Frosted Blood by Larry Pellitteri

Author:Larry Pellitteri
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Juvenile Fiction, General
ISBN: 9780692281819
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services LLC - KDP Print US
Published: 2014-11-03T11:02:56.165444+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

When Michael and Emma arrived at Enbright the next day, they were surprised to find the campus buzzing with construction crews preparing for the Urashi convention that night. To get to the entry, they had to make their way around workers setting up canvas tents for temporary housing. Once inside, they went straight to their workstations, trying not to draw attention to themselves.

Michael tapped his foot nervously every time Jeremy walked by.

Later in the morning, Damien stepped out of the elevator and headed straight for Jeremy. “Jeremy,” he said in a tone like a drill sergeant. “Return to work at ten this evening. I want to test the satellites after the convention.”

“Yes, sir,” Jeremy said, and then he turned and mechanically walked away.

Michael thought for a moment. This might be an opportunity to learn more about the Urashi. He texted Emma with Damien’s plans.

“I know,” Emma texted back. “I overheard Jeremy talking on the phone.”

“They’re going to be preoccupied getting ready for the test, so somewhere after five o’clock, I’ll sneak into the convention.”

“Are you out of your mind? What if you get caught?”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Promise me you’ll call after the convention. I want to know that you’re OK.”

Pleasant tingles traveled up Michael’s spine as he reread the last text several times. He smiled and punched in, “I promise.”

At 4:55 p.m., Michael programmed a camera app on his phone to send pictures to his home computer. He texted Emma to let her know what he was doing and then placed the phone behind his bobblehead at an angle that would catch the main screen in the control center. At five fifteen, he boarded a shuttle.

Michael stepped off in front of a drab olive tent. The noise coming from the stadium sounded like disharmonious trumpets blaring, and it was so loud that it made his eardrums shudder in his skull. Without turning his head, he scanned the area. There were hundreds of people marching to the stadium.

Michael trotted over and joined the crowd. Tens of thousands of Damien’s followers were already seated when he entered. Still, he was able to find a seat.

Moments later, Damien appeared on the cliff dressed in a long, dark-brown fur cape running from the top of his head down his back and to his ankles. In his hand, he held a tall wooden staff topped with a golden dragon’s head. He started chanting in a foreign language and then paused. Everyone stood and repeated what he had said.

After an hour, several beefy shirtless men with chest tattoos of a dragon with a curved tail forming a circle ran out onto the stadium floor. They lined up in front of a stone wheel that was lying flat on the ground and started pushing. The sound of metal scraping along rock reverberated throughout the stadium. As the lid fell to the side, steam, illuminated by a purplish light, rose from the uncovered well.

The men all gazed upward to the cliff. Seven people wearing nothing but small red cloths covering their privates walked out.

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