Shadows of the Stone Benders (The Anlon Cully Chronicles Book 1)

by K Patrick Donoghue

Lifting both hands in a gesture of compliance, Anlon answered with his own question, “What’s this all about Pacal?”

  Raising the Sound Stone into position, Pacal screamed, “Answer me!”

  “Whoa! Settle down Pacal. You give me Anabel and then I’ll tell you where to find the Stones and the map,” Anlon calmly responded, though inside his body shivered with fear.

  Furious, Pacal crouched into position with predator quickness and fired a volley from the Sound Stone at Anlon. The move caught Anlon off-guard, but he had just enough time before the waves hit to grasp the Port Stone from his pocket and pull it towards his chest. Unfortunately, the X on the stone was facing the wrong way and Anlon flew backwards and crashed against the jagged rock wall behind him.

  Anlon felt and heard ribs crack and he released the Port Stone as he fell to the ground. With blurred vision and ringing ears, Anlon frantically searched the ground around him for the Port Stone while fighting to refill his lungs with oxygen. If Pacal had noticed the Port Stone tumble from Anlon’s hand, he appeared unconcerned.

  Anabel struggled to her feet and shouted at Pacal, “You animal!”

  Pacal wheeled and glared at her. Defiantly, Anabel appealed to him, “Devlin trusted you Pacal. Why are you doing this?”

  Her entreaty diverted Pacal’s attention long enough for Anlon to locate the Port Stone and regain his feet. Still gasping for breath, he said, “Why did you kill him? You and Thatcher have plans of your own?”

  Pacal raised the Sound Stone and shot another blast at him. Anlon blindly lifted the Port Stone to his chest as the vibrations of the Sound Stone began to rumble in his abdomen. This time the odds were in his favor. The large X faced Pacal.

  To Anlon’s relief and Pacal’s dismay, the sound waves bounced off the Port Stone. Anlon felt the stone tremble in his hand, and through bleary eyes, saw the Sound Stone wobble in Pacal’s. He shouted, “Didn’t count on that, did you Pacal?”

  Stepping back, an evil grin widened on Pacal’s face, “Very clever, Dr. Anlon. But your Stone won’t help Anabel, will it?”

  Anlon stared in shock as Pacal spun around towards the frightened woman. Anlon called out, “Wait! Stop! Jesus, Pacal, why are the Stones so damn important to you?”

  The older man suspended his movement towards Anabel and retrained his gaze on Anlon. He railed, “Life! Youth!”

  Bending over, his left hand on his knee to steady himself as he winced with each labored breath, Anlon tightened his hold on the Port Stone with his right hand and pointed the hand at Pacal, “The symbol…on your ring...it’s what you are after?”

  “Clever again Dr. Anlon. It’s called the Seed Stone.”

  “Thatcher after that too?”

  “I don’t know how you figured that out, but no. He wants the Flash Stone.”

  “Flash Stone?”

  Pacal bellowed with maniacal laughter. He relaxed his pose and answered, “I guess you deserve to know why you’re dying here today. Yes, the Flash Stone. It’s a weapon. It makes this Sound Stone look like a twig.”

  “I see, that’s why you two killed Devlin?” huffed Anlon, attempting to stand up straight.

  “I did not kill Dr. Devlin!”

  “Oh come on, Pacal.”

  “I did not! To get the Seed Stone, it was not necessary to kill the Professor. All I needed was to make a copy of his map, but I needed him to finish it first, so killing him was not advisable.”

  “Then who killed him? Thatcher?” Anlon queried, urging their conversation to continue in an effort to buy more time.

  Pacal guffawed at Anlon’s suggestion.

  “Dobson?” Anlon probed.

  Pacal shook his head back and forth and said, “No, but you’re getting warmer.”

  “Ah, but you didn’t know that for sure until right before you murdered Dobson, did you?” speculated Anlon. “You were convinced he was responsible for Devlin’s death. Or were you just afraid he would get to the map before you?”

  Pacal’s thoughts flashed back to the confrontation with Dobson. He’d waited in the bushes while Anlon and Dobson said their farewells at Devlin’s house. Angered by the possibility that his decade-long dream of acquiring the Seed Stone was slipping away, he followed Dobson home. All the while, Pacal gripped the Sound Stone in his hand. The more he thought of Devlin’s unexpected death coming so close after catching Dobson “borrowing” the map, the more livid he grew.

  When Dobson pulled in his driveway and stepped out of the car, Pacal was already stealthily darting across a neighbor’s yard. The motion caught Dobson’s attention and he turned to face Pacal, but before Dobson could speak, Pacal lifted the Sound Stone to his mouth and shot him through the air and against the car door.

  The loud thud of the Mercedes door slamming closed stirred Rufus from a light sleep and the pesky Labrador began to bark. Pacal dashed into the shadows by the driveway and fought to gather his emotions while waiting for the dog to settle down. Peering at Dobson lying next to the car some six feet away, Pacal noticed he was still breathing.

  Though still enraged, Pacal was composed enough to realize that using the Sound Stone again might make too much noise. So while waiting for Rufus to finally stop barking, he formulated a new plan. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he withdrew a handkerchief…

  Roused back from his mental reenactment of Dobson’s death, Pacal shouted, “Correct on both counts! Now enough talk! The map? Where is it?”

  Anlon’s ears picked up the faint sound of sirens growing louder a moment before Pacal heard them. Straightening his stance, Anlon announced, “Game’s over Pacal. I’m not giving you the map or the Stones.”

  “Then you die!”

  With astonishing speed, Pacal crouched and cast a sound wave at Anlon. Extending the Port Stone, Anlon only partially blocked the blow. The tuna can-shaped rock teetered in his hand. Before he could regain full control, Pacal blew two more quick bursts in his direction. Anlon tumbled across the gravel floor, the Port Stone precariously gripped between his thumb and two fingers.

  Anlon tried to swivel on the ground to point the X at Pacal but was too late to fend off the next attack. The sound wave vibrations were different this time. They rippled through Anlon’s entire body. Before he knew what was happening, Pacal lifted him high above the tree line.

  Hanging in midair, Anlon flailed in desperation. Pacal hummed steadily against the speaker-like rock, taunting Anlon by swaying him in the sky.

  Anabel screamed for Pacal to stop. With gruesome force, Pacal jerked forward. The pull of the Sound Stone’s waves whipped Anlon brutally downward.

  All went dark for Anlon as he smashed into the ground, the Port Stone rolling loose from his spasming hand.

  Careening down the two-lane road, Pebbles willed slower traffic to move out of her way and whipped into the oncoming traffic lane to pass when they didn’t. Beads of sweat formed freely on her fiery face and arms despite the cool air flowing through the open vehicle windows. Her heart raced. She could not be late! If Jennifer didn’t get there before she did, Pebbles was on her own to stop Pacal.

  She hadn’t had time to find a proper weapon before she sped off in the Rover, and during her drive the only weapon she could conjure up was a crowbar. She pleaded aloud her hope that Devlin had a crowbar stowed with the car jack. Tears clouded her vision briefly before she pushed them away. She could not lose Anlon, not now. Clenching her jaw, Pebbles crushed the accelerator to the floor and rocketed down an open, straight stretch.

  Ahead she could see the makeshift parking area at the quarry entrance. Anlon’s rental was there along with another vehicle but there were no police cars and no sign of Jennifer. It would be up to Pebbles alone.

  Screeching to a sliding halt across the gravel of the parking area, she vaulted out of the Land Rover and ran to the rear lift gate, bouncing up and down on her sandaled feet while she impatiently waited for the electronic hatch to rise. Ducking under the half open hatch, Pebbles anxiously spied the cargo area and found the spare
tire storage holds. Lifting the floor door up, she peered in and spotted the crowbar. In the distance, Pebbles heard the wail of police sirens. Recalling Jennifer’s explicit instruction to wait for her to arrive, she blurted, “Come on! Come on! Hurry!”

  Just then a scream echoed from above. A woman’s voice. Pebbles’ head snapped in the direction of the sound, and above the tree line she saw Anlon’s flailing figure suspended in the air. For a second, Pebbles’ face froze in a horrified grimace. When Anlon’s body shot towards the ground, disappearing behind the trees, she screamed Anlon’s name and took off in his direction.

  Flying down the road leading to the quarry, Jennifer’s white-knuckled fingers gripped the steering wheel of the unmarked police cruiser. As she zoomed closer to the parking area, she caught a glimpse of Pebbles racing past the open Land Rover with a stick in her hand. She hollered an expletive and floored the car. Into the police radio, she shouted, “Echo One Three, where are you?!”

  In a sweeping arc, Jennifer braked the cruiser over the gravel, spewing dust high into the air. She leapt out of the car and swiftly attached a portable police radio to her belt while unsnapping the Glock holster beneath her arm. Dashing up the hill she called out to Pebbles, “Wait up Pebbles! Wait!”

  Another scream reverberated against the rocky hills bordering the trail. Jennifer’s eyes shot wide open and she clicked into a full sprint. The trail was steep at the outset and curved sharply to the right. As she sped up the incline, legs and lungs burning, Jennifer detected motion above the trees ahead and beheld Anlon’s twisted, motionless body wavering in the sky. A terrifying stab of anguish tore through her abdomen.

  Panting heavily, she raced upward. As Jennifer rounded the bend, she heard more sirens below and the telltale sound of squealing tires behind her. At the same moment she caught sight of Pebbles about 50 yards ahead of her, barreling forward almost out of control as loose stones under her thin sandals caused her to slip and slide. Jennifer now recognized the stick aimlessly swinging in Pebbles’ hand as a crowbar. All of a sudden, Pebbles pulled up, shouted ferociously and let loose the crowbar.

  The next 40 seconds were a blur.

  Jennifer yanked the Glock from her holster and chambered a round.

  Pebbles, still leaning forward after heaving the crowbar, suddenly flew backwards and crashed against a rocky wall astride of Jennifer.

  Slowing her sprint as she neared the opening in the trail, Jennifer crouched as she moved closer. She darted a fleeting look at Pebbles, who moaned and writhed on the ground, but already was scrambling to her feet.

  With both hands, Jennifer raised the gun into aiming position.

  Emerging into the clearing, Jennifer saw Pacal turn back towards Anlon, who lay bleeding and curled in a tortuous jumble on the ground. Pacal lifted the Sound Stone to his mouth again and for the third time violently lifted Anlon off the ground.

  Anabel, hands restrained, cowered and cried against the rocky wall.

  Jennifer raised the Glock and shouted, “Put him down, now! Easy!”

  Pacal’s concentration on Anlon was broken by Jennifer’s command.

  He pivoted, releasing Anlon from the clutch of sound waves, and again Anlon’s limp body hit the ground.

  Pacal hoisted the Sound Stone to his mouth, ready to blast back Jennifer as he had done to Pebbles. But he never got the chance.

  She was not the best shot in the department nor the worst. She had fired her gun in action as a patrol officer, but never as a detective.

  Maybe it was her long-idle Army combat training that took over, but from 12 feet away, Jennifer tapped out three quick shots as she slid down on her knees to avoid the sound waves from the stone pressed against Pacal’s mouth.

  The first shot missed and ricocheted off the rock behind Pacal’s head. Tracking her aim lower as she slid, Jennifer’s second shot ripped through Pacal’s shoulder, causing his body to rotate away from her aim.

  Before his body fully twisted away from her line of fire, Jennifer’s third shot hit Pacal through the left side of his chest, sending him flying backwards against the wall. Pacal lost hold of the Sound Stone as he rocked backward and fell.

  Pebbles, cheek bloodied from contact with the wall, raced past Jennifer towards Anlon, stumbling on hands and knees across the dusty trail.

  As she neared Pacal, he slowly raised his hand to retrieve the Sound Stone. Pebbles noticed the movement from the corner of her eye.

  Rage welled inside her and she rolled across the ground to where her errant throw of the crowbar landed. She snagged it and dove towards Pacal.

  Before Pacal could reach the stone, Pebbles reared back and viciously whipped the iron rod at Pacal’s lowered head. The crowbar shivered in her hand from the vibration of the cracking blow. Pacal dropped instantly.

  Jennifer, gun still in hand, jumped up and darted towards Pacal and Pebbles, intent on disabling Pacal with another shot, but she couldn’t fire with Pebbles in such close proximity. She cringed when the crowbar cleaved Pacal’s skull, but watched with relief as his dead body slumped over on the ground.

  Behind them, Nickerson and four uniformed officers came roaring up the hill with guns drawn, having heard the shots. Jennifer holstered her weapon and swiveled at the sound of their approach. She grasped the detective’s badge swinging from the lanyard draped around her neck and displayed it for the arriving officers. She screamed at Nickerson, “Call for an ambulance!”

  Anlon laid on the ground unconscious and convulsing. Blood trickled from his ears, nose and mouth. His left arm and right leg were bent in sickening, unnatural positions. Pebbles, tears streaming down her face, scurried across the ground towards him on her hands and knees. She clutched her arms across her abdomen when she reached him and screamed in agony up at the sky, “No! No! No!”

  Directing her attention to Anabel, Jennifer called to one of the officers to unbind her and check to see if she was injured. Standing above Pacal’s dead body, filled with anger and despair, Jennifer lifted the Sound Stone and threw it with all her might against the rocky wall, shattering it into a cascade of shards.

  Looking down upon Anlon’s expressionless face, Pebbles sobbed uncontrollably. Jennifer knelt down beside her and reached for Anlon’s unbroken arm to feel for a pulse. It was faint, but still there. Through her own welling tears, she comforted Pebbles, “He’s still alive! The ambulance will be here soon.”

  Pebbles moved to cradle Anlon in her arms, but Jennifer grabbed hold of her and yanked her back. She wrapped both arms around Pebbles and held her tightly.

  “Don’t…we can’t move him…his neck…his spine,” was all Jennifer could mouth as she fought to suppress her own feelings.

  In a daze, Pebbles’ mind flashed back to that awful night when James Cunningham lie lifeless on the Hamptons roadway, limbs similarly gnarled and bleeding profusely. Sprawled on the dune where she landed after bouncing off the colliding cars, Pebbles remembered reaching a hand in James’ direction as she blacked out. He died alone. Above all the sad and guilt-ridden emotions that haunted Pebbles afterwards, the image of James beyond her reach remained indelible.

  Pebbles wrestled against Jennifer and cried out, “Let me hold his hand! Please! I need him to know I’m here!”

  Releasing Pebbles, Jennifer stood and turned away to wipe tears from her eyes before her fellow officers noticed. She motioned to Nickerson that she wasn’t hurt. Jennifer then turned to comfort Anabel and noticed her pick up something and put it in her sweatshirt pocket. Approaching Anabel, Jennifer asked to see what she picked up. Sheepishly Anabel reached into her pocket and presented the X-marked Port Stone to Jennifer.

  Meanwhile, up the hill scampered three EMTs hauling a backboard stacked with medical gear and cases. The paramedics intensely labored over Anlon while Jennifer and the other officers secured the crime scene. Captain Gambelli arrived while Jennifer was detailing her version of events to Nickerson. He interrupted the interview and pulled Jennifer aside. He gazed at her with paternal conc
ern and asked if she was okay. Jennifer made a brief effort to display stern-faced composure before bursting into tears. She buried her face against Gambelli’s shoulder and wailed.

  Police dramas all too often depict shootings as gratifying climaxes for the pursuing officers, Gambelli thought. In his experience, taking a human life in the heat of a violent confrontation is traumatic and shocking, no matter how tough the cop and no matter how vindicating it might feel the moment the bullet fells the villain. Add to that the emotions that rush forth for a fallen comrade and a shooting can be downright debilitating. Gambelli understood this all too well and corralled Jennifer in his arms while her pent-up emotion spilled out.

  After triaging the scope of Anlon’s injuries, the paramedics first focused their attention on stabilizing his vital signs. The EMT monitoring the vitals cautioned the other two that Anlon’s blood pressure was dropping and his breathing pattern was becoming irregular, common symptoms of internal bleeding.

  They administered oxygen and did what they could to quickly immobilize and secure his shattered limbs. As much as they desired to minimize further damage to Anlon, the paramedics knew if they didn’t get him to an emergency room fast, his survival prospects were dim. They gingerly made a rapid assessment of potential injuries to his head, neck and spine, but they were running out of time. They implored the police officers present to help them lift Anlon gently so they could maneuver the board beneath him. They anchored his body against the board and briskly descended the trail to the waiting ambulance.

  All the while Pebbles gripped Anlon’s hand. One EMT tried to tend to her cuts and abrasions. She slapped his hands away and barked at him to work on Anlon instead. Another EMT motioned her to step away as they tried to secure him to the backboard. With a defiant thrust of her jaw, she refused. While the paramedics administered aid, she squeezed Anlon’s hand tenderly every so often, quivering as she felt his skin turning cold to the touch.

  Down the hill, into the ambulance and throughout the harried dash to the hospital, Pebbles never let go of Anlon’s hand until they wheeled him into the emergency room. As the trauma unit’s sliding doors closed, Pebbles heard a nurse yell, “We’re losing him!”…