pulled up the cover and revealed a feast of radioactive Bennu eggs.

Grace gasped when Zayne grabbed a handful of eggs and shoved them in his mouth.

“We found egg bounty in the cave of clover,” Zayne said with his mouth full.

Tinga grunted, and Nannu nodded, pleased with her newly returned grandson.

Nannu said to Zayne, “Your English has improved.”

She turned to Grace and added, “You must be an excellent teacher.”

Grace tried to smile through her disgust at the villagers eating the glowing radioactive green eggs.

“You eat these?” Grace whispered to Zayne.

Zayne nodded. “Bennu eggs boost vitality.”

He offered her one, and she took it. Unsure, Grace inspected the gooey green egg before taking a tiny bite.

“You like?”

“It tastes like fish, but with the texture of jello.”

“You like!” Zayne smiled.

“Yum, fish jello,” Grace said sarcastically. She hid her disgust with a fake smile.

“Bennu eggs have a power that must be protected,” Nannu informed Grace. “We protect them always, but Bennu is angry. Balance has been lost.”

Not knowing how to respond, Grace complimented Nannu’s necklace; a Merkaba symbol made of Bennu teeth. The sacred geometry merged two tetrahedrons together.

“That’s a lovely symbol around your neck. What does it mean?”

Nannu caressed the necklace she wore. “An ancient sign of divine protection. This union of light is most powerful.”

Grace smiled. “How lovely.”

“Zayne, you must make her one,” Nannu instructed.

“Yes,” he agreed.

Tinga slammed his hand on the table, startling Grace.

“Enough little talk. Tell me of your captor,” Tinga said to Zayne with glowing egg spitting out of his mouth. “Not attacked by Bennu?”

“I bathe in the river when darkness comes over my eyes. I was taken by man, locked in a cage for many moons. Trapped and tortured.”

The whole community listened to Zayne with bated breath. Parents held their children closer.

“Man is more dangerous than creature!” Tinga spat. “When my son disappears, Menva whisper these truths to me.”

“Menva?” Grace whispered to Zayne.

“Goddess of wisdom,” Zayne replied softly.

“How many sons will they take?” Tinga shouted. He stood to address the table. “Eat of the Bennu bird, and strength will be yours! Tonight, we storm the complex! No more sons lost to man.”

Everyone looked to Nannu for her reaction. She was clearly in charge. She questioned Tinga in their native language, and he argued his case.

Zayne chimed in.

Grace didn’t know what was being said.

After a heated exchange, Nannu turned to Grace and said, “Tell me all you know.”

“Why would you storm the complex? We’ve trapped the man responsible for this. He’s in the cage. We need to interrogate him and find my parents. They’ll fix this,” Grace promised.

Tinga huffed at her suggestion.

“The guilty man is in the cage,” Grace pushed. “Tell them, Zayne.”

Tinga, Zayne, and his grandmother spoke in their language again.

Tinga said to Grace, “Daddy is not lost. I cooked him dinner tonight.”

“What?”

“They’re looking for you, little girl,” Tinga added with anger in his good eye.

Grace looked at Zayne, confused. He had no words to comfort her.

Tinga addressed Nannu. “Bennu turned on us after the complex is built. If they take our sons to torture, what they do to Bennu?” He spoke in English so Grace could hear it.

He grabbed a Bennu egg and added, “Vitality in their hands is dangerous! We must protect Bennu.”

Nannu nodded her head in agreement.

“We storm the complex!” Tinga screamed, “for our sons and for Bennu!”

On Nannu’s nod, the villagers clapped to support Tinga’s plan.

“Finem maluma!” Tinga added with a fist in the air.

The villagers chanted “finem maluma” as they gobbled up the last Bennu eggs and left the table.

Grace turned to Zayne and asked, “What’s going on, dear?”

“Tonight, we take our island back.”

Someone handed Zanye an axe. He took it with a nod.

“But my family owns…”

Grace looked around at the village preparing for war and chose not to complete her sentence.

One by one, the villagers returned to the table with sharp knives, spears, axes, and mallets. Some had small handguns. Their excitement electrified the warm summer air.

“Zayne, I’m scared.” Grace grabbed his arm for protection.

“If Father and Mother are in trouble,” he assured her, “we save them.”

Grace didn’t look so sure. He offered her a knife, but she shook her head no.

“I can’t.” She folded her arms and shrunk within herself, scared of what was to come. She didn’t know how to stop the violence that was sure to come next...