The perfect kiss whenever he saw her. She could humble him with a simple smile. Wrap him around her finger without any effort. For her, he’d always been a fool.
Josiah winced as memories sliced through him with talons made of steel, and him feel guilty that he’d kissed Daria earlier. They burned deeper than his soul and left him raw and screaming inside.
But the one that never left him was those last moments of Mohani’s life when she’d struggled so hard to stay with him. When her pain-filled gaze had looked up at his. Not with accusation or regret.
Only love.
And though she’d been unable to speak past her pain, he’d heard her words clearly in his mind. “In times of great sorrow, we have no right to ask, ‘Why did this happen to me?’ unless we ask the same question for every joy that comes our way.”
To this day, he had no understanding for why he’d lost her. Any more than he’d ever had for how he’d been lucky enough to find her in the first place.
I will fight for you, Mohani. Yesterday, today and tomorrow. So long as he held breath in his body, he would battle for them all.
No one else would ever mean as much to him as she had. He knew that. Because no one compared to her.
And his love of her was why he tolerated Lobo and hadn’t banished him for his supreme lunacy. Well, not so much Lobo as his younger brother David.
David Wayland was still their best asset and most vulnerable member. He alone held the key to Mohani’s research, and knew what it would take to save them and make sure the Drabs never again took the upper hand.
If only the boy would speak and let them know how best to proceed. David’s Autism had been bad before Mohani’s death. Without her here to guide him, David had locked down entirely and sat in a corner of his mind in bitter isolation that made Josiah’s look normal in comparison.
Mohani’s precious Avatar refused to communicate with anyone.
Even his big brother, Lobo.
“If something ever happens to me, Joey, you have to make sure that David survives. Remember what the Bhagavad Gita says—Whenever righteousness wanes and unrighteousness increases I send myself forth. For the protection of the good and for the destruction of evil, and for the establishment of righteousness, I come into being, age after age.”
The fact that David had been born a decade and a half before the entire world had gone into crisis was almost enough to make Josiah believe Mohani’s prediction that the boy was a true avatar. Vishnu was said to always appear at such times so that he could right the balance and set the world to order again.
Would make sense. Stranger things had happened... such as the earth being invaded by Drabs with a plague that virtually wiped out the human race.
Him kissing Daria when he knew better ...
Yeah, the devil was definitely sitting on icicles today.
“Crimson Ninja Leader in position. Over.”
Josiah smiled at Mia’s call sign he could hear even in his bird form, as she notified their forces she had made it through the dark to slide through Drab security and come up to the rear of their installation.
She and her strike team had dubbed themselves Skateboard Ninjas. Though the way they maneuvered through things a quarter of their size with grace and ease, he usually referred to them as Skateboard Ninja Hamsters. No one could navigate the underground sewers and pipes better. It was why he’d made her a leader at an age when most were just joining their ranks.
“Horus? You there?”
He would never get used to his call sign that Anjelica had given him as a joke years ago. Horus, as in the Egyptian war god who was known for protection and wrath. Except Horus was a falcon, not a crow.
Huginn or Muninn would be more apropos. But then Josiah didn’t answer to anyone. For anything.
Not even the gods.
“In position.” Josiah used his powers to relay his thoughts to his team. “Drabs are due north of your position. Little activity. Hold until I get a better vantage point.”
He dove lower so that he could glide on the wind toward the armed station where Daria’s parents and some of their members had been stashed. Even with his heightened sight, it was hard to detect any details about their location. The Drabs weren’t taking any chances.
Heading for the brig, he made sure to keep to the shadows. While the Drabs didn’t know about his abilities, they did know about Shifs and shapeshifters. For too long, the Matens been experimenting on survivors, trying to learn just how humanity had mutated in order to overcome the disease the Drabs had spread among them.
Unlike the politicians who’d denied it, Josiah had known from the beginning that their exposure was no accident caused by the Matens using a form of Polonium as a fuel source. Rather it’d been strategic bio warfare. Like the Europeans giving Native Americans pox-ridden blankets to thin their numbers.
“Sss!”
Josiah pulled up short at the hiss that caught him off guard. Blood exploded over his feathers, weighing them down and throwing him off balance. With no way to clean them off midflight, the extra weight and thick viscosity sent him careening toward the ground.
Even though he knew it was all kinds of stupid, he transformed and rolled to keep from breaking anything during his crash-landing.
The moment he did, he saw what had happened on base, and his heart went still.
This was bad. A Remnant hit that was much harsher and more blatant than any they’d imagined in their worst nightmares. Blood and entrails coated the walls around him, while bones had been scattered about in warning.
And to cause fear among their enemies.
“Remnants!” he snarled at his team. “Pull back! Fast!”
Josiah barely had time to dodge an attack before a giant, diseased creature grabbed him. Twisting, he turned back into a bird to fly off. He almost didn’t make it. The Remnant swatted at him with a speed that was inhuman—their gift from the Drabs.
No wonder there had been so little activity here on his arrival. The Remnants must had beaten them to it and killed everyone at the base. Their specialty.
Once they had a target, they executed all with extreme prejudice. And without hesitation. Young, old. It didn’t matter. If it breathed and had blood and protein, they made it dinner.
“It’s an infected zone,” he warned his team. “Retreat!”
Mia cursed. “What about the others?”
“If they’re here, it’s too late for them.” They’d already been eaten from the looks of the gore around him.
He didn’t bother to report how much blood, bone and other things he saw strewn about the facility and grounds. That was the thing about Remnants, they were extremely thorough with their slayings.
Not just because they were messy eaters, but because it was a psychological game they played with their enemies. Designed to frighten and intimidate. To mentally debilitate anyone they might face in a fight.