Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1)

by Shannon McKenna

  Theoretically.

  She’d never actually done it, since GodsEye equipment cost in the millions. She might well be committing suicide. But there were worse ways to go.

  There were five images in the training sequence. The GodsEye’s recommendation for a permanent combination was ten images. One, a snowy field with a knobbed and ancient oak tree in the middle. Two, a red half open rose. Three, a school of silvery tropical fish. Four, an eagle diving for its prey. Five, a mushroom cloud.

  She blasted emotional energy into the last image. Her terror, her crushed hopes, her love for Noah, goosing that witch-hat brainwave spike up, up, up, off the chart—

  Boom.

  The blast wave flung her halfway across the room. When she struggled up to look, Mark was sitting up too, his face blackened and bloodied. His expression was empty with shock, which quickly turned to fury. He got up, swaying, and stared at the safe, which now hung open. Stinking black smoke billowed out of it.

  Whatever had been inside it was nothing but ash and cinders now.

  “You lying bitch,” he said hoarsely. “I will rip your heart out for that!” He reached for her, hauling her to her feet.

  “No, you won’t.” A voice from the door. Something flashed through the air—

  Mark shouted hoarsely. He twisted, and pulled a long shard of bloodied glass out of his shoulder. Noah barrelled at him, from across the room. Barefoot. Nearly naked.

  Mark flung her away. The two men charged each other with a guttural roar.

  Caro hit the floor. Something massive landed on top of her. The woman slave soldier shifted on Caro, pinning her. She could barely breathe. She heard thuds, grunts, chunks of falling plaster and primal howls, but all she could see were billowing clouds of plaster dust.

  She heaved and bucked, finally shoving off the slave soldier, who suddenly relinquished her grip. The woman stared at the two men fighting, her irises white-rimmed dark brown circles. Her mouth hung open. She’d forgotten that Caro existed.

  Caro shoved sweat-matted hair out of her eyes, and saw Noah flung through the air, crashing high up against the wall with bone-shattering force. Her scream of denial froze in her throat as he fell out of the jagged hole in the plaster and landed in a catlike crouch on his bare feet, spattering bright red blood against the snow-white plaster dust.

  He ran at Mark again.

  Mark met him, slashing low with a knife he’d hidden. Noah blocked the stabs, his moves too swift for her to see. He caught Mark’s knife hand. Mark flipped sideways and out of the hold, landing upright and spinning around. His back kick slammed Noah against the wall, punching him through the plaster and deep into the wall framing.

  Mark seized the end of an old church pew from the furniture heap and hurled the heavy thing like a spear. It smashed through the wall above Noah, and the whole wall collapsed onto him, frame, bricks, plaster. Caro screamed when she saw Mark grab a heavy brass altar lamp for a lethal swing at Noah, still partly trapped under the rubble.

  Noah caught the lamp mid-swing, and jerked Mark off his feet.

  In seconds the men were a grunting, writhing knot. Noah kicked his legs free and flipped over, on top of his assailant. Mark’s legs scrabbled and drummed against the ground, making choking sounds. Caro finally saw why. Noah had the rotten lamp cord wrapped around Mark’s neck.

  Mark clawed at his throat, legs flailing. The stained glass window tinted the clouds of pale, swirling dust a lurid red. The filthy floor was smeared with blood, both Noah’s and the blood and brain tissue of the dead slave soldier next to them.

  Mark reared up, attempting eye contact with his slave soldiers. “Controller . . . commands!” he coughed out. “Commands . . . you! Shoot . . . my enemy!”

  The man lying on top of Asa slowly raised his pistol, taking aim at Noah.

  “Brenner!” Caro yelled. “Don’t do it! Callie needs you! Remember Callie!”

  “Callie?” Brenner’s gaze jerked over to her, startled. “Callie?” Blood trickled from his nostrils. His gun hand sagged, as if he’d forgotten about the weapon.

  Caro looked at the woman slave soldier. Tears streamed down the woman’s sweaty face. Her mouth hung open. She didn’t respond to Mark’s command.

  Her breaths were harsh, gasping rasps of pain.

  Noah would not yield. Mark’s legs slowed, trembled. And finally stopped.

  The silence was absolute.

  Still, Noah maintained his grip with resolute patience, his expression unreadable. Waiting for some signal that only he could perceive.

  Silent moments passed. No one moved, or spoke, or even breathed.

  Finally, Noah let go. He crouched on one knee before his fallen adversary, and slowly rose to his feet. The bloodied cord dangled from his hand like a whip.

  He stood there, a terrifying vision, spotlit in the blazing column of light, like a creature from myth or legend, his massive chest whitened and blood-smeared as if painted for combat. His eyes burned with a hot predator glow as they fastened onto her.

  It had been like watching gods do battle.

  Chapter 34

  Noah’s gaze swept around the room, assessing everyone. Despite her unconscious state, Hannah’s sig showed strong vital energy. Close to waking. Caro seemed fine, though her face was pale and her eyes shimmering with tears.

  “You OK?” he asked. His voice was hoarse and cracked.

  Tears streaked down her face. She wiped them away with grubby hands, nodding quickly.

  Asa had pushed the slave soldier off himself. Strangely, the man offered no resistance at all anymore. He lurched clumsily to the side and sat on his ass, swaying. Blood streamed from his nose. His gun dangled in his hand, evidently forgotten.

  Asa scrambled across the floor, and crouched by Hannah. “She’s blinking,” he said. “I think she’s coming to. Gotta get her pulse. Cut me loose, for Christ’s sake!”

  “She’s all right.” Noah scooped up Mark’s bloodied knife, and snapped through Asa’s restraints. “Her sig looks fine.”

  Asa pressed his fingers to her throat, exhaled slowly, and met his brother’s eyes. His expression was somber.

  “Holy shit, Noah.” His voice was tight, vibrating. “I had no fucking idea.”

  Noah’s jaw clenched. “Yeah, I know. It’s a lot to take in.”

  “Remind me never to piss you off,” Asa said.

  “No point,” Noah told him. “Lost cause.”

  Asa looked at the stupefied soldier, who sat limply, mouth gaping.

  “Dude looks messed up,” he said.

  Noah assessed him, then the female. “Yeah. Both of them are.”

  “Better get their weapons.”

  “Yeah.” It was a good thought. Noah tried to move. He stumbled, almost fell.

  So he just stood and watched as Asa deftly twitched the gun from the limp hand of the male soldier, and then did the same to the woman who had been restraining Caro.

  The female soldier looked lost and confused. Her nose bled heavily, and her eyes were beginning to roll back in her head, her breath coming short and sharp.

  Here it came. Noah braced himself. He’d watched this scene play out many times at Midlands. It was all over for these two. They’d opted for freedom and now they paid the price. He respected them for it, but it still sucked to watch.

  Asa yanked a knife from his boot and cut Caro’s bonds. She pulled the strange metal helmet off her head, and started rubbing her wrists.

  Noah realized, with a jolt, that he had not thought to do that for her. In fact, he had not thought at all. Thick headed lug. Couldn’t seem to think. Or move.

  “Who the hell is Callie?” Asa asked her, as he kneeled at the side of his employee and felt that man’s pulse as well.

  Caro tried to speak, coughed, and tried again. “His two year old daughter,” she said. “I saw a newsclip about them on the Internet. Recognized him.”

  Asa nodded, moving to check his other man who lay near Mark and the dead soldier. Noah noticed th
at Asa’s fingers were dripping blood. He’d taken a bullet to his upper arm. “You’re shot,” he said sharply.

  His brother wiped his hand on his jacket with a shrug. “Not a problem,” he said, as he peered under the unconscious guy’s eyelids with a frown of concentration.

  By that time, the two slave soldiers were in full crisis. The process was swift and horrible, and took less than a minute. They convulsed, gasped, struggled for breath as if drowning in their own blood. Then slowly they went still.

  Asa stared at them, horrified. “What the fuck is wrong with them?”

  “They resisted their programming,” Noah said wearily. “That set off the auto-destruct brain implant. It makes the brain dissolve. Just turns to slop.”

  “Jesus.” Asa looked appalled. “That is some ugly, twisted shit.”

  “Yeah.” He stared bleakly at Mark’s two prototypes, arched in agony on the ground, faces contorted. He’d witnessed that scene too many times to be shocked, but it was still depressing. Knocked him even further underground.

  He was just so fucking tired. He wanted to fall at Caro’s feet, put his head in her lap, close his eyes. Make it all go away.

  But she wasn’t coming to him. And she was giving him that look. Those shocked, scared eyes. Like she was afraid of him. Sickened by what she’d seen.

  Right. Like any sane person would be.

  Noise from the door sent them into guard mode again, but Noah sighed in relief to see first Sisko and then Zade stumble in. They were bruised and bloodied, but both on their feet. That was all that mattered.

  “Situation outside?” he asked.

  “Quiet now,” Sisko said wearily. “There were only two of them out there, but it took us a while. Tough bastards. They almost won.”

  “Both of them are down?”

  “Yeah. Gone.” Sisko sounded unhappy about it. “They fought real hard. Wouldn’t give up. But we finished them.”

  Zade took his headphones off as he walked over to Mark, staring down.

  “Put those back on, you idiot!” Noah snapped. “He’s not dead!”

  “He looks pretty far gone.” Zade crouched down. His hands were clenched into enormous fists, but his voice was carefully casual as he peered into Mark’s face. “How do you want to transport him?”

  “There are dedicated carrying cases out there in his truck,” Noah said. “We should dose him with his own sedative, if we can find some of it. The stuff is potent.”

  “Help me get my men to the van first,” Asa said. “They need medical attention. I have somebody on call. He’s good, and discreet, if any of you need to get checked out.”

  “Nah, we’re good,” Noah said. Mark’s sig still showed the slow, dull pulse of unconsciousness when he checked, so he turned to help lift one of Asa’s guys.

  “Noah!” Caro shrieked.

  Mark’s sig flashed, blinding white like lighting bolt. He jack-knifed to yank a compact pistol from his ankle holster.

  Asa threw himself in front of Noah, shielding his brother as Mark emptied his gun.

  Every bullet made Asa’s body jerk. He crashed to the ground, breaking a rotten chair into splinters on his way down.

  Then three more shots jarred her ears, from a different direction.

  Mark’s head disintegrated.

  “Callie.” The thick, garbled voice of the slave soldier that Caro had called Brenner. He’d dragged himself back to consciousness. Now he slumped to the floor, the Ruger 9mm he’d pulled out falling from his hand, blood streaming from nose, mouth, ears.

  Noah dropped down next to Asa, and touched his brother with a shaking hand.

  Asa’s sig flashed, and his eyes opened. His grin answered his brother’s unspoken question. “Nah. Dragon skin.” He spoke with effort as he thumped his body armor. “This shit works.”

  “You still got hit,” Noah said.

  “No big deal,” Asa rasped. “Only five bullets.”

  Noah’s breath eased. “Fuck you. Stay down.”

  Asa just snorted. Someone was cursing viciously behind him. He turned to look. It was Zade, standing over Mark’s body, his face a mask of grief and fury.

  Noah wished he could get up. “Zade. Listen to me. We’ll find Luke.”

  “Mark was the only one who knew where he was, and his brain is smeared all over the fucking room! Even his slaves are dead! How can we find him now?”

  “Calm down,” Noah said. “We’ll keep at it. And we’ll find him.”

  Zade spun around and punched his fist through the nearest wall, spraying a fresh cloud of plaster powder everywhere.

  Sisko hissed, in sympathy. “Ouch.”

  “Fuck it,” Zade mumbled. “It’s only my left hand. Feels good. For a couple of seconds, anyhow.”

  Sisko flung his arm around Zade’s shoulders. “Let’s get Hannah to your place. Then we park Mark’s truck in your garage and get blind drunk somewhere.”

  “Do not draw attention to yourselves,” Noah said, out of force of habit.

  “Piss off, Grandpa,” Sisko retorted.

  Hannah was sitting up now. Caro made encouraging murmurs as she helped his younger sister onto her feet. Hannah staggered drunkenly, but her sig still looked steady. Pallid and raggedy, but already getting stronger.

  Hannah swept the room with her bleary gaze. Her eyes went back to Asa after she’d accounted for them all. “You got shot?” she demanded. “I heard gunfire.”

  “I’m OK,” Asa said. “Wore body armor. Just bruises.”

  “Bruises,” Hannah repeated suspiciously, seeing the blood on his face. She saw the bodies of the slave soldiers, and turned sharply away. “Oh, God. I gotta get out of here right now.” She lurched forward.

  Caro caught her before she fell. “Wait. I’ll help you. Hang onto me.”

  Noah watched uneasily as the two women made their careful way out of the room. He knew that he could trust Sisko and Zade’s assessment of the danger level outdoors, but he still disliked having either of them out of his sight.

  He tried to help Asa up. His brother shook off his hand. “I’m fine.”

  “Like hell, dragon boy,” Noah said. “Probably cracked some ribs.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.” Asa’s breathing was labored.

  “You need a doctor, too,” Noah said.

  Asa grunted impatiently. “My men need one more.”

  Noah looked around the room. Dust hung in the air, blurring the smeared and spattered blood, the sprawled bodies. “How are we going to clean this mess up?”

  “I can send a clean-up team,” Asa said. “Crime scene techs. Very competent.”

  “The ones that come in after detectives and coroners are done? Don’t think so.”

  “They’re not affiliated with law enforcement,” Asa said calmly. “Private cases only. Discretion assured. Expensive as all fuck.”

  “I’m rich, you’re rich,” Noah said. “Do it. But I don’t want the slave soldiers wrapped in plastic and thrown in a muddy hole. Those two did the impossible. They’re heroes.”

  “They’ll be handled with respect. I’ll get you their ashes to spread. Will somebody help me get my men out to the van? Or do I have to hold you guys at gunpoint to get that done?”

  Sisko and Zade obliged. Fortunately for Noah, since his body did not respond to his brain’s commands. He stood there, empty and hollow. Alone with the corpses.

  Caro came back after a few minutes, and found him there. She took his arm and towed him around the cadavers, through the rotting, crumbling house, circling around garbage and tumbled bricks. He left a trail of bloody prints in the dust behind him.

  Then she drew him out in to the cold, sweet air of a new day.

  Chapter 35

  He was so beautiful, it broke her heart. Even ghostly white with plaster dust and smeared with blood. She’d never seen that look on his face. Raw, open and unguarded. The sapling firs that had grown up around the front entrance bent and swayed in the gusts of raw wind. He had to be so cold, we
aring nothing but those stretchy boxers.

  Then she clutched his arm to steady him on the broken, uneven steps, and realized that he wasn’t cold in the least. He radiated roaring, bonfire heat.

  Asa’s van braked abruptly in front of them. His window hummed down.

  “I’ll be in touch about the confession,” Asa said. “Give me a day or so.”

  Caro looked at him blankly. “Huh?”

  Asa’s voice was impatient. “For the police, remember? Four different vantage points, audio and video. We both heard Mark say loud and clear that he killed Dex Boyd. And Tim Wheaton. Now the police can hear him say it, too. Didn’t you want to clear your name? Wasn’t that a thing for you?”

  “I forgot all about it,” she said. “In all the excitement.”

  “Lucky for you, I didn’t,” Asa said. “Anyway, do what you want with it. I imagine you don’t want the cops to see everything on it, especially that weird shit with the slave soldiers, but you guys can work that out for yourselves. I’m gone.”

  The van surged forward. The red taillights retreated into the dripping greenery.

  Zade’s van pulled out next. She glimpsed Hannah’s pale, exhausted face in the window of the passenger seat as they exchanged weary waves. Then Mark’s big truck rolled away, driven by Sisko.

  “Do you have a vehicle here?” she asked Noah.

  He squinted against the light. “No,” he said. “We came with Sisko and Zade. And they all just left.”

  They gazed after the disappearing taillights, and Caro began to laugh. “Oh, man,” she said. “That is funny. We do battle with the forces of evil, avoid death by a hair, ransom our lives back from the pits of hell . . . and forget to arrange a ride home.”

  “My fault.”

  “Don’t apologize,” she said quickly, before he could. “Why is it your job to think of everything?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Because it is?”

  “Not anymore. Welcome to the new world order.” She tugged his arm. “The emergency getaway car you guys hid for me is thataway.” She pointed. “I’d say maybe less than a mile if we cut straight through the woods.”