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

chance to be part of history, erased in the blink of an explosion.

But, it didn’t happen. He knew it. He saw through Slade’s bullshit fake-out. He also knew no one would believe him. No one.

51

June 11thUnknown

“Lift your leg really high, Jaxx.”

Jaxx’s mind was coming around, though he hadn’t a clue where he was.

Slade led him, with a bag of some type over his head not allowing him to see a damn thing. The bag was tied softly around his neck, enough for him to breath—how thoughtful of them—but not enough for him to slip it off.

He lifted his leg, though weary and weak. His toe hit a ledge. He stumbled, but his foot landed back on the floor almost immediately, which meant he’d just crossed some sort of threshold. Maybe. He needed data, if he was going to find out where he was and where they were taking him. He could neither smell, nor see anything through the bag. He needed sound. He stomped his foot, hard, with his next step. Good. The reverb was metallic. There was also an echo. They could be in a small building. A warehouse of some kind. But metal floors? What had metal floors? He shivered. “Meat locker” was the first thing that came to mind.

Slade pushed him into a chair, then strapped a harness over his shoulders, crossing his chest and hips. He then tethered Jaxx’s forearms to the arm rests.

“Where are we?” Jaxx heard the panic in his own voice.

“You’ll be fine, Jaxx. Be calm or I’ll knock you out again.”

Slade walked away, shutting the door behind him.

“Slade?” said Jaxx.

No answer.

He dropped his chin to his chest, feeling a wave of nausea. Throwing up in the bag would be beyond shitty.

A door opened and two sets of shoes clacked against the floor. No, not shoes. Boots. Shiny boots, I bet.

“Who’s there?” Jaxx asked. “Can you help me?”

“It’s Slade, Jaxx. No need to ask me for help. You ain’t getting any.”

“There are two people here. Who’s with you?”

“Captain Richard Fox.”

Jaxx tightened.

“Don’t worry, numb nuts,” Fox said, a hint of laughter in his voice. “I’m not here to mess you up.”

They took the bag off Jaxx’s head.

Jaxx’s eyes adjusted to a dimly-lit room. The windows were covered with blackout material, as was the ceiling.

Slade winked. “Time to go.” He dug into his pocket, taking out a piece of gum, then popped it in his mouth. He folded his arms. “Don’t be nervous.”

Jaxx’s breathing was shallow, his eyes darting from Slade to Fox. “What’s happening?”

Fox grinned, looking at Slade. “This is fun. Can I stay here and watch?”

Slade rubbed his hands together, then checked his watch. He turned and exited through the curtains. A glimpse of a white, rounded wall caught Jaxx’s eye through the curtain opening.

Slade came back, holding a helmet with a black visor and a large, thick, space-age looking sleeping bag. He handed the helmet and bag to Fox.

Jaxx tried to kick Fox, but the restraints held him at bay. “What’s going on?”

Slade stared down at his empty palms, his eyes glazed. The guy was tired, as if he’d been up for days. “The rest of the world thinks we blew up right after the launch. You, on the other hand, are the first to see that we haven’t.”

Jaxx tilted his head. “Launch?”

Slade bent down, his face only inches from Jaxx’s. The minty-fresh gum did nothing for his drinking-too-much-whiskey breath. “What have I told you about that echo, Jaxx?”

Jaxx nodded. The man was coming unhinged. Jaxx needed to tread lightly. “Can you at least tell me where I am?”

“Classified,” Slade replied.

Fox placed the helmet over Jaxx, and everything went dark, the black visor blocking all light.

Someone—had to be Fox, he would enjoy being rough—undid the straps that held him to the chair. Fox yanked him to his feet and wrapped him in that space-age sleeping-bag-thingie they’d brought in with them.

“This will just take a moment,” Slade said. His voice was muted by the helmet.

The two men messed around with Jaxx’s helmet and adjusted the bag. Jaxx heard two clicks, fastening the bag to his helmet. Then they strapped him back to his chair. Assholes.

Fox and Slade walked away. The door slammed. Again. His life had become a series of slamming doors. What kind of slam was it, though? A heavy door. Heavy, with multiple locking mechanisms. The shape of the door frame, the heavy blankets all around the room, the sound that door made.

He wasn’t in a warehouse.

He was in a freaking spaceship.

Jaxx took a deep breath, fresh oxygen filling his lungs.

“I am going to Callisto,” he screamed. No one hears you in a spaceship. “I am going to Callisto, wearing a suit designed for prisoners.”

The room tilted back… back… back… until Jaxx was horizontal. “Yeah,” he said. “D-day.”

The vibrations were bone-shaking. Even his teeth rattled in their sockets. Way behind him, there was that loud, continuous roar. “Engines are primed. We are ready for lift off.”

Jaxx swayed forward, the shaking almost addling his brain. He tried to scream, but he couldn’t.

Gravity pressed against him like no force he’d ever felt. It pressed on his shoulders and chest, like a boulder slowly crushing him. It was mounting, more pressure every passing second. The ship accelerated.

Jaxx was certain he was about to be pulverized. They must have gotten the calibrations wrong. Surely not all space travel was like this? He tried to contract the muscles around his rib cage, to protect his lungs. He desperately wanted to remain conscious. He’d blacked out far too many times. Now was the time to stay awake, alert, in control of his life. If they would only listen to him, he would tell them how to design a ring of pyramids and save Earth. He shook his head. Earth would be fine. She always was. It was man who was going to suffer.

He forced his eyelids open and flew directly into the dark.

52

June 12thCharlotte, North Carolina

Drew wheeled his mother on the cement path,