Seven Psychics

  Seven Psychics

  J.C. Diem

  Copyright 2014 J.C. Diem

  All rights reserved

  Amazon Kindle Edition, License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be copied, resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  ₪₪₪

  Chapter One

  Lying on my stomach in the arid dirt that was so typical of Texas, I was only distantly aware of the heat that baked into my back and legs. A bead of sweat ran from my forehead down to my chin and evaporated before I could wipe it away. My throat was almost as dry as the ground, but I ignored my thirst. My body’s discomforts were irrelevant and I pushed them aside in order to focus on the target.

  A crow gave a mournful croak from one of the few trees that were struggling to survive in the harsh terrain. I wasn’t startled by the noise, I was in the zone where all distractions were forced into the background. My concentration on the target was absolute and nothing could shake me from it now.

  My left eye opened just long enough to check the tattered orange flag that had been planted near the target. It stirred slowly in a faint breeze and I adjusted my aim for a final time as I peered through the telescopic sight. Without my scope, the target was so small that it was barely visible to the naked eye. With it, I could make out every detail of its black, humanoid shape. Its ragged mouth was stretched wide in an exaggerated upturned U-shape. It was grinning at me, daring me to make the kill.

  Holding my breath as I’d been taught, I accepted the challenge and pulled the trigger. The crack of my rifle would have been loud enough to have hurt my ears if I hadn’t been wearing earplugs. I watched through the scope as my bullet tore through the man-sized paper target. The final shot had created a second eyehole, completing the rudimentary face that I’d spent the last couple of minutes creating.

  Cheers sounded from behind me as I removed the earplugs. I stood and brushed the dirt from my plain white tank top and camouflage cargo pants. A baseball cap shaded my eyes as I briefly lifted a hand to acknowledge the praise from my ever present fan club. The onlookers were watching from the long, wide concrete building that housed the indoor shooting range some distance behind me. A few had braved the heat and were standing outside to watch the show. The rest were observing through the windows from inside the air conditioned comfort of the building. Most carried binoculars to better observe the action. All were soldiers rather than civilians like me. Thanks to my family connections, I was able to use the army shooting range whenever I liked, which was nearly every day lately.

  Soldiers were the only people I’d ever felt comfortable spending time with during my school breaks and on the weekends. It was hard to believe that high school was finally behind me now. I’d graduated a couple of weeks ago and now I was just killing time, counting down the days until I turned eighteen. I had big plans for my future and they didn’t involve attending college.

  Years of practice made breaking down my rifle quick and easy. It had been painted camouflage colors to make it blend into the background when lying down in the grass or hiding in trees and bushes. The disassembled pieces fit neatly into my black backpack and hid the fact that I was lugging around a high powered weapon.

  My backpack was heavy when I slung it over my shoulders. I carried only a small amount of ammunition to keep the load as light as possible. The gun itself was weighty enough without carrying a ton of ammo around as well.

  As was expected of anyone who used the firing range, it was my job to retrieve the used target. I took my time to walk the two thousand, five hundred yard distance. It was far too hot to try to hurry my pace. As always, I’d used the target that was at the utmost edge of the range. Only one other person at this particular army base possessed the skills to shoot accurately at that distance. My father, Major Philip Levine was a highly gifted sniper. He’d taught me everything he knew about both using and maintaining a wide range of guns. Normal teenage girls weren’t usually interested in learning how to kill their enemies, but I’d never pretended to be normal. I was far more interested in learning how to shoot than in learning how to do my hair and nails.

  Pausing long enough to take a water bottle out of a pocket of my backpack, I took a sip of the lukewarm water. I’d only been out in the sun for a short while, but I was already feeling slightly dizzy. Heatstroke was a real possibility and I drank half of the water during the long walk to the target. Someone was always tasked with setting up the targets before the shooters turned up to take pot shots at them. I was grateful that I didn’t have to make the long walk there and back twice in this heat.

  During the trek, I had plenty of time to think about what my life would have been like if I’d been raised in a normal family. I’d probably be hanging out at the mall with my friends instead of spending most of my time at the gun range practicing my skills. The truth was, I didn’t have any friends. My dad moved from base to base several times each year. He had no choice but to take me with him since he didn’t have any other family to take me in. My mom had died when I was a baby, leaving my father to raise me alone. I’d never really had the chance to get to know anyone at each new school that I attended and I’d eventually given up trying to make friends with anyone at all. For twelve years, I’d been the weird, quiet loner who no one had wanted to talk to. Those days were finally behind me now and I was far from sad to see them go.

  Reaching the target at last, I studied the damage that I’d done to the black silhouette of a man. My first shot had gone into its heart, just as I’d been taught. The next seven shots had been just for fun. Five bullets had created a wide, sunny grin and the last two had created eyeholes. If my father saw me showing off like this, he’d give me a stern lecture. Fortunately, he was on an assignment overseas and I didn’t have to worry about looking over my shoulder for his disapproving stare.

  Peeling the target free, I folded it in half and walked the short distance to check on the orange flag. Even a slight breeze could ruin the shot and the flag was a good way to judge when to pull the trigger. It was on its last legs and I’d replace it the next time I used the range, which would most likely be tomorrow since I didn’t have any other plans.

  I tucked the target beneath my arm and began trudging back towards the indoor range. I knew someone would want the target. My ‘fan club’ always wanted to keep my castoff kills. I’d only been in Texas for three months, but that was long enough to be able to recognize everyone who frequented the range, even if I didn’t know all of their names yet.

  It was mid-afternoon and I’d been at the range for several hours, first waiting for my turn to use the indoo
r range and then the outdoor one. There was nothing interesting to do at home, but I’d already taken up more than my share of time at the range. Sadly, I was going to have a long wait before I could return to town. My eighteenth birthday was only a month away and it was embarrassing that I still didn’t have my own car. My father was away most of the time and he allowed me to drive his battered old truck in his absence. Unfortunately, his truck had broken down yesterday, leaving me without transportation. I’d had to catch the bus to the shooting range. The buses were few and far between and I could wait anywhere between one to two hours to get a ride home. I’d die of dehydration long before I could walk the distance back to town. I’d have to stand out in the hot sun getting sunburned until the notoriously unpredictable bus finally showed up. If I was lucky, maybe someone might offer me a lift home.

  ₪₪₪

  Chapter Two

  Reaching the small group of soldiers, I received several congratulatory slaps on the back as I passed through them on my way to the door. Enough shade was cast by the building to shield the group from the punishing rays of the sun.

  “You’re up, Tanner,” one of the soldiers said. A crestfallen woman a few years older than me nodded and jogged towards the range with her rifle resting against her shoulder pointing safely at the sky.

  “I’m glad it’s not my turn next,” one of the onlookers said just loudly enough for me to overhear him. “We all look like chumps next to Lexi.” Quiet chuckles were quelled by a glare from their superior officer.

  Pretending that I hadn’t heard the compliment, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Blessedly cool air washed over me. My body gave an inaudible sigh of relief and I instantly stopped sweating. The back of my tank top was soaked and it wouldn’t take long before I’d start to feel cold from the air conditioning. Realizing I’d left my jacket at home, I scowled. I was usually better prepared than this, but I was feeling slightly off today. I’d woken up feeling as if something momentous was going to happen and I’d been distracted all day.

  The praise didn’t stop at the group of soldiers outside. A young man rushed over to me even before the door swung shut. “That was great shooting, Alexis,” Patrick gushed. He was one of my biggest fans and made sure he was at the shooting range as often as possible so he could watch me in action. As always, binoculars hung around his neck. He’d been one of the people watching me through the window.

  “Thanks, Patrick.” He had short black hair, blue eyes, a fit body and was cute enough, but I wasn’t interested in him on a personal level. Maybe because he always stared at me with shining, puppy dog eyes that made him seem several years younger than me rather than a few months older. I rarely found myself attracted to boys my own age. I sometimes wondered if there was something wrong with me. His gaze dropped to the target I clutched in my hand and I held it out. “Do you want this?”

  Patrick’s face lit up at the offer. He was either too proud or too shy to ask me outright for a souvenir. “Do you mean it?” he said, as if I was offering him a precious trinket rather than a tattered piece of paper.

  “Sure. I’m just going to throw it away if you don’t take it.” I’d long ago stopped collecting my kills. Hitting the distant mark might seem amazing to the onlookers, but to me it was just another day at the range. Shooting came naturally to me and I found it hard to understand how anyone could possibly miss what they were aiming for. Then again, there were many things that I couldn’t do very well, so who was I to judge?

  “Thanks, Alexis.” Patrick took the target and stared at me worshipfully.

  It was well known that my father would shoot any man who asked me out, but some guys still dredged up the courage to ask every now and then. At five foot seven, I was a couple of inches taller than average. My build was slight and my height made me seem almost too slender. My hair was long and black and it was currently tied up in a messy ponytail. My eyes were dark brown and I had a shallow cleft in my chin. According to a past admirer, I had an exotic kind of beauty that didn’t come from an American heritage. My mother had been born somewhere in Europe, so maybe that was where I’d inherited my looks.

  Feeling slightly uncomfortable beneath Patrick’s stare, I turned to see someone new watching me. He was in his mid-forties and had a pleasant, if unremarkable face. I was wearing thick soled boots and he was only an inch or so taller than me, which put his height at around five ten. He had short, light brown hair, mild gray eyes and was smiling familiarly, almost as if he knew me. His black suit, stark white shirt and dark gray tie looked out of place among the uniformed soldiers. He looked like a federal agent for a clandestine agency that no one had ever heard of. My lips quirked at my overactive imagination and I had to suppress a smile.

  “Miss Levine?” he asked and extended his hand.

  I was instantly suspicious that he knew my identity. “That’s me.” I shook his hand politely, but kept the contact brief. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m Agent Mark Steel,” he said. “Can I speak to you privately for a moment?”

  I blinked at the title he’d just used, but I wasn’t really surprised to discover that my assessment of his job was accurate. Only a fed would wear a jacket on a day as hot as this. “What is this about?” I had no idea why he’d want to speak to me. If anything had happened to my father, his commanding officer would be the one to break the news to me, not a random agent from an as yet unknown agency.

  We were drawing curious stares from the nearby soldiers. As always, they were protective of me. Several looked as if they were about to step in and ask what business the fed had with me.

  Agent Steel smiled, but beneath his calm veneer, I sensed tension. “I need your assistance, Miss Levine.”

  Patrick clearly didn’t like the object of his crush being monopolized by a stranger and shuffled a few steps closer. Nearly everyone in the building was armed and I was in no danger, but I wasn’t about to put myself at risk and I shook my head in response. “I’m sorry, Agent Steel, but I don’t know you and I don’t feel comfortable speaking to you alone.”

  I was glad he’d approached me at the range rather than at my home. Having a strange man appear on my doorstep would have been alarming. Come to think of it, how had he tracked me down here? He knew my name, what I looked like and he also knew my schedule, such as it was. It would have been stupid not to be wary under these circumstances.

  He nodded his understanding of my reticence, but he wasn’t about to give up that easily. Delving into an inner pocket of his jacket, he took out a cell phone. “It’s very wise of you to be cautious. I’m going to make a phone call that I think will help put your mind at ease.” He hadn’t offered me any kind of identification so far. I had the feeling he was trying to hide his identity from the onlookers. His secretiveness wasn’t boosting my trust in him at all.

  I shifted from foot to foot impatiently, on the verge of turning and walking away. Curiosity was a powerful motivator and I wanted to find out what he could possibly need my help with. I was still a minor for the next four weeks. His problem must be dire indeed if he required the assistance of a teenager.

  Waiting for the call to be answered, Mark turned away from me and spoke into his phone quietly. I took a few steps closer so I could eavesdrop. “This is Agent Mark Steel. I’d like to speak to Major Levine. It’s urgent.” He waited for a short while then straightened his shoulders unconsciously after a short wait as someone spoke on the other end of the line.

  “Mark? Is that really you?”

  I recognized the voice instantly, even with the bad connection that made the line crackle. Apparently, Agent Steel was very well connected. He’d just managed to call my father while he was on a highly classified mission.

  “It’s me, Philip,” Agent Steel verified. “Something has come up and I need someone with unparalleled sniper skills on my team for a short time.”

  “I’m on assignment overseas and I’m pretty sure they’re not going to let me leave any time soon,” my dad repli
ed dryly.

  “You were my first choice, of course, but this is crucial and we can’t wait for you to return.”

  “Exactly what do you want me to do?” My father asked then hesitated, perhaps sensing what the agent was requesting. “Where are you, Mark?” His tone had turned suspicious.

  “I’m in Texas,” he replied. “Standing next to Alexis, as a matter of fact,” he added.

  “You can’t mean…Lexi is just a teenager! She’s not a trained killer!”

  The penny didn’t drop for me for a few more seconds after his protest. The sense that something momentous was about to happen returned and goose bumps erupted on my arms.

  “There’s no guarantee that she’ll have to kill anyone,” Agent Steel replied calmly. “We’re dealing with some very dangerous people and getting too close to them can be extremely unhealthy. I have several agents who should be able to accomplish this mission, but I need Alexis along as a backup just in case things go south.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” my father said in a tight voice. “You want to put my little girl in danger and you expect me to give you my permission to drag her into it?”

  “You owe me,” the agent said in a low voice. I wasn’t an expert, but that sounded a lot like blackmail to me. “From what I hear, Alexis is going to join the Army the instant she turns eighteen. She’s eventually going to end up taking lives whether you like it or not. Think of this as a real life training exercise. I can keep her safe and make sure she doesn’t get too close to the bad guys while she receives valuable field experience.”

  Silence came from the other end of the line. Finally, my dad sighed in capitulation. When he replied, his tone was hard. “If she receives so much as a scratch while she’s in your care, I’ll hurt you in ways that haven’t even been invented yet.” I almost grinned at that. My father didn’t usually display much imagination, but he knew how to threaten someone creatively. He was also speaking the absolute truth. I felt pity for anyone who made the mistake of trying to hurt me. I’d shoot them myself, of course, but if I didn’t kill them, my father would finish the job with his bare hands.