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Superluminary (Powered Destinies Book 1)

Page 40

by Olivia Rising


  “Will do, boss.” Peter gave a mock salute.

  “Sure,” Nora said.

  Chris considered offering to go with their leader so he wouldn’t be out there alone, but the prospect of getting bonding time with her other teammates appealed to her more. “Have fun, boss,” she murmured.

  The Counselor paused in front of the door. “You’re in charge of the group until I’m back,” he told Peter. “Make sure everyone behaves.”

  Peter puffed up at the words. “I’ve got it covered.”

  Nora rolled her eyes.

  Time for O to play the big hero, Chris thought, amused. Once the screen door slammed shut, the four of them were left alone.

  “Gumshoe meeting!” Emily called out. “Let’s figure this out like Shirley Holmes and Bo.”

  “I never saw myself as a kiddie serial detective,” Nora grumbled.

  Emily shrugged. “How about the mean Molly Hardy then?”

  Chris didn’t have a clue what they were talking about, but figuring things out sounded like a good plan. A whole lot better than looking through someone’s stuff until their team leader finished checking connections hidden from the rest of them.

  “All right,” she began, settling back against the couch. “I think we’re missing something important. We don’t know why the person who grabbed Chayton was both man and woman, and it’s still not clear how the Historian ties into the case.”

  “But the clothes his girlfriend found confirm the connection,” Nora stated. “Fits with the pattern of the other disappearances in South America.”

  Chris nodded.

  “But what about the prophecy?” Peter took a seat in the wooden chair their team leader just vacated. “Does it fit?”

  “A kid who was hurt fits the picture of a martyr,” Chris suggested. “And he came out of nowhere. There weren’t any reports about anyone with regeneration powers back then.”

  “Those two years in between the disappearances don’t make any sense,” Nora said.

  No one disagreed.

  Emily furrowed her auburn brows. “I think we’re still missing a lot of stuff.”

  As the Wardens sat in silence for a long moment, Chris rolled over the missing evidence in her head. One thing in particular had given her an uncomfortable tingle ever since she woke up that morning—she just had to figure out what it was.

  “Just because their clothes get left behind,” she began, “isn’t proof they’re dead, right? I mean, they’re off-grid and the Covenant can’t find them, but there isn’t any real proof they’re dead.”

  Nora pursed her lips in thought. “All we know is Evolved keep disappearing.”

  “So if you think they’re still alive,” Peter countered, “then why can’t they be tracked by Queenie?”

  “I dunno,” Chris admitted. “Why can’t she track the European Evolved who disappeared? We don’t know. I’m just pointing out that we don’t have proof they’re dead.” She thought back to the briefing they had with the various government representatives two days before. It felt like months ago. “The only reason the Counselor and the bigwigs think it’s a serial killer is because clothes are usually left behind and there’s a pattern to the disappearances. Right?”

  “A serial pattern,” Emily added.

  “It’s the only explanation that makes sense,” Nora argued. “If they’re not dead, that means there’s a bunch of naked mind-controlled people following some psycho around.”

  “That would draw too much attention,” Peter said, looking amused by the idea. When his tone became serious, he added, “Maybe that’s why they all burrow underground.”

  “That’s still just a theory,” Nora responded. “We don’t have any proof they’re underground, or that they’re mind-controlled for that matter.”

  Chris burrowed her face in her shoulder, thinking. What are we missing?

  “It would have helped if the bossman asked why the Indian guy carved those protection symbols,” Nora said.

  “And how he knew the visitor was both a man and a woman,” Peter added.

  “Or what made him appear supernatural,” Emily piled on.

  Chris nodded. These were questions that had been swimming around in her own mind for the past twenty-four hours. How could our esteemed investigator leave all these questions unasked? She wondered again. She tried to trust that the Counselor knew what he was doing, but this whole mission felt like a wild goose chase to her. The higher-ups don’t expect us to find anything, a mean little voice whispered in her head. They sent us here for good PR, nothing else.

  Knowing she was right was the worst part.

  “Maybe we should go back to Cowley and get Emily to channel Chayton again,” Nora suggested.

  Peter gave an exaggerated shudder. “God, no! I’m done with visiting backwood towns. Besides, I don’t think I could handle hearing that creepy voice again.”

  Emily looked relieved that they weren’t going to do this all over again, and Chris felt the same way.

  This is taking a toll on her, she thought. Despite Emily’s brave face, she could see the girl no longer wanted to be the conduit for some crazy lunatic, whatever he or she was.

  He or she.

  Oh, shit. Something clicked into place, sending a chill down her spine.

  What if it’s the voice? she thought, alarmed. What if our killer talks with two voices—a male and female one, like Kid when she’s channeling someone else? Chayton carved protection symbols after hearing the visitor speak.

  She turned to Peter. “Do you know of any Evolved women who disappeared before the Sioux guy?”

  He pulled out his Wardens phone, presumably to google for answers, when he stopped short. “Wait. You think it’s a he who became a she by eating someone?” he asked, following her train of thought.

  “Basically, yeah.”

  “It makes sense,” Nora mused. “Unless it’s a woman who snacked on a man?”

  Good point.

  Chris was about to elaborate when her danger sense knocked the wind out of her, overwhelming her with a tidal wave of agony more intense than anything she ever felt before, doubling her over in pain. The threat potential coming through her danger sense was so severe it made the bile rise in her throat, but just before she could throw up it stopped.

  Emily clung to her arm, tugging on it. “Are you okay? Talk to me, come on, please?” the little girl shouted.

  Peter and Nora were now kneeling in front of Chris, their faces marked by identical looks of shock and concern.

  “He’s here,” Chris rasped, pushing up from her seat.

  4.7 Investigation

  Grand Marronnier, Canada

  Sunday, the 10th of June, 2012

  11:04 a.m.

  He’s here.

  Chris didn’t have time to think about how their target had reached them so fast. Her teammates stared at her, waiting for her to explain what was going on, but she wasn’t sure. The last victim had disappeared less than twenty-four hours ago in Venezuela, a few thousand miles away.

  “What do you mean, he’s here?” Nora asked, anxious.

  Chris stood by the couch, rubbing at her temples. The painful feedback from her danger sense had been unlike anything she ever experienced before, but it only lasted for a second. She could guess what that meant. The bogeyman had passed through, in and out of her range in an instant, on its way to the next victim.

  “Well, he was here,” she clarified for the others. “I think he’s gone now.”

  “He was here?” Peter squeaked.

  Chris’s stomach was a bitter hard lump that still wanted to float up into her throat. She swallowed hard. “Yeah. I … I think he’s gone after the boss,” she managed, already on her way to the door.

  “You can’t go out there alone!” Emily protested.

  Chris stopped at the door to project force fields around all of the Wardens, herself included. “Yes, I can. He’s moving fast, and I’m the only one who can keep up with him.”

  I’
m the only one who stands a chance of surviving this, she added silently. The people who had disappeared didn’t have force fields, and she didn’t want to rely on Saint’s protection to keep her teammates alive.

  Chris put her hand on the doorknob before anyone could argue. “You guys stay here and keep Emily safe, okay?” she ordered. “And stay inside. He doesn’t like houses, so you should be safe in here.”

  She didn’t take the time to grab her helmet off the table. She pushed the door open, and activated her hyperspeed as she stepped outside, forcing the world to slow around her. The warble of birds became an eerie string of low popping sounds. Insects hung in the air, their tiny winged bodies brushing against her skin whenever she collided with them.

  Her danger sense was deathly silent. Maybe the killer isn’t after any of us, Chris thought, failing to convince herself that their investigation target just so happened to be passing through the area. The Counselor was somewhere out there, and she knew she didn’t have the time to search the area for him.

  Not sure if it would work or not, she took a chance and conjured up a mental image of her team leader in his stupid checkered suit and deerstalker hat, reaching out with her power, trying to create a force field wherever he might be. The energy didn’t take hold. She couldn’t tell whether she was out of range or if her power required a visible target.

  Damn it, she thought, propelling herself ahead.

  When she reached a familiar-looking thicket of spruce trees, Chris could tell she was nearing the bird nesting sanctuary. The sacred stone pillar Emily mentioned earlier had to be nearby. For expediency she ignored the trail the Wardens followed earlier, making a beeline straight through the heavy forest cover. The time-slowing effect accompanying her hyperspeed helped her to dodge low branches and protruding roots.

  After breaking through twenty or thirty feet of dense bush, each cluster of trees and brambles looked exactly the same. Her danger sense was triggered before she was able to regain her bearings, forcing her to stop and fight the urge to

  share in the divine experience of pain

  double over and lose the contents of her stomach. This time, she was a little more prepared for the psychic assault. Instead of shutting down her mind, it filled her with a sense of dread and a flood of emotions that were not her own. In the brief moment it took her to adjust her energy barrier and shut them out, she sensed a muddle of

  lonelinesscuriousfearfulsufferinglovingrage

  conflicting emotions. Some still came through, but they were dull enough that she could keep herself together. Avoid going insane.

  This isn’t just one person, Chris realized in the pit of her stomach. He’s several people, and all of them are batshit crazy.

  She gritted her teeth and ran in the general direction of the bird nesting sanctuary. With part of her concentration invested in her barrier, dodging the forest obstacles became more of a challenge. Twigs whipped against her force field, roots threw her off balance, and her legs bumped into more hurdles than she could keep track of. While running, she readjusted the size and shape of her force field to make herself as small a target as possible.

  It stopped. The psychic assault was gone, leaving her as abruptly as it had in the cabin. She must have chosen the wrong direction and run out of range.

  Damn it! Chris cursed at herself for letting her target get away. She stopped beside a tree trunk and punched her fist against the bark. Her only consolation was that the Counselor was safe now, since the killer had apparently moved on. Unless he already got what he came for. She pushed the thought away, too frustrated to dwell on it.

  “Don’t you fucking run away!” she screamed into the woods, sending a flock of birds into flight, chirruping as they scattered into the air. She balled both of her hands into fists and screamed, “Come talk to me, you crazy asshole!”

  For a few long moments, nothing happened. Not even a single bird moved in the treetops. No sound came from the forest. Resolved, she made her way back in the direction from where she had come. The farther she went, the more oppressive the surrounding silence felt. It was almost as if every living thing around her was paralyzed with fear, refusing to make a sound.

  Just as she moved a limb to walk through the brush, something crashed into her force field and ricocheted off her back, knocking her to the forest floor.

  What the fuck?

  She was completely disoriented during the slow-motion millisecond it took her to fall. She didn’t see more than a blur of movement at the edge of her peripheral vision, but she felt something grab at her legs as she tumbled into a tall patch of thorny shrubbery. After she landed, her vision was momentarily reduced to a muddle of light and leaves and thorny twigs.

  Feeling the pressure on her force field, she struggled to free herself. Whatever it was produced a strange kind of feedback, something different from the impact of the gunshots she absorbed in the shopping mall construction zone. It felt like her attacker was tracing her energy barrier rather than damaging it. Each slithering shift of pressure gave her goosebumps and a dizzying tingle in her head.

  Instinctively, Chris rolled onto her back and pulled her legs up. As she raised her head through the shrub, she caught a glimpse of dark-colored movement as something withdrew into the ground with a lightning-quick slither faster than her eyes could follow. Whatever it was, it didn’t have the size or shape of a person.

  That’s the teenager we’re looking for? She thought, perplexed. Her mind couldn’t form a connection between the shape she had seen and any creature she had known. It took her another second to realize that it—whatever it was—hadn’t triggered her danger sense this time. But why?

  As the initial shock of the impact wore off, Chris pushed herself up from the ground and stood, scanning the forest floor for any kind of movement. The silence around her was eerie. No birds chirped. No squirrels stirred. Not a single insect buzzed through the air. The absence of a target frustrated her more. How was she supposed to fight something she couldn’t even locate?

  “Stop hiding, you fucking coward!” Chris shouted into the silent thicket. “Come on, I’ll even lower my protection!” she lied. She didn’t trust Saint’s power to protect her from harm—especially not from being absorbed by this horrific slithering thing.

  Someone responded. Or rather, something.

  The shadows in the undergrowth came to life and drifted up to meld together into a vague humanoid shape with overly long and slender limbs that dragged over the forest floor as it moved. Its jaw gaped open, overextending to the point of grotesque and revealing a row of jagged shadowy teeth.

  Mr. Black?

  The thought had just formed in her mind when the shadow creature lurched and plunged into the forest floor. Its elongated limbs trailed behind until they disappeared as well, swallowed up by the ground.

  Damn it, Nora. You’re not supposed to be out here. I told you to stay back with the others. Chris scanned her surroundings, hoping to find her teammate among the trees before the thing emerged again.

  She didn’t get the chance. The forest floor shook similar to an earthquake. It didn’t knock her off her feet, but it was powerful enough to shake a cascade of leaves off their branches. A high-pitched chorus of screeches came from below.

  Screaming, Chris realized with alarm. The thing is still here. Mr. Black found it.

  She pressed her hands to her ears in an attempt to shut out the blood-curdling noise. The screams came in different voices, male and female, each one expressing its pain and rage in a different pitch. Chris tried not to think of the faces of the disappeared, somewhere down there, driven insane by whatever it was that had killed them.

  No, not killed. Devoured.

  The ground had shaken directly beneath her feet, indicating the monster was nearby. Or had been. Chris wasn’t sure anymore. The screaming had stopped, but she couldn’t spot Mr. Black anywhere.

  Damn it, Nora. Where are you?

  The silent forest had no answer for her, but Chris had to
assume he was still somewhere nearby if it had been the bogeyman’s presence that had driven the local wildlife into hiding. Something told her that her force field had protected her from more than just a physical assault.

  Nora, you dumbass, she thought, her heartbeat speeding with worry. I told you to stay at the cabin.

  Chris unzipped the pocket of the costume with a single desperate pull. She grabbed her new Warden-sponsored cell phone so fast she nearly dropped it. Two bars. It wasn’t the best signal, but hopefully it was good enough to make a call.

  She selected Noire from the short list of contacts before pressing the phone to her ear. As the call connected, she heard the ringtone echo through the forest. It was too distant to pinpoint the direction, but Nora’s phone was definitely out there.

  But she wasn’t picking it up.

  “Come on, pick up,” Chris muttered after a dozen rings.

  At last there was a click followed by Nora’s voice. “Yeah?” She sounded wary and winded, but alive.

  “I told you to stay in the fucking cabin,” Chris blurted, surprised at how angry she sounded.

  “Yeah, sorry. Figured you needed help.”

  As a feeling of relief washed over her, she was able to get her thoughts in order. “Where are Emily and O?” she asked.

  “They didn’t come out. I told O to watch the kid.”

  “Thank God.” Chris scanned the trees as she spoke. “But I want you to get back, now. Did you hear the screaming? Our target’s here, and it’s close. Who knows how long your shadow can fend it off.” The thought left a wrenching feeling in her stomach. “Do you still have the force field I put on you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m going to look for the boss, but I need you to be with Emily now. Okay?” Chris knew Nora wouldn’t follow her order, but they didn’t have the time to argue.

  “Okay,” Nora finally echoed before she hung up.

  With that out of the way, Chris’s thoughts raced back to the cabin. To Emily and Peter. Sure, their serial psycho didn’t have a history of attacking people inside houses, but that could change. She scanned her list of contacts again and selected Emily’s name.

 

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