Chapter Sixteen

 

Syon was pleased with himself. He’d thought he handled the situation well. Calmly. He hadn’t lost his temper when his house guard told him his wife and the boy-child were gone. No, he’d kept his calm long enough to hear the man’s whole story, and then he'd passed judgment. Granted the judgment was a slow thrust of his sword into the soft belly of the guard, but those were the consequences. If people didn't do their job, it wasn't Syon's fault that they lost their life.

He hadn’t troubled with wiping his sword before he turned and made his way up the staircase. Why bother when the blade would only get dirty again.

The fact that he was running up the stairs only made the throb in his temples worse. He didn't run. Didn't hurry. And yet, here he was, running from empty room to empty room. He paused in his wife's room. The stillness seemed exaggerated. Loud even. He looked around the room at the expensive mirror and dark, wood dresser, a small fortune in furnishings alone. Hadn't he taken care of her? He’d never let it be said he couldn't provide for his wife. She’d had every luxury, and all he’d asked in return was a little hard work, and the microbiotics. At least he still had a good supply—kept an ample amount on his person at all times. He’d never trust his chance at immortality to anyone, much less a woman.

Lake should be grateful he’d let her and her brat live within his household. It had been an act of kindness on his part, since he no longer needed her. He’d had her write down the formula, and it was only out of his benevolence—and his lack of patience for the tedious task—that he’d allowed her to live. That, and the bump in status he received for owning a wife, that had kept her useful.

The room reeked of male, sex, and sweat. Syon pulled back the covers on her bed and saw the visual evidence that his wife and her lover left behind.

So she wasn't alone. Stupid wife. He’d known she’d never leave her brat, but to take up with another man was just asking Syon to come after her. Maybe she was? He'd never slept with his wife. Wasn't interested. But maybe that had been a mistake. Maybe it was time to turn his special brand of attention towards his wife. In hindsight, he might've become a little too preoccupied with the goings-on in the training camps.

The pain in his head worsened at the thought of what had distracted him. One particular boy had been his favorite, but someone had helped the boy escape. Syon had been searching for him for over two weeks and now the trail had finally grown cold.

Maybe it was time for another distraction. He left the room and made his way downstairs to the locked cabinet that held his guns. With his fist, he broke the glass, not even feeling the jagged shards that sliced his skin. He grabbed his pistol, checked the number of bullets—two. More than enough.

Stupid wife. Didn't she know that if she’d escaped on her own, she would’ve had a much better chance of blending in with another household as a slave or field worker? There might’ve been a chance that he would’ve never found her. But really, a man with a woman and baby in tow was just too obvious. And way too obvious was where they were heading.

He called to the boy who stood waiting for him outside his house. “Saddle my horse. I’m heading to the Portal.”

 

 

***

 

The portal loomed before them—a circular swirling mass of colors as tall as a full, grown oak and three times as wide. Hudson had never been this close to the portal before, never had a need. He’d heard the energy coming off the kaleidoscope of blacks and purples was intense, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the real thing. A pushing force, similar to a strong windstorm, pulled on their clothes and hair. Even thirty feet away, the low roar the vortex emitted vibrated his bones and hurt his ears.

They were near the end of the line, waiting to get through the checkpoint. The crowd had died down, most going through the portal, some being sent back across the desert.

No one in their small group made a sound, except Rider—he'd started to cry the moment they'd gotten close enough to hear the low hum of the wormhole.

They inched their way forward in line, the process seeming to take forever. Hudson looked behind to check the progress of the lone rider who was fast coming up behind them.

Without a doubt he knew it was Syon, and by the look on Lake's face, so did she.

They were almost to the front. The soldier inspecting each stamp was thorough in his job, checking packs, holding the papers up to the sunlight. His meticulousness did not bode well for Hudson. A man who took pride in his job was not easy to bribe.

Hudson swallowed hard and watched his wife's hand tremble as she pushed her hair out of her face for the hundredth time. “Listen to me,” she said.

He didn't want to. He knew what she was going to say, but his mind was already made up. She should just save her breath for going through the portal.

“It's me he wants," Lake continued, ignoring the shake of his head. “Take the boys. Go through. You can come back for me later when they’re safe. This time I promise, I don't care how long it takes, I promise I won't lose faith. I'll wait for you.”

Hudson fought the strange urge to laugh. Like he’d be that much of a fool for a second time. He'd fought so hard to get his family back together; did Lake really think he'd give it all up again? He was about to tell her to go to hell, in the most kindest way possible, when the trader in front of them was waved through the checkpoint and it became their turn.

Hudson came face to face with the stoic looking guard and realized this was where religion met advancement. Here in front of Hudson was a man with a semi-automatic weapon strapped to his chest, a tactical vest, and rows of Velcro pockets. And all Hudson had was his ax slung over his shoulder, and a cause that burned in his heart. Not much of an even match.

But Hudson steeled himself with the thought that a man couldn't eat his bullet-proof vest.

“Papers,” said the guard, his brow furrowing as he took in the sight of a woman, a boy, and a baby. Not the usual merchants who went across.

“Oh yes, sorry.” Hudson began to pat down his chest, pretending to be looking for his papers, though he knew exactly where he'd put them. “I had them right here. Where did they go?”

The guard ignored Hudson's bumbling as he assessed Lake and the crying baby she had bouncing on her hip. “You have a stamp for the baby and woman?”

“Yes, yes, of course. They're right here.” Hudson swung his bag off his shoulder. “Do you mind?”

He started unloading his bag and placing the items into the unsuspecting guard’s hands—apple, three pears, a small cloth filled with berries, and a large bag of apio vegetables.

The man's eyes widened at the booty. Hudson watched him swallow, then looked around to see how far away his fellow soldiers were. Fresh anything was a luxury. Fresh fruit was unheard of. A man could exist on corn meal and dried beans, but years could go by without him tasting a real apple or berry.

“Oh, here they are.” Hudson pulled out three papers and waved them in front of the guard. “Here, I knew I had them. I don't know what I was thinking bringing all that food to the portal. There’s no way that will make it across. Can I leave it here with you?”

Hudson knew he had him when the man started sniffing the pear and counting the berries. Hudson wasted no time, knowing if they could just get past the guard, they could make a run for it. He stuffed the papers back into his bag and unceremoniously pushed Vonn in front of him through the checkpoint.

The soldier popped a berry into his mouth and closed his eyes in uncensored bliss. Hudson took the opportunity to grab Lake, and in his over zealousness, pushed her a tad too hard.

Just then a gunshot rang out. Every guard and remaining straggling merchants looked up and behind toward the sound. The horseman had ridden into the station, horse galloping, pistol raised into the air. “Stop that man. He's taking my wife!”

Everything happened in slow motion as Hudson watched his carefully stacked house of cards crumple to the ground. He watched as Lake unclasped Rider's hands from around her neck and placed their son into Vonn's arms. She spoke something in Vonn's ear and gave him a push toward the portal. Hudson watched the guard’s face as it re-cemented back into the stoic features of the uncaring and felt rather then saw, the rest of the merchants in line move away from him.

“Let me see those papers,” the guard said, reaching for his gun.

Hudson slowly pulled his bag off as he captured Lake's gaze with his own. With everything he had, he conveyed one message. RUN!

Come on Lake, go.

He knew exactly when she was able to read his message. And knew exactly when she made up her mind, with a slight shake of her head, to disregard him.

Damn his wife. Would she never listen?

“Don’t let them through,” Syon shouted as he climbed down from off his horse.

Hudson sighed. Resignation weakening him like none of his fear before had. He pulled out the papers and handed them to the guard.

“There are only three stamps,” the soldier said, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Syon tried to push his way to the front of the line, but two men with automatic weapons held him back. “That's because he illegally kidnapped my wife,” Syon shouted. “Those stamps are forged.”

Hudson watched as Vonn struggled toward the portal, shoulders and head hunched over, the screaming two-year-old in his arms. The energy force was like a gale wind whipping at his hair and clothes. Each step a painful, slow progression.

“Halt!” A soldier close to Hudson yelled as he caught sight of Vonn making a slow beeline toward the circular vortex. He raised his gun and followed Vonn's moving figure with the sight of his semi-automatic.

Hudson was already flinging himself toward the soldier as Lake placed herself in front of Vonn as a human shield. Hudson tackled him to the ground, but just as quickly was restrained by a group of soldiers that descended upon him like a swarm of angry bees.

There was a quick kick to his ribs, hands brought behind his back, but the whole time Hudson kept his eyes trained on Vonn. He watched the boy blow hard into his son's mouth and then covered the baby’s mouth and nose with one hand. Vonn then took a deep breath of his own and stepped through.

He sighed or was that a groan from another solid kick to his stomach? Lake was screaming something, but the low roar of the portal stole her words.

Hudson was brought to his knees just long enough to watch the butt of a rifle come straight toward him. Lights out.