Authors: Matt Betts
She suddenly felt nauseous. It wasn’t a reaction to the blood or what she was doing to Englewood, it was something internal. Her grip on him weakened and the tendril that had wrapped itself around his wrist was beginning to loosen. As she struggled to maintain her grip on him, her body rebelled with spasms of sharp needle-pricks of pain. She felt light-headed and stumbled. Englewood saw an opportunity and tugged his arm free. He swung at Deena with the knife and managed to cut her across the arm. The pain gave Deena enough of a jolt to keep herself in the fight. She pulled her arm back, and shoved all of the blades that had grown from her hand into Englewood’s chest and then pushed as hard as she could. She stumbled forward and knocked Englewood to the floor, falling on top of him and shoving the blades in with all her weight.
The last thing Deena heard before passing out was Englewood’s piercing scream.
She awoke the next day in the crappy apartment she shared with her sister. Harper had dragged her there after the fight and nursed her to health as best she could. Deena had no scars, no bruises, not a single scratch. But Harper made a point to hand her sister a mirror. What Deena saw there was a sight that made her sit up and look again. In the mirror, she saw herself three years ago. It was subtle, sure. But the definition, the shape was different in her cheeks and chin. “It’s a good thing, right?” Deena said to her sister. “I can use this power and stay young forever. That’s the best power, ever.”
Harper stared at her with pale, vacant eyes.
“What?”
“You’ve been asleep since yesterday. I’ve been sitting here waiting on Marsh’s men to burst through the door and kill us,” Harper said. She nodded over to the coffee table. There were two automatic pistols resting there with a scattering of bullets next to them. “I took them from the gym. I thought I was going to have to use them.”
Deena rubbed her eyes as she stared back at the mirror. “Why would they come for us? They gave us a test and we passed. Why would they have a problem?”
“You killed most of them. You killed Marsh’s men. Why
wouldn’t
they?”
The thought of what happened yesterday was hiding somewhere in her mind, but wouldn’t fully reveal itself to Deena. “Back in school, they didn’t penalize you for passing a particularly hard math test, did they? That wouldn’t be fair.” Deena pushed her hair back, to look at her neck and ears. The changes in her body were so subtle.
50
Morgan took a deep breath as he saw the figures through the picture window. They were moving towards the door.
“Here they come. You’re going to kill them all, right?” Brandt’s words felt hot on Morgan’s neck. “Goddamnit, if you don’t do it this time, I’ll lose my shit.”
The Russian SVN-98 sniper rifle felt right in Morgan’s hands. It was fast becoming one of Morgan’s all-time favorites, even though the experimental model was still new to the market. He’d adjusted for the light breeze, calmed himself and controlled the rising and falling of his chest. As they moved away from the window, he zoomed in closer to the door, anticipated it opening and waited for the first of them to walk out.
“Do you need a breath mint?” Brandt asked.
Morgan’s mom spoke up in her soothing tone. “Juice box?”
“Are you comfy?” Mr. Hector sounded sincerely concerned. “We just want to make sure you handle this right. Your whole future’s riding on it.”
“After all, if you miss, everyone will think you’re a dick,” Nadine said.
“No pressure,” Brandt added.
With his breathing still in check, Morgan waited a few more moments for something to actually happen in the house. The door swung open slowly and his scope was suddenly filled with targets. The blonde agent came into view first, followed by Deena and finally, the black agent bringing up the rear.
“Cookies, maybe? I can make you a nice batch of oatmeal raisin. You used to love those.” Morgan’s mother stepped close enough that her feet were visible next to him as he looked into the scope.
“No. Knock it off, I don’t need anything.”
“Just shoot all of them,” Brandt said.
Nadine leaned close, her breath, stinking of beer and cigarettes, was wet in his ear. “Get this over with, so they don’t come back to haunt you later.”
“Yeah. Hate to see them come back to mess you up.” Morgan could hear Wallace’s voice outside the treehouse, somewhere below them.
“You really shouldn’t have killed Wallace. He was such a nice man.” Mr. Hector suddenly seemed very sympathetic to a man that everyone agreed would probably have killed Morgan, given half a chance. It was pretty much par for the course. The teddy bear could turn on a dime.
“Shut up, he deserved what he got,” Morgan said. “There’s no room in Marsh’s office for both of us. I did what I had to. Ask Brandt, he knows. I was just securing my future.”
Mr. Hector started to laugh and Nadine joined in almost immediately. “Aren’t you supposed to be quiet when you’re sneaking up on someone?” Mr. Hector asked.
Morgan realized that he’d taken his eye from the scope in order to admonish a teddy bear that wasn’t even there. He’d never let his demons distract him from doing his job in all the years they’d been coming to him. They’d faded into the background the moment he’d locked on his targets and he’d successfully completed each job despite their interference.
He leaned back down and put his eye to the scope.
51
The warm sunlight felt good on Deena’s face as they stepped through the doorway. The fresh air was a welcome change from the musty house. She’d miss the place. The city was great for a murderous thug, but that wasn’t her life anymore, she hoped. No. She wouldn’t go back to that. But with every contract killer and murderer suddenly knowing her address, she didn’t see any chance of moving back into the old house. Maybe a nice little cottage in the woods, or something. That would be nice. Something by a stream. Good Lord, she was losing it. How was that childish fairytale ending ever going to happen? She was handcuffed and being led to a car that would deliver her to prison, where she’d live in a cell no bigger than her old treehouse. It wouldn’t be so bad actually living in her treehouse, but to have to be behind bars would ruin it. It certainly wouldn’t have as good of a view.
Deena looked up to see if her former hideout was still on its perch and in good condition. The sides had mostly fallen off, but the floor itself seemed to be hanging in there. Imperceptibly, she saw movement on the platform; the outline of a man was clearly visible laying down and turning.
“Get down,” Deena lunged, knocking Pel forward. As she did, the report of a rifle rang through the woods and an area of the doorframe splintered from the impact of a bullet. She saw Agent Garrett drop to the ground, the bullet landing just a few inches to the right of him.
Strength rose within Deena’s body and her arms felt like granite. She struggled to pull them from the cuffs, but saw that Agent Pel was still exposed to the gunman. Without much thought, Deena stepped in front of the agent to shield her from the sniper’s next shot. “Get inside,” Deena said.
The young agent didn’t need prompting, and was already scrambling back toward the door. When her foot hit the porch, another shot exploded from the hidden assassin.
The white-hot pain that ripped through Deena’s shoulder threw her backward. She’d managed to maneuver herself between the gun and Pel, blocking a bullet that most likely would have found the agent had Deena not been there. Deena stumbled back and fell to her knees. Behind her, the agents had pulled out their sidearms and were firing back. The bark of the firing handguns hurt Deena’s ears, with the weapons so close to her head.
Pel grabbed Deena around her uninjured arm and pulled her inside out of danger. Another shot from their assailant tore a chunk off the doorframe.
“Are you all right?” Pel asked. She examined the wound, pulling Deena’s shirt away, to get a better look. Pel’s hand immediately went over the wound to try to stop the blood.
It hurt like hell. It was a burning sensation that was unlike the last time, when she got shot on the train. She wondered if the bullet had broken a bone, or severed something important in the shoulder or collarbone.
“Jesus. Garrett. Look,” Pel said.
They all turned to see the blood seeping over Agent Pel’s hand had turned black.
“Don’t worry. That’s perfectly normal.” Deena was having success in getting her breath and staying calmer this time as the dark substance leaked out and went about its work. “Take your hand away. It’ll be OK.”
They watched as the wound did the same thing it had last time. The blood stopped flowing, replaced by the black ooze, then that also stopped and the wound became just another dot. The difference this time was that it still burned inside. She suspected that would pass, but it was hard to say. She’d never been this terribly injured when she was under the Shadow Energy’s control. She thought of it like that now. It wasn’t a power that she’d been wielding all that time; the power was wielding her. Now that she was free of it, how would it affect her and how long would it still work?
There were two more shots from their unseen foe, before it got quiet again.
“What other exits are there?” Garrett asked.
Deena considered a tactical perspective that she’d never applied to her home. “Back door, bedroom windows. And I just discovered a trap door out of the basement.”
“Our car is so exposed out there. How are we going to get to it?” Pel snuck a look before crouching and moving to the next room to look out the window.
“I have a car out back,” Deena said. “Should be easy to get to. I mean, if you want to stay here and track this guy down, I get it, but I’d rather put some distance between us and this place. What do you think Agent Garrett?”
Pel motioned toward the area where the gunfire originated. “He’s already out the back and circling in on the guy. Give him a second.”
Deena could feel the agent’s gaze. “I’ll be fine. I think.” She touched the area where the bullet had penetrated, which was now nothing but a streak of blood and grime. “I got shot on the train and it feels just dandy now.”
The blonde agent didn’t look terribly convinced. “If you say so.” Pel looked back out the door. “Here we go.”
Agent Garrett had made his way around and was moving from tree to tree for cover. Deena could see him slowly moving forward, pointing his weapon at the treehouse, pausing to watch for movement before moving on again. As best Deena could tell, nothing was happening. After a couple of minutes, the agent made it to the old hideout and looked up from below before climbing up the old wooden rungs. He shook his head for Pel’s benefit before pulling out his radio. “There’s some blood up here,” Garrett’s voice crackled from speaker. “Not a lot. I’m going down and have a look around. See if I can figure which direction he went.”
“Got it, I’ll stay with Riordan,” Pel replied. Her partner climbed down and moved off stealthily in the woods again.
“He’s long gone,” Deena said. “Hard to tell how far he’s gone or if he’ll be back, but he’s gone for now.”
“Friend of yours?”
“Not anymore, I guess.” She looked out of the window for Garrett, but couldn’t find him in the tangle of trees that surrounded the house. “If you didn’t know who we were dealing with before, you know now. They want me dead and they don’t care who gets in the way. They’ll kill you, your partner, my sister…”
“Look, not to be indelicate, how do you know they haven’t killed her already?”
“I get the feeling Marsh believes I’ll come in, change my mind and things’ll go right back to normal,” Deena said. “That I’ll take one look at his wrinkled old face and fall back under his spell.”
“That’s not going to happen?”
“Nope.” Deena tried to rally her voice to sound as sure as should could to the agent. The reality was she wasn’t positive of anything. She didn’t trust her instincts and still found herself drifting into teenage thinking and flawed logic. “Look, if you don’t think your partner will let us go after my sister, I can run out back and jump in my car and zip off to the big city by myself. It’s not really my car; I stole it from a bitchy exercise lady. It’s a little car, but it’s peppy, it moves like you wouldn’t believe. ”
52
It was quiet in the car for the longest time as Garrett drove down the interstate toward Los Angeles.
“Soooo…” Pel was in the backseat with Deena.
Garrett had already made up his mind that he wasn’t calling in anything to Rivers or Rice. They should’ve let the agents know they had Deena, they’d been attacked, hell, there were any number of things that they should have told their superiors, but they didn’t. Deena had saved them from that sniper’s bullet. Garrett really didn’t see any reason to draw attention to their situation. As far as he knew there weren’t any other killers, monsters or freaks following them and there was no reason to think otherwise, so he didn’t want to ask for backup.
No one responded to Pel, so she dropped the question, such as it was.
Garrett himself hated the silence, hated driving these stretches of highway. All the flat fields and cows. He let the silence go for ten more minutes, which allowed him to count six more tractors and two dozen sheep.
“So where are we going?” Deena asked.
It was quiet for another moment.
“I think we need to start back at Marsh’s office,” Garrett said.
Deena’s statement was simple. “Yeah. That sounds about right. We need to finish this one way or another I guess. But I can’t put you in danger again. I think I should go in alone.”
“The only reason we’re going is because I’m letting you. We should take you straight in and put you in a cell,” Garrett said. “Let’s not talk too much about it. We’ll go in with you, and if anyone gives us shit, we’ll make up some excuse.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you sure you’re going to be able to handle Marsh?” Pel asked. “This imprinting
thing might kick in and make you want to keep working for him.”
“Just worry about your own ass. He obviously has reacted poorly to finding out I’m no longer his favorite puppy. He’s going to want to eliminate everyone involved in order to cover his trail,” Deena said. She held up her wrists and jiggled the handcuffs. “You’re going to take these off before we get there, right? Can’t do much with these on.”
It was something he knew they’d have to do eventually, if they really wanted to help her here. “You know much about his organization?” Garrett watched the road, but he kept eyeing Deena in the rearview mirror.
“Enough.”
Garrett questioned his choice again. Someone that valuable shouldn’t be walking into a situation where they could be killed. If her information was substantial enough to shut down Marsh’s organization, she should be in a safe house, or a jail cell, or in a highly guarded convoy headed in the opposite direction from Marsh. Here he was, driving her right into the path of danger. Still, she’d never talk if he let something happen to her sister.
“We need to do this my way, though. I’ll direct how we enter and how we handle Marsh’s men. There may be a way yet to get out of this with minimal conflict,” Garrett said. “I want you and Harper to come out of this intact, so you can tell us all about the fun things Marsh is doing.”
“Garrett?” Pel said.
“If we can put that smarmy bastard away, it would truly make my day.”
“Garrett?”
“Maybe you should start filling us in just a bit. You don’t have to spill it all.”
“She’s asleep.”
“What?” Garrett looked back up into the rearview mirror and saw that, indeed, Deena was leaning back in her seat with her eyes closed. She was even snoring lightly. “Guess she’s had a rough day.”
“We’ve all had a couple of busy days.”
“What? You want to nap too?”
Pel leaned forward and talked over Garrett’s shoulder. “Later. Look. I’m worried about making promises to her. We don’t have the authority for any of that. That bus bombing her sister pulled is still fresh and the press is going nuts with crazy speculation.”
“We’ve been on the move constantly since that happened. How do you know what they’re saying?”
Pel waved her phone in front of him. “Seriously? You need to learn how to use this. They’re saying it was a terrorist attack, but they can’t agree if it was homegrown or foreign. They’re all over the map.”
“Figures. That’s the first thing everyone would think in a situation like this,” Garrett said.
“And it isn’t going to go away. When they find out we’ve grabbed the prime suspect, they’re going to want her and they’re going to want to parade her around in public and show everyone its safe again. And let’s face it:
we
know she did it.” Pel messed around with her phone and shoved it in Garrett’s face. He swerved as he tried to look from the phone to the road. “And look,” Pel said. “Our old boss is even all over the news making statements.”
A video played of Harris at the crime scene with a dozen microphones in front of him. He made a quick statement that was non-committal, but said they had leads. It was full of vagaries that said absolutely nothing about what was actually happening. Anyone with half a brain could tell that he knew nothing.
“That was
our
case,” Pel said. “If Rivers and Rice hadn’t pulled us out, we’d be the ones making the statements and we’d be the ones without a freaking clue what was going on.” Pel sunk back into her seat.
It was true. The bombing wasn’t going to go away. Unfortunately, being so far out of the loop made it tough for Garrett to know what exactly was going on with the investigation. What did they know? Was Harper Riordan even on anyone’s radar back at Garrett’s old office? Maybe the video Pel had given to Rivers and Rice was the only evidence anyone had on the girl.
“I think we take this to Rivers and get his take on things,” Garrett said.
Pel paused for a minute. “Is Rivers the one in charge? I thought it was Rice.”
“Rice is the nice guy.”
Pel shook her head. “See, I didn’t get that at all, he came off as kind of a jackass to me.”
“They’ll both take some getting used to.” Garrett started rehearsing a conversation in his head. It was a discussion he wanted to have with Rivers about how Deena might actually be able to help the FEI without being locked up.