Renegade Reborn (21 page)

Wordless, Chappo could not move, frozen as he watched his friend move with the wind and strike like lightning as he pulled his blade from the nape of the man’s neck and with a flick, cut the throat of the second oncoming attacker, then, moved onto the last remaining man, the one he saw had mounted his wife.

Rather than attack, the man stumbled back, naked from the waist down, his manhood hanging out in full reveal, the same manhood that had raped and murdered his wife . . .

In the Spanish tongue, Goyahkla did not understand what the man was saying, but he didn’t have to. He knew a cry for mercy when he heard one. When it was clear Goyahkla was fresh out, the man began to plead to the sky, uttering yells and shouts to a Saint Jerome, over and over, as quickly as he could, making his shouts sound oddly like the word, “Geronimo”.

In one lunge, Goyahlka closed the gap between them, and caught the man by the front of his long, spike of a beard, and snapped his head down, then brought the knife down atop his tailbone. The man screamed, GERONIMO! And fell flat on his face, but clearly, Goyahkla did not want him there. Quickly, he flipped the screaming man over and dragged him by his scalp to the one water source his tribe had found in the desolate wasteland, and the one reason why they had relocated their village closer to civilization, his decision, a decision, in hindsight, that would haunt him for the rest of his days . . .

The Spanish man was still screaming, ‘Geronimo’ as Goyahkla dragged him to the well. He didn’t quite know why, but he enjoyed the sound of the man’s screams. It meant that the man’s pain sensors were still active. That was good. He wanted this man to feel everything that was about to transpire. Goyahkla quickly pulled up the well’s rope, ripped the bucket free on the end, and tied it around the neck of the man’s scrotum, so tight, the head of it swelled, and turned purple.

Again the man shouted, and repeated the word Geronimo, Geronimo, Geronimo, over and over again as Goyahkla, with little effort due to the adrenaline surge, picked the man up and dropped him headfirst down into the well. The rope followed him snaking and wriggling after him. Even as he fell, the word came out long and winded this time, sounding like, “Geronimooooo!”

Goyahlka waited patiently and was rewarded when the rope finally snapped straight with tension, and an unearthly scream, more feral than human, burst from the bottom of the well. Over and over again, the word came now, Geronimooo! Geronimooo!

The man would die there, hanging from the tool of his own demise . . .

Chappo joined his friend by his side who now was breathing hard. Something in his eyes was lost, gone. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came.

With the man still screaming, Goyahkla walked toward his wife’s battered body. Tears burst from his eyes and swam down his grimy face. He allowed them to flow, telling himself that he would empty them, permanently, and they would be the last tears he would ever cry. He would spend them all, all for his love. She deserved nothing less, but so much more.

“Goyahkla, I . . . I . . .” Chappo started now, falling down next to him. Quickly, Goyahkla embraced his brother, the last one remaining from their village.

No words were said as the two of them went about the business of putting their loved ones to rest, the proper way, the Aapache way by burying the person with all their possessions. It was a process that took the rest of the day, and well into the night. There wasn’t too many bodies intact due to the fires, but they did what they could.

Goyahkla buried his wife and three children by the river in the moonlight. Upon finishing, the moon was at its highest and the amethyst necklace, once destined to be worn by his love, now hung around his own neck. At one time, the stone had a price, but now, it had become priceless.

“What now?” Chappo asked.

“We wait for Chief Mangas Coloradas to return.” Goyahkla said.

“Then what?” Chappo asked.

“Then I request to be sent away to battle with Chief Cochise’s band and give the Mexicano’s reason to say Geronimo once again, now, and in the next life!” Goyahkla said.

Chapter Ten: The Great Veil War

“You didn’t have to come with me you know,” Rolce said.

“You don’t know these people like I do.” Jackobi growled. “This isn’t a debate, Rolce. It’s a duel to the death for their amusement. You have nothing to prove to these charlatans. I believe their decision is already made . . .”

“Then I’ll have to change that. A Sybil is a warrior, a guide, but also a spiritual leader. Besides, she made things pretty clear cut for us. We either gain an ally or gain another enemy. If we can get Lady Seveara and her Soarian’s on our side, they could make the difference in . . . ” Rolce started.

“They don’t care about your views or Purah’s, Rolce. They want to be catered to. They want to matter. In their minds, it’s all about them. All they want is the glory of being the saviors for one side or the other, and let me tell you, Rolce, the worst kinds of villains are the ones who see themselves as the heroes.” Jackobi said.

“Maybe, but despite what Purah has done, I can’t let this become personal for me. I need to rise above it if I’m going to stand a chance. In the end, both of us want peace, Jack. We just want to go about it differently,” Rolce said. Jackobi glared at him.

“I hate to admit it, but I suppose, in a way, you’re right. You have a rare quality, Rolce. You’re able to see both sides to every argument. Me? I don’t have the tolerance for it. Life is too short to cater to idiots, especially when you know you’re right.” Jackobi said. Rolce couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. He put a big arm around his friend as they walked down a big, golden hallway toward their destination.

“The sun may be gone, but you continue to be the next best thing to a ray of sunshine, Jack. I’m glad you’ve come with me.” Rolce said. They walked in silence for a little while. “So, about, Gisbo . . .”

“He’s in good hands. That’s all you need to know. I think you should be more focused on your opponent. Remember, you are practically going up against a Renegade Chieftain. Purah was the favorite if you remember, but he passed it onto Narroway, and to top it off, he’s a Sybil with years of experience beyond you,” Jack said. Rolce’s face suddenly grimaced.

“That’s not what worries me. What worries me is that I know nothing about him, and he knows everything about me.” Rolce said.

“Not everything. If he did, he would be standing with you, not against you. If there’s one man out I wouldn’t want to mess with, it’s you, Rolce.” Jackobi said. Rolce was shocked. He knew that coming from Jack, this was quite an honor.

“What about Gisbo?” Rolce asked. Jackobi looked at Rolce and audibly scoffed.

“Gisbo’s a chump,” Jack said. At that, Rolce burst into laughter and even Jackobi chuckled a little.

“But, you’re sure he’s all right?” Rolce asked.

“He’s fine. Lay off.” Jack said.

“Why do you always do that? You get off on being withholding, don’t you?” Rolce asked.

“Every man has their pleasures, even me,” Jack said. “Yes, it’s true, I know things, but soon, you will know them too. At one time, Gisbo had to rise above a Berserker, and become something more. I had to do the same, and now? It’s your turn, Rolce, and when you do, Purah won’t know what hit him, and that, that will be a first, and when it happens, I just hope I have a front row seat to see the look on his face . . .” Jackobi said.

Rolce looked at his friend then, seeing something in his eyes flash, and remembered that for a good long year he had been Purah’s prisoner, along with his late father, Shax, and Malik Strife.

“The cave, when he thought you were the Man-Phoenix . . .” Rolce said. Jack looked up at him and nodded.

“That’s right. I’ve seen first hand the kind of man Purah is.” Jackobi said, suddenly growing silent.

“And that is?” Rolce asked.

“A genius.” Jackobi said. “And worse, from what I saw, he’s a genius who’s bored. I can’t tell if this is all just a game for him, or if he truly believes in what Drakearon’s selling.” Jackobi said.

“But, Drakearon, he’s . . .” Rolce started.

“Drakearon isn’t like Purah, not at all. Drakearon’s motives, you can understand, but, Purah? I consider myself a good judge of people . . .” Jack started.

“Debatable.” Rolce chimed in. Jackobi ignored him.

“But when it comes to Purah, I can’t read him and that bothers me.” Jackobi said. “This is why he went undetected as a Renegade traitor for so long, right under everyone’s noses. He only shows us what we want to see. There’s something that rubs me the wrong way about this whole thing, and I can’t figure it out.” Jackobi said. “We’re here.”

Together they stopped and stood before a large archway. Jack reached out with his Soarian energy, placed a finger on the center, and drew a seamless line down the middle. Suddenly, the doors opened and together, they walked inside.

“Cripes . . . this is, this has to be the nicest place I’ve ever been in! We’re staying here?!” Rolce asked, spinning all about, trying to take it all in.

Before them was a golden domed room that sparkled and glistened like a morning sunrise over the Aquarian ocean. Jewels of a variety of hues adorned the walls, ceilings, and were even embedded within the floor tiles in a variety of different, eye catching patterns. Within the domed wall were indents and within the indents, books were placed, and wrapped around a spiral staircase in the middle of the room that went upward to a second floor. Rolce began to climb the stairs as Jackobi grumbled something behind him.

“I can’t believe you’re complaining. Just look at this place! This, this place is like a work of art!” Rolce said.

“Superficial drivel for soulless shells.” Jackobi muttered as they reached the top of the stairs where two waterbeds encrusted in a golden shell lay, just beckoning them for a dream filled sleep. “The only true beauty this room has, is the ceiling.”

Rolce looked up to see a brilliant night sky. Rolce was taken a back. It had been years since he had seen a star studded sky, and its beauty nearly gave him cause to weep. He knew of course it was just the same technology down within the Ronigade’s old home that portrayed the night skies in many of the family rooms, but the machines powering the displays all burnt out within a few months of staying. Rolce’s pack fell out of his hands and for a long minute, the two of them just stood there and stared.

“When you’re right, you’re right, Jack,” Rolce said, suddenly feeling his eyes moisten.

“We have a long few days ahead of us, but before that starts, it’s about damn time to even the score.” Jackobi said, seating himself on one of the beds. The waterbed jostled beneath his weight.

“Even the score? What score?” Rolce asked.

“You said it yourself. Purah knows everything about you and yet, we know nothing about him. Time to change that,” Jack said.

“And just how do we go about that?” Rolce asked.

“I won’t lie to you. I’ve been thinking a lot about this, even before you said it. This is all experimental, maybe even hearsay, but being that I am fluent in the Drakeness, and it cannot break me, I am privy to a thing known as Memory Chains. You see, the Drakeness’ purpose is to bring everyone under one mind, one heart, one consciousness. Those that are infected by the Drakeness, including myself, are all linked, plugged into Drakearon’s network if you will, and I, I can not only see them, I believe I can access them . . . get where I’m going with this? I believe, that through absolute concentration, with your help, I should be able to locate the very chain linked memories of Purah and . . .” Jack started.

“Amazing, Jack! Anything I can learn about him, anything at all, can help me find a weakness, a crack! Let’s do it. What do I have to do?” Rolce asked.

“You really need to stop interrupting me.” Jack said.

“Sorry, but this, this is huge! Tell me, what do I need to do?” Rolce asked.

“Just as Purah, through Shax, once sent the Drakeness into you temporarily to open that portal for you and Gisbo, I will be doing the same thing. First though, I must gain access to the Memory Chains and find the beginning of it all. My concentration must be absolute, so, I will need your Sybil abilities to help guide my way through the chains like a light in the darkness. As I said, I’ve never attempted this before, but I’m sure we can pull it off,” Jack said. If anyone else besides Rolce or Gisbo heard his final sentence, they would have heard nothing wrong, but Rolce, being his best friend and synergy mate, heard the slightest of quivers in his voice.

“What’s wrong?” Rolce asked.

“I won’t lie to you. What we are attempting is very dangerous. We are, essentially, opening the door of our minds, and as you know, doors swing both ways . . . something could come back in, something unwanted, like,
him
,” Jackobi said.

“By
him
,
you mean Drakearon?” Rolce asked. Jack nodded.

“Should he discover us messing with the chains, he could assault our minds, and if he does, there would be no counter attack, no defense, no escape. We would become brain-dead, vegetables,” Jackobi said. Rolce took in a deep breath.

“The way I see it, if I go into this fight blind, I’m already dead, but you Jack, you don’t need to risk yourself on my account.” Rolce said. Jack rolled his eyes.