Chapter 12: Held at Gunpoint

Words : 1835 Updated : Oct 11th, 2025

"Kid, don't try to play mind games with your granddaddy. When it comes to this, I wrote the book." The old man stubbed out his cigarette. Something in the air around him shifted; the temperature seemed to drop a few degrees. He stood, drew a pistol from his waistband, thumbed the magazine release, and set the magazine on the table. Then he fished a few loose rounds from his pocket. He watched Jason, face unreadable, as he loaded the magazine. "I can't give you much time to explain. Make it count," the old man said. A bead of cold sweat slid down Jason's cheek and gathered at his jaw. Drip. The drop hit the dirt with a soft pat. How did this end up with a gun in my face? Jason pinched his thigh hard, half afraid he was trapped in a nightmare. Tss- that hurt. "Sir, that's not funny," Jason said, his composure fraying. The old man didn't blink. "Once I finish loading, if you still won't talk, then you won't need to talk. Ever." Jason swallowed, panic rising. "I spent five years in a coma and only woke up yesterday. I haven't even had time to get my bearings. How could I possibly be part of the Vemhex Society?" He poured out the whole story, down to the last detail-from waking up by Dragon Lake and saving a stranger, to Marlee Juggins taking him home, treating Ian Juggins, and then getting brought to the military camp. He gave every small detail he could remember. When he finished, the old man thumbed the bullets back out of the magazine, then calmly began loading them again. "Now tell me where you learned your medical skills," the old man said, voice like ice. A thousand thoughts stampeded through Jason's head. He could hardly blurt out that he had received King Balam's Legacy, that these skills had only come to him yesterday. Lying wouldn't help. This was an interrogation, not a friendly chat. The old man would check every word later. After a long hesitation, Jason said with difficulty, "It's not that I don't want to say. I promised I wouldn't reveal who trained me." "Oh?" The old man didn't pause. "That's fine. Then don't ever say it." "Come on, old man, enough!" Jason snapped. "Everybody's got secrets. What next-want me to tell you when I hit puberty?" As he spoke, his fingers formed a hand sign. He stood ready to trigger the Stasis Spell at any moment. He might die for it, but King Balam's Legacy was a secret he could not betray. Right then, the old man snapped the magazine home with uncanny speed and lifted the pistol, sighting on Jason's forehead. In the space of a heartbeat, a wave of pure menace slammed into Jason. For a sickening moment, he felt as if he were standing on a battlefield strewn with corpses and blood. "Anyone who tried to get tough with me has been pushing up daisies for decades. Who the hell do you think you are?" the old man barked, taking two quick steps. The muzzle pressed against Jason's brow. "Talk. Did the Vemhex Society teach you medicine and send you to infiltrate the Juggins family?" The steel barrel jammed hard against Jason's head. The old man's face stayed cold, and he looked ready to pull the trigger. "I'll talk," Jason said through clenched teeth, meeting the old man's eyes. "Can you take that thing away first?" A cold smile flashed. The old man moved the gun back a bit, arm steady. Jason let out a long breath and began, voice low. "Heaven and earth, without end..." "What?" The old man blinked, not following. "Heaven and earth, lend me your power..." "Cut the mystic mumbo-jumbo," the old man growled, finger tightening on the trigger. "Freeze!" Bang! The last word snapped from Jason's mouth as he thrust out his hand at the old man. At the same instant, the old man's reflexes kicked in; he squeezed the trigger. The gunshot made everyone outside freeze for a beat, then they swarmed toward the tent. Just then, a body blasted out through the tent flap, tearing out with a sharp whoosh, flashing past them. Thump. A burst of dust shot up from the grass when he hit, the impact heavy. A moment later, the old man strode out of the tent with his pistol, his face dark with rage. A jeep roared up and braked hard in front of the crowd. The door swung open, and Ian Juggins stepped out in a crisp military uniform. "Garrett Zorn," Ian called, "you make commander of the Crimson Legion and think you can ride roughshod over me?" He tugged his coat straight, his face severe. "Grandpa!" Marlee Juggins ran up, breathless, and rattled through what had just happened. "What?" Ian's eyes bulged. He glared at the old man. "You fired?" "Where's the young doctor? Where is he?" Panic flashed across Ian's face as he scanned the area. "I'm fine... cough, cough…" Jason clawed his way out of the grass, gray with dust, looking wrecked. The instant he cast the Stasis Spell, his energy was sucked dry. The old man, though, seemed untouched, and a savage backlash hit him, flinging him like a rag doll. As for whether the bullet had hit him, he wasn't entirely sure. The moment the gun went off, the protective jade amulet on his chest turned searing hot. He'd seen the bullet hang motionless in front of his eyes, and then he'd been airborne. Marlee hurried over and hauled him up. She looked him over, searching. Finding no bullet wound, she finally let out the breath she was holding. "Grandpa, Jason's okay." "Get the young doctor somewhere he can rest. I'll be right there," Ian said. He visibly relaxed, then turned, his face hardening as he looked at the old man. "Garrett Zorn, get inside." He shoved and hauled Garrett back into the tent. Everyone outside pretended not to see, eyes down. Inside the tent, Ian picked up a spent casing. The anger on his face melted into a grin. "My dear commissar, folks on the border like to say Old Ian must have been a bandit in a past life. Since when did you start copying my trick of holding a gun to someone's head?" Garrett Zorn shot him a sideways look and dropped into a chair without a word, pouting like a teenager. Ian snorted. "So now you're commander of the Crimson Legion and I can't chew you out? Don't give me that." Clack. Ian slapped the casing on the table, his mouth set in a hard line. His voice cracked like a whip. "Garrett Zorn, you've sure grown bold. Jason is here because I asked him to save my soldiers' lives, and you pull a gun on him without a word?" "If you're that damn capable, why not just shoot me instead?" Ian yanked out his service pistol and shoved it into Garrett's hands, making sure the muzzle pointed at his own chest. "Go on, if you've got the guts. Put a bullet in your old comrade, so I can stop thinking you're just throwing your rank around." "Enough." Garrett smacked the gun down on the table and rolled his eyes. "The safety's on. Who are you trying to impress?" Caught out, Ian's grin returned. He tucked the pistol away. "Zorn, this is what drives me crazy about you. Always sitting there with a long face, saying nothing. You're not some sweetheart everyone loves. Who besides me wants to guess what's in that head of yours?" He dragged over a chair, sat, and sobered. "All right. Tell me. What do you think?" Garrett undid his collar button and pulled out a necklace bearing a jade pendant with a yin-yang symbol. The jade gleamed with a glossy sheen, clearly top-grade. Looked at closely, a strange sheen of color seemed to move across its surface. "For starters, we can rule out the Vemhex Society," he said in a low voice. "Otherwise, he wouldn't have made it out alive."

Chapter 12: Held at Gunpoint

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