by Ian Somers
I couldn’t help but laugh as took up the starting position again. I would need something very special if I was to win the match; all the odds were stacked against me and Romand was a lot craftier than I expected.
The sixth round was an intense one. I manoeuvred around everything that was thrown at me and eventually caught Romand off guard with another spear of energy. The score was level once more.
‘One … Two … Three!’ June shouted and the game restarted.
The Atkinsons threw stone after stone at me, but I managed to deflect every one while still focusing my precog gift on what Romand was planning.
The Frenchman slowly circled me and sent constant little nudges to keep me off balance.
‘Let’s see what you’re made of, old timer!’ I shouted.
‘Dodge this,’ he replied as he twisted his wrist and created a white orb that grew from his tip of his index finger. Suddenly it was as big as a beach ball and was so bright that I had to shield my eyes.
June threw a small stone and it caught me right in the privates. I let out a long moan and fell to my knees. ‘Oh, you … how could you … oh….’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry, love!’ she pleaded. ‘Really I am. That was a lucky one … unlucky one should I say.’
‘It’s all right,’ I said as Romand helped me to my feet.
‘You okay to continue?’ he asked. ‘That looked painful.’
‘It was.’ I took a very deep breath and stood up straight. ‘I’ll struggle on.’
‘You could say it was a low blow!’ Romand chuckled. ‘The score is my four rounds to your three,’ he continued. ‘If you lose the next round you lose the match.’
‘I know, I know.’
‘June, will you do the honours.’
‘One… two… three!’
I opened my arms wide, created an outward wave and was immune to all attacks. I kept the wave flowing from my body until I sensed Cathy was about to throw a particularly heavy stone at me. When she fired it I cut off the wave, allowed the stone to reach me then used my power to deflect it and send it straight into Romand’s privates.
June and Cathy snorted and laughed uncontrollably as he collapsed to the ground, roaring like a moose in heat.
‘Sorry,’ I shouted to my mentor. ‘Low blow and all that.’
It took five minutes for Romand to compose himself and get ready for the last round of the match. He scowled at me and raised his fists, ready to strike out with all his power.
I stood very still, my face was blank and my fists were clenched. I was not going to lose this fight. I remembered the texts of Ala-Qush and decided to use the forced anger technique. I remembered the day my mother passed away, how angry I was and how confused I was when I first realised my power. Energy was drawn up from the ground around my feet and filled my body.
‘One… two… three!’
I didn’t wait for an attack; I forced negative energy into my right fist, raised it above my head then bent down and punched the ground. A tremendous wave of power blasted out in all directions and my three opponents were lifted off their feet and fell into the long grass.
I stood up and lifted my hands victoriously. ‘I would say that is game, set and match to Ross Bentley.’
Romand sprang to his feet and went to the Atkinsons. ‘Are you both unharmed?’ he asked, helping June to her feet as he watched Cathy emerging from the long grass.
‘I’m all right,’ June said. ‘But my hair’s probably a mess.’
‘Me too,’ Cathy said.
‘Good. Very good, Ross. You used anger to be victorious, but you managed to control it, and not harm us. The greatest danger is to lose control; innocent people can get hurt if that happens.’
‘Enough of this for one day,’ June said. ‘The evening’s upon us and I think we’re all a bit tired and more than a little hungry.’
‘Can we order a Chinese from town, Mum?’ Cathy asked.
‘Something wrong with my cooking?’
‘No… but… maybe we can do something special to celebrate Ross’ victory?’
‘Chinese it is,’ Romand interrupted. ‘I’m buying.’
‘Romand, you’re the best!’ Cathy cheered. ‘Let’s go have a look at the menu!’
Romand really splashed out on the dinner. There were dishes of Pork Chow Mein, Chicken Curry, Sweet and Sour Pork, Duck and Black Bean Sauce, lots of egg fried rice and BBQ spare ribs. We couldn’t finish it off and a lot of leftovers went to Bebe and Pepe.
By nine, after a few glasses of wine, Romand was exhausted; the battle with me had left him no energy and his eyes were growing red. He was a bit tipsy and was starting to smile, which he didn’t do very often.
‘This wine has gone straight to my head,’ he said with a goofy grin. ‘I should probably go to bed. I will never tire of being able to simply go to bed and dream without fearing that some nasty little assassin will find me. You know, this is probably the safest place in the whole world. I am forever in your debt,’ he said to June as he raised his glass.
He drained it, ‘May your home always be a safe haven for you and future generations of the gifted.’
‘Come on, Romand,’ June said. ‘You should get yourself to bed, because if you fall asleep in that chair we’ll never get you moving.’
‘You’re right,’ he replied. He pushed his chair from the table and stood slowly. ‘Good night all. Ross, I shall wake you at seven in the morning.’
‘Good night, Romand.’
‘I’m going up too,’ June said. ‘I’m dead on my feet.’
Soon Cathy and I were alone, even the kangals had padded out of the kitchen into the hallway where they slept off their meal. Cathy slipped off her seat and sat next to me. We held hands without even thinking about it then shared a long, passionate kiss.
‘I’ve been dying to do that for days!’ I whispered. I pressed my forehead against Cathy’s and rubbed my nose on hers.
‘Me too. Romand has been like a hawk though.’
‘What’s his problem?’
‘When my father died he promised that he’d always look after me. He doesn’t mean any harm by it, he’s just a very loyal person and it makes him a bit over-protective. Think of him as a big brother.’
‘I already do. I think he’s hiding something really important from me, though. Do you know what I’m talking about?’
She leaned close and kissed me then wrapped her arms around my back. ‘Let’s not talk for now.’
‘Suits me,’ I said, hopping my eyebrows.
We spent almost an hour together before Bebe padded into the kitchen and sat watching us very closely. We both knew June was controlling the dog so that she could keep an eye on us.
‘I’d better head off to bed,’ Cathy said. She turned and looked at Bebe. ‘Seeing as we can’t get any privacy here!’
The dog barked at her and she left the table and gave me a peck on the cheek. ‘Good night, Ross.’
‘Night.’
I waited for an hour in the kitchen for the house to grow silent. When I was sure everyone, including the dogs, was sleeping I crept to the sitting room and switched on the light. There was a telephone by the window and I sat next to it and lifted the receiver. I knew I was breaking their trust by making the call, but it was something I had to do. I couldn’t leave Dad alone in Dullbrook worrying about me.
The conversation wasn’t a pleasant one and there was lots of shouting coming down the line. Eventually I calmed him down and assured him I was safe, but couldn’t return until the media attention died off. He seemed to believe me, even though I was lying through my teeth; I had no idea of when I could return to Dullbrook to see him. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever return.
I told him I’d call again in a few weeks then ended the call. I was about to head off to my room when I thought about Gemma, my one true friend from home. She was probably worried about me and I thought it would be for the best if I made a quick call to her. Just to put her mind at ease.
The
conversation started similarly to the previous call with lots of shouting, but she finally chilled out and told me she was just terrified that something might happen to me. I told her I was staying in England for a while and that I was with some really good people who were protecting me. She asked what I needed protection for, but I didn’t tell her about all the things I’d learned about over the previous month. I cut off the call when I heard a thump from upstairs.
I switched off the lamp and quietly made my way to my room. I felt much more comfortable now that I’d made contact with Dad and Gemma and my night’s sleep was a peaceful one.
Marianne Dolloway was sitting on the sill of the bedroom window of her London apartment, gazing out over the busy nightscape when a call came through on her mobile phone.
‘Yes?’ she answered coldly.
‘Marianne,’ a nervous voice replied, ‘it’s Golding.’
‘I know who it is! You’re the only one who has this number! What do you want?’
‘I have some information that might interest you.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘Shaw, before his untimely demise, discovered that Bentley was close friends with Gemma Wright, a girl from his home-town. He instructed some of his intelligence teams to track her down and put a trace on her mobile phone. Obviously, without Shaw or Bentley working for me I no longer have any interest in her … but …’
‘But?’
‘But Ross Bentley just made a call to her.’
‘Did you get his location?’
‘Yes.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE -
A Critical Mistake
Marianne woke early the next morning and stood naked in the bedroom gazing at her reflection in a full length mirror. Her preparations would begin before she even clothed herself. Her long silky white hair suddenly became alive, divided itself into long thick strands, then compressed and fused to form dreads. The dreads then wriggled around her head, medusa-like, and wrapped into an elaborate knot on the top her head.
When she was pleased with the way she looked Marianne opened a cabinet next to the mirror and applied white foundation to her face, then thick black make-up around her eyes and black gloss to her lips.
She paced to the wardrobe and spent a few moments rummaging then took everything she would need. First was a tight black body warmer over which she tied a leather corset. Then came a pair of leather trousers and boots with tall, sharp heels.
Then she took a small wooden box to her bed and opened it. Inside was a collection of rings and bracelets. She put a plain silver ring on each of her fingers and thumbs, then dragged at least twenty thin silver bracelets onto her wrists. There was a purpose to all the jewellery – she planned to melt the rings and bracelets into deadly projectiles and then fire them at lethal speeds. She needed no conventional weapons; her jewellery made her a walking machine gun.
Marianne returned to the mirror and gazed at herself again, now fully prepared for battle. She did a quick three-sixty and was pleased with what she was looking at. She was dressed to kill … literally.
By 11am she was on the street and her pursuit had begun. She felt like a predator; there was no fear in her and her confidence was flawless. She knew she could easily go to the location Golding had given her and collapse the entire house, killing everyone inside. That that would be too easy though and she would not get the answers she had sought for so long.
Killing Ross Bentley was just one part of her agenda. She also wanted to avenge Peter’s murder by killing Romand, something she’d been desperate to do for many years. There was more to it than just murder though; this was also a priceless opportunity to obtain information from those who had been protecting Bentley and Romand.
For many years there had been a group of gifted individuals working against Golding’s activities, but they were very good at covering their tracks. This was the lead she had been searching for so she could identify the shadowy group known only as ‘the guild’.
Most important though was avenging Peter’s murder. All the clues pointed to Romand. She’d had her doubts about the evidence at the time of Peter’s death, but as the years went by she grew convinced of Romand’s guilt.
Marianne was going to the house for revenge first, information second, but if her life was in danger she would cast aside her desire for answers and kill all in her way and dig for information after.
She paused on the pavement of a busy street and looked over a very flashy yellow sports car. It was perfect; just what she’d been looking for. She pressed a finger tip against the door lock and melted it, then turned the blob of aluminium clockwise until the door popped open. Once the alarm sounded she channelled both her psychokinesis and metallisir gifts into the engine bay and crushed the alarm siren. She then put her index finger to the ignition switch and twisted the barrel behind it and turned the engine on.
Seconds later she was rolling through the streets of London. The car growled loudly as she pressed her foot hard on the accelerator and she was pleasantly surprised, the car was faster than she’d expected. It wouldn’t take too long at all to reach her destination.
Bentley and Romand would soon be dead and then she would squeeze answers from whoever was left in the house – and take pleasure in it – before they also were executed.
Romand and I took a break around noon and sat in the barn and talked about the true gifts, which was the weirdest, which was the strongest and which was the most dangerous.
I was stunned when Romand complimented me on how I’d improved over the weeks I’d spent with him. He even said I had the potential to be the most powerful psychokinetic that had ever lived.
‘You really think so?’
‘Yes. Perhaps one day you will be strong enough…’
‘Strong enough for what?’
‘Strong enough so that you and I can go searching for Marianne.’
‘Why would we want to do that? She’s seriously dangerous, you told me that!’
‘Marianne is too dangerous. Too dangerous to be free… or alive for that matter …’
‘You want to hunt her down and kill her, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Romand muttered, almost ashamed that he admitted it. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘You don’t seem like the killer type, Romand.’
‘You’d be surprised, Ross.’
‘But why would you want to take such a risk?’
‘I have a good reason.’
‘Tell me.’
He turned to me and made me promise never to pass on what he was about to say.
‘I can keep a secret, Romand. I swear I will never tell anyone.’
His mood was dark and he rubbed his forehead anxiously before he spoke.
‘Romand?’
‘You were asking about the sixteenth gift. I shall tell you so that you can make sense of my plans. The sixteenth gift was mentioned once, in an Egyptian manuscript dated to the time of Rameses the eleventh. One of the pharaoh’s servants, a military leader, had four of the true gifts. It was said that during a battle with a rebel army he used the four gifts simultaneously and achieved the sixteenth power. It was thought to be a myth until 1989, when this mysterious gift reappeared.
‘A young American man, James Barkley, had the gifts of psychokinesis, pyrokinesis, electro-psyching and precognition. A potent combination and he was courted by Golding Scientific who wanted him to work for them. He refused, no matter how much money they offered. This enraged Golding, who then hired a Mageleton to kill him while he was travelling in South-east Asia with some other young people, gifted people.
‘The assassin tracked them down to the Indonesian island of Bali, murdered Barkley’s friends, but failed to kill him. Barkley somehow used all four gifts together to defend himself and attained the highest power. The sixteenth gift.’
‘What is this gift? This higher power?’
‘It is the Seductor Mortis. This person has the power to bring death to the living and life to those who have passed.’
‘You don’t mean—’
‘It’s a monstrous gift. And it made a monster of a good man. Attaining this power shattered Barkley’s mind and he grew demented within hours, which led to some appalling deeds on the island. His sixteenth gift meant he only had to brush off another living thing and they would die instantly. But more horrifying was the other side to this elusive power: he could raise the dead.’
‘Like zombies?’
‘I do not know exactly, the reports were not very detailed, but I do know that it is a power no human should command. He was given a name by the locals: “The Kematian”. It’s the Indonesian word for “death”.’
‘What happened to him?’
Romand’s facial expression was troubled and he took quite a while to reply. ‘No one really knows. Many have searched for the Kematian, but he has never been located. Ten years ago I accompanied other gifted individuals to Romania where there had been reports people rising from their graves. There was no sign of the Kematian though. A couple of years ago I heard a rumour that he had been captured and imprisoned.’
‘By who?’
‘Unknown.’
‘What has all this got to do with Marianne?’
‘When Golding’s people first found her, as a child, they brought her into the science centre in California where I was living. She was a deeply troubled child and was often hysterical. Nobody could calm her down and I was asked to help. I was brought to the cell they kept her in and I tried to make her sleep by creating hundreds of tiny light orbs and spinning them around her room. To my surprise it seemed to make her drowsy and she gradually tired. I turned out the orbs as she fell asleep, but before I left the cell one orb reappeared. It was red in colour, was very faint and only lasted for an instant – but it was not of my making, I’m convinced of it.’
‘She created it?’
‘Subconsciously. Ross, she doesn’t know she has a fourth gift. But if she were to find out … Marianne has read the story of the Kematian. She knows that four gifts used simultaneously releases the sixteenth gift. She cannot be allowed to achieve the Seductor Mortis, not someone as bitter and twisted as her. It would represent a threat to all humanity. I’m sorry to land all of this on you. It has been our greatest fear that she would realise her full power and this is a rare chance to remove her as a threat. We’ve never had someone as strong as you on our side, Ross, it is a golden opportunity to save the world from a disaster of immense proportions.’