She’d been given things to watch and books to read, but she wasn’t allowed to actually interact with others, aside from two scientists, and only then if she was blindfolded.
They used robots and later androids, primitive ones, to communicate with her. Her best friend growing up was an Android from Japan that could do little more than answer simple questions and do funny dances. Because of this robot, I found out, she spoke Japanese.
While in solitary confinement, Grace had been observed by dozens of security cameras set up in clusters in the corners. There was also a room with one-way mirrors that she would be taken to every week.
This was what made her so different from Veronique, who seemed to have more interaction with people and was allowed to go out once she became older.
“It’s so terrible,” I said as I felt what it must have been like to be sheltered from the world for so long. She wasn’t starved or anything, and no one had ever done anything to harm her; she was simply kept in utter isolation.
It was a wonder this government lab didn’t raise a feral human being.
If it hadn’t been for her constant media consumption, she would have been fucked in the head. I mean she was already slightly fucked in the head, but she was sweet, and she generally seemed to mean well.
The media consumption also helped her with her shifter abilities. The scientists had made sure her voice remained the same no matter what form she took. This was so she couldn’t confuse them, and it was also why the setting was so low when I first examined her.
Everything was starting to make sense.
“How did you escape?” I whispered. “How did you end up at my doorstep?”
Those images came to me as well, swirling around my mind as if they were a flock of birds being stalked by an eagle.
Grace had planned her escape for over a year.
She didn’t have much contact with anyone, aside from a pair of scientists. These scientists would speak to her every couple of days, together, and they made sure she was blindfolded, wore a helmet with the visor blacked out, and that her hands were shackled. A robot did the shackling.
I intuited most of these things through the transfer of her memory. Because her eyes were shut, she couldn’t see what the two scientists looked like, but as our minds are prone to do when only given a portion of the details, hers quickly filled in the rest.
One of the scientists had a weaker will than the other, this she was sure of.
The cuffs they made her wear weren’t tight, and she could move around; they were mainly given to prevent her from touching someone and understanding their memories, which would have allowed her to manipulate them.
So this became her next mission: get them to remove the cuffs.
After several months of very soft complaining, she finally got the two scientists to meet her without the cuffs.
She was clever enough not to ever move in a way that seemed aggressive or confrontational, and she kept this act up for three months, uncuffed in a room with the two scientists.
The scientists continued to grow more casual around her, especially the one she’d sensed was weak, and it was on a dark and stormy night that she finally made her move.
As the first scientist took his seat, Grace dove toward him, still completely blindfolded. She missed his body entirely but was able to grab onto his ankle, and from there slid her hand up his pant leg and touched his skin.
The rest was history.
The scientist turned to his counterpart and beat the living hell out of him. After that, the possessed man helped Grace up and removed her visor and blindfold.
This was an especially powerful moment for her, when the dark turned to light and she could put a face to the man’s voice. What a strange feeling that must have been.
Why were you naked when you came to my door? I thought.
The answer came almost before I could get the question out.
Grace was usually naked at the facility because of the fact that she could form her own clothing. And, as she became aware that the planned escape was going in her favor, she quickly morphed into the scientist’s counterpart.
She told him to take her to his car.
She had no idea where to have him take her, and they were circling through Wooster Square to get to the highway when she momentarily lost her grip on his psyche.
In that instant, he verbally told his car to call work and tell them Grace had escaped. It only took her a second after that to regain control over him again. But rather than have him drive her any longer – knowing they’d be looking for her – she made him pull over.
Grace then wiped his thoughts and told him to drive to as far away as possible.
Being free, and in a place she didn’t recognize, was utterly terrifying. She lost it then and started screaming for help, which caused her to again lose focus and return to her base, naked form. This explained why she was nude when I met her, and it also explained why she wouldn’t let me phone the police.
“So, that’s your story,” I said as she finished showing me.
“Yes.”
“I don’t know why you came to me, but I’ll do my best to make it right.” I sat up and looked at her. She moved a bit closer to kiss me. The hair on my neck stood at attention as I thought about Veronique in the other room.
“Later, I need to work now.”
Chapter Eighteen: Heavy Metal Orchestra
Me: Luke, the story is just getting crazier and crazier.
Luke: Where you at wordcount-wise?
Me: I’ve been going at it since about eleven, and I’m passing the twenty-three thousand mark. I got a whole new release strategy involved, a serial of sorts.
Luke: Serials seem to be pretty hit or miss.
Me: True, but with the story I have, and its implications, I need to put it out there in concentrated doses. Having more of a reach through multiple releases may help with that, but it’s too early to be sure.
Luke: So, what’s happening in the story then? Did you get some action in?
Me: Action is coming, right now I’m working on the build-up to an action scene. My three protagonists are going to destroy the secret government facility that created the two superpowered women.
Luke: Do you have an antagonist yet?
Me: Not really, aside from an ambiguous government operation and a security company called MercSecure.
Luke: Well, you’ll need someone, maybe an evil professor or something, or a badass, superpowered hombre.
Me: Canadians use the word ‘hombre?’
Luke: Lol. They do now! Have you added more game elements yet? I’ll take a look at them if you’d like me to.
Me: Readers that like a lot of stats won’t be into it, but maybe they’ll like the story. There are stats though, and I’ve figured out a way to adjust them. Let me rephrase: my MC didn’t know how to adjust them before, and he still has Veronique, the dangerous one, to work on and modify a bit.
Luke: And is the harem in full effect?
Me: Well, in a way, but the MC isn’t … That’s not his MO, although it looks like it could move into a polyamorous situation. Hopefully. Who doesn’t want to get laid by powerful women?
Luke: Lol. Hopefully? What do you mean hopefully? You’re the writer!
Me: These characters have long since taken over, I’m just letting them write their own story now.
As if to prove my point, the front door to our room splintered opened and two smoke grenades tumbled inside.
“Get down!” Veronique screamed at us. The smoke grenades went off, followed by a flashbang.
I heard whooshing sounds as metal seared through the air toward the open door.
I couldn’t see it, but I could hear all the metal in the front room being torn from the walls, the television, the light fixtures, and the door. That noise was followed by the sound of screaming men.
Smoke billowed into the second room.
With my laptop now under my arm, I grabbed Grace’s hand and asked, “Do you think yo
u can lower us to the ground? We’ll get out of this, dammit, just focus!”
Just seeing my determined face brought a sense of calm to her. Her eyebrows lowered.
“Get your things,” she said, “Veronique and I will handle this.”
Unable to see the security detail, Grace’s only option was to use her recently improved psychokinetic abilities. She lifted her hands, and as she did, the walls next to the door collapsed inward. I heard more crunching sounds as the walls in the hallway, and portions of the floor began to crack.
Veronique skidded into our room, her hand over her mouth.
“You can do that now?” she asked.
“Yep, we need to get out of here!” I answered for Grace.
With the smoke starting to billow all around us, there was only one way out. I pointed to the window. Grace nodded, and as she tightened her fist, the window blew out.
And that was when we saw the fucking helicopter approaching the hotel.
“We have to jump!” I told both of them, my nerves on fire, my lungs burning, the smoke from the grenades searing my eyes.
The helicopter, its blades beating loudly, got into position. I hit the deck as bullets ricocheted into the room.
That was it, we were dead. I knew it was over, and I felt ashamed at how poorly it had ended.
But only a few of the bullets managed to reach the far side of the room. The rest stopped mid-air, Veronique’s metal wielding power at full capacity.
I watched from my covered position on the floor as the bullets turned back to the helicopter.
“Oh shit!” I whisper-screamed.
A direct headshot into the pilot sent the helicopter crashing against the side of the hotel, its propellers whipping at the window a few doors down and causing a small explosion which rained debris down on the streets below.
“I need more energy!” Veronique was now on one knee, panting.
I put one hand on Grace’s shoulder and stared deeply into her ice blue eyes. “Grace, you’re our only hope of getting out of here,” I told her through clenched teeth. “Please, focus – you can do this!”
Her eyes flashed white, and as she stared at me defiantly, all three of us lifted into the air. I barely managed to grab my duffle bag before we floated over to the blown-out window.
As we reached the window, one of the security personnel shouldered into the room with his weapon drawn. As soon as he saw Grace he turned the weapon on himself, sticking it in his mouth and ending it right there.
“Feed, Veronique!” I called to her, and sensing what I meant, she used her metal ability to drag the soldier closer to her.
Her hand came over what was left of his face. It flashed red, and the man’s body began shriveling.
“Are you ready, Grace!?” I shouted.
“Let me get us halfway there,” Veronique said. The red power around her fingertips dissipated and color returned to her face.
The floor shook as metal peeled from the building’s exterior. The bars of metal twisted in the air outside, forming a primitive staircase.
Grace floated us out the window and set our bodies on the first metal ‘stair’ that Veronique had created.
The world spun around me as we started moving downward, gravity pulling at us, Yours Truly scared beyond shitless.
Looking back, I think the only thing that kept me from falling over was Grace’s ability. There was simply no way a guy like me could run down a makeshift staircase made from building materials as a goddamn Apache helicopter approached us from a distance.
“We’ve got to get to the BMW!” I yelled wildly, which sounded way cooler in retrospect than it did coming out of my mouth as a pansied shriek.
The Apache moved closer to us, its blades slicing through the air.
Veronique swiped one arm behind her and all the stair pieces we’d already stepped on flew like spears toward the helicopter.
The adrenaline surging through me by this point would have been hard to measure. I started feeling faint, and just before I could fall over the side, Grace lifted me in the air and we lowered the rest of the way to the ground.
We landed and started running. I heard sirens … far away but drawing closer. And another helicopter. It was like something out of a Jerry Bruckheimer film.
We weren’t far from the concierge lot when I suddenly remembered that the valet had the keys.
“Grace, keys!” I shouted.
Luckily, the valet was huddled behind his little booth, his hands over his head.
As soon as Grace saw him, he stood up, found our keys, and tossed them to me. No, I didn’t have the skill set at that point to catch the keys mid-air, especially with what was going on all around me.
But I had Veronique.
The keys flew into her hand and we dashed down into the winding concierge parking lot.
“Where’s our car, where’s our car, where’s our car?” I mumbled as we ran. I’d never run so fast in my life. It was amazing what a man could do when he had a covert government agency on his ass!
But I’d be winded soon, I could tell, and I was happy as shit when Grace reached out and touched my keys, instantly recalling where the car was parked.
One minute later, we found the beamer. I jumped into the driver’s seat, Veronique in the back and Grace at my side.
We tore out of the parking lot, and just as we got to street level, a black SUV with a siren in the window drove onto the scene. It was followed by three more black SUVs and a fucking black Humvee.
The high-speed chase had begun.
“Grace, distract the SUVs!”
I pressed the button on the center panel that brought the top down and looked in the rearview mirror at Veronique, who was already turned around, plotting her next move. “Veronique, take out anyone you can and don’t let any of those bullets get to us! Bullets, focus on the bullets!”
She simply nodded without looking back at me.
With my foot on the gas pedal, and my hair whipping in the wind, I swerved around the cars waiting to get onto the highway.
The BMW was fast, and I wasn’t the best driver, but I’d played a lot of the first person driving video games. Which really shouldn’t count for anything, but I reminded myself of my video game background just for the sake of courage.
Swerving around a red Toyota Corolla, we took the on-ramp to the highway.
As soon as Grace turned and saw the face of a shocked driver, she forced him to lurch right, cutting off one of the SUVs behind us and causing a collision. The other SUVs and the Humvee narrowly avoided this distraction, but they didn’t avoid Veronique’s next attack.
With her hand raised ever so slightly, she stripped two of the SUVs of their lug nuts. The tires flew off the vehicles, leaving nothing but their frames to scrape against the asphalt as they skidded along the highway.
Sparks flew behind me; it looked like the damn Fourth of July kicking off in my rearview mirror. A barrage of horns, vehicles screeching to a halt, and people shouting. Heavy metal orchestra.
We needed to escape.
But before I got on the phone to Walter White, I had to ditch the BMW. The fact that there were now two helicopters on our asses, and more black SUVs likely to follow, meant it would be easier said than done.
As we sped along I-95 north toward New Haven, reaching speed limits of up to a hundred miles per hour, our next move came to me in a flash.
I knew there was a gas station truck stop about a mile up. We’d take the off-ramp, hit the gas station – well not literally hit it, but get close to hitting it – ditch the beamer, get in an eighteen-wheeler and have Grace take over from there.
It would be very difficult, especially with the helicopters, but those …
I hated to think of it this way, but those could be dealt with.
“Veronique!” I called over the roar of the wind and the sounds of the other vehicles. “Try to take out one of those helicopters!”
I watched in the rearview mirror as Veronique looked
for things she could fling at the helicopters. They were still pretty far away, and they would need to get closer for us to be able to do anything. What was more, our exit was looming in the distance.
A new idea came to me. “Grace, cause some type of pile up to prevent any more SUVs from following us. We can take out the helicopters at the gas station if we need to.”
“Will do.”
Grace unbuckled her seatbelt, turned around and got on her knees, her front body pressed against the seat back. She could now see the other drivers around us, and as she looked at each of them, they started slowing down and forming a long, horizontal line.
Any driver she saw came under her spell and got into the line, which would at least give the SUVs trouble.
Now for the helicopters.
We pulled into the gas station and I saw the eighteen-wheeler I wanted to hijack. The driver was just getting in, and the vehicle was aimed at the highway.
“That’s our new ride.” We got out of the car. I grabbed my duffle bag and gave it to the psychic. “Grace, go get that driver under your control. Veronique, let’s do something about those helicopters.”
The helicopters were now above the off-ramp, closing in on us. This was a bad move on their part, because the closer they got to us, the easier it was for Veronique to take them out.
With her hands at her side, palms up, Veronique lifted one of the medium-sized metal gas tank lids off the ground with her power.
As if it were a frisbee, she hurled the yellow lid at the first helicopter.
It shattered the window and decapitated the pilot, causing the helicopter to crash in a massive explosion. This was followed by more screams, cars screeching on the highway, and people all around us panicking.
“Hurry!” I told Veronique.
The other helicopter began to push away, only to receive the same treatment, this time with the metal lid taking off the rotor mast. Gravity dragged the second helicopter’s tail rotor under and the craft went belly up, smashing into a highway barrier.
By this point, we were in the cab of the eighteen-wheeler, and Grace had the driver under her control. Even as people flipped their shit all around us, we were able to get back on the highway with New Haven as our destination.
Cherry Blossom Girls Box Set Page 13