The Preston Six Collection: (Book 1, 2 and 3)

by Ryan, Matt

  The corner of Emmett’s mouth pulled back a smidgen. “I can help you and you can help me. Our entire world is in total chaos, so you can appreciate the time I’m taking to come here and make an offer.”

  “No,” Joey said without an ounce of doubt in it.

  “I figured you might be against this. Perhaps I can convince Samantha or Poly. I can be very persuasive,” he hissed out the last word.

  “If you go anywhere near them, I’ll kill you.”

  Emmett laughed. “Then maybe you’ll agree to let me help you.”

  “How?”

  “First, I can cut those shackles off. After that, we can find what triggers your time manipulation, maybe we can even create a way for you to trigger it. It might be that anger you’re holding right now.” Emmett took a half step closer. “You feel it, don’t you? You feel it wanting to be released. I bet you’d love to choke the life from me right now.”

  “Yes.” Spit flew from between Joey’s teeth.

  “Good.” Emmett took a step back. “I prefer to have you, Joey. But if I can’t have you, I’ll take another. I don’t want much.”

  “And what do you want from me?”

  “I want to study what you have.”

  Joey took in a deep breath. He would never be rid of them. He was a fool for thinking it could possibly be over. He couldn’t let Emmett hurt his friends. They needed to live in a world where MM didn’t want anything from them. Let his friends think they had won for a while longer. He owed it to them.

  “If you promise to never go near my friends and let them live their normal lives, I’ll go with you.”

  “Agreed. I’ll be back here, at this very spot, in one week.”

  “Okay, same time and place.” Joey pointed to the ground.

  Emmett nodded, pivoted, and walked into the forest.

  Joey breathed out and slumped forward, placing his hands on his knees. He felt dizzy. One of the most dangerous men in the world just confronted him, one on one. He straightened up and walked down the dirt road, avoiding Emmett’s foot prints—the only physical evidence of the encounter.

  EVERYTHING IS NORMAL. KEEP UP appearances.

  The next day, he kept his mind busy by shopping for new handguns with his dad. He hadn’t told anyone about the encounter with Emmett and the secret began to weigh on him. Even as he held the Colt semi-automatic gun in his hand.

  “You doing okay?” Minter asked.

  “Yeah, just thinking. I’m sorry I lost your guns.”

  “Those were yours and I don’t care about some guns, son.” His eyes said he wanted to say more, but he glanced at the gunsmith and pursed his lips. “You like that one?”

  “Can I shoot it?” It was one thing to hold the beauty in your hands and feel the fine craftsmanship, it was an entirely different thing to shoot it and feel the recoil, the trigger, hear the sound.

  “Sure, I’ve got a range in the basement. Can your kid shoot, Minter?”

  “Yeah, he can shoot.”

  The portly gunsmith wiped his hands with a rag and went to the front door, locked it and flipped the closed sign over. They followed the man to the back of the store and down the stairs.

  The basement smelled of gunpowder and a musty smell of a poorly ventilated basement. A table sat on one side of the room and along the other was a wall of sandbags that once probably reached the ceiling, but with the hundreds of holes in the bags, much of the sand had drained on the floor. A few loose targets hung on for life.

  The shopkeeper handed Joey a set of headphones and then he pushed a clip into the gun and cocked it back. “Alright, son. You’ve got live ammo in there. Never point it in any other direction than those sandbags. We clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” Joey placed the headphones over his ears and took the gun. The full clip put extra weight on it and he adjusted his grip.

  Raising the gun, he pointed it at the target down range. It was close enough to throw a rock, but he wanted to show his dad he could shoot now. His finger danced on the trigger, it felt like it’d been too long since he last shot. Relaxing his breathing, he pulled the trigger. The nine millimeter bullet smashed through the bullseye.

  “Nice shot.”

  Joey pulled the trigger again and unloaded the clip, hitting the bullseye on each of the six paper targets lining the back wall. He set the gun on the table and used his hands to steady himself. He breathed hard and stared at the paper targets fluttering from the assault.

  “Whoa, I’ve never seen shooting like that. Look . . . right in the middle, each one of them.” The shopkeeper moved closer to the targets and leaned forward.

  “Yeah, pretty good.” Minter’s curious tone came through the headphones Joey still wore. Did they even notice he shot through the same hole on several of the targets?

  “Can I shoot two at the same time?”

  “You’re one heck of a shot, but a real shooter only shoots one gun at a time.”

  Minter crossed his arms and then motioned with a hand. “Give him the other gun, I want to see it,” he said.

  The shopkeeper huffed, but obliged and placed another gun in front of Joey and replaced the clip in the other one. He stood off to the side and crossed his arms, shaking his head.

  “Pick a number,” Joey said.

  The man uncrossed his arms and looked down range at the targets. In each corner there were tiny stars with a number in each one.

  “Three.” Doubt was thick in his voice.

  Joey raised the guns and rapid fired with both hands, placing the guns on the table when he was done.

  “That’s impossible.” The man leaned on the table at the targets. Each tiny star that held the number three had a hole through the middle. “What have you been doing with this kid, Minter?”

  “We’ll take them both, and a few boxes of ammo and a dozen clips.”

  “Uh, yeah.” The man stared down the range, mesmerized by the holed targets.

  The truck ride home, Joey held the box of goodies on his lap. It didn’t bring the joy he’d hoped for. He just couldn’t kick the stuff from his mind. Every way he looked at his future was struggle, pain, death. The guns were the easy part.

  “How’d you shoot like that?” Minter glanced from him to the road, fingers tapping the steering wheel.

  “I don’t know, I just see the target and aim the gun.”

  “No, you shot both targets at the same time. That guy was right, it’s impossible.”

  Great, even his dad was putting him into the freak category. “I feel the targets, it’s just something I learned in training with Harris.”

  “Don’t forget, Harris trained me too. I’m great, but what you did back there is something beyond a good shot, it was perfect.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, I just know where the bullet needs to go and it goes there.”

  The ride home was silent until they neared their driveway.

  “You’ll have to go to school tomorrow.”

  “School? We could be attacked there.”

  “The parents talked about it last night while you and Poly were out.”

  He knew. Somehow it stung that one secret was known. Poly’s name brought out the pain in his gut. It will kill him to see her and not be able to touch her. Maybe it was a good thing though, in a public setting, Poly wouldn’t be able to stab him.

  “I know it’s not ideal, but the principal has been sniffing around. Even the sheriff’s stopped by a few times. You kids got to make an appearance.”

  “Fine.”

  “And you’re not bringing those guns to school.”

  “Like I’d ever do something so stupid.”

  MRS. NIRES STOOD BEHIND HER desk at the front of the class. She gave the Preston Six no extra attention, even as the school rumbled with shocked greetings and close conversations as they walked by. Lucas loved the attention and high-fived the students he knew.

  Joey sat in the same seat as always and stared at the back of Poly.

  “I know a few of you’
ve been gone for a while.” Mrs. Nires gazed at each of them. “So we’ll review some of chapter two in world history.”

  The classroom filled with noise as people pulled out their history books and plopped them on their desks. Joey pulled his book from his bag and opened it to chapter two, the French revolution.

  The next few hours passed like a dream. If he had to take a test on the subject, he would have failed. His mind wouldn’t concentrate on the reality around him. All the thoughts he had were filled with Poly, grinners, Emmett, Harris, and the war raging beyond the stones. The struggles the people of Ryjack had to deal with were beyond comprehension and Vanar had plummeted into total chaos.

  Poly hadn’t looked back the entire time. Samantha had given him a few smiles and he returned them with his own. But the joy didn’t reach his face. He knew then that he needed to keep Emmett secret from his friends. How could he drag them into that world again? He had to find a way to kill him by himself.

  LUCAS LIKED THE NOISES OF the class, the smell of paper and teenagers, the backs of people’s heads, the teachers giving lectures. Julie glanced back at him and they exchanged their flirty looks. The many miles of Ryjack gave him the deep appreciation of those normal things. Did she feel the same way as him? Did the rest of the Preston Six? He took inventory.

  Samantha and Poly were quiet, but they usually were in class. Hank poked at his book and looked to the door. The big guy was probably excited about lunch. But Joey . . . he didn’t look right. He kept his head down and kept glancing at the window. He didn’t say hello when he got to class, choosing to just plop down in his seat and sulk there for the whole day. He was holding something in, Lucas was sure of it.

  The lunch bell rang.

  Was it taco day or pizza day? The possibilities were exciting. Lucas jumped up from his seat and headed to Julie. She wore a geek chic outfit, and was hot as Hell—like a naughty librarian.

  “You ready for lunch?” Lucas asked her.

  “Sure, what is it today, chimichangas?”

  “I hope so.” Could it be any better of a day?

  Joey moved by him to the door with his head down. Did Lucas really want to figure out what was bugging him? Last time he got to the bottom of a Joey mystery, it involved Arracks ambushing them in the forest.

  No, all Lucas wanted to do is get their food and sit at their table. It was always his favorite part of the day, nothing like sitting with friends and having a meal. They entered the cafeteria and Joey stood behind their table, looking confused and pointing at a group of kids sitting at their table. Their table. Oh, hell no. Lucas moved passed Julie and got next to Joey.

  Brent looked up with his smug face. Of course it was Brent, after he tried to hit on Julie in front of them all, now the guy had the nerve to take their table. Lucas scanned the other faces of the table, some were familiar, some weren’t. So, he even recruited others to his cause.

  By this point, the whole Preston Six made a half circle around the table. Silence spread over the cafeteria. One person at the table slid their chair back and made the motion to stand.

  “No, sit down,” Brent directed and then looked to our group. “You’ve been gone a long time. Things have changed, this is our table now.”

  “It’s got our name on it, it’s ours,” Samantha said.

  Brent raised an eyebrow and moved his arm from the tabletop. Scratch marks covered the Preston Six on the table.

  “You scratched it out?” Joey said, distant as he fixated on the sight.

  If he hadn’t killed men, Lucas might’ve jumped all over Brent and stuffed a taco in his face. “This table is important to us, find another.”

  Brent laughed. “Now it’s important to me. You can leave.”

  “It’s important to us,” Joey said, trembling.

  Lucas took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. Joey didn’t appear to have the same ability, he grabbed the table and lifted the edge, tossing it over. The people on the other side scrambled out of their chairs to get out of the way.

  Gasps filled the cafeteria. Brent slid back in his chair but never stood. He grinned at the display. “Way to go, psycho.”

  Joey turned and faced Lucas. “He can’t take it, we can’t lose everything.”

  “I agree and that was awesome.” The table legs pointed to the ceiling and the empty chairs scattered around the table. Joey breathed hard and stared at Brent. Lucas was just about to get all crazy up in there, but seeing his man Joey do it was heartwarming. Maybe nothing was wrong with Joey after all.

  “Why don’t you lunatics go ahead and take the table, with my blessings. We’ll call it crazy table for all you loons.”

  Brent stood from his chair and joined his small group of friends. They took over a nearby table and made a couple kids get up from it. Hank grabbed their table and righted it. Each of them took a chair and slid it into the table.

  Joey sat where their names had been inscribed, picking at it with his finger.

  The principal tapped on his shoulder. “Come with me, Joey.”

  “Oh, busted,” Brent called from across the room. “People like that shouldn’t be at school. Go back to wherever you were, bro.”

  Lucas shot Brent a piercing stare, but it only brought on laughter from his table. Lucas gritted his teeth and watched Joey take a walk through the cafeteria with the principal’s hand on his arm.

  Poly started laughing. What could possibly be so funny? Lucas frowned and saw the rest of his friends with the same expression.

  “Try to kill us and we’re all ‘meh’ but try to take our table and it’s on like Donkey Kong,” Poly said in near hysterics.

  She was right, he’d killed grinners, waited to die in cells, killed a man with his bowstring and watched half his friends be taken from him. The table seemed such a distant problem when put in perspective. He started to laugh with Poly. “The look on their faces when Joey flipped the table!”

  They all laughed.

  The laughter slowed and they each got their plates of food. By the time they were back at the table. Joey made his return. He sighed and sat down at his chair.

  “Five hours of detention.”

  “Dang,” Hank said and bit into his taco, the stale shell crumbled in his plus size hand, spilling all the contents onto his plate.

  “Worth every minute.” Joey sneered at Brent.

  “Dang right, ain’t nobody messing with Joey Foust and his lunch table again,” Lucas said and raised his hand for a high five. Joey stared at it and Lucas thought he might leave him hanging, but he slapped his hand.

  “Dang right.”

  Laughter spread through the table and Joey perked up a bit.

  “I’ll do the time with you,” Samantha said, giving him a private smile.

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll do it alone.” He glanced at Poly and took a bite out of his taco.

  Samantha frowned and looked put off.

  What the hell. The man was infatuated with Samantha, wasn’t he? Something didn’t add up. Lucas would be watching Joey. It’d be just like him to keep something important to himself.

  JOEY STOOD ON THE DARK road. It’d been a week from Hell, as the struggle to tell his friends about Emmett grew in pressure each day. The great table-flipping incident gave them and many others at school something to talk about for the week. Anything to get them distracted from what he was planning. Although, Lucas eyed him at all times—the guy was sharp at sniffing out a secret. Joey felt he pulled it off, but he couldn’t be sure at this point.

  Poly had barely looked at him since the night at the lake. She found every reason to start a conversation and not include him. It felt like stabbing daggers every time it happened, but she would get over it eventually, even if he wouldn’t.

  He hated keeping his friends in the dark. It was what their parents did to them. He’d sworn to be honest, but how could he? With each passing day, they lost some of their cold stares, and laughter was creeping back in. They were relaxing. They had no idea Emmett was w
atching them and he wanted it to stay that way. No reason to put the burdens on them.

  “Hello,” Emmett said.

  Joey jumped at his greeting. The man had snuck up right behind him and he never heard a thing.

  “I see you’re armed this time. We good?” Emmett kept a hand next to his waist.

  “Yeah.” If Joey thought he had any chance at beating Emmett on a draw, he might have been tempted.

  “Alright, let’s go.” Emmett stayed a step behind Joey as they trudged through Watchers Woods. The burnt forest made for an easy path to the stone. “You know how many Arracks were killed searching for you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Emmett kept his chest pointed at Joey as he sidestepped to the stone. “Simon sent them to every random stone location, most were not hospitable for life.”

  “Why did they keep doing it?”

  “I never figured it out. Marcus had them under his thumb.”

  “So, how many?”

  “Millions.”

  Joey was stunned by the number. They were little monsters, but they probably were sucked into a terrible situation and all they wanted to do was get back to their little silver kids and families. What a waste of life. “They must be pissed.”

  “That would be an accurate assessment.”

  The stone hummed.

  Watchers Woods became a brightly lit house, with darkness peering through the wall of glass. Several men in black MM uniforms surrounded the circle in the middle of what looked like a family room of a house. The house was a palace of opulence. It must have been a hotel. The towering ceiling reached at least fifty feet.

  “It was Marcus’s personal residence,” Emmett said.

  “Was?”

  “Yes. He’s gone, and left a huge mess behind.”

  The uniformed men relaxed a bit and stepped back from the circle. Joey let the awe of the house wear off quickly and counted the men. Seven of them, each a rank five or higher, three with rifles and four with handguns, surrounded the circle. Fifty feet to his left was the front door. Two more men stood next to it. Up the marble staircase, another four armed men stood. The extravagance of the house didn’t match the men dressed in black MM uniforms.