by Snow, Nicole
“Just the hair, Doc. I need her to be able to walk,” Nash says with an almost sulky sigh. “It’s so boring.”
For the first time in my life, I feel very capable of murdering someone.
Especially when I can hear Deanna sniffling in the background.
But I hear something else, too.
A dripping sound, slow, familiar.
It’s so rhythmic it’s almost like a metronome, the sound of water striking against...stone?
Wait.
I know that sound.
But I’m distracted as Ross drones on in his icy, hypnotic tone. “You’re under orders to complete Operation Black Forest. Authorization code Cellar Door.” He stops and then repeats it again, very slowly, precisely, “Cellar. Door.”
When Nash speaks again, it’s eerie. Empty. This numb, toneless hush, repeating it back. “Cellar…Door. Understood.”
I don’t understand. Cellar door?
Cellar door.
Oh.
Holy effing hell.
A memory hits me right between the eyes, so fast and furious I have to put my hand on Blake’s shoulder to keep from toppling over.
I know where Deanna is.
* * *
Many Years Ago
I always love going out in the woods with Mommy.
But it’s not as fun this time because Mommy can’t hold my hand. She’s got to hold on to my new baby sister.
Deanna’s okay, I guess. She’s kinda cute, but she cries a lot, and right now I want Mommy to pay attention to me and hold my hand instead of holding my dumb baby sister.
I run through the trees. The leaves are so green and bright. They look all sparkly, and I spread my arms and dash ahead, then pick up a bright-pink flower and run back.
“Look, Mommy!”
I hold the flower up, and she smiles, her green eyes crinkling.
“It’s beautiful, baby. Do you want me to braid it through your hair?”
I hesitate, then look at Deanna, sucking her thumb. Her hair is all curly wisps stuck to her face, and she’s watching me with wide eyes like she’s scared of me.
I think sometimes she’s scared I don’t love her, just ’cause I get mad that she takes Mommy away from me sometimes.
I do love her. I really do.
So I reach up and tuck the flower into her hair and smile. “I like it better in Deedee’s hair.”
Deanna stares at me with big eyes, then lets out a happy burble and turns her head, hiding her face in Mommy’s shoulder.
Mommy smiles at me, her eyes so warm, and strokes her hand over my hair.
“That was a nice thing to do for your sister, my little bell,” she says, then takes my hand, keeping a tight hold on Deanna with the other. “Come on. I want to show you something.”
I stare up at her. The sun makes pretty halos around her head.
Mommy always looks like an angel, even when she’s sad and her smile hides her crying.
“What are we gonna see?” I ask.
“Walk with me,” she says, “and you’ll find out.”
So we walk some more. I skip sometimes, kicking up leaves. Deanna falls asleep. I’m starting to get tired. My legs hurt a little and my tennis shoes are pinching my feet, but then we stumble out of the trees and into a clearing.
There’s a door.
Double doors that look like they’re buried in the ground.
They’re wood, very old, and they have a big wood bar across them.
Thick plants are growing all over them, vines and honeysuckles, like they haven’t been touched in a long time.
Mommy leads me to the door, then leans down and puts Deanna in my arms. She’s heavy, but I’ve got her, and I hold on tight while Mommy smiles at me and says, “Do you remember how to get here, Rissa?”
I bite my lip and nod, looking back toward the trail.
Two big trees loom to the sides of it, and one of them is weird. It looks like it’s split into five different trees at the bottom. Almost like a big tree hand. I know how to find that tree again.
“Yes, Mommy,” I say.
“Good girl.”
She smiles and picks up that big board and drags it up, before pulling the doors open.
The hinges make a loud metal squeaking sound. When they open up, it’s like a big black mouth, and there are stone stairs leading down inside. There’s dust, so much dust, and it smells all wet and muddy and weird and old.
It’s spooky.
I stare down inside. The walls are stone, too, and there’s green stuff growing on them.
There’s water trickling down them like a stream, and it makes a steady dripping sound.
I’m holding my breath, holding Deanna tighter.
Mommy looks at me and says, “Do you know what this is?”
I struggle for the words. I’ve seen something like it before, but I can’t remember.
Then it clicks, and I nod quickly.
“Storm cellar! Just like the old one at school.”
“Exactly.” I love the way Mommy smiles when I get the answer right. “Only this is a special one. It goes all the way to our house.”
My eyes widen. “But we’re so far away from home!”
“We’re not as far away as it seems. We came in a big circle.” Mommy crouches down to look at me at eye level. “You know where you like to play in the basement?”
Uh-oh.
I’m not supposed to go down there.
Mommy’s not supposed to know about that.
But I don’t want to lie, so I admit it. “Um, yeah...”
But Mommy’s not mad.
She just smiles more, tucking my hair back. “Well, this tunnel leads to a very special door there. If you’re ever out playing in the woods and a bad storm like a tornado comes, you come here. You take your sister here, and you go under the house. Just like the storm drills at school.” She hesitates, her smile fading. “And if you ever need to get out of the house without being caught, for any reason...” She shakes her head. “Find that special door, baby. Find it and run.”
She seems so sad.
I don’t like it when Mommy’s sad, but sometimes...
Sometimes I hear Papa screaming, and that’s when Mommy comes to our room looking sad, and she pulls us close and holds us until we all fall asleep together.
Maybe that’ll help now, so I move in close to her and snuggle me and Deanna into her. Her arms clasp around me, and I rest my head on her shoulder. “I will, Mommy.”
I don’t get what’s going on.
But she holds us both so tight and kisses my hair, and even if she’s sad she sounds like she’s happy with me anyway when she says, “That’s my little bell. That’s my good girl.”
No, I don’t understand.
I won’t for many more years.
By then, it’s too late, and the memory of that day in the woods and the special door are almost long gone.
* * *
Present
I never knew remembering could hurt.
Guess I’d just buried so many memories of our mother. Like after she died, after the cancer took her away from us, all the good in our life was gone, too. My father’s humanity died with her, leaving him falling farther and farther down into his own hell of bourbon and bad business.
I’d forgotten that day.
Her hand in mine, Deanna on her hip, and that weird door way out in the woods.
I’d been around five.
And I don’t know if I can trust memories from when I was five years old.
I’m not Zach with his freaky photographic memory.
Still, I can’t ignore it, either.
“I have to go,” I gasp, looking desperately at Warren. “Keep Zach with you—please,” I say, gently nudging my son toward him.
Warren looks at me, confused, but holds out his hand for Zach, who goes to him like the good kid he is. “Mind telling me what’s going on?”
“I think I know where Deanna is. I have a hunch,” I say, already
backing toward the exit. “Cellar door.”
He frowns, stepping forward. “Hold up. Let me go with you—”
“No.” I shake my head fiercely.
I don’t know why, but I can’t stand the idea of someone else being there if I’m wrong.
“If I’m right, I’ll call for backup. It’ll draw less attention if I go alone. Besides, you’re all needed here if this whole thing tonight is going to work, right? And I need someone to stay with Zach. He can’t come with me.” I look between them all.
Fuchsia watches me with a hard dose of skepticism, Blake just looks confused. Warren’s still scowling, scratching at his beard, clearly worried. “I’ll be right back, I promise. I just want to check something out.”
Warren shakes his head. “I don’t like this. What if Nash comes after you?”
I smile faintly. “Sounds like Nash has his hands full with bigger things. Just try to figure out what Operation Black Forest is. Call Leo once you know. Let me handle the rest.”
I’m backing out before they can say anything else. Before they can stop me.
I’m still reeling.
Now I know exactly how Leo would disappear and reappear when we were kids.
I know where to find Deanna.
I know how to save the town. To find out what Nash intends to do and stop him.
Heart in my throat, lungs nearly bursting, I flee from the radio station, running like I’ve never run before, straight into the woods a mile or so away.
Sis, hang on. I’m coming.
22
Sudden Crash (Nine)
Who the hell knows if I’m ready for this.
It’s not like I’ve got any choice.
I haven’t seen Maximilian Asshole Ross in years. Not since the mansion.
Once the Nighthawks were ready for deployment, we were assigned to different units, rented to different government contracts, different locations overseas. Sometimes Kabul, Djibouti, Mosul, Tripoli...effectively rented to Uncle Sam for black ops, highly dangerous missions they didn’t want to risk with regulars.
Dr. Ross never saw us after our teens until Galentron brought us home to protect their own turf. He was there in the mansion, quietly observing the men we’d become.
Even before, his voice was always there over radio, our hellish, abusive father guiding us. Whenever one of us went off programming, Ross was brought in to bring us back on track.
I’ll never forget that bastard.
I remember the table. The syringe. The pain.
Him leaning over me, looking down with his frigid, empty gaze. A mechanic gives a faulty engine more affection than this monster gave us.
My lip curls in a fit, remembering the sick, fucked up feeling of his wrinkled hand stroking my brow, winding my hair back.
Pretending to care about me.
Less than he’d care about a pet.
All he ever cared about was if I’d obey, just like the others.
“Leo,” Gray says, trying to ground me back to earth. “Are you with me?”
“I’m here,” I say, tearing my gaze off the passing miles through the window. “Don’t worry. My head’s in the game.”
Gray pulls his truck to an idling halt at the beginning of a small lane that branches off the highway and into the woods just outside Missoula.
Up that path is the house Dr. Ross retired to after he took his pension. That’s what the personnel files said, the ones I’m not supposed to have.
He doesn’t know we’re coming.
He sure as hell doesn’t know he’s about to make up for every shit he ever took, whether he wants to or not.
We’ve been driving for hours, past sunset, and well into the night.
It’s dark except for Gray’s headlights, which he dims now, easing the truck onto the shoulder. He kills the engine.
But instead of getting out, he just turns to look at me, draping his arm along the back of the seat, green eyes solemn behind the glint of his glasses.
“Look, man, I’m serious,” he says. “I need to know you can do this. Tell me I’m not leading you into something that could destroy you.”
I smile grimly. “Little late for that, huh? I’ve already destroyed myself seven ways from Sunday.”
“Ross can still hurt you.” He’s sharp-edged, fierce, but I know Gray. And I know his icy brand of concern is how he shows he cares. “I don’t know everything about the Nighthawks program. Active biowarfare agents were my area of expertise, not mind control and child abuse.” He snorts. “But if we’re here for Ross because he knows Nash’s control words, then it’s safe to say he knows yours, too.”
After the brush with Nash and taking a knife to the thigh, he has no clue how right he is.
Still, I can’t seem to shake this cynical smile. “What makes you think I have control words?”
Gray sighs. “Leo.”
I close my eyes.
Bad idea. Bad joke.
Can’t blame a man for trying. Being here with Gray, in the dark, tension vibrating between us, so many of the old horrors coming home to roost...it’s too damn much.
It reminds me of that night I snapped, killed Edgar Bell, and burned down the entire facility and the Paradise Hotel to destroy SP-73 before it could get loose.
Reminds me of the screams, too. Employees who may not have been innocent, not really, but then none of us are.
Not me. Not Gray. We were complicit.
The fact that we tried to change something after the fact?
It’s atonement, not salvation.
I don’t know if I can ever atone for the lives lost because I tried to do the right thing, and it all went so horribly wrong. But I can at least try to stop anyone else from dying. I can try to save my family.
“I have to do this,” I say, looking at Gray. “There’s no other option. If I start going weird...” I take a deep breath. “Just knock me out, Gray. Knock me on my ass before I get dangerous.”
“Me?” Gray smirks dryly. “Knock you out?”
“You’re fast and strong and tricky. You’ll find a way.” I take a deep breath and push the truck door open, stepping outside. “Let’s go trap a snake.”
Gray follows me as we slip into the woods, taking cover under darkness and following parallel to the road, moving up to the house unseen.
The lights inside start flickering through the trees, and his voice drifts through the darkness quietly. “Leo?”
“Yeah?”
“How do you intend to make him cooperate?”
I don’t like the smile that spreads over my lips. It makes me feel like the monster Ross tried to make me, capable of anything.
“I’m not giving him a choice,” I growl. “Not if he wants to live.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
Then I’ll make sure he suffers so much he wishes he could die.
Anything to put an end to this. But I don’t say that.
I only shake my head, forging on through the trees.
We creep closer till we can see the tall brick house, constructed in a rustic mountain style but accented with huge windows and many modern touches.
It’s comfortable. Cozy. Hidden.
Probably complacent, unless there’s a security system with features I can’t make out in the dark.
No guards, though.
Not even motion sensors. I scan the grounds, searching for even the smallest oddly-shaped rock that might be a disguised sensor, a defense system.
Nothing.
I guess Dr. Ross really trusts they’ve eliminated anyone who might want him dead.
The broad front window gives me a clear look inside the wood-paneled interior, all lit up in soft gold light. That light shines off the rims of Ross’ glasses. He’s moving through his kitchen, chopping vegetables, pouring red wine into a glass.
It’s so idyllic. So peaceful. Just an old man going about his evening.
And all I can think about is how easy it’d be to take a sniper shot from here. A monster l
ike Ross doesn’t deserve this kind of peace.
It’s disgusting how the worst people, the cruelest people, hide behind the mundane.
How they sleep so easily at night.
All because they don’t have enough of a human soul left to care who they hurt.
A snarl curdles my lips, and I rise from my crouch—only for Gray’s hand to smack my chest.
He gives me a warning look. “Go easy,” he says.
He’s right. I nod and rein myself in.
I can’t fly out of control. Not here.
Taking a deep breath, I stealth-creep, slipping across the lawn with Gray in my wake. We keep low, out of the line of sight, only standing once we’ve reached the front door.
Just to keep things simple, I knock.
There’s the sound of the wine bottle clinking down inside, a momentary pause.
Bastard barely even hesitates. He feels that safe, and it makes my blood boil.
My eyes flick to the squeak of the lock turning, the click, the door unlatching.
Then he pulls it open, a quizzical look on his face.
It’s the face of my nightmares, just a decade older, more seamed, more wrinkled, the flesh a little less firm, his eyes not quite so wickedly bright.
He was an older man when he destroyed me.
He’s an old man now.
That doesn’t hold me back even in the slightest when he looks between me and Gray, his eyes widening in recognition, his lips parting on—
We’ll never find out.
Because I draw back, clench my fist, and mutter, “Long time no see, Doctor.”
My fist crashes into his face.
Ross goes staggering back with a garbled sound as his nose explodes with red, his glasses cracking.
I’m on him in a flash, crossing the threshold, fists raised. One more hit and I’ll knock him out cold. I need him incapacitated. Helpless.
“The blue wharf,” he gasps out, even as he staggers out of my reach. “The. Blue. Wharf.”
Shit.
Just like that, my entire body locks up.
It’s like a charge rushes through me, changing my whole polarity. Everything feels turned inside out.