A Long Ways From Home

Chapter Eighteen: Jolt of Fresh Power

The chaos is escalating almost as fast as Kevin can run. People are running, screaming. Children are wandering, crying.

The storm has died down long before the wavering bubble of altered time arose. Though his jet-black hair is still soaked from the rain and his skin is cold to the touch, like that of an iceberg.

Fabian is upset.

So terribly upset. Even while his inner nerves shiver, he can feel his face is flushed with heat. His fists are tough. His jaw squared, clenched with anger.

It doesn't matter how foggy the time bubble is, they all saw it. The events of Emily's death were unmistakable. His guess? Mae created that time bubble to alter the time different than its reality. Likely slowing it down or freezing it entirely, which would explain why they could not move or escape.

But why would she do that? Why would Mae do something to kill one of her own? Did Setrákus Ra force her? Did he turn her? Is she worth saving now?

As afraid as he is to admit it, he doesn't want to just let Mae die. He knows damn well that Stela isn't going to let that happen. The two have a bond as strong as mouse has with cheese.

"We need to get to Stela and Mae!" Fabian shouts to Reynolds and Jordan, the closest near him.

"Go you two!" Reynolds yells back. "I'll help Agent Walker and her team with evacuating people from the park. Use your legacy to get by everyone, Fab."

Both Garde nod. Jordan and Fabian latch hands and the broad-shouldered boy turns his skin ghostly transparent. Thus extending to the body of the Eighth Garde.

And they run toward the stage, as fast as they can, through the racing bodies of panic.

Until, that is, Jordan halts, looking up at the sky.

"Jordan?" asks Fabian in frantic confusion. "What's wrong?"

"Look," he says, pointing to the massive alien warship. It must be at least half of this park in size! Fabian wonders what he is pointing to, but just before he is about to ask, he sees it. "I think we need to find some cover," adds Jordan.

Despite the great distance that is likely between them and the giant hunk of metal, it is fairly easy to spot the cannon on the warship's underbelly. It practically glows a vibrant purple. And it is pointed directly at them and the swarming crowd!

"Harden up!" Jordan yells then, and Fabian immediately knows what he means.

Rather than keeping his skin loose and molecules disjointed, he makes them tense, rigid, and hard. Without letting go of the emotional manipulator's pale hand, the transition spreads to him.

From a sense of weightlessness to a heaviness and pressure, they stand their ground as the purple glowing cannon emits a beam to the right of their position. An FBI agent – Fabian and Jordan can't tell who it is – hurries to scramble to his car to get out of the way, but even the young Garde can see that he is still in the strike zone.

With his free hand, Jordan reaches out; pulls the entire patrol car toward him with a telekinetic force until it clears the attack. And it does by mere inches.

The wide destructive rod of cannon-fire shoots out onto 96th Street beside Capital Park and rises into the mass of building complex. Higher until it reaches at least fifty stories tall. From left to right, right to left, again. It tears the skyline apart. The sound of shattering glass feels present everywhere, even though they have to be a few miles away. There is a hefty explosion before the boys can smell the scent of burnt rubber in the air and hear the increasing cries of innocent bystanders around them. It doesn't stop short.