by Jason Brant
Chapter 24
The body of the chopper plummeted to the earth with fire and smoking trailing it. Its tail, severed during the impact, landed on the public address system used for the president's speech. Sparks showered the surrounding area as the equipment shorted out. Above the tumbling wreckage, the charring spot of the collision burned from spilled fuel. Thousands of blinding flashes encompassed the field as photographers snapped what would become iconic pictures of the Washington Monument burning.
The photo frenzy following the crash was short-lived as police officers began executing each other.
Many of them were within a hundred feet of us – they were the first ones to open fire on other lawmen. When one of the shooters was incapacitated, Murdock would release his control of him and move on to the next. His influence jumped from cop to cop, creating a wave of violence that started behind me and moved around us counterclockwise.
"Enough! Everyone you're after is right here, not out there!" I had trouble hearing my own voice over the rattle of gunfire.
The shots halted. Those who weren't wounded began running back to the safety of the buildings and trees, dragging their injured comrades with them.
"You're right. Sometimes I get a little overzealous. It happens when you love what you do."
He walked over to where Smith stood, rooted to the ground with his eyes watching Murdock's every move.
"You're so predictable. I knew you were using me from the moment I escaped at the funeral. You wanted me alive and that meant you would try and hit me with that wonderful little drug of yours. That's why I dosed myself with naloxone, since it nullifies the effects of opiates. You were out of my range when you sat in the SUV over there, so I had to play along to get you a little closer."
I should have known something was wrong when our mental connection hadn't broken. Lieutenant Columbo I am not.
Jackie walked over, stopping in Smith's field of vision.
"It's a hopeless feeling, isn't it? Knowing you're about to die and there's nothing you can do about."
Jackie, his eyes locked on Smith's, pulled a pistol out of his shoulder holster and held it to his temple.
"Say goodbye to your flunky."
Fragments of Jackie's skull and brain matter landed on the front of Smith's suit.
Murdock turned and looked at President Thomas. "Don't worry, you haven't slipped my mind. Your buffoonery has led to your death. I might not have escaped that horrid country if you hadn't sent an assassin to kill me. He provided all the distraction I needed to break out."
"You're a coward," I said.
"A coward?" he said, spinning toward me, hysteria in his voice. "I gave this country everything! My entire life! So many missions, so many lies, so many times I wondered if I would ever make it home! And what do I get in return? Torture! They left me in the hands of an Iranian torturer! After everything I've done, they threw me away like a piece of garbage!"
Even though he was a maniac who murdered innocent people on a whim, I could relate to him on at least one thing.
"Only these assholes did that to you. Sammy didn't; I didn't. Those police officers did nothing to you. You're just as bad as they are. You can all rot."
Murdock glared down at me, his eyes twitching as he looked over my mangled body.
He continued to watch me as Sammy bent down and picked up the shotgun. Once again she tilted it up under her chin, her finger moving to the trigger.
"Say goodbye to your friend."
"Hey, Murdock!" a tiny voice called from my right.
I looked over and saw Nami standing there, holding the massive Desert Eagle in both of her pint-sized hands. She must have snuck up on us while the cops were trying not to shoot each other. Murdock had been too busy concentrating on everyone else to sense her presence.
"Fuck your mother," she said as she pulled the trigger. The incredible recoil of the pistol catapulted her small frame backward, the gun flying from her grip. She landed on her ass with a stupefied look on her face.
The bullet didn't even come close to hitting anyone. She came closer to hitting the moon than she did Murdock.
"Nice try, Nellie."
"Another of Smith's peons. Come over here and join the party."
Nami stiffened, then rose to her feet and walked over to the agents. Murdock stood still for a moment, concentrating.
"It seems we have to cut our fun short. The police are in the process of setting up snipers from their SWAT teams."
I looked around, searching for anything I could use against Murdock. The Desert Eagle had landed on the ground about ten feet from me. It might as well have been a mile. I started crawling toward it at a snail's pace, knowing I couldn't make it. The entire left side of my body pleaded with me to stop moving. Blood flow from my bullet wound increased as I struggled along. Rage built inside of me at the hopelessness of it.
All of the agents pointed their weapons: one at Nami, President Thomas, Smith, and one put his gun in his own mouth. Sammy still held the shotgun under her chin. Smith and I were the only ones without a firearm aimed at us.
Five feet away from Nami's cannon, I kept inching forward. The fury accumulating in me was startling, almost uncontrollable. My head pounded from the adrenalin surging through me.
"Look at the hero, trying to crawl to his salvation. That looks like it hurts, and I know about pain. Watch his failure with your last dying seconds."
Murdock's marionettes turned and faced me, their eyes pleading for help. The pistol was still two feet from my outstretched hand, taunting me. The frenzied storm swirling inside me caused my body to shake like a rabid dog.
"When the bow breaks, the cradle will fall, and down will come America, cradle and all."
"No!" I howled, all of my ferocity bursting to the surface.
The Desert Eagle, still two feet away, slid across the ground, settling in my hand. Before I could process what happened I swung the barrel around, pointing it at Murdock.
"What? That's impossible!" Murdock said. I relished the astonishment in his eyes.
"Pop goes the weasel, asshole."
I shot him just under his left eye. Most of his head disappeared in a sea of red mist.
Sammy, Nami, and Smith all slumped forward as Murdock's body fell to the ground. The Secret Service agents went to work without hesitation. Two of them grabbed President Thomas, who stopped blubbering long enough to order everyone's arrest, and carried him in the direction of the nearest patrol car. The other two secured Murdock's body, even though he had essentially been decapitated.
The moment I shot him, our connection broke, and the echoes crashed in like a tidal wave. Bleeding from my shoulder amplified even more. The adrenalin had temporarily increased my awareness, but my senses were fading again. I couldn't be sure if it was from blood loss or the thousands of thoughts reeling through my mind.
Nami looked at me like I had three heads. "Did you just use the force?"
"Telekinesis. Unbelievable," Smith said, awe in his voice.
I tried to respond but only incoherent mumbles came out. I was fading fast. Even if I could have answered, I honestly didn't know how it happened.
Sammy crawled across the lawn to me, putting my head in her lap.
"How did you do that?" she asked. "Oh God, look at all the blood!"
My eyelids felt like they had weights hanging from them. I had the vague sensation of pressure on my shoulder as Nami tried to slow down the bleeding.
The two agents who had secured Murdock were now doing the same thing to Smith.
"What the hell are you doing? Do you know who I am?"
With their guns trained on him, he was ordered to the ground. He hesitated a few seconds before complying. His eyes never left me. Behind them I could see dozens of cops rushing to our position, their firearms held out in front of them.
My head drifted down, further into Samantha's lap, though I tried to keep it upright. She put her hands on either side of my face, holding me steady. Her breasts
rested against the top of my head as she looked down into my eyes. At least I got to touch them once.
"Help is coming, Ash! You did it, you stopped Murdock!"
White light began to envelope everything, starting from the outside edges of my vision. It made her dirty, stressed face look angelic.
"No, no, no, no…" Sammy said.
The echoes faded away, giving me peace for the first time in half a decade. Euphoria wrapped around me. Focusing on forming words, I summoned what little strength I had left.
"The voices are gone," I whispered as I gave her my best smile.
Warm tears splashed on my cheeks as she bent down and gently kissed my lips.
And everything was white.
Echoes
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
ECHOES
by JASON BRANT
Copyright © 2012 Jason Brant
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Jason Brant.
Table of Contents
Echoes
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
