Axiom Theory: Book Four of the Shadow Series Page 3

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  The day had drifted lazily by and Test found himself grateful that the sun had set. He had grown used to life without television and actually found it more of a comfort not to know what was going on in the world. Though they did have a radio, he chose instead to immerse himself in reading. The one new bit of technology that he’d acquired was an e-book reader. Every night, he sat on the couch and got lost in an alternate world that the author provided him.

  His new favorite series, Sands of Time by Monique Martin, was exactly what he needed. With the latest installment just released, he dove into Thursday’s Child, anxious to disappear. He wished that he had the ability of the main characters; to travel back in time and change things. There were so many things in his past that he wished he could fix. “Who knows,” he often thought to himself. “Two years ago I would have thought flying was just a fantasy.” Secretly he wished for many things.

  Test and Alyssa sat quietly next to each other, each reading on their own. Alyssa held a hardcover that Test had bought for her at a thrift store the last time he’d gone into town for food. It was a small collection of poems by Robert Frost. He wasn’t sure if she’d like it or not, but he found it to be amazing after reading only the first few poems, and decided it was worthy of being a gift.

  Minutes turned into an hour, and an hour turned into two. Test’s eyes began to get heavy and the words on the screen were more and more difficult to keep in focus.

  Alyssa could feel it whenever Test began to doze off as the small amount of energy that he provided for her faded. With her book in her hands, she watched as his chin slowly dropped to his chest. In the next moment, the book she was holding slipped through her hands, through her thighs, and fell with a thud to the cushion beneath her. Before he entered a deep sleep, and before his energy faded completely, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Good night,” she whispered. “I love you.”

  The night was a lonely time for Alyssa. While Cliff did provide some company, it was often a strained conversation. After all, spending every night together in the same place tends to create a lack of new and interesting things to talk about. Though she would never admit it to Test, night time was a time that she missed being alive. She felt trapped while he slept and wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him, to feel the warmth of his skin and the rise and fall of his chest as he took slow and peaceful breaths.

  Night time was also a time for reflection, but that was something she felt she had too much of. Tonight’s reflection was focused on the visitors that they would receive the next morning. She was anxious to see Lauren. They had an odd relationship, it was true, but they had found a common ground just before Kansas City and Alyssa was anxious to have another woman to talk to again.

  She lifted from the couch, glancing back to Test with a smile. “Time for a walk,” she thought to herself, noting that she wouldn’t walk at all. Drifting to the window looking out over the front of their property, she pushed through the wall and out into the darkness.

  Chapter 5

  Though it was a regular occurrence, it took Test a moment to realize why his back was sore. He’d fallen asleep on the couch, again. Standing slowly to avoid being dizzy, he stretch his arms to the ceiling and let out a loud yawn. He scratched the two days’ worth of stubble on his chin and scanned the room for the presence of anyone, spirit or otherwise. Finding that he was alone, he walked to the front door while rubbing bits of sleep from the corner of his eyes.

  He stepped out the door and closed his eyes, relying on the Shadow’s gift to feel the presence of a spirit or another Shadow. Again, he felt nothing. Not until he turned back into the house.

  From the direction of the kitchen, he could feel the slightest of pushes on his torso. Immediately he realized that their visitors had arrived and that Alyssa and Cliff were with them. The pull of a spirit in close proximity had the ability to almost cancel out the push of a Shadow. With the push winning out over the pull, Test’s interest was piqued.

  As he strode into the kitchen, he found Prim, Lauren, and Ikuhabe sitting at the table as Alyssa served them each a cup of coffee. Cliff sat at the end of the table in a sort of patriarchal position.

  Initially shocked to see Iku, Test was quick to remember the good that Iku had done in Kansas City. Still, he found it hard to forget that he’d nearly lost his life to Iku and Anil not long before.

  Without a word from anyone, Test looked to Alyssa who held out a cup of coffee for him. Test walked calmly to her and cradled the warm cup in his hands. With his back to the table, he asked, “So, what brings you our way, Iku?”

  His words and tone brought an uncomfortable silence to the room.

  Struggling with the moment, Alyssa yearned to ease the tension. “Test thought maybe Lauren was going to announce that she was pregnant,” she said, the words spilling out of her mouth before she could even think about what she was saying. A nervous giggle followed until she looked at Lauren whose eyes burned fiercely in her direction. She looked around the room and realized that no one else was amused.

  “Why don’t you have a seat Test,” said Prim as he held out his hand. With a small pulse of energy he pushed the chair across from him out from beneath the table.

  Test turned to Prim, still cautious of why they were there. “I’m good, thanks.”

  True to form, Lauren barked, “You should sit.”

  With a chuckle and a smile, Test replied. “Good to see you too, sis. Nice to know you haven’t lost your edge.”

  He walked to the table and sat in the chair Prim had presented. The instant his behind touched the seat, the chair flew forward causing his ribs to collide with the tables edge and his coffee to spill.

  “Good to see you too, little brother,” she replied with a smirk, her right hand still showing the light from the moderate pulse used to push in Test’s chair.

  As his ribs ached, Test glanced to Lauren, unable to keep a smile from his lips as he saw the look on her face. He knew this was just how she was. The time they’d been apart had changed things back to the way they were in the beginning. He knew it would just take time for her to settle down and warm back up to him. That was his hope anyway.

  Being the good hearted man that he was, Cliff tried to break the tension. “So, what brings you all to New Mexico?” he asked.

  Prim, Lauren, and Iku glanced to one another, but none of them answered.

  Leaning forward in his chair, Cliff spoke to Iku. “My name is Cliff. I don’t believe we’ve ever been properly introduced.”

  With a show of respect, Iku bowed his head and replied. “I’m pleased to meet you. My name is Ikuhabe. Friends may call me Iku.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Ikuhabe,” replied Cliff with a wink and a nod of his own.

  Iku bowed his head once more. “Please, as I said, friends may call me Iku. If you are here, you must be a friend.”

  The old man chuckled. “Fair enough; pleased to meet you, Iku.”

  “Okay, okay,” interrupted Lauren, clearly annoyed. “That’s great; now we’re all friends. Can we move on now?” Turning to Test, she continued. “Here’s the deal…”

  “Lauren,” interrupted Prim as he rested a hand on her forearm. “Please, let me?”

  Lauren glanced down at Prim’s hand and then scowled back at him.

  “Please?” asked Prim with as much honey in his voice as he could muster.

  Without answering, Lauren slumped in her chair and sulked like a child that was just scolded.

  “Okay,” said Test in a booming voice. “Let’s just cut the crap. It’s not that I don’t enjoy your company, but why don’t you tell me why the hell you are really here?”

  With a deep breath and a final glance at Iku, Prim began to tell Test of the twins’ resurgence and Iku’s surveillance. As he told Test of the child, the room grew tense with silence and, though it was obvious to Prim that Test had a million questions, he was grateful that he was allowed to finish before they were a
sked.

  “Not only is this child apparently a Shadow, he is growing at an exponential rate,” said Prim, his voice now terse. Struggling with telling Test the entire truth, he hesitated long enough for Test to ask his first question.

  “What does that mean—‘exponential growth’?”

  Lauren bit her lip, but couldn’t stop the sarcastic giggle from escaping. “What do you think it means?” she asked as she rolled her eyes. “The last time Iku saw the kid, he looked like he was four. The problem is that Capser and Ashley took him a little over a year ago and when he was only an infant.”

  Just the sound of Lauren’s voice had begun to cause Test’s heart rate to increase, but his mind was racing trying to grasp everything that he’d been told. “How is that possible?” he mumbled to himself, not expecting anyone to answer. He knew that each Shadow brought their own gifts into the world, his being greater than most. Though he knew that the question was open-ended, he asked it anyway. “I thought Shadow’s didn’t get their powers until later on? I thought that was why Isaac wanted me in the first place—because my power came in at a young age. Is it possible that this kid is like me?” he asked.

  Prim quickly shot a look to Lauren whose mouth was already opened, poised to stick the white hot iron of the possible truth into Test’s already frazzled mind. With his attention on her, and before either of them spoke, Iku replied to Test.

  “I suppose that is possible, but I have another theory. We do not know if his growth rate will remain steady or if it will accelerate. What is most concerning, my young friend, is that the child appears to be the spitting…”

  “None of that is really important right now,” interrupted Prim with a cough. “The concern is what Casper and Ashley intend to do with the child.” He cast a wide eyed glare at Iku, practically begging him to stop his line of thought.

  “But that’s not everything,” interjected Lauren as she spun in her chair towards Prim.

  Prim tried to touch her arm once again, but Lauren ripped it away. Holding his hand up, he replied. “That’s all that’s important for now. Patience.”

  Exploding from the table, Lauren pushed herself away and stood over Prim while glancing back and forth between he and Iku. “Fine! The next time you two come up with a plan, maybe you’ll include me!”

  In a white hot flash, Lauren phased and left everyone shielding their eyes. As the light vanished, the three Shadow’s left in the room stared blankly at the center of the table; Test, waiting to hear what Prim obviously didn’t want him to know, while Iku and Prim struggled with what to do next.

  Chapter 6

  Agent Christopher Dawson sat with a smoldering cigarette in one hand and a nearly empty glass of whiskey in the other. The ashtray on the end table to the right of the couch was overflowing; the remains of the cigarette he’d finished moments before still had wisps of smoke coming from it like a miniature tornado.

  Sitting in a nearly dark room, he stared at the only picture he had of his family. His wife, Madison, had left him six months ago to the day. He couldn’t blame her. He knew he was an ass and that he’d given her nothing since the fateful day he’d encountered a young man in Nebraska.

  In the picture, standing in front of Madison, was his son. He must have been eight or nine years old when the picture was taken. Mark had grown up to follow in his dad’s footsteps and joined the army right out of high school. Dawson was proud and, even though his wife disapproved of their son’s decision, he encouraged his son. This in of itself could have been what began the rift that would eventually lead to the end of their marriage. Less than one year after enlisting, Mark was sent to Afghanistan. Two months later he was returned to his parents in a coffin. It was that day that changed who Dawson was.

  He remembered playing catch with Mark in the yard. They would throw for hours at a time, sometimes not even realizing that the sun had set until the mosquitoes had begun devouring them bit by bit. Those were the best times of his life, yet even these memories couldn’t bring a smile to his face. They were long gone. Everything was gone.

  Stationed in Ft. Riley, Kansas, Dawson had become one of the higher ranking members of an elite group that the world knew nothing about. They called themselves the Cattlemen, part in homage to the history of the state in which they resided, part due to the fact that they were the ones called upon to round up and capture those that the government deemed eligible for removal from the planet. He took pride in his work. It was all he considered valuable. He and Madison’s relationship had ended (for all intents and purposes) so he immersed himself in a world of darkness that served as a cloak that shielded him from the painful loss of his son.

  He’d served and lead dozens of missions, none of which he remembered (or possibly regretted) more than the one in Nebraska. It was a warm, sticky Kansas evening when the phone rang. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was only two in the morning. With a grumble, he picked up the phone and listened to the words that were spoken, but it wasn’t until he blinked several times that any of them made sense.

  He was told by his superior that something had happened in Lincoln, Nebraska, the afternoon before and that he was to mobilize his team immediately. When he asked about their target, he was not fazed when he was told it was a male teen. Many of their targets were of the same gender and general age; terrorists started younger every year it seemed, though not many popped up in the middle of the plains.

  Within two hours his team consisting of ten warriors was fully mobilized. A trio of specially modified Blackhawk helicopters roared through the clouds side by side with Dawson sitting in the lead reviewing the intelligence that was provided.

  He opened up his laptop and inserted the USB drive into it. His screen came to life with a list of videos and text links. The first link read “KLKN-TV”. He quickly clicked on the line and the video began with a woman standing in the middle of what looked like a parking lot. Behind her, cars were smashed into each other as though a bull dozer had come through to clean up. He quickly plugged in his headphones and listened to the newswoman speak. He listened the first time through, thinking it must be some kind of a joke or a prank. The woman spoke of a local teen that had superhuman powers. She spoke of him being able to fly and to move things without even touching them as she pointed to the pile of vehicular carnage behind her. She claimed he used some kind of energy or supernatural force.

  He continued to click down the list of icons on the screen until he’d read or watched every bit of information. He couldn’t comprehend the truth in any of it. Axioms, to Dawson, had always been an absolute, whether anyone else saw things the same way he did or not. He’d always known (as did most every other sane person on the planet, he postulated) that humans didn’t fly. They didn’t do any of the things that this boy was supposedly able to do. Even so, it wasn’t long until theories started populating his mind.

  “Huh,” he grunted to himself, inaudible to the rest of the passengers. “What the hell is going on?”

  He struggled with how he was going to brief his team on their mission. His orders were clear; capture the youth, alive if possible. He knew his men were logical, dedicated, and organized. However this mission was different than any other they’d ever embarked on before. Nearly everything but the identity of the target was unknown. Worse, the details read like something out of a comic book.

  The first time he saw Test Davis in person was the night that he’d come to rescue his friend, Clifford Johnston, from the armory in Lincoln. It was then that he learned that none of this was fairy tale—it was all reality. He lost several men to Davis—good men. Though it wasn’t the first time he’d lost a soldier, it was the first time that he’d failed to apprehend the target. He then made it his life’s mission to either capture, or kill, this creature named Test. He couldn’t live with theories of what he was. He had to know the truth. He had to form a new axiom.

  Dawson’s next opportunity wouldn’t come until a year later. After losing him in Lincoln, he scoured the cou
ntry and kept an eye on the world, waiting for the boy (or whatever he was) to resurface. Finally, the day came when his attention was drawn to Wisconsin. It was there that he’d achieved his greatest feat in capturing Test. Not only was he able to capture him alive, but he was able to restrain him so that tests could be run. He was finally going to know what this boy was.

  Though nothing of what had become truth seemed logical, his first theory was that Test was an alien. He found it hard for himself to even speak of his theory, but what else could it be?

  He waited and watched as the old Russian scientist, Professor Gusyeva, studied and watched the results of countless tests performed on their subject’s body. When the DNA results came back as human, Dawson became enraged. It just wasn’t possible and he couldn’t force his mind to accept anything otherwise. It wasn’t until the scientist’s explanation of how Davis’s genetic code being in error caused his powers that he suddenly felt differently.

  Learning that Test Davis was human created what Dawson saw as the most unique and powerful situation ever imagined. He saw Davis as an opportunity—an opportunity to spearhead the creation of the most dangerous weapon the world could possibly imagine. Things were not to go completely as planned, however, as Test revealed a previously unknown power.

  The security footage from the day Davis escaped showed the subject releasing a massive amount of energy from his core. Moments later, with a blinding flash of light, the screen went blank. When the picture returned, Davis was gone. No doors were opened, no wall destroyed; it was as though he had just walked through them. It was due to this power that the project had become known as “Project Ghost”.

  While the escape was a black eye on Dawson’s record, his scientist had enough genetic material to proceed with attempting to clone a “ghost”. The science had been around for decades, and though the world didn’t know it, human clones had been made dozens of times within the last five years by the United States alone. It was a fact that the global community could never know. It was also a fact that, once Dawson’s superiors learned of the potential of Project Ghost, they had handed control over eagerly. Dawson and his team were given everything that they requested. Every resource was at their disposal.