Gathering Storm: An Alastair Stone Urban Fantasy Novel (Alastair Stone Chronicles Book 17)

by R. L. King

  Stone nodded. “Right, then. So it was a good thing I came by when I did.”

  “What are you? How did you do all that stuff?”

  “Long story, and not one I’m going to tell you. I’m asking the questions, and I’m running this little show right now. Don’t worry—I don’t mean you any harm. After you help me, I’ll give you some money and you can be on your way. But I need something from you first.”

  Clyde narrowed his eyes. “What do you need?”

  “I want you to take me to the place where you first noticed you had these abilities. The place where you healed Rocky.”

  “Why? There ain’t nothin’ there.”

  “I have my reasons. That’s my payment for getting you out of there, Clyde. How far is it from here?”

  “Man, I don’t even know where here is!”

  It was a fair point—Stone didn’t know either. He got up again, located a notepad with the motel’s address on it, and dropped it in front of Clyde. “There—does that help?”

  Clyde stared at it. “Shit, that’s ten miles north o’ town, out in the ’burbs.”

  “How far is it to the spot?”

  “I dunno…maybe a couple hour’s drive? But it’s gonna be dark as the Devil’s armpit out there this time o’ night. Can’t we sleep on it and go in the morning?”

  Stone was almost certain if he agreed to this plan, Clyde would try taking off as soon as he thought he had a chance. That, and he didn’t relish the idea of spending a night in the same room with this odorous bumpkin. “No. We’ll go tonight. Don’t worry about the darkness.”

  “It ain’t just the darkness! Didn’t I tell you there’s bears out there?”

  “Don’t worry about those either.”

  “Maybe you’re not from around here, but you’re an idiot if you don’t worry about bears. And anyways, I ain’t leavin’ without my pizza.”

  Stone sighed, wishing he could just ditch the annoying man and go on his own, but he knew his chances of finding what he was looking for in the back end of rural Pennsylvania were basically nonexistent. “Fine. But remember what I said—if you say anything to the delivery man, it won’t go well for you.”

  Somebody knocked fifteen minutes later, interrupting Stone’s impatient pacing. “Yes, who is it?” he called without opening the door.

  “Smitty’s Pizza.”

  Stone shot Clyde a warning glare, then opened the door. A kid in a rumpled red and blue shirt and blue cap stood there holding a large pizza box. After a quick aura check, Stone took the pizza, shoved forty dollars in his hand, and said, “Keep the change.”

  “Hey, thanks, mister! Enjoy your pizza!” The boy scrambled away before Stone could change his mind.

  “Oh, shit, that smells good,” Clyde called. “Bring it here!”

  Stone was about to close the door, magical sight still active, when he spotted something across the street. He paused, hand on the knob, and stared at it.

  It was a human figure, too shadowy to identify as male or female, but its shifting orange aura roiled like crackling flame. It was unmistakably watching the motel.

  “Oh, bloody hell…” Stone murmured.

  “Bring it in, man!” Clyde called, louder. “Whatcha waitin’ for?”

  Stone glanced his way, then back toward the figure through the partially open door.

  It was gone.

  19

  “I still don’t know what you’re so worked up about, man.”

  Clyde sat in the van’s passenger seat, the pizza box balanced precariously in his lap and a Mountain Dew can stuck in the cup holder. “Why’d we have to get the hell outta there so fast?”

  Stone didn’t answer right away, concentrating on both driving and keeping an eye around him for odd auras or police cars.

  “Hey! Talk to me.” Half the pizza was already gone, and Clyde spoke around a mouthful of another slice, wiping his greasy hands on the side of the seat. “What’s goin’ on? You looked like you saw a ghost when you came back in.”

  “I think somebody might be watching us.”

  “Oh, shit.” He dropped a crust back in the box and peered out the window into the darkness. “Oh, shit, the Sixes are after us?”

  “I don’t think it’s the Sixes.”

  “Those other guys, then? The ones who were shootin’ at us?”

  “Be quiet, Clyde. I need to think. I don’t think it was them either.”

  “Why not? What’d you see out there?” He twisted around in his seat and looked out through the back window, but the only thing visible back there were the headlights of other cars.

  Once again, Stone didn’t answer. How could he explain the uneasy feeling he’d gotten when he saw that strange aura? He couldn’t even explain it to himself. What he did know, however, was that whoever it was, they were almost certainly magically talented. The area across from the motel was a vacant lot, with no trees, cars, or other hiding places. There had been no way the man, or woman, or whatever could have disappeared that fast without magical assistance. Stone had only looked away for a couple of seconds.

  Why was someone with magical talent watching him? Were they watching him, or were they after Clyde? And if they weren’t from the Sixes or the Hammers, where were they from?

  He hadn’t wanted to keep driving the same van. There was too much chance someone would recognize it—either the Sixes or the police—but once he spotted that mysterious figure, he knew remaining even long enough for Clyde to finish his pizza was a bad idea. If the figure was a spotter and had locked in a positive identification of either of them, they might even now be calling for reinforcements, or at least reporting back to whoever sent them.

  Clyde had protested loudly when Stone had swept the remaining snack cakes and soda cans into the room’s plastic laundry bag and ordered him to gather the pizza, which he’d only just begun to devour.

  “What the hell, man?” he’d demanded, waving his slice and dripping chunks of sausage onto the stained rug. “I told ya—I ain’t goin’ nowhere until I finish this—”

  “You’re going now.” Using magic, he levitated the box and shoved it into Clyde’s hands. “Don’t argue with me, Clyde. I won’t say it again.”

  Clyde, suitably reminded that the crazy man who’d snatched him from certain death didn’t need a gun to be threatening, gripped the box and trailed Stone out.

  Now, in the van, Stone followed Clyde’s directions to skirt the Pittsburgh area proper and keep to the less-traveled roads through the outlying towns. “It’ll take a little longer,” Clyde had said sullenly, “but less chance anybody’ll fuck with us. You really are gonna let me go, right? You ain’t takin’ me out here in the sticks so you can murder me and hide the body?”

  “Why would I go through all that trouble to rescue you if I planned to kill you? I could have done that back at the house. Now shut up, Clyde, and let me concentrate.”

  They had to stop once for gas, but other than that Stone kept a steady pace, using his disregarding spell to keep anyone from noticing the van. They had a couple of close calls when he spotted state troopers, but either the Sixes hadn’t reported the van stolen or they’d decided they had enough trouble with the Hammers without chasing down their fleeing meal ticket just yet.

  Clyde focused on finishing his pizza as they drove. Stone wasn’t sure how such a skinny man could put away that much food in that short a time, but as long as it kept him quiet he didn’t care. They’d left the Pittsburgh area and driven southwest for nearly an hour before Clyde spoke again.

  “So why you wanna find this place, anyway? You think if you go there you’ll get superpowers too?”

  “No. I already have superpowers, remember?”

  “Yeah, I’m tryin’ not to think about that, okay? You’re fuckin’ creepy, if you want the truth. And anyways, Pete and Louie didn’t get no superpowers. Just me. Dunno why.”

  “Maybe you’re just special.”

  Clyde snorted, missing Stone’s sarcasm completely. “Ain
’t nothin’ special ’bout me, man. And like I said, I wish it ain’t never happened to me. So anyways, why you wanna see it?”

  “I want to study it.”

  “Study it? You some kinda scientist or somethin’?”

  “Yes. I am.”

  “You don’t look like no scientist.” Clyde tossed the empty pizza box in the back seat, scattering crusts all over the floor. He dug out another Slim Jim, stuck it in his mouth, and looked Stone up and down. “You look like you sell insurance or somethin’. Don’t sound like it, though. You from Australia?”

  “No. And I don’t sell insurance. This isn’t what I really look like.”

  Clyde pondered. “No shit? Pretty good disguise, then. What do you look like?”

  “That’s why they call it a disguise, Clyde. Because I don’t want you to know what I look like. It’s safer that way for both of us.”

  “What, you think I’m gonna tell anybody about this? If you ain’t lyin’ and you do let me go, I’m takin’ off, man. Gettin’ the hell outta this area, startin’ up somewhere else. I’m done with all this freaky shit around here.”

  “Wise man.”

  “Yeah, I think—wait, turn here!” He pointed at a sign half-obscured by low-hanging branches.

  Stone wrenched the wheel, flinging dirt and gravel as the van teetered alarmingly for a second before settling back to all four tires. They’d been on a two-lane, rural road before, but this one was barely wide enough for a pair of vehicles to pass each other. The headlights picked out a series of ruts, and scrubby weeds poking up along the middle.

  “Are you sure this is right?” He glanced at Clyde’s aura, but aside from mild nervousness he saw no sign of deception.

  “Yeah. Like I said, Louie’s friend’s got a hunting shack out here. Ain’t nobody usin’ it right now, so he let us have it for our weekend. Usually we go up north o’ here, but we figured we’d try somethin’ new.” He sighed in the darkness. “That was the worst fuckin’ decision we ever made, huh?”

  Stone didn’t argue with that. He focused on driving, keeping the van in the middle of the narrow road. He didn’t expect to see any other vehicles out here, but he maintained a careful watch for any signs of light ahead. Every couple of minutes he switched to magical sight, looking for traces of the yellow energy he’d seen in Devil’s Creek, but didn’t see any.

  The going was slow. Stone fought the temptation to accelerate, but the van wasn’t built for speed, especially on bad roads like this. They crept along at barely twenty miles per hour for nearly thirty minutes before Clyde came up from his bag of snack food and pointed out another sign. “There. Turn there. The cabin’s just up this road.”

  The new road made the one they’d been on look like a superhighway. Mostly dirt with scattered patches of gravel, it was so narrow that the branches on either side scraped along the van’s flanks. Above them, a slender moon provided the only other illumination, filtering through the trees.

  “There it is.” Clyde pointed ahead, where a small, dark structure crouched in the middle of a clearing.

  “Doesn’t look like anyone’s here,” Stone said, scanning it with magical sight. Aside from the faint green auras of the trees and the occasional brighter one of a small animal or bird, no other glows caught his attention.

  “Ain’t nobody here. Louie’s friend don’t let many people use it—he just let us as a favor. What’re you gonna do?”

  Stone opened the door and got out, pausing to stretch his legs. The air smelled fresh and woody out here, but it had a cold bite, too. “Get out. You’re going to show me the place where you healed Rocky.”

  “In the dark? There might be flashlights inside, but it’s all locked up and I ain’t got the key.”

  “Let’s check.” Stone headed to the cabin, motioning for Clyde to stay where he could keep an eye on him, and surreptitiously used magic to open the front door’s lock. “I guess you forgot to lock it.”

  “No way, man, ain’t no way we—”

  Stone ignored him, heading inside. “Find the lights and let’s go.”

  The wooden cabin was tiny and rough-hewn, with a small living room containing heavy, battered wooden furniture taking up most of its space. It had a minuscule kitchenette with a microwave and mini-fridge, a closet-sized bathroom, and a bedroom barely big enough to fit a set of bunk beds.

  Clyde quickly dug two flashlights from a drawer in the kitchenette, switched them on, and handed one to Stone. “Now let’s go,” he whined. “Whatever you wanna do, let’s get it over with. I wanna get the hell away from here.”

  Stone wanted to get the hell away from Clyde, so he didn’t object. He locked the cabin door behind him and followed the man out into the forest.

  “Aw, man,” Clyde said, shining his light around. “I just realized—I ain’t gonna be takin’ no more hunting trips with Louie and Pete. Not ever.” His voice shook.

  “I’m sorry, Clyde.” Stone couldn’t help feeling sympathy for him—sometimes, in his focus on solving magical puzzles, he tended to forget about the human elements involved. This man, annoying as he was, had just lost two close family members in a particularly brutal way.

  “Yeah…me too. This whole thing is prob’ly God’s way o’ punishin’ me for tryin’ to make money from a miracle or somethin’.”

  “I doubt that.” Stone tramped along beside him, periodically scanning the area with magical sight. Mostly, he was looking for signs of that flickering orange aura or any other human presence, but deep down he had to admit Clyde’s tale of roaming bears had spooked him a bit as well. Last time he’d tangled with a bear, it hadn’t ended well for him. And this time he couldn’t count on his companion to spontaneously develop healing abilities again to take care of the aftermath.

  “So what do you think it is, then?” Clyde asked, not sounding convinced.

  “I don’t know. That’s why I want to look at it.”

  “But why do you want to look at it? How did you even find out about it in the first place?”

  Stone pondered how much he wanted to say. “It’s…sort of a hobby of mine, hunting down things like this.”

  Clyde stopped, staring at him with big, round eyes. “You’re sayin’ there’s other things like this?”

  “It’s beginning to look like there are, yes.”

  “Oh, man…” he moaned. “So even if I get my ass outta the area, I might find another one?”

  “Doubtful. The only other one I’ve seen is nowhere near here. I think you’ll be fine.”

  Clyde didn’t look convinced, but he swung the light back around and shined it ahead. “We’re gettin’ close. It was right around here. I recognize that rock there.”

  Stone though that rock looked like every other rock they’d passed so far, but he had to trust that Clyde’s tracking skills were up to the task. He switched back to magical sight and swept his gaze around again.

  Wait—was that a flash of color? “Stop.”

  “What? I told you, it’s up ahead.”

  “Wait. Just…wait a moment.” He sharpened his magical gaze, trying to home in on the light, but when he tried, it faded tantalizingly away. Had he really seen it at all, or was it wishful thinking?

  If he had seen it, it was off to the right, maybe twenty feet away, behind some trees.

  “This way.”

  “But you said—”

  “This way,” he insisted, heading in that direction. There were so many trees here he wasn’t sure if they and their auras were obscuring his vision, or whether there was nothing there at all. He definitely couldn’t make out any shapes.

  Clyde sighed loudly and followed him. “Man, are you sure you’re—”

  Stone stepped around the last tree and stopped. There it was again, only for a moment, flickering at the edge of his vision, but it disappeared when he tried to look at it head-on. Almost as if it were an—

  “Bloody hell…” he murmured.

  As he pumped more power into his attempt to view it, the weak i
llusion faded away to reveal a shimmering rift in the air. This one didn’t look like the one at the mill in Devil’s Creek, but Stone was certain it was the same sort of phenomenon. It wasn’t yellow this time, and it definitely wasn’t orange—more of a flickering pale green. Instead of an irregularly-shaped, six-foot hole in the air, it appeared as more of a swirling mist. What the two had in common, though, was the shifting, dark figures moving around in their middles.

  But why was this one obscured by an illusion? Who had cast it?

  “What’s goin’ on?” Clyde demanded, breaking into his thoughts. “You see somethin’?”

  Stone didn’t want to take his eyes off the thing, in case it disappeared again. “You don’t, then, I take it.”

  “I don’t see a damn thing but trees. This ain’t some kinda joke, is it? Because I’m gettin’ pretty freaked out.”

  “It’s not a joke. Do you feel anything? The energized feeling you got before?”

  “I don’t…Hold on.” His voice went from petulant to nervous.

  “Do you?” Now Stone did turn his magical gaze on Clyde. He wasn’t at all surprised to see the man’s muddy blue-green aura traced with bits of the same pale green as the swirling patch ahead.

  “Yeah…yeah…Oh, fuck, it’s happenin’ again!” Clyde scrambled away, holding his hands up, eyes huge. “Oh, fuck! I don’t want this to happen again! Why’d I ever let you bring me out here? I’ve had enough of this, man!”

  Before Stone could stop him, he turned and took off, running toward a patch of trees. His flashlight beam swung and bobbed, illuminating trunks, branches, and for a second a startled squirrel that immediately darted away.

  “Clyde, wait!” Stone spun and flung himself forward, intending to give chase, even as he knew there was no way he’d track the man if he got out of sight. He raised his hand to grab him with a telekinetic grip.