Brothers in Stone (Stone Soldiers #2)

By C.E. Martin

In the 21st Century, the men and women of Detachment 1039, protect the United States from magic and monsters. Operating from Miami, America's super soldiers fight a never-ending, secret war against the supernatural...

Led by Colonel Mark Kenslir, a cold warrior cursed to live forever, the team of stone soldiers and psychics are rebuilding their numbers after a campaign to stop a rampaging shapeshifter in the American southwest. Kenslir managed to defeat the prehistoric killer after his most recent return from the dead, but at the cost of his team of living stone soldiers. As he rebuilds the team, word soon arrives that someone else is again on the loose, ripping out and consuming human hearts to steal the memories and forms of civilians.

Kenslir enlists the help of one brave teen and an FBI postcognitive empath to track down the new killer- only to discover there are now two prehistoric shapeshifters loose in the modern world.

Falling back to their headquarters to regroup and replenish their numbers, the Detachment soon find themselves under assault from the ravenous shapeshifters- who are intent on pillaging the military's greatest supernatural treasures.

Can a new generation of stone soldiers and a girl struggling to understand her new cryokinetic abilities turn the tide of battle, or will Colonel Kenslir die at the hands of a shapeshifter again?

• Language: English
• Publisher: C.E. Martin
• Release date: Aug 4, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476484075

C.E. Martin

A Desert Storm-era USAF veteran, C.E. served four years in uniform before returning home to Indiana and worked for seventeen years as a criminal investigator. A long-time fan of pulp fiction and men's adventure, C.E. was first inspired to write by classics like The Destroyer and Doc Savage. When not authoring the latest in his own Stone Soldiers military thriller series, C.E. can be found watching B-movies with his kids or battling virtual communists on X-Box.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Albert Tso always knew he’d have his heart ripped out. He’d just assumed it was a beautiful woman that would do it. Not some pale-skinned, knock-kneed tourist. But there his heart was, dripping blood, in the palm of the puny stranger standing before him.

As Albert slumped over, his life quickly fading, his mind replayed the past several minutes.

He had been sitting in front of his shop, enjoying a gentle desert breeze, when he saw the plume of dust from an approaching car. A crossover, covered in dust, and driven by a pale, brown-haired, average looking man wearing a loud floral-print shirt, Bermuda shorts and sandals.

Albert had watched the brown-haired man walk over to him, wondering why anyone would work so hard to dress like a tourist. The real tourists Albert saw on a weekly basis didn’t even dress that way. In fact, the only tourists Albert had ever seen wearing clothes like that had been on TV shows.

You give tours of the canyons? the brown-haired man had asked. He had brown eyes too.

Yes, sir, Albert had answered, smiling broadly. His aged face was a collection of cracks and wrinkles, from years in the Arizona sun. I give the best tours around.

Albert had looked the young man up and down, noting the sandals which didn’t seem the best footwear choice for a walking tour in the desert.

You know these canyons well? the tourist had asked.

Oh, yes, Albert had said. He’d take the brown-haired man’s money, and happily lead him through the canyons and their branching ravines. Even if he was wearing the wrong shoes for it. What would you like to know about them?

Everything, the tourist had said. Then he’d rammed his right hand into Albert’s chest, just below his sternum. His bony fingers had split Albert’s old, wrinkled skin like it was a grape. Then they’d slipped up, under his ribcage, and wrapped around his heart.

Albert had just sat there, blinking, in shock, when the tourist ripped his heart out of his chest.

Albert had never found the right woman. He’d tried and tried, but he could just never find someone he was willing to settle down with. Probably because he was always expecting them to leave him. Albert had trust issues.

As he slumped over, falling out of his chair, Albert realized that he shouldn’t have worried about a woman ripping his heart out after all. He should have taken a chance, so he wouldn’t end up dead, in the dust, alone.

As his head hit the soft sand, Albert’s last vision was of the brown-haired stranger taking a bite out of his bloody heart.

That was something Albert was sure no woman would have ever done.

CHAPTER TWO

Victor Hornbeck was tired of all these heartless people. Tired of seeing the last few minutes of their lives before they were so brutally murdered.

Well? Agent Pam Keegan asked Hornbeck. She was hovering over him again, trying to look over his shoulder as he gently held the wrist of a dead waitress.

Hornbeck laid the waitress’ wrist back down on her gurney, then began to zip the body bag back up around her. He briefly wondered when he’d get used to seeing all these corpses with their hearts ripped out.

Same guy, Hornbeck said, turning to face his handler. He walked in, began snapping necks and ripping out hearts. His movements were a little different, but it was him.

Different? Keegan asked. Different how?

Agent Keegan was wearing her standard black FBI suit, white blouse and three-inch heels. The big-chested, petite agent, barely over five-four with heels, had blonde hair, cut short, just above her shoulders. She wore just the barest hint of makeup. Her piercing blue eyes were staring, focused on Victor, seemingly boring into his soul.

Victor looked around the crime scene to avoid his handler’s scrutinizing glare. A simple road side diner in Arizona, filled with the corpses of fifteen travelers. All brutally murdered by the Valentine Killer as the media had been calling the murderer. Technicians were busy photographing, tagging and bagging evidence from the diner, while Victor and Keegan stood at the back, carefully examining each body before it was wheeled outside.

Victor turned back to Keegan, lowering his eyes to look at the floor as he so often did. He was faster than normal. He killed them, then ripped out their hearts. And he didn’t eat the whole hearts this time. He moved from heart to heart, rapidly.

Keegan had wondered about that as well. This was only the second of dozens of crime scenes where instead of missing entirely, portions of the victims’ hearts had been found beside their bodies. Hearts with large bites taken out of them. At least now they knew where all the hearts had gone before.

Any familiar faces? Keegan asked. Any faces from before?

No. But it’s definitely the shapechanger. The waitress saw him change each time he took a heart.

And she just stood there?

Victor shrugged. She was pretty scared. It’s not something the average person sees everyday.

Victor wished he could stop seeing it. He longed for the missing persons cases and bank robberies he had started out solving with his postcognitive powers. Touching corpses to see their last memories was giving him nightmares.

Keegan considered her young partner carefully. Victor had black hair, combed down over his eyes. He wore a rumpled, hooded sweatshirt, baggy jeans and dirty white leather tennis shoes. He was almost average height for a man, with pale skin. He looked like he was sixteen, despite his recent twenty-first birthday. His sad brown eyes and his hunched-over stance spoke volumes about the young man’s complete lack of self-confidence.

Do you want me to check any of the personal effects? Victor asked Keegan as she studied him. He hated when she looked at him like that. It reminded him of the nuns who had raised him at the orphanage.

No, we can go back to the Office and let the techs finish, Keegan said. She checked her watch and saw it was nearly four hours since Victor had eaten.

After we get you something to eat.

Victor sighed and wanted to protest. When they’d first been assigned this case, he couldn’t believe Keegan was able to eat while standing in a room with mutilated corpses. It killed his appetite for hours, until her constant nagging to keep his blood sugar up wore him down. After all these weeks, now he just gave in and ate like he was told.

Victor missed the nuns.

CHAPTER THREE

Jimmy Kane was suddenly very happy. The cool, dark theater he had been sitting in, waiting for a movie to start, had abruptly changed to the hot, scorching sands of the Arizona desert. He was back on his bike, barreling along at breakneck speeds. Sweat trickled down his neck, under his leather jacket.

Arms suddenly wrapped tightly around Jimmy’s waist from behind. He knew the grip instantly—Josie.

Then they were standing there, their helmets off, looking at each other under the scorching sun. Josie stepped forward and gave Jimmy a big hug.

Josie Winters, the girl Jimmy had grown up having a crush on. Josie had long black hair, down past her shoulders. She was taller than average, and had an athletic build that showed even through bulky motocross pants and jacket. And the most beautiful green eyes, as Jimmy remembered.

How are you doing? she whispered in his ear.

Jimmy wished he could remember what she smelled like. What anything smelled like. But there were no smells in this dream world.

Josie stepped back and pointed to some beach chairs and a table that weren’t there a moment ago. Let’s sit down.

Josie watched her childhood best friend carefully. The slim, sandy blonde haired boy with brown eyes seemed to be healthy and fine. But Josie knew things weren’t necessarily as they seemed here.

Jimmy took his seat and looked briefly at the glass of iced tea on the table, beads of condensation running down the sides. Their motocross outfits were gone now, replaced by Jimmy’s khaki pants and loose t-shirt, and a bright green bikini for Josie. She decided to let that pass for now.

Try it, Josie said. PJ swears you can taste it.

Jimmy picked up the glass and took a sip. Sure enough, the tea tasted like he remembered. He wondered when the last time he’d really tasted anything was.

How’re things going on the outside? Jimmy asked after another sip.

Josie smiled. I’m learning a lot. The history is just amazing. And you should see my quarters. I have a view of Miami that is stunning.

What about your mom? What’d you tell her?

Josie looked down, momentarily embarrassed. I stuck to the story. We’ve taken jobs as interns at a research facility—we can’t talk about it because of a nondisclosure agreement.

Josie laughed. She wants to fly out and visit us. She’s never been to Miami before.

And my parents?

Josie looked uncomfortable. I haven’t been able to reach them. The Colonel is going to send someone out to check on them today.

Josie didn’t want to worry Jimmy with anything right now. He had enough on his mind.

I finished decorating your quarters! Josie said, changing the subject.

My quarters? Jimmy didn’t understand. Why did he need quarters? He assumed he was in a small room somewhere right now.

You’re right next door to me. Not as a good a view, though.

Why do I need quarters?

The Colonel says we’re only a few days away from the full moon.

Jimmy frowned. The Colonel. Colonel Mark Kenslir, the guy who got him in this mess to begin with. The guy Josie was always talking about. At least Josie wasn’t on a first name basis with him anymore.

I still haven’t said yes.

Josie couldn’t understand Jimmy’s reluctance. You want to stay in here? Forever?

Jimmy stood up from his chair. The sky abruptly changed to night, mirroring his emotions. I wish he’d just let me stay dead!

Josie stood up and took Jimmy’s hand. Her touch was soft and warm—but not like he remembered it to really be.

Jimmy, don’t say that. It’s an opportunity for us to be together again.

Jimmy turned away from Josie. Lightning flashed in the sky, echoing his anger. Together with me as a freak!

Josie stepped around Jimmy. It’s not that bad. You’ll still be you. Just... different.

Jimmy couldn’t help but calm down when he looked at Josie. The sky lightened, a morning sunrise. A cool breeze began to blow in from the north.

I just don’t know, Josie... what if it really is forever? What if they can’t change me back?

Would living forever as a man of living stone really be so bad? Josie asked. She held Jimmy’s hands and looked up at him. In this dream world, he was taller than her.

Jimmy was torn. Accepting the offer to be turned into a living stone soldier would mean he could walk around, in the open again. But it also meant fighting the kind of things that had killed him. It meant giving up his humanity and becoming a hard, unfeeling thing. A parody of himself. Maybe he should just stay here.

Josie sensed the conflict Jimmy was having with the decision. You still have time to think about it. Why don’t we talk about the shapeshifter?

Jimmy moved back to his chair and sat back down. I can’t figure anything else out, Josie. I’ve gone over and over it, but I just don’t know.

Josie sat next to Jimmy, watching him closely.

Just tell me again, what you saw when he was in your head.

CHAPTER FOUR

Josie opened her eyes and sat up. She was back in Storage Room C, still sitting on the black recliner couch next to Jimmy. As she got her wits back, she pulled her hand away from the sweaty grip of the telepath seated next to her.

All better? PJ asked. The middle-aged telepath had brown eyes and bright red hair, cut short and combed back with too much hair product in it. He wore a flashy red and white track suit with matching red-leather tennis shoes. Several gold chains hung around his neck, visible because he wore his track jacket unzipped about halfway down the front, his bare chest showing.

I’m fine, Josie said, getting up. PJ creeped her out with his constant leers and roving gaze. The Colonel had warned her about the telepath and his obvious interest in women, and he had been right on the money. PJ thought he was a player.

Get what you came for? PJ said, grinning at his own suggestive joke. He once again looked Josie up and down.

Josie was dressed in gray sweat pants and a loose gray sweatshirt, her long black hair held back in a single pony tail. She’d foregone makeup and even a shower after her morning workout. But PJ was still creepily interested in her, despite the fact he was more than twice her age.

I need to report in to the Colonel, Josie said. She looked away from PJ, toward Jimmy, still lashed to a handtruck, his gray features locked in the same look of surprise as they had been when he was first turned to stone.

All around the small storage room, other petrified people where similarly tied to two-wheeled carts, ready to be moved out at a moment’s notice. They ranged from lab-coated women, to soldiers, to even a few in business suits—all turned to stone, and in some cases, even their clothing petrified as well.

PJ watched Josie looking at the other stone figures in the room. He stepped in front of her, grinning widely. What say we leave these stiffs and hit the lounge?

Who are they? Josie asked. She stepped to the side so she didn’t have to look PJ in the eyes. He never gave up.

Them? PJ asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the dozen other people in the room with Jimmy. Scientists, guards, agents here at Ghostwind. Nobody special.

Do you talk to them?

PJ laughed. Talk to them? Why?

Josie walked past PJ, toward a woman in a turtle neck and slacks. She had thick, long hair and a gold wedding band on. Unlike Jimmy, the woman’s clothes, and her wedding ring, weren’t turned to stone. Aren’t they lonely?

Whoa! Don’t touch that one! PJ walked up beside Josie. A little too close.

Why?

That’s the Colonel’s wife, PJ said.

Josie was stunned. Colonel Kenslir had been married. What happened to her?

Same as the rest. Petrification gone wrong. It was years ago—long before I was recruited.

Josie looked carefully at the petrified woman. She was very beautiful. Josie tried to picture the Colonel with her—married, happy. She couldn’t imagine it. Does he visit her?

Visit her? The Colonel? PJ started laughing. Nobody comes down here. We’ve got the place all to ourselves.

Why aren’t her clothes petrified?

Synthetics.

Come again?

Synthetic fibers. Only natural fibers petrify, PJ explained. He ran a hand over Josie’s shoulder. Like your sweats.

Josie fought back the urge to vomit at PJ’s touch. She stepped away quickly. She looked around at the rest of the statues that used to be people. Nobody comes down here?

They’re asleep. Dreaming. Like your boyfriend over there. They don’t get lonely. Not like those of us still in the flesh.

PJ stepped closer. So close, Josie could smell his breath over the stench of his horrible aftershave. She stepped away again. Do they even know they’re petrified?

Some of them. We interrogated a few of them after they were turned. But most of them in here and the other rooms have no idea-

Other rooms? Josie interrupted, turning to face PJ. What other rooms? How many are there?

PJ mentally admonished himself for his slipup. That’s classified. You’ll have to ask the Colonel.

The Colonel. Josie suddenly remembered. She needed to report in what Jimmy had told her in his dream state. Speaking of which, I need to report in.

Maybe we could catch a drink after? PJ asked, again leering at her.

I’m not old enough to drink, Josie said. She turned and walked away swiftly. She could feel PJ’s eyes on her as she left the room—no doubt staring at her rear. Such a creep.

CHAPTER FIVE

Colonel Mark Kenslir read slowly over the file in his hands, concentrating on each