by D. Laine
I didn’t know how I felt about that yet.
What alarmed me more right now was what they had said. Whatever had been detected behind my ear labeled me as one of them. The mark made me a killer—one of the very things that had killed David.
My eyes watered at the thought of him and the mental image of his lifeless body on the ground. I was not one of those things that had done that. Someone had made a mistake.
Those words were on my tongue when the door burst open a moment later. Three people stormed inside the small room, ramming my pleas down my throat. One woman waited near the door, her cool eyes fixed on me as two men surrounded me. They were all dressed in black, and carried metallic restraints similar to handcuffs.
They wrestled me onto the bed with unnecessary force considering I was incapable of resisting in my weak and dehydrated state. The restraints were secured around my ankles and wrists, and they strapped me down to the bed. Their arms were covered in a thick material that resembled bubble wrap. It abraded my face when they forced my head to the side to look behind my ear.
“It’s not complete yet,” one of them said.
Turning to the woman in the doorway, the other one ordered, “Get Spence. We need to know what he wants to do with this one.”
“She came in with Walker and Romero,” the woman cautioned.
“I don’t care. They’re assassins like the rest of them.”
“They—”
“I answer to Spence. Not them. Go get him!”
“It’s your funeral,” the woman muttered before leaving the room.
The two men backed away, eyeing me warily, like they expected something from me—though I had no idea what. I tried to wet my throat in preparation of speaking, but my mouth was as dry as the desert outside. Even my tears had dried.
A few minutes later, an older gentleman entered the room. Though he didn’t have his name etched into his uniform like the others, I assumed he was the one everyone referred to as Spence.
He peered at me with an expectant expression on his face. “Are you going to give us any trouble?”
I shook my head, and he nodded at the two guys flanking me. Their movements were hesitant as they loosened my restraints. I was still connected to the bed, but I had enough slack to move. I sat up only after they backed away, and rubbed my wrists where the metal bit into the skin.
Spence approached me with his arms folded across his chest. “Name?”
“Thea,” I croaked.
Spence glanced over his shoulder. “Get some water.”
As the woman scampered from the room, Spence continued. “Last name?”
“Collier,” I supplied, then added with a shrug, “It used to be Walker.”
“As in Jake Walker’s sister?” the man to the right of Spence wondered.
My eyes didn’t waver from Spence’s when I nodded. A muscle in his cheek twitched.
“How long ago did you enter the tunnel system?” Spence demanded.
“Three . . . maybe four days,” I guessed. “We didn’t really keep track of time.”
“When was your last contact with a vessel?”
“A vessel?” I shrugged when Spence nodded. “I haven’t seen a vessel since before the eruption.”
He darted a glance at the two men. The woman entered with a small plastic cup of water, and I sat up as straight as I could manage with my tired and sore limbs shackled to the bed. She inched forward to hand it to me, and I gulped it down with one greedy swallow.
The woman stared at me like she expected me to go on a murderous rampage at any moment. The men too, once I really took the opportunity to look at them. Their hands hovered mere inches from the weapons hidden on their waists.
Spence, on the other hand, eyed me calculatingly. Finally, he declared, “I want blood, saliva, urine, and hair samples. Get her hydrated and fed. Call me when you’re done.”
He left no room for questions before he breezed through the door, leaving me with three people who obviously had dubbed me their enemy from the moment I arrived.
My concerns about this place had been warranted, albeit misguided. This was not the salvation the others spoke of, nor was it the tag-infested nightmare I had feared.
It was worse.
8
DYLAN
I paced the shiny white floor like a caged lion. Across the room, Jake leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and head bowed. How he could manage to stay calm after his sister was yanked away from us like that was something I would never understand.
I couldn’t stand still. Though the water we had been given was long gone, most of the food remained untouched. I couldn’t eat. Not until I knew where they had taken Thea. Not until I knew she was alright.
I banged my closed fist on the heavy door. “Dammit, Spence! Let us the fuck out of here!”
“It’s not him, Dylan,” Jake muttered.
“You heard what those flyboys said when they tossed us in here.” I spun around on my partner. “They answer to him, same as we do. He runs this whole damn place.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Wait. You can you sense her, can’t you? That’s why you’re not beating down the door. You know she’s okay.”
He nodded stiffly. “She’s scared, but she’s fine.”
I heaved a relieved sigh. “Thank God for the connection, huh?”
“Only time she lets me in is when she’s scared or—” Jake barked a bitter laugh. “Most of the time I get nothing but a wall.”
“Don’t take it personally, man. She’s blocking everybody out. And me?” I spread my arms wide. “She fucking hates me.”
Jake’s eyes darted to the floor before he muttered, “She doesn’t hate you.”
Something that felt a little like hope blossomed in my chest, warming me from the inside out. “You’ve sensed something else, haven’t you?”
Jake shrugged. “You need to talk to her.”
“I’ve tried.”
“Try harder.”
I stared at Jake as if we had a twin-bond, attempting to decipher what he was telling me. But he was just as good as his sister at putting up walls when he wanted to. I got nothing beyond his words to me.
Try harder.
She doesn’t hate me.
Or at least, she hadn’t before today. I feared whatever she was going through right now—coupled with the knowledge that I had known about the mark behind her ear—might sway her opinion. If only I could get to her. I could try to explain.
The door swung open behind me, and my boss stepped into the room in his midnight-black uniform. The worry-lines around his eyes and the subtle wisps of gray framing his temples only added to the air of superiority that entered with him.
I didn’t give two shits that he was my superior when I leapt across the room at him.
“Spence, what the—”
“She’s fine, Romero,” he snapped. He held a hand out to silence me, and his eyes shifted to Jake. “She’s been taken to the medical floor as a precaution. We’re going to run some tests.”
“What kind of precaution?” I barked. “What tests?”
Jake pushed away from the wall with a hell of a lot more composure than I could muster at the moment. “Is there something to worry about here? Because from the moment we were sent into the field, we were told that we couldn’t be tagged. Considering she’s my blood relation, that should apply to her as well.”
Spence’s eyes narrowed on Jake. “You’re absolutely positive she’s your sister?”
“I’m positive.”
“Then the tests will confirm her immunity.” Spence shrugged. “Have you bonded?”
“Not . . . entirely.” Jake rolled his head. “I can sense her right now, though, and I know that she’s scared.”
Spence shifted to peer at me. “And what about you? You’re wound awfully tight. Even more so than usual.”
I shrugged. “She’s my partner’s sister. It’s called loyalty.”
Spence grunted as he
moved farther into the room. I glanced at the door as it glided shut behind him. As badly as I wanted to run out there and find Thea, I knew better than to do so when my boss obviously had something to say. Though I didn’t care so much about hearing it, I knew he could make my life hell if I ignored it.
“I had you two figured for dead,” Spence announced. “What happened?”
“We didn’t earn the honor of being your number one team for nothing,” I reminded him.
“We managed to find shelter from the eruption,” Jake added. “We walked here from Montana.”
Surprise flashed across Spence’s face before he covered it with cold, hard scrutiny. “How are the conditions up north?”
I snorted. “Apocalypse-worthy.”
“We didn’t encounter a large population of tags until we reached Nevada, sir,” Jake added. “There are—”
“We’ve been briefed on the situation by the others in your group,” Spence waved him off. “We’ll be looking into the matter.”
“We’re still fully operational?” I wondered.
Spence nodded stiffly. “Of course. This is the agency, son. We’ve had decades to prepare for this. Or have you forgotten?”
“But . . . communications? Transportation? How can—”
“Tomorrow. You get a twenty-four hour furlough to recover. Get some food and rest. Starting tomorrow, you’re back in the rotation. We’ll fill you in then.”
“And what about Thea, sir?” I questioned.
“You all are immune to being tagged,” Spence confirmed. “If she is one of us, she will never mature but she will carry the mark. We’ll give her quarters with the rest of you once she’s released from medical.” To Jake, he added, “We’ll put her in the vacant suite next door to you.”
“Vacant? But—”
“Team four was killed in action last week,” Spence explained.
My stomach churned when I glanced at Jake. While we were equally stunned to silence, Spence moved toward the door.
“You’re free to return to your quarters,” he announced.
Long after the door shut behind him, neither of us moved.
WALKING the halls of the agency again gave me the impression that everything was okay, even if I knew it wasn’t. Buried underground, hidden from the dangers on the surface, the compound served as a well-guarded, protective bubble.
The command center—Spence’s office and everything else that kept operations functional—was located on level three. Above that were the levels that housed the generators and necessary provisions, and were the starting point for those going to the surface.
Leaving level three, Jake and I took the stairs down. We jogged past the entrance to level four, where the ass-kissing command center agents who got off on ordering us assassins around resided in their suites. I slowed outside the entrance to level five, where the training facilities, mess hall, and medical ward were located.
“Keep going,” Jake ordered softly.
“What if—”
“She’s fine, Dylan. You heard Spence. They’re just checking her over. Just like they did us.”
“Oh, God,” I groaned. “All those shots and wires and . . .” I shuddered at the unpleasant memories of being prodded by the agency’s “doctors” once a year since the age of twelve, for reasons only known by them.
“She’ll be alright.” He shrugged when a thought occurred to him. “She might even be in her suite already.”
That suggestion got me moving down the stairs quickly. I swung the door to level six open, banging it off the wall as I hurried into the corridor. Bright fluorescent light shined down on me as my boots thumped across the starch white floor. Doors lined the long and narrow hallway on each side. All closed.
I marched past several before something unsettling occurred to me.
“Jake?”
“Yeah?”
I turned to find his face contorted in confusion as he stared at the closest door.
“It’s really quiet.”
He nodded. “Mmm-hmm.”
“I don’t like the feel of this,” I muttered.
Assassins were not a quiet bunch. When we were on furlough, we enjoyed it. Loudly. So either everyone was out on a mission right now, or . . .
“Let’s just get to our rooms,” Jake suggested.
Suites 512 and 514 beckoned us. Conveniently located across the hall from the showers, they were considered prime real estate. I was shocked no one had swiped them up since Spence made it clear that Jake and I had been assumed dead weeks ago.
The unsettling thought that no one was left to take them raced through my head.
I waited in the hallway while Jake withdrew the replacement key card he had been given before we left the command center. Mine was in my pocket—to suite 514—but I hitched a ride inside with Jake.
The moment he swung his door open, I made a beeline for the adjoining door to the right of his lounge—to suite 510.
“Thea?” I pounded on the door. “Open up.”
I waited. When no response came, I tried the door knob. It was locked.
“She’s not in there, Dylan.”
I turned a pair of narrowed eyes on Jake. “You know that for sure?”
He nodded once. “For sure.”
“Fine.” I stalked across the open room, bypassing Jake on my way to the other door.
All the suites were connected. The agency thought providing us with easy access to one another would help build strong relationships within the group. In theory, it didn’t sound like a bad idea. They never considered the ramifications of cramming a bunch of hormone-crazed teenagers with no supervision into a small space. Many nights during our training years had been nothing but a merry-go-round of hookups.
Once Spence caught on, the agency’s hammer came down on us. The “no fraternization” rule was added to the handbook. All the girls had been given an implant or something to keep them from getting knocked up, and the rest of us were given a handful of condoms and a half-assed warning.
Since we were all adults now, and no longer confined to the compound, it wasn’t as bad as it had once been. Still, the occasional hookup got past the watchful eye of command thanks to the connected doors.
Example: Maria Chavez, located two suites down from me.
The door connecting me to Marcus was shut when I entered my own quarters. I swept a gaze around the lounge area. One cozy, beige loveseat and a matching chair faced the wall and the flat screen television. In a small niche behind the seat were three cabinets and some counter space holding a mini-coffee pot. Wedged into the corner was a miniature fridge. Taking up most of the left side was my bedroom—accessed through the white door off the kitchen area.
I swung open the cabinet that housed my snack stash. I sampled one chip, only to spit out the rubbery substance and toss the rest. The donuts were hard as bricks, and I had no coffee.
“Someone stole my fucking coffee!” I shouted to Jake through the open door.
“They didn’t touch mine,” he called back.
In my bedroom, I found everything exactly as I had left it. I unarmed myself one weapon at a time, and stored them in their usual spot under the bed. Some assassins had fancy cases for their weapons. I wasn’t picky about that sort of stuff.
I opened the chest containing my clothes and eagerly grabbed a clean change of everything. Down to the socks. Especially the socks.
Stepping back into Jake’s suite, I asked, “Any word on Thea yet?”
His head poked out his bedroom door. “It’s been three minutes.”
“Felt like longer,” I muttered at the floor. “I’m going to go shower and shave this shit off my face. Brush my teeth for no less than fifteen minutes.” Stealing a glance at my reflection in Jake’s black television screen, I ran my fingers through my hair and added, “I think I need a buzz, too.”
Jake’s head appeared in the doorway again, and he glanced me over. “Yeah, you look like you could be the fourth Jonas brother with that �
�do.”
I jabbed a finger at him as I moved toward the door. “What’s sad is that you actually know that.”
“You were the one who bought their first CD,” he shouted as I stepped into the empty hallway.
Thank God no one was there, because my adolescent preference in music was not something I wanted to share with the entire team of assassins. Fortunately, my tastes had evolved since then, and I now preferred the much more respectable classic rock tunes my parents used to force on me.
Before the web of sadness and regret that typically followed thoughts of my family could grow, I shook it loose. Not today. I already had more than enough to grieve over today.
Across the hall, I found the men’s shower room empty. I promptly stripped out of the clothes I had worn well past the point of decency and tossed them into the communal laundry bin. If they were salvageable, they would be washed and put back into circulation.
I didn’t care if I never saw them again.
My muscles thanked me when I stepped under the stream of clean, warm water. I didn’t think I had ever enjoyed a shower more. Except that one memorable morning with Thea. But that had been more “sex in the vicinity of a shower.” Completely different situation.
I closed my eyes and dropped my head to allow the water to run through my hair. Grit and ash ran off of me and swirled down the drain at my feet.
I wished it was that easy to get rid of the thoughts and visions that plagued me. It would be a long time before I would be able to close my eyes without seeing David’s final moments play out in my head.
It had been so sudden, so unexpected. None of us had been able to react quickly enough to save him. The only reassurance I got from seeing it happen was knowing that he had died quickly, with little pain and suffering.
But I knew Thea blamed herself. Why the tag had bypassed her and went for David was pure luck. It wasn’t her fault, though I suspected she felt that it was somehow.
She needed a friend now more than ever, and he was gone. Jake and I would likely be her least favorite people after today. How would I explain my reasoning for not telling her that I knew about the mark behind her ear? How would I convince her to trust me now?