beyond and down into the tomb.
Jason guided the others to the fence just east of the gate. Duncan levitated the group, litter and all, over the razor wire. Two helicopters rose into the sky, searchlights skittering over the ground. The Cloak would protect the Clan from being spotted if Jason could maintain it all the way out to the Land Rover. His powers had grown but they weren’t unlimited.
The small party strode into the sparse grasses that covered the plain. They headed down to the ravine. Shouts from multiple throats rose behind them. The shouts became a wail. Guess they’d just discovered their loss.
The helicopters were making a circle directly overhead by the time they got to the Range Rover. Jason wouldn’t be able to hold the Cloak forever.
“Rick,” Morgan said. She sounded calm. “You take that one.” She pointed. “I’ll take the other.” She popped up a channel of light from the Wand and cast it at the copter as it passed overhead. The belly of the beast exploded. It slowly fell away from them. The wind kicked up a metallic-smelling dust storm. Jason covered his mouth and nose with his arm. The dust nearly blinded him to the fireball the helicopter became as it hit the ground. Several thuds shook the ground nearby. He looked up as a body screamed passed him and hit the ground.
The second helicopter was gone. A last screaming soldier fell from the rust cloud that was all that was left of his ride. Rick’s eyes gleamed with excitement at using his power.
“Get Khan here in the Rover,” he said to Duncan. Morgan was already weaving over to the shotgun seat, her power temporarily spent. He looked around at the havoc they had caused.
Stand in the Clan’s way at your peril , he thought.
CHAPTER FOUR
‡
Lan waited in the shadows of the alley. He’d parked his bike in the shadows between dumpsters that gave off smells of old food and kitchen grease. He’d been getting more and more wound up, waiting in the darkness for that hack band to leave the stage. The music in his head had gotten positively painful. Come on, you’re not U2. You’ve tortured them enough already.
But now was his time. The music inside roared to a close. The bandleader announced they were taking a break. Lan slid out of the shadows and through the parking lot of Diamondback to the front. No line tonight. The velvet ropes formed an empty aisle that led to the dark door. Probably because everyone was sure he wouldn’t show, since he’d been here last night. House music spilled onto the sidewalk.
He saw the beefy bouncer recognize him. The guy’s eyes widened in surprise and he elbowed his partner. “It’s him. I thought he never—”
“Ghost,” the other guy said. “Didn’t expect you back so soon.”
“You telling me to leave?” They were still blocking his way.
“No, no, course not.” They stepped aside. Damn right. They wanted him in, where he could give customers the right to feed off the energy of his music like vampires in some addictive cycle. He flung pain into the crowd. They consumed it and recycled it into adoration.
Lan pushed into the club. Both guys were talking to their earpieces. Spread the news, boys.
The joint was half-empty. Tables crammed together so tightly that the servers could hardly move between them made the place look sad, like the geeky guy who dropped names to conceal the fact he didn’t have friends. Lan didn’t want much of an audience tonight. Why scar more people than necessary with the music he was likely to make?
Speaking of scars, the guy at the end of the bar had a doozy slashing down across his face. He was sitting partly in shadows, but Lan couldn’t help feeling he was familiar. Had he seen him at Magma the other night? Or maybe last week at Flash? Some losers spent their lives at the clubs. Like he didn’t.
The lights on stage were harsher than necessary. Every available surface seemed to be covered with faux snakeskin. No one was dancing, though a couple of
Jason guided the others to the fence just east of the gate. Duncan levitated the group, litter and all, over the razor wire. Two helicopters rose into the sky, searchlights skittering over the ground. The Cloak would protect the Clan from being spotted if Jason could maintain it all the way out to the Land Rover. His powers had grown but they weren’t unlimited.
The small party strode into the sparse grasses that covered the plain. They headed down to the ravine. Shouts from multiple throats rose behind them. The shouts became a wail. Guess they’d just discovered their loss.
The helicopters were making a circle directly overhead by the time they got to the Range Rover. Jason wouldn’t be able to hold the Cloak forever.
“Rick,” Morgan said. She sounded calm. “You take that one.” She pointed. “I’ll take the other.” She popped up a channel of light from the Wand and cast it at the copter as it passed overhead. The belly of the beast exploded. It slowly fell away from them. The wind kicked up a metallic-smelling dust storm. Jason covered his mouth and nose with his arm. The dust nearly blinded him to the fireball the helicopter became as it hit the ground. Several thuds shook the ground nearby. He looked up as a body screamed passed him and hit the ground.
The second helicopter was gone. A last screaming soldier fell from the rust cloud that was all that was left of his ride. Rick’s eyes gleamed with excitement at using his power.
“Get Khan here in the Rover,” he said to Duncan. Morgan was already weaving over to the shotgun seat, her power temporarily spent. He looked around at the havoc they had caused.
Stand in the Clan’s way at your peril , he thought.
CHAPTER FOUR
‡
Lan waited in the shadows of the alley. He’d parked his bike in the shadows between dumpsters that gave off smells of old food and kitchen grease. He’d been getting more and more wound up, waiting in the darkness for that hack band to leave the stage. The music in his head had gotten positively painful. Come on, you’re not U2. You’ve tortured them enough already.
But now was his time. The music inside roared to a close. The bandleader announced they were taking a break. Lan slid out of the shadows and through the parking lot of Diamondback to the front. No line tonight. The velvet ropes formed an empty aisle that led to the dark door. Probably because everyone was sure he wouldn’t show, since he’d been here last night. House music spilled onto the sidewalk.
He saw the beefy bouncer recognize him. The guy’s eyes widened in surprise and he elbowed his partner. “It’s him. I thought he never—”
“Ghost,” the other guy said. “Didn’t expect you back so soon.”
“You telling me to leave?” They were still blocking his way.
“No, no, course not.” They stepped aside. Damn right. They wanted him in, where he could give customers the right to feed off the energy of his music like vampires in some addictive cycle. He flung pain into the crowd. They consumed it and recycled it into adoration.
Lan pushed into the club. Both guys were talking to their earpieces. Spread the news, boys.
The joint was half-empty. Tables crammed together so tightly that the servers could hardly move between them made the place look sad, like the geeky guy who dropped names to conceal the fact he didn’t have friends. Lan didn’t want much of an audience tonight. Why scar more people than necessary with the music he was likely to make?
Speaking of scars, the guy at the end of the bar had a doozy slashing down across his face. He was sitting partly in shadows, but Lan couldn’t help feeling he was familiar. Had he seen him at Magma the other night? Or maybe last week at Flash? Some losers spent their lives at the clubs. Like he didn’t.
The lights on stage were harsher than necessary. Every available surface seemed to be covered with faux snakeskin. No one was dancing, though a couple of
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