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

smiled, and they gave chase. They jogged in a crouch with their weapons extended. They stayed within ten yards of each other, and Agatha ordered Christian to establish clear aim at a target before shooting.

Five minutes into their search, Agatha heard young voices. She saw them first. Agatha checked her weapon and prepared for the last purposeful moments of her life.

She saw the teens huddled together surrounded by a healthy cluster of tall, thick pines. Beyond them the land rose steadily, changing into a tangled mass of knotted trees with bright green leaves fluttering in a gentle breeze. She saw a few rays of sunlight beyond the pines trying to cut through to the forest floor.

Agatha found Jamie in the crosshairs. She crimped her finger back against the trigger and settled her breathing.

At that instant, Jamie turned and ran uphill, a pistol in hand. Agatha’s instinct was to fire anyway, but she resisted then waved off Christian, who also was ready to fire.

“Do as I say,” she told him when reunited. “We have to act quickly.”

 

61

S AMMIE AND MICHAEL stared at each other through their tears, the shock beginning to set in. Michael smacked his fists together.

“Everything we been through, and he’s just gonna …”

“It’s what he wants, Coop.”

“No. It’s the Jewel. Got him brainwashed. If we go after him, can’t we talk him out of this? Try something different? Anything.”

She chose her words carefully. “Coop, there’s only twenty minutes left. Jamie wouldn’t give up unless he knew he couldn’t win. He’s been fighting so hard since this started.”

The sound of footsteps from the wrong direction stopped Sammie in mid-sentence, and she reached for the M16, which was slung over her shoulder. Before she could swing about and bring the weapon into firing position, a purposeful voice intervened.

“I shot you once,” Christian told her. “Smack in the belly. Don’t know how you’re still standing, but you won’t be if I shoot again. Raise your weapon and die. Otherwise, drop it, Sweet Bread.”

The rifle shook in Sammie’s right hand. The nickname Sweet Bread made her skin crawl. Her gave it to her on their first joint-training mission in Louisiana – right before he announced he would take her virginity within a year. A flicker of Chancellor heroism within her said that even if she sacrificed herself, she would rid the world of Christian Bidwell – and maybe buy Jamie all the time he needed to finish his journey in peace.

However, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Michael – a stiff, unarmed monolith. She couldn’t sacrifice him as well, so she tossed the weapon to Christian’s feet.

Christian ordered them to their knees, and they complied. Agatha revealed herself to their left, walking with a distinct limp toward the path Jamie took seconds earlier.

“Hello, Mr. Cooper,” she nodded. “You are a remarkable sight. However, I can’t linger for the details behind your apparent resurrection. I assume it was Biblical in a certain context. Yes?” She turned to the other captive. “I am truly sorry for your losses, Samantha. If only your father had not been so intransigent.”

“Tell me something, Queen Bee,” Michael interjected. “What’s Albion High gonna do without your beautiful mug lording over all them redneck kids?”

Christian cursed, cocked his weapon, and leveled the butt against the side of Michael’s head. Agatha sighed.

“No, son. We have shed more than sufficient blood. These two are not the enemy. Give me five minutes lead. Then set them free. They deserve a chance for life, assuming they can run fast enough.” As she turned away, Agatha added, “Join them, if you wish.”

Christian backed off, his jaw hanging. “But Mom, I should be the one. I can get to him faster, and I’m a better shot.”

“Goodbye, son. Perhaps another path will bring us together.”

She disappeared into the woods.

Christian offered the sneer of superiority that always charmed his posse of hangers-on at school. Sammie stewed.

“What’s it going to be, Christian?”

“No need to worry, Sweet Bread. When the time comes, I’ll be quick.”

 

62

9:41 a.m.

J AMIE FELT AS if all the burdens of life were lifted. He thought only of the peaceful place he knew was ahead, so he jogged through the forest as if he were running through Albion late at night. Like his hometown, the forest seemed familiar. The shrubs, the wildflowers, the fallen tree trunks, the scrub brush, the ground packed in a permanent dressing of dead leaves and twigs. Nothing slowed him down – not the logs over which he leaped or the sharp slopes he scaled without slipping. Each move came by instinct, as if his lifetime of running prepared him for this final sprint.

His hair dangled in his face, but he never bothered to swipe it aside. The ponytail he tied up after his morning swim in Lake Vernon was loose, so with one quick grab, Jamie pulled out the holder and tossed it away. It felt natural. Perfect for the end.

Just before he raced up the final slope and broke into the sunlight, Jamie heard flowing water, and it sounded like the Alamander River. He saw the edge of a rapidly-flowing creek as he emerged from the brush. The water broke hard in a swirling dance around boulders, twinkling in the sunlight. As Jamie stepped close to the ten-foot ravine overlooking the water, a covey of birds scattered. He caught his breath and scanned the forest across the creek, which seemed to dip into a long, winding valley, only to reassert itself after a mile or so with taller hills than the one on which Jamie stood.

He didn’t want to die like so many that morning, staring into the face of their killer and perhaps, in their final breath, asking why. He wanted it to be quick and painless, and he wanted to