Encrypted

by Weaver, Nicole

  There was no one in sight.

  Just a janitor huh? Probably for the best that I didn't get his number, and I am extremely late. Besides, if I go back, I have to talk to Trevor again. Grr.

  Chapter 17

  Saturday May 22nd, 2010

  The grey and blue cab pulled to a stop outside the temple; the same cluster of buildings she'd sent the kids to hide behind during the bus attack when her biggest worries were graduating and not being lit on fire.

  The cabby had been friendly and personable, though he had asked why a young girl was out so late by herself. Surprisingly, he had been kind enough not to press when she changed the subject.

  I'm sorry. She reached for the door.

  "Okay, Ma'am, that will be $21.50."

  It's just a phase, they said. Teenage rebellion that would soon pass, they said. Maybe I'm just bad, my brother and I, like two peas in a pod.

  "I'm sorry." She yanked the door open and fled.

  "I knew it. Damn it, Blondie, get back here! You owe me $21.50." He threw his cab into gear and spun it around to chase her, high beams on.

  Samantha darted to the nearest building, her fingers already splitting into claws. About as sharp as a spork, but they should do the trick. I hope.

  Leaping up, her talons sunk into the stucco, deep enough she wasted a few precious seconds leveraging them free to climb.

  The cabby slammed his car into park and charged over on foot to jump and snatch at her bedazzled shoes. He fell short and ended up with a face full of stucco for his trouble. "Blondie, you better get down here and pay me."

  Her thoughts raced, just like her body, faster, different. Maybe my code name could be Sonic Shift.

  Dropping into the bushes on the far side of the building kept her hidden while the cabby circled the Temple. He was looking for a girl with short, platinum blonde hair.

  Blonde that now darkened to her favorite crimson and grew past her shoulders, stopping near the middle of her back. I'm not hungry doing little stuff, but I bet I'll be starving when I figure out how to do major stuff.

  She waited until the headlights were shining away from her, then sped across the street over the loose scree of the road. It was torn down to the dirt underneath in some places, making it nearly impossible for the cab to follow her through it, even if the guy saw her escaping.

  He didn't see her.

  Effortlessly running through the dark neighborhood, she loosened her shoulders and ran faster. Somewhere along the line, her migraine had faded to almost nothing. This is what I want; to be free, away from Jon, Kevin, and even Mildred. To choose my own family and friends, not live to serve their expectations.

  Jon's house sat dark and silent, except for the lone porch light shining dangerously among the shadows.

  I don't know if that is a good sign or a bad one. I'm only three hours late, but I've never been back after dark before—not in the entire time I've lived here.

  She considered sneaking in through the basement window, but getting caught there would ruin her escape route for future shenanigans. Better to save it for a real emergency.

  Sonic Shift would kick down the front door and charge into battle, all guns blazing, but Phoenix Star would be strategic about it. Hmm. I could just run.

  The tiny pool of light held her at bay for a time, unable to leave, but afraid to go any closer...and then the front door swung open.

  "Honey, this isn't going to get easier if you stay outside all night. You know it will be worse for you the longer you keep him waiting." The soft voice trembled.

  Oh shit. I am in so much trouble. "I'm sorry Mildred, it wasn't on purpose. Can you maybe talk to him? See if he can forgive me?"

  Mildred hung her head. "I'm supposed to go to bed. I can't help you with this one." She disappeared inside, leaving the door open.

  Stalling for time, Samantha turned her back on the house to hide her smartphone from anyone peering out the windows. Another voicemail from Trevor was waiting, along with a pair of new text messages, one from Susan and one from Lucky. She dialed the voicemail.

  Trevor's concerned voice filled her ear. "Sam, what's going on? You haven't returned any of my calls and now I find you hanging out with a guy like that? He's never serious about anything, especially relationships. I love you. Be careful."

  Trev can't love me, he doesn't even know what I am... but it's cute he's jealous of the janitor that I've known for a few hours.

  An angry male voice floated through the starlit darkness to break her smile. "Damn it Sam, get your ass in here, before I have to come out and get you."

  Thanks for the assist, Mildred. I definitely wanted him to know I was out here.

  Moving quickly, Samantha slid her phone into her back pocket and hurried inside, shutting the door quietly behind her. No sense in letting him claim she'd slammed it.

  A rough hand spun her around and pushed her against the wall above the shoe rack.

  Jon pinned her there, her chest painfully smashed around his grip on her shirt and bra.

  Angry brown eyes hovered inches from her own. "What the actual fuck are you doing? I told you not to try me. Your curfew isn't optional," he sneered. "You seem to have broken all of Kevin's Rules in one day. Are you doing drugs? He said drugs might interfere with your neurotransmitters."

  "Please Jon." Her voice broke. She forgot her powers, her planned excuses, even her name.

  He twisted his fist and shook her until her head whacked into the soft plaster of the wall.

  Thump.

  Seemingly realizing what he was doing, he dropped her into a heap on the tiled floor.

  Sharp thoughts bounced off of each other, scattering like broken glass. It wasn't that he'd hurt her, but that he'd never been quite this vicious before.

  "What's this?" He leaned down, reaching for something on the floor.

  Horror gave her the strength to lift her head. Oh no! Please no. Everything narrowed down to the one thing in her life that was her own. Her bejeweled smartphone sat on the ground between them.

  She lunged for the phone. Her real phone, with all of her most private messages still on it.

  Jon was closer and already moving. He got to it first.

  "This would be how you've been talking to people; despite being ordered not to." He lifted the phone out of reach, casually flipping her onto her stomach with one hand. His leather shoe pressed into her spine, holding her down against the tile. "Where did you get this? Did you steal it?"

  She didn't recognize her own voice; tight, fearful. "I paid for it with my lunch money and allowance. I didn't steal it, Jon."

  "Maybe so, maybe not. You are going to give me your password and sit there on the floor until I know everything you have been up to."

  No, I won't.

  He removed his foot. "Sit up."

  This time she was ready with sped up muscles and laser focus. In a blink, Samantha bounced off the tile and spun into a perfectly aimed roundhouse kick.

  Her phone shattered against the wall and she landed perfectly, feet apart and balanced to run...but with nowhere to go. A hollow victory, but still a victory.

  Jon's steely fingers wrapped around her arm, just above the elbow.

  Samantha pulled, but he simply tightened his grip. There was nowhere to go.

  "That was unwise Sam." His voice, flat and emotionless, matched the darkness shrouding his eyes.

  She shivered. Is this it? Is he finally going to kill me? Just one more statistic, a foster kid, a runaway, with no family to wonder where she went? Tears slid softly down her cheeks.

  Jon watched through narrowed eyes. Then, without warning, he yanked her in close. Sharp whiskers stabbed against her cheek as he put his mouth to her ear and whispered. "I've already spoken with Kevin; he's agreed to give up some of his weekend to give you a bonus session in the morning."

  Betrayed, and scared, she would conserve her strength. With Susan gone, she had no one to turn to.

  Released without warning, she bounced off the
wall and barely caught her balance. She didn't protest.

  "Go to your room and don't make me tell you again."

  Floorboards creaked, moving away, then a switch clicked on.

  Samantha dared to look up.

  The light illuminated Jon. He was inspecting the remains of her phone in the palm of his hand. He glanced over and took a menacing step towards her. "Get moving, or I will get you moving."

  Resisting the urge to shake her head, Samantha pushed away from the wall to hesitantly pass him in the narrow hallway. I am so tired of being alone. No one has my back, not since I lost Tommy.

  Jon pointed through the kitchen towards the stairs.

  No help for it, it's back to prison for me.

  He hissed after her. "I said move your ass," and then his heavy hand was propelling her forward.

  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I've never seen him this angry before.

  He didn't let her slow down until she was at the top of the stairs, where he released her with a push. "I'm going to let you walk down on your own."

  She was halfway down before he began following, a fact that got her running the last few steps, only to stumble and shoulder-check the wall at the bottom.

  The double thump of her heartbeat came so fast it felt like her chest might explode and she staggered into her room before he could throw her into it.

  He stopped in the doorway.

  "I expect you to behave yourself for Mildred tomorrow. If you make me leave work to deal with you, it's going to be a lot worse than the time I caught you lying to that football player."

  The door slammed shut, the lock clicking into place.

  She vowed that someday she would be free, and never again be at the mercy of Heroes.

  The tiny basement window eyed her with disdain, their hatred was mutual after many long days of being locked in her room. It was too small to crawl through, even if there had been a way to open it.

  The quiet thud of her shoes falling to the floor as she kicked them off was the only sound besides Jon's heavy footsteps on the stairs.

  Too tired to find her pajamas, Samantha lay on top of the blankets and stared at the ceiling. If anyone up there is listening, I could really use some help.

  Her last thought was the sinking realization that, without her real phone, she couldn't convince Susan or Lucky to coordinate a rescue. Not that either of them was in a hurry to help.

  Chapter 18

  Sunday May 23rd, 2010

  "Get up. Mildred will be down in half an hour. You had better get yourself ready for your appointment, or Detective Miller will receive a call about your erratic behavior and lying. I'm certain she'd want to know more about your fascination with Villains, too." The malice in Jon's voice, more than the words, yanked her awake.

  The slamming door was followed by the rattle of the lock, leaving Samantha alone with her thoughts.

  I think he wants to keep me here past my birthday. After Kevin has sucked my brains out a few more times, I might even like it. She shivered. It's time for Plan B. I'm going to save myself, since no one else will.

  Throwing aside the comforter and leaping out of bed, she traded her clothes from yesterday for a pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt printed with Edward Elric giving a thumbs up. With a few minutes to spare, she dug through her closet to find her big gray duffel bag. The battered old thing had brought her here when it was large enough to hold everything she owned. Now it will help me escape. Between this, my school bag, and my hiking knapsack, I should be able to pack the things I want to keep.

  All three fit easily under the bed for later, stashed out of sight.

  Mildred's light footsteps on the stairs brought Samantha back to attention and staring at the door. Sometimes Jon would walk quietly to see if he could catch her doing something he could punish her for.

  It was Mildred, to Samantha's relief, and she was alone.

  "It's time Sam, let’s get you in to see the doctor." She smiled vaguely. "You'll feel ever so much better after a good session with a skilled therapist."

  "Yes, Mildred." Meekly following behind, Samantha's thoughts raced. If I run now, I won't get far. I'm not ready, and the cops will just drag me back. I guess I can handle one last visit with Kevin, but this is absolutely going to be the last one.

  The drive was quiet, both women content with silence but for quite different reasons.

  Her brainless captor seemed unconcerned by the distance between them. Perhaps she would overlook other things at home, while Jon is away at work. She would wait for her moment, steeling herself for what was to come.

  A thick haze of ash lingered over The Intermountain Prime Research Facility. The entire complex of buildings had recently been burned to the ground by an escaping patient, though signs of the cleanup were already evident. A couple of people had died, including security guards, but most of the Villains incarcerated there had escaped.

  Dr. Darkle's temporary office consisted of a grey, single-wide trailer, setup in a parking lot filled with featureless office trailers. The man answered the door himself, his bird-brained but cheerful secretary nowhere in sight.

  His smile lacked warmth. "Welcome Mildred, Sam. Please come in and make yourselves comfortable. I am glad I had some free time in my schedule to help you both." Dr. Darkle ran his hand through his previously thick, black hair, now patchy and burned to stubble in places. It was plastered to his head in places, standing to attention in others, giving him a slightly mad appearance. His pale skin was dotted with peeling burns spread randomly across his face, and he had a large bruise under his right eye.

  Samantha leaned against Mildred's hand, which was on her lower back, pushing to stay outside.

  Mildred pressed harder against her.

  Kevin Darkle, oblivious to Samantha's reluctance, moved further into his office. He wasn't a large man, though his sheer presence normally more than made up for his lack of stature. On most days, his intimidating dark eyes, so brown they looked black, drew comparisons with twin black holes, sucking up everything they touched. Not now. Today his loose over-shirt was partly unbuttoned and wrinkled, his dark eyes bloodshot and bruised, leaving him somehow diminished.

  Mildred shoved Samantha forward with both hands but stayed on the porch by herself.

  "Thank you Dr. Darkle. Jon told me to ask you to focus on Sam today, since I had my session yesterday. Jon says to tell you that I am able to wait until my next regular session, if that is okay with you. Sam has been acting out and ignoring your rules since school finished, and the behavior appears to be worse every day." Her blank smile didn't offer any hints as to her own preferences.

  This is super sketchy; why didn't I see it before? Why does no one else see it? He really is doing something to us. A throbbing ache bloomed behind her eyes, threatening to grow into a migraine.

  "That's fine. Perfect actually. I am glad to hear you are responding so well to treatment, and Sam has been extremely helpful in sharpening my techniques, but you will tell Jon that my schedule is about to be quite busy. I will not be available again for sessions for quite some time." He patted her head affectionately, like a favorite dog.

  Is he going to let me go? Both of us? Samantha's heart swelled hopefully.

  Samantha's heart fell into her shoes when he didn't elaborate. He wasn't ever going to let her go, at least not before he had gathered his data and done who knows what else to her.

  "Thank you, Doctor." Mildred fell silent for a few seconds, as conflicting expressions raced across her face, before settling on a blank smile. "Jon says to tell you that he believes it is time to begin removing Sam from all medications. He does not believe they are helping the situation. Now that I am not in the way, he would like them discontinued as soon as possible." Mildred turned mechanically and walked back to her car, leaving a desperate Samantha alone with the Doctor.

  Frowning in thought, Doctor Darkle clicked the lock into place. "Ignoring my rules? That doesn't sound like you at all." He winked. "You've been a trying patient,
and I have learned a great deal about my own abilities by overcoming your resistance, but you are far enough along that disobeying shouldn't be a problem. Perhaps Jon is right, that your medical situation has caused lapses in your ability to follow my rules."

  "I don't want to be here, and I don't want to talk to you." She crossed her arms, hugging herself like a child, and stepping away from his outstretched hand.

  "Kevin's Rules. Go to the couch, sit down, and listen carefully to everything I say." Smile gone, his dark eyes followed her as she silently complied. He set out a small recording device and turned it on.

  A tv was bolted to the ceiling, with ear buds that reached to the couch. Today, there were no spirals or strange tones to distract her.

  Shifting Star entered the belly of the beast, aware that it sought to devour her. She consoled herself with the knowledge that today would see her free of his dark power. Her regularly scheduled migraine bloomed, hot behind her eyes.

  Instead of speaking, took his time settling into his chair and then lit a cigar.

  The smoke tickled her nose, bringing up unpleasant and half-forgotten memories of past sessions. "Please let me go home. I promise I won't tell Jon and Mildred if you let me go without a session, just this once."

  "That is quite enough. Kevin's Rules. Stop. Talking." His chair scraped against the cheap tiling until he sat next to her. He pressed one of his sweaty palms against her forehead.

  Warmth enveloped her, spreading from his hand up and down her spine. Her entire head heated as her breathing slowed. "I had planned on this being our final session to avoid any further entanglements with Screamdream, but your impossible defiance throws all my research in doubt. I absolutely must get to the bottom of this to ensure my Darklings do not experience similar problems. I am going to have to insist you come with me to ‘camp’ for a few weeks after all." He chuckled.

  "I don't like this. Stop," Samantha whimpered.

  He increased the pressure of his hand. "Sam, stop arguing and tell me, who are Mildred, Jon, and myself?"

  She struggled to keep her mouth from moving. "You are my Heroes, Sir." A rush of happiness slammed into her resistance like a battering ram.