Distant Cousins
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The Dark Warrior's Realm
Peter was worried. Henry had not stirred since Bon Bon Hai threw him back with the power of his qi. With the injuries that Henry sustained, Peter knew his cousin needed the care of a doctor. Henry could have suffered a severe concussion or even a broken neck. At the least, Peter could tell that his cousin's nose had been broken in the fall. Then Peter did something that he had not done in a long time. He prayed to Buddha and the Tao.
"Source of all things, please don't let this man die. He's my cousin and we're just getting to know each other. Please, give us more time."
Then Peter's thoughts turned toward another. If only he was able to contact his father. Peter had never felt so much alone, not since the day he thought Tan had killed his father. The silence of this place was oppressive, and yet Peter did his best to try not to talk to himself, just to fill up the silence. He was scared, especially for his cousin. Henry needed medical attention. There was no way an ambulance could be called.
That thought almost forced a nervous laugh from Peter's mouth. What would he have said to the dispatch at 911? What address would he be able to give them? It was too far fetched to even think about. And if he even tried it, they would be sending an ambulance for him to the local psychiatric ward. No one knew of Shambhala, let alone the Dark Warrior. They were stuff found only in dreams or in nightmares by ordinary people. That was something that was dreamed up by the movies. Even Kermit at one time didn't believe that such places existed. Kermit though chose to take Peter at his word, maybe because he knew Peter would never lie about such a place.
'Kermit, I could use you right now. With that gun of yours you'd find a place to blast threw back to the real world.'
But Peter knew that his guardian of the streets would not be able to come this time.
"Come on, Henry open your eyes," Peter tried to once again coax his cousin, but there was no response. Peter kept a hand on his cousin's left wrist to feel the pulse point. As long as his cousin's pulse remained strong, it gave him comfort.
Peter took out a cloth from his father's pouch and wiped the blood from his cousin's face. There was just no way that he would be able to keep the blood from flowing. He did not have his father's healing gift, at least it wasn't as developed. Even so, as long as the blood flowed, it showed that Henry was still alive.
As Peter sat with his cousin, he noticed something else was happening. The once glaring whiteness appeared to be turning gray. A feeling of foreboding and being trapped came over Peter. It was more frightening that he had ever felt. He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face into them. Not since he had been a child and believed that there were dragons under his bed had he felt such fear. He knew if his father did not come then and there, he and Henry would be trapped in the Dark Warrior's realm forever. His worst nightmares would come true.
*Oh, Pop where are you?* Peter sent his thoughts, not really expecting an answer.
*I am here my son.*
"Pop!"
Tears formed in his eyes as Peter looked up to see his father standing before him. Relief and joy flooded through him. It was all he could do to contain himself. The words just poured through like water bursting threw a broken damn.
"Am I ever glad to see you. I was beginning to think I would never see you again. I was so worried when I couldn't sense you were in danger. Why is it that I can sense you now?"
"Bon Bon Hai had some how blocked your awareness of me. It was his way of separating us so he could then go after each of us in turn."
"But when Henry came along, he didn’t expect to be dealing with a third person."
"No," Caine replied.
"Pop, we've got to get Henry out of here. He's hurt bad."
Peter watched his father examine their stricken family member.
"He has a concussion, but not severe. His neck is not broken. He does have a broken nose. We can move him."
Between Peter and Caine, they were able to lift the stricken cop and all three returned to Shambhala.
Continues with Part 32
Alisa Joaquin Copyright@2003.
This story cannot be reprinted or sold in any other form without strict permission from
the author. It is being distributed here solely for your enjoyment.
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