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

A thug pointed his crowbar at Drew. “And do what with it? Buy something?” He looked at the other thugs and laughed. “If you have food and supplies. You can have these idiots.” He shoved a thumb at the woman and her kids. “But you’re not getting her car.”

The woman, her infant son on her hip and her daughter firmly in hand, shuffled across the lawn and stood next to Drew. She eyed his bat.

Drew shook his head. If she went for the bat, then all hell would break loose.

She bent down to soothe her son. “It’s okay, honey. You’ll be fine. You’re safe. Mommy won’t let them hurt you.” She ran her fingers through his hair. She trembled and wiped his tears as she clenched her teeth. Drew could imagine the murderous thoughts she had.

“Well?” said one of the men. “Shall we come in?” This one was sophisticated, his demeanor was that of a professor.

Drew stepped to the side, motioning them to take whatever they wanted inside his home. But the weed, not the weed. He forgot about the weed.

He rubbed the back of his neck, realizing his mistake. He should have just gone in and got them some supplies and had it done with—maybe that would have worked.

He took a step closer to the woman. “Are you okay?”

“What am I going to do? How am I going to drive and get there? My husband said west. We gotta go west.” She frantically wiped her son’s hair, his face, whatever she could get her hands on.

“I can drive you. I’m leaving soon and going west as well.”

She paused, eyes welled. “Thank you. It’s far. It’s a safe place.”

A safe place already? What the hell happened while I was inside?

The men came out a moment later with a few bags of bread, some cookies, and a bowl full of fruit and vegetables. Drew had brought a bunch of food home from the funeral. He had no idea it’d be in hot demand. He’d let the world slip away and unravel a little. He needed to buck the fudge up. Mom was right. He needed to do something.

The Professor jangled a set of keys in his hand. “Thank you for your car.”

Drew stiffened, then walked toward the man, his heart skipping a beat. He needed the car, even more than his dank.

The man swung the crowbar at Drew. Drew back peddled. “All right, all right. Take one car. But leave us the other.”

The man grinned. “Hey, Sal. You think we should give them one of our prized possessions?”

A man, who must be Sal, sat in the woman’s car. “Nope. Not a chance.”

The two cars gunned down the street and out of their lives, leaving Drew and a mother and her two children, eating their dust.

9 J-Quadrant, Solar System - Callisto

This isn’t happening. I’m going to die.

XO Katherine Bogle had been ripped out of Star Warden by the vacuum of space, the mighty Star Carrier torn apart and buckled in on itself. She’d told Admiral Gentry Race not to do it, not to deploy the nuclear war-head at an unknown civilization on a Jupiter moon. On Callisto.

He did. And it backfired.

You killed your crew. You killed yourself. You killed me.

Three seconds into the void of space and Bogle hurtled toward the Callisto atmosphere. She closed her eyes and clamped her mouth shut. If she kept them open, her eyes and tongue would boil, like Arnold on Mars in 'Total Recall'. Or so she thought. Without a space suit, she’d feel the worst effects of space and she’d rather pass out before those effects took hold; her lymph, bladder, and blood would double in size, her lungs would rupture, and she’d freeze to death. Then there was the approaching Callisto atmosphere. Consciously burning up wasn’t something she wanted to experience, either, even if she had about twelve seconds of conscious life left. If that. If she wasn’t conscious when death grabbed hold, when it took her final heartbeat, the better.

Five seconds and the deep-freeze of the cosmos would engulf her, the oxygen inside her expanding, her body ballooning.

Gentry, the diabolical jerk, pulled the trigger and she paid the ultimate price for his sin. Nearly ten-thousand of Star Warden’s crew paid the ultimate price for his foolishness.

Eight seconds.

In eight more seconds, she’d pass out. At least, that’s what physics class had taught her. And in less than a minute, after she passed out, her trachea would collapse, she’d asphyxiate, and suffocate to death.

Just do it now. God, please take me. God, please. Don’t torture me.

Twelve seconds and a warm liquid surrounded her, as if she’d fallen into a pool. Instinctively, she opened her eyes. She was under water. It was thick and spongy, with a tinge of amber.

This isn’t water. What’s happening? Is this death?

She heard a splash that wasn’t her own. It was the type of splash you heard when you were in a pool and already underwater. Hands—white gloves, and white sleeves—reached for her.

An angel. An angel came for me. I’m going to heaven. Thank you, God. Thank you.

Her faith ran deep and wide. She’d always known God would not abandon her. She reached for the gloved hands as they reached for her. As their fingers met, the etheric Being’s face came into view.

No, that wasn’t a face.

She lurched back. A white helmet, black visor. That was no angel. Was this a demon, a taker of souls?

“No,” Bogle shouted, bubbles exiting her mouth, escaping to the surface. She flailed, kicking and scratching and snapping at the demon. The thick liquid slowed her attempts, like a boxer fighting in a ring of Jello.

The demon reached for her, grabbed her arms, its grip firm. It reversed course and swam in the direction from whence it came, pulling Bogle along with it through the molasses-thick liquid. Bogle swung her hips around and kicked, landing a solid foot against its stomach.

The demon didn’t waver, continuing to pull her in the direction he chose.

She