Lamp Black: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 2) (69 page)

In compensation for the growing violence around him, John’s spiritual abilities also continue to develop. He begins to learn and do amazing things that he can no longer keep from the group. As the virtues of his abilities become self-evident, others in his group want to be “awakened” and participate in the work with him. However, they soon learn that desire alone is not sufficient to obtain John’s level of awakening; that much more is needed.

John helps them discover the truth of their journey to awaken, and becomes a true Gatekeeper. This, and much more, awaits to be revealed in Compass Call, the continuation of the Gatekeeper, Book Three. In the meantime, please enjoy this small excerpt.

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XCERPT FROM
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OMPASS
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ALL
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OOK
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ATEKEEPER
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Pete raised the first brace and unlocked the door. But before he stepped out he said, “Adam, keep an eye on the guy with the AR. At the first shot fired I’m running back inside, so keep the door open.” Pete then turned to look at Marcus and said, “But if I drop to the ground, have Marcus close and immediately brace it. Got it?” Adam replied but Marcus looked scared. Pete put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and said, “Everything will be fine. Just stay calm and keep a level head about you. Everything will be OK.”

Pete approached to about ten feet from the man, careful to keep his rifle pointed at his chest, though it looked to be held casually, and said, “What do you want?”

The man turned to look at his leader and then back to face Pete. “Is your name, Paul?”

“What’s it to you?” replied Pete, as he pushed the M1A’s safety lever forward. It was conveniently located in the trigger guard, and offered quick action when needed. The man heard the sound and stiffened. Pete pulled in the triggers slack and waited for the man to reply.

“Well, it’s real easy. You give us Paul, and we’ll give you John,” said the man.

“I don’t see John,” said Pete. “Where is he?”

“Oh, he’s safe enough . . . for now. But if you want to see him again you’ll give us Paul.”

“I’ll tell you what, you go get John. You let me see him, see that he’s alive and well, and then we’ll talk,” answered Pete.

The man shrugged and turned around. He walked up to the leader and the two exchanged a few brief words that Pete couldn’t hear. A moment later the leader pointed his finger at two men and motioned them away with a wave. The two men mounted their bikes, started them up, and drove out of the neighborhood. When they were gone,
the messenger returned and stopped where he had earlier talked with Pete. When he didn’t speak, Pete asked, “Now what?”

“You’ll see John in a few minutes,” said the man.

“Does your boss have a voice?” asked Pete.

“He’s a cautious man. He’ll talk with you, but not while you’re carrying that elephant gun.”

“I’ll leave the rifle inside if he’ll agree to talk directly,” said Pete.

“Fair enough,” said the man, and he turned to walk back to his boss.

Pete backed into the house and shut the door. He called for Paul. “Did you hear any of that exchange?” asked Pete.

“No,” said Paul. “Why? What did he say?”

“That they’re willing to trade you for John,” said Pete.

“Crap! They have John,” said Paul, now visibly upset.

“It’s OK, Paul, now listen. You’re not trading yourself for John. It never works that way. I just want you to know what we’re up against. Now I’m confident John is fine, and supposedly two bikers just went to bring him here. But I have a feeling they won’t return,” said Pete. Paul looked at him strangely but Pete continued before he could talk. “I don’t know how I know John is safe, I just do. Anyway, we need to make plans to deal with these guys, and I’m thinking the only thing they understand is violence. I’m trying to arrange a parlay with the leader . . .”

“Parlay?” said Paul.

“A talk . . . I’m trying to arrange a
talk
with their leader. See if I can get close enough to him to take him hostage,” said Pete.

“What? Are you crazy? That will never work. The guy’s a giant.”

“Well, he’s big, but I think I can handle him. Anyway, I’m going to talk with him and see what comes into play. The way I see it, we have until John returns before we have to act,” finished Pete.

“Suit yourself, but if you get taken out I don’t think we’ll make it on our own.”

“Bullshit,” said Pete. “You guys are more than capable of defending this house without me. Just shoot straight. We can do this, Paul.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m not afraid of them. But I am worried for the rest of us,” said Paul.

“And you should be. These guys don’t play nice. They’re one-percenter’s for a reason. So let’s get into their decision making cycle and tip the scales in our favor,” said Pete. He handed Paul his rifle and asked Marcus for his pistol. Marcus cleared it and handed it to Pete, which made Pete smile and nod in approval. Pete added the loose round to the magazine, reinserted the magazine into the grip, and reloaded the weapon. He slipped the ready pistol into his pants at the small of his back and said, “I’m gonna go talk to this guy, but I don’t know what’s gonna happen. So stay alert and keep the door open. If I’ve got Blackbeard as a hostage, remove the second door brace so I can get in the house quickly. Got it?”

“Everything,” said Paul. Pete opened the door and was about to step through when Paul added, “Pete, thanks for doing this.”

“I’ll see you in a minute,” said Pete, and walked out to meet the messenger.

The man waited for Pete to stop and said, “The boss will talk to you, but first you have to raise up your shirt.” Pete raised his shirt as the man requested. He then told Pete to turn around. Pete complied and didn’t attempt to conceal the pistol. “You’re not playing fair. Are you trying to take advantage of us?” Pete snorted but didn’t answer, so the man continued. “Drop your gun at the front door and then you can talk to the boss.”

Pete walked to the front door and handed his pistol to Paul who was standing just inside. Before he returned to the walkway, Pete said, “Don’t point your gun out the door, but be ready to cover my retreat.” Paul nodded and Pete left. The biker gang leader was already making his way up the walkway. Pete broke the ice by saying, “I was wondering if you were brave enough to meet with me.”

The big man sneered and said, “I can cut you down to size with a simple hand gesture.”

“Perhaps,” said Pete, “but you’d die in the process. And judging by your cautious behavior, I’d say you want to live a little longer.”

“You think I’m afraid of you, Soldier boy? I can take you and this house in minutes,” replied Blackbeard.

“You see that window directly above me?” said Pete. The large biker looked briefly up at the alcove defensive position and then quickly returned his eyes to Pete. “There are two marksmen in that window,” continued Pete. “They’re protected by three layers of sandbags, which makes that a fortified fighting position. You’re men, on the other hand, are in the open. Half of them would be cut down before they even reached cover. We’re prepared for you, big guy. In fact, we’ve been prepared for you since you rode in here and torched Paul’s house,” said Pete.

The big man nodded and said, “What makes you think we won’t catch you while you’re sleeping? We’ll come back and burn your house down at night.”

“Well, I thought about that, which is why you taking John confused me a little. I mean, why take a hostage? Why not just kill him?” asked Pete. He looked hard at the big man and said, “I’m thinking it’s not Paul you want, but the house and all our food. You only want me to think it’s Paul. You won’t burn the house down. At least not until you have no other options,” said Pete.

Blackbeard looked blankly at Pete and said, “I want Paul, and if he doesn’t come out I’ll burn the house down around you.”

“Oh. So you’ll huff, and you’ll puff, and you’ll blow our house down,” said Pete.

“If you’re trying to piss me off it won’t work. I’ve got your friend,” said the biker. “I’ll set him up in front of the house and remove his head with my machete. So either you cooperate, or we do this the hard way.”

Pete saw the machete handle sticking up from behind the man’s right shoulder. A house full of food remained his best bargaining chip, and he would continue to use it until it was no longer viable. As far as Pete was concerned, Paul still wasn’t on the table, at least not openly. Pete had an idea, but he had to let the big man come up with it himself.
“Well,” said Pete, “if you burn the house down you won’t get our food. You would destroy all our food just to settle a score over some stupid asshole who picked a fight with the wrong house,” said Pete. The man scowled. “I’m talking about Darrel, though the same argument applies to this house,” finished Pete.

“There’s other food to be had,” growled the biker. “You give me Paul and we’ll go from there.”

Pete realized he was dealing with a shrewd opponent, but he still thought he could goad him into action by attacking his authority as a leader. The machete gave him an idea, and he hoped and prayed the man’s ego would motivate him to accept the challenge. “OK then. I can see you’re a man of focus. How about you and I settle this like men? We can duel with machetes.” yelled Pete, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Winner takes all!”

The large man boomed with laughter, and the other bikers followed suit. When the big man was satisfied with the duration and intensity of the laughter, he held up his hand to silence his men. Blackbeard turned his back to Pete and boomed, “I accept the challenge and your terms, but on one condition. The fight will be between me and Paul. He killed my officer, so he will answer the challenge.”

Pete was hoping the man would say that. If what John said was true about Paul’s sword fighting capability, then Paul should be able to handle the big man without a problem. Pete looked at him and said, “That will be Paul’s decision, not mine. I’ll ask him if he accepts your challenge, and be right back,” said Pete, and he returned to the house. As soon as he stepped through the door, Paul said, “I’ll fight him.”

“Are you sure? He’s a big dude,” said Pete.

“I can handle him,” said Paul. “And if he’s really Darrel’s leader, then I want a piece of him.”

“OK, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll stay inside during the fight. But I want you to know that if you get injured we’re going to open fire. In fact, when you hear shots, I want you to drop to the ground and stay as
low as possible. We’ll be picking off the bikers as they scramble around and I don’t want you getting hit,” said Pete.

Marissa heard the exchange and emerged from the kitchen. She grabbed Paul by the hand and led him into the kitchen. After several minutes, Pete was beginning to think Paul would change his mind, thinking that Marissa would never allow him to risk his life in such a manner. But when he heard the sound of pots and pans moving around, he walked into the kitchen. Paul was digging through the pot lids while Marissa dabbed at her eyes with a napkin.

Bonnie turned to look at Pete and said, “What are you up to? This is crazy, Pete.”

“That may be so, but I think Paul can close the deal,” said Pete.

“And what deal is that?” asked Bonnie.

“Our lives, this house, the food we need to survive, and John,” said Pete.

“I hope you’re right,” said Bonnie, as she turned to resume her watch out the back.

Pete looked at Marissa and he saw approval in her eyes. There was something special about her, and he was very interested in learning what it was.

Paul stood and held a large, flat, Calphalon pot lid in his hand. He looked at Pete and said, “This will be my buckler.”

“Buckler?” said Pete.

Paul shook his head left to right and said, “And you call yourself a Soldier. Yes, a buckler, it’s a small, hand-held shield designed primarily to deflect or trap the sword blows of an opponent.”

Pete snorted and said, “I can see you know what you’re doing. I’m also glad Blackbeard fell into our trap. Now let’s go finish this and save John.”

Paul stepped onto the front porch and Pete closed and locked the door behind him. No one was in position to manage the door, so Paul was essentially on his own as soon as he walked outside. Given Paul’s civilian background, it was the bravest thing Pete had ever seen
a civilian do. It was difficult enough to walk out and face the entire motorcycle gang in parlay, but to go out and face their huge leader in mortal combat was something else entirely. Pete grabbed his rifle, and after giving Adam special instructions, he ran upstairs and prepared to cover Paul during the fight.

The biker leader actually looked surprise to see Paul walking down the steps. He clearly didn’t think Paul would accept his challenge. When Paul reached the middle of the walkway he stopped and said, with a loud and regal voice, “I, Paul Hernandez, challenge one, Blackbeard, leader of the Fort Worth chapter of the Desperados, to single armed combat, be it unto death. Do you accept my challenge?”

Jeers and catcalls erupted from the bikers, along with a hearty amount of laughter. They seemed particularly entertained by the pot lid Paul held in his left hand, and they offered many interesting and colorful comments about how he should use it. Blackbeard turned to Paul and said, “I accept your challenge to die, you little twit. I’ll enjoy chopping you up in front of your family.”

“That is boastful talk indeed, Lord Desperado, for you have yet to face me in mortal combat. Me thinks your size doth lend itself to your great boasting,” said Paul.

“Are you serious? Quit talking like a fag or I’ll make you suffer before I kill you,” replied Blackbeard, obviously angry at Paul for attempting to mock him. To Paul’s satisfaction, the big man continued to approach with confidence.

“Me thinks the only fag here is you, my lord,” said Paul.

In an effort to loosen up, or perhaps intimidate Paul, the biker leader growled and swung his machete around in large swooping arcs. The thin blade whistled through the air as he walked, but he stopped abruptly when Paul drew his sword. Paul knew his sword looked like a machete, with only the handle visible over his right shoulder, but once clear of its sheath it obviously wasn’t. It was the sword John had given him earlier, a warrior’s blade; not some flimsy, stamped metal, bushwhacker.