Ki Book One (26 page)

“
Don’t get too close,” the Major added with
a roar.

“
You are all going to die,” Max could
hardly move his mouth. His teeth were clenched with violent
emotion, desperation and hatred powerful and obvious.
“
You
bastards are all going to die for this
.”

Jackson had seen Max acting before. The
way the man had so smoothly and seamlessly slipped into the role of
Archer Reed, the way he’d tried to goad Jackson into overreacting
in the mine shaft
– Max
was way more than a dumb grunt. Now all that control was gone. He
seethed with uncontrollable rage.

“
You have no idea who you are messing with.
The Zeneethians will destroy you all for this. None of you will be
safe,” Max stood with his arms limp at his sides, his shoulders
rounded, but his face and neck rigid. “You will all be wiped from
history. Your families will be wiped from history. Every record of
you ever existing will be changed. We will even alter the memories
of your friends. You have no way to fight us.”

“
Shut up, prisoner,” the Major reached the
group, though came no closer than five meters from Max. With a
controlled but wary expression, he told his men to keep their
distance yet again.

“
They’re going to come for you,” Max took a
step forward and nodded at the Major. “You should be worried about
more than your career. You’ve just condemned your entire
nation.”

“
Don’t listen to him, men,” the Major
snapped. “Prepare the transport. Get the tranquilizer dart. You are
going to be questioned, prisoner. You will tell us everything you
know. There will be no escape.”

Max did not respond. He ticked his head to
the side and shook it slowly. Then he straightened up, some control
returning to his features, but not enough to dampen his slackened,
palpable shock.

Seconds later he was shot in the back of the
neck with a dart, then another when it was clear he would not fall.
Blinking, eyes bleary, he stumbled to one knee. How he was still
conscious, Jackson did not know, but eventually he slumped
forward.

Cautiously several guards moved in and
handcuffed him, even wrapping along leather strap around his arms
and torso to ensure there was no way he could break free. Then he
was taken to a waiting car.

Jackson watched him the entire time, when
the car rumbled to life and its clean tires crunched over the rough
bitumen, he turned to the Major. “You are going to need to keep
complete radio silence. The second you send a call saying you’ve
taken him into custody, they’ll swoop down.”

The Major stood erect, his hands behind
his back, his broad chest puffed out against his clean-cut
uniform
. “I will not
take orders from you. Though it appears you were right about Archer
Reed, you have not yet been absolved of your charges. You will be
taken to Avictus Island where you will await trial.”

Jackson forced himself to calm down before
his frustration could peak any higher
. “He did exactly what I said he would. Now I’m
telling you, if you tell anyone where you’re taking—”

“
Enough. Take him onto The Pasquada.” The
Major turned and walked away without another word.

Jackson was taken down to the other end of
the port and loaded onto a different ship. When he was aboard, she
set sail. At the same time the Maqueda also left berth. The two
ships headed out into the bay then set sail in opposite
directions.

Chapter
Seventeen

Aboard the ship, Jackson was not allowed out
of his room. His quarters were nothing but a storage compartment.
He had to make his bed between wooden crates filled with cans and
bottles. Though the bottles were made of a thick, dark glass, he
knew better than to break one and try to use it as a weapon against
the Guards; there was no way off the ship. Plus, he still needed
the Major.

He had something Jackson wanted.

He spent most of the voyage staring out of
the tiny porthole above his ramshackle bed. It offered a view of
the choppy ocean beyond and the clouds fleeting through the sky
above.

It took almost eight days until they sighted
land. Though it was a dark night and a vicious storm had whipped
up, Jackson saw the slices of white light shifting across the wild
waves and over the side of the ship. He pushed himself up from his
bed, the tarpaulin he’d been using as a blanket falling at his
feet. Running to the window, he jumped up on a crate to get a
better view. In the distance, he could see a lighthouse.

Grabbing onto the rim of the rounded
porthole, he craned his neck down and saw flashes of dark,
sharp-looking rocks close to the ship.

They’d finally arrived. Avictus Island...
he’d only ever heard of it. An old prison, it had been converted
into a military facility by the Government before the last
war.

As forks of lightning flashed down from
the raging storm above, he saw snippets of the island lit up. Dark
rocks led up to a sharp rock wall. On top sat a daunting, huge
building. Castle-like, it had numerous turrets, each mounted with
powerful lights that scanned the sky in sweeps.

It looked like something out of a
nightmare.

Prying himself from the view, Jackson
straightened up. Running a hand over his short, stubbly beard, he
tried not to be put off by his own smell. If he ever got out of
this situation, he’d have a shower. A long one. He’d also throw
away his clothes and take the time to shave with a cut-throat
razor. He always liked to be clean and neat, but he’d known better
than to request shaving equipment from the Guards.

The ship swayed as it came into port. The
waves pounded the hull, the vibrations shifting up through each
pillar, strut, and floor, and shaking Jackson as he stood there.
Locking his hand onto a crate for stability, he heard footsteps
outside of his door.

Without a word it was opened and he was
ushered out. With two armed Guards at his tail, he was taken
through the ship, onto the prow, down the shaking gangway, and onto
solid land.

The wind and rain lashed him, sending
rivulets off his nose and trickling into his mouth. Shaking his
head now and then to shift it from his hair, he followed every
order he was given.

With forks of lightning stabbing through
the sky and the roar of the ocean behind, he was led up shear,
steep steps to the facility beyond. Soldiers in wet-weather gear
were spread at even intervals, expressions and stances dauntless
despite the screaming wind and drenching rain.

As he neared a solid, but rusted metal door,
it grated open and he was marched inside.

When it closed behind him, the sound of the
storm turned into a muffled yowling, the thick walls of the
building holding it back with ease.

In silence he was marched through narrow,
musty corridors with unmarked doors, up old, worn steps, and
finally to a simple room.

The door was closed and locked behind him,
and again Jackson found himself standing in a small, narrow space.
At least this time the floor did not sway beneath him though.

Settling down onto the single chipped wooden
chair in the corner, he crossed his arms, hunkered his neck down,
and waited.

The Major would no doubt come to see him
soon.

Then Jackson would have to start making some
decisions.

Chapter
Eighteen

She awoke to a blinding headache. Shifting
backwards, her arms heavy and hard to move, she forced her bleary
eyes to open.

There was an unfamiliar ceiling above
her.

Ki did not know where she was and could not
remember how she’d gotten there.

Panic bursting through her lethargy, she
tried to sit up. Staring at the room around her, she noted the pale
blue medical curtains, the softly beeping equipment by her side,
and the tubes in her arms.

A half-choked scream twisting through her
throat, she clutched at the drip lodged into the back of her hand
and tried to yank it free, her fingernails scratching at the
medical tape that held it in place.

The curtains were yanked back and several
men and women raced in. One man pinned her shoulders while someone
else yanked her hands down.

“
Calm down,” a woman said from by the
curtain, one tensed hand clutched on the fabric. “You’ve been
unconscious.”

Ki shifted back, shoulders digging into the
thin mattress supporting her. With a sharp groan she tried to
struggle free.

She was too weak and the hands that pinned
her down were too numerous.

“
Calm down or you will be drugged again,”
the woman by the curtain snapped.

Where was she? How had she ended up
here?

As crippling fright ripped through her
fatigue, Ki desperately tried to remember what had happened to
her.

The last thing she could recall was being
on the dock with the Major and his men... then...
then....

With a breathy scream, Ki tried to clutch at
her chest.

She’d been shot.

She could not move her hand high enough to
check her breast and stomach, but as she struggled, she realized
there was no pain. A heavy drugged feeling, yes, but no throbbing
agony.

“
What happened to me? Where am I?” she
began to lose her fight.

A dull feeling started to course through her
veins. It brought with it a blanket that seemed to cover her body
and pin her down. Blinking slowly, she looked up at the figures
around her.

“
How did I... get here...?” her words were
groggy, her lips hard to move, her tongue heavy in her
mouth.

“
By ship,” the woman answered
clearly.

Ki tried to ask another question, but she
could no longer open her eyes, let alone make a noise.

The last thing she heard was a curt “go
and get the Major.”

Chapter
Nineteen

Jackson did not have to wait long before
his door was thrust open with no
knock and no warning. The walls of this building
were made of thick concrete and brick, and insulated sound almost
perfectly. The roar of the storm was nothing but a distant memory,
though he knew academically it would still be raging
outside.

Someone flicked a switch and a light hummed
on from above. Shifting his head down so the sudden illumination
didn’t irritate his eyes, Jackson squinted at the door.

In walked the Major. He was no longer in
the neat uniform of the Guards – he was wearing standard camouflage
fatigues. He still wore the same expression though, a controlled
and refined anger.

“
I want to see her,” Jackson stood up, the
chair shifting into the wall behind him.

He hadn’t once asked about Ki since he’d
been loaded onto the Pasquada, though thoughts of her had all but
consumed him. He’d known none of the Guards would tell him a
thing.

The Major, however, was in charge.

“
I take it the Zeneethians think she’s
dead. They haven’t come for her? You haven’t mentioned anything
about her in any dispatches?” Jackson stepped forward, wiping his
suddenly sweaty hands on his pants with a nervous
twitch.

“
For a man who claims to be loyal to his
country, you are overly concerned with a Tarkan,” the Major
answered coldly.

“
Just tell me, did everything go according
to plan? Is she okay?” Jackson shifted forward again, his moves
jerky and anxious.

A single thought threatened to cripple him.
What if the Major really had shot Ki back at that port?

When the Major had come to see Jackson the
night before his supposed execution, he’d talked him into acting
against Max. The Major had wanted proof that the so-called Archer
Reed was a double agent, and Jackson had devised a way to furnish
him with that evidence. By pretending to kill Ki, Jackson had
wagered that Max would drop his act.

His wager had paid off. Yet there was always
the chance that the Major had actually killed her.

It was torture waiting to find out.

“
Is she... is she,” Jackson gulped. He knew
he should not be showing so much emotion for her. The Major was
right; for a man trying to prove his loyalty, Jackson should have
no concern for the enemy.

It could not be helped though. His feelings
were too strong to control.

“
She was kept in an induced coma for the
trip. My medical personnel are trying to rouse her. She will then
face a thorough physical examination. I want to know why they want
her.”

Jackson almost grabbed a hand to the back of
his chair to steady himself, relief coursing through him.

At least she was alive.

“
You followed the plan,” Jackson’s voice
wavered as he gave a heavy sigh. “I was never really sure if you
trusted me.”

“
I don’t trust you,” the Major countered
quickly. “But I trust Archer Reed less.”

“
Trust? He’s still alive?”

“
Archer Reed has disappeared. So has the
unit that was guarding him. Approximately eight hours after he was
taken to a holding cell, we assume he was broken out. Though there
are no signs of battle, there are no signs of my men either.
Everyone in that building disappeared. Despite how heavily guarded
it was, and despite the counter measures we had in place, he’s
gone.”

Jackson let his hand slip off the back of
the chair, not caring as his fingers snagged at the wood, splinters
breaking off into the skin. He did not pluck them out
– he simply stood and stared.
“How did they find him?”