Big Three-Thriller Bundle Box Collection (36 page)

All of it is baffling.

I decide a different course, to travel forward from this time, to see if there might be a better opportunity to change the future, find what influenced Xiang to become so uncaring of human life and perhaps sway him from his course of darkness and death.

But then, I feel a presence beside me and turn to see the beautiful apparition who welcomed me the first time.

She directs her lovely gaze at me, and I hear her voice inside my head, her lips unmoving. “You have many choices
— they are infinite. Few mortals are privileged with such ability — only the wise. For without wisdom, knowing that to alter the past will change destiny itself, the resultant future might be worse than destiny’s true course. To make even a small adjustment can create great changes to the future — to destiny. A smile not given to an angry man might lead to the death of an entire race. Kindness given a starving dog could result in a world of complete peace and harmony a century later. You must choose wisely. A hasty act could create a paradox — change the future to where you will never be born. Without your birth, you would not be able to change the past, and your existence and the memory of you will be erased from the universal Matrix — you will never have been.”

This notion Moonfeather imparts is unthinkable, confusing, frightening. A simple change in the past, the throwing of a stone, can be devastating to the world two hundred years later.

Chapter 37

I felt someone shaking me, my body being jostled, and when I looked up I saw Jax frowning down on me.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I was lying on the ground near the tunnel. “Yeah,” I said, my thoughts still swirling.

Rajiv suddenly was hovering over me. He checked my eyes and my pulse. “This man leaves consciousness more often than anyone I have ever met or studied. We must have him treated for narcolepsy.”

“I’m fine,” I told him. “Help me up.”

“You’re hurt,” Jax said as he, Rajiv and Chief Dailey helped me stand.

I followed his gaze and remembered my wound
— had not felt pain from it until now as I looked at the dark, blood-soaked spot on my side. I peeled back the body armor and Rajiv stuck his face close to my injury.

After a careful inspection, he said, “It has clotted very nicely. It seems only to be a flesh wound, and I am greatly relieved.”

“Me, too,” I said as I looked down at the jumbo jets on the airfield.

“You should not twist your body for some time and we must dress this injury soon.”

Jax said, “I’ll get the Med Kit.”

“No time for that, now,” I said as the first passenger jet began taxiing behind Xiang’s smaller plane. “The 747s. They’re our only hope.” I broke for the helicopter and the others jogged behind me.

Jax and I reached the open cargo bay at the same time. He said, “Even if we can stop them from taking off now, pack some of these people in, they’ll carry maybe four hundred and fifty, five hundred people each, max.”

“And leave three thousand behind,” I said absently. I met his eyes. “We’ve got to do that much.”

Dailey arrived panting and spoke into his radio, “Prater, turn everybody around. Get ‘em headed back to Biotronics. We got us some free airfare and first class seats.”

“And what about my troupe?” I asked, motioning to the three-hundred-plus thoughtless followers.

Jax turned to one of his men next to the chopper. “Clark, lead them to the runway.”

The young man nodded to the major and ran back to the large group.

I cupped my hands and called out, “Follow him,” and I pointed to their new leader.

In a few seconds the entire group began their three-quarter-mile trek down the narrow paved road to the airstrip. I couldn’t help but compare them to a cult group of some kind, dressed in white hospital garb following a man in black body armor.

Jax vaulted into the side door of the helicopter and Sarge followed him. “But we still have to get those people to the plane, and the Biotronics side of this tunnel is blocked. Our acoustic cannon made quite a mess of the entire building.”

Dailey said, “The tunnel’s the only way from town down to that airstrip.” He gazed downhill and seemed to have an epiphany. “There’s a bulldozer parked beside the main hanger down there. If I can get to it, maybe I’ll be able to clear the tunnel.”

“Then, if that works,” Jax said, “we’ll have the solemn task of turning away over three-fourths of them.” He held out his hand to assist Dailey, Rajiv and me into the chopper.

“We’ll find a way, Jax,” I said, not convinced myself.

Dailey asked, “But what about Xiang? Since he’s seen your chopper, he’ll be skidaddling pronto.”

Jax glanced down at the airstrip. “Looks like they’re taxiing to two different, parallel runways. If we try to stop the first jumbo, he’ll be gone before we can get to him. We can’t knock him down
— the acoustic weapon’s power supply is depleted, and so’s the EMP — wouldn’t cook a transistor at two feet.” He glanced at the machine gun. “We’re even out of live rounds for our fifty caliber.”

I said, “Leave Xiang to me.”

“No,” Jax said. “Absolutely not, sir!”

I turned my back on him, dropped from the doorway and walked briskly toward the desert patrol vehicle.

“Damn it,” he said and gave in. He called out, “All right, then. Sanders and Finney are with the DPV. Tell ‘em to go with you.” I looked over my shoulder and gave him a thumbs up. Jax frowned back, then nodded to the pilot and the big helicopter’s engines sparked to life, its huge rotor starting to slowly turn.

“Hang on, son,” Chief Dailey said, his heavy footfalls hustling up from behind. “I’ll help ya. We’ll make short work of Xiang and then you can take me to the dozer.”

As Jax and the helicopter lifted, Sarge leapt to the ground from the open doorway. He ran toward the tunnel.

Sampson called out, “Sarge! Get back here, boy.”

“No time for that, now,” Jax said. “Too many lives in the balance. He can find his own way down to the runway.”

The helicopter rose until the heavy cable attached to the ambulance became taut, and they hovered directly above it. Then they took off, slowly at first, but accelerated rapidly with the van swaying underneath. They headed for the airstrip where the first jumbo jet now began its takeoff run.

Dailey and I were sprinting, about halfway to the DPV, when my fast-forward double vision returned. I figured it came to me instinctively, some sort of defensive measure from my subconscious. In the ghost view, I saw Wu step up from behind a bush on one side of the trail. My premonition startled me, and I stopped in my tracks as I continued to view it. Wu gave me one of his intense stares, and with the element of surprise, I had no time to defend myself. I folded to my knees and quickly fell dead.

The future view evaporated from before my eyes and in the present view, I saw the two soldiers who had been guarding the DPV. They lay twisted, and most likely dead, beside it.

Dailey caught up to me and I grabbed his shoulder. “Stay back, Chief,” I said, then cautiously proceeded, hoping he’d understand the danger and obey.

A few yards later, I came upon the bush I’d seen in my premonition and focused on it as I approached. I counted on getting the jump on Wu this time, gain the upper hand.

Twenty feet in front of me, he stepped out as I’d expected. He looked surprised that I’d already brought my energy to bear on him, the top of my spine tingling, sharp pains stabbing my temples. I could think of nothing else but to fake him out, to “psych” him.

As he glared at me, his returned force caused a burning from inside of me, and the energy between us increased. I held the heels of my hands out in front of me and advanced toward him. Blood trickled from his nose, then from mine. I gave him a karate yell and pedaled my arms. His eyes widened from my display of BS, and momentarily, I thought I had him.

But the intense heat of his power soon grew overwhelming. The ground around us trembled. We came to within eight feet of each other and stopped. I felt the dominance of power shift to his side and he smiled. His force became too great, as I was driven to one knee.

“Who are you to think you can overpower me?” he said, standing with his hands on his hips like some kind of comic book super villain.

I knew it would be a split second before I would topple over dead. I could not move my lips to even curse him. Then, I thought of Sunny — I didn’t know why. I felt not only a great sorrow build inside of me, but also a matching anger. It was Dr. Xiang and Wu’s fault Sunny was dead — as well as the hundreds of others who had died and would soon die. I wanted to call him a bastard, wanted to wrap my hands around his neck and watch him die — make him die. But I felt my consciousness dwindling, the earth beneath me seeming to spin as his words echoed inside my head:
Who are you to think you can overpower me?

Then, the last entity in the world I would have ever expected popped into my thoughts
— Harvey. But his presence did not distract me this time, he did not harass me with his comments, try to persuade me one way or another. This time Harvey’s presence seems to bring with it an incredible energy, refueling and adding to my own. I thought of Sunny again and my anger built with a new resolve. I finally was able to strain out an answer to Wu’s question.

“I’m . . . Superman,” I blurted, then reached into my pocket, pulled out Sunny’s .32 caliber pistol and put her last bullet between his eyes.

The speed and finality of the action stunned even me as Wu fell backward onto the ground with incredible surprise on his face.

I pocketed Sunny’s empty pistol. It would be my only souvenir of her. And now for Xiang. I went to the DPV.

“Hot damn,” Chief Dailey said, trotting sideways by Wu’s body, gaping at him in amazement. “Hot damn, that was slick. You don’t mess around, do ya, son?”

I checked Major Jax’s two men. They were both dead.

Below us the first 747 turned onto a strip parallel to Xiang’s plane, both planes taxiing on the other end of the airfield. Jax’s helo was speeding toward the first jumbo jet, as planned. If we could get through the rugged terrain about six hundred yards to our right before Xiang took off, he’d fly directly over us. I fired up the DPV as Dailey swung into the passenger’s side, and we shot off through the snow and rough landscape toward the spot Xiang was sure to pass over.

We’d covered considerable ground when Dr. Xiang’s jet began its takeoff run, a mile on the opposite end of the strip. It approached, gaining speed. I stopped the DPV about halfway downhill from the tunnel as we came in line with the jet’s departure, and I got out.

“Stay here, Chief,” I said, and he complied as I jogged away.

Seventy-five feet from our vehicle, I stood in the open and waited. Below, I could see Jax’s big rotorcraft landing directly in front of the first 747. He had it and the second jumbo jet pinned in.

About two-thirds of the way down the airstrip, Xiang’s smaller jet left the tarmac and gained altitude sharply to avoid the rocky slope we were on.

*  *  *

As I focus my energy, the double vision returns. I see inside the jet in the phantom view. This time, I realize both visions are real time, the same time but different space. The first, opaque view, is from my own physical eyes. The phantom view is a close up, a peek from inside the cockpit.

But I suddenly find myself embodied inside the plane, standing behind Xiang as he watches the ground over the pilots’ shoulders. Time shifts to slow motion again, and no one seems aware of me inside the plane. I look at my hands and forearms and they are translucent, phosphorescent. My body seems to have become pure energy. But looking past Xiang, I see myself on the approaching hillside, and I realize my ability to remote view has transcended another step.

My point of view shifts instantaneously back to the ground to my physical body. My spine, the base of my head tingle again.

Suddenly, back in the plane, I move around Xiang, passing through the copilot’s body and seat, and I turn back to glare at Xiang. He jerks his head back and his eyes widen with panic.

“Impossible,” he whispers.

I smile at him. “This might hurt,” I say, and back out of the cockpit to the nose of the plane, only my glowing, phantomlike head protruding inside through the windscreen.

The pilots’ faces contort, and Xiang hunches over in pain between their seats.

My conscience shifts back to the ground, sharp pains bolt through my temples as the small jet flies nearer, now only two hundred yards away.

Seeing inside the plane again, Xiang’s face grimaces incredibly as he stares at me, my ghostly being.

Shifting back to the hillside, the hurt grows stronger, radiates throughout my skull.

In the plane, Xiang’s hands claw at his temples from the terrible pain. I move inside the cockpit once again, toward Xiang. He reaches out, grabs for me angrily, and his hand passes through my phantomlike body.

On the hillside, static electricity builds around me as if I am a giant glass rod, and I feel the energy from the very ground I stand on as it courses through my legs. I smell ozone before blood spurts from my nose. The force builds inside my chest and upper body as if my trunk were a huge capacitor, storing an intense power.

Suddenly, violently, the center of my body jolts, releasing a discharge of electricity, flashing like a lightning strike to the jet.

Inside the plane, Xiang screams in anguish, and my self-apparition pops like a bubble, disappearing from the cockpit, and my double vision melds together.

In that instant, I fall limply onto the ground as Xiang’s jet torches above me. A hundred yards uphill, it spirals into the mountainside in a conflagration of flames, sparks and streamers.

*  *  *

I lay, sprawled out on scrub brush, my head foggy, spinning. From behind, I heard the chief’s rapid footfalls. The chief came quickly to my side and helped me up. I felt drained, my body limp and uncooperative from exhaustion after such terrific spending of energy.

“You are one bad mutha, ain’t you?” he said, leading me by the arm. “Now we gotta get down to the airfield so I can get that dozer.”

At the DPV, Dailey got behind the wheel. As my head cleared, he busted the tires loose, and we set off wildly down the slope.

“Chief,” I said, “what are hundreds of American POWs
— or MIAs — doing here?”

“Don’t you get it, boy? This whole town ain’t nothin’ but a farce. Xiang made this place over thirty-five years ago. Brought all of us to it, all the POWs
— many of us MIAs. He had the perfect plan. We’d work for him and not try’n escape. In return, he’d give us a home, a wife, a job and let us raise a family as near to what we had back home as possible, maybe even better in a lot of ways.”