Chapter 28

Someone grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back down onto the couch. I found Special Agent Stevens sitting next to me with an intent expression and a hard-edged aura. He held a handgun in his left hand and stared at the window. “Don’t make a target of yourself,” he said in a low, steady voice.

I had no intention of being a target, but I couldn’t simply sit there and listen to his fellow agents get slaughtered.

He seemed to know what I was thinking, because he glanced at me and said, “We’re trained to do this.”

I shook my head. “You’re trained to die for someone you don’t know? That makes no sense.”

“Right now it doesn’t,” he said, “but it is what we do.”

And at that moment, I understood why the police do what they do. These FBI agents chose their careers, this kind of work, to protect me. The only difference was they had to work all over the country as opposed to a specific city or county. I nodded, willing to submit to his advice. I hoped he also understood that there may be moments when his advice wouldn’t help in the least.

Someone else screamed, and more gunshots went off. This had gone from an awful night to a horror movie. I was living in a slasher flick and the killer was out there upping his body count.

“That was close,” Hathaway said quietly. She was crouched next to the couch with her weapon drawn. Agent Cooke crouched next to the front door. He was as quiet as a ghost, and simply watched the door. All three were taking what was happening with absolute seriousness. Their attitudes only made the situation that much more real for me.

I had to protect myself, and as many agents - including Hathaway - as possible. I sat back on the couch, getting as comfortable as I could. A deep breath later, my eyes were closed and I focused on centering myself. To know what was going on, I needed to find Garret. If I could pinpoint his location, I could direct the agents there.

“What are you doing, Garret?” I thought. “I thought you were here for me.”

“You have a few too many guests, Ral. I must remove them.”

“They’re no threat to you,” I thought. “I’m the only one with a chance of stopping you.”

“You’re right, Ral,” he thought. “These are small deaths. Meaningless delays. Yours is the only death that will mean something, Ral.”

“If my death means so much,” I thought, and projected a mental picture of an agent shooting me in the back of the head, execution style.

“No!” he screamed in my head. Then I felt his fear. He wanted me so badly that he was terrified I might actually rob him of the power he could collect.

Someone else screamed. They were further away from the house. Then, over the radios, we heard, “Anyone who harms Ral will suffer a fate far worse than death.”

I felt, rather than saw, Agent Stevens look at his radio. “Who is this? Identify yourself.”

“It’s him,” I said aloud. “Garret Hendrickson.” Then I focused on Garret again. “Killing more agents won’t win you any friends, Garret.”

“I’m not here for friends, Ral. I’m here to take what is rightfully mine. I’m here for my powers.”

“They’re not yours, Garret,” I thought. “And I will not go down easily.”

I almost felt him smile when he thought, “I hope you don’t.”

Two more people screamed. Someone else tried to say something on the radio, but it cut out.

“That’s everyone outside, Ral.”

The front door flew open. Instinctively, I threw out my hand and forced the door shut again. I held it there and could feel something pushing from the other side.

“So much power. Such force. I will be unstoppable after your death, Ral.”

More gunshots went off outside. I heard Garret cry out and almost watched him twist the agent’s head around like he might twist a washcloth to wring it out. Garret was wounded, but not dead. I didn’t know how bad, but it wasn’t bad enough.

“I’m tired of this game, Ral,” he thought, and then something hit the side of the house.

I held the door in place, but the impact shattered the windows and attempted to cave in the walls. “Get back!” I yelled at the officers. Garret hit the wall over and over, and only when I thought he was done and I opened my eyes did I realize he had been using one of the parked cars to bash his way into the house.

Everyone in the room crouched behind me with their weapons trained on the door and openings.

I got off the couch, and flung it at the door to barricade it further. Then I pulled other heavy objects from the walls and piled them all up against the door.

Stevens swore under his breath, but Hathaway and Cooke remained silent. I didn’t care what they thought of me anymore. This was about survival. If we were lucky, I would be the only one dead come morning.

“You can’t keep me out forever, Ral.”

“Maybe not, but I’m going to make you work for every step you take.”

“Who needs to walk?” he asked in my head, and then it sounded like something was ripping metal apart.

I had been so focused on the front door that I never considered he might come in through one of the other walls - or the ceiling. Suddenly, it was raining in the house. I looked up only to find a giant hole where the ceiling should have been. It was too dark to see anything normally, but I could see his aura, and that terrified me more.

Garret, like any other Powerborne, had an aura made up of colored smoke that was backlit by the powers in him. His aura, which was pastel yellow, was as brilliant as a spotlight in the night. More than that, it didn’t simply float around him like everyone else’s auras. It had a core puff around his body, but there were also a number of tendrils reaching out to the house to hold him up, as if he were walking on octopus tentacle-like stilts.

One of the agents pulled at my sleeve, trying to get me to back away, but I had a different idea. I pulled from his grip and threw my hand up at Garret, using my telekinetic push to launch him back.

Garret flew back, but lashed out with his aura to catch the house and pull himself toward me again.

The agent grabbed me again and yanked me back, and then all three of them opened fire.

Garret didn’t seem bothered in the least by their bullets. The noise was deafening, but it didn’t affect him any more than the bullets.

More terrifying than anything, Garret was nothing more than a black shadow - just like what I saw in Bethany’s psionic notes. He was wraith made flesh, and I knew, if I survived, I would have nightmares about him for years.

The agents’ weapons emptied and they moved to reload. I took the opportunity to make my own attack by throwing the couch at Garret.

To my horror, one of Garret’s aura-tentacles caught the couch and tossed it at me.

I caught it, stopping it from slamming into me, but only barely. For a moment, the two of us struggled over the couch. It gave the agents all enough time to ready their weapons again.