The Twelve Stones (13 page)

Now, as he ducked oncoming fire from a group of people he’d never met before
–
and
,
until they killed his father, never had a beef with
—
Alex thought about how wonderful it would be to have some mundane details in his life right about now.

Instead, Alex found himself struggling up a steep and rusty ladder to get onto a roof in the hopes he could get a bead on some of the men currently trying to kill him. The two pistols Alex had crammed into his pockets threatened to fall out to the floor below. Stopping for a moment, he clung tightly to the ladder with one arm as he used the other to readjust his pistols.

Alex’s head popped out into the night air as he took a quick look around. The distant thumping of helicopter blades – that was how they had reached him so quickly
,
Alex thought to himself
—
beat steadily in the night sky. He craned his neck
,
looking for the mechanical bird. That might be a problem.

Futur
e Alex’s problem,
h
is brain insisted. Alex jumped up on the roof, crouching
as he ran, holding the two high-
powered rifles he had confiscated from the weapons locker below. The helicopter noise began to drone louder as Alex approached the edge of the station roof. There, approaching quickly, the helicopter stopped,
rear
ed
up
,
and hovered over the Sheriff station parking lot. Two more black Suburbans added to the one Alex had stolen from the men in the desert. Three men hid behind the trucks, firing into the station with their automatic rifles.

Keeping his profile low
,
Alex watched the helicopter circle around the station. He ducked suddenly against the wall as he hid from the searchlight that threatened to expose his position.

Reaching the front edge of the station, Alex closed his eyes for a moment
.
T
he image of his father falling off the cliff flashed to the front of his memory. Gritting his teeth, Alex got up from behind the wall, put the scope of the rifle to his eye,
and looked
for the nearest target firing into the broken windows of the small Joshua Tree
S
heriff
S
tation
.

With the patience and careful aim drilled into him by the Army, Alex breathed in deeply, exhaled halfway
, and
held
the rest as he squeezed the trigger.
His target’s
head disappeared from the scope
.

Alex
check
ed
the spot where the shooter had been only moments before. All that remained was a pink smear on the ground. He didn’t feel sorry for the man below
;
he was an enemy and out to kill him. His training was probably going to be the only thing that might keep him alive in this insane series of events that had apparently
just
become his life.

Alex ratcheted the bolt on the hunting rifle and closed the action, loading it once again. Taking aim through the scope, he fired, taking down another one of the mercenaries firing at the Sheriff
S
tation.

Unfortunately, it was then that Alex’s luck ran out. Seeing two of his companions fall, the man on the ground spotted Alex’s position on the rooftop and began frantically screaming into his radio. The pilot of the helicopter moved the spotlight mounted on the front of his aircraft towards the roof as he wrenched his controls over in order to give the shooter on his bird a shot at Alex.

Alex racked the slide on the rifle once again, leaning back to give himself room. As he did, a bullet ricocheted off the concrete wall he had been leaning against only moments before. Startled, Alex instinctively rolled back,
using his momentum to flip himself back up onto his feet and run to the other side of the roof, barely avoiding several more shots that had been headed for his abdomen only moments before.

A
s Alex ducked more fire from the flying sniper
,
t
he helicopter rushed overhead
,
flying into the desert in order to turn around and take another run at him. Alex glanced down and noticed he was bleeding. The now
-
familiar blue glow had already reacted to his new injury and began healing it with no pain whatsoever. He hadn’t even felt the bullet go in
,
and that small reward made Alex smile. His powers were apparently getting stronger.

The
aging hunting
rifle jumped in his hands as
it deflected
three more rounds aimed for his body. Alex dropped the twisted pile of metal and took out the two nine
-
millimeter pistols he had pushed into his waistband. Looking at the heavily armored helicopter charging towards him, he
glanced
at his pistols and swore.
I’d be better off with a couple of rocks and a slingshot
, he thought to himself as the man in the helicopter began firing at Alex once again. He dived behind a large air conditioning unit, hoping for a respite from the firefight.

Glancing around, Alex noticed a large and outdated television satellite dish sitting on the south side of the roof. He looked around for the helicopter. After its last pass, the pilot had swung around east to let the sniper get a better bead on Alex. Not wanting to give him the chance, Alex ran to the other side of the roof
,
where the satellite dish precariously stood.

Alex crouched next to the parabolic receivers. Whoever the company had been, the workmen that had installed it had done an exceptionally poor job.
All that held it to the side of the building were several rolls’ worth of duct tape
. Alex doubted it could last through the next decent windstorm that came through the valley.

The steady beat of the helicopter’s blades against the chilly night air began to increase as it began to bear down on Alex and the Sheriff
S
tation.

Using his body as leverage,
Alex
leaned against the retaining edge of the sheriff station and began to kick the satellite receiver off
the remains of
its rusting metal bolts. Screeching in protest, the dish fell onto the roof. Alex picked up the heavy dish and began to swing it around his body like a world class Olympian about to throw the hammer. The pilot, seeing what he was doing, flared the helicopter to slow the approach to Alex and his improvised weapon. Fortunately, that gave Alex the perfect opportunity he needed, as it exposed the rear rotor blades.

Alex
,
rotating around
,
spun his body faster and timed the release perfectly, throwing the impromptu hammer into the smaller rotor tail blades of the helicopter. The screech of metal on metal
,
and the shower of sparks and smoke
,
were his reward. Drawing out his two pistols, he fired at the helicopter pilot and sniper in the cabin of the aircraft. The sniper
,
caught by Alex’s first two shots, jerked back into the cab of the helicopter
,
his finger still on the trigger of his automatic weapon. As he landed in the cab, his finger depressed the trigger, shooting up the interior of the cockpit.

The pilot valiantly tried to auto-rotate the helicopter safely to the ground, but with the smoke pouring out of the cabin and the smashed control panel, it was futile. Alex stood up and watched as the pilot lost his battle with gravity and the helicopter crashed into one of the Suburbans the men had brought with them. The helicopter’s fuel caught
,
exploding violently as two men (who had the bad luck of standing too close) were sent flying through the air.
All in all, t
he explosion
felt rather
satisfying
,
and Alex took a moment to smile as he watched the helicopter burn.

Suddenly, there was a scream and several more shots downstairs. Deputy Rogers was still down there trying to provide covering fire for Alex.

Alex turned and ran towards the hatch down to the station
,
reloading his two pistols
and cocking both hammers back
as he did so.
Closing
his eyes and
concentrat
ing,
he muttered to himself, “Nothing’s gonna hurt you, nothing can hurt you…”

H
e
dived into the hole
,
rolling his body on the
floor
to absorb the shock. Using the energy from
the dive
, Alex rolled up from his back, searching for a target for his pistols. No one was left inside. The place was eerily empty and quiet, flickering shadows lit by the fire raging outside, played against the white walls of the police station inside. Alex flattened his back against the wall, and listened.

Shouts came from the back room where the faint flicker of a TV flashed lightly. Alex cocked his ears, approaching the room silently, his gun at the ready for any target.

Peeking around the corner, Alex saw two
of them
. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the large bald man who had been with the man who had killed his father.

The
bald
man was engrossed in sifting through some paperwork on the desk. The other
man,
leaner
and
smaller
,
was completely dressed in flannel
and
wearing a cowboy hat.

Cowboy Hat stood in front of the TV, smacking
it repeatedly
. Geoffrey looked up at him, annoyed.

“
Quit messing with that and help me look for something on the man.” The bald man growled towards the redneck. “The guy just took out one of our helicopters and you want to watch TV?”

“
I almost got it back,” Cowboy Hat said
,
smacking the TV set
again
. “Besides,” he added obnoxiously, “I don’t see how that kid could survive all the lead we put into this place anyway.” He hit the TV on the side again hard, a dull thud echoed through the room.

Geoffrey Tate’s face flushed as his anger began to boil to the top. His temper had not always been a slow fuse, but in his business, clear, critical thinking was an asset
,
and a short temper could get you killed. While it might take quite a bit to set him off, once you did, there was no turning back
.
Cowboy Hat was testing the outer limits of his patience.

He drew his pistol, and without looking
,
fired shots into the TV. The glass shattered
.
The
man yelped and leaped away from the exploding television set.

“
Find something on this young man
,
or the next two bullets go into you.” Geoffrey Tate said dangerously without looking up.

“
Jesus
,
man,
” Cowboy Hat
said,
terrified. “Whatever
!
I get it
.
S
orry
.” He’d been shot at before, but it was clear that this wasn’t
the
time to screw around. He turned towards the desk and halfheartedly began to shuffle through the papers. Geoffrey turned back to the paperwork on his desk in front of him and cursed in frustration. On one hand, it was possible this was a good thing. Perhaps the deputy hadn’t had enough time to take any sort of report from the man in the desert before Geoffrey and his men had caught up to him. On the other, he had only found one body in the station, and it wasn’t the kid Geoffrey had seen earlier, which was bad ne
ws. He looked around.
T
here was nothing left
to find
.

He was about to turn to the man
in the ridiculous cowboy hat and
tell him to pack up to leave,
when he noticed out of the corner of his eye the reflected shards of the TV screen. In them
,
a shadow moved. Geoffrey stayed absolutely still. Their quarry was hunting them.

Alex cursed
.
H
is
knee had fallen asleep
,
causing
him to trip slightly. Hoping he wasn’t seen, he stayed out of sight and quiet, listening for any movement from the other room.

Geoffrey Tate used the balls of his feet to slide noiselessly across the room. Drawing his weapon, he cocked it slowly. Quietly moving up to the edge of the hallway, he listened for any sound or indication of life.

Cowboy Hat turned from the desk
,
waving a piece of paper
.
“Hey
,
man, I think this might be something…”
he started,
but trailed off as he watched his bosses’ actions.