The Forbidden Trilogy (70 page)

Another sweep of the tail and another roll.

They couldn't keep this up. "Maybe we could run it off
a cliff."

"We're in a valley," Hunter reminded her. "No
cliffs."

"Right. Lose it in the forest?"

The deadly tail nearly clipped Lucy in the shoulder. She
fell to the ground, panting.

Hunter nodded. "Let's try."

Once the tail swept around again, they tried to skirt around
the beast and run toward the forest, but the lizard stood on its back legs and
slashed at them with sharp claws. Lucy dove to one side and Hunter to the
other.

Hunter stood just as the lizard's tail lashed toward him.

"Hunter, no! Watch out."

Lucy's warning came too late. The tail sent Hunter flying
into a tree. A sob broke through Lucy's lips as she ran toward him. Just as she
was about to reach him, the lizard struck.

Pain. Pain like nothing she'd ever felt before flared across
her back. She'd been shot, beaten, left for dead, but nothing hurt like this.
It burned as if someone were pouring acid down her spine.

The ground crashed into her face. Her shirt dangled off her
body in bloody shreds. A sticky wetness spread across her back and over her
arms. Everything blurred and moved in and out of focus.

"Lucy! Oh my God, no!" Hunter's voice seemed far
away, but he stood close to her, lean and tall and strong.

She wanted to reach for him, to hold him, but she couldn't
move. Why didn't he come to her?

His eyes changed—his pupils turned into slits and the green
in his eyes glowed with fire. Muscles coiled, and he ran and jumped toward the
lizard.

Lucy tried to stop him, to warn him, only she couldn't talk
through the pain.

Hunter dodged the lizard's tail and claws with such speed
that Lucy thought she was blinking in and out of consciousness. The reptile
took another swipe at him, claws dripping with Lucy's blood, and Hunter hit the
ground and slid beneath its legs. Lucy had the random thought that he'd be
really good at baseball, especially stealing bases.

He jumped up behind the lizard with such grace that he
almost flew, and drew his sword from his pack. It extended into full size and
cut off the lizard's tail in one clean cut.

The beast's roar filled the valley, and it spun with a
viciousness that scared the hell out of Lucy, but Hunter dodged and stayed low.
When the lizard turned back toward him, he jumped on it the way a cat might
jump onto a fence—so fluid and graceful.

He scurried toward the reptile's head and raised his sword.
Just as he was about to impale the lizard's brain, it shook its head and sent
Hunter flying forward, over Lucy, where he landed with a thump.

No no no no no! No one could have survived that. No one.

Lucy cried, and the lizard locked its gaze with hers and
stalked forward, ready to finish what it had started.

She tried to crawl away, but couldn't move. Her hands felt
swollen and slow as she reached for her gun. Blood pooled around her, leaving
her dizzy and weak.

The lizard charged with another roar, and Lucy knew the end
had come. She didn't want her last thought to be of a giant, mutant, tailless
creature bent on killing her, so with the last of her strength, she forced
herself to turn toward Hunter—the man she might have fallen in love with, given
just a little more time.

Instead of his crushed body, she saw him running toward her,
sword in hand. As he approached, he leaped into the air in a way that no human
would have been capable of, and landed in front of her right as the lizard's
mouth opened to eat her.

The sword glinted in the sun as he thrust it into the
beast's pulsing red heart.

The earth shook as the lizard crashed to the ground with a
moan. Then it was still.

Hunter pulled his blade free, wiped the blood onto the
grass, and minimized and re-sheathed it. He did it all so fast, Lucy could
barely track his movements before her eyes closed.

She heard him approach. "Lucy. Oh Lucy."

Her shirt hung in tatters, and somewhere in her mind that
should have bothered her, but she didn't care. And Hunter, for once, didn't
notice.

He pulled off his own shirt and draped it over her chest,
then lifted her in his arms and carried her back toward camp.

With each step and bump, the pain tore into her, but she
refused to make a noise. "Hunter...." She tried to speak, but
couldn't finish the sentence. Everything seemed so far away, so....

Hunter looked at her, his eyes normal now. "You'll be
okay. I'll make sure of it."

Her eyes closed, and she smiled. She believed him, and
despite the burning, never-ending pain, warmth flowed into her—not just from
the sphere this time, but from something else. Some
one
else.

She felt Hunter's presence inside her as she surrendered to
the darkness.

The purple liquid coated Drake's throat as it made its way
down and through his body, recharging the small spark of power still buried
deep inside of him. His strength surged, muscles firing up, and the cobwebs in
his mind cleared away to give him greater focus. No high accompanied this dose,
unlike the blue drug, but he relished the natural high that came with his
powers.

The truck he hid in shook, and he braced himself against the
metal walls. They should be near the quarantine area now. He'd easily found a
truck heading in with supplies. A small sip of the drug had been enough to give
him the power to compel the driver to let him in the back and forget about him.

They'd been on the road for about thirty minutes. Canned
goods rattled around him, and Drake took a deep breath and willed his body to
relax. He wanted to jump out of the truck and hitch a ride to Washington to be
with Sam, but he had to help Toby first. The CDC had announced that, tonight,
they'd move everyone from the quarantine zone to a more secure location—a more
secret
location.

Drake had to get Toby out now. He owed the boy that much.

The truck ground to a halt, and Drake tensed again,
listening to the voices outside. He'd known they'd probably inspect the trucks
as they came in, but the interruption still unnerved him. He moved to the door
and waited, prepared to do what it took to avoid detection. If he had to hurt
them... well, he hoped that wouldn't happen.

The door slid open, and light from the sunset filled the
space, nearly blinding Drake. Two armed military guards held automatic rifles
inches from his chest. Their eyes widened in surprise, but Drake slipped into
their minds and took control.

'Close the door and tell your superiors that no one is in
here.'

They stepped back, ready to do as instructed, and Drake
realized his mistake. They'd have to check the truck before they could clear
it.

'Enter the truck.'

Someone at the gate called out. "Is everything
okay?"

'Tell him everything is fine.'

A guard obeyed. "Yeah, just checking the truck.
Everything's fine."

The guards walked in and stood on either side of Drake,
completely ignoring him. They scanned the canned food and walked out. "It
looks good," one of them said. "Send it through."

They closed the door, covering Drake in darkness once again.

He sat back down and let out a sigh of relief. The truck
revved back up and drove into the quarantine zone. Just a short drive and
they'd arrive at the building where most of the kids with powers were being
held.

The truck sped up, and Drake's senses pinged. Something
about his control over the driver felt off. Tires screeched outside. The truck
shuddered and lost control, tilting to one side and crashing Drake into a wall
of cans. He held on as the truck skidded down the street.

Shit!
He shouldn't have let himself get distracted.
People under compulsion weren't as aware, and any attention at that moment
could spell disaster. He kicked the door open and slid out the back.

The post-apocalyptic look of the city surprised him. Crowds
of dirty, homeless people huddled in groups. Some ran toward the crash,
attracted to any form of human pain and suffering. Others hesitated, perhaps
scared of the army, or perhaps beyond caring about anything anymore.

Litter lined the streets, as though people had given up
taking care of their city. Dark clouds settled in the sky like unwanted
houseguests, unusual for this part of California, but certainly fitting the
mood of the place.

The truck he'd hitched a ride in had crashed into another
truck while going through an intersection. The other truck had a smashed
fender, but hadn't toppled as they had. At least few cars travelled the street,
and no one appeared seriously injured.

Drake opened his mind and strengthened his connection to the
driver.
'You will forget you ever saw me.'
With that done, he slipped
into the crowd. No one seemed to notice or care about his presence. The drivers
interested them more.

Protesters rallied to "Free the Children" at a
large hospital a few blocks down. Though, to call them protestors created a
much cleaner, more organized mental image than what Drake witnessed. A ragtag
group of humanity, staggering under the weight of their own fear, had made one
last ditch effort to retrieve their loved ones in the hospital, carrying signs
that could have said "Will Work for Food" instead of "Free the
Children."

That must be where they're keeping Toby.

Drake jogged over and pushed through the desperate mass of
people camped near the equally desperate mass of protestors. He couldn't figure
out who all these people were or why they had come. Had more drugs been
released into the area somehow? Drake had assumed Blue Power was only a street
drug, which would have limited the demographic exposed, but the scene in front
of him led him to believe that more than just drug users had been infected.

Someone screamed in the distance—guys in white hazmat suits
pulled an old man into a truck.

Drake fought an impulse to save the guy. He didn't have much
time before his own powers waned, and Steele had only given him a handful of
vials and a large stack of cash. The purple drug lasted longer than the blue,
but they still faded after time. He had to conserve. He needed the vials to
help get Ana back, and each one he spent here put his own child at risk.

Besides, maybe the old guy's in danger, or a danger to
others. Maybe he needs to be handled that way.
He didn't know and didn't
have time to find out.

Seven armed guards stood sentry at the entrance of the
hospital—whether to keep people out, or keep patients in, Drake couldn't tell.
Probably both. Controlling all of them at the same time would be
difficult—maybe too difficult.

Shit. Maybe if—

"You there, don't move." One guard raised his gun
and aimed at Drake.

Drake put his hands in the air as the crowd backed away from
him.

The young guard stared vacantly at him through black
wire-rimmed glasses. "Come with me," he said, and led him down an
alley and out of sight.

Good.
The compulsion Drake planted had worked.
'Now
take off your uniform.'

The guard stripped down to his boxers and handed over his
clothes.

Drake changed into the guard's uniform, grabbed his ID—he
and the guard looked close enough alike that Drake thought he could pass at a
glance—took his weapon, and released him.

'Somebody robbed you. You didn't see who did it. You will
forget me completely.'

A twinge of guilt interrupted Drake's flow. The solider
would probably catch hell for this, but what else could he do? Sick of the
"ends justify the means" argument he'd fed himself so much lately, he
purged it from his mind and walked toward the building, flashing his ID on the
way. It only took a small nudge from his power for them to glance past his face
and let him through. The guise saved him from burning his drug on full mind
control.

Stepping into the hospital was like entering a different
world. Clean, polished floors and brightly lit corridors greeted him. In
contrast to the dirt and chaos outside, uniformed military nurses and doctors
went about their business with the calm ease of routine. Just another day at
work.

Drake approached the front desk. "I've been sent to
check on a boy. His name is Toby, and he was brought in last night."

A petite redhead shuffled her papers and clicked her mouse
to open something on the computer. Her green eyes flicked up to Drake and back
to the screen. "He's on the third floor, room 312, but he's quarantined.
They're moving him in fifteen minutes."

Drake had to hurry. "I've been sent to guard his door.
Don't let anyone without authorization come up before he's moved."

"I haven't heard anything about that. I don't know if I
can...."

Damn it.
He did not want to control this girl. She
couldn't have been older than eighteen, and probably didn't even know what was
going on. But he couldn't afford to mess this mission up. He prepared to nudge
her mind.

She spoke first. "Let me see your ID."

Drake held it up, covering most of the photo with his
fingers, his powers ready in case she demanded to see more.

"Okay. Thank you." Her shoulders relaxed. "Go
ahead."

"Thank you." Drake sighed in relief.

He wished he could set the girl at ease, and even thought of
using his powers to soothe her or to get her to look for another job, but
something stopped him. She reminded him of Sam, a young girl pulled into
something she didn't understand or want to be a part of, her innocence stolen
from her. He didn't want to steal her choices. Maybe after this, her life could
go back to normal. He hoped so.

Maybe there's still hope for me and Sam. Maybe.