Silver and Gold (Red and Black Book 3)

by Nancy O'Toole Meservier

  But seriously, screw that! I was in full-on panic mode, my mind going a million miles a minute. I had two acceptable responses in this situation. Fight or flight. Given that they had taken away my preferred method, I was going to settle for what I had left.

  What would Golden Strike do?

  And then they took me into one of the glassed-in rooms and that flicker of bravery expired.

  “No,” I sobbed as I took one look at that white hospital bed. “No-no-no-please no.”

  Only they didn’t listen, pressing me down into the white bed, forcing my arms and legs into heavy metal restraints that went all the way up to my elbows and knees. One of the men in black pressed a button on the side of the bed, and they tightened to the point of physical pain. The two of them backed up, and two fair-skinned women dressed in white approached.

  One woman, with her dark hair pulled back into a bun, held a syringe. The other a knife.

  “What? I—”

  My body tensed as the woman with the knife drew close. Before I could respond, she had torn open the sleeve of my black jacket near the shoulder. My favorite jacket, my mind supplied as the sound of torn fabric filled the air.

  Then the woman with the syringe crouched next to me.

  “Wait!” I said, as she lowered it to my right bicep. “Please don’t. Please—”

  She stabbed the needle in deep enough to hit bone and pressed the plunger down.

  And then she moved back fast, dropping the needle in a nearby medical waste bin. She was still tearing off her gloves as she made her way to the door with the men in black, the doors sliding shut mere seconds after she had passed them. The clear glass went opaque.

  And then I noticed two very distinct things.

  One, there was a digital clock on the wall, counting down from sixty seconds.

  And two, the room was completely silent. Save for the sound of my own labored breathing.

  Swallowing, I craned my neck toward the injection site, only to find that I couldn’t quite see it. The restraints did too good of a job holding me down.

  What had they done to me?

  I could feel my hands and feet go numb, but I didn’t know if it was due to whatever they had injected me with, or the fact that the restraints were tight enough to cut off circulation. I swallowed, looking up at the ceiling, and then the clock on the wall, watching the seconds silently count down, wondering what was going to happen at the end.

  3…2…1…

  Three sharp beeps split the air, and the metal bands released with a hiss. Gasping in relief, I pushed myself into a sitting position. I pulled my arms out of the now-useless restraints and saw that two red lines had already formed around my biceps. I turned my arm around, looking at the injection site. And it looked…normal. Like the tetanus shot I had received the summer before attending Bailey U.

  Why had they left so soon? It was as if they were afraid that I was going to explode or something.

  I heard another hiss and looked up. That one came from the doors, sliding open once more.

  And it wasn’t so quiet anymore.

  The sounds of screams echoed around the large room outside, causing me to scramble backward. Was it safer in here? What if they closed the doors again? The thought of being locked back up in a small space was enough to send my heart racing. No, better to go outside. Look for some way to escape. Maybe…

  My feet were unsteady as they hit the ground, half from the lack of circulation, the other half from fear. I stumbled forward and passed through the open doorway.

  And felt a hand close around my ankle.

  I jumped to the right with a yelp, looking down to see a redheaded guy, a teenaged boy with white skin and freckles, lying on the ground, his eyes wide in fear.

  “H-help me,” he said. “S-something’s holding me—”

  He was cut off by the sound of his own leg breaking. No, this was no clean break. It looked as if a giant foot had squished it completely flat. I yanked back in fear, scrambling back toward my glassed-in pod only to find the doors had been closed. Another snap filled the air, crushing his second leg, and the boy’s screams…Oh god, they didn’t even sound human anymore. I watched in horror as the rest of his body was pulverized in four sickening snaps, the final one cutting off his voice as his head was flattened to the ground. I watched as blood began to spread from what was once a human body, a person, screaming in pain.

  The rest of the room was still screaming.

  “I can’t see! I can’t see!”

  I turned to my left to see a man running toward me, his eyes empty, bloody caverns. He reached in my direction, as if sensing my presence, before tripping over his own two feet. He hit the floor, and his body was immediately consumed by convulsions.

  Several feet in front of me, a woman stood perfectly still, staring at her own hands. As they began to vanish, her eyes widened, her mouth open in a soundless scream.

  Three harsh beeps filled the air. I turned my head just in time to see a dark-haired girl, the same one who had begged me to help her, stumbling out of her glass prison several doors down. The second her eyes met mine she began to scream—not in fear, but in pain.

  The reason why immediately became obvious. Her arms, outstretched, burst into flame.

  Before I could register what was going on, the fire rushed toward her center mass.

  “Teresa!”

  A guy with dark, curly hair dashed across the room to the woman, now half a pillar of flame. He reached out and grabbed her flaming arms, and I felt a “no!” leave my lips in an airy gasp. Only instead of catching on fire too, his hands began to glow. A clear blue sphere, reminding me of the Invisible Woman’s force fields, popped outward, engulfing the two of them completely. The fire snuffed out as if it was nothing more than a candle flame. They collapsed to the floor.

  “Teresa!” The man hollered, shaking her. “Teresa!”

  The woman—the body—remained still.

  The man’s mouth gaped open in shock, his eyes wide. I watched as he let out a thundering holler.

  And the blue sphere that surrounded them pulsed outward.

  I could feel the moment it hit me, as all the oxygen was forced from my lungs. I reached up, grabbing my throat, only to find that I wasn’t choking, not really. There was simply no air left in the room to breathe. I collapsed to the floor, feeling darkness pull me in again as I choked.

  And then I saw Lilah’s face hover above mine, pushing through my memories. Her eyes were filled with tears.

  “Oh, Dawn,” she said.

  8

  Alex

  For the next leg of the journey, I took a cue from Alan and kept silent. Connor read directions from his phone. We drove to the site where Dawn had been kidnapped, and then toward the destination where she had been kept for well over a month.

  And it was uncomfortable, especially when Connor had explained how Dawn had needed to relive her actual abduction to get that information. When Alan asked if she was okay, the archer had paused, frowning before admitting the memories had “left her in a bad way” and that Lilah had needed to “pull her out of it.”

  “So, what?” I had asked. “Is that it? We know where the place is. Wasn’t that the information we were going after?”

  “How was Dawn able to remember the exact route?” Alan had interjected. “I highly doubt that her kidnappers showed her a map.”

  Connor had replied that Dawn hadn’t remembered. Lilah had managed to piece it together between the posted speed limit, maps of the road, when the vehicle appeared to have turned left or right, and, as Connor had put it, her “crazy good sense of direction.”

  “To answer your question,” he had said, turning back to me, “Lilah doesn’t seem all that jazzed about putting Dawn under again. Although knowing where Project Regen was does help, it doesn’t necessarily give us all the intel we need. For all we know, we’ll show up to the place to find it torn down or buried.”

  “So, you think Dawn needs to remember more?” I
had asked. “How do we even know that information will be helpful?”

  “We don’t,” Connor had replied, his cheerful bro-like manner all but evaporated. “Which is why we need to leave the decision up to Dawn.”

  “Turn right in about five hundred feet,” Connor dictated from the back of the car, bringing me back to the present. “Or not.”

  I blinked, looking out my window just as Alan pulled the car over to the side of the road. So far, Lilah’s directions had pretty much been on point, bringing us out of rich people vacation zone and into farm and cow territory. But this right wasn’t bringing us to another highway. Instead, we stopped at a rusted iron gate, which led into a field. A dirt road ran parallel to it.

  “Let me open up the gate.” Connor reached for his seat belt.

  “Don’t bother,” Alan said, turning off his car. “There’s no way my car can make it through that.”

  “No shit,” I murmured. “Fuck you, mud season.”

  Give it some time, and it would have been another story. Once the last of the snow was long gone, and the sun did more than just make an appearance. But now, the dirt road was more mud than anything else, a bad call for Alan’s sedan, or hell, even the Forgers’ SUV. It didn’t help that the “road” in question wasn’t much of one to begin with. More like an impression left behind by the tires of passing trucks.

  “You guys wouldn’t happen to have any ATVs on you? Not that I know how to drive one.” I looked to Connor.

  He shook his head in response.

  “Then I guess we have to walk the rest of the way,” I said, unbuckling my seat belt.

  “Wonderful,” Alan said, the bitterness clear in his voice as he turned off the car.

  And given that was the most pronounced emotion I had felt from the guy during the entire car ride, I couldn’t help but comment on it.

  “Problem?” I asked.

  Alan closed his eyes before responding. “Shoes.”

  The single word sparked something in my mind, and I found myself nodding.

  “Yeah, on that note, I think I’m gonna need a minute. More likely fifteen.”

  I fastened the last strap on my loaner suit of armor, wondering how in the hell I had found myself in this situation again. The armor was, as Connor had warned me, not custom fit, making it less comfortable than the old set had been, especially with my broad-ass shoulders. It was, as I had suspected, heavier, too. Hopefully, this meant more protection, but there was no denying that it was going to tire me out a helluva lot faster.

  Of course, the new armor did come with some perks. A utility belt that Lilah and Connor had already suited up with a few essentials: a flashlight, a thin but sturdy-looking rope, a pouch for my phone, and a taser, of all things. Why would I need a taser?

  I chose to keep the helmet off, not particularly concerned about concealing my identity. We hadn’t seen a single car since we had pulled over. This was impressive given that it had taken me—as suspected—a good fifteen minutes to figure out the new armor. Instead, I tossed the head gear in my gym bag, which also held a couple bottles of water, some protein bars, and my jacket. We didn’t know how long this would take, after all.

  When I stepped out from behind the car, I saw Connor and Alan standing near the gate. Connor had removed his sweatpants and hoodie, revealing his black and silver costume underneath. He was in the process of stringing his bow.

  By comparison, Alan, in his button-up and leather jacket, looked both over- and underdressed.

  “Where are your arrows?” I asked Connor as I approached. “I don’t think they’re gonna fit in there.”

  I nodded at the small pack at his feet, not much larger than a kid’s lunch box.

  “Nah, man, just some survival supplies in case this takes us longer than expected,” he said. “As for the arrows, don’t you worry about them.”

  I rolled my eyes and turned to Alan, handing him the taser.

  “Do you know how to use one of these?” I asked.

  “It seemed prudent when I moved to Boston,” he replied. “Although I’ve never had to use one. Thank you.”

  He tucked it into his pocket, and I nodded. Seemed wrong not to give the one guy without any powers some way to defend himself.

  “Sorry that took so long,” I told them both. “What can I say. Didn’t want to ruin my one pair of shoes.”

  That and I had a sneaking suspicion that I would need the extra protection.

  On a different day, the walk would have been kinda nice. The field eventually changed into a thick forested area, probably what had used to cover the whole place before it had been turned into farmland. The animal noises—singing birds and shit—were calming, not creepy. We were surrounded by mountains, and to our right stood towering powerlines, built up on thick posts, guiding our way even better than the tire tracks in the mud. It was unseasonably warm, in the low fifties, and the sun was at least trying to break through the clouds. The dry heat was almost enough to keep the road from getting too slippery.

  Almost.

  Alan cursed as his right foot went out from under him after hitting a slick patch of mud. I reached out with a grunt and took his left elbow, doing my best to keep the both of us upright. He steadied himself and let out a sigh.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  His voice was cool. From what I could tell, this was a sign that he was less than pleased. It was nice to have his annoyance pointed at something other than me.

  “No worries,” I said. “I’m sure if you knew you were gonna go on a hike today, you would have picked grubbier clothes.”

  “I don’t own any grubby clothes.”

  “Oh?”

  “I don’t see the point in buying things if I’m not going to use them. That includes clothes. A hoodie.” He nodded toward Connor, who was several paces in front of us. “Makes me look like an underfed high school student. I learned long ago that if you want to be taken seriously, you have to dress the part.”

  I let out a thoughtful hum, thinking back on how Alan’s suit had, if anything, made me less likely to take him seriously. But commenting on that didn’t seem like the best idea. Instead, I nodded to Connor, who was cresting a small hill.

  “So, why do you think that fucker hasn’t slipped yet. Is it part of his powers?”

  “Likely,” Alan said. “In the comics, Silver Shot has enhanced agility and dexterity on top of his regular powers.”

  “Shit, you read those too?”

  “No,” he said with a small smile. “Although Dawn is more than willing to fill me in on what I’ve missed.” He paused. “I must admit, he isn’t what I expected.”

  “Too much of a bro?”

  “Well, that. But I’m more talking about the fact that he appears older than a man of thirty-two.”

  I frowned.

  “He looks about forty,” I admitted. “Genetics, probably. Either that or the vigilante lifestyle in New York is about as hard as you might think.”

  “Um…guys?” We heard him call from ahead.

  “Coming!” I replied.

  Alan and I picked up the pace and made our way over the hill. The reason for all those tire tracks became apparent, with the road ending at a substation next to the power lines. It let out a hum that I could hear from a hundred feet away. Several car lengths in front of that stood Connor, staring at the trees.

  ” ’Sup, man?” I asked as we approached him.

  “It’s supposed to be here,” he stated, looking down at his phone and frowning. “The directions say to take a right, right here. Only…”

  He gestured toward the trees, then let his hand drop.

  And my stomach dropped with it, because in front of us was nothing, just more trees that continued to lead up the side of a mountain.

  “Wait,” Connor said, “maybe there was a road before—”

  “Ten months ago?” Alan shook his head. “It would take much longer than that for the trees to grow back.”

  I kicked a clump of dirt in frustrat
ion. A dead end? Now? Didn’t Forecaster say that protecting Alan would show us the way? I swear, if Dawn had suffered for some stupid mistake—

  “Hey,” Connor said, his voice now soft and calm. “We knew these directions were estimations. Why don’t we look around and see if maybe Lilah just miscalculated?”

  I looked up to see both Connor and Alan looking at me. No, that wasn’t right. Connor was looking at me, his hands raised up. Alan was looking at my right foot. The one that had just kicked the dirt.

  Beneath it, cracks had begun to form in the earth, reaching out a couple of feet in two directions.

  I didn’t remember doing that.

  “Yeah,” I said, stepping back. “I’ll head this way.”

  I pointed to the substation, making my way forward. Half of my attention was focused on the trees. The other half…

  I frowned. I had been upset, sure, but not upset enough to break something by accident. That had been a big problem when I was a teenager. My powers had been activated after I had almost died in a fall, leaving me stuck in bed for an entire summer. I had been frustrated then, shattering my fair share of dinner plates. But now, I had a pretty good handle on things. I only broke something if I was really upset. And as much as this whole thing had put me on edge, I knew I wasn’t there yet.

  Something stark-white caught my eye and I froze, looking at the trees in front of me.

  “Hey, guys?” I called back. “I know I’m a city boy and all, but does that tree look different from the others?”

  Connor and Alan jogged toward me. Alan, who had already been examining the trees, got there first.

  “It’s a white birch,” he said. “Not exactly unknown up here, but…” He paused, walking toward it. “The bark has been stripped.”

  “Something wrong?” Connor asked.

  I heard a sharp click come from Alan’s direction. And I’ll admit, I jumped. It had sounded a lot like the release of a safety on a gun.

  Then Alan moved aside to reveal a panel that had been built into the birch tree, just big enough for a keypad and a small display screen.