Watchtowers : Water Read online

  She ran toward the pub. Since the tsunami, she hadn’t put such stress on her injured leg. She’d been assured it had healed perfectly, but had it?

  Breathing hard, she crossed the street and neared the corner of O’Connell and Thomas. Michael was behind her, but her lead on the big man diminished. Her heart pounded and her throat burned. Sweat poured from her face. She smelled her fear.

  No! She had to get away, had to confront Amidurah and bring him down.

  *****

  Zion swam away from Kilkee into Moore Bay and down to Loop Head. Dolphins accompanied him through the warm waters. He paddled frantically. Frustration ate at his heart. Where was Keely?

  The waters near the coast usually warmed him. Not today. He couldn’t shake the chill that coated him like crude oil. He swam faster, harder.

  Occasionally, he’d receive a message Keely had been seen manipulating the water of a river or inlet. Her trail zigzagged around the coast of Ireland. There seemed no pattern to her locations nor her timing.

  Zion headed back north, toward Kilkee. Perhaps she’d headed home by now. Maybe she’d gone even further north. He passed a devastated Smerwick Harbour, sliced through the waters of Tralee Bay, and rounded Kerry Head into the mouth of the Shannon River.

  Every coast suffered. Some more than others. In the narrower ends of bays the devastation was complete. Near Kerry Head he gained the first news of major importance.

  A gray dolphin informed him Amidurah was headed to Shannon.

  “Why?”

  His clicks and whistles alarmed Zion. The interpretation was not good. Amidurah had come to Ireland to seek the murderer of his assistant.

  “How did this person die?”

  More agitated sounds assaulted his ears. This time his understanding conveyed worse news. “Water broke back.”

  Water breaking a person’s back only meant one thing to Zion. Someone used the water as a weapon. Amidurah would only perform such a feat in order to further his goals and achieve some degree of notoriety. Zion knew it hadn’t been him, leaving only one logical conclusion. Keely.

  The sorcerer had managed to trace her to southwestern Ireland. Suddenly, the erratic patterns of her practice schedule made sense. She knew her activity would attract Amidurah. Keely was on the run.

  “Thank you friend. Do you know where she is now?”

  “Lady in glass city.”

  Zion puzzled out the final statement. The only glass city he thought of wasn’t made of glass, it created crystal. Keely had gone to Waterford on the southeastern side of the country. He had a small window of opportunity to find her before Amidurah did. “Stay aware friend. There is trouble coming. Send word if you hear from the lady.”

  The dolphin slapped his flipper on the top of the water and dove beneath, a flash of gray that disappeared with haste.

  Zion remembered her anger at the man responsible for the death of her parents. Her indignation at Amidurah for intentionally willing the disaster. Her arbitrary practicing, her unpredictable movements, the death of Amidurah’s assistant combined with the revelation of the sorcerer being in Shannon only meant one thing.

  Keely was going after Amidurah. She was in way over her head. Zion knew she didn’t truly appreciate the power the ancient sorcerer wielded.

  If he didn’t get to her soon enough, Keely Shane would be dead.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Keely ran as hard as she could across the rutted road, her bag banging against her hip. Her breath hitched in her chest and her throat burned. Each step toward the bike jarred through her feet and into her legs. Her thigh contracted painfully. The stabbing agony was her fault. She’d been in too much of a hurry to properly rehabilitate the damaged thigh muscle.

  Her impatience cost her. She could feel the stress on the injury and each grueling step on the leg threatened to hobble her. But, her jet bike was almost in reach. She prayed the leg would last those last few meters.

  Behind her, she heard Michael’s breathing. The rasping sound buoyed her spirit. If she could endure, she’d push the stranger aside and take off a mere hair ahead of her pursuer.

  The muted, indistinct noise of the pub grew louder. The bright red door concealing the blue-gray, smoke-filled room loomed closer. “You there, get away from my bike.”

  The engine of the jet bike idled. The man straightened and turned around.

  Keely’s eyes widened. Somehow, Thane Denton had found her. “You?”

  “Hop on; I don’t think we want to discuss this with your buddy.”

  The jet bike roared into action and Denton drove off.

  Keely chased the bike thankful the exploit made her interpretation of a theft more plausible. She hopped on the back, wrapped an arm around Denton’s waist and swung at him with her free fist as if she were trying to dissuade him from taking the bike.

  Denton gunned the engine before Michael had a chance to confront them. He made a quick right turn around the corner, and then two blocks later a left. Anyone pursing them would have a difficult time following the circuitous trail Denton wove.

  The number of business establishments thinned, replaced by ecologically sound homes masked as peasant style huts, circa 1800. Even those dwindled until they were among the hills, restored to their ancient forested state.

  Denton slowed, stopped the jet bike on the green shoulder of the road, and allowed the engine to idle. “What were you doing with your pal?”

  “How did you find me?”

  He got off the vehicle and looked her directly in the eye. “I asked first.”

  She met his cold gaze with her own fiery one. Anger bubbled inside her. How dare this stranger intrude on her life! Keely mirrored his movement and swung her leg over the bike, keeping it between him and her. Her feet landed in soft grass.

  She furrowed her brows. The half-open lids of her eyes barely contained her rage. “I’ve had a change of heart since I saw you last.”

  His gaze tore away from hers. “What?”

  She held back the smile of satisfaction she had at shocking him. If only Zion could see how she bested this overly righteous bastard. “I’m looking for Amidurah.”

  “You seem to have somewhat succeeded.”

  “I would have ended this once and for all, if you hadn’t interfered.”

  He snarled at her. “I saved your life. That man was one of Amidurah’s lieutenants.”

  The rage she’d fought escaped the confines of her mouth. “That man was going to take me to Amidurah, and would have if I hadn’t seen you monkeying around with my bike.”

  Thane stepped closer, his leg brushing against the engine housing. “What do you mean you’ve had a change of heart?”

  This time she leaned over the bike, into Denton’s space, and smiled. “I’ve been convinced I have some small ability to counteract Amidurah’s water power. His senseless destruction of the innocent must be stopped. I’m the woman for the job.”

  She straightened and let the full implication of her words sink in. Maybe while he was flummoxed he’d give her answer to her own question. She kept her voice evenly modulated and reseated herself on the bike. “How did you find me?”

  Denton ran a hand over the stubble on his chin and paced. “I stuck a simple electronic tracker on the bike behind the tail light.”

  She took a deep breath of cool air and let it leave her lungs in a hot, unnaturally slow whoosh. The air lifted wayward strands of her red hair off her forehead. She repeated the action several times until she felt in command of her emotions.

  Denton wasn’t the enemy, but she sure as hell couldn’t trust him either. The placement of the tracker was all the proof she needed. Yet if it hadn’t been for Denton, she wouldn’t have had a getaway from whatever Michael planned to do with her because of the slip of Doubilet’s name.

  She revved the engine for the hydrogen energy release that would take her away from him, hopefully for good. “The way I see it, you have two choices. You can walk back to town and face Michael and his ma
tes, or I can give you a lift to the next town.”

  He returned to the bike. “You’re playing with fire, Keely.”

  The corners of her mouth lifted in a large smile. “No, Mr. Denton, I’m playing with water.”

  *****

  Sloshing out of the River Suir and hauling himself up a rickety dock did nothing to improve Zion’s mood. He’d swam frantically for hours and skirted the southern coast of Ireland in order to get to Waterford. A cold wind blew across his wet skin and he shivered. The chill did nothing to cool the twin spears of worry and anger. “Okay, Keely, where the hell are you?”

  Zion stalked the length of the quay looking for some confirmation to the intel the gray dolphin had given him. He turned left at Bridge Street and headed back east on O’Connell.

  He hiked a block when he heard a commotion. His heart thumped hard in his chest and he sprinted toward the noise.

  A man and a woman ran toward a bright yellow jet bike. He recognized the bike, the man climbing onto it, and the woman running toward the bike. Zion’s gut twisted.

  Thane Denton raced away, with Keely in hot pursuit. He ran harder. Keely had too much of a head start. Gasping for air, he stopped near the man she’d been running with.

  “Fuckin’ cunt. She’s the one as murdered Doubilet!”

  Strike that. Keely must have been running from the brute next to him. Zion’s hands fisted. Next to catching Keely, nothing would please him more than letting this foul mouthed swine swallow a few of his own teeth. A fistfight though, wouldn’t help him get to her any quicker.

  Right now, he needed to find a conveyance so he could follow them. Taking a deep breath, he slowly exhaled, and strolled away from Keely’s latest acquaintance.

  *****

  She could see Denton wasn’t happy about being dropped in Portlaw, a hamlet of a town that never quite recovered from the last economic depression.

  “Don’t leave me here, Keely. You can’t do this alone.”

  “The hell I can’t.” Keely mentally counted to five. She was too angry to go as high as ten. “You do what you have to, Denton. But, get this straight. I’m not some dog and pony show and I am not on EPA payroll. You don’t own me, never will.”

  The strength of command oozed through Denton’s voice. “Don’t go. You need support. I’ll back you.”

  She shook her head. Loose strands of hair fell across her cheeks, irritating her further. Keely didn’t care what Denton thought, what level of command he presumed he had. He was government and she’d dealt with enough bureaucrats in her life to know they weren’t one hundred percent trustworthy.

  There was something about him, maybe his secretive nature that set her nerves on edge. He’d just have to deal, call his EPA buddies, Jade and Raiden. When she’d seen them on the beach, all she’d focused on was her negative past Raiden thoughtlessly tossed at her. Denton only saw her power as a weapon. Nope the EPA was definitely not to be completely trusted.

  Keely wasn’t about to be a weapon of destruction. Her stomach painfully clenched thinking of the way she caused Doubilet’s death. She’d not be used by an “agency” to deliver such punishment over and over to whomever they deemed politically deserving.

  “I don’ think so, Denton. You handle Amidurah your way and I’ll handle him mine.”

  Denton slammed his hands onto the handle of the jet bike and nearly knocked her from her seat. “You don’t get it. You are the way I’m handling things.”

  The fragile hold on her temper snapped. She shot her hand forward and gripped Denton’s wrist, pulled his hand off her bike, and sent his arm jerking toward his chest. She recaptured the handle in her palm. “You’re not getting the picture. You don’t own me. I’m doing this without you.”

  She revved the bike, engaged the accelerator, and shot off, leaving her adversary inhaling the dust kicked up by the vehicle.

  A kilometer or so down the road, Keely came to the next small berg. Portlaw too, reflected the aftereffects of the tsunami, albeit the visible evidence was not nearly as destructive as the waves that struck the west coast.

  She crossed the Suir Bridge into Fiddown and kept to the north side of the river. Only a few sections of the road this far inland showed where an unexpected wave of water had crested the riverbanks and flooded onto the highway. The scant mud left light ripples of tan sand and dirt in dried-out patterns on the road.

  N24 would lead her to Luimneach. Outside the city, she’d jettison the bright yellow bike, walk into town, and purchase a different vehicle. She patted her green jumpsuit and assured herself her new identity card that would enable her purchase was in the sealed pocket.

  Keely stopped in Tipperary a while later and grabbed a bite to eat before she resumed her trek. The syn-food dispensed through a vending machine in small, bite-sized squares assuaged her hunger, but not her appetite for something more appealing.

  She purchased a biodegradable bottle of vitamin-filled water and climbed back on the bike. With only forty-five kilometers or so to Luimneach, a reasonably full stomach, and Thane Denton long behind her, Keely released her finger-numbing grip on the handle and relaxed.

  Rushing air blasted beneath her sweaty hands. She shivered and bent her head forward, enjoying the stream of ventilation cooling her. Momentarily freeing a hand, she unzipped her jumpsuit to allow her cleavage the same refreshment. The thought of a bath, or even a skinny dip to wash the day’s disgusting events from her skin appealed to her inner woman.

  Soon. Soon, she’d confront Amidurah, kick his ancient ass, and find a place to collapse. Exhaustion, combined with the trauma her body had been through the past few days convinced her, more effectively than Thane Denton, to wait.

  Each jolt in the road sent her leg into muscle-tightening spasms. Keely stifled a moan, followed by a yawn with the back of her hand, fighting the lassitude that relentlessly pursued her.

  A pale, shadowed glow from the moon replaced the radiance of the sun. Every hedge took an ominous color, shadows stretching onto the road. If her calculations had been correct, she wasn’t far from the light of Luimneach, and a new transport to Shannon. Maybe she’d splurge and buy one with a programmable autopilot.

  *****

  She’d been tempted to take the monorail to Shannon to Luimneach rather than her jet bike. The traffic between the two cities had warranted the building of the convenience years before. The popularity of the interpersonal transporter available at the Shannon reception area increased traffic exponentially and the city governments addressed the issue by building the rail.

  Once off the people mover, though, Keely would have no vehicle to make a get away should one be necessitated. Instead, Keely opted for a hydrogen-celled two door that included the autopilot function. She set all the programs to allow for complete courtesy to all drivers on the road, stretched out in the rear seat and set a command for the on-board computer to wake her when they neared the Shannon city limits.

  Keely drifted off into a much-needed slumber.

  *****

  A repeated, high-pitched chirp brought Keely out of her dreamless sleep. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. The hydrogen car had the new upholstery smell none of her pre-owned vehicles had ever had. Beneath her fingertips, new stain-resistant fabric, a cream color, contained body sensitive climate control sensors.

  “Computer, slow, then stop at the next wayfarers’ station.”

  The car soundlessly slowed. Keely watched the dark gray sky roll past along with the near black hedges. Ahead the light of Shannon sliced into the night sky.

  Amidurah, a powerful sorcerer, was nearby. Beads of perspiration broke out on her forehead. She swallowed back the sudden fear. Everywhere she’d gone she’d seen evidence of what one man wrought.

  What one man wrought, a woman could set right.

  She squared her shoulders and sat upright. The sooner she got the confrontation over with, the sooner the world would be safe from the reckless destruction the old sorcerer created.

  She climbed bet
ween the front seats. The expansive windshield afforded a one hundred eighty-degree view. To the left and to the right open fields stretched on as far as she could see in the dark, the deep musky scent of soil filtered in through the air vents. In front of her, the black ribbon of road led directly into the lion’s den.

  Plopping into the driver’s seat, Keely reached for the computer console and typed in “Roscoe warehouse.” It was a long shot. Michael probably warned Amidurah she was on the way. If he was smart he’d relocated.

  Keely patted her bag. The Sig was still there should she have need of the weapon. She thought about what she’d learned of Amidurah through Michael and Stephen. There was a good chance an outraged or offended Amidurah waited for her and didn’t move the meeting site. She’d play right into his ancient hands.

  In Shannon, the streets were busier; groups of people strolled the sidewalks, window-shopped, cuddled, entered and exited restaurants for dinner as if all were right with the world. Keely set her jaw in determination even as a chill ran through her.

  Gradually, the busier streets gave way to quieter roads. Conveyances of assorted designs passed her car in both directions but here at least the traffic was lighter and the road less bright.

  Working off the assumption that Amidurah knew she was on the way via Michael’s intel, a direct confrontation at the warehouse was dubious. She pushed a button on the autopilot console and took command of the vehicle manually.

  Keely slowed the car and turned a block prior to where her computerized map showed the Roscoe warehouse to be. This was a workingman’s district. No cars jammed the limited parking slots. Street lamps were few. The primary illumination for the area came from the crime lights perched on the gutters of the buildings.

  The warehouses themselves were non-descript, a boring brown color. Large white numerals at the corner of each building announced the address. A few buildings had the names of their occupants on a marquee in front. The Roscoe building was not quite so audacious. Its simplicity was its first line of security.