027

 

27.  The Distant Horizon

 

Frank watched the sun rise over the wasteland, illuminating the empty landscape and warming his exhausted body. Night had come and passed while he slept for quite a while on a rock-hard bench in the middle of nowhere. During his escape from the crash site he’d thought about pausing several times, but as soon as he did so, the image of Grayson's sadistic eyes and sinister smile would surface within his mind...and Frank would be up and running again. By the time he reached a vista that overlooked the city of Bakersfield, his stamina had reached its limit, and he collapsed.

 

It seemed impossible that Grayson could survive what had happened, but Frank wasn't going to take any chances. He phoned his wife yesterday just to let her know he would be getting home late, but he refused to involve her any more than that. Who knows how many people Grayson had alerted yesterday? Zexaron was a corporate empire. From now on, he would never be able to fully relax, no matter where he went.

 

His thoughts turned to Ed, the last person he could trust. He wondered how his friend had fared last night after exposing Grayson's secrets in the darkness of the records room. Frank palmed his cell phone anxiously. It was only past daybreak, so Ed would most likely be asleep. Still, he felt like he couldn’t wait any longer, so he pulled the phone out and dialed away.

 

"Frank?" Edward answered his phone on the second ring.

 

"Hey, Ed," Frank responded slowly. Now his voice sounded weak.

 

"You still out on...business?" Edward asked.

 

"I'll be truthful with you, Ed," Frank confessed, "but first, I need to know what else you found out last night."

 

"That's a strange story." Frank could hear Ed's dark sarcasm, something he had been missing for quite some time. "To put it bluntly: Grayson found me."

 

"What?!" Frank roared. "Grayson found you?!"

 

"You seem a little more surprised than I expected," Edward replied. "I mean, you didn't think we were going to go unnoticed, did you?"

 

"No, Ed, that's not it..." Frank fingered his temple, at the mercy of Edward's words. "That's impossible. He was chasing me when I called you!"

 

"Did he catch you?"

 

"No..." Frank's mind was in overdrive, trying to find some loophole or vital truth that he had missed. "A few minutes after I hung up on you, I pushed his car off a cliff. Then I pushed my own car off too, to crush him. It was physically impossible for him to get away from that, let alone run through miles through the desert back to the Zexaron building and catch you, Ed. That was not Grayson!"

 

Edward gave no reply.

 

"Ed?" Frank's voice pressed, waiting for a response.

 

"Last night," Edward began, "Grayson wanted me to come with him, but I'd gotten so worked up over what I found that I threatened him. He attacked me, and the next thing I remember, I was lying in the middle of my living room floor at three in the morning."

 

Frank listened to Edward's story closely, trying to detect any holes. "Ed, that couldn't have been Grayson. Are you sure you didn't mistake him for someone else? Maybe it was a dream?"

 

"A dream? No, Frank. Far from it. If anything, I feel like I'm awake for the first time in long while. It's entirely possible that it wasn't him, but then how did I end up back at my house? My company car is here, but I don’t remember driving it, and the only person who knows my new address...is Grayson."

 

"This is going nowhere," Frank realized, too tired and frustrated to think it over any longer. "No matter how well we rationalize it, there's no explanation that'll work perfectly. This is crazy."

 

"Maybe," Ed said, "but we still might be able to work together and do something about it. First, Frank, you need to tell me...why was Grayson chasing you?"

 

"Well," Frank sighed. "I'm not even sure where to

 

*************

 

start. Man, you really got messed up, didn't you?" Zexaron CEO F. Douglas McCarthy guffawed. He was standing over the body of Grayson Lee, who was currently lying in the bed of a small hospital in northeast Bakersfield. McCarthy looked like a short, portly middle-aged man with thinning blond hair, but laughed at Grayson’s sad state with all the giggly enthusiasm of an innocent little girl.

 

Grayson had been bandaged across his chest, his left wrist was in a splint, and his remaining cuts and bruises had all been attended to. "This is ridiculous. If it had been anywhere else – but no, a car had to fall onto me on Earth. Now look at me! Being tended to by the incompetent, with all this inferior technology."

 

"Come on." McCarthy kicked the bed with his foot. "You'll be alright."

 

Grayson raised a testy eyebrow to his ally. "Did you receive a report from the recent meeting?"

 

"Yeah," McCarthy replied. "You know the Belmarcian Tournament is in three months, right?"

 

"That soon, huh?"

 

"Most everyone is in Enmetropolis now, scoping out the place and preparing for it. No one wanted to come here and help out."

 

"Is that so?" Grayson smirked. "The Rabbit spoils them like they were his own children."

 

"I was thinking about how nice it’d be to have the Dragon with us." McCarthy smirked, watching as Grayson shook his head. "Yeah, I know. Don't worry, there's no way I'd ever bring him here – he'd stick out like a sore, stitched-up thumb. Either way, I already took care of it and convinced the Sheep to come. I figure her powers would be the most useful here. You know, the gravity stuff."

 

"That's true." Grayson closed his eyes in thought. "Out of the twelve of us, she's probably the one who can work most efficiently in this dimension. So, when is she coming?"

 

"This afternoon, I think." McCarthy played with his pudgy chin, looking rather bored.

 

"Then we'll begin tonight," Grayson said. "By the way, what did you tell everyone when you brought me in here?"

 

"What do you mean?" McCarthy gave Grayson a strange look. "I told them you were in a car crash, of course."

 

"Fine. You ready to get out of here?"

 

"Whenever you are." Smiling, McCarthy moved over to the window and pushed aside the curtains. "It looks like it's a four-story drop from here. You sure you're up to that?"

 

"Please, Madeleine," Grayson said, stepping out from his bed in a blue-and-white hospital gown. "As long as you prepared a regeneration tank for me like I ordered you to, it won’t matter. I need a new suit, though. And some new glasses."

 

The rest of the patients in the ward were sound asleep, but Madeleine noticed someone watching them: a young boy with a broken leg. He stared at them with small, curious eyes, unable to comprehend what was transpiring.

 

Grayson and Madeleine both waved at the boy with friendly smiles.

 

"Watch closely, little guy!" Madeleine whispered softly. "You're staring at the people who're going to change the universe."

 

Grayson's right leg moved forward, grinning as pain from his wound rippled through his body. His foot flew out, and the window shattered. Grayson dove through, concentrating psynergy in his legs to soften the landing. Utilizing his power still gave him a terrible headache, and his body screamed out in protest.

 

He landed on a platform above the entrance to the hospital, then hopped down to the cement. Madeleine followed him, slamming McCarthy's body into the ground with an unsettling thud.

 

"It hurts," Madeleine remarked. "And it's like there's a tightness inside me every time I transform, too. Doesn't feel right."

 

"That's why we need to be careful," Grayson responded. "The time for theatrics will come much later."

 

Madeleine followed him dutifully, glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then transformed into an 11-year old girl with strawberry blonde hair. Freckles littered her rosy cheeks, holding up her large blue eyes. She was wearing a pink and white striped t-shirt with a pair of ripped blue jeans, and could have easily passed for Grayson's daughter.

 

"You ready to go?" he asked dryly, tousling her hair.

 

"I guess," Madeleine responded. "You know, you owe me a trip to the arcade after this, okay?"

 

"I don't understand why you like those games so much," Grayson muttered. "They're such a waste of time."

 

"They're cute," Madeleine argued. "And relaxing."

 

Grayson ignored the comment and waggled his hand at her. "Let's see if Mr. Darcouver is in."

 

Madeleine handed Grayson her pink cell phone and watched him make the call. After a few moments, he broke into an amused smile and ended the call.

 

"Interesting. It seems that our friend Edward is on the line with someone else."

 

"Who else would call him at this hour?"

 

"I haven't the slightest idea..." Grayson began walking into the parking lot. "Unless..."

 

"Unless?"

 

"Unless Arazia decided to get up early this morning." Grayson chuckled. "Where did you park the car?"

 

"I dunno. Over there?" she said with a vague wave of her hand.

 

"We're going to make a little trip over to Edward's house. But first, we're going to the tailor." Grayson raised a finger indicatively, while Madeleine let out a groan

 

*************

 

as he stretched his arms and dried himself off. Stepping out of the shower, Vance slipped into a brand new blue uniform and moved back to his bedside, where his black jacket lay. He could remember all the times Naomi tried to force him to get rid of it or cut off his long black hair – another precious treasure he'd inherited from his mother.

 

These memories brought not only anger with them, but sadness as well. And with every memory of his mother came a memory of his father: the weak, devastated Edward. It was all sinking in. Now that the wave of excitement had passed, now that he was alone and at free roam with his own thoughts, a debilitating depression began to bloom deep within Vance’s gut.

 

I just left him there... with Naomi, of all people, he realized. I never even told him where I was going. He probably doesn't miss me, though. He probably doesn't even think about stuff like that anymore. This is what he gets for letting mom die.

 

Vance stormed out of his room. He had felt so refreshed in the morning, but then he’d gone and ruined it by digging up the past.

 

These thoughts were quickly overrun by stirring hunger as he began to walk

 

*************

 

down the hallway. Eden had taken a wrong turn to the cafeteria and was now helplessly wandering the corridors, hoping to see someone she recognized.

 

Eventually, she spotted Captain Azuka. The Knight marched briskly down the passageway in her hakama skirt, blonde hair trailing behind her. From the moment Eden had first seen the captain and felt the vitality brimming from her aura, she’d been enthralled. Slowly approaching the woman, Eden shook off her nervousness and called out to the charismatic leader.

 

"Captain Azuka!"

 

Azuka spun around. "Oh. Eden, was it?"

 

"Yes! Wow, you remembered my name?"

 

"How could I forget?" Azuka replied fondly. "You helped to save my life."

 

"Well, I didn't really do much." Eden blushed. "But I'm really glad that I was able to help out."

 

"I understand." Azuka smiled warmly.

 

Eden's eyes shakily flitted to and fro. "I was hoping we could all have breakfast together this morning."

 

"I'm sure we'll meet up with the others in the cafeteria. Would you like to join me?"

 

"Of course," Eden smiled, then fell into step beside the captain. They turned

 

*************

 

the corner, and Cliff nearly ran smack into Vance. He froze for a moment, unsure of what to say. Vance stared upward at the man with equally clouded eyes.

 

"So." A sigh escaped Cliff's throat. "How are you?"

 

"Alright," Vance replied stoically.

 

"I hope you got a good rest," Cliff said. "I sure did. And boy did I need it."

 

"Yeah..." Vance turned his head away, letting the conversation trail off

 

"Hey, so have you thought about what you’re going to do from here on out?" Cliff asked, trying to slice through the tension.

 

"Not really," Vance mumbled. "What does it matter to you?"

 

"Vance, I know we have our differences. I just wanted to let you know, I'm grateful for your help in the Kantor District. Thank you." Awe shattered Vance's blank expression. But then, Cliff continued. "And as a Dimensional Knight, I'd be disappointed to see you go. You've got exceptional potential."

 

"Wh-what?" Vance asked. "See me go? Who said I'm going anywhere?"

 

Cliff raised an eyebrow. "I was sure after all that's happened, you'd want to be on your own now."

 

There were a few seconds of silence. "You want me out of your hair, don't you? So that you can have Eden all to yourself."

 

Cliff faltered. "What? No. Vance, why would you think that?"

 

"Come on," Vance said. "Obviously you two have something going on. And you don't want me around. You don't like me."

 

"You really think I'm that petty?" Cliff bit his lip. "You don't think there'd be any other reason? What about the fact that you can't cooperate with people? Or that all you do is complain?"

 

"Well excuse me for voicing my opinion," Vance growled. "Maybe if you weren't too busy trying to creep on some teenage girl, I'd be more cooperative."

 

Cliff let out an exasperated sigh. "What is it with you? Why do you always have to act so defensive? What do you want, Vance? What would make you happy?"

 

"I don't know," Vance replied with hopeless eyes. But then, a dark figure flashed in his mind, and it came to him. "Strength."

 

A shiver ran up Cliff's spine as he felt Vance's aura convulse. "You want to get stronger?"

 

"Yeah," Vance realized. "You're right, Cliff. I won’t be able to find my mother unless I’m strong enough to defend myself. After seeing how powerful people like Azuka and Averyl are...I felt something. Maybe it has something to do with my mother. My abilities are connected directly to her... They're all I have."

 

"Well then," Cliff answered with a smirk. "Guess we're going to have to endure each other a bit longer, Vance."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"If you want power, then you should come to the next Knight assembly," Cliff said. "Trust me, it'll interest you. I was just about to grab a bite to eat and then head over myself. What do you

 

*************

 

think?" Frank asked, finishing his lengthy tale over the phone. The sun continued to rise in the sky over the bluffs as the city awoke below.

 

"I think we have some serious problems," Edward responded. "And they all have to do with Grayson."

 

"Yes," Frank agreed. "If only we could get in touch with President McCarthy – I'd like to hear his side of the story."

 

"That's a good idea," Edward said. "But how are you going to get back into the building?"

 

"I doubt that's possible anymore," Frank sighed. "That's why I'm counting on you, Ed."

 

"Alright. I'll do what I can. But you know, Frank, I still can't figure out how it was possible for Grayson to confront both of us at the same time."

 

"I know. The deeper we go, the stranger this gets."

 

"You should've seen that room," Edward muttered. "All those papers..."

 

"Anyway, call me if anything happens. I guess I'll have to hitchhike home."

 

"Want me to pick you up?"

 

"No, that isn't a good idea..." Frank replied nervously. "All you have is a company car, right? Who knows what Grayson installed in that thing. Don't worry about me."

 

"If you say so," Edward sighed. "I guess that'll save me some time anyway. I'm supposed to go pick Naomi up at the airport this morning."

 

"Oh, okay." Frank had briefly met Edward's stepwife once, and the way she pushed her husband around hadn't left a positive impression on him. "Tell her I said hello."

 

"Yeah," Edward replied distantly. "Anyway, take care, Frank, and be safe."

 

"You too–" Frank started to speak into his phone, then suddenly realized it had gone dead.

Next: Ordinance