Ascendant Saga Collection: Sci-Fi Fantasy Techno Thriller Brandon Ellis (ebook reader for comics txt) 📖

down on her. “Mom?” Tears welled in Rivkah’s eyes, and she sniffed. “Mom, if you can hear me, I need your help.”

Her body was cold and she shivered. An image of the last time Rivkah saw her mom’s smile came to mind. Her name was Martha and they sat together in their backyard. Martha held eight-year-old Rivkah in her arms and swayed back and forth. The wood porch creaked at every movement, and the black tire that hung from the tree in the backyard seemed to sway back and forth in unison with them. Rivkah watched a bird perched on a worn-down fence in the distance. The bird flew from the fence to the weeds and dirt that blanketed the area they called a yard.

“Mom, I’m going to fly like that bird someday.” She arched her head back and her mom grinned her crooked smile.

She kissed Rivkah’s forehead. “From what I’ve seen with you, little darlin’, you can do anything that heart of yours desires. Every time you do, it’s like a bird singing. Effortless.”

Chock full of compliments, her mom was the opposite of her father. She pushed any semblance of her father away. “Don’t think of him.” Her voice shook. A tear fell from her eye. “What have I turned into?” She’d become contrary to what her mom believed. No longer capable of anything with meaning, Rivkah figured she’d wither to death like her father. And here she was, slunk deep in the shadows hiding from her pursuers. No, they were her killers. Her mom wouldn’t be proud of what her daughter made of herself.

She squished her eyebrows together as more warmth poured into her. Moments ago, she had a hell of a time staying awake. But now she felt revitalized. How? Was it the warmth? Her mom sending healing from the afterlife? Could the most treasured person in her life be her guardian angel?

She straightened, with little pain, as her side and shoulder didn’t ache as much. She touched her shoulder wound. It hurt, but not like minutes ago. She slid a finger against the spot in her side where the rubber bullet had once lodged. A cringe didn’t knot up her face like it would before the strange warm sensation made its way to her. And zero blood. But the lack of blood oozing out of her could be explained—her own body doing its healing processes—but the sudden alleviation of pain couldn’t. Yes, it was still painful, but only half as bad from minutes before.

About to thank her mom, she tightened her lips. She sensed Jaxx. “You’re the gift that keeps on giving,” she said with more than a pinch of sarcasm. Did he want to heal her so he could torture her more? That sick, son of a bitch. She took a deep breath and her body filled with more energy. In so doing, her arms and legs became more alive.

She pushed herself into a standing position and almost lost her balance. By pressing her hand against the wall, she caught herself. Her legs shook. But she had to get down. She couldn’t stay in the hospital wing’s utility closet forever. Sneaking into the launch bay and flying out of this starship in a starfighter or transport was her only escape. An all too monumental task. She figured she’d die before she made it out of the starship, but who the hell cared? No one would miss her and if she miraculously liberated herself from the chains of this craft, she’d fly to a cave somewhere on Earth to crawl into, never to be seen again. Maybe she’d finally get some peace and quiet.

She took a step down the metal shelving. Something hard hit the door and pinged inside the utility closet. She froze, then scooted into the shadows. The door opened and in walked an older man. He pushed a bucket with wheels; a mop inside the bucket.

“God damn, door. You sticking on me again?” The man wore a dark gray cap, black overalls and a gray long sleeve shirt. The door shut behind him. He nudged the mop and bucket to one corner, and grabbed a folded towel off a shelf. He faced the door and went to swipe his badge. The badge dropped to his side, hung slack from a chain on his belt. The man studied the broken door panel. He sighed and unclipped a comm device and brought it to his lips. “Sandy, can you—”

Rivkah dropped from the rafter and landed a fist to the back of the man’s skull. The guy fell like a rag doll. The side of his face slid down the lower portion of the door, squeaking as it did so. With his eyes closed, his head bounced off the hard floor.

“Shit.” She didn’t mean to hit him so hard. “Sorry, old man. But I couldn’t let you compromise my position.”

She pulled off his overalls and slipped off his shirt. After she shoved them on over her jumpsuit, she shrugged. A little baggy, but they’d do. She took off his cap, and fit it on her head.

“This is Sandy. Can you repeat, Maurice?” a voice said through the comm unit.

Rivkah bent down and picked up Maurice’s com. She brought it to her lips and lowered her voice. Her tone was gruff. “Stuck in the closet, Sandy. Help me?”

“You got a cold or something, Maurice?”

“Yes.”

“How did you get stuck in there, anyhow?” Sandy sighed. “Don’t worry. I’m on my way.”

Rivkah tapped her foot as she waited. A few minutes passed, and she leaned against the shelving. The door opened and a short, stout woman about half the size of Rivkah, same outfit as Maurice’s minus the cap, pursed her lips, hands on her hips.

It took a moment for Sandy’s mouth to gape open when she saw Maurice knocked out on the floor. Her eyes met Rivkah’s. “Who—”

Rivkah pulled Sandy inside and pushed her into the shelves. Boxes and toilet paper fell on top of her. She lost balance