Fifteen years after a violent explosion eradicated his secret society, a single survivor, Temjin Moon, carries on in pursuit of the truth behind his knighthood. Living as a shadow among the crumbling ruins of degenerating humanity he nearly loses all faith in his mysterious past until strange events unfold about the city, all of which bare the indistinguishable relevance to his life's forgotten mission . . . Fifteen years after the murder of her parents, a young detective named Mei Ling struggles to piece together evidence from the past through vivid daydreams about a mysterious society she has never encountered called, The Moon Knights. Shrouded with deception, she uncovers a massive plot leading toward human annihilation but when a chance encounter with a hooded man appears in the ruins of the explosion, fifteen years to the day, her ominous destiny unfolds to reveal a startling truth.

The Moon's Last Knight

By Christopher Valiton

Abbott Press

Copyright © 2012 Christopher John Valiton
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4582-0664-0

Chapter One

Her eyes snapped open as the rush of adrenaline made her heart pound from the painful dream. The bed sheets were damp, and her body was shaking. Just another dream, she thought, like so many others before. Only this time it was more real. She could almost feel the tingling of heat across her skin.

She reached for the last tissue and dabbed the moisture from her brow. Her heart was throbbing so hard, it shook the beads of sweat from her forehead. What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I always dream of things I have never experienced?

At the age of twenty-three, Mei Ling was a gorgeous young woman with dark, silken hair and an athletic physique. She worked as a city detective and lived alone, unless the occasional balcony pigeon visited for handouts.

She looked around at her dark, second-story apartment. It was a good thing she lived alone, too; any normal boyfriend probably wouldn't tolerate waking up in a pool of his woman's perspiration, as well as a cluttered efficiency that looked more like a teenager's fantasy library.

Mei sighed, feeling her heartbeat calm as her mind phased back into reality. She tossed back the comforter and slipped from the living room futon, tiptoeing across the cold floor to glance out at the early-morning sky. There was a blanket of low fog covering the empty streets, making the nighttime curfew ever more eerie as the sound of silence prowled freely among the congested apartments. She looked up at the moon that always seemed to hang directly over the city, its radiant glow fighting to shine through the thick haze. The city had changed drastically in the past fifteen years, the rising towers of bustling commercial enterprises now glowing like a cluster of stars amid a void. "Where does the time go?" she mumbled, making her way into the bathroom.

It was the year 2112, and the world had been ransacked by the warring countries that sought ultimate power over the globe after 2012. The end of days, as it had been predicted, were only the beginning of the chaos that cast the once profitable future into isolated populations now scattered across barren continents. Governments had been crippled, which gave rise to tyrants and next-generation leaders who only served short terms before they were overthrown themselves. Thankfully, over the past thirty years, things had settled and remained stable, mostly because there just wasn't anything left worth laying claim to.

Nightmares were nothing new for Mei; she'd been having them since childhood. But recently they had become much more terrifying and frequent. She leaned over to fill her hands with cool water, splashing away the sticky sweat that held matted hair against her cheeks. Being part of a civil service meant she was privy to the gruesome sights of murder and death on a regular basis, but the bad dreams had nothing to do with her job highlights; she was certain of that.

Mei's dreams revolved around a group of mysterious people and a violent explosion, which she knew little about. She would even have daydreams at the most unlikely times, giving her intense cases of déjà vu that spurred images or words into her already confused train of thought.

She reached for a washcloth and dried her face, looking into the mirror at her reflection shaded in midnight tints. "What the hell is a Moon Knight?"

The words were among the few she could understand from the riddling nonsense that came along with some of the visions; one of the most common appeared to be a young man she had yet to identify. Although she had never met anyone like him, somehow she felt connected in an assortment of tragic ways.

In her dreams he was always a blur, crying and unidentifiable, yet consistently present. "Why does he cry?" Her reflection didn't respond. Thinking about him made her own heart share his sadness. None of it made any sense, and she wondered if it was just repressed feelings from her childhood.

She debated whether it was worth going out after curfew or not. "Just go, damn you," she told her reflection. There was no hope of returning to the dream world tonight. Mei knew her curiosity was relentless, and tonight was no different. Her heart had already decided the moment she awoke. "But you're not going to find anything new." She sighed and went to the dresser to change.

Mei slipped into a pair of sweats then tucked her badge and gun underneath. Even though she was an officer of the law, she was risking her job by traveling after curfew. Thankfully she had borrowed the government police cruiser from her partner, making cross-town travel less conspicuous. The curfew mandated no public activity after hours and turned the entire city into a ghost town.

She kept the cruiser at a mild speed and avoided the main roads, stirring the fog veils that crept across intersections as she made her way toward the city's outskirts. After one quick look behind, she made the illegal turn into the restricted zones and ignored the red light blinking over an unused junction. The paved roads immediately turned into patches of grainy dirt and broken rubble, scars from years of gang violence and civil disputes. A majority of the population lived safely within the crowded apartments that surrounded the inner commercial districts, but out here, miles from the nearest working phone booth, the abandons were a haven for those few who preferred to live anonymously.

Mei shivered as the road conditions deteriorated and the fog became dense. Her visibility was barely more than twenty feet, but she already knew the way. She had driven this path many times before.

Ever since she had become aware of her visions, Mei had been investigating any and all possibilities to solve her problem. Unfortunately, all had turned up as fruitless endeavors. She was on a journey down a road that had no signs, no directions, and never any answers. Mei pulled the car over and dimmed the headlights. Her mind began flipping through the same questions she had every time she came out here, hoping something would trigger a clue as to why she kept returning to the same spot. She stepped out of the car but kept the engine purring.

She was standing along the curb of an old building complex where reports of an incredible explosion had taken place fifteen years ago. There was hardly anything left standing, since the original blast had incinerated most of the structure. After years of erosion and weathering, only a few rusty supports poked out from a gaping crater.

The fog seemed to get thicker as Mei weaved around the heaps of rubble, taking extra care not to lose her bearings. There was no urban noise this far away from the city, only the quiet stir of her footsteps and the beat of her heart.

She stopped in the center of the mess and looked around at the inner crater. She remembered the hours she'd spent researching files about the accident as it had been reported. There were no witnesses, no culprits, no leads, and only a single survivor was reported; unfortunately, he had died soon after.

She closed her eyes and felt her head spin as she tried to visualize the original scene. She knew there was a meaning to it all, but what, she would never know without some kind of clue. "What am I supposed to do?" Mei sighed heavily and rubbed her temples with the tingling inside her head. She winced as the feeling transitioned into a throb and the pulse beat like a drum. She felt the same way when leaving a crime scene. "Damn it, another migraine. Not now, I don't need ..." She froze when she opened her eyes to see a looming shadow standing directly across the crater.

The fog dissipated momentarily, revealing the silhouette of a cloaked individual, his eyes locked with hers. Mei's instinct screamed to draw weapon, but something kept her poised in the surrounding haze.

From the opposite side, the mysterious man stared back with a pair of glowing blue eyes, his surprise clear in his stance as well. He wore what looked to be a hooded cape, and he carried a deadly sword strapped over his shoulder.

Although Mei had no idea who he was, she knew this individual did not come here tonight by mere coincidence. "Hey," she began, but before she could speak another word, the man stepped back and vanished into the heavy shadows.

"Wait!" she shouted, still frozen in place, but it was too late. The man was gone, and suddenly so was her headache. She wasn't sure whether to curse herself for not calling in backup or to compliment her curiosity for coming out in the first place, but the sudden release of pressure in her head spoke for itself. "That's never happened before."

It was fifteen years to the day since the fire had taken place, the fire she believed was in her dreams. Whomever she had just seen must have known or felt something similar. Whatever the case, Mei had finally found the clue she'd been waiting for, and being a detective, that was all she needed to proceed.

Chapter Two

THE elevator doors opened to the two hundredth floor of Kemric Tower, and a tall man in a black trench coat stepped out. The lobby leading into the chairman's penthouse was elaborately decorated with modern artwork and small artifacts from across the ages, and the polished floors emitted the scent of rich pine.

Across from the receptionist's desk, two enormous windows looked out over a panoramic view of a thick, early-morning fog. Couldn't this guy get a little closer to heaven? the man thought with a smirk of sarcasm.

With short, black hair and a square jaw, Wufei Blackwolf made the ultimate fighting champion look like a high school wrestler. He wore a black Tshirt that hugged a chest so broad it was barely able to conceal the twin .45-caliber pistols edging out from under his leather coat. He had been weathered by street life and as a result was emotionally coarse. The scar across his right cheek gave him the distinct mark of an elder leader. It was also a harsh reminder of a past decision he would rather forget.

Wufei was a high ranking member of the notorious Wolf Pack, a huge organization composed of more than two thousand young adults who ruled the city's underworld. The Pack offered a stable means of command for those who rebelled against the outside and gave members a place to avoid the dwindling morals of corrupt society; or at least that's how Wufei saw it.

After mildly gazing over the artistic displays and the thorns of neighboring TV antennas poking through the sea of cotton outside, Wufei approached the curly-haired blonde seated at the reception desk. She looked up from her desk and popped out her musical earpieces, purposely adjusting her posture to expose enticing curves.

"Good morning, sir. Do you have an appointment with Lord Kemric today?"

"Yes, I do," Wufei replied with his strongest business tone. He was still unsure what the leading head of the corporate world wanted with a member of the rebel underworld. It was guys like this Lord Kemric that the Wolf Pack hated so much. The embezzlement of incoming revenues for the cities had lessened the powers of government and aided corruption within the ranks of leading officials, giving rise to a world doomed by corporate fate and run by the flow of money, not values. The Wolf Pack was a society created by a solitary individual who wanted to begin his own world free from the constricting binds of warped government and mafia oppression. His name was Dekim.

Although his master had specifically turned down the meeting this morning, Wufei's curiosity was piqued by the request to meet face-to-face with a corporate mogul. He decided it would provide an excellent opportunity to collect valuable information for future takedowns, or perhaps just plain valuables.

"Let me check the schedule." The receptionist flipped through the pages on her notepad. "Yes, Mr. ... Dekim." She looked up for his approval, her eyes scanning more than just his facial ruggedness. Wufei nodded. "Lord Kemric has been expecting you. Please go right in." She motioned to the double doors, which opened remotely.

"Thanks," Wufei replied and walked in.

Although the Wolf Pack provided a safe haven for those who sought refuge from the suffocating confines of corrupt society, they were primarily a band of mercenaries waiting to be hired. In the past they had performed multiple acts of robbery, small-town hustling, corporate destruction, and even assassinations. The work may have been dirty for a society claiming to be independent from the current, corrupt world, but the bills weren't going to pay themselves.

As he entered Kemric's personal office, Wufei was baffled by the irregular setup. On the other side of the giant doors lay the CEO's suite and the owner's personal office. The transition from the modern reception area to the dark, stone-walled penthouse was like stepping into a king's fifteenth-century castle chambers decorated by a museum curator. The floor was carpeted with beautiful crimson velvet and decorated with Persian rugs, segmenting islands of collectible displays from one wall to the other. There were weapons, jewelry, stone statues, and famous art of all kinds, and paintings and books lined every inch of outer wall space, along with a few recently extinct animals. This man seemed to have everything a rich collector could ask for ... including a fireplace! The tremendous fire-pit to Wufei's left was built from solid stone and big enough to walk into, and perhaps set a tree trunk ablaze. Holding up its giant mantel were two bronze statues of muscular gods from an unidentifiable era. From the smoldering ashes lying in its iron bed, the fireplace looked to be used quite often.

"What is it about rich people and big antiques?" Wufei mumbled.

Moving toward the far side of the room, he saw a modern desk that seemed big enough to seat a king's court. The bright morning light poured in through the giant windows, creating a black silhouette of a high-backed chair and the man sitting behind it.

"Good morning, Master Dekim. I've been expecting you," a smooth, masculine voice echoed from across the large room. "Please make yourself comfortable. Help yourself to a drink and a smoke."

Perched neatly on the small table in the middle of the room was a box of expensive cigars and a crystal flask of Cognac. "Thank you," Wufei took a seat but ignored the pleasantries. The envelope and photographs on the table before him were his only concern. It was odd, he noticed, to be sitting so far away. He could barely make out the man behind the desk.

"My name is Lord Kemric, and I am very pleased you agreed to hear my request today," the voice spoke from behind the tall chair without turning around. "I understand the clash of ideals between our worlds, and I'd love to discuss future treaties that would prove beneficial to our operations. But like myself, I'm sure that a man of your stature has little time for such frivolities at the moment, so I'll get right to the point. In front of you is my request."

Wufei looked at the pictures on the table.

"While erecting my new lunar amusement station, the excavation team found something rather more peculiar than your average moon rock at the dig site. The artifact they found is composed of an element not previously known to our world, which has already made its value priceless. Thus the silence surrounding its true origin. It is one of a kind, and as I'm sure you've noticed on the way in, I am a fantastic collector of those sorts."

Wufei picked up the color photograph of a dirty construction worker holding a palm-sized orb.

"You see, Master Dekim, money is no object for me, but it has bought me great happiness at times. Being in possession of the one thing people want most is truly satisfying to me." The man chuckled arrogantly. "However, I'm afraid that money cannot buy my happiness this time, so unfortunately, I must take it."

Wufei was amazed that such a unique discovery was being kept veiled from the public's eye. He glanced up at the chair's shadow, squinting in the morning glare. He was slightly confused as to why this man would be stealing from himself. Lord Kemric was the sole owner of numerous casinos and luxury hotels across the globe. The name, although not the face, was well known. The man was apparently a genius when it came to exploiting new frontiers of entertainment—space being the next great conquest. "You want me to retrieve this moonstone for you, is that correct?"

"Precisely." The voice whispered, as if someone would hear the plan if he spoke aloud.

Wufei knew that a man of Kemric's reputation had a need for secrecy, but why go through the trouble of hiring a mercenary? "If I may ask, Lord Kemric, why didn't you just claim to find it yourself?"

The man paused. "The publicity would bring unfortunate attention to the matter, and I'd like to preserve the stone's true identity." The reply seemed oddly simple.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from The Moon's Last Knightby Christopher Valiton Copyright © 2012 by Christopher John Valiton. Excerpted by permission of Abbott Press. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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