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

He pressed the pedal to the floor as bullets sparked against the street and sidewalks. Enemy soldiers fell like dominoes. He sped forward and turned down a street, then floored the brakes.

He went flying forward, the car honking from his chest’s impact against the wheel. “Whoa! Back up, back up, back up.”

He reversed. Foreign jeeps with gunners came his way. He checked Mya. The seatbelt kept her strapped in. Safe.

He turned the wheel and sped down a different street, then zig zagged around abandoned cars, shot to shit, some burning, some already half rubble. A dead, burnt up corpse was in one.

He bit his lip. He and Mya would be like that person if they didn’t get out of here fast.

He hung a right on West 4th Street, never in his life thinking he’d be driving this fast down any inner city.

Jikoooosh!

Jikoooosh!

The ground vibrated. Two jets flew low, way too low. A black one in the lead, a gray, United States military plane on its tail. Then the world shook. The black jet became a fire ball, splitting in two, a wing splintering off, a poof of smoke and debris billowing toward the sky behind several buildings.

The other half careened toward Drew.

“No, no. You gotta be kidding me.”

He put his arm in front of Mya. Half the jet fell faster toward them. He took a right on Gesco Street. The earth trembled from the jet’s impact, a cloud of fire sucked in the air behind them, and a plume of smoke blew outward an instant later.

He hung a left on State Street, skidding out, nearly hitting an abandoned car. A right on Tuckasagee Road. He curled around the long bend. An inner smile overtook Drew. I-85 was in view. Once on the interstate, he’d be heading out of town and to Michael Anderle at Lookout Mountain, Tennessee.

For a minute, everything was calm, except him. He looked down at Mya. She was asleep, probably from the trauma. She rested her cheek against his arm. He placed his knee at the bottom of the wheel, keeping the car straight.

He flicked on the radio.

To his surprise, someone was talking.

“...they aren’t sending help, people. To any of those listening to me, then listen to my words very clearly. They aren’t sending help. Really, you think they are? Then, tell me, where’s our allies? Shouldn’t they have been here by now? Didn’t they see the Chinese coming? We’re losing a piece of our country every single day and the rest of the world sits idly by, laughing their asses off. Our interim President, Jefferson Kennedy, says he’s still in communication with our allies. He suggests they’re sending their forces, but I’m saying if they aren’t here already, they ain’t coming.” It was Bob Larson, the neo-con, racist who claimed he wasn’t a neo-con or a racist. He was still on the air?

Drew merged onto I-85. Not a driver was in sight. Hopefully it would stay that way until he arrived to Tennessee. He didn’t want lines of cars with freaked out people slowing him down.

“The Chinese and the North Koreans are making mincemeat of our military. Half of our guys are on bases overseas, no doubt trying to get to us right now. That’s what I was saying for years. The United States isn’t here to police the world. We were supposed to stay out of foreign entanglements and affairs, just as George Washington practically yelled at our nation to do. And, what are we up to? Crapping all over his intentions, over his genius, and over his years of service to bring us freedom...”

Drew clicked off the radio. He checked his gas.

“Half-full?”

That wasn’t going to get him to Tennessee.

35

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Flood of Dawn, Callisto

Jaxx stared open mouthed at the woman before him. She was lying. She had to be but he couldn’t get a read on her if she was. He shook his head. “Fox is not my brother. And, for crap-sakes, I’m human.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “This guy has been trying to kill me for I don’t know how long.”

Fox stepped forward and brought his fist up, ready to pound Jaxx to the ground.

“Halt.” The woman walked into the dome. “There will be no more fighting.”

“Like you can stop—” Fox fell and jerked back and forth as if an electrical current ran through him like a stun charge from an PR-8. It faded as quickly as it came. He rubbed his head, grunting, sitting on his butt, most likely too pissed to say anything.

The woman addressed Jaxx as if Fox wasn’t in the room. “Your brother is bull-headed with a life mission to spill as much blood as he can. It’s not his fault. He was a good man, just like you, Jaxx. This nastiness has all been trained into him. All his Atlantean leanings have been weeded out. Unlike you. You’ve known for some time that you’re different…”

“I’m not Atlantean.” Jaxx said, not really knowing the difference between an Atlantean and a Human. The Atlanteans had been gone from Earth for so long; perhaps they’d had time to evolve. For all he knew, their DNA had taken a left, instead of a right.

Fox tried to stand.

The woman thrust her hand out, using a strange energy to root him to the ground.

“God dammit. Let me up.”

She shook her head. “My name is Liberty. I am the Master of Atlantis Alta, or in your terms, Callisto.” She put her hands in prayer position. “And, to answer your internal question, Jaxx, you and Fox are indeed Atlantean. The difference between Human and Atlantean is subtle, and with your advance translation skills, I’m surprised you missed that in the Egyptian Stele’s and hieroglyphs. The human race has been genetically manipulated by another species and a similar manipulation continues to this day with the chemicals in your foods and liquids, but we won’t get to that now. The Atlantean race, to which you were both born, has