Stones: Experiment (Stones #3) (48 page)

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.

T
he 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.”

S
ilence 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.”

A
lexa 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.

M
olten 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.

The poison in her bloodstream stands out in stark contrast, huge spiked balls the color of neon green. It’s easy to sweep from the organs and cells. It’s even easier to formulate a molecule to break down the toxin into harmless organics. After doing a full body scan once and repeating it twice more, Matt is convinced he’s gotten all of it.

Turning her over on her back, he wipes the moisture from her forehead and lets her rest.

Only then does he realize exactly where he is.