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  Clark?

  As a courtesy to my mother, I offer you safety on board my ship. I can provide whatever pleases you: food, warmth, clothing—a soft bed.

  Please, can we talk on the radio? Sam is in immense pain.

  No, I like it here. His brain is small, like a warm cocoon. I think I might try disconnecting the cortex. Never tried it before.

  Ok, Clark, I’ll surrender. Please, let him go, and my friends.

  No, I think I would prefer to destroy them. What do you care, you’re a Stone. They are insignificant.

  A rush of memories flooded over her mind. She watched Sam and Tom play in a sunshine soaked, lush garden. She felt Sam’s concern seeing his mother’s vacant stare through a rain-soaked window. Sam’s anguish punched her heart as she watched Tom leave to work at Fort Dix. She tremored in his anxiety, wanting to protect Lisa Mason home alone in vulnerable Raleigh.

  This man is weak. Forget about him.

  Get out! She focused all her energy into Sam’s consciousness. He screamed, his back arched, and went limp.

  A voice hummed out the radio, “I have no problem killing you, Emelia. As I said, this is nothing more than a courtesy to my mother.”

  Emelia staggered over to the boat’s port railing. Holding her head up against a downpour, she searched the boats finding one with a 20 mm gun. Her arms twitched, entering the jacker holding its trigger. Turning him around, he squeezed loosening a stream of shells across the deck. Its captain and crew sliced in half, she turned the gunner on nearby boats sinking two in seconds. A hard flick struck her shoulder. The gunner fell, chest burst open by a sniper.

  The voice crossed the airwaves into the Diver scuba boat, “I’ll tell mother I tried. Goodbye, Emelia. Say hello to Grandpa Arnold.” Clark’s voice paused and laughed. “Oh hell, say hi to mother as well!”

  A five-inch shell erupted near their small boat. Tom Mason pushed Sam Mason into a rain-soaked donning seat. “Son, are you alright?”

  “Get me in the damn water! I need to recalibrate.”

  Tom helped both Lou Frasier and Sam strap their tanks and then scrambled to get his own gear on. Abu Zaid slid over to aid him, snapping the BC in place and checking weights. Along with Juan Delgado, they guided the men on the ledge and assisted back-rolls into the sea.

  Another burst flung blobs of salty water across the deck. Its shockwave knocked Sheila Briggs over the side. Juan swept up his rifle and opened fire, joining Shaquan White already sending a steady array of bullets at the jacker armada. Abu dove after Sheila.

  Emelia Stone wreaked havoc on the jackers. Capturing the nervous system of a captain, she guided his boat into another, sinking both in a brilliant explosion. Anyone she could grasp became an extension of her wrath. She knew Clark Stone existed. The boogeyman of the Stones. Her grandfather, on occasion, complained having to “get Eva out of a jam.” Translation, Emelia hypothesized, it regarded her Aunt Eva Stone; Arnold Stone “had to help Eva reign in Clark.” She needed to focus on the jacker onslaught. She rolled up her stomper jacket sleeves revealing her dark, lateral lines and tucked back her perfectly bobbed hair.

  Blinding trails of lightening brought rolling thunder up against the boat’s windshield. Bullets drilled into the boat’s side and ventilated its ceiling. Another typical day in North Carolina.

  The Stone Scry © 2019 by Dennis Fueyo. All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover designed by Cover Designer

  Cover image by StockSnap from Pixabay

  Part 3 image by cocoparisienne

  Part 4 image by Rudy and Peter Skitterians

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing: August 2019

  Independently Published

  ISBN: 9781689551632