The night was dark except for a few security lights that lit up the perimeter of the plant. Damien Blackwell, the boss man of this plant, sat in his office looking over the days figures. Suddenly every light in the plant went out!
"Hey," yelled one of the guards, "what happened, get those lights back on." A minute or so later the lights came back on, but Damien Blackwell was nowhere to be seen.
Blackwell stirred and opened his eyes to find himself lying at the bottom of a mine shaft. He stood up and felt his way around in the total darkness. The shaft was about 20 feet by 20 feet and the only possible way out was up. The last thing he remembered was the lights going and someone clamping a cloth over his mouth and nose. He blacked out and the next thing he knew he was here-wherever here was.
"What's going on here!" he called trying in vain to scratch and scramble his way up the shaft.
"Is anyone there?" he called again beginning to panic
"Welcome back to the land of the living," said a deep voice from up above him. A light switched on indicating that the shaft was more that a hundred feet deep.
"Who are you!" yelled Blackwell, "I'll have the law on you so quick your head will spin!"
"You are in no position to be making threats, Mr. Blackwell!" snapped the voice switching from mocking to menacing.
"Who are you!" Blackwell yelled again.
"I'm Jarod a man who doesn't like greedy crooks!" replied the voice.
"What are you talking about?" snapped Blackwell. Jarod looked and Jon, who was crouched there next to him at the top of the shaft, and rolled his eyes.
"You know what I'm talking about," retorted Jarod, "I checked your records you're allocated 500,000.00 each quarter to pay for having those chemicals disposed of legally. But you have been dumping the chemicals in this mine shaft and keeping the money for yourself."
"It wasn't fair that those executives at the main offices in New York make that kind of money, and I get stuck in this backwater city making pocket change!"
"NO!" snapped Jarod, "What's not fair is the fact that you have contaminated the ground water and an innocent girl lies near death in the hospital because of your greed!"
Suddenly the light went out and the dark stillness was broken by the sound of a barrel being scooted across the ground toward the top of the shaft.
"What are you doing?" said Blackwell trying in vain to climb up the shaft again.
"This is the oldest form of justice there is," said Jarod with an evil leer in his voice, "it's called a taste of your own medicine!" suddenly there was a clank and the sound of flowing liquid as the barrel was kicked over dumping it's contents down the shaft. Blackwell screamed in terror as the sticky wet burned smelling substance hit him full force and drenched him from head to toe.
"Jarod," he pleaded frantically into the darkness as his voice echoed and re-echoed through the mine, "help me, you can't leave me here I'll die, JAROD!" By this time Jarod and Jon were walking out of the front entrance of the mine to meet the rising sun.
"The police will be here in about twenty-minutes," said Jarod.
"Good," said Jon with a snicker, "it'll take Blackwell that long to figure out that what we dumped on him was actually a mixture of water lime Gelatin mix and powder of burned almonds."
"There's more good news," said Jarod with an even bigger smile, if that were possible, "Sadie responded to the treatment, she's going to make it!"
"That's great!" said Jon, who was now grinning from ear to ear.
Jarod, Jon, Sadie, and her parents sat around the dinner table at the William's home.
"Well," said James Williams as he hung up the phone and sat down at the table, "that was Judd Hawkins from the District attorneys office down at the courthouse. He said that Judge Rinehart threw the book at Blackwell and his confederates; they're going to be behind bars for sometime."
"Good," said Sadie, "they deserve it, as it stands now it'll take the Macron Corporation a long time to regain the respect that it used to have in this community in spite of that public apology that Paul Adler their chief CEO made."
"Right," said Jon, "to say nothing of the millions of dollars that it is going to cost them to clean up the mess that Blackwell made.
"I think that were all still very lucky," said Dana, "number one because Sadie is alright and second because Jon and Jarod were able to stop the dumping before the toxins could seep in to the main aquifer because if that had happened it could have contaminated the drinking water for hundreds of miles around!"
Jarod suddenly stood up,
"What's the matter with me," he said, "I left the cake I made for Sadie's Welcome home party in the car. I'll be right back." With that he disappeared through the door and down the front steps to where his rental car was parked in the drive way. Suddenly Jon slowly rose to his feet as his mysterious ability to just sense things kicked in.
"Something's wrong." He said. With that he hurried over to the window just in time to see Jarod being forced into a jet black stretch limousine at gun point by a short haired blonde who was flanked on either side by men who looked like they had stepped right out of the last Godfather movie.
As soon as they drove off Jon was out the door ducking into the back yard his breathing became steady and shallow and his face became the picture of concentration. His skin began to change he began to sprout feathers his hands began to change and grow talons. Finally Jon was a Red-Tailed Hawk with a piercing cry the hawk took to the air. It didn't take him long to find the limo or to guess by its direction that it was headed for the old emergency landing strip which bordered the nearby wildlife refuge.
The limo pulled up to the emergency landing strip. The blonde stepped out with her gun at the ready.
"Get out, Jarod." She said. Jarod calmly emerged from the car.
"You know Brigitte," said Jarod, "you really have no manners interrupting a party like that."
"Spare me the lecture, Saint Jarod." Sneered Brigitte shoving him toward the waiting helicopter, "you're just sore because you've finally been outsmarted and I'll have the pleasure of throwing your precious Miss Parker out on her butt!"
Suddenly one of the sweepers that had gone on ahead came running back.
"Brigitte," he said, "the chopper pilot is down!"
"What," snapped Brigitte, "What do you mean, he's down?"
"I found him slumped over in his seat," answered the sweeper, "he had a dart in his neck. The dart has some sort of knock out drug on it. That guy will be out for at least six hours."
"No problem," said Brigitte, "Jarod is a pilot." The sweep shook his head,
"That's no good either, whoever drugged the pilot took the tail rotor off and bent it all to pieces it's useless." Suddenly a homemade spear came flying overhead. It pieced the limo's hood and punctured the radiator. Brigitte stood there boiling as she watched the geyser of steam that spewed out from around the head of the spear.
"Listen," she said to the sweeper team, "whoever this guy is he's still here, now spread out and find him!" the three sweepers disappeared into the tree-line. A few seconds later the body of one of them came sailing through the air to land at Brigitte's feet.
"His neck has been broken." Said Jarod
A spilt second later another sweeper came staggering out of the tree with a spear jutting out of his chest and collapsed near the tree-line.
No sooner had he hit the ground than the air was pierced by the fighting roar of a Panther and the terrified scream of the third sweeper. A scream that did sound like it should come from a set of male vocal chords. Brigitte pointed her gun at the tree-line.
"WHERE ARE YOU!" she yelled partly in anger and partly in fear.
"Right behind you!" came the reply. Brigitte whirled around but as she did a pair of hands shot out, caught her gun arm twisted the gun out of her hand and threw her backwards onto the limo so hard that she shattered the windshield. Before she could react Brigitte had the spear that had punctured the radiator at her throat and she found herself looking up into at a man whose face and chest had been painted for war as stood over her on the hood of the car. He raised the spear to strike.
"Come now," said Brigitte, "surely you were taught to treat ladies with respect."
"Yes I was," said the Warrior, "but you know what, you don't count!" with that he swung down and clubbed her with the blunt end of the spear and knocked her out cold.
"Nice war-paint, Jon." Said Jarod with a smile as he open the handcuffs and pulled hands out.
"Thanks, said Jon with a smile, "I learned it from the Umbutu it's the Take-no-prisoners look." Jon walked over behind the shed and came back with another tail rotor and began to put it back on the chopper.
"I can't believe that idiot of a sweeper didn't notice that that banged up tail rotor wasn't even from the same type of helicopter." He said as he finished his task.
"Aren't you going to ask me about all this?" said Jarod motioning to Brigitte and the limo.
"I already know who you are Jarod." Replied Jon, "In an Umbutu secret place there is a prophecy written on the wall that speaks of a great evil that will swallow children. It also speaks of a chosen one, a man of a thousand faces, who would banish this evil forever."
"What else does the prophecy say?" asked Jarod feeling a little stunned.
"You'll know," said Jon, "When the time is right. Now you'd better go before mademoiselle psychopath wakes up."
Jarod and Jon shook hands.
"Call on me if you need me," said Jon
"I will," said Jarod, "farewell my friend, give my love to Sadie." Jon stood there and waved as Jarod flew out of sight.
"Farewell Chosen one."
THE END
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