Sonora, and the Scroll of Alexandria

  Sonora, and the Scroll of Alexandria

  Travis Hall

  The purchase of this book without a front cover may be unauthorized. If this book is coverless, then it may have been reported to the publisher as “unsold, stolen, or damaged,” and neither the author nor the publisher received payment.

  Sonora and the Scroll of Alexandria is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher. For information regarding permission, contact New Guy Publishing, Attention: Authorization Department, PO Box 3927, Ketchum, ID 83340.

  This book was originally published in paperback by New Guy Publishing in 2014.

  ISBN-13: 978-1502472168

  ISBN-10: 1502472163

  Copyright © 2014 by Travis Hall

  All rights reserved.

  Cover art copyright © 2014 by Steve Cowden

  www.sonoraseries.com

  Acknowledgment

  This one goes out to the dreamers, wanderers, and believers. This is for those who strive to find their path amongst the noise, the ones who may not fit into the pattern, the ones who find solace in the unknown and unexplored recesses of the mind. This is for the weird, eccentric, odd, peculiar, special, fun, strange, abnormal individuals who make up human existence. This is for you, for me, and for anyone that will ever be. But most of all, this is for that one special person who will wonder and dream about a world of possibilities that have yet to be discovered and yet to be created. If you are reading this, that person is you.

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  chapter ONE: Fair

  chapter TWO: Help

  chapter THREE: Seniors

  chapter FOUR: Giants

  chapter FIVE: Perimeter

  chapter SIX: Training

  chapter SEVEN: Tests

  chapter EIGHT: Skipper

  chapter NINE: Shangri-La

  chapter TEN: Ruins

  chapter ELEVEN: Jade Cube

  chapter TWELVE: Shambhala

  chapter THIRTEEN: Bubble Jump

  chapter FOURTEEN: Morp

  chapter FIFTEEN: Kiss

  chapter SIXTEEN: Jade Orb

  chapter SEVENTEEN: Abu Simbel

  chapter EIGHTEEN: Alexandria

  chapter NINETEEN: Balloon Glue

  chapter TWENTY: May Day

  chapter TWENTY-ONE: Mt. Olympus

  chapter TWENTY-TWO: Cyclops

  chapter TWENTY-THREE: Hades

  chapter TWENTY-FOUR: Escape

  chapter TWENTY-FIVE: Noah’s ARC

  chapter TWENTY-SIX: Graduation

  chapter TWENTY-SEVEN: Battle City

  chapter TWENTY-EIGHT: Sonora

  Prologue

  As he sped down the crystal obsidian floor, the young man’s every step was reluctant. The polished metal lining of his soles clanked against the floor, echoing the dreadful news that he must relay. His heart wanted to escape from his chest, and nausea was an unwelcomed result of the message that he was required to give. The path to the grand hall was long and expansive. Lining the wall were the depictions of kings and lords of old, when Sonorans were gods and humans were slaves. There were majestic scenes of battles, with war-torn faces of warriors, frozen with their swords swinging high. The incredibly detailed sculptures were embedded in the dark crystal, as if the real warriors had been turned to stone.

  The young messenger swallowed hard as the hallway eventually opened up into a large room filled with dimly lit chandeliers. Pillars of stone created a direct path to a large, round table where twenty people sat in high-backed chairs made of old wood from the southern forests of Andeema. Each chair had a distinct color, representing each different lord of Sonora. Seated at the far end was a man who gave off an obvious aura of power as he stared down at the young man who had interrupted their meeting. He had sharp cheekbones, long black hair like the obsidian that covered the interior of the room, and dark-brown eyes that could bring the strongest man to tears. The young man silently and slowly rounded the table, keeping his head straight to escape the curious eyes following his every move. Each step was heavier than the next, as if someone was filling his shoes with cement. He grabbed his hand to keep it from shaking.

  A guard wearing a dark-gray combat suit and holding a staff stopped him at the side of a large pillar. The king sat high in his seat with his chest out, a broadsword tied upon his waist in an ornate sheath that only a king could wear. The young man stared at the sword, wondering how many had come to an end upon its blade.

  “My king, we are stretched too thin,” said the man sitting in the chair closest to the king. General Hollisar wore a black, perfectly starched uniform that was decorated with medals and embroidered patches showing his extensive military prowess. He had silver hair, a pointy chin, dark-green eyes, and a mouth that looked as though it didn’t know how to smile. “Don’t you think that we need to focus on the rebels here in Sonora first? They have grown in strength and are allying with other clans along the western regions.”

  The king turned, walked back toward his chair, and laughed maniacally.

  “The humans have this game called chess. It’s a fascinating game of strategy,” he said, placing his palm on the hilt of his sword. “If you underestimate your opponent, then you will be caught off guard. Our opponent is making its move. We must take measures to quicken our time line.” The king sat back down into his chair and smirked. “In any game of the mind, there are points where you must think seven moves ahead of your opponent. If you underestimate your opponent, then you will be caught off guard. The only problem with this human game of chess is that it doesn’t allow for any…creativity.” He motioned to the young messenger with a sharp finger. The boy hesitated, his eyes trained to the floor. He slowly walked up next to the king, his lip quivering as he looked up at him. “What news do you bring me?”

  “They found it,” the boy said while keeping his eyes fixed to the tiled floor. The king remained expressionless, staring at the messenger.

  He turned his gaze onto the sitting military leaders. His eyes seemed to radiate energy. He placed his hands on the table, his veins protruding and pulsating up his arms.

  The king smiled. “When you want to catch a queen, you must sacrifice a few pawns.” He looked over at the boy. “And sometimes you have to resort to more alternative tactics.”

  Suddenly, the boy’s head jerked up, his eyes bulging from their sockets. Protruding from his chest was a steel sword, streaked with blood. From the shadow behind the boy, two red eyes dissipated, revealing an exact copy of the king. The figure pulled the sword from the boy’s abdomen and apathetically tossed the limp body aside.

  chapter

  ONE

  Fair

  Lining up her target, Allora took careful aim. A slight breeze rustled the loose strands of hay that tumbled along past her as she remained rigid, staring down the barrel of the gun. The sun scorched the ground around her. Beads of sweat slowly rolled down her forehead, temporarily blurring her right eye, and she wiped her brow as she impatiently waited for her cue. Then she heard the piercing ring of a bell and quickly pulled the trigger.

  Water squirted from the nozzle of the fake gun and shot down toward a red-and-white target ring. In front of the target, a small bear rose on a lift, intended for the top of the oblong fair attraction. Next to her, Tanner was focused on his own target. As the small stuffed animal got closer to the top, they began yelling. T
he twins were right behind them, screaming in their ears. Then the bell rang again, and a siren went off above Allora’s seat. The attendant came over and handed her a large purple dragon with its red tongue sticking out. Allora handed it off to Tanner, whose face disappeared behind the massive dragon’s head.

  “Seriously, I have to hold this?” Tanner asked, his voice muffled behind the stuffed animal.

  “That was the deal,” Allora answered.

  “You look ridiculous,” Dax said, walking up with Katie.

  “I look ridiculous?” Tanner said sarcastically, staring at Dax’s outfit. He had on tight blue jeans, pointed cowboy boots, a tight flannel button-up, and a stiff white cowboy hat. “What are you wearing?”

  “I entered the bull-riding contest, which starts in a few minutes,” Dax said. “You gotta dress the part. Plus, chicks love cowboys.”

  “Maybe the real ones who actually work on a ranch,” Allora added.

  “Precisely what I said,” Katie added, chuckling.

  After grabbing elephant ears and hot dogs, they walked along matted grass walkways, watching the oddities of the fair. At the end of the row of attractions was the circular enclosed arena, which was starting to fill with spectators. An occasional breeze blew through, cooling the glistening sweat layer that covered their skin.

  “Wish me luck,” Dax said, grabbing his belt and pulling up his jeans.

  “Just don’t get gored by the bull’s horns,” Katie said with a smirk. “I really wouldn’t want to have to explain that to Dad.”

  “Right. Got it,” Dax said, rolling his eyes. “No getting speared. I’ll be sure to inform the bull of that.”

  Dax ran toward the staging area as one of the contestants was getting ready in the bullpen. Tanner, Katie, and Allora jumped onto the fence surrounding the arena as the announcer called off the contestant’s name. Then a siren wailed, and the rodeo clown quickly pulled open the metal gate. Only two seconds in, the bull bucked off the rider, who flew and landed hard onto the mud. The bull then began to maul the rider as he lay helpless on the ground. The rodeo clowns were able to distract the animal long enough to allow the rider to escape. He limped away quickly, obviously injured.

  “Great. My brother is going to kill himself,” Katie said, terrified by what she had just witnessed.

  “All right, our next contestant is a local boy from Sandy High School, age seventeen,” the announcer said. “Let’s give it up for Dax Farrington!”

  They looked over at the bullpen, where Dax was listening to someone who looked to be giving him instructions. Then Dax climbed over the rail and straddled the bull, which started to shake in the pen. The aggravated animal snorted and tried to move. Dax’s eyes were wide as he began to tighten his grip on the reins.

  “Hey, guys,” Brandon said, jumping up next to them and wrapping his arms over the top of the wooden fence. He had on jeans with a tight white T-shirt, and aviator shades. His dark, curly black hair was perfectly cut to an inch around his whole head. “What are we watching?”

  “Dax has gone crazy,” Katie said.

  “Sweet!” Brandon said, smiling and waving at Dax as he glanced over. Dax forced a smile and then exhaled hard as the announcer began the countdown.

  “Three…two…one…go!”

  The rodeo clown pulled hard on the gate, releasing the bull from the cage. It immediately began its violent thrashing and leaping. Dax jerked back and forth as he clung to the reins. The bull spun around, trying to toss the rider. A display showed the count, which was ticking toward the eight-second mark. Dax made it to the allotted time, causing the crowd to erupt in cheers.

  “Yeah, boy!” Brandon said.

  His expression quickly changed when he saw Dax trying to release his tight grip while the bull continued to buck wildly. The rodeo clowns ran toward the animal, trying to calm it so that Dax could jump off, but the bull decided to run, taking Dax on a joyride around the arena.

  “Jump off, dude!” Tanner yelled. They could see Dax’s terrified expression as the bull carried him around the arena.

  “What do we do?” Katie asked helplessly.

  “What can we do?” Allora said.

  Finally, Dax got his hand loose and leapt from the creature, rolling along in the mud. He got his footing as the bull spun around, found its target, and lifted Dax into the air. His body flailed as he was tossed backward, spinning wildly. He landed face-first into the mud. The rodeo clowns were able to distract the animal as Dax sprinted toward the side and leapt over the fence right next to Brandon. His face was covered in mud, and he was panting profusely, his hands on his knees. The crowd erupted with cheers as the others got down from the fence.

  “Dude, that was the most epic rodeo ride I’ve ever seen!” Brandon said, patting him on the back.

  “Yeah, epically stupid!” Katie said, slapping him on the side of his shoulder. “What did I tell you about not getting skewered?”

  “The bull didn’t listen,” Dax replied, rubbing his bruised backside.

  “You seriously caught some air when that thing bucked you off,” Tanner added. “I hope you at least won something.”

  Dax glanced over at a group of girls in the stands who were waving and yelling at him.

  “I guess you could say I won something,” Dax said with a huge grin.

  “Oh, that reminds me,” Brandon interrupted. “My dad’s off piloting for some of his business clients, so I’ve got sign duty.”

  “What is that?” Katie asked.

  “You hook a banner on the back of the plane and fly it across the fair. It’s advertising for some local used car lot. You wanna come?”

  “I had no idea that you passed your solo pilot license exam,” Dax said, wiping the mud from his face.

  “Finished it just last month. I’m super stoked about it. Hopefully it will help me get into the Air Force Academy.”

  “You want to fly fighter jets?” Allora asked, unable to hide her disbelief.

  “It’s my childhood dream. I’ve never wanted anything more in this world.” He stood up straighter and smiled proudly. “So what do you guys say? It’s a great day to fly.”

  “Sure, I think that we’re down,” Tanner said.

  “Yeah. Why not?” Allora said.

  “Cool,” Brandon said.

  They got into Tanner’s car and quickly left the fairgrounds, heading for Oral Hull Road and the small parking lot of Sandy River Airport. Lining the grass field were about ten small private planes and three hangars. Brandon and Allora walked to the air traffic control station, while the others waited outside. The small room was on the second floor of a rusty warehouse that looked like a converted barn. The pungent smells of oil, gas, and grass were everywhere. An old microphone stood in the middle of the air traffic control desk, with maps, old airplane parts, and crumpled up fast-food wrappers littered throughout the room. A toilet flushed, and an old, fat man emerged from a back room. He wore an undersized white T-shirt that was stained with grease, and his jeans were covered in black oil. He rubbed his hands with a cloth while looking over at who had entered his sanctuary.

  “Hey, Brandon,” the old guy said, sitting in his chair.

  “What’s up, George?” Brandon replied. “Came to take out the plane.”

  “Your dad all right with you going solo? Or somewhat solo.”

  “Yeah, he’s good with it.”

  “All right. Skies are pretty clear. Just make sure to stay around five thousand,” George said, going back to his maps and charts.

  They left the control station and walked over to the hangar to prepare for takeoff. The plane was an older, white Cessna that Brandon’s father used for private lessons and air advertising. It was small and lightweight, with two propellers on the wings in front and enough seats for six passengers.

  “Hey, Jenny!” Allora said as the precocious blonde came from inside the plane and dropped down the mobile stairs. “How you been? I haven’t seen you all summer.”

  Jenny looked radiant
in her flowered yellow dress and matching slippers. Her bright-blond hair hung down in waves, and her lips were pink and glossy. On her wrist was a skinny metallic band, which seemed out of place for her outfit.

  “I’ve been all right,” Jenny said with a docile expression. Something inside her had changed. The confident, perky cheerleader had had her innocence stolen only a few months back. The world was no longer small. The feeling was familiar, as it had happened to Allora on the night she’d learned the truth about her otherworldly origin. “It took a while for my bones to heal. I still can’t remember a thing from that night. It’s all a blur.” Allora just listened as Jenny rehashed what she had remembered and the questions she had. There wasn’t much Allora could do to explain what had occurred, but she felt bad that Jenny was so distraught. “Did the FBI come to see you?”

  “Yeah, they drilled me with questions for over an hour,” Allora said, recalling her encounter with Agent Phillips. Brandon went around them and climbed into the plane. Tanner gave Jenny a hug and followed Brandon into the plane.

  “Dax told me that you and Brandon are dating,” Allora said.

  Jenny smiled and glanced at the cockpit. “It’s funny how feelings can change about someone when you find out who they truly are.”

  “Ah, yeah!” Allora said, slightly nudging her old nemesis.

  Jenny smiled and pushed her back. “Jury is still out on that one.”

  After yanking the wheel stoppers from underneath, George put his thumb up and went back into the flight control room. Brandon checked the oil pressure and gas gauge and initiated preflight protocols. Allora got into the back next to Tanner, while Katie took a seat in front of her, and Dax sat down next to the door.

  Brandon started the airplane and taxied it to the beginning of the runway. “George, we clear for takeoff?” A crackle followed over the intercom. “George?” More static followed. “George!”

  Finally, a voice came over the radio.

  “Yep, clear,” George said with a slight grumble like he had his mouth full of food.