Mayan Moon [ONC2024]

Chapter 6

The predawn air was chilly, but Roger hardly noticed. His breathing was steady and composed— a sign of his growth during the last few months. The Nike dry-fit clothing and premium running shoes Claire had gifted him felt alien. He had wanted to refuse, but her words echoed.

As he was getting ready for his run this morning, he thought about how she would feel, so he changed into them. She'll have a great smile when she comes with our coffee. As the months passed he had gotten addicted to her smile.

The trail was almost pitch black, but it was second nature to cycle Ch'ulel to enhance his senses as he ran like the Nácom Tzakab warriors of old. Thus, the darkness of the trail in Riverdale Park didn't bother him. A sense of communion with the earth, the wind, and his surroundings enveloped him as he moved, lost in thought— his footsteps were the only thing that broke the silence.

Claire's admissions from the day before swirled in his head. Not so much the romantic ones— although he had to admit it elated him that they were growing closer. Last night, she had kissed him before she went to her bedroom. It was just a light peck with a "goodnight, Honey." But still, the feel of her lips against him lingered.

But that was not what occupied his thoughts as his feet ate the miles. It was the other revelations. Western business elites knew about people like him. Her grandfather had actively searched for his bloodline for the last decade. The rise of Chinese business interest was directly linked to their Xiu Lian practice. Their use of Ch'i.

Western conglomerates kept losing to Chinese Interests, particularly in places like the Middle East and Africa where "might makes right" sometimes prevailed.

His Mayan heritage was seen as a counterpoint, and corporations and governments scoured Mexico and Guatemala, looking for people with his abilities. She candidly confessed that Chester had wanted grandchildren from them for that reason, and it was one of the reasons she refused intimacy with him.

He internally chuckled as he remembered her quip, "I'm not a broodmare, and you're not a stud to be put in a field together."

His memory went to earlier times, and he recalled fragments of conversations he had heard during his youth, and now they started to make sense.

The wind warned him before he actually detected the projectiles. Two darts with strings attached. He jumped and twisted, and they passed by harmlessly. Four black-clad men appeared from the shadows, and he sensed that three more were quickly coming up behind him.

Their faces were masked, and they had no discernible insignias. They started to surround him. Two pointed tasers at him.

Before the three behind him could complete the encirclement, he turned and intoned, "B'alam K'at." His only thought was Claire. His speed took the three men behind him by surprise. A kick to the center assailant broke his sternum. The other two fired their tasers as he passed.

He convulsed, but his Tata had trained him to fight even while disoriented and in pain. A pushed a torrent of Ch'ulel through his body, dispersed the current, and sped toward the house. His only thought was Claire.

Seconds later, he heard the house alarm blaring. As he approached, he sensed that all six guards were down; only three were breathing. As he reached the house, the door was wide open and strewed unconscious were the bodies of the bodyguards blocking the entrance.

"Claire!" he yelled, but the only sound was the alarm. Claire's bedroom was empty.

His phone rang, "give yourself up, and we won't harm her," a woman's voice said.

"I have a particular set of skills," the raspy voice of Liam Neeson flashed unbidden.

"You still have time to give her back. Harm her, and I will find you and make you watch as I sacrifice the beating hearts of your descendants to K'uk'ulkan," he said, his voice low, ominous, and menacing like the growl of a leopard defending its young. I'll find you, Claire! He hung up the phone.