by Jacob Whaler
The Japanese man pinned under the chair closes his eyes and goes still. One hand is gripping a glowing rock. Kent instantly recognizes that the man is doing some sort of meditation. As the man opens his eyes, his free hand grasps the bottom of the chair. With a heave, he throws it off and into the wallscreen three meters away.
A long section of the screen shatters. Sparks, broken glass and black smoke fly across the room.
The Japanese man looks exhausted and injured. With one hand supporting his lower back, he struggles to his feet while the man in the tweed jacket pulls himself up to a sitting position not far away and faces in Kent’s direction.
Squinting through his goggles, Kent recognizes the face of Mikal Ryzaard, the newly minted President and CEO of MX SciFin.
As Kent stares at the two men, he notices that each of them holds a rock in their hands, and each of them quickly moves away from a metallic cube in the center of the room.
Ryzaard grasps his rock like the handle of a knight’s sword. A blue line of intense brilliance ascends up from the rock’s tip. It forms into a long curve like a scimitar and flattens into a thin, wide blade of variable length that seems to grow or shrink at Ryzaard’s whim. For the moment, it’s two meters long.
Amazing technology, Kent thinks.
“Do you really think you can kill me?” the Japanese man says. A blade shoots out of his own rock in the distinct shape of a samurai katana sword, and he lets it drop low to his side. As he teeters back and forth on his feet, his arms extend outward for added balance. Beads of sweat dance on his forehead.
Ryzaard ignores the question and lunges forward, swinging his energy blade down over the head of the Shinto priest. The priest lifts up his Stone and its blade in a twisting motion that deflects Ryzaard’s blow to the floor a split second before it would have sliced his forehead in two. A shower of glowing metal shards explode at their feet as both energy beams bite into the floor and leave long gashes.
Must be a new weapon developed by MX Global.
Kent slides along the wall, keeping an eye on Matt and Jessica on the edge of the rug. They still haven’t moved.
Maybe they’re dead.
With that thought, a huge weight presses on Kent’s chest, squeezing the life out of his lungs. He struggles to breathe. The world around him falls away. Heat drains out of his fingers and toes, arms and legs, leaving him alone and cold.
And then Matt rolls over onto his back and opens his eyes.
Still alive!
Kent wants to rush forward and engulf his son in his arms, but holds back, not wishing to attract Ryzaard’s attention and do anything that might further endanger Matt.
Jessica is still slumped over, her long hair and arms streaked with dark blood.
Sidestepping along the floor with his heels to the wall, Kent inches closer, trying to get a better look at their faces as the other two men fight behind him with their laser-like weapons.
Jessica moves her hands and lifts an arm. She’s alive too.
When Kent gets within a few feet, nothing prepares him for the onrush of emotion as he looks into their faces. Warmth washes over him, bringing life back to his fingers and hands.
Matt and Jessica.
His heart seems to stop beating for an eternity.
When it starts again, he moves his lips, trying to speak. All that comes from his throat is a dry rasping sound. Finally he manages to force out a single word.
“Son.”
Memories of eavesdropped conversations from the office next door bombard Kent’s brain. He hears Ryzaard’s voice stating a clear intent to kill Matt. As Kent looks down at the bruises and blood on his son’s arms and legs, his hands curl into fists, and he slowly turns to see the old man in a tattered tweed jacket fighting the Shinto priest. The warmth he felt at seeing Matt turns to a fever. His face flushes with rage.
The image of his wife’s car, flattened and destroyed by a truck transport, unfolds like a deadly flower in his mind. Anger surges through his body. He feels the urge to jump to his feet and drop a MEPPs explosive down Ryzaard’s shirt and thrust the dagger into his back.
Before thoughts turn to action, Kent draws in a deep breath and calms himself. Bursts of light from the two men fighting in the darkness bring him back to the reality of Matt sitting only a couple of feet away. There isn’t much time. He pulls himself together and, with trembling hands and legs, kneels down in front of Matt, puts his hands on Matt’s face and carefully lifts Matt’s head up.
Kent stares into his son’s eyes. “Matt.” His voice is little more than a whisper. “What has Ryzaard done to you?” His eyes drop down to Matt’s ankles and wrists, lashed together with zip ties. He brings out the dagger.
Matt’s eyes open wide and then squint, but he doesn’t say anything.
Snatches of blue light dance off the blade in Kent’s hand from the fight going on at the other end of the room.
“Hold still,” Kent says. The knife slices through the zip ties with surprising ease.
The instant his wrists and ankles are free, Matt springs upon Kent like a wild jaguar, knocking him back onto the floor. In the darkness, his hands find and close around Kent’s neck.
Kent remembers that his son probably can’t see anything in the dark. “Matt,” he whispers. The fingers around his throat are tight, squeezing hard. He can barely get the words out. “It’s me. Your dad.”
Matt stops. His fingers peel away. Eyes narrowing to tiny slits, he pulls his dad’s face closer and slowly searches the forehead, nose, mouth and chin. His eyes open wide with recognition and a look of utter disbelief.
“Dad,” Matt says. “How did you…” The words catch in his throat. With strong arms, he grabs his dad’s shoulders and pulls him close.
Their foreheads meet and touch.
Hot tears run down Kent’s cheeks.
Matt’s body shakes with pulsing tremors. Kent’s arms reach up and wrap around his son in a tight embrace. His hand finds the back of his son’s head and strokes it gently through the thick hair.
Pulling Matt’s ear down to his mouth, Kent whispers. “I’m going to get you out of here.”
As if struck by a sudden thought, Matt swings around to his side, finds Jessica and lifts her upper body.
Her arms fall limply to the floor.
Matt bends close to her face. “Still breathing.” His fingers grope for a pulse on her neck. With a nod, he turns back to Kent. “She’s alive. We have to get—” Matt cuts his sentence short and stares down at the floor.
Kent follows Matt’s eyes and sees it too. The light glints off a miniature box on the floor a few feet away.
Matt lunges past his dad, reaching for it and cupping it in both hands. Kneeling down, Matt gently opens the lid, plunges his fingers in and pulls out a curved rock, just like the ones Ryzaard and the Japanese man have in their hands.
And it’s glowing neon white.
CHAPTER 110
With the Stone in his hand, Matt’s head turns to the far end of the room near the door where Naganuma and Ryzaard are dueling in what looks like a struggle to the death. Smoke swirls around them, barely visible in the unstable light of their laser swords. The sofas and table lay smoldering and broken in pieces.
“Stay with Jess,” Matt yells to his father. “I’ll be right back.”
“What are you—”
Matt turns before his dad can finish the sentence and moves closer to the opposite end of the room with his eyes on the two fighting men.
Naganuma presses in near to Ryzaard, Shinto robes flying wide, visibly limping, body bent in obvious fatigue, swinging his samurai blade forward. Ryzaard jumps back and meets the oncoming blow with a cross of his curved light. The two forms come together, each pushing with both hands on their Stones, the two blades sliding back and forth between them within inches of their faces.
Burnt ozone hangs heavy in the air.
Suddenly withdrawing, Naganuma drops low to the ground as Ryzaard stumbles forward and past h
im. With a twisting backward kick of his leg, Naganuma sends Ryzaard sprawling headlong across the floor and pounces on him, placing the heel of his foot squarely in the small of Ryzaard’s back, pinning him to the floor. Sweat pours off Naganuma’s face, and his belly heaves in and out. The tip of his plasma blade points down, floating in the air inches above Ryzaard’s neck.
Helpless under the weight of Naganuma’s foot, Ryzaard lays on the floor, arms spread out. With the Stone in his hand, the blade of his sword grows thinner and thinner, until it fades into the darkness.
The Shinto priest raises his Stone high above his head, closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, standing still as a statue. Then his eyes open, and he slowly brings a curved line of cool blue light down above Ryzaard’s head.
Matt watches from a few feet away.
Another death.
Before he realizes what he’s doing, a jagged filament of energy jumps out of Matt’s Stone and blocks Naganuma’s blade only inches from its target.
“No,” Matt says. “There’s been enough killing for one day. It must stop.” He withdraws the energy back into his Stone and bows deeply.
Naganuma pushes his foot harder into Ryzaard’s back and shakes his head. “You don’t understand how dangerous he is. Allow him to live, and there will be no end to the people he murders. He is not worthy of our mercy.” Drawing his Stone back to waist level, the energy blade rises straight up, inches away from his own nose and between his eyes, giving the priest’s face an eerie glow.
“Sensei, there’s a lot I don’t understand.” Matt casts his eyes down on Ryzaard. “But I know that his way, the way of hatred and power and killing, is not the right way. It’s not the way of the Allehonen.”
“So, you have made your choice. You have chosen to follow the White Ones.”
“Yes.”
Naganuma stands still, as if considering Matt’s words. The light slowly recedes back into his Stone. “So be it. If we allow him to live, he will hunt us until either he or we are destroyed.”
“Yes, I know.”
“His rage will drive him to strip you of everything you love, everything you hold dear, until you are left empty and alone.”
“I understand.”
“And you still wish to release him?”
Matt closes his eyes and thinks of his mother. In his mind’s eye, her gentle face is looking down at him on that day at the beach. Then he thinks of Jessica, lying on the floor at the other end of the room. Her words echo through his mind.
Perfect love casteth out fear.
“I’m not afraid.”
“I hope you don’t regret this.” Naganuma steps back, pulling his foot off Ryzaard.
As his breath flows in and out, the small of Ryzaard’s back moves up and down. He slowly lifts himself, gets to his knees and looks up at Matt.
“Very charitable of you, my young friend,” Ryzaard says. “I can assure you I won’t forget this.”
Naganuma takes another step back and turns to Matt. “Don’t be fooled. Even now, he is trying to jump away from here and it takes all my concentration to hold him back. Leave now while I have him under my control. Take Jessica. Heal her wounds.” He squints in the darkness at the bright red patch on Matt’s chest. “And your own. Get far away. Hide your Stone. I will find you later.”
Matt bows once again and turns to leave.
“Matt-kun,” Naganuma says.
Matt stops and looks back.
“Forgive me for betraying you. My trust in Ryzaard was a mistake. I did not intend for you to be hurt. I thought I could control him.” He bows deeply and slowly.
In the dim light coming from the open door, Matt smiles in acknowledgment and returns the bow.
The next instant, a horde of dark-clad men rush through the open door into the room. Like moving shadows, they swarm around Naganuma. It’s not clear whether they have come to fight him or protect him. As he whips around to get a look at them, he teeters back and forth, caught off balance. They fill in the space between him and Ryzaard.
A pulse of bright light explodes out of Ryzaard’s Stone. A jagged line pierces through the bodies of two of the black figures as it snakes forward on its way to Naganuma. They fall backward into him.
An instant later, an energy blade jumps out of Naganuma’s Stone. He brings it close to his body to intercept the blow, trying to avoid injury to the figures in black. In the confusion of moving bodies, he stumbles backward.
Leaning in, Ryzaard opens his mouth wide to yell and thrusts his arms forward. A shimmering green sphere the size of a golf ball explodes out the tip of his Stone. The force of the blast sends him reeling backward. There’s an audible bump as his head makes contact with the wall, and he collapses in a heap.
In what feels like a slow-motion scene, a ribbon of energy leaps from Matt’s Stone to intercept Ryzaard’s projectile, but Matt watches in horror as the sphere shatters the barrier and buries itself in the left side of Naganuma’s chest, bursting out in an explosion of blood between his shoulder blades.
Naganuma drops to his knees, a hand going up to his heart. The other hand reaches for Matt’s head and pulls his ear down to Naganuma’s lips. “The Stones,” he says, “you must protect the other Stones.
“What Stones?”
“Ryzaard knows. Protect the world from him. If he gets the others, all is lost. He’ll destroy everything.”
A multitude of questions flash through Matt’s head.
How many other Stones are there? Where are they hidden?
“How can I find them?”
Naganuma is fading fast. Matt can see the life draining out of his face. He struggles to speak. His lips move, slowly and deliberately.
“There is a small leather book filled with my notes,” he says.
“Where?”
In the dim light, Ryzaard regains his feet and charges forward. Black ninjas standing between him and Naganuma are cut down by jagged laser beams and fall away. As Matt looks up from the old priest, Ryzaard lunges again, catching Naganuma on the other side of his chest with a barrage of small bullet-like pulses of energy.
Naganuma’s head rolls back and stares up. “Take my Stone. Remember.” He struggles to say more, and then his jaw goes slack and the remainder of his life drains away. His hand falls to the floor, fingers open. The Stone rolls away. Matt reaches for it, but before he can touch it, a foot kicks it into the darkness, out of sight.
Another swarm of black figures moves around Matt and pushes him back.
Ryzaard stands above Naganuma and methodically pumps shots of energy into the priest’s body. He swings his Stone with abandon, spraying green dots around the room. Lifeless bodies fall to the floor.
And then the overhead lights flicker on.
Matt looks up to see Ryzaard breathing hard, Stone in hand, splattered in scarlet, surrounded by a mass of broken humanity. The old man’s face turns to the other end of the room where Jessica is still on the floor.
Following his gaze, Matt locks eyes with his dad.
“Son!” Kent yells. “We have to leave. Now!”
There’s a look of surprise on Ryzaard’s face. He grins and disappears, reappearing a split second later at the other end of the room, towering over Jessica and Kent, his energy blade burning brightly.
Matt fights through a sea of swarming black bodies between him and Jessica. His downward glance catches sight of Naganuma’s Stone laying on the floor next to his feet. Matt lunges for it, but a black shoe knocks it away.
He turns his head to see Ryzaard, still standing over Jessica and his dad.
Ryzaard raises his head and glances back across the room, through the swirling currents of black bodies. He finds Matt’s eyes.
A voice plays inside Matt’s head.
Everything you love. Everything you hold dear.
Lifting his arms, Ryzaard points his Stone at the ceiling. A spiral of twisting green plasma rises out of it.
He glances down at Jessica and Kent and lets the blad
e fall.
CHAPTER 111
“Video feed from the Children!” the tall man yells. “We finally got it through.”
Little John rushes to stand in front of the tiny bluescreen on the mini-fridge inside the tent. He stares at the jerky images. “What’s going on? I can’t see anything!”
“It’s coming off a mini-cam on Smith’s forehead.” The tall man picks up a slate and taps his fingers across its surface. “I’ll try to filter out the shakiness.” The blurry image comes into focus.
“I don’t believe it.” Little John stares, mouth open, at a morass of bodies inside a round room. The walls are covered with shattered glass, the remnants of a massive bluescreen. Black smoke floats at eye level like a miniature thunderstorm. Piles of black corpses and severed limbs are strewn on the floor in the foreground. Behind them, a man in a shredded white robe lies face down on the floor, a large bloodstain soaking through the cloth on his back. Broken fragments of a sofa and a table are scattered everywhere. Two dental chairs are upside down, leaning against the wall.
A young man in a T-shirt stands up from the floor in the middle of the room.
“Who is that?” Little John grabs a headset off the top of the bluescreen. “Find our man!” he shouts into it. “Get him out of there alive. I don’t care about Ryzaard.”
A breathless voice crackles through speakers on the glass panel. “We’re trying,” it says. “Can’t get close. Some sort of laser.”
Little John stares at the image on the far end of the room. “Magnify background!”
The screen zooms in on Ryzaard in a ripped tweed jacket standing over another man kneeling next to a girl. Little John recognizes the back of the kneeling man’s head. Ryzaard holds a claw-shaped rock in both hands above him. A line of green light pulsates out of it.
“What the hell?” Little John’s eyes grow big as he stares at the rock in Ryzaard’s hand. “Where did he get that?”
Ryzaard teeters on his feet, and then swings the green line down like a club above the heads of the man and the girl.
