Anamnesis (c) 
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.

"Just pull up to the exit and... STOP!"

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.

"Holy shit!  Did I hit him?"

"Jesus Christ, Rob!  What did you do?"

"Me? I didn't do shit!  You told me to..."

Steph cut his defense short. "I'd better check to see if he's okay."

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.

"Oh my God!  Are you okay?"

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.

"You... you're supposed to be dead!"

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.

"Thank God!  I thought I killed you!"

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.

BEEEEEP!

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.

"Stephanie, Robbie, Sarah, time to eat!"

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?"

Steph's head whipped towards the guy. "How do you know my brother's name?"

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

Rob cut him off. "My little sister, what's her name?"

"Look, I don't know what's going on here, but..."

"Her name!" Rob practically screamed at him. "What's her God damned name?"

Now the guy looked scared as he stared at Robbie. "Sarah.  Her name's Sarah."

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."

"What?  Who's coming?"

"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."

"Uh, yeah, I guess." Rob turned go but Steph stopped him.

"Don't forget our bags."

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?"

Rob shook his head.

"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.

"All teams, all teams.  Operation is a go.  Alpha Team form up on me."

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.

Snipers.

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.

11572 decided to make the first move. "Jonathan Reynolds!"

No answer.

"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.

"Will you comply?"

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."

"Come on in and try it, you pansies."

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."

A slight smile passed over 11572's lips. 'It's about time he figured that out.'

"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."

"Nice and slow Reynolds, my team can take out that tent before you can blink."

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.

"You," 11572 pointed to one of his men, "check it."

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."

"What about my men?  They have nothing to do with this."

"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.'

"Enough of this," He turned to his men. "Take him out."

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.

11572 needed confirmation. "You two, make sure the job is done."

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.

"Beta team!  Come in Beta!" No response... his snipers were gone.

"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.

'Ah, shit!'

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."

"But... how?  I had you surrounded, outnumbered, cornered.  How did you..."

"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."

"Sure thing, boss."

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."

11572 growled. "You still lost, traitor.  The artifact is in our possession."

"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.



Continued in Chapter Nine....


You can find more of my stories at:
https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Moments_In_My_Mind/www/Index.html

Join my forum and I'll send you an email notification
of when I update my stories:
http://fw13.suddenlaunch3.com/index.cgi

Read what I've been up to on my Blog:
http://fictionwriter13.blogspot.com

Feedback, Questions or Comments can be sent here:
FictionWriter13@msn.com


  
Anam8