Star Angel: Return to Anitra (Star Angel Book 2)
Star Angel
Return to Anitra
David G McDaniel
visit:
TeamStarAngel.com
Star Angel: Return to Anitra
Copyright © 2010 by David G McDaniel
Reprinted, Copyright © 2015
Published by
Black Helm Entertainment
Cover design by
Ivan Zanchetta
All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced
in any form, in whole or in part, without
written permission from the author.
The Star Angel Pentalogy is:
Book One: Awakening
Book Two: Return to Anitra
Book Three: Dawn of War
Book Four: Rising
Book Five: Prophecy
visit:
TeamStarAngel.com
Jess has been back on Earth only a few months but her hopes for a normal life can’t last. She desperately longs for that illusion to be real, wants it more than anything, but “normal” will never again be an option. Too much is at stake, too much has been exposed.
And there are others who want what she hides.
When the hammer falls she’s more prepared than she would ever have thought possible, but nothing can prepare her for what comes next. For what waits on Anitra is something beyond anything she could’ve imagined. An epic reality that will change worlds.
And so, as she heads further down the rabbit hole, no longer able to deny her destiny, she’s forced to realize there’s only one possible outcome to the terrible convergence of events at which she’s arrived.
An outcome that isn’t even the end. For, to her growing despair, she realizes life beyond that outcome promises only to become more epic, not less.
Peace, for her, may never come.
Dedicated to my amazing wife. Your belief and support throughout this journey have meant everything.
This is for you.
“Power is within you. The ranks of the Adeptus have come to understand it. In truth we have learned to wield it. Despite this knowledge we hold no monopoly. Power is within you. It exists within you even now.
“Why you choose to hide it, why you suppress such vast potential can be known.
“True power can be unleashed.”
— The priestess Aesha, 5th Kel Dynasty
CHAPTER 1: NITRO THUNDER
CHAPTER 2: BIRTHDAY SUSHI
CHAPTER 3: WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS
CHAPTER 4: ROAD TRIP
CHAPTER 5: PARANOIA
CHAPTER 6: VISITORS
CHAPTER 7: DECISION TIME
CHAPTER 8: SHOOTOUT AT THE RANCH
CHAPTER 9: COMPLICATIONS
CHAPTER 10: BATTLE IN BOISE
CHAPTER 11: RETURN TO ANITRA
CHAPTER 12: REALITY CHECK
CHAPTER 13: NEWS
CHAPTER 14: NO REST FOR THE WEARY
CHAPTER 15: A PHONE CALL
CHAPTER 16: THE RED DOOR
CHAPTER 17: FUGITIVE
CHAPTER 18: A TYRANT IS BORN
CHAPTER 19: PROPHECY
CHAPTER 20: AN EVIL WIND
CHAPTER 21: THE WAY OUT
CHAPTER 22: ARRIVAL
CHAPTER 23: NIGHT OF THE BEAST
CHAPTER 24: SEABORNE
CHAPTER 25: TROUBLE
CHAPTER 26: STALEMATE
CHAPTER 27: MOUNTAIN RETREAT
CHAPTER 28: THE NEW EMPEROR
CHAPTER 29: CHARIOT OF THE GODS
CHAPTER 30: A CERTAIN KIND OF MAGIC
CHAPTER 31: REBEL LEADER
CHAPTER 32: LATE NIGHT RENDEZVOUS
CHAPTER 33: TRUE LOVE
CHAPTER 34: THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM
CHAPTER 35: APPROACH
CHAPTER 36: THE BATTLE BEGINS
CHAPTER 37: HERE BE DEMONS
CHAPTER 38: THAT WHICH CANNOT BE IGNORED
CHAPTER 39: FACEOFF
CHAPTER 40: SMALL HOPE
CHAPTER 41: INTO THE FRAY
CHAPTER 42: A HERO IS TESTED
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER 1: NITRO THUNDER
The volume of sound in the air was astounding. Jess covered her ears but it didn’t really matter. Standing at the fence at the end of the track she braced herself as a pair of Top Fuel dragsters rocketed past, neck and neck, blistering the land with the shockwaves of nearly 20,000 combined horsepower. Her sight warbled as the wheeled darts ripped across her field of vision, so fast her head could barely follow, cone of sonic destruction slamming her with an organ-vibrating assault. Even her eyeballs itched.
The dragsters were past in a blur, through the traps and shut down—tremendous sound gone all at once, chutes popped and twirling madly as they dwindled toward the far end of the track. When they shut off it was as if they released the roar of the crowd, though the thousands watching had been roaring all along, completely inaudible over the thunder of the mighty engines. For those four seconds, when the cars were at full throttle, the rest of the world simply ceased to exist.
Jess cheered along with everyone else. It was a great pass.
“Yeah!” Mike enthused. Everyone was keyed up. It was apparently rare for both cars to make it all the way to the end at full power, without one of them at least blowing up or losing traction or shutting down or some other issue that came from being way too high strung. The results of this run were good numbers and the crowd was eating it up.
Throngs had flocked to the bleachers and the fence as the “ground pounders” were announced, every possible viewing space rapidly filled. Mike chose to come all the way forward, working his way through the bodies so they could be as close to the track as possible, down near the traps. Jess smiled at him and his friends as they made excited comments and animated gestures. Levi and Matt were with them, each bursting with enthusiasm at the insane intensity of the Fuel cars. The boys were loving it.
Jess had to admit she was impressed. The physics nerd in her could scarcely believe cars with no more than what were, essentially, V8 piston motors, could accelerate so fast. Each engine made as much power as three freight locomotives, in a car that weighed less than a family sedan, which meant in less than four seconds they went from zero to a good chunk over 300—324.12 was the winner on this one … it seemed nearly impossible.
Watching them live and in action, however, rapidly disabused you of the unreality of it. It was all very, very real. Standing near the traps, when the cars launched you could actually see them move down at the other end before the wall of sound hit. From that far away they accelerated so fast they began closing the gap visually before the sound made it to you. You watched the start, heard the cars idling, waiting, the lights went green and … they exploded off the line, toward you—yet, for that first instant you could still only hear the sound of their idle. The explosive sound of their launch hadn’t yet reached the end of the track but they were already well on their way. Silent missiles. Like warp drive or something. Flames shot from the headers in a fire “V”, a volcano of death on each side of the car as they twisted under their own monstrous torque, lunging ahead but … no change in sound. Not at first. Like they were still idling down there, though clearly they were not. Then, when the fierce volume slammed into you …
Whoa.
On a good run they hit a hundred miles-an-hour in the first half-second, according to Mike. It boggled the mind.
She watched him, standing tall beside her. Having fun with his buddies. They’d caravanned all the way there to Vegas—mentally she pinched herself, still amazed her mom let her go—with three boys no less—nine long hours to witness this spectacle. Mike had been to two
NHRA events before and was dying to bring Matt and Levi. His reason, however, for getting everyone to come on this improbable trip was suspect:
This was supposedly her birthday present.
How getting up hours before the crack of dawn and hauling ass through the mountains and desert with three teenage boys just to watch noisy, stinky drag racing was supposed to be a special birthday present … It was crowded, it was loud, nitro methane and grease fumes everywhere, she was tired …
But, in a way, it was special. Certainly unique.
Way unique.
Coming all the way to Vegas without parents was also a big deal. It was in honor of her recent Sweet Sixteen and there was no good reason for them to let her do this, especially with her boyfriend and two of his rowdy mates, but they had. Mike was nearly eighteen, but even if he was all-the-way eighteen that wouldn’t have made him any more grown up and all things considered this was, without a doubt, huge.
The drag racing, according to Mike, was just part of his plans. He had dinner reservations that night. Then they were staying with his aunt and heading back tomorrow. All timed to get home before school on Monday. An exhausting trip, all the way around.
But so far Jess was loving it. As tired as she was she was actually thrilled with Mike’s over-the-top gift. It was so much more than anyone had ever done for her and, quite possibly, the most thought anyone had put into a birthday present ever.
“Next one,” he announced as another pair of dragsters moved to the starting line far down the track. The rumble of their idling engines drifted on the air, followed by loud roars as they lit up and did huge burnouts. White tire smoke rolled across the starting line, over the crowds, the engines dropping back to a chaotic Bap! Bap! Bap!; the unmistakable sound of those over-wound, over-compressed motors weighing heavy over everything as the dragsters backed slowly into position.
Getting ready to annihilate the world.
Jessica’s phone buzzed. She dug it out of her pocket and checked the face. It was Mom.
She took the call without thinking.
“Hey Mom!”
“Hi hon—”
The cars launched, sending another round of thunder down the track and completely overwhelming all other sound. Jess flinched and squeezed her free hand to her ear, crushing the phone to her other as the cars reached them in an instant and roared past. One’s engine exploded in a ball of flame just shy of where she stood—BOOOM!—and that car whirred by—coasting through the traps at 200 miles-an-hour—even as the other blasted through victorious.
“My God!” her mom’s voice was audible again. “What was that?! Was that the race cars?”
“Aren’t they loud?”
“Watch your hearing, honey.”
Typical mom.
“I’m fine. Doesn’t really hurt your ears, believe it or not. Low frequency. Just kind of rocks your senses.”
“Well watch your senses then.” Her mom chuckled. Then: “And I mean that. Don’t do anything senseless while you’re out there. I mean, no nonsense … ”
“I get it, Mom.” Jess rolled her eyes. “Mike’s been the perfect gentleman.”
In the quiet between rounds she could hear her mom clearly, and as she listened she thought she heard … clicking? Something on the line clicked on and off. Once more, like the connection was going in and out, though her mom’s voice remained loud and clear.
Mom was on to other things. “Have you met his aunt yet?”
“We came straight to the track. Nearly missed qualifying.”
“Well call me when you get there and tell me what she’s like.”
“I will.”
“I want to talk to her.”
Jessica’s initial reaction was along the lines of, God, Mom! Give me some space! But Mom had given her space. Lots of it. She was all the way in Vegas with no adult chaperone. If all Mom was asking was to talk to Mike’s aunt then she more than deserved that. Without any grief from her daughter. Months after “the incident” Mom was only just beginning to lose some of the fear of letting her out of sight, worried she might somehow get amnesia again or disappear. That Mom and Dad let her come to Vegas at all was still, to her, amazing.
“I will,” she agreed. “Definitely. I’ll call you as soon as we get there.” Then: “Love you, Mom.”
“Love you too, honey.”
And they hung up. Jess put the phone back in her pocket. Mike and the boys were going on animatedly about this or that amazing fact, cool thing or awesomeness about the cars, waiting eagerly for the next run, such looks of expectation on their faces. She smiled.
Boys could be so precious.
She leaned against the fence, closed her eyes and looked up, face to the afternoon sun. It felt so warm, so nice on her skin in the crisp, spring air. She took a moment to soak it up, savoring the sensation, listening to the sounds of the speedway in the background; echoes of tools and cars in the slower classes tuning up, the midway in the distance, simulators and games and everything else that made it sound like a carnival. Noises, smells, a light breeze blowing …
In that moment all was at peace.
Then the next pair of dragsters fired up at the other end, making their authority known. She opened her eyes.
Bracing herself for the fury to come.
* *
Jess walked along behind the boys, feeling very much like a third wheel. Or, in this case, a fourth wheel. They strolled aimlessly through the midway, headed for the nitro pits to see if they could catch what Mike called a “clutch seat”. Apparently after the crews installed a new clutch in one of the Top Fuel cars they started it and hit the throttle to apply major torque, thus “seating” the new clutch. In the pits you could stand within feet of the jacked-up cars and, according to Mike, when they hit the throttle and you were that close it felt like standing in the face of an explosion.
She couldn’t wait.
Absently she pushed her hair to the side. For the trip Bianca had helped her put in soft curls, giving her long brown hair actual volume and bounce. Mike loved it, or so he said, and it was about the most amazing thing she’d done to her appearance in what seemed like forever.
It was taking some getting used to.
With the hair she wore a flirty sundress, cute sandals, a delicate anklet and necklace and, in the loud, smelly environment of the pits, was starting to feel a little out of place. Too flirty. Most everyone else wore jeans, shorts and T-shirts.
At some point the fried smells of the midway got to them and they all decided they were hungry. Mike curved to one of the concession stands, leading them to the corn dog hut. As they stood in line he let Matt and Levi go ahead, falling back to stand with her.
“Having fun?”
She looked up and smiled and he bent to give her a peck on the lips. He put his arm around her. Mike was the only one among the three boys with a girl on his arm, and he’d been taking every opportunity to hold her hand, or hold her close, or kiss her, not really shoving it in his friend’s faces but not hiding the fact either. He had a girlfriend and they didn’t.
“I’m getting you your birthday corn dog,” he announced.
“Birthday corn dog?”
“I want to start a tradition.”
She laughed. Mike had his moments.
“Don’t worry,” he assured her. “This is just to tide you over. I’ve got much better things in store.” Then, with a sly smile: “The corn dog is just the appetizer.”
She had no idea what that meant. Actually, she thought maybe she did, but cringed to think of it in terms of corn dogs. Of course she could be way off. Knowing Mike, which was to say not really knowing what to expect from his mostly juvenile—but sweet— mind, she would just have to wait and see.
He leaned closer. “This will be a birthday to remember.”
It seemed he had a real desire for her to have a good time. To be lavished with recognition on this, the celebration of her sixteenth birthday, but she had to wonder if it was truly her happiness he
was interested in or his own boyish urges. It seemed a lot of trouble to go to otherwise.
They got their corn dogs and Cokes and continued, eating and drinking as they walked, Mike helping her put mustard on the end for each bite—the way she liked it—juggling napkins and open mustard packets, and bottles and all the things in their hands, laughing and making jokes with the others and generally having a good time. Eventually they found their way to the nitro pits. The crews were busy tearing down engines from the recent passes, getting ready for the next round. It was fascinating to watch and, as Mike promised, you could get right up to the ropes as they worked, hard and fast, almost close enough to touch. They finished their food and kept walking around, looking for one of the fabled clutch-seat events Mike wanted them to witness.
Soon they found a candidate, ready to fire up. Mike hurried them over to stand right by the pit as close as they could. A crowd was gathering. Then … the crew lit the fuse. The engine whined as it turned, acting at first like it wouldn’t start, then it did, struggling briefly at a difficult lope until it caught its stride—sounding like a train wreck in those first seconds—then it settled to a deep, burpy idle. She made a comment to Mike but realized even the sound of the idle, just the idle alone, was giving off such a tremendous bass pulse that talking had become impossible. She tried to imagine what came next. The crew pulled on gas masks and she began to squint as nitro fumes filled the air. They hustled around the car, checking this or that thing, then …
BRRAP! hit the throttle and she actually jumped. It was like a body punch. She’d been expecting some sort of shock but was not prepared for the ferocity of the engine’s hit in that proximity.
BRRAP! again and this time she held. Her eyeballs warbled, her skin tingled, her muscles coiled to flee but she made herself stand in place. Mike stood behind her, holding her around her waist, whooping with the thrill though she couldn’t hear him. She couldn’t hear anyone or anything. Nothing. It was the engine and only the engine; no other sound existed or could exist in that world. A bomb would not have penetrated the fury of the Top Fuel motor.