The Girl in the Box Series, Books 1-3: Alone, Untouched and Soulless

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The Girl in the Box Series, Books 1-3: Alone, Untouched and Soulless Page 5

by Robert J. Crane


  Five

  The snow stretched across the horizon. The Directorate facility was isolated and surrounded by rolling fields bordered by forests. The woods had evergreen trees as well as the seasonal ones that had lost their leaves. The winter had left the grounds settled under a couple feet of snow.

  I sat on a bench behind the dormitory building. The Directorate campus was huge, dozens of buildings strung together by a web of interconnected paths that had been plowed and salted. After being shown to my room, I explored the closet and grabbed the heavy coat and gloves they had left and headed outside. After all, I had not spent any time outdoors in several years, and I took this, my first opportunity, to really look at and feel the snow.

  I smiled as the wind swept over me, stinging my cheeks and chilling my nose. I felt the cold creeping between my toes in the thin boots I wore. The air was fresh; fresher than anything I could recall ever smelling, with just a hint of smoke from somewhere in the distance. I couldn’t hear anything but the blowing of the wind. It was enough to make me forget that I couldn’t go home and that even if I did, Mom wasn’t there.

  A memory sparked to mind, of us downstairs. Our house was old, with a basement that had concrete block walls, and pipes hanging everywhere. Mom had turned the largest part of it into a workout room, with mats on the floor for practicing martial arts. She had weapons hanging on the wall, and every day we’d practice for a few hours. She was good; she taught me everything I know.

  And now she’s gone.

  I heard the footfalls behind me and turned. It was Oldie, Kurt Hannegan and his younger partner, Hottie. Zack, I remembered Ariadne calling him. They were both wearing their dark suits with black ties and looking solemn. In the light I could see them a little better. Kurt’s nose was swollen from where I had hit him. Looking at Zack reaffirmed my suspicion that he was not hard on the eyes, and had sandy blond hair and a tanned face.

  I had already gotten a look at Kurt when he was coming at me in the house. Big around the midsection, the waistband of his pants sticking out to wrap around his outstretched belly, giving him the look of a penguin. His face bore the scars of a long-ago bout with acne, and the little hair that remained on top of his head was thin and combed over from the bushy brambles that wrapped the sides of his skull. If he could wear a fedora, his baldness might be passable.

  They both lurked just out of arm’s reach. Zack looked at me and smiled, far more warmly than I deserved since a day ago I had hit him in the groin so hard I was surprised he was still walking. I felt a little tingle and looked away, straight at Kurt. Oldie glared, giving me a wary look you might reserve for a criminal offender.

  “Nice to see you boys are up and walking,” I said with a sarcasm that I couldn’t get rid of, no matter how hard I tried. All right, I’ll admit it – I didn’t try very hard. But at least in Zack’s case, I felt bad about it.

  Zack spoke first, looking back at Kurt, almost for reassurance. “Yeah, you pack a mean punch with that baton.” His eyes were brown, but I saw some humor in them. The forgiving sort? I pegged him for a sucker. One day out in the big, bad world and I could already spot them.

  “Yeah, she’s a real champ in the dark with a baton,” Kurt shot back. “Step into the ring and lace up a pair of boxing gloves and we’ll see what kind of fighter she is.”

  I smiled at him, a kind of dazzling, annoying, faux smile that probably set off his bullshit detector. He wasn’t a sucker. “It wouldn’t matter if it were drunken boxing, muay thai, kickboxing or just straight up, ‘Marquess of Queensbury rules’, because I could flatten your fat ass with any of those styles.” I turned my head away to hide my smile but listened for footsteps in case he took umbrage and tried to sucker punch me. Even if he did, I would have bet I could still beat his ass.

  Kurt’s snort of indignation was drowned out by a chuckle and low whistle from Zack. The big man recovered. “I don’t beat up little girls.”

  “You certainly don’t succeed at it, but you try – and when that doesn’t work out, you shoot at them until they take your gun away.” I turned back in time to watch his face contort at my goad. My faux smile had turned real, an impish grin rooted in my deep amusement at twisting his tail. His little piggy tail.

  Zack laughed again, a wheezing cackle that made him stoop to slap a knee. Kurt’s face was ashen. “They don’t pay me enough to deal with your meta crap. They should have sent M-Squad after you; I’m not a retriever—”

  I smiled at him. “You should add that to the list of things you’re not – a retriever, thin, a good shot, attractive, young, virile—”

  He turned and stormed off in a perfect impression of countless divas I’d seen on TV over the years. I saluted his back as he walked down the path. “Don’t forget ‘possessed of a sense of humor’ or ‘gracious loser’!” He threw up a finger behind him as he continued his walk. “Oh! And ‘witty’! You’re not witty!”

  “Damn,” Zack said in mild consternation as he watched Kurt walk away. “I’m gonna have to soothe his wounded pride later.” He turned back to me. “You really do pack a mean punch. Sienna, right?”

  My smile went from mean-spirited to as pleasant as I could muster and I wasn’t quite sure why. I guess there was no point in being wicked to everyone, especially not when Zack was trying to be nice. Besides, I’d already proven I could drop him to the ground if need be. “That’s right. Sienna Nealon. You’re Zack…?”

  “Davis.” He smiled. “You taken a tour of the grounds yet?”

  I shook my head. “Saw the dormitory and the big building over there—” I waved in the direction that Kurt was heading—“that I woke up in.”

  “Yeah, that’s our headquarters. But there’s other stuff, too, like a gym, a garage and a firing range.”

  “A gym?” I cocked an eyebrow at that. The desire to work out was stronger than I would have guessed. I’d gone the week since Mom left without following the routine.

  He shook his head, eyes wide. “I guess I shouldn’t be amazed, but I kind of am. We brought you in less than twenty-four hours ago and I had to hold a jacket around your neck to keep you from bleeding to death. And now you’re fine and looking for a place to work out.” He pointed down a path and started walking. I fell into step beside him.

  “You’re not meta-human?”

  He shook his head. “Just a normal guy. I work with them a lot, like M-Squad – they’re all metas, and normally they’d be the ones that would have come to get you, not Kurt and me, but they’re down in South America doing…something.”

  “Ooh, ominous.”

  He laughed. “Not supposed to be. They’re probably bringing in another meta, but I’m not exactly in the loop, so I don’t know for sure. That’s what they do though; bring in new metas that we identify, or bring down ones that are causing trouble.”

  I eyed him. “And what I did yesterday, would that fit your definition of ‘causing trouble?’“

  He laughed again. “Nah, I would’ve fought back too if strangers broke into my house. We were supposed to bring you in quiet, and you metas don’t typically do anything quiet if it’s against your will. Kurt told ‘em that, but Old Man Winter said to tranq you and be done with it.”

  I stopped walking. “Old Man Winter?”

  He stopped and his tanned face adopted a pinched “I-shouldn’t-have-said-that” look. “Ahh, I mean…damn. The boss.”

  “I thought Ariadne was the boss?”

  He shook his head. “Ariadne’s in charge, mostly, but she’s not the big cheese. Old Man Winter…we call him that because…you know, some people say ‘The Old Man’ and he’s kinda up there in the years, but he’s…I dunno, cold. Like he never shows emotion. Never smiles, never gets angry.”

  “So you call him Old Man Winter. He got a name?”

  “Erich Winter.”

  I laughed. “That explains it.”

  “Yeah. He’s a good boss, just…”

  “Cold.”

  “Right.”

&nb
sp; “So how long have you been with the Directorate?” I cast a sidelong glance at him as we walked. Ahead of us loomed a building that matched every other in the complex. Gray concrete walls, squat and blocky with a section that extended well above the rest of the building. Glass doors marked the entryway, but like all the others I had seen, it was unlabeled.

  “Couple years. They got me coming out of the U of M.”

  “University of Minnesota?”

  “Yeah. You gotta be close to college age. Were you thinking about going?”

  I laughed. “You know my background, right?” He nodded. “Mom wasn’t big on the idea of me leaving the house. Ever. Said it was dangerous.”

  His face turned serious. “She was right, you know. She kept you quiet all these years; now it’s a rush to get ahold of you. Wolfe and whoever he works for – they’re rounding up every meta they can lay hands on – and if Sierra Nealon’s daughter is in play, it was going to be a mad dash to get to you first.”

  “What about the guy who saved me from you?” I looked at him as I asked the question, trying to see if he was as bad a liar as Ariadne. “His name was Reed. Do you know him?”

  He shook his head with perfect sincerity. “I hadn’t seen him before, but this isn’t just a two-sided game. There’s a lot of factions out there trying to get metas on their side.”

  “How did you know where to find me?” I eyed him and gave him a little smile. So this is what it’s like to play a man. Kinda easy.

  “I just go where I’m told.” His smile was knowing. Damn. Maybe it’s not so easy. “So, are you going to let Ariadne run her tests?” His voice quavered a little bit and I knew that it wasn’t him asking this question.

  I sighed, mostly for effect. Maybe it was because I’d never had the company of a man anytime in memory, but I was enjoying myself so much I almost forgot that I didn’t have any friends, just a suspicious number of desirous and questionable “allies.” “Maybe,” I replied. “I’m still thinking about it.”

  “Tough choice, I guess.” He sounded sincere. Maybe he was. “Your whole world gets turned upside down and you’re left without anyone to rely on. Gotta figure out who’s telling the truth.”

  I flashed him a tight smile, and I felt my heart beat faster than it should have after such a short walk. “Or figure out if nobody’s telling the truth. You all have fantastic stories of meta-humans with amazing abilities, but so far the closest thing I’ve seen to the truth of that is a grubby mountain of a man that looks like he could have stumbled out of a pack of wolves.”

  Zack grinned. “It does sound kind of crazy.”

  “You’re all saying that there are people with superpowers, and that I have one but no one can tell me what it is unless you ‘test me.’“ I rolled my eyes. “Forgive me for not jumping to sign up for that medical experiment.”

  His smile faded. “But…you realize how strong you are compared to a normal human, right?” He stopped as we neared the entrance to the gymnasium. “You realize how much more powerful you are?”

  I started to suppress my instinctive reply but I was a half second too slow. “I don’t know what to think. I don’t know where to go. And I have no idea who to trust.” And I don’t have idea why I told him that.

  He kept his distance and his hands slid into his pockets. I almost felt like he was doing it to avoid patting me on the shoulder or something. He took a step back to the concrete bench sitting in the shadow of the entry and did a double take as he looked down at it. “I can’t help you fix all those problems. But maybe I can give you one answer.” He pointed to the bench. “See this?”

  “I may be meta-human, but I’m not blind.”

  His face twisted with a touch of condescension. “Nobody but Ariadne and Old Man Winter call them meta-humans. M-Squad just says ‘metas’ and it’s kinda stuck for everybody.” He leaned down and tried to push the bench. “It’s a few hundred pounds, easy.” His eyes glimmered with mischief. “Why don’t you try lifting it?”

  My stomach made a noise and I hoped only I could hear it. I walked over to him and studied the bench. It was concrete, with a nice pattern around the legs to give it some aesthetics. And Zack was right: it looked like it weighed quite a bit.

  I reached down and grabbed hold by the edges. I cringed and counted down from three in my head and lifted with everything I had.

  It flew off the ground and swung up, almost popping me in the mouth before I stopped it. I could feel the weight of it, but it wasn’t that significant. I swung it around and hoisted it over my shoulder, holding it with one hand. “Wow.”

  “You never lifted anything like this before? Never tested your strength?” Zack kept his distance. I think he saw me lift it a little too aggressively and assumed (rightly) that I may be able to lift it, but I couldn’t necessarily control it.

  I shrugged, almost dropping the bench from my shoulder. I caught it and laughed. “What in our house would I have lifted?” I worked to keep a smile plastered on my face in spite of a sudden disquiet within as a memory of my hand pounding against metal, drawing blood, flashed through my mind.

  “Odds are that your powers didn’t manifest until recently anyway,” he said with a shrug. “You might not have been able to do this a month ago. Metas I’ve talked to say it onsets over a few weeks or months…you just start getting faster, stronger, more agile than you used to be.” My eyes glazed over for a moment as another memory floated to the top of mind. Zack looked at me with a quizzical expression. “What?”

  I blinked. This one wasn’t so bad. “A couple weeks ago, Mom and I were in the basement, sparring like usual. We trained martial arts a couple hours a day, and I’ve never been able to lay a hand on her. She’s super fast, like a blur, and she always dodges. Always encouraging, you know – ‘Keep it up, that’s good, you came close there…’. But that time, a couple weeks ago, I thought she was a little slow and I dodged one of her kicks and tagged her in the ribs.”

  Zack nodded. “Ariadne and Old Man Winter said your mother was one of the most powerful metas in her generation. That’s pretty good if you got a hand on her like that.”

  “Yeah…” I gazed off into the distance.

  “What is it?” His brown eyes were rimmed with concern. Not an act, I think.

  My eyes snapped back into focus and landed on him before I flicked my gaze away again. “Nothing…well…after I hit Mom, I was all flushed with victory. I took a step back; point scored, you know…formalities of sparring. I dropped my guard when I went back to my ready stance. She didn’t even hesitate – she planted one on my jaw that knocked me off my feet and blurred my vision.”

  Zack physically recoiled and his eyes got wide. “That…that’s horrible.”

  I felt the wind run through me and clamp down on my heart, pushing it into my throat. “No, it was good.” I wiped any trace of emotion from my face. “She was trying to teach me not to ever let my guard down because it can cost you.” The pain in my chest swelled as I pictured Mom’s expression after she struck me down – fire blazing in her eyes; that look of spite and revenge all rolled into one as she looked down on me.

  My mind raced, trying to think of something to ask Zack to change the subject. “You said my mom was one of the most powerful metas in her generation? So not all metas are the same, power-wise?”

  “Yeah, there’s a scale – some metas are stronger than others.” He looked up at the bench still balanced on my shoulder. “That’s why Ariadne wants to test you. Even without knowing what your other powers are, knowing your strength could give some insight into what kind of meta you are.”

  “Hm.” I whipped the bench as if to smash it against the ground and noted the panicked look in Zack’s eyes as he flinched and brought his hands in front of his face. I stopped it a few inches from the walk and gingerly placed it back where it had started and shot him a dazzling smile. “Fraidy cat.”

  He looked at me, eyes wide. “I couldn’t tell you without testing, but seeing the way you h
andled that bench, I think you’re right up there with your mom on the meta power scale.”

  I looked down. “I don’t know about that. I fought back against Wolfe and he shook off my attacks and grabbed me like I was nothing.”

  “Yeah, but Wolfe is a freak of nature. Most metas don’t live for thousands of years. He has.”

  “I don’t doubt that, but he manhandled me. His strength was incredible; I couldn’t fight back at all.” I felt the bile rise in my mouth as I said that. Mom had always dominated me, but she’d never completely crushed me the way Wolfe had. It made me sick – and angry.

  “He’s THE top of the scale for power and he has millenia of experience fighting. He’d give M-Squad a run for their money, and they’re all way up on the scale, and there’s four of them.” He shook his head. “I want you to promise me something.”

  I looked up at him and felt a tremble. “What?”

  “You ever run across Wolfe again, do what the rest of us do – run like hell. He’s a beast. And he will kill you.”

 

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