Endgame: Sky Key by James Frey & Nils Johnson-Shelton

Author:James Frey & Nils Johnson-Shelton [Frey, James & Johnson-Shelton, Nils]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Science Fiction, Survival Stories, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Dystopian
Amazon: B00S58E8OI
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2015-10-04T16:00:00+00:00

HILAL IBN ISA AL-SALT, STELLA VYCTORY

Converted Warehouse off Bledsoe, Sunrise Manor, Nevada, United States

Hilal sits in a plastic chair at a wooden table. Stella is in the kitchen tending a kettle. She has removed the sweatshirt and is in a simple V-neck and tight black jeans. She has returned the machete labeled HATE to Hilal and even offered him a gun, if it would make him feel better. He said it wasn’t necessary.

As she puts tea bags in a pair of cups, Hilal says, “Miss Vyctory, I—”

“Stella. Please, call me Stella.”

“Stella—I am sorry, but I have some questions.”

“I’m sure you do,” Stella says, rounding the counter with two steaming cups of tea. “I do too.” She sits opposite Hilal and puts the cups down. “Pick one. Just so you know I’m not trying to poison you.”

Hilal points. Stella takes a big sip from that cup, cringing as the hot liquid goes down her throat, and passes it to Hilal. He doesn’t take it. Not yet.

Stella leans back, her hands behind her head. Hilal admires her composure. “Mind if I go first?”

Hilal, straight-backed and shamefully a little nervous, says, “Not at all.”

He is certain she will ask a question about his wounds, but instead she says, “How’d you find me?”

“I am a Player,” he says, as if that’s enough.

Stella shakes her head. “No offense, but you didn’t just luck into finding me. Something led you here. Something that I’d wager is pretty old. Something that belonged to one of Them,” Stella says, pointing at the ceiling.

Hilal doesn’t respond. He wants to hear what she has to say first.

“Because of Ea I’ve seen my fair share of strange things. Machines that had no discernable purpose, small rocks that float whenever I touch them, musical instruments made for seven-fingered hands, and an ancient stone map that somehow lights up. So I’m pretty sure you have something like this, am I right?”

“Perhaps.”

“I’d like to see it, if you don’t mind.”

“I am not sure I am comfortable—”

“Did you get it from the ark?”

Hilal is dumbstruck.

Stella says, “Me and my accolytes have been studying the 12 ancient lines for a long time. I know more than you might expect about the Aksumites. So—can I see it?”

Hilal considers this request for several moments before saying, “Yes. You can.” He carefully reaches into his pocket and pulls out the device and places it on the table. “This marked you—and him—with the sign of the caduceus. You are familiar with this sign?”

“Does the Pope shit at the Vatican?”

“Um . . .”

“Kidding. Yes, I know the caduceus.” Stella looks at the device, leans forward, squints. “Can I touch it?”

“Yes.”

She reaches across the table and as soon as her fingers grace the device, it glows to life, just as it does in Hilal’s hands. This is validating for Hilal. He becomes slightly more convinced that finding Stella was a stroke of luck.

Or of destiny.

“My, my,” Stella says.

“It does not do that for everyone, Stella.”

“Count me lucky, then.” She picks it up and moves it around the room.

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