summersville
Chapter 4
[[Revelations]]
Maylene hit the ground in front of the coastline with a soft thud, letting the two battered children on her shoulders fall to the sand.
"Oh joy," she muttered. "Timmy's gonna be fun to see again."
She placed her hands in front of her: her left hand was opened to the palm, fingers spread apart, while her right was behind it, holding it steady. It was rather difficult, and her wrist began to hurt from the sheer force she put on it. She watched as a light pink energy coursed in between her fingers and sent itself to a focal point on the center of her palm. It burned immensely, as the orb it was gathering into ground against her skin. She allowed herself to bare it with teeth clenched. She used her stabilizing hand to lift her energy-gathering hand upward.
The energy shot forward with a loud bang, and the seawater separated. The sound of the water parting was even less bearable than the sound of the energy: it was a deafening roar, as the salty liquid continued to move to the sides, allowing room for the massive thing she knew to come. And seconds later, here it was.
Out of the abyss she had created came a massive brown thing. Soon, eyes came up as well, followed by fin-like extensions, and finally the bottom of its rough shell. It was a humongous turtle. May allowed her hand to fall to her side, wincing. She would deal with its injury later, along with the injury in her foot.
"'lo there, Timmy," she said.
"Again, Maylene?" Timmy asked. His mouth did not move: she heard this in her head. "We just got finished talking. A turtle like myself goes through some very important business, and I can't afford to be called upon so often."
"Do you not see these two kids, bloody and unconscious, on the sand, Timmy? I hate to call on ya. I really do. But I need to fuckin' move, and I need to move now."
Timmy let loose a sigh that nearly blew May away. "Fine. Grab on. Remember though, salt water in wounds hurts."
May grinned. "I'm sure these kiddos can handle it."
With one hand, she grabbed both of the children by their shirts, using her other to grab onto Timmy's oddly flexible shell. She shut her eyes and prepared for what she knew would come: and here it was. They were rushing downward, the pressure of the sea increasing as more and more water piled on top of them. Her palm ached miserably, and the weight of the children on her arm wasn't helping the situation. Her breath was beginning to fade, too. She was going to die if Timmy didn't hurry.
But he did, and moments later they resurfaced in a massive plume of water. May let go of Timmy's shell, feeling herself falling to the sandy beach of the one other place she knew was safe and could also help them heal.
The Planet Namek.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
The consistency of Jordan's consciousness was dreamlike: one second, he found himself in a blurry world, surrounded by odd figures with an odd heaviness to his limbs. The next, his world was black. During the blurry seconds, his breath induced sharp pains. During the black seconds, he felt safe and perfectly normal, except for a nagging fatigue. But he wanted to stay in the black seconds for forever, now. They were the best ones.
But they were getting less and less frequent, forcing him to realize his predicament. The blurriness of the other moments was alleviating, and the pain around him was intense. His limbs felt heavy, some muscles probably damaged. He had a few ribs broken; his stomach hurt him every time he drew in breath, so it was pretty obvious. His head hurt from this stone pad he was laying on. The lights in this room were a bright, glaring shade of green.
He sat up, despite his body's protests. He was in an empty room, except for one stone slab next to him, which he vaguely recognized as Catherine's huddled form. He saw her clothing was a bit torn up, revealing marks of bloody red dotting her body. He probably had the same bloody work of art on his body, too, but he didn't want to look down and see. He knew he couldn't stand, so he didn't bother trying.
He opened his mouth to try and say something, call for someone's attention, but he couldn't make a sound. His throat hurt.
But just his luck, a section of the wall - which was, apparently, a door and he hadn't realized it - opened, and a small figure stepped in. He was roughly a foot tall, dressed in a white robe with a red scarf around his neck. His skin was green, and his head was totally bald, featureless except for the antenna coming from them.
He had been abducted by little green men.
"...Oh, my," the small person said. "You're awake! Ms. Summers, Ms. Summers!"
The person turned outside and ran. A couple of minutes later, he came back in with a taller woman. She wore an orange gi and pants and a blue undershirt, her arms pressed against her hips. Her face was decorative: she wore a wide, toothy grin, and reached up, tucking a couple strands of her short, light pink hair behind her ear. She wore an odd pair of glasses down around her nose, eyes peering up over them.
"Seems we're awake, and obviously a lil' confused," the woman mused. "I'm surprised you're awake first. You got the beating. Your friend, she just-"
"...Sister," Jordan managed to choke out.
"Brother and sister, huh? Okay, then. Your sister, she just got the psychological trauma of it. I mean, that's bad, but she wasn't injured badly. Just a lot of cuts and bruises. You, however, have your top three pairs of true ribs bruised, some intercostal muscle strain, a broken leg and quite a few cuts and bruises. Those brutes beat you up pretty bad, and the car's explosion didn't quite help either. But, fear not, we'll have you both healthy by the end of the day."
"...What...in...the world..."
"Is going on?" the woman asked. "I can explain that to you later. Lay here and rest. The light in this room is bright and really fuckin' blindin', but it's got some special ki seeping into it. Isn't that right, Fyfe?"
Fyfe, the little green man at her side, nodded. "It's my specialty: medicine. I'll have you both fixed up by the end of the day!" With that, Fyfe scurried out, and the door shut. The woman sat down on the ground, using the wall as a rest.
"Name's Maylene Gideon Summers. May for short. You, kid? And your sister's, while we're at it."
"Jordan..." Jordan gasped. His breathing was admittedly growing less painful, but it still stabbed at him. "...and Catherine."
"Last names?"
"Durham..."
May seemed to get some sort of visceral reaction to this, coughing and sitting up straighter. However, she shook her head, then strangely enough nodded after that. "Alright. Pleasure to meet you two. Get some rest, Jordan."
Jordan laid his head back down onto the stone slab, and let himself fall off into a restless, painful and dreamless sleep.
"Calm down, kid, calm down!"
Jordan was awoken by the sound of his sister's agonized screams. Forgetting the fact that it would be useless, he swung his legs off the stone slab and hit the floor, moving over to her "bed". He sat down next to her, picked her up and held her against his chest, all within a few blurry seconds. He gently rocked from side to side, stroking her hair, whispering comforting words.
"...So someone's feeling better," May said. She looked at him like she was impressed. "I'll leave you two alone, alright? C'mon out when you're ready."
She left, and brother and sister sat there alone for what felt like hours. Jordan felt no pain, but mentally, he was exhausted and in agony. He knew his father was dead. His mother probably was, too. But he wouldn't sneak his suspicions into Catherine, for risk of setting off another crying spell.
Finally, he set Catherine aside and stood up. "I'm going outside, Catherine. I need to find out what's going on. It's up to you whether or not to come along."
Catherine stood up, grabbing hold of Jordan's hand. She nodded dutifully. The two of them walked outside, through the area where Jordan had, by now, recognized as the door.
The world around them was perhaps one of the most odd things Jordan Durham had ever seen in his life. It did not surprise him; no, nothing could surprise him now. But the grass in this place was a light shade of blue, while the sky and the seas surrounding their small island were both a glittering green. Trees with thin trunks and puffy blue balls resting atop them dotted the landscape. It was an awesome sight to see for the two, average human beings.
"I thought it weird too," May spoke up, stepping beside them and placing a hand on Jordan's shoulder, "when I first got here. I got kidnapped by a perverted old man, teleported here and thrown into a field that crushed me close to death about four times. You kids got the easy treatment." She grinned.
"...We're no longer on our home planet, we're surrounded by people we don't know, we just heard of our father getting killed and our mother is probably dead too, WE nearly died by some lummoxes and all of a sudden we get easy? No. Fuck you. Tell me what in the hell is going on here, May," Jordan said. He felt tears rising up in his eyes, but he refused to cry in front of Catherine.
"You're on the Planet Namek. You were taken here by a friend of mine. Earth, or at least Summersville, is in danger. A severe, extraterrestrial danger that the world hasn't faced since the likes of the Cell Games. But I fear this may be WORSE than the Cell Games... we may be facing the most powerful race in the universe."
"What the hell are the Cell Games? Extraterrestrial? Okay, I believe that - but what is the most powerful race in the universe then? It's all hard to believe, but lady, I believe the hell out of it. Nothing's unbelievable for me today. Just be more specific please."
"The Cell Games were an event in which an alien monstrosity who called himself Cell publicized a tournament. The tournament had an ultimatum attached to it: win, or Cell destroys the planet. It has been lost in the history books exactly what went on, but I know. A boy called Gohan defeated Cell, and the world was saved. Gohan was the son of the legendary hero Son Goku. His statue still stands in West City to this day. My name, once again, is Maylene Gideon Summers. I am the great granddaughter of Summersville's founder, Gideon Summers. He was a man of great knowledge, and shortly before his death, he taught me everything he knew. Including the Saiyan Race."
Her nose twitched, her eyes glowing with a sense of sorrow, wetness visible in the light of the sun.
"What are Saiyans?" Catherine asked.
"Monkey men, in short. They are just like humans, but have tails, at least in birth. They have an innate strength in them, sending them over the edge of human possibility. Son Goku was one. Son Gohan was half human being, half Saiyan." May smiled, expecting the next question.
Jordan glared at May. "And what does this have to do with the situation? We're not interested in history. We're interested in the now."
"This has to do with the fact that your father, Thomas Edgar Durham, was really named Parse. That is a Saiyan name, for your information. I knew him well in life. You, my friends, are the son and daughter of a new generation's hero - and it's time for you to step up to the plate."