Death Prophets

by Steve Armstrong

  The grinding of metal against ceramic interrupted Parker’s actions, forcing him to swing the gun in the direction of the door. Whoever was outside had pushed the desk away from the door far enough to get a gun through the crack. From the angle Josh was sitting, all he could see was an extended arm pointing a handgun into their room. Josh froze, undecided over who he should help and who he should fight.

  The gun pointing into the room fired, once, twice. Parker, still levitating Walton’s sidearm, emptied the magazine at his attacker, causing a yelp of pain from behind the door. The shooting on the outside ceased for a second, but then resumed as a different gun, at a different angle fired at Parker.

  This time, Parker stood, his eyes defiant. He swept his arm across his body, causing an invisible shockwave that brought an end to the second round of gunfire. With a defiant swagger, Parker walked past Josh toward the door, forgetting about the redhead for the moment.

  “It’s time to finish this,” he said, entering the hallway. “It’s already late, and I need to be upstairs.”

  60

  Felicia Monroe pulled into the parking lot of Stevenson Industries. She was surprised to find only one police car in front of the building. By now, she figured the place would be crawling with cops. Maybe John hadn’t called in back-up?

  Despite the lack of police presence, the property was awash in activity. People streamed out the main lobby doors, as well as the fire doors on the sides of the building. Clearly, something was going down.

  Felicia called John. He didn’t answer. Next, she tried Matt. But he didn’t pick up, either. Neither of these facts surprised her, though. If the Harrison brothers were squaring off against Josh Williams and the second telekinetic Matt had warned her about, they’d be unlikely to answer her calls.

  The reporter breathed in deep. A month ago, she would have plunged into the melee without giving it a second thought. Now, she hesitated, unsure of herself. Even though she had faced an armed Mike Sullivan and his brother and held her own in the process, Felicia considered remaining a spectator. Maybe she didn’t belong in situations like this one. She had done enough already. Because of her, Josh Williams had fallen into the clutches of Stevenson Industries and become something monstrous. If she hadn’t intervened, none of this would be happening. If only she had Richard Anderson’s humility–his steadfast belief that he couldn’t alter the course of history.

  But then Felicia thought of her uncle. And she thought of John. And Grace. Where else should Felicia be but with all of them, sharing in their fate? She reached into her purse and pulled out her 9mm. Felicia tucked it into her pants pocket then exited her car. Something inside her urged her to enter through one of the side doors—the one that led directly to Research Division B.

  While the throng of people flooded through the exits, Felicia pushed her way upstream.

  61

  Matt and John lay on their backs on the floor in the hallway. John gingerly pushed himself off the floor to a sitting position, his back against the wall, holding his ribs as he did so. Matt shook off the impact of hitting the wall while he scrambled to find his gun. But before Matt could reach the weapon—which had slid about ten feet down the hallway—the second telekinetic emerged from his bunker.

  “You two again, huh?” the unknown man said. Parker spied both guns on the floor and they instantly began to levitate. Matt watched in horror as the guns began to turn on him and John.

  But before the telekinetic could dispatch them, a different gunshot reverberated through the hallway. The telekinetic’s right leg began to fold underneath him and the guns turning toward Matt and John clattered against the floor. Matt glanced around his assailant’s feet to ascertain who had come to their aid. Felicia Monroe, gun trained on the telekinetic approached from the opposite stairwell. Somehow in the milieu, she had snuck up on the attacker.

  Seizing this new opportunity, Matt reached out for his gun. Parker caught this movement from the corner of his eye and sent Matt and his weapon flying. Felicia took another shot, grazing Parker’s left shoulder. This time, he threw Felicia back toward the stairwell, disarming her in the process. The telekinetic staggered down the hallway toward her. Matt feared what his reprisal against Felicia would be.

  The reporter gazed at the man approaching her, curiosity dulling the edges of her fear. The closer he came, the wider her eyes became.

  “I recognize you. You’re Greg Tolliver.”

  At the mention of the name, the telekinetic stopped. He stared at Felicia as if that name somehow held power over him and prevented him from moving any further.

  “I haven’t heard that name in a long time,” he said.

  “So you didn’t die in the car crash,” Felicia said.

  “No.” Parker remained still, sizing up this brazen female who knew things about him that no one else did. “But the John Doe in the morgue got one hell of a send-off.”

  John, more alert now, had almost retrieved his gun when the telekinetic sent another burst of energy his way, flattening him into the opposite wall. Matt reached out for his weapon, but Parker extended his hand and the gun flew into it like he was holding a powerful magnet.

  Unphased by the recent flurry of activity, Felicia rejoined her questioning. “And you didn’t die from Chapman-Bower’s Disease.”

  Parker started moving again, though his steps seemed less menacing as he hobbled forward. “It seems Dr. Banks really did create a miracle cure. Of course, it had some unintended side effects that some might find troublesome, though I myself have grown quite fond of them.”

  “So was it you who broke into Dr. Banks’ lab and killed him? And all the other test patients?”

  Felicia—now sitting on her buttocks—shimmied herself backward into the stairwell, fearing any sudden movements would spark the telekinetic’s aggression.

  “Sorry. We don’t really have the time for story hour. And you probably know too much for me to let you live.” He raised the gun he was holding.

  Without warning, Josh Williams stepped into the hallway. As soon as he did, Parker surged into the wall, striking his injured left shoulder against the wall. Parker attempted to square himself toward Josh, but Felicia launched herself into his knees. His balance already compromised, Parker crumbled to the floor and Felicia fell onto him in a heap. But almost as soon as she landed on him, Felicia floated into the air.

  “Do you know how much force it takes to break someone’s neck?” he asked, rising to his feet and moving behind her so she became a human shield. But Parker lost his footing as if he had been sideswiped. John and Matt had located their weapons again and aimed at Parker, but once again, he cut them down along with Josh in one glancing blow.

  “Damn’t!” he said. “I didn’t come here for any of you! I came here for one more man! And now he’s probably already gotten away!”

  Parker gradually rose to his feet and ambled into the stairwell as quickly as he could, slamming the door shut behind him just as Matt retrieved his gun again. With Parker out of the picture, Matt aimed his gun at the only pseudo-antagonist he saw left: Josh Williams, who raised his hands.

  “I don’t want to hurt anyone!” Josh said.

  “Yeah, I can tell that by the bodies in the hallway!” Matt said.

  “Parker did that, not me,” Josh said. “Look, someone was shot in there, a girl.”

  Matt shoved Josh aside and darted into the room. Once he cleared the initial office room and passed into the holding room, he found Grace, kneeling over another person, her hands trembling and blood smearing her shirt. She looked up at Matt, her eyes nearly vacant.

  “Grace! Are you shot?” Matt bent down and wrapped his arms around her. He saw Jack Walton’s body, soulless and still. And then he realized who Grace was kneeling over. “Oh, no. No.” He shook his head, hoping that somehow he had this wrong. But he didn’t. He knew he didn’t. “John, get in here. It’s Julia!”

  John hustled in, his eyes shifting from Walton to Grace to the woman on the floor, no
w obscured by both Matt and Grace’s frames. The same agony that washed over John’s features when he learned of his little sister’s death welled up in his eyes now. Matt cleared out of the way so John could see his fiancée, blood soaking through her sweater and blouse. Her eyes lay partially open and possibly fluttered a bit when she saw John. A murmur passed through her lips but was too weak to be audible. John ran his fingers through her hair.

  “She’s barely breathing,” John said, forcing himself to remain composed as he checked her sluggish pulse. “I’m going to lose her if we don’t get help now.”

  Felicia, now standing on the outside of the room, pulled out her phone, on the off chance that help hadn’t already been called. But the police who had promised to come earlier still hadn’t arrived, leaving Matt and John to figure out what should happen next.

  “It was supposed to be me,” Grace said, finding her voice for the first time since Matt had entered. “It was supposed to be me.” She rocked back and forth, holding herself with her bloody hands.

  Felicia limped into the room. She covered her mouth as she watched John stroke Julia’s hair. But then she realized who was lying just a few feet away from Julia and gasped. Her face contorted in grief and tears began rolling down her cheeks. Slowly, she knelt to the ground. The awfulness of seeing Julia shot had made Matt forget about the grief that had awaited Felicia. Matt put his hand on Felicia’s shoulder; she had no one else to comfort her. There was too much pain in this room.

  Josh Williams slowly walked in, his hands at his sides. When Matt saw him, he lunged to his feet and pushed Williams into the wall, pointing the gun at his chest. But Williams didn’t resist, even though Matt knew deep down that the telekinetic man could have unleashed numerous effective countermeasures against this assault.

  “I’m sorry. It was Parker. I tried to stop him. He wanted to shoot her.” Josh nodded toward Grace, who was now standing, listening to Williams. “But the blonde girl jumped in front.”

  Grace placed her hand on Matt’s shoulder. “He did try to stop the other one.”

  “We have other problems,” Josh said. “Parker left a bomb in the loading bay.”

  “How big?” Matt asked.

  “It’s one of those box trucks and it’s filled with barrels of something. I don’t know what it is. As soon as he leaves her, he’s going to blow it up, I think.”

  A box truck. Off the top of his head, Matt could recall two notorious bombings that had utilized such vehicles: Oklahoma City and the first World Trade Center bombing.

  “Is it on a timer, detonator, what?” Matt asked.

  “I don’t know. He didn’t say. But he doesn’t have to see things to move them with his mind. He has a photographic memory–that’s how he shot at you when he couldn’t see you,” Josh said.

  Matt relinquished his grasp on Josh. He turned to the tragic scene at his feet. “John, if what’s he saying is true, we have to get out of here.”

  “It’s not safe to move her like this,” John said, staring at his motionless fiancée. Though John’s voice was calm, Matt could tell his brother was performing terrible calculations in his head. The rate of blood loss times the minutes since she had been shot...the equation was not working in Julia’s favor.

  “John, we have to move,” Matt said, his voice forceful yet gentle. “Come on.”

  Without looking back, John reached his arms under Julia and hoisted her up. Matt had a sneaking suspicion how this would turn out, but said nothing; at this point, they had to act in hope.

  “I’ll go stall Parker. If I can keep him in the building, he won’t detonate the bomb,” Josh said.

  “Are you sure you can hold him?” Matt asked, still heading toward the elevator.

  “At least for a little while. I think he’s trying to kill Stevenson, but I don’t know where his office is. Do you?”

  “Yeah, I can take you,” Felicia said, still on her knees next to her uncle. She wiped the tears from her eyes.

  “You should get out of here, too,” Matt said.

  Felicia rose to her feet. “Look, I know my way around this building. I can get Josh there. Just get Grace and Julia out.”

  Matt nodded, but Josh grabbed his shoulder. “I need you to do something for me. I can’t find Jessie. Can you find her? She’s blonde, medium height, skinny. She doesn’t seem to be here.”

  Matt sighed and turned to Grace. “You go with John, okay? Get to safety and I’ll find you afterward.”

  She nodded slightly and stumbled after John, who was still carrying Julia like he was in some sort of funeral procession.

  “Any ideas where she’d be?” Matt asked Felicia.

  “If she’s not on this floor, there’s another wing Research Division B sometimes uses on the other side of this stairwell. Check there. And if she’s not there, I don’t know.”

  Matt shook his head. “Well, good luck. I’ll see you guys on the other side.”

  Considering that Josh and Felicia were pursuing a sociopathic telekinetic and Matt was searching for a girl held captive in a large company while a bomb waited to detonate somewhere in the building’s heart, the meaning of the ‘other side’ seemed a little ambiguous at the moment.

  62

  Felicia led the way into the stairwell where Parker had just passed. Before she ascended the stairs, she stooped down to retrieve her gun from the ground. Parker must have missed it on his way through. Josh watched her bend over and assumed the gun was a precautionary tactic against Parker, pushing out of his mind the fact that the last time Felicia and Josh were in the same room, she had pointed a gun at him and he had knocked her into a wall. The reporter clutched the gun in her right hand and then bounded up the stairs. Josh followed her, remaining one step behind.

  “What floor is Stevenson’s office on?” Josh asked, breaking the tense and awkward silence.

  “Tenth floor,” she said without looking back.

  The two became quiet again. Every so often, they saw drops of blood on the stairs, a sign that Parker had been there and a reminder that he was injured. By the time they reached the eighth floor, both were breathing a little heavier, feeling the effects of every step they had climbed thus far.

  “The building seems pretty empty,” Josh said, pausing for a moment at the top of the landing while he clutched the railing. He would’ve opted for a break, but Felicia kept charging up toward the ninth floor, forcing him to keep pace.

  “A bunch of people were leaving when I came in. I think they’ve evacuated the building,” Felicia said.

  “I hope so,” Josh said, not wanting to think about what would happen if Parker decided at that moment to detonate the truck.

  After a few more minutes passed, they reached the tenth floor. Felicia seemed to hold the gun a little tighter as she placed her other hand on the door to the right.

  “Stevenson’s office is right through there,” she said.

  Josh placed his hand on her shoulder. “Let me go first.”

  Felicia moved slightly to the side to let him pass. Josh pushed the door open as quietly as possible. When the door was open fully, he stepped into the empty corridor. These floors were solid wood and the lights were still on, though no one moved and everything was deathly quiet. A large oak desk standing sentry in front of two large, solid wood doors was conspicuously empty.

  “You ever been up here before?” Josh asked in a whisper.

  “A few times,” Felicia replied, creeping behind him, her gun at the ready.

  There were no other doors or rooms to check before they reached Stevenson’s office, which also meant if Parker was still inside, he’d have to go through them first.

  “Maybe he’s already come and gone. He did have a head start on us,” Josh said.

  “Maybe. But I clipped his leg and that would’ve made it really hard to get up those stairs.”

  “Hey, maybe you should get out of here,” Josh said. Felicia looked at him. “You got me where we needed to go and that’s enough.”


  “And what about you? You don’t think Parker will kill you, too?”

  Josh didn’t answer though by now had his doubts about his would-be mentor.

  “Besides, I don’t think you can take him on your own,” Felicia said.

  “Fine. You can take one shot at him. But stay behind me, and if you don’t hit him, just get out of here because then having you here will be more of a liability than a help.”

  Felicia didn’t have a chance to respond because the double doors at the end of the corridor swung open. As expected, Parker emerged from behind them. Josh’s reflexes weren’t fast enough; he hesitated in how to fight Parker, giving his mentor the chance to push him back into the wall. Felicia managed to fire three shots in rapid succession, but every one failed to hit her target. When she lost Josh as her shield, she made a run for the door before Parker could turn his full attention to her and use her weapon against them. Felicia tripped as she ran away, which Josh attributed to Parker’s interference. But the reporter made it through the door before coming under Parker’s power.

  “Guess it’s just you and me now,” Parker said, hobbling toward Josh.

  Josh, flat against the wall, focused his energy on Parker’s injured leg, toppling Parker to the ground. He screamed out in pain.

  “I can’t let you leave,” Josh said, rising to his feet. But another telekinetic blow sent him hurtling backward.

  “I really don’t want to kill you, Josh. Or your girlfriend. But I will. You’ve already made me miss my appointment with Robert Stevenson. If you keep me here any longer, the Woodside Police Department is going to move past the wild goose chase I sent them on.”

  Josh craned his head and stared at Parker. “Wait, you took Jessie? Why?”

  “To force your hand. I wanted you to come with me and your adorable little love affair with her was taking away your edge. I know it sounds selfish of me, but really it was for both of us.”