Free Winters Family Psi Chronicles 2: Project Onyx by John O'Riley

the floor unconscious several feet away. A tranquilizer dart lay on the floor a couple feet off beside him. Russell had already picked himself up off the floor. Brian shot him a questioning look.
    “What happened?” he asked.
    “I shot him in the leg,” Russell said with a smug grin. “You had him distracted with whatever it is that you do so he didn’t notice right away. He almost knocked me out but that stuff in the dart finally kicked in.”
    “I can’t stay awake,” Brian said weakly.
    He pushed himself up off the floor and almost fell over. Pain seemed to be shooting at him from every direction. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He stumbled toward the door that led out of the room and fumbled with the knob. Finally, he managed to turn it and throw the door open. He and Russell stepped outside on a rundown, black asphalt parking lot. A forest surrounded them with a dirt road cutting through it. The closest vehicle was a dirty silver sedan that looked like it hadn’t been washed in months. Farther away was a shiny black SUV and beside it was silver Lexus sedan.
    “We’re going to have to take one of their cars,” Russell said.
    “I need to sit down. Why don’t you get keys from one of them inside?” Brian suggested.
    “Okay.”
    Brian sat down on the hood of a silver sedan as Russell stepped back inside the building. He emerged with a set of keys containing a remote in his left hand and a cell phone in his right. Russell pointed the remote at the three cars and tapped the button on it. The black SUV chirped and the headlights blinked once. He pushed another button to disengage the doors as he smiled widely.
    “We have to hurry,” Brian said.
    “Why?” Russell asked curiously.
    “Samantha’s waking up,” Brian said.
    Russell’s eyes widened with alarm and he swiftly climbed in behind the wheel of the bulky, black vehicle.
    “Is this the man’s car?” Brian asked.
    “Yes. His name is Brandon and he’s got advanced psionic training,” Russell said. Brian threw him a questioning look. “I picked up on it when I took the keys. He’s very disciplined and has a strict daily routine. He exercises first thing in the morning for an hour every day. He always has chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast on Sunday morning and he’s killed a lot of people.”
    “He’s a real sicko,” Brian said emphatically.
    “Tell me about it,” Russell said.
    He carefully drove down the narrow, dirt road until Brian warned him that Samantha had regained consciousness. After that, he went a lot faster. Branches scraped the sides of the truck as Russell swerved back and forth on the twisting road. Finally, they reached a city street. After awhile, they had obviously reached the outskirts of a town.
    “We’re in Arlington,” Brian said. “I’m not sure where but I recognize this place.”
    “Too bad this truck doesn’t have a GPS unit,” Russell said grimly.
    “Give me the phone and I’ll call the police,” Brian said.
    “What will you tell them? We’re somewhere in Arlington?” Russell said sardonically.
    “I’m sure I’ll figure out where we are soon.”
    Russell frowned doubtfully as he handed over the cell phone. Brian intently gazed at the roadside as he struggled to find something familiar that he could identify. Abruptly, it fell into place and he figured out exactly where they were located. He gave instructions on how to get to his grandfather’s house which was only about six miles away and dialed 911.

 
     
    Chapter 7
    Brian must have blacked out because he found himself lying on the twin bed of his grandfather’s guestroom. The walls were painted a soothing sky blue with minimal furnishings including a painting on each wall dominated by light shades of green and blue. Two strangers donned in dark gray and black suits paced the room. One was a medium set man in his late twenties with brown hair and the other was a short woman reaching about four feet with long brown hair secured in a