"Anamnesis" Chapter Eight

Anamnesis ©
Chapter Eight
By Fiction Writer #13
( nosex, sci-fi, paranormal)

After fifteen minutes driving around in circles through the tiny parking lot, Rob finally felt he was getting the hang of things. It was an odd sensation to be in the driver's seat, sitting behind the wheel, but Steph's instructions just seemed to click in his head. Though he had never driven before in his life, years of video games seemed to have paid off.

"Okay, you're doing great, Robbie. Next time around, let's pull out into traffic."

Steph sounded exhausted as she spoke. Rob was glad that he could help her out by taking over for a little while.

Rob's foot slammed the brake into the floor, jerking the car to a sudden halt. He hadn't seen the guy until he was almost on top of him, and now he was nowhere to be seen.

She un-clicked her seat belt and turned towards her scared little brother. "Make sure it's in park and shut off the engine."

Steph was out of the car and into the summer heat in a heart beat. She practically sprinted around the front of the car, expecting to see their victim splayed out on the ground in a pool of red. Instead she found their waiter, the one who had passed out before taking their order, sitting on the hot asphalt staring at her as if she were on fire.

The young man raised his hand, his palms dripping blood from abrasions suffered from his fall. One of his long fingers pointed out towards her, sending a chill down her spine. She expected him to yell at her, to scream about nearly being hit by their car.

His statement took her by surprise and she found herself taking a step away from him just as Robbie opened his door and looked on with a sigh of relief.

The young guy's shaking hand and wild eyes now fixed on her brother. "You! You're dead too!"

Rob misunderstood his words as a threat. He had intended to help the poor guy up off the ground, but now elected to keep the car door between them, just in case he needed some protection. "I'm sorry man. I... I didn't even see you there. If Steph hadn't..."

"Steph!" The young guy's attention snapped back to her. "It's you! It's really you! I can't fucking believe it! You're alive! You're fucking ALIVE!" The strange waiter began laughing hysterically as he pulled himself up to stand on wobbly legs. "How? How are you here? I... I was at your fucking funeral! I gave the God damn eulogy!"

The guy's wild laughter began to break down into sobs. Rob and Steph exchanged confused looks between each other. Steph shrugged, Rob twirling a finger beside his temple in answer.

"This isn't happening." He covered his face with his hands, his palms grinding into his eyes as if rubbing them would erase Rob and Steph from his sight. "I'm losing my friggin mind. Lost it. Too much stress. I'm... I'm just imagining this. You're not really here. You can't be here. I'm going to open my eyes, and everything is going to be as it was. I'll just... just go home and sleep this off, and everything will be okay again."

During his long tirade Steph slowly backed away, attempting to retreat behind her open door. Rob stayed perfectly still, not wanting to draw the deranged man's attention before his sister had made it back to the safety of the car. She had just made it around the bumper when the lunatic opened his bloodshot and tear filled eyes.

"You're still here. I'm not imagining this." He spoke flatly as if he were still trying to convince himself of what he was saying.

Steph continued to back away, now holding her hands out in front, moving them in a calming gesture. "Look buddy, we don't want any trouble. We'll just be on our way, okay?"

"You... you don't remember me?" Now it was his turn to offer a confused expression. "After... after three years of going out? You forget me after a year? A God damned year?"

The guy started to move towards Steph with his fist clenched in anger. "Do you have any idea what I've been going through! I thought you fucking died! Blew up! You and your whole fucking family gone in a fireball! Do you have any idea what that did to me? Jesus fucking Christ, Steph, the police thought that I had something to do with it!" The strange, angry man jammed his finger into his ribs. "Me! They thought I blew up your damn house! They interrogated me for three fuckin' days, Steph! Three... fucking... days."

Rob's heart thundered in his chest as adrenalin flooded his system. He watched warily as the guy got closer and closer to his sister. He knew he had to do something to draw his attention from her. It was clear that if he got into a fight with the guy, he would lose, but he had to do something.

The car horn did the trick. The crazed waiter stopped in his tracks and turned to face Robbie. Steph continued to back up until she bumped into the open door, which surprised her enough to let out a tiny yelp of fear. Steph's little squeak was enough to draw his attention back to her.

"I thought you were dead. All of you. You, your brother, your mom and dad, and your little sister. How... how could you do that to someone?"

The gears in Rob's mind starting turning so fast he could hardly keep up with his own thoughts. Something this guy had just said triggered a memory, or at least he thought it was a memory, he couldn't really be sure anymore.

He was lying in bed, only it wasn't his bed. It felt like his bed, but it was all wrong. Even the room looked both familiar and odd at the same time. There were posters on the walls. Images of bands he had never heard of or listened to in his life, and yet, he knew all of the words to every one of their songs.

Suddenly, his mother's voice cut into the silent memory. She was calling him. Not just him, but everyone, down for dinner.

Steph had made it around her door and managed to get one foot inside. "Look, I don't know who you think I am, but I don't know who the hell you are or what the fuck you're talking about."

"Wait!" Rob's cry startled both his sister and the crazy guy. "You said little sister. What was her name?"

Steph shot her brother a withering look, angry that he was encouraging this nut to continue when they could have just ducked into the car and sped away. Rob ignored her.

The guy also shot him a look, but more one of confusion than anger. "What, have you lost your mind too, Rob?"

The man shook his head. "Have you both lost your fucking minds? What is this shit?"

The two siblings turned as one to stare blankly at each other, shock on both of their faces. Rob watched as Steph's complexion blanched white, her eyes rolling around in their sockets before her hand shot up to cover her mouth. "Oh God, I'm gonna... urp !"

In an instant Steph dropped out of Rob's line of sight, but the sound of loud retching told him she hadn't gone far. Rob took off around the back of the car to offer her some help but he found the stranger already there, holding his sister's hair away from her face as violent contractions racked her body. One of his hands was tenderly rubbing her back as he spoke. "Its okay, Steph, let it out. You'll feel better soon."

Between dry heaves Steph sobbed, "My head... Oh God, it hurts. It hurts so bad."

He turned to face Rob. "We need to get her out of this heat. Help me get her back inside the diner."

Rob took a step closer and bent down to help him lift her to her feet. Suddenly a wave of panic ran through him. "No! We can't go back to there. They're coming, we have to go."

"I don't know, but we can't stay here." Rob looked around wildly, searching the passing traffic for some sign of the approaching danger. "Is there anywhere else we could go?"

"Uhh..." the guy managed to get Steph upright, but she was too weak to stand under her own power, "We can take her to my Uncle's place. It's not far from here. Can you drive?"

"No." The last experience was enough for Rob. Getting behind the wheel again was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Okay then, um, let's get her to my car. It's right over there." The man pointed over to a small, beat up, mustard yellow car. "It's a piece of crap, but it's mine," he defended after seeing Rob's reaction.

After trudging across the pavement, the man opened the two doors to let out some of the intense heat that had gathered during the morning. He spent some time emptying garbage from seats before helping Steph into the rear seat. "Can you go park your car? You can't leave it there."

After nervously parking the car in an empty space, Rob grabbed his back pack and Steph's over-night bag then sprinted back to the ugly yellow car. By the time he got back the guy was already behind the wheel with the engine running and the air conditioner on full blast.

Rob pulled the passenger seat forward so that he could place their bags in the back seat with Steph, who was curled up and lying down. Steph's bag rolled as he put it down, its contents spilling out onto the floor. 'Ah shit.' Rob shook his head as he quickly re-stuffed the three dildos, leather harness, and four white jars of lubricant back into her bag.

The sound of the driver's side door closing drew Rob's attention. "I'll have to stop and get gas. Sit up front, Rob, I've got some questions for you."

Rob pulled the seat back into place before climbing into the car and closing his own door. "I've got one for you first. Who the hell are you?"

The young guy chuckled as he backed the car up and then pulled out into traffic. "You really don't know, do you?"

"In that case," he extended his right hand across the center console, "I'm Greg, nice to meet you again."

Soldier 11572 waited patiently for his target to exit the catacombs of Ayers Rock. His orders were simple:

1. Prevent the target from leaving the site.
2. Once the artifact was recovered, take possession of it.
3. Dispatch the target and all those loyal to him.
4. Return to base with the artifact and all accumulated data.

Nice clean, clear orders. It sounded so simple, but 11572 knew full well how the simplest of missions could become FUBAR in a matter of moments. Rule number one, never underestimate your enemy. In this case that rule was especially true. Jonathan Reynolds was not a target to take lightly.

As he moved through the darkness towards the canvass tent, six other soldiers moved up to join him. Two other soldiers, Beta Team, had been assigned to a special task, taking up positions outside of the camp. One nestled high above, into a crack in the face of the immense red stone; the other a half mile away on the opposite side of camp, hidden under the cover of darkness and the sparse vegetation. They were part of the contingency plan should anything go wrong.

Should the proverbial shit really hit the fan, a tenth man, Delta Team, was positioned well out of camp. There he would wait out the ensuing battle, and if the balance of power swung to far in the wrong direction, his orders were simple: detonate. One press of the remote, and the camp would light up the night in a blinding white flash. There would be nothing left, nothing living anyway. All of the equipment would still be there, fried but easy enough to recover. More importantly, the artifact would remain intact, and it would be a simple matter of walking back to camp and picking it up out of the ashes.

11572 approached the tent with his team at a steady pace, his eyes constantly on alert for any signs of trouble. It had been ten minutes since Reynolds emerged from the cave displaying the artifact for all to see. 11572 had watched as Reynolds entered the tent with one of his subordinates. By now Reynolds would know that something was up. The subordinate was loyal to him, and would have told him about the latest order handed down by the Council. Both would need to be dispatched as quickly as possible, but not before the artifact was safely in his hands.

Aside from the soldier in the tent, Reynolds had twelve other men who were also loyal to him, but 11572 had sent them on other assignments so they could be dealt with later. Eight of them were now guarding the two check points on the main road. The remaining four were put to patrolling the outskirts of the camp. Close enough for the snipers to hit, but too far to offer assistance should Reynolds call them.

Ten feet from the tent, 11572 got a bad feeling, a gut reaction that he had honed over the years. He snapped up his right arm bent at a ninety degree angle, his fist clenched tight. His men immediately stopped.

It was quiet, too quiet. There should have been some indication that there were two men inside that tent, some piece of conversation carried into the night through the loose door flap, but instead there was silence. Light poured through the tiny gap, but no movement could be detected. Something was definitely up.

"By direct order of the Council, I am to retrieve the artifact from you; by force if necessary."

The night remained silent, even the insects seemed to be holding their breath in anticipation.

Finally a response, "If I give up the artifact, you guarantee that my men will be spared."

"Reynolds, you are in no position to make any demands. Give us the artifact or we will take it from you."

Baiting; a tactic that might have worked on an ordinary soldier but not 11572. His breed would never fall for such a simple ruse. Reynolds had just shown his hand, there was a trap awaiting them inside the tent.

"No more delays, Reynolds. If you don't surrender the artifact, we'll be forced to take it by any means, including the use of pulse grenades. Now give it up."

There was a long pause as the men inside of the tent apparently weighed their limited options.

"Okay, okay. I'm going to pass the artifact out the door, don't get your panties in a bunch."

"No funny business, no surprises, Reynolds. If anything other than the artifact comes through that door..."

"I know, I know. You'll vaporize the tent and everyone in it. Try to remember, I helped to write the book on tactics, at least on tactics as it concerns our kind."

"It's coming out." The tent flap peeled back at one corner just enough to show a hand holding the baseball sized, dark blue orb. The light from inside the tent passed through it, flickered inside of its heart like a summer thunderstorm. "I'm going to roll it to you."

The hand in the doorway moved away before the orb came rolling out, bouncing along the rocky soil until it came to a stop a few inches away from them. The team took a nervous step away from it, expecting some sort of attack.

The obedient soldier knelt on the ground before the round stone. After pulling a device from his belt and passing it over the rock a few times, he turned to face his superior. "Sir, it's not a weapon, could be the real thing."

"Compare it to our video surveillance of Reynolds leaving the temple. Make sure it is an exact match before touching it."

A few moments more passed in silence before the kneeling soldier spoke again. "It's an exact match; one-hundred percent positive according to the computer."

"Pick it up and get it out of here. You two, go with him. Take Aurora Five and get it back to the base. Go."

There was another moment of tension as the soldier touched the sphere for the first time, but when nothing happened, he and his two escorts sprinted to one of the parked Humvees. 11572 waited until the vehicle was safely out of camp and on its way before once again turning his attention to the tent.

"Time to come out now, Jonathan. We can do this quick and easy, or hard; your choice. But it's going to happen, there is no escape."

"Your men are irrelevant. I have my orders, Reynolds, and will follow them to the letter." That gut feeling came back in full force. Reynolds was stalling, but for what reason? He was cut off from his men, surrounded, and he no longer held the artifact.

"Your orders are shit and you know it. This is just a power play. Broddick is behind this, not the Council. He and Donovan are taking over; they are going to ruin sixty years of hard work. When the Dark God comes, and he is going to come, you and your men will be to blame for his unimpeded rule."

"You're wrong, Reynolds! The Council is holding us back. They are the reason why we are in the position that we are in now. Hollister Broddick is the only one among them who has…" 11572 fumed but then stopped before going any further. 'Damn it,' he scolded himself. 'I've just been baited.'

The three remaining soldiers spread out and opened fire on the tent, spraying the tight fabric in a hail of gun fire. Each bullet punched a hole through which a beam of light poured out. The night filled with the sounds of exploding electronics and the sizzling of electricity as circuits were broken.

With the tent of the verge of collapse, 11572 pulled a pulse grenade free from his bandoleer. "Stand clear!"

The soldiers ceased fire and moved a safe distance away as the armed grenade rolled into the tent through the door flap. A high pitched tone emanated from the tent just before the first of a series of blinding bursts of lime green light illuminated the night. The remains of the tent billowed outward like an inflated balloon before settling to the ground in a pile of torn fabric.

As the two men picked through the remains of the tent, 11572 broke radio silence with his two snipers. "Take out the remaining targets."

The words barely passed his lips before an explosion knocked him off his feet. He stared up from the ground as a small fireball rolled up the side of Ayers Rock and a hail of stones rained down on the camp. Off in the distance, well outside of camp, a second fireball lifted into the night sky before burning out.

"You shouldn't have broken radio silence," a familiar voice cut through the ringing in his ears. "We knew they were out there, but we didn't know where."

11572 rolled to his stomach and was on his feet in an instant, weapon raised, but he wasn't fast enough. A sharp blow to his face blinded him and sent him crashing back to the ground, his weapon lost.

The sound of boot steps came rushing into the camp from all directions. Jonathan's men surrounded 11572 and pulled him to his feet, taking care to strip him of his remaining weapons.

"You should have said that you would let my men go. I would have gone easier on you, but you've made your choice. You are with Donovan, and so you are my enemy. You are a traitor to the cause."

11572 spat a mouthful of blood and chipped teeth in the dirt. "You're the traitor, Jonathan, and for that, you'll pay. Delta team, execute."

The solitary soldier code named Delta in this operation, stood as he peered through the night scope at the camp in the distance. He knew that this order would be coming once the snipers had been eliminated. He held the transmitter in his right hand, thumb at the ready for this moment.

'And things seemed to be going so well,' he thought as his thumb applied enough pressure to send the signal. As the ground below his feet began to vibrate, he had one last thought.

Back in camp, 11572 stared wide eyed into the globe of white light that suddenly appeared two miles away on the horizon. "How?"

Jonathan moved between 11572 and the now dwindling blast. "I used your training against you. As I told you, I helped to create these tactics. I knew exactly what you planned, and used it against you; just like I used to do to your superior, Donovan, back when we trained together."

"I used the one thing you wouldn't have expected. The one thing you didn't have a contingency plan for. It never even occurred to you that someone like me would, or even could..."

"The Art!" 11572 gasped as the realization hit him. "But, that's impossible! You're like me. Our kind can't use the Art. It's impossible!"

Jonathan chuckled softly. "You still don't get it, do you? Don't worry, Donovan didn't understand either. That's why he's so against it, he sees anything that he can't do as a threat. We can't manipulate the Art like others do, but we can still use it. We just need someone else to do the work for us."

Jonathan smiled wickedly. "Jimmy, come over here and show him what a person who has been trained in my new tactics can do."

11572 turned toward the sound of the new voice and found one of his own soldiers staring at him with a shit eating grin. The soldier made a strange hand gesture as he spoke a series of unintelligible words. A fine mist of gray formed around him as he spoke, it swirled around until it totally obscured his body from view. There was a crackling sound, like wet wood burning in a fire as the mist dissipated. The man standing over 11572 was no longer one of his own, but the young soldier who had followed Reynolds into the tent.

Jonathan patted his man on the back. "You see, I don't fear the unknown like my brothers and sisters do. The Art is a tool, not a path to evil. We can use it against our enemies, just as they will use it against us. Donovan couldn't grasp that, and I suppose, neither can you. That's good to know, because I have a feeling that this won't be my last run in with your kind."

"Oh, you mean this?" Jon reached into his pocket and pulled out a rather unimpressive black stone. "You didn't think I'd just hand over something as important as the artifact to you, did you?"

Ten miles down road from camp, a Humvee with three soldiers inside drives around in a wide circle at break neck speed. The men inside are unaware that they are going nowhere, circling the same area over and over again. To them, the road leading to Aurora Five still stretches straight off into the distance. They believe this even as the Humvee crashes into a ravine and bursts into flames. They believe this up until the moment the fire's intense heat shatters the orb, but by then, it's too late.