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Disclaimer: Disclaimers are boring. If you really want to know, see chapter 1, otherwise just read on. -( 09/24/03 )

Stumbling Toward Nirvana

By Phenyx Chapter 8

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Jarod, with his wrists still cuffed behind his back, sat awkwardly in the leather seat of the private jet. Beside him, Miss Parker's hands were bound in front of her. Charlie curled on her lap as Parker held him protectively in the circle of her arms. The three huddled together as the plane took off, headed east toward Delaware.

Willie and a second sweeper sat in the seats opposite their captives, glaring menacingly. Lyle sat further up, toward the front of the plane, sipping a glass of champagne. Raines was busily barking orders into a phone, making arrangements for their immanent arrival back at The Centre.

"I'm sorry," Jarod whispered miserably in Parker's direction. "I shouldn't have come."

Cuddling the top of her son's head to hide her moving lips, Parker said, "Not your fault. That bastard was living next door right from the start. He led me to believe that he'd been there for years. They weren't following you, Jarod. They were just waiting for Charlie."

"If I hadn't been there," Jarod hissed. "They'd have left you alone."

"For how long?" Parker whispered.

The despair in Jarod's eyes spoke volumes.

"Momma?" Charlie asked softly. "I'm scared."

Caressing the little boy's head she answered, "Me too, baby."

"Charlie, listen to me," Jarod murmured. "You need to be ready to do exactly what Mommy or I tell you to do, okay? Just be ready."

Charlie nodded solemnly. "They are the broom people, aren't they Daddy?" He asked in a voice so low it was barely audible.

Jarod nodded.

"Well, well, well," Lyle purred as he towered over the trio. "This seems so familial, it gives me a warm fuzzy feeling inside." Raising the champagne flute in his hand, Lyle sarcastically saluted his sister, and drank from the glass. "But, somehow," he added. "I don't thing it's quite safe to let you three sit together and conspire against us."

With a quick glance at Willie and a flick of his wrist, Lyle ordered, "Separate them. And lock the kid up. They'll be less likely to try something."

Charlie immediately began to cry as Parker snarled at the sweeper. Jarod flew out of his seat and kicked Willie away. But the second man punched Jarod in the face, dragging him toward the far corner of the cabin. The little boy in his blue pajamas clung desperately to his mother. For a moment it looked as though Parker may win the tug-of-war over her son. But a well-placed jab to the kidneys from Lyle and Parker lost her grip. Charlie kicked and flailed in the large sweeper's arms.

Parker fought valiantly against the men separating her from her child but to no avail. Willie easily dragged the little boy across the cabin and pushed him into one of the lavatories. Shoving the door closed, Willie twisted the lock and braced a fire extinguisher against the door handle.

Within moments, little Charlie's cries could barely be heard over the thudding and pounding noise he was making. Hammering and kicking at the inside of the door, Charlie begged to be let out. Minutes passed. Gradually, as time continued to tick by, the tone of the boy's voice began to change.

From where they sat at opposite corners of the plane, Jarod and Parker glanced at each other in misery.

The fearful sound of Charlie's cries dropped an octave and the pounding grew. Fear and trepidation faded away from his voice to be replaced by rage. Twenty minutes went by before the pounding abruptly stopped. But furious screams still echoed from the small space.

There was a tearing, cracking sound and a moment later the pounding started again with renewed energy. The thudding noise was now being made by some object much larger than a child's fist or foot. The thin door shook wildly in its frame.

"For crying out loud," the unnamed sweeper exclaimed. "Has the kid got an ax in there or what?"

"Paper towel dispenser," Lyle commented as he sipped a second glass of champagne. "He's torn it from the wall. He'll tire soon enough."

"You don't know him," Parker warned. "His tantrums can last for hours."

"Then we'll simply sedate him once we get to Blue Cove," Raines snarled.

Jarod looked around frantically as tears welled in his eyes. He had to find someway to get them out of this situation. His mind raced at the possibilities for escape. Jarod had little concern for his own safety but Parker's was another matter altogether. One of them had to get away with Charlie. As the scenarios played out in his mind, Jarod realized that only two of the three would escape.

When the noise Charlie was making abruptly stopped, Jarod glanced frantically at Parker. She frowned with concern at the sudden silence. Lyle grinned in satisfaction as the Centre stooges all noticeably relaxed.

However the quiet only lasted for a few minutes before the little boy resumed his screaming and pounding on the door. The enraged hollering came in an unending wail. The thudding sound now bounced higher on the door panel as though Charlie was standing on the toilet and whacking at his target from there.

The screeching rose to a deafening level that grated horribly on everyone's nerves. Ten minutes later, Lyle rose from his seat and stomped angrily across the cabin.

"I'll shut him up," Lyle growled.

Parker and Jarod both started to rise but the sweepers guarding them shoved them back into their seats.

"What the hell?" Lyle exclaimed as he stood in front of the tiny room. Tapping his foot on the carpeted floor, Lyle splashed droplets of water onto his pants. He was standing in a large and rapidly growing puddle.

With a growl Lyle tossed aside the extinguisher and yanked open the door. From his position at the opposite side of the plane, Jarod could see into the lavatory. Charlie was standing on the commode with a badly dented towel dispenser in his hands. The faucet on the sink was running and water flowed out of the basin and onto the floor. Charlie had stuffed the drains with paper towels and turned on both taps. Streams of water poured onto the floor creating a puddle nearly two inches deep.

Lyle snatched the little boy from his perch with a snarl and shook him in the air like a rag doll. Charlie hissed and scratched at his uncle fearlessly. Twisting in the man's grasp, Charlie found the nearest unprotected area and bit down hard.

Lyle gasped, pulled back one hand and slapped the little boy to the ground. Not hesitating for a moment, Charlie sprang to his feet, dashed around Lyle's legs and ran straight into his mother's arms.

Red-faced and sweating from exertion, Charlie glared at his uncle from the protection of Parker's embrace. A droplet of blood trickled down the boy's chin from a cut on his lip.

Lyle stalked toward Parker, prepared to pull the boy away again. Charlie began to scream in a high-pitched wail of rage.

"Stop it," Raines groaned. "Lyle! Leave him be." He demanded.

Lyle wavered for a moment before stomping back to the restroom to turn off the tap and tend to the angry bite mark on his hand.

Jarod stared in awe at his son. Parker was tenderly rocking the boy back and forth, caressing his damp brow as she soothed him.

"He has my temper," Parker had said last night. "And your tenacity."

Jarod could hardly believe what he had just seen. A three-year-old had defied the will of The Centre, and he had won. The little boy was right where he had wanted to be. Jarod had never been so proud in his life.

Jarod glanced at Parker but she was focused solely on hushing the child. Jarod was stunned as it occurred to him that Parker had no concept of his amazement. Why should she? Parker had never understood how incredible her force of will could be. The strength that she had always possessed had been glossed over by so many people in her life, rarely admired. Parker did not recognize that special quality in her self. As a result she could not see it in her son.

Parker believed that Charlie was like his father, but Jarod now knew just how much the boy was like his mother. Little more than a year out of diapers and this child already possessed a strength of character and determination far greater than most grown men. In the years to come, Jarod knew, Charles Parker would be a force to be reckoned with.

Charles Parker - As Jarod turned the name over in his mind, he had an epiphany. His son was heir to the Parker legacy. With complete certainty, Jarod abruptly knew that Charlie would one day be Chairman at the Centre. What the Centre would become would be based on the leadership of this little boy. That leadership, the type of man Charlie grew to be, would be shaped by those who raised him.

Raines and Lyle could ensure another generation of terror and oppression for those who suffered under them. Or, Parker could raise the boy to be the tender hearted, determined fighter that she had always been. As if seeing into the future through a looking glass, Jarod could imagine both possibilities. Charles Parker could be a powerful, dangerous link in the chain of Parker evil or, he could break the prophecy and put The Centre back on a more righteous path.

Jarod glared menacingly across the cabin to where Raines sat. Staring at the gray-skinned ghoul, Jarod caught the old man's eye. For a long moment the two exchanged unspoken threats. Raines knew. He knew that Charlie was the future.

As the jet touched down at The Centre's landing strip, Jarod searched around him frantically. There wasn't much time left. Once they were inside the Centre, things would be beyond his control. Jarod calculated his options. Parker was in more danger than any of them. She was now expendable in the eyes of The Centre. They would kill her and they wouldn't wait long to do it.

The plane coasted to a stop and the two sweepers dragged Jarod to his feet. Shoved roughly out the door, Jarod felt panic rise in him when he noticed two separate vehicles parked on the tarmac. He struggled frantically as he was pushed into the back of a delivery van and his cuffs were attached to a chain bolted to the floor. As the doors to the van slammed shut behind him, Jarod could see Parker and their son being forced into the back of a limousine.

"Please, oh please," Jarod thought. The rational part of Jarod's mind knew it would be illogical to kill the mother as the child watched. Such an action would only ensure the boy's continued hatred and defiance. Raines would want to befriend little Charlie, gain his trust. They wouldn't hurt Parker while Charlie was with her.

But the sensible, thoughtful part of Jarod's psyche was rapidly weakening against the panic that screamed through him. Fear and desperation were clawing at Jarod's mind. Fighting to stay calm, Jarod ceased his struggling. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing in a deep easy rhythm. He needed to stay sharp so he brutally forced his feelings aside. If he were to get his family out of this, Jarod would have to act quickly and instinctively. There would be no time to think or feel.

By the time the van stopped in front of the stone tower of The Centre, Jarod was ready.

Because they expected it, Jarod fought the sweepers that pulled him from the van. His struggles served to slow their progress enough for Jarod to glance around. The limo had arrived first. Parker and Charlie were already being led through the Centre's doors. Jarod managed to quicken the pace without alerting the sweepers so that moments later, he was standing in the lobby only a few yards from where Parker clutched her son.

Jarod's gaze, flat and icy cold with determination, met Parker's. In a flash of silent communication, he warned her of what was about to come. A stern looking woman in a dark suit stepped up to Parker and spoke.

"Hello, Charlie," the woman said. "My name in Ellen. I'm going to look after you while your mother takes care of some business."

Parker snorted rudely in reply. "Don't you touch my son," she growled.

The other woman grabbed the little boy as Willie roughly took Parker by the shoulders. In the blink of an eye the child had been torn from his mother's arms.

Charlie began to scream at an ear-splitting volume.

Jarod jumped at the opportunity. Charlie's thrashing and wailing provided only a minimal distraction, but it was enough. With a smooth fluid motion, Jarod twisted against the sweeper to his right and lashed upward with the back of his head. Jarod felt bones crunching against his skull as some part of the other man's face fractured.

Kicking viciously as Jarod had once learned in a jujitsu class, a whoosh of air was forced from the sweeper to Jarod's left. As the injured man went down, Jarod whirled gracefully, landing on the sweeper's chest with one knee, crushing his ribs. It took less than two seconds for Jarod to roll over the gurgling man's body and take his weapon from the holster.

By the time anyone else in the room could react, Jarod was ducking for cover as he fired the gun from behind his back. Even handcuffed and shooting from this awkward position, Jarod's aim was deadly accurate.

The first bullet went through Willie's eye, sending bits of blood and flesh spattering on the wall behind him. Too startled to realize he was dead, the sweeper stood swaying for a moment until Parker wrenched herself away, pushing him to the ground as she dashed toward her son.

Stern-looking Ellen was Jarod's next target. He shot her in the throat, a mere three inches over the top of Charlie's head. Parker had the little boy back in her arms before the other woman could drop him.

Pressing Charlie against her chest Parker whispered fervently, "Close your eyes, baby. Don't look."

Wrapping his small arms around Parker's neck, Charlie whimpered and buried his face in the crook of her neck as chaos broke out around them. Parker plastered herself against the wall, desperately trying to protect Charlie as pandemonium ensued.

Jarod dodged to his left, drawing attention to himself and further away from Parker and the boy. Sliding on the tiled floor, Jarod rolled backwards and like a contortionist, he wriggled his butt through the circle of his chained wrists. Even from this distance, Parker should see his shoulder joints popping beneath his shirt.

When Jarod rose to his knees a heartbeat later, his hands were no longer behind his back. The gun went off twice more, dropping two more of the oncoming guards.

Parker searched around, frantically looking for some means of escape. She saw Lyle on the floor not far away, inching his way toward her on his belly. Parker could see the fear in her brother's eyes, the anxious knowledge that Jarod had just changed the rules of the game. The pretender had never before lashed back in such a manner. He had never been so dangerous.

Parker turned and ran. Staying as close as she could to the wall, Parker headed toward the doors and freedom.

"Stop her!" Raines yelled over the shots. "Get the boy!"

Three more sweepers appeared as if by magic, blocking Parker's way. With a burst of speed she dodged in another direction hoping to elude them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lyle raise his gun toward her. Parker's thigh exploded in pain as a burning sensation ripped through her leg.

Stumbling to the ground, Parker crumbled over her son, protecting him with her body. Parker scrambled for cover as she dragged her useless leg behind her. Looking around, Parker saw Jarod only a few yards away, stealing a new weapon from a downed sweeper.

"Charlie!" Parker hissed. "There's Daddy. Run to Daddy, sweetheart!"

Charlie's arms squeezed her harder and he whimpered."

"Move, Charlie. NOW!" Parker's stern voice offered no room to argue. She pulled her boy away from her body and set him on his feet. With a firm nudge in the right direction Parker commanded, "Go!"

The little boy dashed away. Strangely enough, over the din of gunfire Parker could hear the whisper of the child's padded pajama clad feet as he ran. Jarod scooped the boy up one handed as Charlie reached his side. With the boy under one arm, Jarod continued to shoot with the other hand.

Jarod glanced at Parker for only a split second before he abruptly ran in the other direction. Parker shivered. The hard blank look in Jarod's eyes was frightening. Parker knew that he would stop at nothing to protect their son. Her eyes filled with tears as she mentally wished the two of them good- bye.

Parker screamed when Jarod's body suddenly jerked forward. The pretender went down hard, a bright red stain forming over his shoulder blade.

A roar of frustrated rage burst from Jarod as his gun began to click on an empty magazine. "Run, Charlie!" Jarod yelled, pointing toward the doors. "Run and hide!"

Clutching her wounded thigh, Parker added her voice to Jarod's. "Run away, Charlie! Run!"

The little boy, panicky tears trailing down his cheeks, scrambled to his feet and ran. As more sweepers rose to block the doorway, Charlie instinctively changed direction. Zigzagging like a rabbit fleeing a wolf, the boy skirted around several pairs of hands and scooted under a bench.

A big sweeper that Parker didn't recognize pulled the bench away from the wall to grab at the little boy. But Charlie wasn't there. Small blue feet disappeared in to a black square in the wall. The air duct wasn't large enough for a man to squeeze through but there was plenty of room for a small boy.

"Run and hide!" Jarod hollered.

"Get that kid!" Lyle cried.

One man stood guard over Parker and two others towered over Jarod. The rest of them fanned into two groups and ran off down separate corridors in pursuit of the missing child.

"Secure these two," Raines hissed at Lyle before turning and stalking down the hallway.

Lyle grinned evilly as he stood over his two wounded captives. With a deceptively calm smile on his face, Lyle picked up one foot and pressed it against Jarod's torn shoulder. The pretender grimaced with pain but refused to cry out. He glared murderously at Lyle from his position on the floor.

Lyle's grin broadened. Without a word, he stepped over Jarod's prone form and kicked Parker in the stomach. Jarod surged off the ground with a growl of hatred. Parker lay gasping as she watched Lyle take aim at the pretender again and pull the trigger.

Jarod didn't even flinch as the bullet thunked into the floor just inches away from him.

"You can't kill me," Jarod snarled derisively. "Not even you have that kind of clearance."

"True," Lyle purred. "But wounding you is not only permitted, it is encouraged." Lyle leaned forward and placed the muzzle of his gun against Jarod's kneecap. The evil grin grew as Lyle began to squeeze the trigger with agonizing slowness.

"NO!" Parker cried. Thrashing out with her good leg, Parker caught Lyle in the lower back, pushing him forward and into Jarod's lap.

The two men struggled furiously as Parker did her best to knock the other sweepers away. A shot rang out and Parker held her breath. She watched in fascinated horror as her twin and her lover fought.

The gun went off again and Parker realized that one of the sweepers had fallen. Jarod had shot him through Lyle's body. Reaching forward awkwardly, she grabbed one of the remaining men and yanked him off his feet. He fell against the tile with a sickening crack and was abruptly still.

When Parker turned back, Jarod had just kicked the third sweeper into unconsciousness. Gasping in exhaustion, Jarod swayed drunkenly, holding his bleeding shoulder with one hand and the hard won pistol in the other. Lyle was lying on the floor, spitting blood from internal injuries.

Straightening with determination, Jarod stood panting over Lyle.

"You can't kill me," Lyle laughed around a mouthful of blood.

"Why not?" Jarod asked with cold curiosity.

"I'm unarmed," Lyle chortled. "You aren't a murderer."

Jarod scoffed. "I can be anything I want to be," he said in a dangerous tone. Then with a steady, almost casual air, Jarod shot the wounded man through the forehead. Too shaken to look at the carnage around her, Parker clawed her way to her knees and crawled to the air duct.

"Charlie!" she cried into the void.

From the darkness she could hear deep voices, the sounds of pursuit.

"Charlie!" she called again.

Thundering footsteps were coming down the corridor toward them. Sweepers, drawn by the gunshots, were coming back.

"Parker," Jarod hissed urgently as he grabbed her shoulder. "We must go. There are too many of them."

"No!" she twisted away. "I won't leave him. Charlie!"

"We need help," Jarod argued. "We'll bring back help."

Echoing from the black vent Parker could hear them chasing her son. "This way! He's this way! Cover the other room!" Thudding sounds of running feet pounded from far away.

Similar noises, much closer, were coming down the corridor.

Suddenly a child's voice screamed from the vent only to be cut short abruptly.

"Charlie!" Parker threw herself against the wall desperately trying to follow her child through the small aperture. But a vice like grip fastened around her upper arm and yanked her to her feet.

Parker began to thrash wildly as desperation overcame her, "Charlie!" she cried again.

"PARKER!" Jarod yelled at her. "They won't hurt him. They WON'T hurt him."

Large frightened eyes filled with tears as she glared angrily at the man before her. "Like they didn't hurt you?"

Something flickered in those hard brown eyes. Emotion flared for a fraction of a second before the cold determination of survival quickly replaced it.

"I won't leave my son," Parker growled.

"I know," Jarod replied.

Parker saw the blow coming just a moment too late. She braced herself, cringing as Jarod hit her. Then everything went black.

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