Chronicles of Stephen BoxSet

by Kenyon T Henry

  Stephen couldn’t hear through the door. However, he could access the thoughts of two men inside.

  I don’t know! Things were good. He was indulging himself. Someone must have gotten wind of what was going on and done something about it. I don’t believe for one minute that one of those women freed herself and the others. You think the Mighty could have been involved?

  Stephen smiled at hearing the name Mighty. He had the confirmation he wanted, but continued to listen to their thoughts. There were only the two men. Digging deeper in their minds revealed the first man gave the orders and the second followed, like a soldier.

  Possibly. It doesn’t matter though. We’ll have to continue with the next plan. You just need to make sure no one stops it. Are they ready?

  The second man paused. Stephen sensed hesitation, even remorse. This man had reservations about his actions.

  Yes. They’re ready. I only have one more piece to put in place before the bombing. I need to be able to get them past security. I’ve found the security team working the event. I just need to pay Officer Nokes a visit and make sure he won’t be in the way.

  Stephen became angry. He couldn’t let anything happen to Officer Nokes. And, he certainly couldn’t let them plant a bomb. The situation had become bigger than expected. He had been hoping to find Waltz’s killer. Instead, he’d stepped right into the middle of something he wanted nothing to do with. He saw only two options. He could walk away and try to live a normal life. Or, he could break up their plans, potentially stop a bombing, and, with luck, eventually find the killer he sought.

  Stephen grabbed the doorknob, attempting to turn it. The knob turned. He grinned upon realizing they’d left the door unlocked. That was not the smartest thing you could have done, fellas!

  Stephen busted through the door to see two men looking at him with confusion on their faces. Their thoughts echoed his thought.

  Both men were average size and appearance. The man to Stephen’s left, however, he had seen in Mrs. Finney’s memory, talking with Dan. Stephen glared at him.

  The man on the right spoke. “Who are you?”

  Stephen laughed but only in his mind, which he projected into theirs. As he began to laugh harder, he could sense fear begin to rise in the smaller man, who remained silent.

  “I asked you a question!” the larger man said.

  “Who am I? I’m the one who taught Dan a lesson. I’m the one who held a great man in my arms and helplessly watched him die.”

  “You’re Stephen?” The first man looked at the other man and back to Stephen. “You aren’t supposed to exist. You’re Waltz’s adopted son. But you have powers!”

  Stephen smiled. “Yes, I do!”

  “I see. You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

  The man lunged at Stephen, who easily moved out of the way, knocking the man’s head into the door frame. He had heard the man’s plan of action in his thoughts.

  “You know, there’s a reason they call me Rebound.” The man stood back up, his head bleeding. But the bleeding slowed until there was only a small cut. “You aren’t the only one with powers!”

  Stephen looked around for the second man, who seemed to have disappeared.

  Rebound came at him again. This time, Stephen planted his foot straight into the man’s stomach, knocking Rebound back against the door. Stephen searched Rebound’s thoughts for a way to quickly end the fight.

  Rebound came again. Stephen tried to evade but wasn’t quick enough. A jolt of pain coursed through as he was struck across the jaw, causing him to fall to the floor. The assailant picked Stephen up and threw him across the room, sending him crashing into a desk. Stephen crawled around to the other side, putting the desk between himself and the enemy.

  That was all the delay Stephen needed to find a weakness in his formidable adversary. The man’s will was too strong for Stephen to control the body. But Stephen projected thoughts and images into the man’s mind. He stood up as a body lunged past him, missing him completely.

  “What? I saw you!” Rebound turned for another pass, swinging wildly, missing the mark each time. “How are you doing that?”

  I read minds. I can also project my thoughts. You see what I want you to see.

  “Cute parlor trick. But that won’t stop me.”

  Wrong. I’ve seen your mind. I know your secrets.

  The man continued to struggle, swinging and kicking, making contact with objects in the room, never with Stephen.

  Stephen landed an elbow to the man’s jaw, and his assailant fell into a filing cabinet. This time, the man got up slower. His face turned red with anger. Finally, Stephen could feel the man’s fear.

  “The more tired you get, the slower you heal. Your battery is draining.”

  The man stood and charged at Stephen, missing him and falling over the desk instead. Rebound staggered to his feet with labored breathing. “You know, Waltz didn’t have to die. He was really out of the picture. But there’s a bigger player now, one that wanted him gone. Now I see why. Waltz died because of you. You’re strong.”

  “Who ordered his death?” Stephen started digging into Rebound’s mind, trying to see the bigger player. A sharp pain caused Stephen to pull back out of his mind. “Aaaggghhh!” He looked down at Rebound, who had begun foaming at the mouth. Stephen checked him, finding a couple cyanide capsules.

  Looking down, watching his answers fade, Stephen grew furious. He had been so close to getting answers. He stood still, shocked by what he had witnessed. Soon, he remembered the other man was still missing. Stephen searched for him. The door leading into the warehouse wasn’t open, which might not mean anything to someone with abilities. He listened for thoughts and discovered the man was outside. Stephen ran out the door he’d entered moments earlier, looking from side to side. Nothing.

  He listened for thoughts again. The man stood close, looking right at Stephen from a short distance. The man’s mind, however, was weaker. Fighting as hard as he could, he couldn’t keep Stephen from forcing his will on him. He became visible, standing on the other side of the street.

  Stephen walked across the empty street. He kicked the side of the man’s knee, sending him screaming to the ground.

  “How does it feel to be helpless?” He kicked the man again, only in the ribs. The crack of the ribs breaking echoed down the street. “Waltz was helpless. He didn’t have his old powers anymore. But you all killed him!” Stephen grabbed the man’s head and thrust his knee into his face, sending blood flying.

  The man fell motionless. Stephen grabbed him by the hair again, raising him to his knees.

  “Stephen, stop, mukker.”

  He recognized the voice. Without turning around, Stephen searched the thoughts, hoping it wasn’t who he thought. “Alistair, you don’t understand—”

  “That this bloke had something to do with Waltz’s death?” Alistair interrupted. “Yeah, I understand. But I can’t let ye kill him for it. Ye knew Waltz better than anyone. What would he want?”

  Stephen stood over the man, hair still clutched in his hand. He squatted down to face him. “What happens to him? A jail can’t hold him. He has the ability to make himself unseen.”

  “No, a jail can’t hold him. We have something that can, though.”

  Stephen let go of the man’s hair and stood back up.

  The man fell forward to his hands, panting heavily as he spoke. “Thank you, Alistair.”

  “Shut up, Matthew.” Alistair glared at him.

  “Wait, you know him?” Stephen turned to Alistair, who wore plain, casual clothes, not the ceremonial garb he’d last seen him in.

  “Yes, he was my friend.”

  “I was a friend of Waltz’s too!” Matthew began trying to rise to his feet.

  “I said shut up, Matthew!”

  Stephen turned toward Matthew and knocked him to the ground. No thought, no emotion, only instinct.The body hit the ground with a dull thud. Matthew was unconscious. Alistair had reached to grab Stephen but was
too slow to restrain Stephen’s fierce blow.

  “Don’t worry, Alistair. He’s alive—barely.” Stephen turned back toward the Scotsman. “You need to explain what’s going on, why you’re here.”

  “Well, I suspect ye already know who we are.”

  Stephen nodded.

  Alistair continued. “And ye know who they are.”

  Stephen nodded again.

  “Then the answer should be bloody easy to figure out.”

  “You’ve been tracking them?” Stephen asked.

  “Aye, I have.”

  “Well, you’ve done a poor job. Didn’t you see what was in the news?” Stephen asked.

  “I’ve been the only one able to track them, except for you, of course. Ye see, my gift is to see images of the future, or possible futures. And they’re only short glimpses, just enough for me to figure out where to go, usually. The closer I get to a situation needing attention, the more detailed the glimpses become. People, places, sounds all become more clear. However, Matthew here has the ability to seem invisible, by altering the mind’s ability to process seeing him. He can do a similar thing with his voice. The weak-minded won’t recognize hearing him, but the words seep into the subconscious.”

  “So,” Stephen asked, “you couldn’t see him either?”

  Alistair smiled. “Ye are a smart one.”

  “Your flashes, or premonitions, didn’t make sense without him in them.”

  “Keep going, please.”

  “Me!” Stephen looked to Matthew, then back to Alistair. “You first saw him when I did.”

  “Bingo. Well, almost. The images take place twenty-four hours before what I see actually happens. I wasn’t sure who you were, only that someone had seen Matthew. After that, I headed this way to stop him.”

  “Did you see me?”

  “About twenty-four hours ago, yes.”

  “So, you know about me?”

  “Honestly, mukker, I haven’t the slightest. I don’t understand how ye got involved.”

  “It’s probably best that you don’t, not right now anyway.” Stephen turned to walk back toward his bike.

  “Stephen?”

  Stephen paused.

  “I understand ye not wanting to trust me. You don’t know me yet. Something Waltz taught me was to find someone to confide in with everything, a mukker, a friend. You know?”

  “Can I trust you not to tell anyone about me?”

  “It’s not my secret to tell.” Alistair grinned.

  Stephen continued to his bike, saddled up, and rode back toward his building with the stars and moon still shining brightly above, knowing he would sleep a little easier that night than before.

  Chapter 13

  Bernie stood in the middle of a largely empty studio apartment. Stephen watched as Bernie walked around, first sliding his hand along brick, then looking at the exposed beams overhead. He walked over to the window, which ran nearly the length of the room. The sounds of the large overhead ceiling fan and the echoing of footsteps filled the air.

  “Well, it took me a month to the day to get all the work finished. What do you think, Uncle Bernie?”

  “I think you should have come by more often.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know. You’ve been worried about me. I get it. But things have been mostly good. I’ve been dealing, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Bernie turned toward Stephen. “You did a fine job. Did you put the kitchen in yourself? Or was it already there?”

  “Oh, it was there. But I basically scrapped it and started over. It was outdated.”

  “And these hardwood floors—beautiful!”

  “Thanks. I had some help installing them. But I picked them out and did a good portion of the work on them too. It’s hand-scraped wood.”

  “Has Patty seen the place yet?” Bernie continued looking around.

  “Nope. She saw it the day I picked it out. But that’s it. There’s plenty of space here. If I ever need to throw up a wall, there’s room.”

  “Like a nursery?”

  “Whoa! Hey! Slow your roll. I was only thinking about acoustics, aesthetics, and stuff.”

  Bernie laughed. “How’s work?”

  “Good. I’ve met with all the company heads. They’re decent enough and smart too. They’ve been helpful. But Vincent was right. The biggest part of my job is people, settling issues between people, dealing with people’s complaints, and so on. Vincent handles all the legal stuff for me. The decisions though, they’re all on me. It’s a lot.”

  “You and Patty?”

  Stephen smiled. “We’re doing really well. She’s going back home to spend time with her family for the Fourth of July.”

  “Speaking of which, are you coming over for the Fourth?”

  “Sorry. I can’t. Vincent invited me to go with him to his mom’s. She lives in Kentucky. It’ll be a long weekend. We’re leaving tomorrow night and will be back Tuesday.”

  Bernie pulled up a stool and sat at the counter next to Stephen. Stephen could see he had something on his mind.

  “Bernie, what’s bothering you?”

  “I don’t know. There’s just something about that guy that just don’t sit right with me. Ah, maybe it’s nothing. But he’s strange.”

  Stephen chuckled. “Yeah, he’s odd. He was homeschooled. He had private tutors and was basically kept at home. He wasn’t socialized very well growing up. Vincent’s a little different and knows it, but he’s getting better.”

  Bernie still looked worried. Stephen chose not to press the matter.

  “Where’s Bernard been?”

  “What?” Bernie shifted in his seat as though it suddenly became uncomfortable.

  “Well, he’s out of college now. I hoped he’d be at Waltz’s funeral.”

  “Yeah, that would’ve been nice. But I haven’t heard from the boy. After college, he went to Europe for the summer. Said he’d call when he got back, probably next month.”

  “Bernie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We haven’t really talked about Bernard much. If this Mighty stuff is a family thing, where does Bernard fit in? Does he have a gift? Does he know?”

  Bernie rubbed the back of his head and appeared to be thinking. “Sometimes this stuff skips family members. They don’t get the right gene or somethin’. I can’t say I fully understand that part. Usually those members still find themselves working in the organization. Not all of the Mighty have gifts. In fact, there are more that don’t than do. They’re sort of like foot soldiers and support. They’re very important. Bernard’s mom wanted to wait to see if he developed a gift. After losing my brother, she didn’t want Bernard involved unless he had to be.”

  “So, he knows nothing about it?”

  Bernie shook his head. “We never told him.”

  “That’s his heritage. Don’t you think he has a right to know and make that choice for himself?” Stephen struggled with the thought of not being able to share all this with Bernard. He also understood Waltz had kept the truth from him to protect him. “What if his abilities were latent and didn’t show up until later, like mine?”

  “Stephen, it’s alright. He doesn’t ever need to know.”

  “Not need to know? You’re kidding, right?” Stephen got up and paced the floor. “I’ve come to realize that I’m in the middle something big, like it or not. I know why I was kept in the dark. From what I understand, there was no reason to keep Bernard clueless. At least after he turned eighteen, someone should have told him. He needs to know.”

  “Stephen, you can’t talk to Bernard about it.”

  “Oh, really? I can’t?” Stephen stopped and stared Bernie down. I don’t believe you get to tell me what I can and can’t do. Unless you think you can stop me.

  “Hold on a second, Stephen. What the heck is that about? It’s not like that at all.”

  Stephen breathed a deep sigh, and his shoulders drooped as he walked over to the window.

  “Stephen, did something happen?”


  “The nightmares are back.”

  “Ah. That’s what’s got you on edge.”

  “Yeah. They’re affecting my emotions a bit. And that’s not all. I’ve been having a new one, of sorts. I’m in the darkness, and someone is there with me. Whoever it is doesn’t say a word. But I can feel him. I feel hatred. When I realize that I’m in my own mind with someone else, I wake up. Each time, I feel the hatred more clearly, like I’m getting tuned into it.”

  “Well, I was afraid that more stuff would start with Waltz gone. Running into the Mighty at his funeral didn’t help. Waltz was concerned with people finding out about you for a reason.”

  “Yeah, and what reason is that?”

  “Stephen, if you continue to learn to control your powers, there’s no telling what you can accomplish. Your power is greater than you know. Powers range.”

  “Yeah, I know. You guys told me this months ago. There are the classes. Then, it’s different for each person. No two are exactly the same.”

  “Right. But most people’s powers are more subtle.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Okay. Let’s say that someone else had your ability. You know how you get a sense of people—their emotions, their moods and such—just by being around them? Well, that would be the extent of the gift for most people. Stephen, what you can do, the things you’re capable of, they’re nearly unheard of. Waltz wasn’t one to brag, but he was very powerful too. That’s how he retained some abilities. After disbanding the triune and retiring, he should have had little to no power left. He should only have been able to train you by telling you, not showing you. But you are stronger than even he was. And I think there’s more to learn about you and your powers.”

  “Why didn’t Waltz tell me? I mean, he told me I was powerful but not like that.”

  “Waltz was one-hundred-percent Mighty, even after. He never wavered in his conviction. Not all of us are like that. I’m more along the lines of balance. I feel if either side became too strong, it would be game over for us all. Stephen, I believe you are strong enough to do what no one before you has done—walk your own path. I don’t think you need us, any of us. Both sides should feel threatened by your existence. You could choose to let Mighty and Fallen fight it out on their own.”