These are excerpts from the next book in The BulletProof Ghost novel series. The book releases on August 19, 2017. There is a release event at Barnes and Noble on Green River Road in Evansville, Indiana. Enjoy!
The BulletProof Ghost: In Spades
Prologue
Five
years earlier
Dan Grimes was absolutely
terrified. It was hard enough for him to breathe without this heavy bag over
his head. The van he was in hit a big bump in the road. The man to his right
grabbed his arm to keep him from falling out of his seat. As the van came to a
gradual stop, Dan knew he was going to die tonight.
Dan felt his arm being jerked
hard. He got to his feet and moved where the tugging directed him. Dan was
forced to his knees. He could tell that they were near the waterfront just from
the smell. Dan closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing. Slow his heart.
He needed to be able to think clearly if he was going to have a chance of
getting out of this alive. As slim of a chance as that was.
The sack came off of Dan's head.
His eyes started to adjust to the increased light. Lights were dancing off of
the water in the distance. Dan could make out four men standing in front of
him. Another was bound and on his knees to his right.
Dan heard a voice from his left,
“Dan? Danny? They got you, too?” Dan turned his head to see Bryan Hutch, also
on his knees. Dan immediately knew who to blame for this situation.
Dan angled his head forward
again. Bryan was starting to panic. Dan couldn't lose it as well. He needed to
keep as much control of the situation as possible. “Let me talk. Don't say
anything.”
One of the men stepped forward.
Dan recognized him. Anyone doing 'business' around Indianapolis knew this man.
“Do you know who I am, Danny?”
Dan looked at the muscular,
balding middle aged man. “You're Aldo Unicro.”
Aldo threw a sandwich bag full of
clear crystals at Dan. The bag hit him in the face. His hands were zip-tied, so
he couldn't block the bag of crystal meth as it smacked him. Aldo threw it
pretty hard and it hurt, like getting slapped with fish-tank rocks. Dan made
sure to keep a straight face through the pain. Aldo bent down to get in Dan's
face. “My boy over here got this from you. He was going to keep all of the
profit to himself.”
Dan looked over at the desperate
man on his right. He was sweating bullets and nearly hyperventilating. Whereas
Dan has only heard stories about crossing Aldo, this poor son of a bitch has
seen his handy work in person. Dan needed to lie. The lie was more than likely
going to kill this man he barely knew, “I did sell the glass to him. It was
better quality that the shit you peddle.”
Bryan started to sweat even more
than he had been. “Um…Dan? Could you not...”
Dan whipped his head in Bryan's
direction. “Shut your fucking mouth, Bry.” Bryan did just that. Dan looked back
over at Aldo. “Sorry. What was his name over there? Oh, yeah. Bobby?”
The man spoke up, “Bobby Drak,
you mutherfucker!”
Dan kept talking to Aldo without
acknowledging Bobby, “Anyway, Bobby said this was an official deal, with your
permission. I didn't know he was cutting you out. You have my apologies for not
doing the proper research.”
Bobby screamed, “You're a fucking
liar! I told you that this was between you and me...” Bobby realized what he
had said. Up until this point, he swore that he hadn't been cutting Unicro out.
Bobby started to panic, “No, wait. I meant...”
Aldo pulled his 9 mil out of his
holster. He pointed right at Bobby's forehead and pulled the trigger as his
victim begged for his life. Bobby's brains and bits of his skull scattered all
over the riverfront. Aldo rushed back over to Dan. He was practically spitting
on Dan as he screamed, “I knew that man for six years! I drank with him. I did
coke with him. I considered him a friend, but he fucked with my money.” He
pointed at Bobby's body on the ground. “That is what happens when you fuck with
my money.” He straightened out and adjusted his jacket. “Now, why shouldn't I
do the same to you?”
Dan was caught off guard a
little. Once Bobby was dead, he fully expected to be next. He closed his eyes
to think, “Um...I..”
Aldo put the gun to Dan's nose,
“You are boring me.”
Dan opened his eyes. “It's not
just drugs.” He looked into Aldo's eyes. “You handle whores and the underground
gambling. Dog fights, high stakes card games...”
Aldo thumbed the gun's hammer
back to its original position. Bryan sighed a breath of relief. Dan knew they
weren't out of the woods yet. Aldo swung the gun to a neutral position. “Okay,
I'm listening.”
“I heard that if you had to give
all of it up, except one thing, you would keep the gambling. Cards and dice are
in your blood. You love the thrill of chance,” Dan smiled a little.
“How is this going to save you,
Danny?” Aldo chided.
“You have a pack of cards on
you,” Dan exclaimed.
“That was a statement, not a question,”
Aldo smiled a little himself.
“I do my research,” the sweating
Dan said.
Aldo pulled a deck from his
jacket, “That you do. So you want to play a game?”
Dan nodded. “I would like very
much for you to grace me with a game.”
Aldo started pacing around. “What
to play? I'm not going to deal you a hand.”
“A guessing game,” Bryan squeaked
out.
Dan smiled at his friend, “Yes,
what Bry said, a guessing game. Your choice of what to guess.”
Aldo shuffled his cards, one over
the other. “I could be a huge dick and make you guess the number and suit.
That's no fun though. One in fifty two chance and you'll lose. I could ask you
to guess the number or face, but again the odds are grotesquely against you.
One in thirteen, not counting jokers, no jokers in my decks.” Aldo bent down to
look Dan in the eye. “The suit. One in four. You're still at a disadvantage,
but you have a fighting chance. Those are the games I love. I'll pull out a
card.” Aldo did just that and kept the patterned side toward Dan. “And you tell
me the suit.”
Dan held his breath. His life was
either going to end right here, right now or he would live. Dan exhaled one
word, “Spades.”
Aldo flipped the card around to
show Dan a five of spades. “Good guess,” he motioned for his guys to let them
go. “Now get the fuck out of my city.”
Emergence
4
"Kyle?!" Irene was
shaking Kyle's shoulder.
Kyle grabbed her hand.
"Stop, you're making me sick."
"You don't have a
stomach." Irene couldn't see Kyle, she was reaching into his masking
field. Kyle didn't want to take the chance that someone would see him sitting
in the Sentra's passenger seat. Irene kept her eyes on the road. "You
weren't answering me. Did you hear anything I said?"
Kyle shook his head even though
Irene couldn't see it. "You had the radio up. I was doing something on the
internet."
"Like the
internet-internet?" Irene asked. "Were you using cell phone
telepathy?" she laughed a little.
"My brain-node network has a
lot of uses," Kyle explained.
"What were you doing?"
Kyle saw they were approaching
Johnson City's limits. "Nothing important...just a group thing."
Irene looked over. "Was it a
therapy group?" There was an awkward silence. "Kyle...you can talk to
me. I'm glad you're talking to someone."
Kyle touched Irene's hand, part
of it went invisible. "We are talking. These people are dealing with
similar situations to mine. You haven't done anything horrible, so as much as
you're helping me, this helps me in a different way."
"You couldn't help killing
Nick and the others. You almost died stopping yourself from killing me. None of
it is your fault," Irene said sternly, but with concern in her voice.
"I still remember all of it.
It's hard pushing it out of my mind." Kyle closed his eyes only to see Nick's
dismembered body falling to the ground in a bloody gushing pile. "This
helps. I promise to do it on my own time."
Irene smiled slightly as they
were driving through Johnson City. "Do what you need to; just keep me in
the loop."
"You're always in my loop.
Wait...let me rephrase that," Kyle joked.
"Too late, I'm in your loop.
Didn't think we were that close," Irene chuckled. Irene stopped at the
light. "I hope my dad and Four are okay."
"They're not even near Vegas
yet, so I think they're fine," Kyle smirked. "Four can control his
motor functions with pinpoint precision. He throws some dice and we can get the
funds to create our base of operations."
"You're sure you two can
forge records to keep interested parties from tracing you?" Irene asked.
"It's not like this is a tiny bit of cash you'll be throwing around."
"Four and I can manipulate
computer code with no problem. He thinks making a shell internet business could
take care of..." Kyle stopped talking.
Irene looked confused. She looked
over to her passenger seat. "Kyle? What's wrong? Are you still here?"
"Your door didn't open, I
can't phase through your car," Kyle answered. "Pull over somewhere.
There's an alley up here. Pull into it."
Irene did just that. "Why am
I pulling into an alley? I um...not sure what to think about this. I mean you
haven't even bought me dinner," Irene started joking. "Besides you
have all of that armor..."
"Stop." Kyle didn't
mean to be mean, but he didn't have time to crack jokes about what people
generally do in dark alleys. "Sorry, I need you to stay here. There's
something going down on police scanner frequencies." Irene's door opened
by itself.
"Police frequencies? Oh, no.
Where are you going? Hey!" Kyle was gone, though he could still hear her.
He didn't have time to alleviate her understandable confusion.
Irene pulled out her phone. She
started to click around on TweetBook. She answered a few comments on her feed.
Clicked on some links. Then it started. Her main feed blew up with stories.
Irene updated her page over and over again. There was nothing other than this
one single story. Over and over.
"Oh shit!" Irene said
as her door opened on its own. It had been less than fifteen minutes. Irene
looked over to her invisible passenger. "Kyle, what is this? What did you
do? The internet is blowing up with stories about... about..."
"Me," Kyle looked
around. "You need to move. The police are going to start sweeping this
area soon. This looks a bit conspicuous."
Irene obeyed and drove into
traffic. She looked panicked. "You and Four were supposed to be keeping a
low profile. You were..."
"Irene," Kyle looked at
his friend. She couldn't see him, but she knew he was staring into her eyes as
they hit the next stop light. "People were going to die. I stopped it. I
had to help them. I needed to." Kyle looked forward as she started
accelerating. "It's done."
Irene pulled into the parking lot
of the bulk store her dad shopped at. She sighed as she slid the lever into
park. She slid the lock screen off of her phone and flipped through more
stories. "There are videos? There are videos, Kyle." Kyle could hear
the disapproval in her voice. She pressed play on one. "Wow, you're pretty
awesome in this, I mean, couldn't you hack their phones with your
internetelapathy?"
"Is that what we’re calling
it?" Kyle shook his head. "I did for like two of the phones. A lot of
them were live streaming and saving at the same time. Plus, I was a little
distracted."
"I can see that." Irene
put her phone back into her pocket. "Four's going to be pissed."
Kyle laughed, "Well I'm not
sure he even reads the news or internet posts or..."
Kyle felt a scratch in the back
of his mind, "Five...Five..."
Kyle rolled his eyes. "Go
shop, I have to answer a...um, call I guess."
5
"Five!" Four and Kyle
were standing in the white infinity of their brain-node network, "Why is
the internet blowing up with stories about you?"
"Blowing up?" Kyle
laughed. "That's a little too normal for you have come up with your
own."
"Kevin Hedwin's
phrasing," Four responded. He sounded annoyed, which meant a lot with his
emotions being suppressed.
"Ah," Kyle walked
around Four. "This place is a little plain for my tastes." Kyle
snapped his metal fingers and it turned into the interior of a pizza
restaurant.
Four looked around. He saw people
eating. Children playing in the arcade. One of the employees bringing out an
order. Two policeman eating pasta in the middle of the room. "What is
this?"
"This is where my emergence
took place. This is how it looked right before things went to shit. Before something
awful happened. If I did nothing all of these people would be dead. All of
them." Kyle took his virtual helmet off. Four was in street clothes. They
met eyes. "I can't sit by and let people die if I can help them. I
can't."
Four thought for a moment.
Arguing that point with Kyle would be useless. He was still mad, but he tried
to understand. "Fine. In any case, it is too late now." Four turned
his back to Kyle. "They're already attempting to give you a title."
"I'm not reading any of the
articles right now. I'm a little embarrassed about the whole being recorded
thing. I guess I'm too self-conscious," Kyle smiled. "I'll check it
out at the end of the day. I'm sure Irene or Al will read them out loud to me,
just to poke fun at me."
"I do not understand.
Embarrassed?" Four paused, "Mr. Hedwin and I are making what he calls
'good time.' I'll inform you when we arrive in Las Vegas." Four brushed
the environment away. "Five, try to stay out of sight until I
return."
"I'll try," Kyle said
as Four disappeared. "No promises, my friend."
8
Smidt had sobered up 'enough' to
drive home. Christ, he thought, Bryan knows how to fuckin' party. Bryan
shouldn't have been driving, but Smidt was too high to argue. Smidt pulled into
his driveway. He looked at his car's clock. 2:46 PM. He left a bit early, but
he was the boss, so fuck it. Smidt was in the mood for a bit of his really good
shit. The blue crystal he made for the high rolling clients. Not the cloudy
shit he sold to the trailer park trash.
There was some crazy shit going
on in the news. Some armored guy stopping some civil war-something-assholes.
Was that even real? Did he come up with that when he was high? Shit, he
thought, he needed to cut back on the drugs a bit. Not today though. Maybe next
week.
Smidt's house was in an okay
neighborhood. He didn't live near The Kitchen. Don't eat where you shit, his
daddy use to tell him. He made so much money off of it he could afford to get
an okay house. If it was too fancy, someone might suspect, even with the
corrupt pigs in this town.
Smidt opened the door.
"Honey, I'm home." He really hoped that bitch overdosed while he was
gone. He was creeping up on forty-five, so he wasn't picky, but when a bitch
smokes all of your shit and you're a fucking drug dealer, that's when you have
to draw the line.
A lump of a woman about his age
laid out on the stained couch, "Look at you, high as fuck, baby." She
just groaned a little. "Where is the good shit. Where's my sky glass? I
need to get stoned to put up with your dumb ass."
She muttered something. He leaned
in. "G....n..."
"What? Speak the fuck up,
bitch," he barked at her. He started looking in the normal hiding places.
The pocket on the back of the couch. Under the game console. He was proud of
that one. He had to create a tiny trap door on the bottom of the plastic. All
of the secret stashes were empty. Smidt could feel his blood start to boil.
"Gone," she said barely
opening her eyes.
"Gone! You could have
snorted the shitty stuff and you take my sky glass! I have to drive all of the
way back to the fucking Kitchen!" he grabbed her by the hair and pulled
hard. She struggled as he dragged her toward the door. "You stupid,
cunt!" He threw her into his yard.
She rolled a few times before she
could stop her momentum. Smidt's girlfriend had a stream of blood leaking out
of her mouth. She got up to her knees. "Don't dare...you touch
me...like..."
"You can't even put a
sentence together you junkie-twat!" Smidt went inside while she sobbed on
the lawn. He came out with a dresser drawer. He emptied a bunch of women's
clothes onto the grass. "Take your shit and get the fuck out. Now!"
The woman grabbed at her clothes
in the grass. The lawn had just been mowed so there were clippings all over
them. "Stop being so mean, I'm...I'm sorry...just let me," she tried
to collect her thoughts. Everything was so blurry.
"No, shut up...SHUT
UP!" Smidt threw the drawer at her hitting her in the arm and cutting her.
Dark red blood dripped into the green grass.
She held her wound.
"Why..." Blood trickled through her fingers.
She started to get up. Smidt felt
the urge to just slap the shit out of her. One last time. He reared back and
was caught off guard by the blur of a dark fist punching him in the face. One
of his already loose teeth dislodged as he was knocked off of his feet. Smidt
spit the tooth out as he scrambled to his feet. In front of his now
ex-girlfriend was the black girl that visited her every week. "I told you
to fuck off."
"You don't even know my
name, do you, Smidt? Just back the hell off or I'll sock you again," Irene
told him. Irene knew that this guy was drunk, high, or both. He was clumsy and
she was fast and in shape. She had taken a handful of defense classes, but she
knew he was still dangerous. She kept her hands up.
Smidt walked away. Irene looked
down at the woman, who was confused, crying and bleeding. "Karen, you're
staying with us. No argument, okay?" A few people were poking their heads
out of their houses at this point. Irene shot them a dirty look. She thought,
how could none of them help her? Irene had to park down the street due to the
lack of space on the curb. She basically had to sprint when she saw this piece
of crap getting ready to hit Kyle's mom.
Karen Richard nodded as they made
their way to Irene's car. Irene heard someone come up behind her. She turned to
see Smidt throwing a haymaker at Irene from behind. Sucker-Punching
motherfucker, she thought, but knew with Karen on her shoulder, she was going
to take this punch in the face. Full on.
Smidt was inches from hitting
Irene, but before he knew it, he was suddenly hundreds of feet off of the
ground. He didn't have time to react or comprehend what was going on at first.
Smidt got his composure and took in what was happening. He was being held by
the wrist by an armored...robot...something. Light grey armor with lit up
panels and seams. Two bright blue, piercing eyes. His wrist felt like it was
breaking. "Shitshitshitshitshit..."
The thing spoke, "You are a
complete waste of life. Hurting that defenseless woman. You were going to hit
that girl when she couldn’t fight back. She probably could have beaten your
ass." The armored figure flew up higher. "Coward."
"I..." Smidt was trying
to figure out what to say so this thing wouldn't kill him, but his brain was
freezing up. "I'm really sorry. I swear, I'll be nice to ladies. Please
don't drop me." He closed his eyes as tears streamed out of them.
"I don't believe you!"
Smidt felt the grip on his wrist release. He screamed in the highest pitch he
had ever screamed. Within a couple of seconds he hit the ground, which only
hurt a little. He had been lowered to the ground while he had his eyes closed.
He only dropped a few feet. The fall did hurt, but it wasn't fatal. He realized
he was still screaming like a little girl and stopped.
Smidt looked around. Irene and
Karen stared in disbelief. Karen had never even heard of this thing. Irene,
because she told Kyle to keep a low profile, but was glad not to have taken a
punch to the side of the head.
Kyle landed in front of the Chef.
Smidt was crying on the ground, still terrified. The people in their yards were
astounded, but scared. They kept their distance."It's him," one of
them said.
"You will not hurt anyone
ever again. Do you understand?" Kyle said to Smidt. Smidt didn't respond.
"Answer me!"
"I promise. I'll be
better..." he squeaked out. "I'll be more...than I have been.
Please...don't." he looked at the bruises on his wrist. "I'll do
anything, don't hurt me." His heart was racing faster than when he was on
the best speed of his life. It took every ounce of control not to piss his
pants.
Kyle stepped forward. "I'm
always watching. Never forget that. If you even as much as look in their
direction again. I'll drop you from a mile up." Kyle disappeared from
sight.
10
Kyle came into Irene's house
through an open window. He became visible as soon as he pulled the curtains.
Kyle made his way downstairs to see Al sitting at the kitchen table.
"Don't you have a house?" Kyle joked.
Al smirked, "Well, my dad
does, but I like to steer clear of that place." Al was looking at a
tablet. "He goes on a business trip in an hour, so I'll be spending a bit
more time there."
Kyle suspected what was up.
"He was mad you didn't come straight home after yesterday," Kyle
referenced the massacre.
"Irene's car was messed up
and he had his douchey driver take me. I wasn't going to let her go home on her
own with who knows was out there murdering..." Al stopped. "I
mean...at the time, that's what I was thinking. I didn't know you were..."
Al looked at Kyle. Kyle had taken his helmet off and put it on the table. "I'm
sorry."
Kyle didn't smile, but looked
like he wasn't mad. Even without any color in his eyes, they had so much
emotion in them. "It's okay. Don't worry about it."
Al whipped out his driver's
license. "Look who's legal now, bitch."
"I know, I was checking the
DMV databases in my spare time." Kyle sat on one of the metal chairs that
could support his weight.
Al was looking at his tablet
again. "Which I see you didn't have a lot of today," Al smiled while
looking at Kyle over the tablet.
Kyle punched him in the arm.
"You fucking dick. I thought you didn't know about me...um," Kyle
didn't know how to put it.
"Being an exhibitionist. No,
there's no way to get away from it. It is everywhere on the net, my friend, and
they fucking love you," Al told him enthusiastically. "I've been
waiting to spring all of this shit on you. There is one documentary by this
guerrilla video journalist. She came up with about an hour ago. She works damn
fast. How much have you seen?"
Kyle looked a little embarrassed.
"I haven't really looked at any of it. I don't want to see the comments
about me. It makes me feel nervous."
Al laughed, "Nervous? We
were on the brink of being cut into little pieces yesterday and being trolled
online makes you nervous?" Al started to hook the tablet up to the T.V.
"That is so precious."
Kyle tilted his head. "What
are you doing?"
"As soon as Ire gets here,
we're gonna watch this shit. I want both of you to see this at the same
time," Al said.
Kyle tapped his helmet. "You
know I could have done that with my brain node network. I could display a
hologram of the vid."
"We are doing this shit old
school...well sorta old school." Al looked up as Irene came through the
door.
Kyle stood up. "How's
mom?"
Irene looked sad as she tried to
find the words, "She's in the apartment over the store. I...umm...I'm
sorry you saw her like that."
"How long has she been this
bad?" Kyle's voice cracked a little.
"Years now. I check in her
when I can, but she seems to be living with a different asshole every couple of
months. I think this guy was the worst." Irene looked over at Al.
"What are you doing?"
"No, you guys resolve the
'Kyle's mom' thing...I mean you met your mom? Did she know it was you?" Al
asked.
"No. She's not going to
either." Kyle looked at Irene. "She can't."
Irene nodded, "If that's
what you want." Irene didn't want to lay on him that she may need him more
than he needed her. Even as a cyborg, Kyle might be what pulls her back from
the shitty world she lives in now. Irene looked back at Al. "Again...Al..."
Al hit play on his tablet so the
video would stream. "Okay, check it."
The screen had a dark skinned
woman addressing the audience, "My name is Sheba Parvati. This is The Free
People's Report. I'm standing outside of Didi's Pizza. Today two people who
claim to be part of a white supremacist group known as The New Confederates
stormed this restaurant with AR-15 assault rifles. The first thing they did was
shoot a police officer by the name of Chris Felt. Officer Felt was eating lunch
with his partner, Adam Frix. Officer Frix was told to put his still holstered
weapon on the ground as his partner bled out on the ground."
Images of the officers as well as
surveillance footage of the incident flashed across the screen, "The two
terrorists, whose names have been released as Sharon Scopes and James Monks,
made demands about the racial purity of America as well as complaints about
taxes, welfare, and other politically charged rhetoric. The white police
officer tried to help his Latino partner, who had been shot. The terrorists
made comments about his racially treachery." The video showed a man with a
rifle aiming at the two officers on the ground.
Ms. Parvati was on the screen
again. "What happened next is so unbelievable, if more than five
smartphones hadn't caught this incident, I would suspect the footage was
manipulated. What we are showing you is the best footage of the incident. There
is sound, so I will not narrate this so you can experience the full impact of
this history-altering moment."
The footage was clear and in
color. Officer Frix was keeping pressure on his friend's shoulder wound. Sharon
Scopes screamed at him, "Get the fuck off of that beaner. Who gives a
shit?! Maybe he'll get replaced by a white man. Someone who'll do the job
right. Who the job belongs to," she smiled with a smarmy grin.
Frix raised his head up.
"You sick fucking bitch. He's saved my life. He is the best person I
know." A tear leaked out of his eye. "If trying to save him gets me
shot," he looked at his still conscious friend and partner, "Then
it's the very least I could do. You're going to have to kill me to keep me from
helping him.
"Fuckin' traitor," she
said as her rifle's sight was lowered at Frix's head. The police officer
mentally prepared himself for death. He thought of his family, but knew they
would understand. He also knew that even if he abandoned Chris, he would still
probably die. At least he was dying for something, he thought to himself.
The sound of the shot was
deafening. The moment the trigger was pulled an armored figure appeared in the
middle of the room. The figure deflected the bullet into the floor with its
arm, controlling the shattered ammo's trajectory. Kyle stood challenging the
killers in front of him. No one seemed to know what to do. All of the sound was
sucked out of the room. No one moved for about ten seconds.
Kyle put his hands up.
"Look, I don't want to hurt..."
Sharon looks at her partner.
"James, light this motherfucker up!" They aimed their guns at Kyle
and started firing like mad.
Kyle flew forward, trying to keep
the ricochets from hitting innocent bystanders, who were running and taking
cover. Kyle hovered about the ground while rushing forward. Five shots had hit
him when he broke James' jaw. Kyle grabbed the gun out James' hand. Kyle
dropped to the floor. As he swept James' feet from under him, Kyle shot a light
kinetic blast at Sharon. Kyle's blaster popped out of his arm and retracted so
fast, it was barely caught on video. Most of the witnesses just saw a flash of
blue light.
Sharon flew off of her feet and
hit the wall behind her. It felt like getting kicked by a mule. Her ribs
cracked from the impact. She spit up a little blood as she tried to shake the
fuzziness out of her head. "Holy god!" she barely whispered as she
tried to catch her breath.
James' head hit the floor, but
not hard enough to kill him. Kyle was planning his movements out very carefully
to avoid that. Sharon cleared her head while she scrambled on the ground. Most
of the patrons in the restaurant had run out the back door. The New
Confederates had only four hostages. The two policemen on the ground and the
two people recording with their phones. The other few people recording bolted
as soon as the shooting started.
Kyle had his sensors keep track
of everyone in the room. Kyle also noticed that the police cars were almost to
his location. The armored figure walked towards Sharon. He was trying to get
her to give up. "Look, there's no reason to keep this going. You can't
hurt me. I can hurt you. A lot. I don't want to, but I'm not going to let you
shoot anyone else. I will protect the innocent, even it means putting you in
the hospital for a long time." He meant every word. Kyle held his hand
out, "Please, give me the gun and..."
"Fuck off, tin man,"
Sharon said as she aimed her gun at the camera and therefore at the person
recording. The figure extended a glowing blue blade and sliced the front of her
gun off. Sharon didn't feel an impact. The glowing blade just slid with ease
through the black metal. The armored figure kicked the remainder of her gun,
breaking her hand. Kyle shot a stun blast, knocking her out. She convulsed from
the electricity flowing through her body.
Ms. Parvati appeared on screen.
"Shocking. Not just the technology used by the armored...figure, but the
concern he showed. No one died today. And by that I mean that at this moment in
the video, emergency response teams arrived on the scene. The figure should
have left, but...well, I'll let the video speak for itself."
The video continued from the
moment that it left off. Kyle turned from the psycho he knocked out and went to
the officers. He scanned the downed officer. The uninjured policeman, Frix
looked apprehensive. Kyle looked at him. "Officer Frix, I want to help.
Officer Felt needs surgery and a blood transfusion." Kyle picked up the
bleeding man. Blood ran down his armor. "The ambulance can't save him in
time. I can."
Frix tried to form words. He
wanted to ask if the figure was asking for permission, but he knew that's not
what he meant. Kyle exited the building and flew into the air and out of frame.
He just left a cloud of dust in his wake.
Sheba was now in front of a
hospital. "Within thirty seconds the figure, the man…? Brought Officer
Felt to JC General. If he had been transported by ambulance, he would have bled
to death before arriving. The video of the events of the hospital are short. A
father filming his newborn meeting his extended family for the first
time."
A newborn baby was onscreen.
"Hi there, Ms. Baby," a voice said. "Meet your aunts and...holy
fucking shit!" The camera spun around to see the armored robotic-man
walking into the front of the hospital.
Kyle looked around. "This
man needs a blood transfusion, type O, right now." Everyone just stood
staring at the armored man. No one came to help him. "Someone?" A
doctor ran over to the police officer in Kyle's metal arms.
The singular brave doctor grabbed
a portable bed. "Gunshot wound, prep him for surgery, and get that
goddamned blood!" Several nurses pushed the bed away to an operating room.
The doctor looked at Kyle. "Are you sure about the blood type?"
Kyle walked backward. "Yes,
take care of him. He had a rough day."
The doctor nodded, "It's my
job. I'll do my best." The armored figure faded away from sight.
Sheba was walking through the
hospital. "Impenetrable armor, super strength, energy projection, a
glowing blade that can slice through metal, flight, and the ability to become
invisible. The videos hit the internet almost immediately. Debate raged for
only about an hour before we knew the video was real. What do we think of
this...person? Is he a person? A machine?"
The words 'Three Hours Later'
popped up on the screen. Parvati was standing in front of Officer Felt's
hospital bed. "Officer. I know you requested this interview. I only have a
few questions, if you're up for it."
Officer Felt took a drink of
water. "I'm a pretty big fan. I heard you were already making a video,
which is so like you to be on this so quick," he coughed a little.
The doctor stepped into frame.
"He needs to rest, this was a bad idea..."
Felt put his hand up. "I'm
fine, just a couple of questions."
Sheba put her hand on his.
"I don't need much, say whatever you want about today. About what happened
to you."
"I was shot by hate. Pure
and utter hate. It looked human. But it wasn't. The thing that umm...saved me.
It didn't look like a man, not exactly, but it was a better person than those
two in Didi's. It...he..." The police officer teared up. "I get to
see my babies again. I get to live and laugh...and when I get outta here, have
a couple of beers with that son of a bitch, Frix. If the armored man hadn't
been there...it would be over. Wherever he is. Thank you. A lot of us will have
your back. No matter what."
Sheba was now back in front of
the restaurant. "Touching. But now, the authorities don't know how to
respond." Someone else was in front of the camera. "Ma'am, do you
have any comment, what was this thing that stopped the terrorists?"
The screen had the name 'FBI
Agent Susan Gojen' pop up. She seemed to be in a hurry. "I was brought in
to consult. This isn't the case I'm supposed to be on. I have no comment right
now, get back to me later."
"The internet on the other
hand had a lot to say about the incident." The websites and text scrolled
down the screen. "The thing the comments seemed concerned with as much as
the theories about what It was, was what to call it. Tin-Man was popular for a
hot minute, but that gave way to Invinci-Phantom, due to Its ability to appear
and disappear. This led to several variations including Iron Banshee and Steel
Incubus. Then one single title rose above all that was the cacophony of the
internet."
The video stopped. Al stood in
front of the screen. "Okay, you ready for this, dawg?
Kyle scoffed, "Since when do
you say dawg?"
Al grinned, "Only when it's
needed and right now, it's warranted." Al touched play on his tablet.
"So one question remains.
What is the BulletProof Ghost?" An image of the BulletProof Ghost closed
out the video.
Kyle sat in his seat a moment. He
leaned forward and touched the bottom of his chin, framing his face with his
hand. "Oh," Kyle looked at Al and then Irene. "I like
that." Kyle touched his helmet and for the first time, looked at it with a
bit of pride. "The BulletProof Ghost."
Text and Photo Copyright ©2017 by Jacob Harris (Jake dh)
Cover Art Copyright © 2017 by Jacob Harris (Jake dh)
All rights reserved. No part of this book can be reproduced or transmitted
in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying,
recording or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission
of publisher/author.
The BulletProof Ghost™ created by Jacob Harris (Jake dh)
Cover Design by ebooklaunch.com
Physical Character Design by Scott Loesch
Author Photo by Susan Hayes
Editing and Formatting by Iflowcreative
First Edition
