Balance - Book 2

by Marc Dickason

CHAPTER 19

  I felt my feet carrying me forward. The flame burst from its cage and sang a shrill tune in my ears. I had no idea of my intentions. The dark haired young man spotted me first.

  “Ah, Jet Clarence,” he said, smiling wryly, “Out of hospital and back in the land of the living I see.”

  Gran spotted me next. Her eyes widened. Upon registering the young man’s words she shot him a stare of disbelief.

  “Yes, he survived, grandmother,” he said, “And I found him. Relax, I can handle this.”

  “You unbelievable idiot,’ she hissed.

  I stopped at the top of the stairs. Below me gran shuffled back to the car. Her walking stick clicked a tuneless rhythm on the asphalt.

  “Unbelievable idiot!” she roared again.

  “Fran Clarence,” I heard myself saying, “You are wanted for questioning. Please turn yourself in to my custody and I will escort you to the nearest Department of Magic…”

  “Back to full strength then?” the young man said. “Back to peak performance, prodigy? Whatever are you capable of now, I wonder?”

  Gran climbed into the passenger seat. She pulled the door closed and hunched into the classic ‘crash position’.

  “Fran Clarence!” I bellowed, descending the stairs, “Exit the vehicle! You are wanted for questioning and will turn yourself in to my custody!”

  “You’re on private property,” the young man said, moving to intercept, “and I believe you’ve committed a breaking and entering violation. I’ll let that slide. But we’ll have to ask you to leave, Enforcer Clarence.”

  He narrowed his eyes. There was a fleeting sensation of vertigo. Then I realised my arms were on fire. Yellow tongues burst into life at my wrists and twisted up to my shoulders. The fabric of my uniform began to turn black and unbearable heat seared my skin. I screamed. An instant later a bolt was sailing towards my head.

  This attack would likely have killed me six months ago; and came very close to killing me even after Enforcer training. But by some incredible, automatic reaction a hand was snap-charged with Spirit and lashed out. I felt my palm make contact and the energy was deflected; sent spiralling up over my shoulder and into the side of the building. There was a dull BOOM, then a deafening tinkle as a dozen windows turned glittering waterfall. An instant before turning towards the young man, flames still clinging to my arms, I caught a glimpse of my grandmother’s expression. She was horrified.

  “Well how about that,” the young man exclaimed, face glowing with delight. “That’s the way, Jet Clarence!”

  I sucked in a breath and found my Place of Calm. The flames vanished. Then, borrowing from Delaney’s arsenal, pushed out an image with the full force of my ability. A mother rat eating her own offspring, the bald creatures crying out like human babies. The young man flinched. But I was resisted. An image came straight back, a counter-spell. A woman being flattened by a steamroller from the feet up, wailing hysterically as bones splintered from her legs. I resisted.

  “What now?” the young man said. His grin pure elation. “What now, Enforcer? I’ve resisted humane disabling. What’s next?”

  I summoned my Spirit and it exploded into life. The popping blue sparks almost closed the distance between our bodies. His smile widened.

  “Last warning,” I said.

  “I’m waiting.”

  A drop of Spirit was directed to my hand and I fired it off. The young man held up his palm, accepted it, and absorbed. I fired again. Again the bolt was absorbed.

  “What are we doing here?” he crooned, “Playing catch?”

  “Class 4?” I asked.

  “5,” he corrected. “We’re the same, Jet Clarence. Straight down the line.”

  “Are we really?”

  About a quarter of my Spirit was directed to my uninjured hand. The sparks swirled as they moved to take up position, spiralling like an army of sentient fireflies. They twisted and gathered on my hand. A vibrating hum rang in the air. I released. The mass of energy, unfocused, travelled slowly. It crawled through the air at a fast walk, buzzing and sizzling, cracking asphalt beneath. The young man crouched and braced in preparation. He could have stepped out of the way.

  Seconds before he caught the enormous orb I let loose a second, this one tightly focused into the size of an apple and zipping along at blinding speed. It penetrated through the back of the first, exited out the front, and smashed into his perplexed face. His head snapped back but he managed to refocus and catch the first orb. His face grimaced as the energy was drawn away. As he returned his focus to me I was already on top of him. I drove a fist into his solar plexus. He gasped and doubled over.

  “Not straight down the line,” I said, following with a right to the side of his head. Enough Spirit was applied to send his body spinning. “One of us has had his nose in a stack of textbooks for the last six months.”

  Before he had hit the floor my eyes were turning to my grandmother. She was still hunched in the passenger seat. Her mouth gaped.

  “Fran Clarence…!”

  “You stay away from me,” she mewled.

  I walked towards the car.

  “You will turn yourself over in to my custody…”

  Her eyes narrowed and the world began to contract. Vertigo fluttered. It was pushed back with ease.

  “Now, Jet,” she muttered as I approached the door, “You are an Enforcer. There is protocol…”

  The world contracted again. Again I fought it off. She struggled to shift her old body from the passenger seat into the drivers. I tried the door handle; it was locked.

  “Jet,” she whimpered, “Please…”

  The world contracted a third time and fourth, each attack less focused and easier to resist. She was running out of steam. I jogged round to the driver’s side. She spotted my intention and reached out to lock the door. Her arm stretched to its full extent and a liver spotted hand flailed inches from the locking mechanism.

  I stepped to the other side of the car and that’s when Philip the security guard sprang into action. I caught a glimpse of him as he stood from his crouched position, then the flashlight caught me square on the forehead with a THUNK. I staggered. Stars burst in front of my eyes. And an instant later Gran’s blast smashed into me, tearing at my body and ripping at my uniform like a river current. Briefly I managed to resist and draw in the energy, but soon started slipping.

  Then I was flying backwards. My body made contact with the steps and back of my head cracked onto a sharp edge. The blast continued, bombarding me. My ears roared with a sound like gusting wind. The brick steps exploded upwards into fragments. For an instant I was sure I would be crushed. But the blast subsided; at last she really was running out of steam.

  “Sorry brother,” I heard Phillip whimpering, “Man, I am so sorry…”

  The world contracted and this time my swimming head was not able to resist. I waited, expecting more artificial flames or images of horror. But they did not materialise. Assuming the spell to have failed I attempted to stagger back to my feet, only to realise my legs were not responding. I glanced down and realised they were broken. Bones protruded from my shins and spiked through my trousers in white splinters. I gasped and attempted to reach down, but lo and behold my arms were also broken. Both were bent back at the elbows to make dual right angles.

  “Oh, you bitch…” I heard myself mutter.

  Sirens were approaching. Automatic D.O.M backup. I had not made or received a call in ten minutes.

  “You insufferable idiot!” gran was snarling, “You had him?! You had him in the hospital and you let him go?!”

  “I can handle him,” the young man responded groggily, “I can beat him…”

  “I told you not to underestimate him! This is not a pissing contest! For God’s sake, get back in the car! You absolute cretin!”

  “Let me finish him…”

  The sirens were getting closer.

  “The Enforcers, you idiot! Get back in the car!”

  There
was the sound of a car door opening. I looked up, vision swimming and warm liquid running down the back of my neck. The young man was climbing into the driver’s seat.

  “Let’s go!” he yelled at Philip.

  The large security guard was hovering nearby. He glanced at me, eyebrows knitted together in regret, then moved towards the car.

  “Damn it,” I growled to myself.

  My Place of Calm fluttered from my grasp again and again. The car’s engine fired up. Distantly, the Enforcer vans were now pulling up outside the security gate. In a last ditch effort I clawed for my Spirit and focused it in the space before my eyes, heart hammering. My target was a sliver of Fran Clarence’s head, visible through the passenger window. It was not impossible to hit, and I may have if Philip had not stepped into my line of sight at the last second. The projectile exploded against his head and he pitched to the side, bulk slamming into the car and shattering a window. His unconscious body slumped to the floor.

  “Go!” gran screeched.

  I drew up a second bolt, crushing failure now settling in my stomach. But gran was no longer visible. The car had lurched forward and was heading towards the perimeter fence. I fired. The rear bumper wrenched free and went spinning off. I fired again, aiming for the back window. But hit the trunk. Metal crushed concave and shunted the car’s rear a foot to the side, forcing the tyres to shriek as they fought for purchase.

  The young man stuck his arm out the window and released a bolt at the fence. It exploding open and cleared a path. The vehicle moved to exit. I fired again and missed the entire vehicle. It passed through the fence and swung out onto the flanking road. I fired again. And again, as it tore off out of sight. And again. And again. But it was gone.