The Sphinx Project (26 page)

"Your mom?" I didn't know what she'd have to do with it.

"I'm Marissa's son."

"Oh. So were you mixed up in a test tube, too?" I couldn't stop my voice from turning sour.

"No, I just got the training. I'm completely human. Do you think you can forgive me?"

"I don't know…" I really didn't. I hated that he could make me so confused, even after he'd treated me like trash.

"If you can, I'd like to take you out for dinner. Once this is all over, of course." He caught me by surprise, my mouth dropped open a little. I didn't know what to say. Ideas raced through my mind, none of which were appropriate.

I finally settled on something I could talk confidently about. "I have information you might be interested in." I dragged out the chair and sank onto it.

"Oh, yeah? How much is it going to cost me?" he asked, kicking back farther in his.

"The first one's free."

He simply watched me.

"The other experiments they were working on, did you ever hear about them? I mean, more than what your mom said last time?"

"A little." He seemed curious now.

"Well, now they're free and they're popping up decapitated in hospitals all around the east coast. If you don't already, I suggest you begin carrying a blade. The only way they seem to die is if you cut the spinal column."

He nodded, not shaken at all.

"How many were there to begin with?"

"Hundreds. I don't know how many are left, but they're incredibly infectious and spreading like wildfire." I paused for a moment, considering something. "Do you think you could rustle up some bad publicity for certain people with this?"

"Yeah, but I need proof."

"What if I said I had proof?"

He seemed curious now. "What proof?"

"Just a second." I ran back across the catwalk, the sound of my shoes echoing around the tin building. I pulled a photocopy of the young guy's information from my bag and returned to Matt.

I'd made duplicates of everything at the mall on Friday while Jake picked out new clothes. The pages that had been on the clipboard of his plastic cell. As I passed them to Matt, his eyes caught mine and I couldn't seem to pull away from his gaze. My fingers lingered on the papers. I realized I was staring and shook my head, trying to shake myself free of whatever trance his eyes were creating.

"They already have the bodies in the morgue. Perhaps they might be able to match the picture to a corpse or a missing persons report," I suggested, a blush staining my cheeks.

"Thanks for this, Michaela," he murmured.

"Call me Kayla," I said standing up. "Let me know what you plan to do with it."

"Sure." He watched me as I turned and walked from the room.

I got halfway across the catwalk before stopping. I sat down, dangling my legs over the edge.

The men were still hanging around. There wasn't much to do but wait. If they kept coming and going, it would draw unwanted attention. Some of the men, like the one from this morning, tapped away at laptops or talked on their phones, others cleaned and polished their weapons. Still more were gathered in a corner of the building that had been converted into a gym.

All of these men, and not a single one of them had any effect on me apart from Matt. What was it that attracted me to him? He was hot, yeah, but I'd seen plenty of good-looking guys recently. None of them made me all stupid and gooey inside like he did. I didn't even know who the real Matt was. Was it the Matt who danced with me that night, holding me carefully as though afraid I'd break? Or the one who stood by Marissa, so comfortable with ordering men around? Was he playing with me again?

"Oi, what are you doing?" Nike's heels echoed on the metal as she walked. The sound reminded me of the steps below the night club and made me shiver.

I looked up, snapping out of my contemplation. "Nothing."

She swung down to sit next to me, staring at the men below. Turning my head slightly, I could see Matt running his gaze over the recruits from the door to his office. Catching my eye, he gave me a nod of acknowledgment before a small smile tugged at his lips.

Nike saw my expression, and I could only imagine she saw the heat that creeped over my cheeks. She knew who I'd been looking at. Shaking her head, she stood up. She pulled me to my feet and propelled me into our room with a hand on my shoulder.

"Really not a good idea, Miss. Human boys aren't for you. Keep your eye on the prize."

She was right; I had to focus on Nicole and the others. Letting myself get distracted by a cute guy could only hurt things.

The rest of the night passed slowly. Mouse, Jake and I hung around in our room, while Nike came and went as she pleased. Iona came back at dawn and went straight to sleep. We thought it would probably be a good idea to do the same, since we had to be awake at five in the evening, and a good sleep was in order.

Mouse walked Jake to the door. I set about straightening my covers. He leaned down to kiss her good night and I averted my eyes. She flicked the light off and picked her way across the floor to her little bed.

Chapter Twenty-five

I slept well, waking early with no memory of any dreams. Sitting up, it was easy to see that Nike hadn't come back during the night. Her covers were still tangled in the way they'd been before I'd gone to sleep.

She made an appearance at five on the dot, as we made our way back from the showers. She was lugging a big shopping bag with her. There was a bounce in her step and a shine in her eyes. She was excited.

"Where have you been all day?"

"That would be none of your business, my lovely." She flopped down onto her bed and upended the bag. "Here." She tossed me a pair of pants the same as hers and a pair of black boots. Turning them over, it was a relief for me to see that they were sans heel. I really didn't think I could handle them.

"What's this for?" I asked.

"You needed something better than those." She nodded to the pile of clothes on the floor at my feet. "At least these will give some semblance of protection."

She had a point. The leather would do much better than the thin fabric of our other clothes. She pulled another set, identical to the ones I was holding, and tossed them to Mouse. "You probably won't need them, but I figured they'd come in handy some other time."

We could hear the men stirring below, so we promptly wiggled our way into the pants and tugged the boots on over the top. She'd bought us new shirts, too, black and fitted with sleeves that reached just below our elbows.

Apart from specific weapons, this was probably the only difference between Nike and us—she settled on a black tank top, exposing her arms. I tied my hair into a tight bun low on my head, to keep it out of the way and to remove it as a potential hand-hold for our opponents.

Iona woke up and set about getting ready too. She didn't talk to us, not even lifting her eyes to look at us as she prepared. In moments, she was ready and shuffling from the room with a large rectangle case.

We donned our tactical vests, but instead of blades we favored fire power. We were only after humans today. I strapped my SIGs to the outside of each thigh, and a third gun sat in an ankle holster. I left my shoulder holster behind because it would be more comfortable without it while carrying the assault rifle.

Each weapon held a full magazine and my vest held four additional pre-loaded magazines for the rifle. We were carrying a hell of a lot of fire power. Tucking a folding black tactical blade into the vest, I was ready to go.

We made our way downstairs, using the actual steps this time, and joined the group sitting around a large whiteboard by the doors. Most of the men were already present and those who weren't were attaching weapons to their bodies wherever they could. We stood at the back, side by side in silence, waiting for someone to start talking.

My mouth felt thick as I swallowed, trying not to psych myself out. I needed to stay calm tonight. Worrying about Nicole and Mouse wasn't going to help anything.

Matt made his way down to us after the final man joined the group. My breath caught sharply at his appearance, decked out in tactical gear similar to ours. He wore it well; if Nike was badass, there were no words to describe Matt.

He was accompanied by two others. On his right was the redhead Mouse had talked to at the night club, on his left another man I recognized from that group too. They were both older than him, early to mid-twenties, but they let him take the lead.

He spoke quietly to one of the men at the front before raising his eyes to catch me looking at him. I turned away before busying myself with the straps of my vest. I groaned on the inside as I thought of what a loser he must think I am. How did he seem to know whenever I was watching?

Taking a chance and raising my eyes again, I watched the crowd, taking everything in. But soon my thoughts turned to Mouse and Jake, standing at my side. Jealousy once again reared its ugly head. They'd clicked together so easily. They looked comfortable, but if I were to so much as glance at Matt, I became nervous and embarrassed. I wasn't myself around him.

Matt took control of the group, calling them to order. He flipped over the large whiteboard to show the map that had been spread out in his office earlier. The spot where the counter had sat now held a big red circle with a small cross in the center.

He laid out the plan, naming the teams and individual objectives. I knew everything because he'd told us when we'd first arrived. My team, including Matt and Nike, would be the second one in, responsible for retrieving the captives, as he called them.

The third team was a combination of technical and tactical, tasked with retrieving computer files and clearing everything out at the end.

The security team left first, dressed in white garb to blend in with the snow that had fallen around the mountains. An hour later, Mouse and her tech team were ferried off to do their bit. We had to wait for another hour after that before they sent us the okay. They'd hijacked the surveillance and now it was ours. The path was clear.

We all moved toward the vehicles, but someone caught my hand as I went to leave the warehouse.

"Kayla," Matt murmured, pulling me back.

"Yeah?"

"Be safe, okay?"

"I'm always careful."

"Good." He stared at me for several moments before he raised his hand, enclosed in a heavy protective glove. The rough fabric grazed across my cheek, sliding along my jaw to the tip of my chin. He tilted my face upwards until our eyes locked in place. He leaned, his lips brushed across mine, as softly as a butterfly and as swiftly. Before I knew it, he drew away, tucking a few stray hairs behind my ears.

Without another word, we left the building and climbed into the black Range Rovers waiting outside. Being confined in a car with four other people weighed down with weapons wasn't the most pleasant of experiences. I was seated next to Matt, who held my hand the entire journey.

He helped me out of the car, even though I didn't need any assistance. We found ourselves in the deserted upper area of an old works site. I could see the beginnings of a hiking path. A small sign post declared it to lead to Lake Tear of the Clouds.

Nike left me alone at the arrival point, retrieving our communications equipment from Matt, who was talking to a group of the men. She clipped the power pack to the back of my vest and fed the clear coil up to my hairline. It clipped easily into place, sitting comfortably around my ear, the extended microphone in line with my jaw.

The snow had been falling here for some time and everything was coated in a thick layer of powder. Footprints trampled the once pristine whiteness leading down the trail. A crackle of static sounded and Matt began leading the way forward. It wasn't going to be a short trek; it would take several hours to get there.

We followed the trail, crushing the snow into slush. We crossed what was called Calamity Brook. At this time of year it didn't gurgle and bubble as brooks are suppose to. Instead it sat solid, frozen within the banks.

The trail widened for a while as we followed an old logging road to a pond. My gaze caught on a stone monument, which said something about someone called David Henderson. I didn't have a clue who he was. We crossed a bridge and another frozen river before stopping for a rest.

Nike uncovered a drink bottle and a handful of muesli bars from somewhere, which she shared before we started on our way again. No one spoke as we trudged along the path. The trail became more treacherous now. Sharp turns and uneven footing combined with snow and slush. It didn't help that there was also the necessity to climb over and crawl under numerous fallen trees and rotting logs.

After some time, we finally came to see the lake, nestled within the protective clutches of Mount Marcy. It was hard to believe something so small and pretty could be the source of the mighty Hudson River.

Towering a thousand feet above the lake stood the majestic mountain. It looked bare, barring the natural features one would expect to find on the side of a mountain. If I hadn't known better, I'd have assumed there was nothing there beyond what I could see. I couldn't even hear anything.

Matt led the way around the frozen pool. Had the pool been liquid, I could imagine the sight would have been amazing: the reflection of the mountain in the waters of the lake, shimmering beneath the full moon. Snow clouds no longer lingered, appearing to have emptied themselves completely.

We wound our way to the opposite bank, toward the skeletons of frozen trees and snow-covered spruce. The facility finally came into view.

Here we paused again. This was it. In no time at all, we'd be breaking into a secure military fortress. It was at odds with the voice in my head screaming for me to turn and run in the other direction. I shivered; it had nothing to do with the cold.

Half of the first team left, circling to approach the facility from behind. We waited silently until they confirmed their position.

The remaining members of team one swarmed forward, weapons at the ready. They converged on the pretentious building. Falling into an ordered formation, they adjusted themselves to the width of the entrance.