Aegis Incursion Read Free Page B

piece of broken glass to broken arrowheads on the dirt—though his focus remained on the flame-haired man. He shouted to the stranger but his voice was drowned by the sounds of the aircraft’s thundering engines.
    As the gap closed between them, the man let out a pained cry that rose above the noise. He lurched forward before falling to the ground and lay motionless as his blood began to stain the dirt.
    The teenager screamed in terror and stumbled toward the man. Before he could reach him, everything went dark. Painful silence ensued. Then a voice spoke, rich and firm, with a touch of a peculiar accent:
    The storm is gathering, Jag.
    Wake up!
    JAG!
    Jag Sanchez bolted upright in his bed, gasping for air. As he caught his breath, he stared at the wall ahead, not realizing he was sweating but very aware that every part of him was trembling. He ran a hand over his face and shut his eyes tightly.
    That voice. That voice had been haunting his dreams for the last nine months, since . . .
    He looked at his phone beside his bed and yelped when he saw the time. Late for school, again . He leapt out of bed and stumbled around his room as he got ready then grabbed his bag and flew down the stairs toward the front door, not bothering to stop for breakfast. How was it that he lived only five minutes from the high school but was constantly late, even when he put his alarm on?
    “Jag, you gotta quit waking up late,” his brother called from the living room where Jag could hear him playing on the Xbox.
    “Easy for you to say, you’re done with school,” Jag growled. “When you decide to apply for college, Tristan, then you can talk.”
    “Touché,” Tristan chuckled. “Have a good day, bro.”
    “Have fun rotting your brains out playing Halo.”
    “I will. And don’t act like you wouldn’t enjoy it, either.”
    “Pfft!”
    Jag was still jamming his feet into his shoes as he headed out the door. He hurried along the sidewalk that turned up into the school grounds. As he rounded the turn, he stopped short. A group of four guys his age were laughing and sneering at someone on the ground. To one side, a wheelchair had been overturned and the contents of a backpack were strewn over the grass.
    When Jag took a closer look at the boy on the ground, his heart sank for a moment before fury overtook him and he made his way over. “What do you think you’re doing?” he snapped.
    One of the boys, a stocky fellow with a gray ball cap, looked up in surprise. When he saw who the newcomer was, he smirked. “Hey, look who it is. One of the five Amnesiacs.”
    Jag said nothing. He straightened the wheelchair as the undaunted black teenager who’d fallen off it sat up on the ground and glared defiantly up at his intimidators. He got a pat on the head from one of the guys.
    Jag saw it and fought the powerful urge to throttle the boy. “Roderick isn’t a dog. Show some respect.”
    The one who’d patted Roderick on the head laughed. “Roddy’s a tough guy, he can take a little shoving. You, on the other hand . . . heh . . . ”
    “Don’t test me.”
    “Jag, don’t bother,” Roderick said quietly.
    “What’s up with you anyway, Jag? You don’t get into fights as much anymore.” The boy with the ball cap lowered his voice and whispered mockingly, “Was it the aliens? Did they take away your urge to fight? The same way they took away your memories of last summer?”
    “Shut up.”
    Roderick raised his voice. “It’s already been a freakin’ year, guys. Find some new material.”
    The boy ignored him. “Did they probe you, too, Jag?” His friends guffawed.
    Jag’s amber eyes were twin flames of anger as he stepped forward. “You’re garbage. You and the other rats around here have done nothing but harass my friends and me since we came back. If I hear another rotten word coming out of your filthy mouth, I’ll gladly make you eat your teeth.”
    The boy in the ball cap stared at Jag for a few moments, then broke