The Deadly Twelve Book Four

DEDICATION

To my father, Nathaniel Cash, Sr.

I miss you more than you will ever know

April 18, 1931-October 14, 2015

RIP

TABLE OF CONTENTS

COPYRIGHT

DEDICATION

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

The forest was so quiet they could hear the chirp of insects. It had only been a few minutes since the loud blast of a bullet exploding from the barrel of a gun had pierced the silence. The bullet had whizzed with speed through the air but had appeared to be in slow motion as it penetrated the front of Charles’ head and exited out of the back. His lifeless body had fallen to the ground as Chassie screamed out in terror. Moments later she had been knocked unconscious by Rasul.

Matchitehew had stood next to Rasul with a mocking smile on his face. He was the leader of a sector of the Natosapi clan of the Blackfoot Nation. He was seventy-five years old. His face was full of lines and creases…across his forehead…in the grooves between his cheekbones and nose…on both sides of his lips. The corners on each side of his mouth turned down and there were deep lines trailing from his mouth to his chin. His stark white hair was long—hanging all the way down his back—and so thin that his scalp peeked through in several places. He always wore it parted in the middle and loose so that when the wind blew, the thin strands waved in the air like reedy weeds sparsely sprouting from dry dirt. His body was thin and his upper back had an excessive curvature—a hunchback—but his powers were excessively strong. The only Natosapi with powers as strong as his was his much younger brother, Askuwheteau.

Matchitehew had wanted to just kill Chassie—shoot her just as Rasul had shot her father—but he still needed her alive for now. So, he had told Kestejoo to pick her up and follow him.

A deep crease had formed between Kestejoo’s eyebrows when Matchitehew had given him the order to pick up Chassie and he had eyeballed Matchitehew sideways—giving him a look like he had gone crazy. Kestejoo was a short, over-weight and middle-aged Natosapi man with a lot more body fat than muscle. He was bald on top and he wore the hair at the back and the sides of his head long so that he could pull the strands back into a ponytail. He was barely strong enough to pick up a chair much less a teenage girl and his eyes darted to the much younger men of the clan that could have picked her up with ease. But he didn’t dare contradict Matchitehew or even offer a suggestion. He had just reached over—grunting with the strain of every movement—picked Chassie up and slung her over his shoulder.

As Matchitehew and Kestejoo walked away, the Natosapi clan stayed in a circle within the clearing of the forest surrounding John, Alissa and Rasul. John was on his knees and two men held his arms behind his back. Alissa was kneeling next to him with one man holding her arms behind her. Rasul stood over them, grinning like the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland. Matchitehew had told him to kill them.

You heard the man, said Rasul to John in a low, sinister voice. He pointed his gun at John’s head, stepped closer to him and curled his finger around the trigger. I’ve wanted to get rid of you since the first day I saw you with Chausiku.

John struggled to break free of the men holding his arms but he barely budged. He felt a knee jab into his back then his face was pushed into the dirt on the ground to hold him still. He had never felt so helpless. He had abilities…supernatural abilities. He could break a boulder in half as if he were tearing a piece of paper. He could sprint at the speed of the world’s fastest car. So could Alissa. But now his powers were gone…thanks to the Natosapi clan. They had abilities too. The ability to sense the other clans when they used their powers. The ability to locate the other clans when they used their powers…and the ability to extinguish the other clans’ powers.

John could still feel the nausea rising from the pit of his stomach as his abilities continued to drain from his body. It was the same for all younger descendants of a clan. It took time to get used to the feeling and the length of time was different for everyone—except for Chassie. She was too strong to feel nauseous and it had taken fifteen Natosapi combining their abilities to drain her powers. He turned his head towards the wooded area to search for her. Dirt rubbed across his forehead. His eyes found her limp body swaying behind Kestejoo’s body face down and being carried away. Her mass of curly hair fell downward from the nape of her neck and her arms dangled toward the ground. His eyes narrowed in anger. CHAZ, he yelled. She needed to wake up. She needed to fight for her life. But she didn’t move. Her body disappeared into the dense trees.

You’re a horrible man, said Alissa glaring at Rasul. Her mouth puckered with disdain. And you’ll get what’s coming to you one day. She wasn’t as nauseous as John because she was using her Kung Fu training to push the sickness out of her mind. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply to keep the nausea under control. She had to think clearly. She didn’t know what she could do yet but if she didn’t do something soon, she and John would be dead…just like poor Charles. She glanced sideways at his crumpled body on the ground a few feet away. Blood from the hole in his head ran down his face and into a pool in the dirt. His eyes were still open with the vacant stare of the dead. She quickly averted her eyes then looked back at Rasul. She would not die at the hands of this blood thirsty monster.

Rasul tilted his head to look at Alissa and their eyes locked. He laughed, a nasty sardonic laugh as his hand moved slowly until the gun he held was pointed at her head. He looked back at John. Maybe I should kill her first and let you watch.

Enough Rasul, said a man breaking from the circle and walking up to Rasul. He was in his late forties. He had black and silver chin length hair that parted on the side and fell across his forehead. His build was thick but not at all fat. His jaw was square, and a scar ran across his right cheek from his ear to the tip of his mouth. He wore an open-collared shirt with fabric inspired by Blackfoot tribal designs and black pants. A custom silver band bracelet with two long raised blackbird feathers that met in the middle covered his wrist. The feathers were symbolic of the meaning of his name—Chogan. You’re not killing them here unless you plan to carry three bodies into the forest and dispose of them yourself.

Rasul’s head whipped around and his eyes shifted over Chogan’s face. "Who are you to tell me what to do? he snapped. I’m not disposing of these bodies. They can do it." He nodded his head at the Natosapi men.

Chogan crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Rasul with emotionless eyes. I’m Matchitehew’s oldest son, he said in a monotone, so when he isn’t around, I make the decisions for my clan. Three of my cousins will walk with you into the forest so that you can kill these two. He nodded his head toward John and Alissa. Then you can return to get Chausiku’s father and bury him in the forest as well. Make sure you bury them deep. I don’t want hikers to smell rotting bodies in a few days.

Rasul sneered. I’ll do no such thing.

You will, said Chogan narrowing his eyes threateningly. The barrel of several guns fixed on Rasul. The Natosapi held the guns cocked and ready. They stared at him as if daring him to move. Now, Chogan continued, lower your gun.

Rasul frowned then lowered his gun. There were too many Natosapi to fight and live. He would do what they wanted…for now. But he wouldn’t forget Chogan’s condescending tone. No one talked to him that way and got away with it for long. He shrugged. Fine, he said nonchalantly. We’ll do it your way. He put his gun back into his shoulder holster.

Chogan smirked. Good decision. I’ll see you back at the compound when you’re done. He turned to look at his brother and sister. Let’s go, he said. Then he walked toward the thicket of trees.

A very attractive man in his late thirties nodded. His long black hair was parted in the middle and one side fell across his shoulder. He wore a pair of jeans and a thermal black T-shirt with Proud to be Blackfoot written on the front of it. A taut body with a muscular build could be seen through the fabric of the shirt. A silver pendant with the image of a howling coyote hung on a braided leather necklace around his throat. The coyote was the meaning of his name—Apisi—and he never took it off.

You coming? Apisi asked. He eyed his sister, Sokanon, sideways and their eyes locked. One side of his mouth lifted in a sardonic grin. She gave him a small wicked smile back and lifted her head in a slight nod. He turned on his heels to follow Chogan.

Sokanon was in her mid-forties, slightly plump and had piercing black eyes. Her hair was black and streaked with a couple of strains of gray. She wore it cut in a chin length hairstyle that was parted on the side and had the short side tucked behind her ear. She was born in Alberta, Canada like her brothers and father but she lived in Montana. The collar of her lightweight jacket was turned up to cover her neck from the cool Chicago wind that had appeared suddenly. She was glad that she had worn her black sweater with her black suede skirt and black boots. She was also very proud to be Blackfoot, so she always wore something made by First Nations of Canada or Native Americans. She just didn’t like wearing T-shirts. Today, she wore a Warrior Ledger Scarf designed by B. Yellowtail and John Pepion. It was a bold accent to her all black outfit. She looked up at the sky and saw clouds forming below the black night. She frowned. She would have loved to go with Rasul and watch him dispose of Chausiku’s two friends but it looked like it was going to rain and she didn’t want to be caught in it. She loathed getting wet. Ironically, rain was the meaning of her name.

Oh well, she thought, next time. She walked over to Rasul, put her hand on his shoulder and looked at him with a glint in her eyes. Have fun, she said giving him a smug smile and patting him on his back. Then she turned to follow her brothers. Come on, Sinopa, she said, glancing over her shoulder at her daughter as she walked.

Sinopa dropped her hands from the large circle of Natosapi surrounding John and Alissa. Her head had been down and her dark brown, oval eyes glued to the ground throughout the whole scene that had unfolded to her shock and dismay. Her shiny, waist length hair was black as night and parted in the middle. It fell over her eyes like a shield. She shivered slightly even though she wore a black hoodie over her top and jeans. She was just as proud to be Blackfoot as her family…she just wasn’t all that proud of being Natosapi at the moment. She took a few steps forward then she looked back at John. He was only sixteen-years-old…like her…and her grandfather had given the order to kill him. Just like that. Without emotion. Her eyes darted to Alissa. No one had told her there would be a girl with Chausiku in the forest who was not much older than her. Her grandfather had ordered her death too. She frowned. She wanted to help them. But what could she do? She had just received her powers on her birthday a couple of months ago. She wasn’t even sure how they worked yet. She had just stood in the circle and concentrated like the rest of her family…as she was told to do. She knew they were going to take Chausiku…but no one had said anything about killing anyone.

SINOPA…I said come on

Sinopa’s eyes widened as her mother’s voice jerked her out of her thoughts. She took one more peek at John and Alissa and her shoulders slumped in sad surrender. Then she hurried after her mother. The large circle of Natosapi clan members peeled off one by one and followed behind her until there were only three men left—the two men holding John down and the one man holding Alissa’s arms behind her back.

Rasul sneered at Sokanon’s back then looked at John. Get up, he ordered. He turned brusquely and walked swiftly in the opposite direction of Chogan. The men immediately released their hold and John jumped to his feet…a little too quickly. The Natosapi men eyed each other and increased the intensity of their powers. The nausea that had been dissipating suddenly escalated. He clenched his fist and gritted his teeth refusing to give in to the queasiness.

Alissa rose slowly. She felt the increased drain on her powers but not the nausea. Her training was working. She leaned close to his ear and whispered, John, Remember our exercises in the forest?

He nodded.

Concentrate on the nausea. See it diminishing.

Stop talking and move, said one of the men. He pushed a gun barrel into her back and shoved her forward causing her to wince from the sharp pain.

Hey, said John angrily. He shoved the man and pulled back his fist. He didn’t have his abilities but he could still fight. Another guy swung his gun into the air and hit him in the back with the handle. He grunted and hit the ground. The guy raised his gun to level another blow but Alissa grabbed his elbow.

Stop. Please. We’ll walk quietly. You’re going to kill us anyway so there’s no need to beat us up.

The guy jerked his arm from her hands, looked at John and then back at her. All right. Get him up and then move.

She rushed to John’s side and helped him get up. Keep your eyes on me, she whispered out of the side of her mouth. The men didn’t notice. Rasul was already a few feet ahead so she hurried to catch up. John and the three men followed behind her.

CHAPTER TWO

Matchitehew walked purposefully through the woods, weaving through trees and stepping on fallen branches that rested on the ground. Kestejoo walked behind him, grunting occasionally as he shifted Chassie’s body on his shoulder to keep her from falling off. The trees were so dense that not even the stars or the moon broke through the darkness. The crunching sound of wood cracking beneath their feet filled the air. They had driven their car as deep into the forest as possible so that it wouldn’t be seen but it was still over a mile from the clearing. By the time they reached the car, Kestejoo was panting and sweating profusely.

Put her in the back seat, said Matchitehew, walking to the passenger’s side and climbing in the front seat.

Kestejoo bounced Chassie on his shoulders a couple of times to balance her as he reached out to grab the handle and open the door. Groaning loudly, he slid half of her body into the back-seat face first then coupled her knees over his arm to shove the rest of her inside. One arm and one leg dangled off of the seat and touched the floor. Her hair covered her face and her cheek was bruised from the punch she had received from Rasul. Poor kid, he thought looking at her as he backed out of the back seat. She just looks like a teenage girl…not some all-powerful prophecy. It’s a shame she has to die. He shrugged then slammed the back door.

It’s just the two of us, he said to Matchitehew as he got in the driver’s side of the car. What if she wakes up? We won’t be able to keep her from engaging her abilities. He started the car and headed toward the road.

That’s why I brought the chloroform, said Matchitehew. He pulled a handkerchief and a small bottle out of his pocket and poured some liquid onto the handkerchief. He looked at Kestejoo and one side of his mouth lifted in a smirk. She won’t wake up for hours. He leaned over the seat and held it over her nose and mouth. Chassie’s body didn’t budge as she unknowingly inhaled the colorless, volatile anesthetic. This should do it, he said a couple of minutes later.

Kestejoo put the car gear in drive as Matchitehew put the handkerchief and bottle back in his pocket. So where do you want me to go? he said.

Drive directly to the compound. My children and the others will meet us there. Zolin should be there by now and some of the others.

The deadly twelve are almost in place, said Kestejoo, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small smile.

Matchitehew chuckled. "Is that what you call them? Well, I’m deadly…we’ll see about the others." Kestejoo joined Matchitehew in a laugh as he drove out of the forest onto the road and headed for highway I-57.

An hour later they exited the highway and were traveling down a narrow road in the middle of massive farmland. There were tall energy windmills spaced equidistantly apart on each side of the road and rows of cornfields that never seemed to end. Chassie moaned and rolled over onto her back. Her eyes fluttered but she didn’t open them.

I thought you said she wouldn’t wake up with the chloroform, said Kestejoo peering in the rear-view mirror.

"I didn’t think she would, said Matchitehew reaching inside of his coat pocket and pulling the handkerchief and bottle out of his pocket again. This time he doused the handkerchief liberally with chloroform, shaking the bottle vigorously. The crease between his eyes deepened. She’s stronger than the others I’ve used it on." He turned in his seat, leaned over and held the cloth over Chassie’s mouth and nose. She turned her head from side to side a few times then lay still.

Keep holding it, said Kestejoo. Rasul said she can disintegrate people…or even worse, peel just the skin right off of their bones. I don’t want to be one of those people.

Shut up and drive, snapped Matchitehew. He was sick of hearing about Chassie’s powers but he continued holding the chloroform over her nose anyway. He looked down at her face and sneered, tempted to press the cloth firmly on her nose and mouth to suffocate her. Once my plan is in place, he thought, your powers won’t help you. You will die.

They drove for five more miles before the rows of corn disappeared and were replaced by a wrought iron fence on one side. About a mile later, they reached a gate that had a booth in front of it. Off in the distance behind the gate and in the midst of the field of corn rows sat an enormous barn. A young man in a security guard uniform sat inside of the booth. He was in his early twenties and had huge arm muscles. He obviously pumped iron every day…but not because he needed muscle to guard the gate. He was Peruvian and an Amaru. The uniform was just to throw off any nosy travelers or the State Patrol.

Kestejoo drove the car up to the side of the booth, rolled down the window and looked at the man expectantly. He slid the window to the side and poked his head out.

Can I help you?

I’m Kestejoo. He jerked his head toward Matchitehew. He’s Matchitehew. We’re Natosapi…and we’ve captured Chausiku.

The man’s eyes grew wide. He leaned out of the window to get a good look into the car and saw an old man staring straight ahead with an angry look on his face. Matchitehew always looked that way. Then his eyes darted to the back seat and he saw a young girl with bronze skin and dark curly hair covering her face, laying on her side. Her eyes were closed so he couldn’t see if she had green eyes. He furrowed his eyebrows and leaned back inside of the booth.

You still have to prove it, he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Fine, said Kestejoo, raising an eyebrow. Try to engage your powers.

The young man immediately felt lightheaded and then a dizzy feeling made it difficult for him to stay upright in his chair. He frowned, closed his eyes tightly and clenched his hands into tight fists to stop his abilities from draining from his body. He had never met a Natosapi before. He had never experienced their abilities before. He had been training to fight since the day he was sixteen and received his powers. He knew how to engage…crystallize…shoot. He concentrated harder to engage his powers. Sweat beaded across his forehead as he felt a sense of panic. Nothing happened. How do you fight a power drain? He had never felt so helpless in his life. No wonder no other clan wants to be around the Natosapi, he thought.

Had enough? said Kestejoo.

The young man nodded without opening his eyes, afraid that if he moved he would fall on the floor.

Then open the gate, said Kestejoo. He disengaged his abilities and his lips itched to curl into a smile. The younger ones were always so cocky…and so surprised to feel their own vulnerability.

The