Paranormals (Book 2): We Are Not Alone (50 page)

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Authors: Christopher Andrews

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BOOK: Paranormals (Book 2): We Are Not Alone
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Steve was again plagued with many questions, but this time his focus was drawn to the Lan siblings. Callin and Della clasped one another’s forearms, bowing their heads until their foreheads touched. They remained this way for several uninterrupted seconds, seeming almost to be lost in joint prayer ... and then they began to glow.

As the others watched, Callin’s silver and Della’s golden sheaths melded where they met, coruscating in a way unique from their normal qualities. Della’s glow then flowed toward Callin, swirling into his silver energy, mixing without intermixing, at first ... until the gold faded, absorbed into the silver, leaving the latter more vibrant than ever.

Della gasped, arching her back. She gasped again, this one sounding pained. Then she fell away into Larr’s waiting arms, her golden energy gone.

Callin looked down upon his sister, waiting for a nod from Larr. When the old man gave it, Shining Star pivoted to Vortex, his energy burning so bright Takayasu and Density had to look away.

“Let’s go.”

 

PCA

 

The bounty hunter’s escape had taken far longer than anticipated. Killing the humans in the hall was no great task, but when he reached the elevator, he found more escape preventions in place, more anti-convert technology. He used his EMP again, and again, and it began to wear on him. The elevator then refused to work, which was his own damn fault, so he ended up climbing up the shaft, only to encounter conventional traps — projectile weaponry loaded with rubber slugs and a crude net that, even as he scoffed at such a primitive notion, nonetheless managed to ensnare him. In the time it took to claw his way through, the humans were almost on him. The guards also had a convert with them this time, one who made him dizzy and nauseous with a wave of her arms.

But it wasn’t enough — the hunter was determined to leave this miserable planet, and nothing these annoying primates could do would stop him. He would let others deal with them — that was what he did best; his expertise lay in infiltration and sedition, not combat.

Finally, he broke free of their traps, escaped their confinement, and made his way toward his vessel. Just a few more minutes and this backward mudball would be behind him.

Good riddance.

 

PCA

 

For Steve, the flight to the rogue pit was different from the times Callin had carried him with hands under his armpits, different from riding Powerhouse piggyback to the ground. Lying across Callin’s arms, plus being swaddled head-to-toe in Callin’s cape-turned-blanket, was uncomfortable and a bit emasculating, and the constant pressure, the steady vibration ... it wasn’t doing his broken ribs any good, that was for sure. He reminded himself, repeatedly, that at least at Shining Star’s speeds, it wouldn’t last long.

Then he finally heard exactly what he’d been waiting for: Callin shouted, “We’re here!”

It took them a solid minute to slow down, to avoid adverse effects on Steve’s body. Callin circled around in a long curve as Steve tugged his face free of the cape so that he could see.

The rogue pit was lit up, all external lights blazing at full strength, with searchlights probing its environs. Fortunately, the PCA staff had been warned to expect them, so no one took shots as they circled the facility.

“Switching to ultraviolet,” Steve announced. He intended to scan the area for the escaping alien, but something much bigger came into view. “Holy shit! It’s on the roof!”

“The bounty hunter—?”

“No! His ship!”

“Where is it?”

“Toward the front, the side closest to the main gate.” Steve shook his head. “Jesus, I was just waiting for him to make a move on Cooper. It never occurred to me to recon the roof.”

As they drew closer, Steve saw that the bounty hunter’s ship was squat, bulbous, and relatively small, a craft large enough to house only a few people — or, in this case, humanoid frog-things — with little room to spare; within his UV sight, its cloaking field was a beautiful shade of bronze.

As they descended to the rooftop, Callin said, “This is perfect. If we disable his vessel, here, now, the threat he represents—”

“Oh, crap.”

As Vortex watched, a figure scuttled over the edge of the building. It paused upon seeing the descending heroes, then made a mad dash for the ship.

“There! Right there!”

“I can see what’s left of the orange paint. I’ll get him.”

“Drop me and do it! Hurry!”

Shining Star swooped in and dropped him as gently as he could without landing. Steve grunted as he favored his bad leg — the roof was covered with little white rocks, which didn’t help, but he kept from falling, and his aching ribs thanked him. Shining Star accelerated toward the fleeing bounty hunter, but too late — the hunter dove through an open port on the side of his ship. The Grand Lord brought both fists to bear, preparing to fire twin volleys of energy.

Purple light pulsed from the ship, rattling its cloak and bringing the vessel partially into the normal light spectrum. Unfortunately, this was a trade the bounty hunter had been willing to make, knowing the effect the light would have on the Taalu.

Shining Star faltered, careening sideways in his flight and crashing onto the roof to the left of the ship. He sat up, shaking his head, but his expression was one of panic.

“Vortex!” Shining Star cried. “I ... I can’t see!” He yanked off his eye-mask, but this evidently did not help; the purple light had been far from blinding, so something else had to be going on.

“I’m coming!” Vortex shouted, stumbling forward as quickly as his bad leg and ribs would allow.

“Which direction?!” His right hand was glowing with pent-up energy, waiting for release. He struggled to his feet, revealing the fresh blood flowing from his hip wound. “Tell me where to shoot!”

Vortex opened his mouth to answer, then swore instead as the ship rose from the rooftop. “It just took off! Up and to your— no, straight up now!”

Not wanting to take any chances, Shining Star fired in that and several directions. One of his shots clipped the side of the ship, bringing it fully into normal view, but the vessel was still climbing.

“No!” Shining Star cried in rage and frustration, firing again and missing. “He can’t get away!”

The ship angled forward into a rapid climb, already several hundred feet in the air — in a matter of seconds, it would be out of sight.

Vortex skidded to a stop next to him. “He’s not going anywhere.”

Drawing a deep breath that made his broken ribs scream, Steve fired a compression vortex, catching the escaping ship and halting its rise in a lurching instant.

But this was no rogue. This was a vessel capable of traveling the vacuum of outer space, of escaping planetary gravity wells, of navigating the cosmic planes of gas giants and of the stars themselves.

The bounty hunter’s ship staggered under the assault, then it tilted further forward and sought to escape the vortex.

“Oh, God ...” Steve reached out and placed a trembling hand on Callin’s shoulder.

Callin, who had been rubbing his eyes in an attempt to clear his vision, tensed. “What’s happening?”

“I’ve got it ...” Steve choked, “... I’ve got the ship in a vortex ... but it’s trying to break free ... Jesus, please ...”

Steve grew weak in the knees; Shining Star steadied him. “Can you hold him?”

“I ... Callin, I don’t know ...”

This was like nothing Steve had ever attempted. He had thought that using his vortex on Powerhouse, on Isaiah Khalkha, on the Noctoponm aliens had been difficult ... but they were
nothing
like this.

It was, at least, a two-sided fight. The ship above was not only attempting to break free, to continue its upward flight, it was also suffering the vortex’s crushing force. The bounty hunter was pouring more and more power into the prime field — Steve could feel it, feel every ounce of it.

He couldn’t fail, he
couldn’t
. Too much was riding on this. Shining Star’s people, not to mention all of planet Earth, for God’s sake — who knew what the next bounty hunters might be willing to try?

No. No, he wasn’t letting the ship get away!

But he could feel his body reacting. If he let the vortex drop, even for a second, he wouldn’t be able to generate a new one. By keeping this constant attack, by maintaining this vortex, his eyes were draining his body’s natural, biochemical electrical field. His muscles were trembling, his heart began skipping beats, it was all he could do to stay conscious.

Callin held him steady, but his voice sounded frustrated. “I can see a little now, barely. What would happen if I fired energy into your vortex?”

“Don’t ...”

“But I thought you said the Lieutenant shot the paint into it—”

“Different ... just more matter ... you fire energy ... might disrupt vortex ...”

The ship fought. Steve fought.

I’m ... not going to make it ...

NO! Get your act together, Davison, and
hold that ship
, damn it!

The bounty hunter’s ship had been as silent as the Taalu’s and the Noctoponm’s, but it wasn’t silent anymore. The engines whined with such ferocity they could hear it from the roof below ... and another sound, too, a metallic squeal ...

“It’s buckling!” Callin told him. “The hull is starting to crumple. Hold on, Steve!”

Steve’s heart skipped more beats. His arms and legs grew numb. His body was cold, but his eyes felt hot in his skull.

I’m ... not going ... to make it ...

As the ship greyed out in his vision, Steve plunged into the depths within himself, seeking anything and everything to hold his focus. He used the pain of his injuries, the burning around his eyes, the lingering traumas racking up on his body as the hero Vortex, the frustration that more paranormals weren’t following his example, the heartache over the slaughter of his family and his brother’s having no body left to bury, his hatred for Richard McLane for murdering them and his conflicted guilt over turning that son of a bitch into a mental vegetable ... and his fear that
none
of it would matter if he failed to
stop that ship!

Steve grasped all these things with all his might and, roaring at the top of his lungs without realizing it, he rallied and sent one final surge into the vortex.

The bounty hunter’s ship collapsed, crushed into a smoking ball of twisted metal half its original size.

And Steve’s heart stopped.

 

 

 

INVINCIBLE TEAM

 

Steve awoke without ceremony. He didn’t struggle or fight his way to consciousness, his eyes were simply closed one moment and then open the next. He lay still a moment, blinking and looking around the room.

I’m in a hospital
, he thought.
Déjà vu.

He turned his head to the left and saw Michael Takayasu dozing in the chair next to his bed. This surprised him; not that Michael would come, but previous experience drove him to expect Alan Russell.

Michael roused a bit, glanced Steve’s way, then perked up when it soaked in that Steve was looking back at him. “You’re awake.”

“How long have I been out?”

“About twelve hours. You just missed your friend, Alan ...”

Bingo.

“... but he had some fire to put out at your company. I’m sorry he’s not here to greet you.”

Steve shook his head. “It’s fine. The last time I woke up from a near-death experience, I was blind and Alan told me that my family had been murdered. I’m hoping this round isn’t so bad. What happened, exactly?”

“Your body shut down, heart failure. The medics at the rogue pit stabilized you, then Callin flew you here.” Michael smirked. “In the interim, I arranged for Vortex to disappear into the night, while Steven Davison was admitted, suffering from heart arrhythmia induced by an electric shock. Your other injuries are getting swept under the rug.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. I would suggest you refrain from pushing your vortex that far ever again, but under the circumstances, I’m grateful that you did. And the Taalu now believe you walk on water.”

Steve laughed, which in turn brought a wince as his ribs protested. “Hardly.”

“You’ve been holding out on me. I didn’t know your vortex had that much kick.”

“Neither did I, to be honest. Alan once told me it could punch through a mountain. I guess crushing an escaping alien spaceship ranks about that high.”

“For what it’s worth, he’s already talking about ways to extend your energy reserves. Sounds like a good idea.”

“No argument here.” Steve shook himself. “Hey, how’s everyone else doing?”

“They’re fine. Mark’s under observation for his concussion, and the doctors are trying to figure out how to deal with Lincoln’s broken wrists. Density’s standing by in case they need her to soften his bones for resetting.”

“Ouch.”

“Lincoln would agree, I’m sure. He and Mark are sharing a room and are trying to out-injury each other.” He rolled his eyes. “I swear, it’s like that scene from
Jaws
.”

“I know the one. So ... they aren’t trying to kill each other?”

“No, they seem to have worked some things out. I’m trying not to jinx it by asking too many questions. Though Lincoln’s brother and sister are about to drive Mark bat-shit crazy.”

“I imagine. What happened with Charl and Della?”

“Della’s fine. She woke up about a minute after you and Callin left. I gather her energy recharges, like your eyes. She gave Callin quite a boost, though, so it might take her a while. Charl is a little worse off, but Larr believes that he’ll pull through, thanks to his paranormal condition.”

Steve nodded, grateful that they all made it ... except for Pendler, of course. Poor Greg Pendler, whom they all dismissed so easily, until he was killed because of the one time he refused to abandon Lincoln.

Willfully changing the subject, he asked, “What about the rest of it? I mean, you know, all the fallout from this past week?”

“Oh, man ...” Michael’s cheeks puffed out as he exhaled. “Well, there are a lot of rumors flying fast and furious about what the hell this was all about, and a lot of decisions to be made. Pictures of ‘the Shining Star’ are all over the Internet, especially a whole series of his glowing bright silver as he walks alongside the superhero Vortex. Looks like they were taken outside the pit. I don’t suppose you
know anything about that?”

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