The Legend of Things Past (Beyond Pluto SciFi Futuristic Aventures Book 1) by Phillip William Sheppard Read Free Book Online

a
twisted mask of emotion. Donovan hadn’t expected it, hadn’t prepared for
something like this. She was only seven years old—how could she possibly…?
    In the instant that her face had changed, Mae slipped her
hand into the pocket of her dress and drew a short, sharp blade. It was rusty
from long disuse. Donovan wanted to tell her to put to it away, that she didn’t
know what it was like to kill a man, that it would be a stain on her soul
forever. He couldn’t get the words out of his mouth quickly enough—the girl
leap forward and struck with all her strength.
    Never had it occurred to Donovan that she would use the
knife on him.
    The metal penetrated perfectly between his ribs, digging
into his lung. He stared at the small child as the pain ripped through him.
That couldn’t have been just luck. She had been trained—trained to go for the
vitals. She knew exactly what she was doing.
    But why him? Why did she stab him?
    Donovan would never forget that face, the twisted scar
cutting across the gleeful smile that played on her lips. He sagged to his
knees then dropped to the ground like a sack. He had been stabbed once before,
but it had felt nothing like this.
    There was something wrong. His heart was shuddering.
    It was going to explode. His panic only made the spasms come
faster.
    As Donovan lay helpless, Mae (was that even her real name?)
searched his pockets. She found the roll of paper money and the plastic credit
cards that the General had issued him for this mission—no one here used
electronic funds.
    Mae kicked him in the side and spit on the ground next to
him.
    She bent over his face. “There was a paralysis potion on
that knife. I’m going to do what my father planned for you.”
    The next few minutes were the longest and most gruesome of
Donovan’s life. The little girl, like a demon of hell, calmly drew her blade across
his face, slicing through the flesh like butter, pushing it down until it
touched bone.
    It was then that Donovan realized that Mae believed the man
he shot to be her father. How had he gotten her to believe that? Even after he
cut her neck?
    Donovan’s nerve endings screamed, blotting out all thought.
They screeched so loudly in his ears that the sound became like a big wave that
enveloped him, drowned him. His mind was on fire—he wanted to shout, to shriek
out the throbbing, piercing hurts, but the paralysis allowed him only to lie
there, staring. When the initiation rite was complete, Mae stood up and looked
down on him. It was the oddest image—the moon shone behind her head, giving her
a halo, but her face, permanently scarred and plastered with a smile that
stemmed from causing pain, was anything but angelic.
    “Don’t come back here, pris ,” he heard her say. His
vision had started to fade. “You will never be one of us and I will never be
one you.”
    She stuffed the crumpled bills into her pocket and ran off,
leaving Donovan to choke on his own blood.

C h apter 3
    “Life on earth is at the ever-increasing risk of being wiped
out by disaster, such as sudden global nuclear war, a genetically engineered
virus or other dangers we have not yet thought of.”
    —Stephen
Hawking
     
    May 4, 2258
    En Route to Fort
Belvoir, VA
    Donovan Knight
     
    The sudden turbulence jerked Donovan out of his memories—memories
that he still couldn’t quite believe. The world was full of evil things and he
had finally switched out his worn and battered naiveté in favor of objectivity.
Objectivity was what kept him alive, brought him back to his wife and kids.
    Some holy soul in Bakersfield had called the police that
night. They did it anonymously, so Donovan never got to thank them.
    He heard the sirens as soon as Mae’s feet disappeared around
a corner. They would probably never find her. The immediate hospital attention
had saved Donovan’s face. It took weeks to heal, but when it did, there wasn’t
even a scar left behind.
    The damage was on the inside. Something about being