The Unknown

The Unknown

Poseidon’s Grace chap. One

The darkened night roared as lightning split the sky and waves rolled in off the ocean, two stories high. The gods were angry, and thunder rolled violently shaking the core of even the stoutest buildings. People were boarding up their houses and fleeing inland calling it ‘Hurricane Katrina’. New Orleans would never be the same. This was the fourth time it had hit, and the devastation was far greater than ever before. The storm was so deafening that the blood-curdling screams of a teenage girl went unheard as she brought forth a newborn son amid the chaos. Her father’s airboat violently lashed around as they were trying to escape the bayou. The wind was so torrent that the man was ripped from the boat and devoured by a frenzy of alligators. As she held her son hearing his first cries her eyes widened at the black sky. A brilliant orb of blue shot towards her small boat. Tears soaked her cheeks from the loss of her loving father and the birth of her child.

“Why?” That was all she could ask as the orb struck and the blue flames of the explosion engulfed her and the boat.

Present Day 2085

New Orleans

Cage sat on the roof of his house looking out at the ocean. He had just studied the Hurricane of 2070 and couldn’t imagine how something so large could come out of the serenity of the ocean. They said it was the worse hurricane in known history to hit and it nearly wiped out, half of the United States of America. Everything was different now since they had to rebuild and so many lives had been lost. The land was gone, and New Orleans was a water city now. One, that was built with a new material that was supposed to be indestructible. Now when there was a hurricane approaching the city, alarms were sounded and translucent shields were brought up to make New Orleans a living snow globe, as the waters raced over and around it, but were never able to truly damage it. Most of the city was rebuilt on the ocean floor and underground, which ironically made this new development very effective. The parks and residential areas, however, were still above the water for nutrients that came from the sun.

“I wonder what would happen if another hurricane that strong hit and the shields didn’t hold?” Cage thought out loud as he rested his elbows on his upraised knees. His family lived on the furthest outskirts of the water city. If a hurricane hits it usually hit their side first. It was also known as the slums of the city. Where the poor and deprived lived.

“Cage, get down here, your grandpa is waiting.” His mother called up to him from their kitchen window. She always seemed to know where he was. Rolling his eyes, he slid off the edge of the roof and dangled just above, their pathetic little yard for a moment. “You know I don’t like it when you do that.” His mother sternly told him putting her hands on her hips and giving him a disapproving look through the window.

“Why do I always have to train with grandpa?” Cage asked as he dropped down landing in a squat.

“Listen I know you want to be like the other kids, but you can’t be. You have a destiny, and you need to be prepared for it. When we found you in the wreckage of that boat 15 years ago. We made a promise to the gods, and we have to hold up to that.” His mother sighed and started washing dishes once again.

“You made a promise, I was barely born still attached to my crispy mother’s corpse.” Cage grumbled, he did want to go and hang out like the other kids, but he wasn’t allowed to. He tried it once and when he took off his shirt to go swimming with them, they flipped out about the trident birthmark on his back, nearly killing him. After that, he didn’t try to make friends anymore. Instead, he focused on his training, from his ex-marine grandfather.

“I don’t see why I have to keep your dumb promise.” He grumbled walking around to enter through the side door slamming it behind him as he stormed through the kitchen and headed toward the dojo his grandfather ran. It was just his luck to be in a family of Shanghai monks. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he didn’t like it.

“You are late Cage.” His grandfather calmly said never opening his eyes or coming out of his meditative pose.

“Yeah, sorry grandpa.” Cage apologized and lowered himself to his knees, pressing his forehead to the mat in greeting. “I’ll do better in the future.”

“Let us begin.” The old man said finally standing up as he clasped his hands behind his back. Cage took a deep breath and pushed himself up to land in a fighting stance. This lesson was sparring techniques and his grandfather may be a patient man, for the most part. But he was most generally a right here right now man when it came to Cage’s training.

“Attack.” His grandfather firmly said, and Cage sprang forward, using every skill he had learned to try and land a blow. He failed though; his grandfather dodged with ease as if he wasn’t even trying. Sweat beaded on his brow and he continued to attack. He felt like he had nothing left, when his grandfather pulled a sweep Cage managed to jump the first one but was taken down by a palm strike, he hadn’t even seen coming.

“You must always be prepared for the unexpected.” His grandfather said pacing around him as he laid on the mat gasping for air and holding his chest. “The people you may be going up against don’t pull their blows as I do. If it were one of them, you would be dead. Now get up.”

“What people?” Cage shouted pushing himself up. This city was full of complacent people just living their lives. None of them did anything wrong and why would he want to hurt other humans anyways? Sure, there was, crime, but it was handled by the police, so he wasn’t seeing the point of all this training. What could he possibly do that the police couldn’t?

“The people looking for the grace of the gods. I have spoken with you about this many times. Why do you not listen to the wisdom I am offering you?” His grandfather evenly asked.

Cage got to his feet and rolled his body to loosen the muscles that seemed to have tightened and then he moved into a fighting stance once again. This time watching the old man closely.

“There isn’t a supernatural being with supernatural powers. There is simply; human beings who are no better than anyone else.” Cage growled and his grandfather sighed.

“That is only because they haven’t found you yet. Now attack!” His grandfather’s voice went from an even tone to an almost irritated one.

“Whatever, you old loon.” Cage rolled his eyes and moved in, to attack, he nearly landed a blow, but still, the old man was faster and more graceful.

“Focus!” His grandfather scolded him, after landing yet another strike that cause him to hit the mat on his back. “I have taught you better than this.”

The longer Cage was in there, the angrier he got and the more he hit the mat. He had lost all track of time, as he repeatedly shot to his feet and attacked again and again, never landing a hit.

“That is enough.” The old man growled finally reaching his limits of irritation. “You are letting your anger control your moves and fighting requires calm collective moves. It is time to meditate to find your inner peace.”

“What? I can do this.” Cage angrily declared wiping the sweat off his brow.

“No, as long as you act out of anger you will not be able to strike me. Now it is time to meditate.” His grandfather sternly stated and sat down folding his legs under him, as he rested his hands on his knees, palms up, and closed his eyes.

Cage sighed pushing his frustration down as he plopped down onto the mat and mimicked his grandfather’s position. Then he closed his eyes and tried to quiet his mind. It didn’t work.

Two Hours Later

Cage groaned rubbing the back of his neck. His muscles ached from sitting for so long, not to mention the sparring wasn’t all that gentle either. He was sure that his grandfather wasn’t being as gentle as he usually was, with him. The hot shower he had just taken did help a little, but not completely. Tired he laid back on his bed with his towel wrapped around his waist and stared up at the night sky, through the transparent ceiling of his room. The night was hot as usual, but the stars twinkled brightly lulling him to sleep. (Crazy old man. There isn’t any supernatural being that I have to fight.) he thought to himself right before sleep claimed him.

It was early morning when he was awakened by the sound of furniture being destroyed downstairs. Shooting up off his bed, he quickly pulled on a pair of pajama pants and grabbed the old rifle he kept hidden in his room, as he shot toward the door. Slamming into it instead of managing to open it he hit the floor with a thud, that knocked his breath out of him. Groaning he rolled onto his side and his eyes fell on the window. With all his training he should be able to scale the wall down to find out what was going on, but he wasn’t sure he had gotten that skill down just yet. He heard another crash of furniture and quickly draped the strap of his rifle across his chest as he ran to the window. Quickly opening it he climbed out and began to make his way down the outside of the house. Landing in a crouch just outside of the kitchen. He took a deep breath and exhaled in relief that he had made it. It had been, touch, and go there for a minute.

(Okay) He mentally said and made his way toward the dojo doors in a low crouch. If there was something bad attacking their home, the dojo was the safest way to enter without being seen. He wasn’t quite to the point of being too worried, with his grandfather in the house. Whoever was attacking if there was anyone attacking would have to be super skilled to beat his grandfather in a battle. However, he was slightly concerned that if they had weapons, his grandfather didn’t stand a chance. Remaining in a crouched position he pressed his back against the outside wall of the dojo and pulled his gun around to the front of him to make sure that it was still loaded.

He silently cursed when he realized there were only a couple of shots left in the clip and one in the chamber. He hadn’t even thought about reloading it after the alligator hunting the other day. Most generally they didn’t have a use for it. Figuring that it wouldn’t do any good to think about it now, he silently retrieved the spare key off from under the flowerpot and reached up to unlock the door.

Turning the knob, he slowly opened the door and crept inside. There were no lights on in the dojo, so it was fairly dark, and he had to let his eyes adjust to it. Unlike, the ceiling in his bedroom, the rest of the rooms were standard. Quietly placing his barefoot onto the sparring mat, he shot towards his grandfather’s weapons rack, and carefully removed the two katanas he had there. He hadn’t had much training on the weapons, but if he could get them to his grandfather then the old man stood a chance in fighting against one or more opponents. Twirling them silently he began to make his way to the door that connected to the house. He hadn’t heard his mother screaming or anything, so he was getting kind of worried about her.

Carefully placing one foot in front of the other he closed the distance between the door and his position with little to no sound. Staying low he glanced out the window in the door and could make out some movements in the front room. It looked like a war zone in the hall. He could barely see a few corpses laying on the floor and figured that his grandfather had been fighting for some time. Knowing that he wondered where his mother was, his heart began to race, not knowing if she was alive or not. Taking a shaky breath, he silently started to pull the door open enough to slip through it. He would have to check the dead to make sure that his mother wasn’t one of them. Slipping through the opening he got as close to the floor as he could and silently crept toward the first body. Reaching down he turned it over and checked for a pulse, it was a man, and he was still alive, but only just.

Stepping over him he continued towards the front room in silence, holding one of the two swords up in front of him in case he would have to use it to defend himself. With each body, he came to, he silently checked them and continued on his way. As he neared the end of the hallway, he was forced to press his back against the wall, as the fighting came towards him. His wounded grandfather had sent an opponent into the wall with enough force to knock the guy out but was attacked just as quickly by another one. Mustering up the courage, he shot out of the hallway and straight into the middle of the fight. Dropping to his knees, he used the sword to knee cap the man that was fighting with the old man. The man screamed in pain as the blade sliced into him and he hit the floor. His grandfather stood there a little wobbly and looked down at him.

“Grandpa.” He quietly said and quickly stood up to help support the battered old man’s weight.

“Give me the swords and go get your mother. You two need to get to safety while I hold them off.” His grandfather calmly instructed taking the sword out of his hand and then holding his free hand out for the other.

“I’m not leaving you to fight these men alone, you’re too old to do it and you should just acknowledge that.” Cage stated and stepped out in front of the old man who seemed to be verily able to remain conscious as they hurried through the living room. “Where is mom anyway?”

“I sent to the woodshed through the tunnel.” His grandfather said through labored breathing.

“Then that is where we will go.” Cage took charge of the situation, and his grandfather smiled a sad smile. The boy was coming into his own and he didn’t even realize it.

“I destroyed the tunnel after I sent her through so that they couldn’t follow.” His grandfather admitted leaning against the wall to catch his breath. Cage didn’t notice the man was wounded worse than he had thought he was and was still bleeding.

“Who are they?” Cage asked veering towards the front door instead of the tunnels since they were no longer accessible.

“Stop boy.” His grandfather said reaching out with his free hand to stop him. Cage stopped when he felt the man’s hand on his shoulder, and he turned around to give him a questioning look. Why the heck was he stopping him now. His mother may be in grave danger and the longer that they sat here, the more likely they wouldn’t find her alive. “This isn’t a minor attack. They will have men posted outside to kill anyone who exits that door.”

“Then how are we going to get to mom?” Cage asked, not knowing what to do now. He didn’t know another way out of the house and if they had men positioned on the outside to kill anyone who exited the house, then they most likely had men watching all the windows as well.

“Give me a moment to think and then I’ll figure it out.” The old man breathed, looking tired and defeated as he closed his eyes and fell silent.

“We don’t have time Grandpa.” Cage whispered moving to put the old man’s arm over his shoulder to help him keep moving. “Grandpa?” He called again when the guy didn’t appear to be breathing. “Grandpa…...” Now he was worried and shook the old man, to try to get him to wake up or open his eyes or something.

“We go out the front door, but I go first and once we’re outside, you need to make a break for it.” The old man finally responded as he coughed up some blood.

“I thought you said that they would be waiting out there to take our lives the moment we open the door.” Cage reminded.

“Yes.” The old man nodded and used what strength he had to push off the wall and quickly move towards the door. He didn’t give Cage time to stop him, so the boy had no choice but to follow. The moment the door was opened his grandfather's body shook, as they filled it full of bullets. Cage gasped and fell back as his grandfather’s lifeless body hit the floor in front of him. His eyes widened and he found it hard to catch his bread as shock and panic kicked in. All he could do was curl up on the floor and wait for the bullets to stop firing into the house. When it fell silent, scurried forward and quickly pulled his grandfather’s body out of the way for him to shut the door. Scrambling back, he pressed his back against the wall and fought for air as his eyes darted around the room.

“Mom.” he gasped when he finally came to his senses. Everything seemed surreal as he tried to think of some way to get to his mother before she was killed too. He scrambled around in the dark until he felt the hilt of his grandfather’s sword and then stumbled to his feet heading back the way he had come. If they hadn’t seen him scale the wall and come in through the dojo, then there was a good chance that nobody was placed behind the house. He hadn’t seen any boats out on the water, but he hadn’t looked either. “Okay then.” He breathed and looked around to try to figure out what he could do when his eyes fell onto one of the unconscious men laying on the floor.

“Alright, let's see if they will kill one of their own.” He told himself and quickly fastened the swords onto his back, as he silently rushed around to collect as many weapons as he could out of the dojo. Once he had them all in place on his body he went back into the hallway and pulled one of the men to his feet. The guy groaned as he began to come to.

“I hope your, boss values you.” Cage growled and rushed out the door holding the man out in front of him like a shield. Suddenly he felt the force of bullets felting the body and instead of letting it fall backward, he pushed forward toward the edge of the ocean.

“Get him.” Someone shouted from somewhere as he neared the edge of the waters.

“No! Run!” His mother screamed causing him to pause in his actions and look towards her voice. His eyes widened as they plunged a knife through her heart.

“No……” He cried out right before an explosion sent him flying into the water as it destroyed his house. His vision went blurry as he sank to the bottom of the ocean, was it finally the end of his miserable life? Would he be joining his birth mother soon? He had nothing left to live for. Whoever these people were, they killed his adopted family right before his eyes, and right now all he wanted was to go with them into the afterlife.

Three Days Later

Cage’s eyes flew open as seaweed entangled him. Panic set in and he began struggling against the seaweed, fighting for air, until he realized he was breathing under the salty ocean water. Closing his eyes, he calmed his mind and then opened his eyes and systematically started untangling himself. Once he was free his normal way of thinking kicked in and he pushed off from the sandy bottom, swimming toward the surface. When he broke the surface, he gasped for air and found it hard to catch for a moment. His lungs suddenly felt like they were on fire and his skin seemed to crawl. Just when he was sure that he was drowning in air, he slowly began to breathe it instead.

“What the…” He whispered and started swimming towards the shore that he saw in the distance. He had no idea where he was, and nothing even looked familiar as he got closer. Out of breath he crawled up onto the beach and rolled onto his back, his chest heaving from exertion. He could verily feel the sand on his bareback and noticed that his weapons were gone. They must have been blown up with the explosion, but why then wasn’t he hurt worse?

Exhausted he closed his eyes and let his hand rest on his stomach soaking in the cool salty ocean breeze. It felt good on his skin, and she let himself drift off to sleep. Only to wake up a short time later, when the sun was high above him. He spotted some vultures circling in the air and rolled onto his stomach. He would have been fine to die in the explosion, but being eaten alive by birds, wasn’t his ideal way to go. He was pretty sure that it would be painful to endure.

As he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees his reality set him and he cried, pressing his forehead into the sand as he slammed his fist repeatedly into the earth. How could this happen to his family? They never hurt anyone and didn’t deserve to die like that. Now he was alone and lost, with no idea what to do next. He wasn’t even sure that he would be able to survive without them. Taken over by his grief, he dropped back down on the ground and curled up into a fetal position as he circled his arms around himself. Sometime later he finally pushed himself up and stared out at the land that lay before him. He felt like he was in a fog and even though his stomach rumbled, he couldn’t bring himself to think about food as he slowly put one foot in front of the other, heading away from the ocean. The waves lapping against the shoreline behind him were the only thing that seemed to be heard. The sun was setting, and the sky had darkened with the onset of night. His family would have said it was by the grace of Poseidon, that he lived.

He stumbled into some trees and leaned against one, sliding down its trunk to sit on the ground. Pulling his knees up to his chest he folded his arms on top of them and buried his face in the folds. He didn’t want to continue. All he wanted to do was sleep and never wake up. At least in his dreams, he might be able to return to his normal life. A life that seemed like a shadow in his mind now that it was over. Raising his head, he looked up at the stars ignoring the tears that flowed down his face and dripped onto his chest. He could still hear his mother’s voice screaming for him to run and when he closed his eyes, he saw her death, before his mind flashed back to his grandfather being hit with more bullets than he could count.

Suddenly filled with rage he stumbled to his feet and started screaming, throwing punches at the air until finally, they connected with the stout trunk of a weird-looking tree. He saw the blood spraying from his split knuckles, but in his anger, he didn’t feel the pain or stop the relentless attacks, until he just couldn’t stand anymore. Then he buried his face in the bark of the tree and lowered himself down to his knees, too exhausted to even cry anymore.

The next few days were a blur, as he aimlessly traveled across lands he didn’t even know, with no destination in mind. He felt like he was trapped in a shell and there was no escape for him. His steps grew sluggish, and he stumbled more often than not as he entered some tall grass. He didn’t even notice the small farmhouse peeking over the hill he was now walking up. To him, nothing in this world felt real and he just didn’t want to think about anything. He was a ghost of himself when he finally fell to his knees and wasn’t able to stand back up. Heck, he didn’t want to keep moving so, he just sat there on his knees and stared at the sunrise in the distance. He didn’t even notice the girl that was rapidly approaching him with her father.

“Hey, are you okay?” The girl asked, but her voice was a distant mumble to his senses. “What do you think happened to him?” She asked somebody else, but he didn’t pay much attention to that either.

“I don’t know girl, help me get him to the house and we’ll have the doc come look at him.” A man said, just as Cage toppled over sideways and let the darkness consume him. He felt the sensation of being lifted and carried, but it didn’t register in his mind that it was happening.

Lyla

Lyla wasn’t sure that she was seeing a boy staggering in the direction of her father’s farm. They rarely had people out this far from New Orleans and she found it somewhat odd. Curious she called out to her dad and tried to get a better look at the kid.

“What is it?” Her father asked coming out of the barn, wiping blood off from his hands. He had just helped a heifer deliver a calf.

“Look.” She pointed at the distant figure. “Looks like something is wrong with him.” She added and started walking in that direction.

“I’ll be damned.” Her father breathed; he almost didn’t believe his eyes. He knew this kid from the city, but he didn’t know why he was out this far, or what happened to him. He had heard rumors about the kid and his family dying in an explosion caused by a gas line leak. Yet here the kid was and that was a bit weird. “Well, let's go check on him.” He added taking the lead. His daughter quickly caught up to him and kept pace with him as they called out to the boy.

The kid seemed to be out of it though like he didn’t even notice that they were there. This had him a bit concerned about what had happened to the boy’s family and how was it that he had survived three days on his own. Better yet how the hell did he make it this far away from the big city if he got blown up.

“What do you think happened to him?” Lyla asked when he dropped to his knees and seemed not to hear them approach.

“I don’t know. Help me get him back to the house girl, we’ll call the doc and have him come check him out.” her father said moving to help the boy stand up, but the kid fell over sideways unconscious before he had the chance to. So, instead, he just picked the kid up and started carrying him back towards the farmhouse. It wasn’t easy though, the boy had to have weighed at least 160 lbs., so the progress was slow, even with Lyla trying to help the best she could.

“Get the door girl.” He, instructed as they got onto the porch. “Call the Doc Linda, we have a guest that needs tending too.” He called out to his wife who was still in her nightclothes drinking coffee at the table.

“Oh goodness.” The woman gasped and quickly did as he told her to do.

“Pull those blankets back Lyla.” Her father commanded the moment they entered the guest room. She darted around him and quickly did as he told her to do. Then she darted out of the way so that she could lay the kid down. “Go get him some water and a cool wet rag to put on his head. Then I want you to go upstairs and see if your older brother left any of his old clothes here when he went off to college.” Her father told her and left the room to go talk to the doctor and his wife had on the phone. She couldn’t answer the guy's questions since she hadn’t been with them when they found the kid.

“That poor boy.” Linda breathed covering her mouth with her hand as her husband took the phone. “Do you know who he is dear?”

“No.” He smoothly lied, there were only a few people who knew that kid and his adopted family. They were pretty much ordered to keep their existence quiet for some great event that was supposed to change the world in some way. He couldn’t quite remember everything that he had been told fifteen years ago when he pulled that baby out of the shattered boat, he was laying in. Mr. Kim and his daughter had taken the boy in, but they were very mysterious about the reasons behind it. He just figured that the woman wanted a baby and since she was widowed, it was likely her only chance to get one, so he didn’t pry. They were good people who followed the ways of Budha and only did kind things for other people.

“I found sweats and a couple of t-shirts in Andy’s old stuff,” Lyla said coming into the kitchen with an armload of old clean clothes. “They look like they might be a little big on him though, he’s not exactly plump like Andy was,” Lyla added as she looked at her father.

“They will have to do….” Her father said and then returned to his conversation with the old family doctor on the other end of the line. “Alright, we’ll see you in about an hour. I’ll go change him out of his dirty clothes and then we’ll try to keep him hydrated until you get here.” He nodded, “Thanks Doc.” He finished and hung up the phone before looking at the questioning looks on his family's faces.

“Well, what did he say?” Lyla demanded as she plopped the clothes down on the table and rested her fist on her hips.

“He’ll be here within the hour, in the meantime, I want you to boil some water to use on his forehead and grabbed some bottled water out of the fridge for him to drink. While you are doing that, I’ll go change his clothes for him, so they can be washed.” Her father said not sure if he should say much more about the kid to them or not. He decided that he would just keep it to himself for their safety at least until he talked to the police and found out what happened to the kid's family.

“Well, I can change him.” Lyla offered, trying to keep a straight face.

“No.” her father flatly said retrieving the clothes and heading for the room. He made sure that the door was shut behind him and went about his task as quickly as he could. He wasn’t all that comfortable having to do this for some other person’s kid.

Lyla looked at her mother’s disapproving look and shrugged holding her hand out innocently.

“What?” She asked knowing full well what was going through her mother’s mind at the moment, the boy was cute, with his Ash brown curls and golden-brown skin. She felt her cheeks heat up and then narrowed her eyes. “Stop staring at me Sheesh.” She said and quickly left the room, deciding that her mother could handle the things the boy needed.