Touch No Evil

by A. K. Alexander

Hope fidgets at the watch for a moment before tucking it back down the neck of her dress. Despite the solace of the garden, she can’t help but choke up at the thought of Noah being used. She knows how that feels, to be treated like some kind of service animal, kept in a bedroom-shaped cage when Simms didn’t need her. Like a tool going back into the toolbox. Ky, Ayden, Noah… all of them taken away from their families and exploited by Grant Simms to get what he wanted. Or what Echidna wanted. They’d all been lied to and manipulated. Poor Noah had been programmed with false memories.

  That makes her shiver. Hope would much rather be locked up in a bedroom than turned into a zombie with false memories shoved in her brain.

  Somehow, the scrolls she dug up from the ground are important, but she doesn’t exactly understand how—or why that ugly mark on the back of her neck matters. Sister Marie-Luce seems to believe the scrolls connected to her gift somehow.

  Hope wiggles her toes in the grass, lost in a mix of sorrow, worry, and guilt. Thinking about her stolen childhood, and that of everyone else got her sad, while she worries about her sister and the team. Her guilt comes from being safe here while everyone else risks their lives to stop some great bad thing she doesn’t really comprehend.

  “Is Echidna manipulating everyone?” asks Hope some minutes later, finally breaking the silence of the garden. She thinks she’s using the word “manipulating” correctly.

  Sister Marie-Luce runs a hand over Hope’s head and hair. “I don’t think so. Not everyone.”

  “Just Noah and Grant?”

  “I don’t know if she’s manipulating Grant. I think Grant is evil all on his own, but it is possible.”

  Hope huffs in frustration. “It’s so confusing.”

  “I don’t know that anyone understands it all. I think we all have to use whatever information we have, and our gifts if we have them, and do whatever is in our heart.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” Hope asks.

  “You’re already doing it.”

  “I’m hiding here with you.”

  “I like to think of it as you keeping me company and waiting until you’re needed. Like you did a little while ago when you guided John to help Noah and Ayden, then led him to Kylie.”

  “You know about that, too?” Hope asks, studying her feet.

  “I know almost everything you do, sweetheart.” Sister Marie-Luce pulls her in for a tight hug. “Don’t feel guilty about it, but do me one big favor, please.”

  “What?” Hope mutters, her voice muffled from being squished against the nun.

  Sister Marie-Luce squeezes her for a moment longer before releasing the hug and smiling broadly. “Tell me what you’re doing, because I just might be able to help.”

  Chapter Twenty

  It takes me a while of sweeping around the city with my audial listening to catch a scrap of Noah’s voice.

  From the sound of it, they’re laying low in the back of a small café, waiting for a sense that the men chasing them have given up. Fortunately, they’re reasonably certain that the men who’d shot at them didn’t get a good enough look at their faces to identify them.

  By the time I arrive at the café, they’re getting ready to leave. We have a quick catch-up session, where they tell me they’d been pinned down in one of the corridors for a while before someone showed up out of the blue and opened fire from a side hallway. In the resulting confusion, they managed to slip away.

  I have a pretty strong feeling I know who the helpful stranger is, but I can’t find it within myself to open up to them about John—not yet. When we get closer to the safe house, with somber city lights passing by the taxi’s tinted windows, I open up to them who, exactly, is waiting for us. Both snap their heads around. After the night they had—and undoubtedly the many close calls—they don’t have the energy to remain shocked for too long.

  “It was him, then, at the caves,” says Noah.

  “And under the Vatican,” adds Ayden, lowering his voice.

  “Yes,” I say. “Both times.”

  “Son of a bitch,” says Noah.

  “I need to hear it from him,” says Ayden, stiffening next to me. “I need to know what happened and why. You are too close to him to be…”

  “Trusted?” I ask.

  But Ayden doesn’t answer. I can see the confusion and hurt and intrigue in his eyes. He has a thing for me. With John gone, our thing almost turned into more than a thing. But with John back, he knows that things will forever be changed. He is friends with John, as is Noah... another man I’ve almost had a thing with. But my heart belongs to John, even when I thought him dead. I couldn’t open up to another man, at least not for a long time. But now…

  Yeah, things are different, and John’s presence changes everything.

  Were they happy to hear their friend returned? Undoubtedly. Were they happy to hear that the woman they both pursued could possibly be “off the market”? Well, possibly. I guess it depends how deep their feelings are for me.

  When the guys and I arrive near the safe house, we pay the cab driver, cut through some alleys, and find the house wedged between two taller apartments. To the casual viewer, it is just another home along a busy street. The air is thick enough to slice, and boiling over with a mixture of anger, tension, and confusion. Actually, it isn’t a whole lot different from what went on inside me earlier when John exploded back into my life.

  “John,” says Noah, nodding once in his direction.

  Ayden simply stares him down.

  John returns their gaze without looking away or squirming under it. I’m sure his demeanor is a major turning point in both their opinions of him. A cockroach will scurry away when the light is turned on it, but John doesn’t even flinch.

  “John,” I say, hardly believing I’m saying his name again… and gazing upon the face of the man I loved. “The floor is yours.”

  He nods and fills them in on Simms faking us out with the bogus video while essentially abducting John and trying to turn him into a biological weapon. He even mentions the Archangel Raphael. Neither of my partners bat an eye. When you time travel and work as a psychic spy for a living, there’s not much that will surprise us. Well, some of us. Anyway, they aren’t quite ready to believe it totally, but no one’s gone for a weapon or thrown a punch, so I’ll chalk one up in the “win” column. Still, neither Noah nor Ayden appear happy with me for leaving him alone with Julia, since we’d spent so long thinking of him as a traitor. Maybe I haven’t been able to get over him at all, and I’m too ready to believe him, but I don’t know… it feels right. I’ve been trained to lie, and to pick up on lies, and I don’t see anything about John that sets off those flags. Granted, Simms lied to my face for years and I never suspected him. Had I wanted a father figure that badly, or was he simply that good at BS? Probably a little of both.

  “Looks like you caught a little graze there on your arm,” John says in a low tone, gesturing at a hastily bandaged dressing on Noah’s forearm. “You want me to look at that?”

  “I’ll be all right.” Noah takes a step back.

  Nobody says anything for a long, uncomfortable pause, though I notice Ayden looking over at Julia. And she’s checking him out, too. He smiles and winks before he fixes his unwavering gaze on John again.

  Okay, then. I guess one of my “boys” has already moved on!

  “So, are we just going to stand here and stare at each other or are we going to try to figure out what the hell is going on?” Julia finally asks. “You guys are acting stupid. You’re a great team. You really kick some ass later, so why don’t you just drop the bullshit posturing and let’s get down to business already.”

  I’m not the only one to realize that having a futurist around is going to be a pain in the ass. Then again, knowing things might turn out okay gives me a tremendous sense of relief. I wonder just how far into the future Julia’s gifts go?

  Noah turns to look at her. “Fine. But why don’t you tell us a few things about yourself first?”

>   “There’s not much to say,” says Julia. “I have no memory of my childhood. In fact, my memory begins only ten years or so ago. Father was already making plans for the White House, and I was being homeschooled by Grant Simms.”

  “Jesus, that guy gets around,” mutters Noah.

  “Of course, these aren’t typical classes. More than anything, he taught me how to perfect my craft.”

  “Seeing the future,” I say.

  “Yup.”

  “Then why did you arrange for us to, for all intents and purposes, kidnap the president’s daughter?”

  Julia grins. “That I don’t know.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say.

  “I saw us all here. And I see us in Paris. I see that something important is happening, something bigger than all of us, me, you, Grant Simms and even my father and the Pope. Something is happening and I just know that I am supposed to be here with you.” She grins. “And here we are.”

  “But you don’t see anything beyond… this?” asks John.

  “Nothing. A blank. Maybe that’s what everybody sees, no?”

  “Do you mind if we take a look at your back?” I suddenly ask.

  “My back—oh, wait, I know. The mark of anarchy. Yes, I know all about that. And yes, I am going to drive you all mad. Anyway, no problem.”

  Julia turns and starts to lift up her shirt, but stops when John raises a hand and says, “No need. She’s not the one.”

  “And how do you know that?” Noah snaps.

  John grins. “Hope just told me.”

  I blink. “Hope just told you?”

  “She put a bug in my ear,” John replies. “A metaphysical bug, that is. She’s been watching us from afar.”

  “Not that far,” says her voice, clear as day to my side.

  I turn and gasp. Stepping away from a solid wall is my kid sister. No doorway and no possible way for her to join us, yet, here she is.

  “Are we all having a mass hallucination?” asks Ayden. “Or am I the only one seeing Hope standing there?”

  She’s wearing a cream-colored dress, but no shoes, and looks quite happy. Ecstatic, even. I can’t help myself and grab her in a fierce hug. Then hold her at arm’s length. “How did you get here?”

  “Teleport,” she says. “I can do that now.”

  “Sweet mama,” I say, and both she and Julia giggle. My sisters.

  “Wait, what?” asks Ayden.

  “It’s true,” says John. “This little bundle of psychic energy appeared next to me on a moving plane. About gave me a heart attack.”

  “Does Sister Marie-Luce know you’re gone?” I ask.

  Hope nods. “It was her idea that I come here.”

  “Why?” I ask, perplexed. I could think of no more dangerous place... well, then again, this was a safe house.

  “Someone here knows something. Sister Marie-Luce is sure of it. She thinks she can help.”

  “Help, how?” I ask.

  Hope shrugs. “I don’t know yet. She says I’ll know it when I see it.”

  I shake my head. Psychics and their wishy-washy answers.

  “For now, I have a surprise,” says Julia as she walks over to the door and opens it right as a delivery man tries to knock. She collects a white box tied with string and carries it in, giving me a sneaky smile. Oh, good grief. Having a futurist around is going to be absolutely crazy.

  Yes. She placed an order for a cake—four days ago, according to the bill.

  Hope squeals when Julia carries in a small pink cake with white icing reading, “Happy 12th and 21st!” After the obligatory off-key version of singing “Happy Birthday,” Julia cuts pieces and hands everyone a slice before scooting back to sit between me and Julia on the sofa. John and the boys stumble into a conversation with guarded nonchalance. I take a little while to catch up with Hope about how she’s doing at the monastery. She seems happy there, but can’t wait for this whole mess to be behind us so we can actually have a life together all of us… the three sisters.

  Eventually, John drags our attention to more sobering topics. “Here’s what I know. Simms is planning on turning the GEPSI children into weapons.” He nods toward Julia. “You are a test subject. In particular, your memories are manipulated.”

  “Great. What an asshole.” She sighs. “I saw you telling me this a couple days ago. Already killed a box of tissues crying my eyes out. Guess I always kinda suspected something. I mean, what I do think I remember is all too perfect, you know? No bad memories at all. Probably what I have is implanted bullshit. Pardon my French.”

  John continues, “Simms sent several different people out, each with a different gift, just like he did with Julia. That was, in and of itself, a bold move, but nothing like the sinister plan that he has brewing.” He focuses his gaze on me. “You know how I told you about the injections and the touch of death?”

  I nod, not liking where this is going.

  “Well, I was the guinea pig for that experiment. Once he knew it worked, he started to put together his plan. In fact, he bragged about it before I escaped. No doubt he’s assumed that I will be dead before anyone knew about his plot. His plan was, and still is, to create children with the touch of death—”

  “My dream!” Julia blurts. “I have a recurring dream about my father reaching down to shake hands with a young boy. In the dream, I know that if he touches my father that it will kill him, but I can’t stop it from happening. I scream and scream, but no one hears me.” By the time she finishes speaking, tears are streaming from her eyes. Hope hugs her.

  If she’s the Child of Anarchy, she’s a damned good actress.

  Noah speaks up. “So, he puts these assassins out into the world to do his bidding, which is, quite obviously, to remove anyone who stands in his way of world domination.”

  John nods. “That’s his plan.”

  “Do you know where he’s keeping the children, John?” Noah asks.

  “John doesn’t know,” says Hope, before he can answer. She steps toward Noah, looking straight into his eyes. “But you do.”

  “I do?” He glances toward Ayden and then to me, his expression one of complete confusion.

  “You sent those men to come get me at the compound and I overheard you telling the guards to change the code for the door.” Hope folds her arms, tapping one bare foot with a soft clap-clap-clap. “You have been there and you had to know the specific location in order to send those men.”

  “Sounds perfectly logical,” says Ayden.

  “But I was programmed to do that by Jacqueline or Echidna or whoever the hell she was.” Noah swallows. “I have only bits and pieces of those events, but not any coherent details.”

  “I can help you remember,” Hope says, as casual as if offering to do the dishes after dinner. It’s the uncomplicated earnestness of a child, a child with a pure soul.

  Noah shakes his head. “I don’t know if I can—”

  “Of course you can.” Hope moves toward him, pulling John along with her. “But let’s fix your arm first.”

  Ayden looks at me; I look at him and shrug.

  Hope drags John across the room and places his hand on Noah’s injured forearm. The girl smiles up at each in turn. From under John’s hand I can see… movement. The skin is undulating, rippling, healing. When he lifts his hand, he asks Noah to remove the bandage.

  There’s blood, but that’s it. No wound. No scar. Perfect healing.

  “I’m pretty sure we are a roomful of freaks,” says Ayden.

  “Here, here,” says Julia. “And John just might be the freakiest of us all.”

  Meanwhile, Noah thanks John with a clap to his back.

  “There,” says Hope, re-taking Noah’s hand. “Now, come with me.”

  Noah is about to ask where, when his eyes suddenly widen.

  And the two disappear into thin air.

  Just like that.

  Poof.

  ***

  “That’s going to take some getting used to,” I say.<
br />
  “You’re not kidding,” says John. “So what now?”

  Even though I’m still reeling from having him fly back into my life again, I can’t help but feel more confident, and safer. Even if this is a lie, I want to believe it so much. Simms is a corrupt piece of shit. He will lie about John. In fact, he probably enjoys watching me collapse inside, molding myself into the exact sort of emotionless agent he wanted. Unable to contain myself, I glide over and lean up against him. He smiles down at me.

  “We go to Paris,” Julia says after a short pause.

  “Er, why?” I ask. “Is that where the Child of Anarchy is?”

  The First Daughter shakes her head. “There’s a man in Paris we need to see. He helps us find our mother.”

  “What does finding our mother have to do with finding those children—or the Child of Anarchy?” I ask.

  “I don’t get exact answers, Ky. Can I call you Ky?”

  “Knock yourself out.”

  She grins. “To get anything close to exact answers, I will have to sit here in the present and meditate on the future… all while the present slips by. But we don’t have that kind of time. For now, I am getting a snapshot of what we do next. Keep in mind, I can’t promise you it’s the right course. It’s just a snapshot of what the group decides.”

  Ayden claps his hands. “I take it we all decide to go to Paris, then.”

  “We do,” says Julia.

  “The city of romance.” He raises his eyebrows.

  “Oh, brother,” I say.

  “Do we leave without Noah and Hope?” asks Ayden.

  Julia nods. “We do.”

  “I’ve still got Hope in my ear, so to speak.” John taps a finger to the side of his head. “She can follow us anywhere.”

  “Then I suggest we get the hell out of here,” I say. “And find some answers.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “I’m just saying that ‘Butch Sanders’ isn’t exactly what I expected the owner of a shop, of any sort, in Paris to be named,” I say.

  John and I ride in a taxi on our way to meet with Mister Sanders. My second sister, Julia—ugh, this is getting confusing and a little vexing—identified him as the guy we’re supposed to be talking to.