The Belial Stone(41)

Laney could hear the smile in Rocky's voice. “Well, apparently someone shot him point-blank in the heart multiple times. It was shredded. There was simply no way for him to recover from that fast enough.”

Jake leaned forward. “Has the M.E. ever heard of any other cases like his?”

“She could only find one case, about twenty years ago in San Diego. Guy was seventy-five. He'd been shot and still fought off his attacker. The two took a fall off a second story balcony. Guy was impaled through the heart by an iron fence. Same thing – heart was completely destroyed.”

“Ouch.” Laney shuddered.

“But that’s all she could find. She’s doing a wider search because I think now she’s just curious.”

“So he heals almost instantly?” Laney thought of Paul’s face after the shotgun blast. What an incredible ability. “That’s got to come in handy. Was there anything else?”

“Yup,” Rocky said, “Apparently Paul, whoever he is, was also rather physically gifted. He had higher than normal levels of type I muscle fibers. In fact, his body consisted of only this type. Which means, he utilized oxygen more efficiently, which should have made him incredibly powerful.”

“I think we can all attest to the truth of that statement,” Jake said.

“No kidding,” Rocky said. “Dr. Nichols said professional athletes, through hard training, can increase their type 1 muscle fibers by sixty percent. That’s only a fraction of what Paul had.”

“So he is a superhuman?” Laney asked.

“I guess that’s about as good a term as any,” Rocky replied.

Laney struggled to assimilate the information with what they knew about the men’s abilities. “But where did he come from? And how did he find another superhuman? I mean, one guy was Asian and one was Caucasian. They can’t be genetically related.”

“I don't know. But I do have officers scouring the area around the church to see if any cameras picked up a shot of his friend. Maybe we can ID him.”

“Any luck ID-ing Paul?” Jake asked.

Rocky’s frustration came through loud and clear. “No. But I’ll let you guys know as soon as we have something.”

Laney nodded. “Okay. Thanks, Rocky. Take care, okay?”

“You, too.”

Laney looked at Jake after Rocky had hung up. “Superhumans? Is that even possible?”

“Well, before my experience in Afghanistan and yours yesterday, I would have said no. But now?” He shrugged.

Laney blew out her breath. “Okay, so we know these guys are physically gifted. We think they’re grabbing men to work at a dig site and we think the site may be in the U.S. This all seems to be related to Drew’s paper. We need to get more information.”

“Any suggestion as to where we get that information?” Jake asked.

Laney looked away, focusing again on the family of deer. She had a feeling that as incredible as it might be, all of this hinged on Edgar Cayce and the Book of Enoch. Drew had used both as references in his paper.

She struggled to remember more about Enoch, but there was just nothing there. All she could remember was that Enoch was Noah’s great-grandfather, and the book was about his trip to heaven. The individual details, though, were fuzzy at best. How on earth could that be related to any of this

And then there was Edgar Cayce and his past-life readings on Atlantis. Somehow, Drew and Priddle had linked them together. But that link wasn’t clear in Drew’s paper. If she’d had the chance to talk to him about the paper, she would have advised him to make the link clearer. But she’d never have the chance now.

Her uncle could probably fill in the blanks on the Book of Enoch, but she only had a passing knowledge of Cayce. They needed someone with a more detailed knowledge of the man.

She looked at Jake. “I don’t suppose you guys have anyone on staff that specializes in the work of twentieth-century psychics?"

Jake's expression was thoughtful. “Actually, I think we might.”





CHAPTER 29



Havre, MT



Gideon stood at the wall of glass at the back of his home. When he’d realized Kensington’s role in the acquisition of the stone, he’d purchased the twenty-acre spread in Havre. Construction had begun immediately, although he had never bothered to tell Kensington where he lived.

Encased almost entirely in glass, the home was a tribute to the clean lines of modern architecture and the style of Frank Lloyd Wright. It was an homage to the conspicuous consumption of the modern age.

No expense had been spared. As far as Gideon was concerned, if he was going to have to muddle through in this life, he was going to do it in comfort.