The War of Majesty Peak by Ash Knight (book club suggestions .TXT) 📕

Jim in the eye, and what Jim saw there, he would never forget. "I'm asking you to do this for a five year-old little girl and a seven year-old little boy! Not for me, not for my mom, not for my father. But for two little kids, two little kids who are in a crumbled, burnt down, rickety old shack, waiting for me! Depending on me, for food, water, a place to sleep! Hoping to have atleast one night where their not curled up on the ground, struggling to stay warm! How can I give them any of that with a bunch of ediots out there trying to find and kill me?" He demanded, staring at Jim with pure, unadulterated pain in his eyes, pain for his brother, pain for his sister, and only guilt and contempt for himself.
"Ok. I'll do it, I'll give you a knew idenity, one for your brother and sister as well. You can keep your first names, and I'll clear it for you to have new last names. Where do you plan on staying?"


Chapter 2


"Damnit, Becca. Again, really? Why haven't you been down to the police station yet?" Jimmy demanded as he drove her home. She didn't have a car, and never took the bus, so today Jimmy was driving her home from school. Perfect, she thought.
"Because, with all the mess going on right now, it wouldn't help. Besides, what makes you think the Sheriff would actually put the jerk in jail, for good?" She asked, remembering the times her Uncle Herb had been thrown in the slammer for a night, and the next day, Aunt Janeen would always take him back. Her Uncle was onle forty two, her Aunt was thirty nine, so it wasn't like her Aunt would never find another guy, she was just to scared of Herb to kick him out for good.
"You'll never know unless you try. You promised Becca, so, before I take you home, I'm taking you by the station to file for a restraining order, for you and Aunt Janeen."
"No! Are you trying to get me beat to death?" She exclaimed, "Uncle Herb would kill me! The Mayor would never let it happen. Then, when Uncle Herb got home, me and Aunt Janeen would have to take the brunt of the entire mess!"
"Well what do you want me to do? Ignore it? Damnit Becca you know I can't do that!"
"Just give me some time, I have a plan. Soon as my plan falls through I'll file for a restraining order, me and Aunt Janeen both. I swear, on all the stars in the night sky!"
"Thats alot of stars." He grumbled.
"I've only ever counted up to two thousand one hundred and twenty six stars before I loose count."
"How much free time do you have?" He asked, clearly suprised.
"None, I just don't sleep much, ok? That's all."
"Oh."
They were silent for the rest of the drive. Jimmy dropped her off out side the house, and watched her as she walked up the steps and through the door, closing it softly behind her.
"Becca?" Her Aunt's sing song voice asked, it seemed to be coming from the kitchen.
"Yep." Becca answered, tossing her bag in the closet and walking into the kitchen.
"How was school?" Her Aunt asked, she was bent over a pot at the stove trying to save that nights dinner.
"So, so I guess. Jimmy picked me up. He saw the bruises and demanded to know why I hadn't been down to see the Sheriff yet."
"Oh, dear. I really am sorry. I wish..." She trailed off, staring at her neice with despair and remorse in her eyes.
"Its not your fault, M'athair mo chroi." Becca said, knowing the Irish words for Mother of my heart would help to make her feel better. Irish being her, and her Aunt's, first language, Becca knew her Aunt wouldn't need a translation.
Her Aunt gave her a watery smile, and said.
"I know you don't blame me as I do myself, and, that among many other reasons, is why I love you my dear."


Two hours later Herbert Cavera stormed into the house, cursing every thing and everyone he'd encountered that day. The forty seven year old man had gumpsion. He hated Majesty, but wouldn't leave.
"Good evening, Uncle." Becca said politly. "I'm going to go to bed early to night." She said, knowing he wouldn't answer.
She went up to her room, a big room with and Antique Victorian bed. The entire room was centered a dark green. Ignoring the bed, she walked over to her bug window and climbed out, onto the roof. She laid down and looked up at the night sky, with all its stars, airplanes, and darkness, she preffered it to the house inunder her. Staring at the stars she saw some airplanes and began to make a wish.
She pretended that the airplanes were shooting stars, knowing she needed a wish more than ever before. Knowing that it would never come true regardless.
She remembered the stranger she had met today, and made a wish to see him again. Made a wish to make a new friend the next day. Made a wish that she could just go home, back to Haven. Haven was small and remote, but it was home. It wasn't much different from Majesty, but, as long as there wasn't a Herbert Cavera there, it was the most wonderful place in the world.
Before makihng her last wish, she thought about the crash that had caused it all. About how her parents had been on their way home to her when they were recked. About how many ways it was her fault that they were dead. Mostly, she thought about the one aspect no one but her and her Aunt knew, how her mother had been pregnant with a baby boy at the time. How she had caused the death of a child, unborn or not.
She made her last wish, praying reverently before she had fell asleep that it would be answered. Sleep did not keep the wish from her minbd though. As she slet the words she had whisered burned them selves into her memory, heart, and very essence.
I wish I had been in that car too....


Chapter 3


"Gage, I'm hungry. Did you find any food?"
Every time he came back, Hailey asked the same question in the same hopeful tone, and every time Gage died a little inside at the sound. Mark stood beside his sister in the doorway, his expression looking all buisness and no play.
"Yep, I got you guys some burgers. You can take off anything you don't want thats on it." He said, staring at both of them.
They were in the same clothes they had been wearing the day he had yanked them off the side walk, shoved them into his hand me down truck, and drove, without looking back. He had come home to find both mothers dead body on their kitchen floor, covered in blood. They same blood that was smeared in handprints all over the kitchen walls and doors. From what he had seen, she had tried to escape, and failed. Her eyes had been wide with horror, and even now, he could almost feel them, staring at him with death. Accusing him, hating him,...loving all of them. He knew his mother had loved him, knew the accusing, and hating looks had been for the ones who had cut her up, her throut, her pixie face, her arms, legs,...everything. But he couldn't get rid of the guilt.
It was his fault. His fault his mother had been murdered. His fault his brother and sister were scared of every little sound or shadow. His fault they didn't have a solid home. His fault they had no family but him left. His fault they hadn't stayed in any one place for longer than forty eight hours for over three months.
But he would fix that. He would.
"Before we eat, I have a surprise." He said, staring at them after they had both sat down with their legs crossed beneath them, in front of him in anticipation. "Jim Cavera said he would help us. We're going to have the new start that I've been promising you guys. You can to school, and I'll get a job. We'll be staying in a small house in the woods behind Jim's place. How does that sound?"
His question was answered by the feel of two young kids in his arms immediately. That was all the answer he needed. They ate and moved out. An hour later, they met Jim Cavera at the bottom of the trail up to the little cabin. They climbed into the back of his car and waited. As soon as they were all settled in the little house, Jim left. Hailey and Mark fell asleep on the twin bed in the master bed room, and Gage took the couch.
He didn't sleep though. And after a while he got restless. He got up and went outside, he climbed onto the small room, and lay on it, beneath the stars. He watched the stars and remembered, back to the day of the funeral, the day that had been their mother’s death. Finally he began to drift. His last coherent thought drifted through his dreams.
Nemo me impune lacessit...
He who shall offend me beware...