The Impossible Future: Complete set by Frank Kennedy (mini ebook reader .txt) 📕

The contours of the rifle felt natural and inviting against his grip, a familiar energy sweeping his blood as if he grew another appendage. He recalled the power that enabled him to pull the trigger twice before. He reached into the hidden place in his heart that used to tempt him toward things he knew were wrong – the place he usually resisted, keeping him from becoming everything he despised. This time he surrendered.

Out of the shadows, Jamie saw a fog rising, the vague and lazy haze coalescing into clear, discernible figures. In his mind’s eye, he saw numbers, letters, fractions and functions. They vanished in an instant, but he knew what they were. They were beautiful, and they were terrifying. Even if he didn’t understand the vast algorithms of the Jewel, Jamie knew what they equaled. The Jewel was alive and defending itself.

Jamie jumped to his feet, swung about in fury, and raised the weapon. He used only his ears. He heard the snap of a single twig.

He held the weapon steady as he fired, the report a series of gentle pops, as if muffled by a brain that didn’t want to know any more. Jamie heard the zing of another bullet slip past his right ear. In that instant, the sunlight returned, cutting through the trees and removing the abyss. The glow of the forest floor disappeared. Although the fury would not allow him to lower the rifle, Jamie saw what he did.

A strapping man with a receding hairline and a stare of utter bewilderment dropped his weapon as he stumbled backward against a tree. Reginald Fortis’s chest was shredded with bullet holes, and the man’s body crumpled pitifully on its side.

Salty sweat dribbled from Jamie’s forehead, but he made no effort to wipe it away while studying the body with neither amazement nor remorse. He met Reginald once; the local writer had given a shockingly dull lecture one day in Agatha Bidwell’s English class.

He heard the footsteps of the other pursuer and ran for the ledge. Bullets smacked the ground at his feet, and Jamie turned and fired, spraying bullets in his attacker’s general direction. He figured it out: make the enemy believe Jamie was in the trench, following the stream toward the lake.

Jamie saw himself as a boy fighting for his life but also a dark, despicable monster who surrendered to a power he would never comprehend. As his fury boiled, his instincts muddied. He didn’t notice the birch root growing above ground.

Jamie stumbled and fell end-over-end, the rifle catching in a low cedar while the rest of him rolled over the ledge and fell ten feet, landing on his back in wet sand. He lost his breath for an instant, but pushed himself up when he heard the pursuing footsteps. He looked around for the AK; but when he didn’t see it, he grabbed the .45 tucked in his pants. His wet hands fumbled with the pistol, and he struggled in the soft sand to find his footing. Oblivious to the throbbing pain in his back, Jamie tried to decide which way to run.

Lester Bowman, a man who ran a bed-and-breakfast and who Jamie recognized from several visits to Rand Paulus’s grocery, emerged at the top of the ledge, pushing aside bramble and revealing an M16. Jamie neither moved a muscle nor blinked an eye. He saw only an end that wasn’t fair, a fate no boy should ever have to suffer. His brain told him to raise the pistol, fire and hope. Jamie wasn’t sure whether his muscles followed suit. What he did know was that another figure appeared in the same instant, only this time on the opposite side of the stream.

“Drop it,” someone yelled. “Drop it now.”

Jamie turned. The police officer was not talking to him. Rather, the man aimed his rifle across the stream to the opposite ledge. He yelled to Lester a third time. Just when Jamie thought he might be about to survive, he heard a weapon cock. He faced Lester, who appeared to be smiling as he aimed toward Jamie and pulled the trigger. The first two bullets landed at Jamie’s feet, the third splintered driftwood behind him, and the fourth …

A pair of violent thunderbolts exploded across the stream. A hole opened in Lester’s neck, and blood sprayed. The second shot caught Lester above his right eye, and the body fell over the ledge, the M16 resting at its side. The officer altered his aim.

“Drop it,” the officer said. “Let it go, young man.”

Jamie raised the pistol to fire, its barrel still aimed at the spot where Lester once stood. It’s over, Jamie told himself. Let go.

He couldn’t. A sliver of the fury that kept him alive refused to go away. The snake slithered beneath his skin and encouraged him to find another target and finish what he started. Jamie tried to resist, his right arm firm but his trigger hand trembling.

“Come on, son. Put down the weapon. Don’t make me do this.”

Jamie wasn’t ready to let go. His breaths were deep and rapid; he saw blood everywhere. He wondered whether Michael and Sammie escaped the forest alive. Jamie wanted to surrender, but not to this officer. He simply wanted everything to be over. He knew that whatever drove him to kill would only grow more powerful in the scant time left. The Jewel did not want him to die yet.

He didn’t have to fire the pistol, only turn and aim. The officer would take it from there.

Jamie wondered whether he would feel pain. If the bullet killed him at once, would he see a flash of light? Would he wake up on the other side, like all the church-going folks around these parts believed? Was Ben right? Maybe, Jamie reasoned, this wouldn’t be so bad. At least he wouldn’t be