by Jacob Whaler
CHAPTER 91
Ryzaard rests comfortably, then jolts awake when he realizes it is too quiet. The inside of the cockpit is bathed in a silky silence. He unlatches the safety harness, stands up from his seat and stretches. Up ahead, the pilot stares down and to his left, mouth hanging open, frozen in the act of speaking into his mike.
“It has come,” Ryzaard says to himself.
Moving close to the window, he looks down, not expecting to see anything. But the mists have cleared and exposed the entire field of temple ruins to view from above.
Like the pilot, his mouth hangs open as he stares down.
Bodies clad in black armor lay strewn like litter on the ground. Even from this height, he can see the damage. Here and there, helmeted heads attached to bloody stumps lie separated from bodies, like marbles cast about by an unseen giant. Some bodies are intact, but their entrails are ripped out and left in long black strings on the grass.
Movement draws his eyes.
A mammoth black shape weaves in and out of the fallen walls and crumbled towers of the old temple. It attacks dead bodies, ripping arms from torsos, smashing skulls with rocks like walnuts.
So this is the Monkey with a Stone. Why all the fuss about a key? This will be too easy.
Ryzaard finds a spot on the ground hidden from the beast. Closing his eyes, he vanishes in a burst of white. When he opens his eyes again, he’s standing on the grass at the base of a wall. The top portion has long since fallen down. He peeks over it at the Monkey, feeding on a soldier’s severed leg ten meters away.
It grips a Stone in its right hand.
Reaching up to the leather harness on his chest, Ryzaard slips two Stones from their slots and holds them firmly, one in each hand. For an instant, he looks down, admiring their beauty and power. Then he moves from behind the wall so that he’s in full view of the beast.
“Hey big boy,” he says. “I have something even tastier over here.” He takes a wide stance with feet set a meter apart.
The Monkey looks up. Its bloodshot eyes reflect confusion, pain. And then anger.
Ryzaard waves his arms. “I am sorry, but your magic does not work on me.”
It grunts, casts away the half eaten leg and surges forward on all fours.
Ryzaard’s feet don’t move. He opens his arms wide in spread eagle fashion. A smile spreads across his lips.
When the beast is ten feet away, a blue arc of plasma bursts from the tip of each Stone and connects in the middle.
The beast stops and tilts its head, sniffing the air.
Ryzaard can hear its labored breathing. He sees the streaks of white in the dark hair. The large white scar on its forehead stands out, running past an eye and ending in a missing ear.
“You have had a tough life.” Ryzaard’s voice rises up in crescendo until he is yelling at the beast, taunting it. “Now it’s time to relieve you of your burdens.” Another long grin works its way across his face. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the key. You are not going to hold that against me, are you?”
One, two, three.
At the end of the count, Ryzaard lunges. A fountain of blue energy jumps out of the Stone in each hand and shoots forward.
As the beast flinches, a thin white sphere materializes around it, repelling the energy burst from Ryzaard’s Stones.
Ryzaard stops, steps back and tries again.
The same membrane of white light appears around the beast, protecting it from the attack. A low rumble grows within its belly until the sound erupts into an ear shattering scream.
Ryzaard stumbles backward, his shoulder blades against a crumbling wall.
This time, the Monkey lunges forward, arms outstretched, mouth gaping open, and crosses the ten feet separating it from Ryzaard in less than a heartbeat.
CHAPTER 92
In spite of the heat, a cold chill settles over Matt when he sees Ryzaard at the far end of the field.
And then the old man vanishes.
The beast crashes into the stone wall where Ryzaard stood and slumps to the bottom. With difficulty, it pulls itself back to its feet and scans the temple grounds, looking dazed and confused.
And then the beast crawls behind the wall and disappears from view.
Matt nods to himself. “Now I know why we need the key.”
“Was that Ryzaard?” Leo says. “The man who kidnapped Jessica?”
“Yep. Looks like he’s here.”
“Did you see that leather thing on his chest?”
“I did.” Matt pushes back a wall of panic. “It looked like three Stones to me.”
“What do we do?”
Matt shakes his head. “Leave immediately. You saw for yourself. He was dangerous enough with one Stone. Now he has three.”
“But there are two of us,” Leo says. “We can take him.”
Matt’s arm settles on the teenage boy’s shoulder. “He’s also got Jessica as a prisoner.” He tries to slow a rising pulse with careful breathing. “It’s too risky. If he manages to kill me, she’s as good as—”
“Don’t say it.” Leo says. “Everything will be all right.”
“How do you know?”
“Just a feeling.”
Matt turns with his back to the giant truck tire and slowly settles into a sitting position on the road. Yarah still clings to his chest like a baby panda on its mother.
“Let me think,” he mutters to himself.
Leo drops down next to Matt. “So, what do we do?”
“Did you hear what Ryzaard said just now?”
The boy’s eyes narrow. “Something about not having the key.”
“That’s what I thought. He knows about the key.”
“How?”
“No idea, but he wouldn’t have come here with a combat unit and four helicopters just for fun. He’s looking for something. Something important.”
“The key?”
A sudden realization hits Matt. “The Stones. He must know there’s more than one here.” Matt jumps up and looks out over the field again. His eyes fall on an outcropping of fallen walls on the far side beneath a high tower.
“Get your Stone out and hold on,” he says.
With his Stone in his hand, Leo stands up and presses his fingers against Matt’s shoulder. “Where we going?”
Matt doesn’t answer. The air flashes white.
When the light fades, they are standing on the open grass twenty feet from a jagged wall. A line of fallen soldiers is scattered on the ground behind them.
“Here we are. Looks like I overshot just a bit.”
They run to the wall and kneel down for cover.
“Start looking for the key,” Matt says. “It must be around here somewhere. I got a glimpse of it from the scroll. It’s an animal statue, a little larger than your hand. Maybe it looks like a monkey, but I’m not sure. I’ll keep an eye out for Ryzaard. If you see him, don’t jump away.”
“Why not?”
“He can follow your jumps. It happened to me once. Just stay with me. If we find him, grab your Stone and use it as a weapon. Like I showed you before. Our only chance is to fight him together.” Matt moves to the left along the wall, stepping around dead monkeys and fallen rocks. Half a minute later, the wall comes to an end. He kneels down close to the grass and peeks around the corner.
A man stands twenty feet away, frozen in position, his legs wide apart for stability and his arm pulled back, ready to throw a silver tube.
Matt mouths a single word.
“Dad.”
CHAPTER 93
Matt stumbles forward and stares down, throat suddenly tight.
Except for the color, his dad is like a bronze sculpture you might see on a World War II memorial, his chest thrust forward, arm pulled back, ready against all odds to launch a grenade far out onto the field at the approaching soldiers, a look of desperate defiance on his face.
For an instant, Matt stares into his dad’s eyes and sees him, not as a father, but simply as a man, prepared
to die, but fighting to the last, facing the enemy that seeks to kill him and his son, prepared to give his own life.
The same man that risked his life, without the crutch of a Stone, to rescue Matt while he was Ryzaard’s prisoner at MX Global.
A blast of emotion exposes a residual core of resentment and anger Matt has held toward his dad, built up during the years they were on the run together, unable to live a normal life, in constant fear of discovery and death.
It weakens, falters, and crumbles into dust, like an old building shot through with too many holes, no longer relevant, swept away by a strong wind.
In its wake, Matt is overcome with respect and admiration for his dad. Something in the firm set jaw of the statue-like figure brings sudden understanding. And love.
With trembling fingers, Matt reaches out and touches his dad’s shoulder. A yearning pulls him forward, and he finds himself embracing his stiff dad, little Yarah still clinging to Matt and sandwiched between them.
Without thought or effort, Matt’s lips begin to move. Words find their way to the surface past the lump in his throat. “I love you, dad. Always have. Always will.”
Leo looks on, not saying a word.
When Matt finally steps back, he looks in the same direction as his dad’s eyes to understand the last thing he saw before the time came to a stop. A couple of meters from his dad’s chest, there’s the faint discharge of flash powder and a cloud of black needles suspended in air. The severed arm of a soldier is strewn on the ground a few feet away. A disemboweled body lies beyond that, still wearing battle armor.
Leo steps forward. “This is your dad?”
“Yeah,” Matt says. “My dad.” He wipes the tear stains from his face with the back of a hand.
“No way.”
“Yes way,” Matt says. “I’m as surprised as you are. We have to move him to the right. He’s about to be shot.”
Together, they steady his dad’s body and ease him to the side. Matt is surprised at how light he feels.
“What’s that silver tube he’s about to throw?” Leo says.
“Knowing my dad, it’s some kind of weapon.” Matt reaches up and slips it out of his dad’s hand. “We don’t want to attract Ryzaard’s attention when we return to normal time.”
Another man is standing a few feet behind in an open space between the walls.
“Who’s that?” Leo says.
Matt shrugs his shoulders. “No idea.” He moves closer to the tall man and looks up into his sunglasses. Something doesn’t seem quite right. Then he walks to the side and peeks behind them.
“Holy crap.”
Leo jumps to Matt’s side and grabs his shirt. “What is it?”
“This man has no eyes.”
They both stand in wonder at the tall figure, face frozen with his mouth open and lips peeled back, stopped in the act of yelling.
The tension in the air begins to melt away. Yarah’s body pulls on his chest.
Then he remembers the dark cloud of needles a few feet from Leo.
Without a word, Matt dives for Leo and pulls him down.
The cloud rips past Leo’s ear. One of the fragments grazes his neck and leaves a scratch but draws no blood. The needles slam into the rock wall behind them and disintegrate into a puff of gray smoke.
Matt lands on his back and rolls to a stop.
“Watch out!” The voice comes from the tall man with the sunglasses.
Matt’s dad stumbles forward, pulled down by his throwing arm. His gaze goes up to his empty hand, then out at the open field.
The soldier with the flechette rifle has a stunned look in his eye. He stumbles backward, turns and flees.
Fifty meters away, soldiers lie scattered and strewn in a line, like ragdolls ravaged by a pack of wolves.
Matt’s dad twists around and faces the tall man. “What the hell’s going—”
Three loud explosions shake the ground. A shockwave of scorching heat, carrying a cloud of dust and metal particles, moves over the wall above their heads and out into the field past the fallen soldiers.
Matt is on the grass tangled up with Leo and Yarah. He looks up to see his dad’s face, mouth gaping open.
“Hey Dad.” Matt stands up and can’t suppress a wide grin. “Nice of you to show up.”
CHAPTER 94
Back in the helicopter cockpit, Ryzaard slumps down in the seat, breathing heavily.
How has the beast learned to use the Stone?
It looks like this job will have to be done the old-fashioned way.
He reaches into a bag at his feet and pulls out one of his darlings. The Heckler & Koch .45 caliber pistol. It feels good in his hand. Over eighty years old, it might be considered a mere antique pistol now, but through long years of use and careful cleaning, it still functions like a charm.
The Monkey will tire soon, its rage played out.
That’s when Ryzaard will pounce with the HK45.
He lets go of the present, making sure that he is doing nothing to hold the flow of time back, leaving the full burden of that upon the mighty Monkey with the Stone. Eyeing the Null Box that lies a few feet away, he puts his feet up on it and relaxes.
It’s just a matter of time before he engages it and neutralizes the beast’s Stone. Then it will be a simple matter to put it out of its misery.
And collect the other Stones in the area.
Sinking into his seat in the back of the helicopter, he calmly pulls the shoulder straps down and over his head until the clip snaps into place.
Tension flows out of the air.
Far below, three choppers lie on the grass, tipped over on their sides like sick pigs. At the instant time begins to flow, their massive black rotors jump to life and throw up clouds of dirt and grass before exploding into balls of fire and smoke that peel away from the ground and travel up past Ryzaard’s line of sight.
A wave of heat and dust, mixed with shards of metal and glass, blasts past the helicopter.
“What the hell!” The pilot pulls back hard on the stick and the nose of the helicopter shoots up until it’s almost vertical. The shockwaves slam into its underbelly, causing it to lose lift and drop to the ground.
Five meters before impact, the pilot rights the machine, engages the throttle and flies it up and away. He twists around and faces Ryzaard. “Sir, we have to get out of here before whatever is down there gets us too.”
“Don’t worry,” Ryzaard says. “The situation is under control. Set the bird down.”
“Sir?”
Ryzaard calmly looks at the pilot. “You heard me. Set us down on the ground.”
Thick overhead clouds move apart. The sun bleeds through, bathing the field in a yellow glow. Random bodies in black armor litter the grass. Colored umbrellas dot the ground, open and discarded, next to the crumpled bodies of a dozen tourists.
The pilot looks down on the grass, then back at Ryzaard. “What’s going on here? All the men are down. Nothing’s moving.”
“Yes,” Ryzaard says. “There’s been a slight disruption of plans.”
“Slight disruption?” The pilot stares down to his left. “They’re all torn to pieces down there.” He looks from side to side. “I don’t like the feel of this. With all due respect, sir, we have to abandon this mission and return to base.”
The pilot moves the joystick to the right, and the helicopter starts to bank away.
Ryzaard leans forward and presses the barrel of his HK45 against the exposed neck of the pilot. “We’re not going anywhere. Set us down on the ground.”
“But sir, something’s on the loose down there.”
“Put the bird down or I will kill you this instant.”
The pilot swallows and sets the helicopter down on the grass.
Still keeping the pistol pressed against the pilot’s neck, Ryzaard touches the Null Box in the middle of the cargo bay. Red diagonal lines on its surface soften and fade, replaced by distinct horizontal green ones.
“Don’t go a
nywhere, understand?”
“Yes, sir. But what about the fugitives?”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’re dead along with everyone else.” Ryzaard pulls away the pistol and steps out onto the grass.
Let’s see how the Monkey reacts when its Stone no longer works.
He moves to a rock wall, gun in hand, stepping over dead soldiers and body parts.
CHAPTER 95
Kent sits down and puts both hands on his chest, breathing hard, trying not to hyperventilate.
Jake stares back and forth between Kent and the young man with the two kids. Then he walks forward and sticks his hand out. “So you’re Kent’s son. I’ve heard a lot about you. Pleasure to meet you in the flesh.”
Matt takes the hand, but his eyes stay on his dad.
Without a word, Kent stands up and wraps both arms around his son, pulling Matt close for a long hug. Then he sits back down and looks up. “Little John was right. His clues led us right to you.”
“Little John?” Matt says.
Kent waves away the question. “I’ll tell you later. What brought you here?”
“Trying to get one of the Stones before Ryzaard does,” Matt says. “Looks like Ryzaard got here first.”
“We did.” Kent’s eyes move to the man with the aviator sunglasses. “By the way, this is my friend, Jake. He’s saved my life more than once, and told me quite a bit about the Stones. Incredible stuff.”
“Good to meet you Jake.” Matt has a weary look on his face. “Nice shades. On a rainy day.”
Kent understands the meaning behind the words. “So you saw his eyes?”
“Not exactly,” Matt says.
Kent pats Jake on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. He’s harmless. And he can see, just in a different way. It’s a long story, but definitely one you’ll want to hear.” He looks over at the boy and little girl standing behind Matt. “And who is this?”
Matt pulls Leo forward. “Meet Leo. From Brazil.”
Leo’s eyes stay on the ground. “Actually Boston.”
“He’s a great kid and he has a Stone.” Matt laughs.
Kent rubs the boy’s head. “Thanks for taking care of my son.”
