The Twelve Stones (17 page)

The
m
esa
wall was brightly lit
,
with
high powered
lamps
illuminating the workers’ tasks
. The heavy earth
-
moving equipment, now in place, had begun drilling into the ancient rock wall that thousands of climbers from around the world had once enjoyed.

Mighty dump trucks, some nearly two stories high, began marching their way back and forth, moving tons of rock and rubble
. The enormous drilling machine now moving into the mountain spat out more and more rubble for the trucks to move
.
U
nder the glare of the spotlights, bright enough to turn the night into noontime, Kline’s operation began carving its way into the heart of the mountain
.

The amount of money Rupert Kline was throwing at this operation might have operated a small country for a year.
In the time he’d worked for Kline, Geoffrey had learned
that if his boss wanted something badly enough, he got it. Geoffrey was only
t
here to make sure his operation went as smoothly as possible. If it did not, Geoffrey Tate would likely be the first to taste Kline’s rage, and that
he knew to avoid at all costs.

Chapter Fourteen

Scott led Alex into his apartment. It was strange
;
for a man thirty
-
two years of age
,
he still lived like a nineteen year old college freshman. Several neon signs lit a pool table with their blue, red and green
glow
in a room obviously designed for dining. A Kegerator in the living room sat next to an enormous overstuffed chair ottoman
,
which faced an obscenely large 52” LED TV.

“
Going for
the
understated look
,
are we?” Alex asked, bemused at his friend’s decorating taste.

“
I’ll admit that the place lacks a certain
…
” Scott paused
,
struggling for the right word, “woman’s touch…but it’s totally worth it
,
‘cause I can watch the Criterion edition of Terminator V in 12.1 surround sound anytime I want
,
and no one’s around to tell me to turn it down. Plus, I can have all the quality time I want with my Playstation. Chicks love the place
,
‘cause they all think they can change me.” Scott smiled, showing off for his friend
.
“It’s a catch
-
and
-
release sorta operation around here
,
you know?” Scott jabbed his elbow into his friend’s ribs
,
grinning broadly.

“
Truth game! Last time you got laid.” Alex challenged Scott, looking him in the eye. The truth game was a series of challenges raised between the two. The penalty for answering with anything other than the God's honest truth was a
C
harlie
horse, Indian burn or any other normal childhood torture device available to older brothers
.

Scott swallowed, “That’s not really the point I was trying to make…”

“
No, no, I totally get it; you’d rather eat cereal for dinner than have a decent, loving relationship. Good call on that.” Alex smiled
,
jabbing his friend back with his elbow.

While the banter between them had done some good in easing Alex’s nerves, Scott looked at his friend’s shirt and cried out in horror, making Alex jump.

“
Dude! You’re bleeding!” Scott cried out.

Alex looked
down. He wasn’t really injured.
T
he stone had taken care of that. The bullets from the station gunfight had torn several holes into his shirt, and the blood
had leaked all over his shirt before the wounds had healed
“
I’m fine
.
I’m not bleeding, but I could use a new shirt
,
if you’ve got one handy.”

Scott nodded, and quickly retreated to his bedroom
,
grabbing a shirt. Alex clutched the clothing, not putting it on just yet; he needed to tell Scott what happened.

“
How about that drink?” Scott asked
,
brandishing a bottle of amber liquid
.
“You look like hell.”

“
I feel like hell,” Alex admitted as he set the Pearl Jam t-shirt next to him on the couch.

Scott came back over to Alex
,
handing him his drink. Taking a sip of his own, Scott paused before looking Alex in the eye and asking the question that had been on his mind for the last five minutes of his friend’s miraculous
re
appearance.

“
Where ya been
,
Alex?” Scott asked lightly. “We’ve missed you around here.”

That seemed to shake Alex out of his reverie. “That’s a long and boring story compared to what happened to me tonight
in
the desert.” Alex leaned forward, suddenly charged with new energy. “We need to find out everything we can about a man who purchased some National Forest land today
.
H
e
murdered my father last night, er, I mean tonight, I mean, shoot
,
man…” Alex put his face into his hands. It was too much all at once, even for him.

“
Whoa, whoa whoa,” Scott said, “Take a drink and try again.”

Alex paused, and took a breath. Scott was right
.
H
e
needed to concentrate and tell the story right.

“
Someone with a lot of money and resources landed at the
m
esa
in Joshua Tree –
y
ou
remember, the one my father and I used to go to.”

Scott nodded, “Sure, 'Perry Mesa'
is what we called it
.
I remember.”

Alex snickered at the age old joke between the two friends. He shook it off. No time for that.

“
Some English guy landed and started ranting about purchasing the land we were on. Pops tried to talk some sense into him, but…” Alex trailed off, staring off into nowhere as he relived the memory, “he didn’t listen, didn’t say a word of warning
… H
e
just shot him. Dad didn’t even try anything. Didn’t seem to matter
,
though. Killed him right there.” Alex took another slug of Scott’s whiskey
, trying to numb the pain of his father’s death
. It burned all the way down
.

“
I’m assuming we’re not going to the police because of your…” Scott hesitated, “former status?”

“
I tried the police and got a cop killed,” Alex replied, his voice curt. “If we call the police right now, they’ll ask me questions that I don’t have the answers to.”

“
Questions like what?” Scott asked, his patience beginning to wane from the lack of information flowing from his friend right now. “You come to see me for the first time in six years in the middle of the night with some story about your father being killed and I’m supposed to listen to you and not call the cops?”

“
Scott, I need you to calm down,” Alex said, “I came to you because I knew you would understand and remember.”

“
Remember what?” Scott asked
,
frustrated at his friend’s ambiguity.

“
This.”

Alex held out the stone his father had given him only a few short hours ago. It looked black as night, the smooth stone shining in the white fluorescent light from Scott’s kitchen.

“
I remember this,” Scott began slowly, the anger draining from his face as the memory slowly returned. “This is the stone you found the day I fell out of the tree.”

Alex nodded. He left it up to Scott to put the rest of the pieces together.

“
You came over,” Scott paused as the thin strands of memory began to come together, “you touched me, and I got better.” Scott shook his head, rubbing his eyes. “No, that can’t be right, I was lucky. I was a rubbery kid.”

“
No you weren’t,” Alex replied, “my dad must have known this stone is what cured you. It was this stone. He knew that
,
and he tried to tell me what it was before the man…killed him.” Alex’s throat caught. It was a punch to the gut every time he mentioned the story.

“
Alex,” Scott said, “I’m sorry about your father, but we need to call the police. Cops are there for a reason
,
you know
?
”

Alex looked up sharply at his best friend; apparently
,
it would take a more dramatic presentation for his friend to swallow the particular brand of Kool
-
Aid he was hawking. Taking the stone back from Scott, he walked over to the kitchen and withdrew a dangerous looking butcher’s knife from the drawer.

Before Scott could protest, Alex jammed the knife into his
own
right
forearm
,
cutting into it deep. Blood rushed out of his wound, and Scott gasped in horror at what Alex had done. Scrambling for a kitchen towel, he moved to help Alex stop the blood from flowing freely out of his arm.

“
What the hell are you doing? Are you nuts?” Scott screamed as he rushed over to help.

Alex held up his hand, with the chain of the necklace dangling out between his knuckles.
As he w
ithdr
ew
the knife, the blood rushed out and onto the floor
–
but
,
to Scott’s incredulous eyes, only a few drips of the red blood escaped into the free fall of gravity. The soft blue glow surrounded
Alex’s
arm, healing the wound instantly without a trace of trauma. Scott’s queasiness subsided as he watched the glow heal his friend’s self-inflicted wound. The
muscle and skin knit together
,
as if nothing had torn it asunder only moments before
,
and soon there was nothing but smooth skin once again.

“
Tada!” Alex said sarcastically.

For a moment, Scott didn’t, couldn’t reply. Alex placed the knife back down on the kitchen counter and decided to wait for his friend to reboot. Once he did, they could move on.

“
Well,” Scott cleared
his throat, “that’s a new trick.
”

Alex turned, rubbing his temples, and collapsed back on Scott’s overstuffed chair.

“
Tell me about it.” Alex leaned back
,
exhausted.

“
Have you learned the water
-
into
-
wine trick yet?” Scott attempted to joke
.
“
’
Cause I’m thinking we’re gonna need some more alcohol.”

Alex shook his head and opened his palm. The glow surrounding his arm retreated back into the stone
,
leaving it with a duller sheen than before. Alex looked up at his friend as if to say, “Your move.”

“
All right, so, umm...” Scott struggled to come up with something. “As difficult as it would be to let my mind swallow what I just saw, tell me more about what happened to you. Start again from the beginning.”

Alex recounted the events of the last twenty-four hours as the facts burst out of him, the story sometimes flying too fast for Scott to follow. For the most part, he sat there stoic, silent, and interjecting only a question or two for clarity
.
Alex narrated
everything f
rom his arrival at his father’s house,
and
the impromptu trip to the desert, to his father’s murder and the incredible shootout at the Sheriff’s station
.
W
hen
he was finished, Alex felt as if a great load had been lifted from his shoulders.

“…
And that’s pretty much it up until I decided to find you.”

Alex watched his friend
,
who had turned progressively greener as the story went on. Scott stood, walked over to his well
-
stocked wet bar, poured himself a shot
,
and drank it quickly.

“
Scott?”

Scott held up a finger as he finished swallowing his first shot. Pouring another, he drank the second quicker than the first. Exhaling softly, Scott turned to his friend and nodded his head.