“Where is she?” Josh demanded, pushing back against Parker, who stumbled backward.
“Sitting in my house on top of a bomb. It’s only an appetizer compared to what I left at Stevenson Industries, but plenty enough to make finding her remains quite the scavenger hunt. I can see the detonator so clearly in my mind. Just one stray thought from me will trigger it. So by all means, you can continue this little clash of the Titans. But if you do, you’re going to be scraping pieces of Jessie off the walls.”
Josh glared at Parker but made no further effort to fight him. Parker struggled to his feet. He fixed his gaze on the large wooden desk in front of Stevenson’s office and propelled it through the glass wall on their right, shattering the glass and sending the desk hurtling toward the ground below.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make my exit.” He limped over to the edge of the hallway where the glass was broken. “Because I’m a good sport, I’ll give you a few minutes to get out of here before I blow the place up.” Parker looked down at the ground and smiled. “Someday, maybe you’ll learn how to do this.” He stepped off the edge and let gravity take him.
Josh ran to the ledge and watched Parker’s descent. Somehow, as he grew closer to the ground, he slowed, almost as if he was somehow counterbalancing gravity’s effect on his body. By the time he neared the pavement below, he was almost floating and dropped to the ground like he had jumped off of a three-foot wall. Without looking back up, Parker disappeared around the end of the building.
His quarry now gone, Josh shifted his focus to Jessie, yet again in danger because of him. He had to hurry; though Parker had assured Josh that his surrender would yield Jessie’s safety, Josh couldn’t trust a man who had ended so many human lives already. Josh crashed through the door and sprinted down the stairs.
63
Ten floors below where Josh Williams and Parker squared off, Matt Harrison dashed through the hallways. He had found no trace of the slender, blonde girl named Jessie—nor of anyone else, for that matter. All the while he dashed into and out of rooms, breaking down locked doors, an invisible clock ticked down in his head, approaching the second that a bomb of unknown power would be detonated. Actually, there was no clock. Just the whim of a man who seemed to possess no qualms about killing people.
Matt reached the last doorway in the corridor, its door already swung open. He turned the corner into the room, expecting it to be empty like every other one had been. Instead, two men were standing over a metal, pull out shelf, like the kind found in morgues, looking down at what looked like a dead body. The room was cold. They stared at Josh as he entered.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” one of the men demanded. Neither of the men was the suited kind that had been guarding Stevenson Industries. Both wore oxfords and khakis, which matched the appearance of the second type of bodies now laying on the floor of Research Division B.
“Uh, I was just looking for something,” Matt said, tracing his steps back into the hallway. He caught a brief glimpse of the head of the body, which definitely belonged to a female, but probably not a blonde.
The man closest to Matt reached to his side for what Matt assumed was a weapon, but he didn’t wait around long enough to find out. He ran down the hallway, hoping that the men with the body didn’t give chase. Though the scene had been exceedingly suspicious and had aroused his curiosity, Matt didn’t have the luxury to deal with the two men in oxfords.
As he approached the stairwell, his phone vibrated. It was Felicia.
“Did you find her?” she asked.
“No sign of the girl Williams described, though I did find two guys moving a dead body or something,” he said while panting for air.
“You saw what? Nevermind. Doesn’t matter now. You need to get out of there now,” Felicia commanded, her voice urgent.
“Why? What happened?”
“I don’t know. Last I saw, Josh Williams and the other telekinetic were going at it. But I don’t know how long Williams can hold him.”
Matt stopped at the stairwell to catch his breath. “Where are you?” Just as he asked that question, he heard someone coming down the stairs. He aimed his gun at the sound.
“I’m coming down to the first floor,” he heard Felicia say over the phone and in person. She appeared at the top of the first landing. When she saw Matt down below, she stopped and put her phone away.
“Come on, let’s go,” she said, beckoning him upward.
“What about the blonde?”
“Did you look down there?” Felicia asked, gesturing in the direction Matt had just come from.
“Yes. Only saw the two guys with the dead body.”
“Then she’s probably not here. Or if she is, I have no idea where she’d be. So, come on.”
Matt sighed and then sped up the stairs. He hated the idea of leaving an innocent person behind, but his options seemed limited. The building was way too big to search from basement to top.
Felicia and Matt reached the first floor. The glass wall to the outside allowed them to see anything happening on the exterior. A myriad of different vehicles with flashing lights had now assembled outside: fire trucks, police cars, and ambulances. Now, with the exit in sight, both ran with as much velocity as they could muster. Every step he took, Matt braced for the coming explosion. But even as they reached the door, the explosion hadn’t come. Felicia pulled ahead of Matt—just slightly—as they cleared the perimeter that police had set up. No officer seemed quite sure how to approach the building, with its destruction potentially imminent.
It seemed to Matt that the police outside were in disarray. Some police cars—a mixture of state and local cops—were still pulling into the parking lot. He saw Woodside’s Chief shouting different orders to his officers, who scurried about to carry them out.
“Maybe the bomb threat was a hoax,” Matt said, watching the building which he assumed was now empty.
“Matt?” A strong male voice called out across the parking lot. Matt turned to see Chief Joseph approaching, his tall and lean form looking alert and ready to spring into action.
“Yes, sir?”
“John said you might know what’s happening. So, what’s happening?”
“Where is John?” Matt asked.
“He went to the hospital with Julia.” The grave look on the chief’s face suggested he agreed with Matt’s prognosis. “Now what’s going on in there?”
“There’s a...shooter. Supposedly, he has a bunch of explosives packed into a truck on the other side of the building that could detonate any second,” Matt said, figuring John had already told the chief that much. He intentionally left out Josh Williams, though possessed mixed feelings about doing so.
“Do you have any idea of where the shooter is? Is he still in the building?”
“Tenth floor, last I knew. But he could be gone now.”
The chief nodded and wiped his brow. He had probably never thought such a day would befall Woodside.
“Did you a see redhead come out with John?” Matt asked.
“Yeah. She’s getting checked out there by the ambulances,” the chief said. A rounder, shorter, but equally stern individual wearing a State Trooper uniform approached the chief. Matt took this occasion to slip away and look for Grace. Felicia went with him.
“I’m sorry about your uncle,” Matt said as they searched for Grace among the different emergency vehicles.
“Thank you,” Felicia said, her tone somber; Matt wondered if he’d ever meet the firecracker others has described the reporter as.
“Julia’s not going to make it, is she?” Felicia asked.
Matt stopped and breathed in deep. “No. Not unless there’s a miracle. Of course, what do I know?” He caught sight of Grace’s familiar silhouette ten feet away, sitting on the edge of an ambulance, wrapped in a blanket. Matt walked over to her and sat beside her. For a moment, she turned her head and looked at him, but then averted her gaze. Felicia now stood in front of them. Matt reach
ed his arm around Grace and pulled her into him. She gave into the slight force, but Matt suspected she would’ve surrendered to any gravity that pulled her that night.
And then it came: a mixture of thunder and light. The ground shook as a pillar of fire climbed the ten stories of Stevenson Industries. Since the blast originated from the other side of the building, its energy didn’t quite reach their location. But people around them screamed or fell to the ground. Matt found himself grabbing Felicia’s waist and tucking her between himself and Grace, just in case.
Once the explosion had transformed into a pillar of smoke and dust, Matt turned his head back toward the building. The cloud of rubble hanging over Stevenson Industries obscured what the real damage was. Perhaps the wings of the building were salvageable. But Matt didn’t care about that. He thought about Josh Williams—that curious overlap between vigilante, hero, villain, and victim. Maybe he was no more now. But the other one, the man formerly known as Greg Tolliver, Matt suspected the world had not seen the end of him, yet.
64
By the time the explosion had rocked Stevenson Industries, Josh had already descended the stairwell on the far side of the building and pushed through the fire door on the first floor. He never even looked back when the flames devoured the back end of the ornate, glass building. Only one thing mattered to him.
Behind Stevenson Industries lay a narrow undeveloped, wooded area, which afforded him cover as he made his escape. Conceivably, the authorities could’ve been looking for him. But no one had made it to the backside of the building where the explosion had occurred. Josh steered clear of the unpredictable blast zone, making his way toward the house where he and Parker had picked up the truck, less than an hour ago.
Josh contemplated his would-be mentor’s betrayal. Why had Parker wanted Josh to come with him so badly? In the end, Josh had only incapacitated a few guards. He hadn’t needed him to do too much more as he followed Parker’s pendulum of destruction through the basement of Research Division B. If anything, Josh had been a detriment to Parker’s advance; maybe Parker had never anticipated Josh turning on him. And perhaps if they hadn’t run into the two women in the room with Jack Walton, then Josh might not have tried to stop Parker.
Josh pushed these thoughts out of his mind as he approached the edge of the wooded area which bordered the small side streets closest to Stevenson Industries. A group of people—probably residents from the few houses that dotted the street—had gathered near the intersection with the larger road, gawking at the spectacle that had disturbed their quiet neighborhood. Josh, who had already ditched the delivery shirt Parker had given him to wear back in Stevenson Industries, surveyed the scene to make sure no one was watching him. But even if the crowd of onlookers happened to turn his way, the early arriving darkness afforded him enough cover to pass by undetected—or at least unrecognized.
And so Josh made his way across the street, to a more deserted road that led to Parker’s house. No one was outside to watch him approach the unassuming house. His car was parked outside, tucked behind the house so no one could see it from the road. Josh approached the back door. He was about to use his powers on it but then tried the knob and discovered it was unlocked.
He stepped carefully into the house as if there might have been booby traps set to welcome him. Parker wouldn’t be that sadistic, would he? Josh flicked on the light switch and tread carefully into a dated kitchen with linoleum floors and Formica cabinets. The counters and table tops were mostly empty, dotted by a salt and pepper shaker, napkin holder, and coasters. Parker was neat. Josh couldn’t decide if that fact surprised him or not.
He passed into a similarly dated living room. The room didn’t possess much in the way of furnishings, just one couch, and chair. Of course, Parker didn’t seem to spend much time here. This was never meant to be his home, just an outpost from which to launch his assault on Stevenson Industries.
Josh found a hollow wood door in the hallway. He opened it and felt the cool air from the basement rush into his face. Moving his hand across the wall, he found a light switch and flicked it on. A dim swath of light illuminated the stairs and floor below, creating a forest of shadows.
“Jessie?” he called down the narrow staircase. No one answered though Josh thought he heard something break the eerie silence of the house. He proceeded down the steps, which creaked beneath his weight. He discovered another switch at the bottom of the steps and now the area to his right was made visible.
There, in front of the dark wooden paneling of the wall, was Jessie. She was bound and gagged, tied to a rickety old metal chair. Underneath the chair was a five-gallon bucket of what looked like some kind of fertilizer mix with some sort of make-shift detonator protruding out of the bucket. But Josh didn’t pause to inspect Parker’s handiwork. He hustled behind Jessie and untied her hands. Then he lifted the gag off her mouth. Just to be safe, Josh levitated her off the chair and gently set her on the ground. As soon as her feet hit the chipping linoleum tiles on the floor, she threw her arms around Josh and buried her head in his chest.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispered into her ear, the understatement of the century. He ran his hand along her back. Despite the ordeal, she seemed calm. They remained in that position for longer than they should have.
“I knew you’d come for me,” she said, her face still flat against his chest. “Who was that man who took me?”
“His name was Parker. He used you to get to me. He told me Stevenson Industries took you captive to draw me out because he wanted me to help him attack it. But you weren’t there. Then I realized what he had done.”
She pulled her head back so she could look into his eyes. “Is he gone?”
“I think so. But a lot of things happened. He killed lots of people. There was a bomb.”
“Are you okay?”
Josh nodded. “A little bruised, but somehow I’m alright, otherwise.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” He wrapped his hand around her wrist to lead her out, but she held her ground.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Back to your parents’ house. You’ll be safe there, I think.” Safe was still a relative term for Jessie. But Josh doubted Parker would come back for her.
“And where will you go?” she asked, her eyes suspicious.
He sighed and turned his body back toward her. “Jessie, I have to go. Things happened tonight. The police know who I am and will think I was involved. I can’t stay.”
“I want to go where you go.” Her voice was adamant.
“It’s not that simple. I can’t ask you to do that. The police know who you are, too. They’ll be able to trace me through you. You’d have to leave your family.”
“Then I’ll become someone else. At least, for awhile. They’ll stop looking for you eventually, right? Just don’t leave me—I want to be with you.” She gazed at him, her eyes pleading.
A variety of differing thoughts jostled inside Josh’s mind. He wanted what Jessie was talking about. This was the new life they had discussed in such euphoric terms all the way back when they were on the run from her abusive boyfriend. But he couldn’t ask her to leave her family, could he? The more Josh considered the situation, the more opportunities he saw. Maybe the police would think Josh was dead. The last anyone saw of him, he was on the tenth floor of a building where a bomb went off. And as far as anyone else knew, Jessie was inside, too. To the outside world, they might be dead. Josh remembered the lockbox he kept in a bank thirty minutes away. Inside was a roll of cash, a new driver’s license, and passport. He’d been prepared to run for years.
Of course, the only evidence Josh really needed could be found in Jessie’s eyes. Against all odds, she trusted him. And wanted to be with him.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asked, holding both of her hands in his.
“Absolutely,” she said. A small smile spread across her face. Maybe Jessie had no idea what she was ge
tting into. But wasn’t that the way love was supposed to work? Josh made his decision. Hand in hand, Josh and Jessie ran up the stairs and out of the house to a world of unknown possibility and danger.
65
Matt watched Grace as she sat on the couch in her apartment, wrapped in a blanket. The TV was on and she stared in its general direction, though Matt doubted she was really watching. It just so happened the news was playing; the events from the previous week at Stevenson Industries were still part of the local news cycle.
Indeed, the national media had dissected the shootout and the bombing which had rendered the beautiful pharmaceutical headquarters uninhabitable. Experts had argued whether this was some kind of terrorist attack. The motives of the mastermind behind the bombing—who had left a string of bodies across Woodside before the attack, as well as an assortment of explosives rigged to detonate when the assault on Stevenson Industries took place—were so murky that speculation still ran rampant. And nothing fed the news machine like speculation. No one had been arrested. Whoever perpetrated the attack had slipped away in the chaos and confusion. Only a generic drawing pieced together from witnesses remained. Josh Williams’ name and identity had not been attached to the story as of yet. As far as Matt knew, no one had seen Josh Williams or Jessie Walters since the explosion. Perhaps they hadn’t survived.
At any rate, the news was displaying a statement issued by Robert Stevenson, expressing condolences to those who lost their lives in the attack—miraculously, the building had been evacuated before the bomb went off, so the only casualties in the event were those the other telekinetic had dispatched personally. Stevenson also promised to rebuild and continue the “life-changing and world-saving work of Stevenson Industries”. What that had to do with Research Division B was anyone’s guess.
“Maybe we should change the channel,” Matt said. Grace remained motionless as he walked over and grabbed the remote off the coffee table in front of the couch. He aimed the remote at the TV and scrolled through the unappealing options of late morning weekday television.
Death Prophets Page 27
