The Impossible Future: Complete set Frank Kennedy (freenovel24 .TXT) 📖

scaled showed a patch of mud and moss with visible footprints.

Agatha wondered how many bullets the magazine held because all would be needed not only to kill Jamie but disrupt – if not outright destroy – the regenerative power of the Jewel. She would not have enough time to set his body ablaze and guarantee its incineration.

After all, the Shock Units had to be close now. She felt their presence. Although she never led a battalion that used these tools, her husband Augustus told her stories about those monsters, who were activated to crush ethnic insurgents when casualty numbers among peacekeepers became untenable. They cast a blanket of death before them, he said, and filled the air with the stench of rotted flesh, bringing a still, dry heat onto the land before they unleashed their weapons. They were known only to a few and left no witnesses to verify the horrors they committed.

The inevitability of her death was liberating. She made peace with the choices of her life, reaffirmed the morality that led her to defy the Chancellory itself, and took pride in what chaos she would bring once she disrupted their plans.

“A good life,” Agatha mumbled as she ran. “A meaningful life. I took a stand.”

Four minutes into her pursuit, she heard two rounds fired from an M16 well behind her. She realized Christian disobeyed her orders, yet she understood why. He was a young Chancellor who knew his world was ending. How much was he supposed to take?

“Almost,” Agatha whispered. “Almost there, James.”

64

C HRISTIAN SCOWLED AT Sammie as if she was vermin. She recognized his contempt and was surprised he hadn’t killed her despite his orders. She saw few opportunities for escape – until the keywords of her father’s training echoed through time. She knew what to do. Unfortunately, Michael interrupted her plans.

“You the one that shot me in the back like a coward?”

“Can’t say as I was, Cooper. Way I heard it, your coach had the honors.” Christian snickered. “Good ol’ Arthur must have been a sorry shot. Don’t matter. Couple of clean hits to the head will take you out. Or maybe you’d like the barrel down your throat? Twice in a day. What d’ya say?”

“You ain’t going to kill us, Bidwell. Mommy said to let us go. You ain’t figuring on going up against the Queen Bee, are you?”

Sammie wanted to tell Michael to shut up so she could act. Yet Christian never took an eye off her, even as he laid into Michael.

“Yeah. About that,” Christian said. “Mom thinks I’m a soldier. That I’ll do as she commands. But here’s the problem: All this shit, it’s coming to an end.” He glanced at his watch. “About twelve minutes, give or take. What I’m thinking is how I’m going to blow your brains out, take that sweet Caddy you drove over here, and get the hell out of Dodge before all this turns to shit. They’ll never find your bones way out here.”

“But you’ll be alone,” Sammie said. “And the police aren’t stupid. They’ll come after you eventually.”

“Good one, Sweet Bread. But no, I reckon not. You see, I know the coordinates for the fold. All of us knew after the Jewel activated. Got it on my phone. The fold is open for twenty-four hours at these coordinates. One Earth rotation. I’ll slip through and take my chances. At least I’ll be rid of Alabama rednecks.”

Michael balled his fists.

“You know something?” He told Christian. “I been hearing all kinds of wild stuff about these Chancellors, and seems to me they’re about the sorriest folks to come down the pike since … Fact is, Bidwell, you people wasted my best friend before he even had a chance to live his life. He never did a thing to hurt you or anybody else. He’s just trying to go out with some dignity. Why you need to pile on?”

Michael rose on one knee, and Christian stepped closer, aiming the rifle dead-square between Michael’s eyes. Sammie knew she couldn’t wait another second. She did the only thing she could think of.

“Wait,” she said, waving back Michael. “Christian. Please. I know you’re going to shoot us. Please. Let us do one thing first.”

Sammie dropped one hand to the ground for leverage and rose on both legs. Christian ordered her down.

“No, Christian. I am a Chancellor, too. My father told me there’s no shame in dying on my feet. But down there … please, Christian. Please let us stand before you kill us. Please.”

“You got some chops,” Christian said. “I’ll give you that. But you’re no Chancellor. You weren’t even born on the other side. Glad I never laid you, Sweet Bread. Don’t think you’d be much fun.” He glanced at Michael, who was still on his knees. “I can prove I’m better than either of you. Stand up, Cooper. I’ll do you first.”

“Do your best, tough guy,” Michael said. “Hell, I should’ve been dead once already today. You think I’m afraid of this? C’mon, Mr. Student Council President.” Michael pointed to the center of his forehead. “Right here, bud. Do me. Right now.”

Sammie knew those were the last words Michael might ever speak. Christian raised his weapon with a steeled determination. She had no choice. She listened to her father’s words and remembered the most demanding maneuvers he taught her. She prepared to use kwin-sho, a martial art hundreds of years old in the Collectorate.

Sammie allowed her brain to send a message to her limbs, freeing the bones and muscles of their natural limitations. She leaped off her left leg as if it were a rubber band, kicked out hard with her right and propelled her body in defiance of gravity just far enough to smack the barrel of the rifle. She tried to twist her body another half-rotation, just enough to level her