Chapter Ten
The Rising Son
The sun is halfway up and it's clear we're heading toward a large forest. What is also apparent is that it will probably take days to reach it. We're mostly surrounded by flat, barren land. We pass a few trees and bushes on our route, and that's only a signs to let you know there's any life out here at all. The forest has to be the nearest water source and we will desperately some in a couple of days.
Suddenly, a distant rumble breaks the silence as we both stop and stare at one another. I focus in on the sound, trying to detect if it's growing in volume when Grace points to the west. I follow her finger with my eyes and see a distant glimmering object racing north along the horizon, leaving a wisp of dust in its wake. It's a Corsair patrol. Grace grabs my arm, I can hear the uncertainty in her voice, "You think they're looking for us?" I place my hand on top of hers, "Maybe, we need to get to the forest. I've got a plan." I didn't exactly lie to her. I know what I must do. I'm just not sure how to do it yet, but the answer is in this book. I can feel it.
We walk for more hours, but the dull green canopy of distant trees has still barely grown in the distance. My hope is starting to waver and I question if we will ever reach it. I look over at Grace. She looks exhausted, but returns my gaze with a exerted smile. "I think we need to take a break." She nod in agreement and we find a nearby tree. I search through the packs and find some canteens. Their lack of weight makes my heart sink, and I look at Grace in disgust tossing her one of the bottles. She feels it in her hand, turning it over and over, like she is thinking about something. She looks up at me, "What exactly did you do back there when you rescued me?" I try my best to explain what my father taught me, and the sheer logic of her response delightfully surprises me. "Well, if you can make ice appear out of thin air, why can't you do the same thing and fill these canteens?" I raise an eyebrow at her and laugh gleefully pulling her into a tight embrace. I revel at the now obvious solution, "I guess I could try."
Standing back, I hold a canteen in my hands. I screw the lid off and let it hang by the chain that attaches it to the bottle. The effort it takes to induce the molecules to come together in it feels so small it seems like magic. In a matter of seconds, the now full canteen feels ice cold in my hand. I hand it to Grace, take hers and do the same. Soon we're sitting under the tree, taking in generous sips of the refreshing liquid. Grace grab's a couple granola bars from our rations, and we eat as I flip through the textbook.
I immediately stop skimming when I run across a word that fires off an army of ideas in my mind. My heart swells as I think of the possibilities of my strategy. I think maybe I am truly my father's son, as I feel the pieces fit together in my mind. A feeling of assurance rises in me, convincing me it will work, "I think we should stay here for a while, and regain some strength. I need to study up on something." I run my fingers across the letters of the word that lights up in my mind; combustion.
After memorizing the details I need. I make sure all the other pieces are in place before I try my next trick. We find a few fallen branches and build a makeshift pyre. I focus in on one stick at a time, trying to persuade the water to boil out of each one. I get the timing just right for the required thermal reaction and a single flame erupts on the end of one of the branches. We watch as it grows to the other pieces of wood.
I feel the apprehension in Grace's heart before I heard it in her voice. "Won't this attract one of the patrols, Apollo?" I answer with poise and I think it startles her a little. "Yes, I'm counting on it." She grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly as we stand in front of the now raging fire. We take turns adding more kindling, waiting for the unfortunate souls who decide to investigate.
As expected, not even a half hour passed before we see two trucks rapidly approaching. When they get close, maybe fifty meters away, Grace turns to run. I grab her by the arm and try to steady her, "Don't." I release my hold and walk out to meet the coming party. I hold my open palm out to the first truck, willingly this time, and as I hold images of the hydrocarbons in its gasoline in my psyche I encourage the energy of the campfire to find its way to the fuel cell. I clench my fist and the flames of the fire behind me instantly die as the vehicle in front simultaneously detonates in a deafening explosion leaving nothing behind but a burning mass of mangled metal. As everything around us rocks from the powerful blast, the other truck abruptly stops and two soldiers fall out into defensive positions.
I hear Grace gasp as they target me with their pistols. I hold my hands up over my head and slowly step toward the two men. I calmly speak as I continue my approach. "It won't do you any good." Then I hear a click from the one to my left as he squeezes the trigger on his weapon. Then I hear several more clicks coming from both men this time, but still nothing happens. What no one else realizes is when I channeled the potential of the campfire to the fuel of the truck, I also altered the chemical composition of the gunpowder in the ammunition in their weapons; to all weapons.
I laugh out loud as one of them looks at their gun trying to plead with it to work. I concentrate on the electrons in its metal, reconfiguring their polarity. I command the gun to fly from his grasp and in my direction. I snatch the weapon from the air, reversing its momentum in an instant, and forcefully launch it back at the man's face. It hits home and the guard nearly flips completely and lands back on his already smashed face. The other soldier makes a run at me, and tackles me to the ground. His weight pins me to the earth and both of his hands clasp around my throat. As I claw at his fingers, I begin to see flashes of light shoot across my gradually blurring vision. I hear Grace scream and I can just make out her behind the man pounding on the his back with her fists. He releases his grasp on me and turns to lunge at her. I panic and then like before, the warmth grows within me yet again. I notice this time it seems more natural, instinctive, more integrating with my soul. I feel calm and focused this time as the icy blade grows from my fist and I send it through the man's side. He drops to the ground and I walk over to where the first man fell patiently waiting for him to wake up.
"The rest of your group is dead," are the words he wakes up to. I want to make it clear that he has no other option than to remain here and listen to what I have to tell him. The pain surging through his face apparently is enough reason because he just silently sits there and holds a hand to his bleeding nose.
"The only reason you live is because you're going to deliver something for me. You tell Brutalius to enjoy my father's chair because I'm coming to reclaim it. Now get up!" The man stumbles trying to reach his feet so I grab his arm, jerking him to a standing position. "You also tell him if anything happens to anymore of my people or my family, I'll save him for last and make him suffer." I finish by mentally instructing the battered, bloody soldier to immediately walk to the Acropolis and find his leader. With a zombie-like posture he turns, taking slow and deliberate steps towards Alcazar to repeat my communication.
I notice that Grace has remained eerily quiet throughout the whole ordeal. I see the shocked expression on her face as I go to console her but she moves away, "Please, it's okay Grace. I swear to you we're going to get our city back." She just nods. I plead with her, "We need to get going. We'll take the truck. It's time we rescue our families." What she says to me next, riddles me with regret over my last comment, "It's too late for me, Apollo. My family's gone. The Corsair killed them."
She mourns openly now rushing to me, clutching fistfuls of my shirt as she sobs. My tears fall with hers as all I can do is listen to her cry. I should have already known about her family, and I should have paid more attention to my father. Understanding him now more and ever, I try to reach out to him telepathically but I don't feel anything. My biggest fear haunts me that he's already dead and I'm really on my own.