The Twelve Stones (15 page)

“
Get me outta these cuffs
,
man. Please?”

“
Me?” Geoffrey chuckled
.
“
O
h
,
good Lord, why would I do something like that?”

Cowboy Hat
saw his chances of survival slipping away.

“
You see, you’re gonna be a good ol’ fashion
ed
cover story. Maybe you were pushed around by Deputy DoGooder here. Maybe you knew exactly when he’d be the most vulnerable. Maybe you got a bunch of friends together for an assault on the guy. Maybe…”Geoffrey paused, smiling as he held a pistol onto him, “Maybe you were trying to set up this bomb when the good deputy over there got one more shot off on you, and you tripped and fell, holding the last grenade. Or maybe none of it happened, none of this makes sense
,
and I just don’t care to have any witnesses to tell people about tonight.”

Cowboy Hat began to sob, pleading desperately for his life. Geoffrey ignored him and set the live grenade down on top of the pile of diesel fuel.

The bald man ran like hell for
the other side of the road
,
where a deep gully offered some protection against the explosion.

Just as he dived into the ditch, the grenade detonated, exploding the fuel Geoffrey had packed inside. The beleaguered
S
heriff’s
station exploded in a glorious display of fire and flame, as most of the building was torn off its foundation.

Geoffrey raised his head cautiously over the side of the road to watch the station burn to the ground.
Always good to check your work…
Geoffrey reminded himself.

The explosion had ripped through the roof, tearing the whole building off the foundation. The helicopter and Suburban nearest to the front entrance of the lobby were now buried underneath a flaming pile of rubble.

Satisfied that the hellfire created a confusing enough scene for any future investigators, Geoffrey retreated towards the last Suburban untouched by the conflict. Jumping into the truck, Geoffrey grabbed the CB radio attached to the dashboard. Clicking the microphone, he called back to the base back at the
m
esa
,
wasting no time with pleasantries.

“
It’s Tate
.
I need an update
.
T
ell
me you found something out there!”

“
Mr. Tate,” the voice on the other side of the radio said, “three of our men found an abandoned
J
eep, on the far side of the
m
esa. Only vehicle within three miles of the camp, we were told…”

“
I know what you were told,” Geoffrey snapped, “When did you find it?”

“
About fifteen minutes ago
.
I
t shouldn’t be too far from where you’re at. Two miles towards the dome and left on
R
oad JT813. About a quarter mile down that road
,
and you can’t miss it.”

Geoffrey fired up the engine of the powerful truck
.
H
is tires squealed as he slammed the accelerator to the floor. A lead,
hopefully enough to put him
back on the man’s tail.

The way
that
man had handled himself back at the station bothered Geoffrey. Fluid and quick, that’s how the man from the desert had handled all his locals. The kid had training, good training. But to take down a chopper and five people at once?

The kid's training wasn’t even the biggest problem. The other problem
nagging
at his brain was
the
one that made him certain he was crazy. He knew he had shot the kid several times, and yet he had kept coming
like nothing Tate threw at him mattered
.

No, there was something more to this. The kid was fast, talented with guns, and
—
unless Geoffrey Tate was
mistaken
—
invulnerable to bullets. He urged his truck to go faster down the highway. The quicker he found that Jeep, the closer he was to finding the kid and putting him six feet under
,
where he belonged.

Chapter Twelve

When Alex and Scott were sixteen years old
,
and had finally earned their driver’s licenses, one of the two boys (Alex couldn’t remember which one had come up with it) came up with a game for them to play. They would both drive around the dark
,
unpaved streets in Onyx Lake in the middle of the night
,
playing a more “spirited” version of Freeze Tag. The idea was to drive around at extreme speeds in the middle of the night, on bumpy, unpaved roads
,
with the headlamps on your car extinguished. If you caught a glimpse of your opponent, and managed to flash your headlights, without being spotted first, you tagged your opponent. The teenager that had the most hits by the end of the night was on the hook to fill his friend’s gas tank. Alex sometimes wondered how they managed to avoid killing anyone
–
or each other
,
for that matter.

It was those skills
,
developed in his later teen years
,
that Alex called upon now. He flew along the dark highway at a hundred and ten miles an hour, his headlights extinguished. He was desperate to get away from Joshua Tree and his father’s killers.

Using every bit of counter-surveillance he knew, he doubled back unexpectedly, exiting the freeway and getting back on to see who might follow. It was only after doing this several times and making it to the 10 Freeway that he decided to slow down and lower his profile. Flipping on his lights, Alex took refuge in the light traffic heading west towards Los Angeles.

He wasn’t sure who he could trust now after being involved in the police station shootout. His system was still wired up from the gunfight
,
and he needed to stop and slow down before he could concentrate properly.

Pausing at a gas station in Vallejo, California, just south of the Cajon pass, he filled the Suburban’s tank and slowly came to realize that he had limited options. It was likely that by now, they would have found his father’s
J
eep abandoned in the desert. While there was nothing that could tie Alex directly to him, the
J
eep contained all sorts of information on his father. That could lead them to Alex.

He wouldn’t need to use any plastic
,
fortunately. His backpack contained plenty of short
-
term cash, probably more than Alex would even need. Any man who had the resources to create the tent city Alex had seen earlier that night would certainly be able to grease enough palms in order to trace his accounts, so the cash was one advantage he was more than happy to have.

He could disappear. Take the stone and go back into the wild. It had been his plan from the beginning. Stopping in Onyx
had
only
been
so his father could know that his son was alive.

But the thought of walking away from his father’s killers formed a deep hot pit of shame in his gut. That was not an option. His father's killers would be brought to justice. Alex could disappear afterward.

In the meantime, he needed someone he could trust, and there weren’t many of those people alive, or close enough to assist. He opened his backpack grabbing some cash to go inside and pay the surly attendant. Buying some snacks, a disposable
I
nternet
-
capable PDA phone, and a giant cup of coffee, he walked back outside
.
A
decision, and something looking like a plan
, started
forming in his mind.

He didn’t want to involve
him
, but at this point, Alex didn’t know who else he could turn to. The only person left alive he could tell this crazy story
to
,
and have him believe it, was the man who had been there twenty years ago to witness the powers of the stone firsthand.

Typing in some commands on the PDA, Alex found Scott’s social networking page and began to do some quick detective work. Working at JPL,
and living at
an apartment in Pasadena, probably not too far away from work – Scott had always been lazy like that.

A picture of him showing off his brand
-
new Mustang Hybrid. Proudly, leaning on the hood on the street outside his apartment, the caption below the photo informed him.

Alex smiled –
a Mustang had always been Scott’s dream car
—
then
brought up the map application and began comparing streets. The program, comparing the photo to the ones in its massive database, filtered down the results.

“
I friggin
’
love the future…” Alex whispered to himself.

Taking Scott’s phone number off his social networking page, he got back into his car and followed the directions the PDA called out to him. Despite the danger around him, Alex was incredibl
y
excited to see his friend. His father talked about inviting Scott in on the trip to Joshua Tree, but at the time, Alex had felt it was too risky. The fewer people
who
knew Alex was alive at the moment, the better. Of course, that had been twenty-four hours ago, when a multibillionaire with unlimited resources wasn’t trying to kill him.

Arriving at Scott’s
Pasadena
apartment, Alex watched the place for a good thirty minutes to ensure that no one else had beaten him there. The clock on the dashboard said it was two-thirty in the morning
,
and if history was any judge, Alex had a better
-
than
-
even shot of catching Scott still awake. He dialed, listening for the ringing and someone to pick up.

“
Hello?” A sleepy voice answered.

“
Scott,” Alex said in a low voice, “Are you alone?
”

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

“
I’m sorry?”
t
he voice asked.

“
Scott, it’s Alex
.
I need to know if you’re alone.”

“
Alex?” Scott asked, his voice suddenly alert. “You’re kidding
,
right?”

“
Not a dream pal, I’m telling you…”

“
Whoever this is, you’re not especially funny,” Scott said angrily. “Alex died six years ago…”

“
And I came back from the dead
,
”
Alex retorted. “I need help.”

“
Oh, you need help
,
do you? Mysterious two
-A.M.
phone call from a friend dead for six years. Sure, how much do you need? Just let me whip my check book riiiight out.”

The phone clicked and a dialtone buzzed. Alex looked sheepishly at it. In all the commotion, he had forgotten that Scott was still completely clueless to his resurrection.

Undeterred, Alex dialed his friend’s number again. It rang so many times that Alex wasn’t sure if Scott would pick up. But finally, he heard the click of the phone being picked up.

“
Listen pal, you’ve got a lot of…”

“
No
,
you listen! I don’t have time to tell you your favorite color is blue, your favorite beer is Fat Tire, the answer is blondes, brunettes AND redheads, yes, of course the 1987 A’s are the greatest baseball team in history
,
and no, I’m not ever going to admit you beat
Battletoads
. That friggin
’
game was rigged. I’m in trouble
,
Scotty, and I need my friend. It’s Alex…I’m downstairs. Come down and see if you don’t believe me.”

Alex hadn’t meant to get emotional, but he wanted to see his friend, and he needed to shock him into reality.

There was a very long pause. Trembling, the voice on the other end spoke:

“
Alex?”

“
Yeah…” Alex trailed off, not entirely sure what to say. Moving so quickly, he hadn’t enough time to prepare what he wanted to say. He thought everything would come naturally, and clearly, he was incredibly wrong. He decided to go with the truth. That should be easy enough.

“
Scotty, I know there are a ton of questions bouncing around your head right now
,
and I get it, I really do, but I need to know
:
are you alone?”