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Stones: Experiment (Stones #3)

Page 33

by Jacob Whaler


  Matt surges forward again, appearing at Yarah’s side, a thick wall of energy separating them. Trying repeatedly to ram his fists through the barrier, Matt watches as Yarah’s face pales. She turns to him and opens her eyes and mouth wide, as if trying to say her final words. Then her eyes shut.

  The fury inside Matt surges past the boiling point. Reaching out for the present moment, he relaxes and holds it. Time stops. A subtle phase shift causes the air to take on a golden tint and became almost tangible.

  Yarah’s body freezes with her mouth open and her fingers still reaching for her throat.

  “No matter.” Ryzaard’s face has an utter lack of concern. “You can’t hold it forever. She’ll be dead within seconds after you let go. As always, her death will be on your hands.”

  The rage flows back into Matt. Dropping his head like a football player preparing to make a tackle, he jumps to his feet and thrusts his body forward, glowing arms splayed out. An arc of green energy bursts from his Stone. As it spreads out in front of him, Matt pours all his venom and hate into it.

  The leading edge of the arc hits Ryzaard’s protective bubble and dissipates like foam hitting concrete. Matt slams into the energy barrier a split second later and tries to take it and Ryzaard down. At the instant of impact, the thin blue layer enveloping his body ignites in a burst of flames. A scream tears from his throat as he lets go and slumps at the feet of the old man.

  “Have you ever wanted to have the power of six Stones surging through you? Now you can.”

  Burying the toe of his shoe in Matt’s side, Ryzaard lifts Matt in an arc that sends him flying back into the water. It flashes to steam where he lands in the sea. Ripples of pain sweep over his skin. Fighting back the nausea, he barely manages to keep his hold on time.

  Yarah is still frozen inside the bubble.

  The pain in Matt’s side subsides only when he fights it back with a cooling flow of black plasma on his body that makes him nearly invisible against the dark night. He stands up in the ocean.

  Ryzaard walks to the water’s edge. “When are you going to learn that you can’t stop me? You may be able to protect yourself, for a time. But everything and everyone you love will be destroyed.” He looks back at Yarah, unmoving, her suffering caught as if in an ancient snapshot.

  Love, Matt thinks. It’s the only way I can fight him.

  Remembering the battle with Jhata, Matt slows the blazing fire of anger burning in his belly. Deep breathing replaces quick, furtive sips of air. His heartbeat slows. The tempest calms. The rage withdraws, like poison venom slowly draining out of his body.

  Yarah had been inside Ryzaard’s mind, had seen and felt his memories. Recalling his conversation with her, Matt focuses his mind on Ryzaard as a young boy, speaking his thoughts so the old man can hear.

  “You grew up in Krakow, Poland.” Matt takes a step forward. “Your father was a diamond merchant in the Jewish quarter.”

  Ryzaard cocks his head to the side. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but your babbling won’t help you or her.”

  “Your father was a good man. You worshiped him. You and your sister had an idyllic life because of him. Servants. Travel all over Europe. Boarding School in England. A mother that loved you dearly.”

  The old man clenches his jaw. “Leave my mother out of this.” He presses his knuckles together and takes another step forward.

  “You were her pride and joy.” Matt sees a small boy, dark eyes and hair, coming home from school, bursting through the front door, finding his mother and giving her a hug.

  “Stop!” A swirling ball of energy forms between Ryzaard’s hands. He opens his palms, and it rips away at Matt.

  Matt steps out of the water. “You would have done anything for her.”

  The energy ball hits Matt squarely in the chest, exploding against the layer of blue energy floating above his skin armor. This time, it only causes a twinge of pain.

  The energy layer engulfing Matt changes to white.

  Ryzaard shoots another blast of energy out of his hands and stumbles backwards.

  “I had a mother, too.” Matt calmly walks forward and reaches out. Warmth, affection and confidence flow through him. His hands slide through the protective layer on the old man and grasp the lapels of his tweed jacket, lifting him off his feet. “But the world killed my mother, just like it killed yours.”

  Glancing down in disbelief, Ryzaard sees one of Matt’s hands work its way up his chest until his fingers wrap snugly around his throat. Ryzaard closes his own hands into fists and draws upon the power of his six Stones. On the ground behind Matt, the green globe glows brightly. The old man’s fists take on the same green color as balls of energy form on them. He rams them against Matt’s chest.

  For an instant, Matt’s protective bubble changes from white to willow green.

  The agony of a thousand razor blades digs into his skin. He ignores it. “I understand your pain.” He stares into Ryzaard’s eyes.

  “No! You can’t understand.” Ryzaard clenches his jaw. “No one can understand.”

  The balls of energy explode out from Ryzaard’s hands, flinging his body back onto the sand.

  Matt hears the shattering of glass behind him. Turning, he sees the broken globe beside Yarah. He stomps on the fragments and grinds them into the sand. The energy sphere vanishes, leaving Yarah free.

  Matt relaxes his grip on time.

  Six Stones lie scattered on the beach.

  Matt walks five paces to Ryzaard and kneels beside him. Placing the tip of his Stone on Ryzaard’s chest, Matt grips it with both hands, pushing back the hatred that threatens to rise up.

  “It ends here,” Matt says. “For the good of the world, I have to do this.”

  CHAPTER 82

  Jhata feels the scream before she hears it.

  As the final fragments of Yarah’s destroyed world stream past her fingertips, the little girl’s cry of agony hits Jhata’s mind like a tsunami.

  In nanoseconds, Jhata turns and locks onto the location, seeing it on a 3-D map in her mind’s eye, multiple galaxies away. The message is loud and clear.

  Yarah is with Matt. On his planet. About to die.

  Gripping a Stone in each hand, she relaxes and makes the jump. Seconds later, she’s floating above the world.

  The first thing she notices is the horizontal bands. Half as large as Yarah’s planet, but more dense, this world has a single thin chain of snowcapped mountains that springs out of its upper icecap and swirls around the planet like a python snake ten or fifteen times before diving back under at the ice cap on bottom. On either side of the mountain range, a thin fringe of lush green spreads out from the base and extends to the turquoise blue water that fills in the gaps.

  It’s all mountains, jungle, beaches and ocean.

  Matt’s playground.

  A unique world that calls for a unique way of destruction.

  Drawing her two Stones out in front, a thin red line proceeds out from each one and pulls identical threads of light out of the other Stones on her belt like spider’s silk.

  Coming together in a beautiful weave, a braid of light shoots to the planet’s north pole where it breaks into two ribbons of energy, one on each side of the mountain range. The two red bands run in parallel along the base of the range, following its spiral around the planet until ending in a point at the southern pole.

  As Jhata gazes at the red lines, she feeds the anger and contempt for Matt until her fists are clenched in fits of rage. All of it builds up to a crescendo that she funnels into the Stones.

  Beginning at the southern pole and working north like a string of falling dominos, the red lines explode, opening wide gashes in the planet’s outer skin and sending shockwaves deep into its core. Magma pours out of open wounds onto the surface. Bedrock shatters under the mountains, and they are pulled into the fiery depths of the world’s interior. Moving with astonishing speed, kilometer after kilometer of the spiraling mountain range sinks below the surface,
unleashing tidal waves of molten rock that flow over the delicate jungle and white sand beaches into the ocean. Massive columns of steam rise in the atmosphere.

  This is Jhata’s answer to Yarah’s call for help.

  Hanging in space above the world, a skin of cool blue energy enveloping her body, she folds her arms across her chest and stares in triumph at Matt’s world as it bleeds to death.

  CHAPTER 83

  The end at last.

  Moving as quickly and efficiently as he can, Matt raises his Stone above his head with both hands. For an instant, he looks into Ryzaard’s face, searching in vain for any sign of recognition in the glazed-over eyes.

  His pulse jumps as he brings the tip down like a dagger above Ryzaard’s chest.

  Before he makes contact, the ground twists out from under him. The Stone embeds itself in the sand inches from Ryzaard’s heart, and Matt is thrown on his belly beside the old man.

  Getting back up on his knees, the high-pitched scream of exploding plasma pulls his gaze over his right shoulder. His eye runs along the majestic range of perfectly formed peaks all the way to the horizon, a hundred kilometers away. Their snow-covered slopes, illuminated by the full moon, reflect an unearthly orange glow.

  As he stares in disbelief, the farthest mountain tops wobble, crumble and fall out of sight.

  Instinctively, he jumps to his feet for a better view.

  Blue flames from plasma explosions are plainly visible, reaching a height of kilometers above the surface. And they are rushing toward him, like an immense fuse burning at the base of the mountains. In the wake of the explosions, a river of fire and magma open up, as though a wide swath of the planet’s mantle has simply vanished.

  The raw interior of the planet lies exposed like a fresh wound, and the entire mountain range is pulled into it, the rocky peaks sucked down into fire and magma.

  And it’s all moving this way. Fast.

  Matt rushes to Yarah’s side and kneels. Looking into her ashen face and moving his fingers along her neck, he isn’t sure she even has a pulse. Either way, there’s no time to heal her. He scoops her up in his arms and turns to look at the base of the mountains only a couple of kilometers away.

  Ryzaard is gone.

  A tongue of exploding orange gas shoots skyward, blocking out their jagged shape. At the same time, the sand underneath him is hit by a violent shockwave.

  It turns to liquid and falls away.

  Holding onto Yarah, Matt drops into a yawning gap before landing on his back with Yarah on top. He throws a protective field of pulsating green energy around both of them moments before superheated hot air surges over the top of his head.

  A wave of molten lava rises up on the left, matched in size by a massive ocean tsunami on his right. As he raises his eyes and stares up, the leading edges of both waves touch in a delicate arch a hundred meters above his head. Steam and heat explode. Water and lava rain on him and Yarah, repelled by the protective field.

  Time to jump away.

  He thinks of the first place that comes to mind, reaches out and grasps it.

  Just before jumping away, movement catches Matt’s eye.

  Not far away, Ryzaard lies on the ground, clothes on fire, floating in a pool of liquid rock. Chunks of flesh slump off his body. He reaches out trembling arms with exposed bone and raw tendons tight as cables. A steely stare bores through the whites of his eyes. His lips struggle to form a single word.

  “No.”

  CHAPTER 84

  Silence on the bridge of the sub.

  “What’s our current position?” Jessica says.

  “Halfway to the east coast of Hokkaido.” A crew member to her left stares into a small green screen.

  Jessica folds her arms. “What about fuel?”

  “We’ve got enough to make it to Japan, with a small margin of error.”

  “And the West Coast of the U.S.?” Jessica looks at the other faces on the bridge. “Can we make it to any point there?”

  The crew member moves closer to the tiny screen. “With the right currents and a little luck, we might be able to make it to Cape Mendocino on the coast of California. But it would be a one way trip. There’s no place to refuel within five hundred miles.”

  “And Hawaii?”

  “Too far south.” The crew member shakes his head. “We’d run out of fuel and be a thousand miles short.”

  Jessica fingers the walrus tooth hanging from the necklace on her neck. All eyes turn to her.

  “So what’s it going to be?” The captain leans back in his chair behind Jessica, making a loud creaking sound. “Japan or California?”

  “Keep your current course.” Jessica gets up from her chair and walks to the back of the bridge. “Captain, can we talk in private?”

  As she walks by, the captain turns his head. “Meet you in the Mess in five.”

  Eva stands and follows Jessica out the door.

  Five minutes later, all three of them sit in cramped quarters at the small table. Since the room is only built for two at a time, the captain has to open the door and let one leg extend outside.

  Eva pulls some crackers from an overhead cabinet, spreading them out on the table for everyone.

  “I need more information.” Jessica looks at both the captain and Eva.

  “About what?”

  Jessica reaches for a cracker. “The freedom camps. The whole movement started by Little John. How it’s all structured.”

  “Structured?” The captain laughs and shakes his head. “You must not have known Little John. There’s not much in the way of structure.”

  Eva leans forward, her dark eyes flashing. “He wanted it that way. Remember, we don’t even know what Abomination is. All Little John said was that it would start out as some kind of technology. He wasn’t sure where it would come from or when it would appear. Or what forces would unleash it.”

  “So,” Jessica picks up a cracker. “He left the organization loose to allow it to adapt to whatever was coming.”

  Eva nods. “Right.”

  “But there still has to be a structure in place.” Jessica chews slowly. “Communication lines, decision makers, a hierarchy of some sort.”

  Eva and the captain look at each other. He nods at her, as if telling her to speak.

  “The first leader was Little John.” Eva motions toward Jessica’s walrus tooth. “When he was gone, Aanak took over. And now—”

  “They both had Stones. But I don’t.”

  The captain twists his neck and pops a vertebra. “But you know someone who does. You’re close to him. And Aanak chose you.”

  “Beyond that, each freedom camp chooses its own local leaders and organizes itself. Some have a single man or woman in charge. Others have a council of leaders.” Eva swallows her cracker and gets another one. “Everyone in the camp specializes. Some gather food. Others provide security. Then there are the Children.”

  “The Children?” Jessica notices the special stress that Eva puts on the word.

  Smiling again, the captain licks his lips. “The ones in charge of communication and technology. Yes, technology. Mostly young. I guess that’s why Little John called them Children.”

  “Now I’m confused,” Jessica says. “I thought the whole point of the freedom camps was to avoid technology. Isn’t that what Abomination is?”

  “Little John didn’t want us turning into a bunch of isolated dimwits. So he established a core group of young people to stay up to date on tech matters, and scattered them throughout the camps.” The captain opens his arms. “That’s why we have this sub. And other stuff.”

  “Do they have jaxes?”

  “Some do,” Eva says. “You have to be able to fight fire with fire.”

  “Now I have a question for you.” The captain stares directly at Jessica. “Assuming the new leader comes back, this boyfriend of yours—”

  “His name is Matt,” Jessica says.

  “Right.” The captain stares into Jessica’s eyes.
“How will he find you?”

  Jessica’s gaze drops to the table. “I have no idea.”

  CHAPTER 85

  Alexa screams.

  The champagne bottle slips out of her fingers and shatters on the hardwood floor of the office.

  She isn’t sure whether the dark shape that suddenly appeared three meters in front of her is a real monster or a creation of her drunken delirium.

  Reeking of sulfur and burnt flesh, black smoke rises from the vaguely human form. Flakes of what might have been skin or muscle slough off and settle on the floor. She thinks she can make out a few fragments of a tweed jacket. A thin piece of leather is strung across its blackened chest. The stumps of arms and legs tremble and shake. A pot-holed torso and misshapen head. Ears and hair are gone. A lump of black is all that remains of the nose. One eye socket is empty.

  Whatever it is, it’s burnt beyond recognition.

  Six Stones lie in random fashion on the floor a few meters away.

  Stubs of fingers move on black hands. An opening in the lower middle of the face appears, sucking in air with labored gulps as the chest rises and falls in shallow fits.

  She leans forward. “Is that you, Dr. Ryzaard?”

  The opening in the face moves, and a black tongue appears. “Call Jing-wei.” Charred lips open and close. “Not going to die.” The remaining lidless eye stares blankly at the ceiling.

  Alexa jumps to her feet and grabs her jax off the desk, running from the office and not looking back.

  CHAPTER 86

  Molten lava drops to the grass in a circle.

  A shroud of smoke and fire explodes up past Matt and Yarah. Cradling Yarah in his arms, he stands to his feet, carries her a few meters and puts her down, gently turning her on her stomach. Her skin is hot to the touch, flush with a high fever. Sweat beads up in great drops, drenching her clothes.

  Touching his chest, the blue skin recedes from his arms and legs.

  With careful movements, he places the open palms of his hands on her back and lets his mind enter her body.

 

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