Heir to the Nightmare

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Heir to the Nightmare Page 16

by J. J. Carlson


  Faint footsteps echoed in the hallway, gradually growing louder until two shadows appeared in the slot of light. She plastered a coy grin on her face and squinted as the door slid open.

  Eugene stood in the doorway, aiming an MP7 at her abdomen. His eyes were locked on her face, betraying no interest in her naked form.

  After several excruciating seconds, he simply shrugged and said, “Another week should do it,” then he took a wide step back.

  The door closed, and Audrey’s mind shattered like glass. She rushed forward and pounded her fists against the door, screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs.

  The footsteps retreated until they faded beyond earshot. Then, to her horror, the world went black.

  As the hallway lights went out behind Eugene, he felt a pang of sympathy for Audrey. She deserved every bit of torture, imprisonment, and mind games he could throw at her, but he took no pleasure from her pain. If there weren’t thousands or perhaps millions of lives at stake, he would never have considered locking her in the tiny room. Putting a bullet in her brain, yes, but not torturing her.

  He paused in the hallway and typed a six-digit code into a keypad. The steel door in front of him slid open, and Jarrod and Felicity glanced up from the center of the room.

  “Hey, Mr. Carver,” Felicity said. She pointed a pen at Jarrod. “I was just discussing the mission with our friend, here.”

  Jarrod stared out the doorway and tilted his head. “Your decision to keep the prisoner in isolation has had a traumatic psychological impact.”

  Eugene shook his head. “I’m not really going to leave her in there another week. We can’t wait that long to get at the secrets in her head.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll pull her out in about ten hours, and we’ll start the next phase of screwing with her head.”

  Jarrod gave a single nod. “I will be ready.”

  Felicity had turned her attention back to her notepad. She set her pen down and discreetly massaged her lower abdomen.

  Eugene saw the motion out of the corner of his eye and turned toward her. “You okay?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “This building is full of doctors. If you’re feeling sick—”

  “No, it’s not like that.” She blushed and kept her gaze fixed on the notepad. “It’s just…that time of the month. Nothing serious.”

  Eugene frowned. “Right. Sorry.” He took a deep breath and blew out his cheeks. “It’s been a very long day. I’m going to head home for a few hours and get some sleep. I’ll see you two in the morning.”

  He backed into the hallway and pointed at Jarrod. “Get some rest.” He winked. “Just kidding.” The door closed, and he strode toward the elevator. Despite the weight of his fatigue, there was a jaunt in his step. Soon, he would be able to leave the stress, the violence, the disappointment, and the worry behind. He would be in Susana’s arms.

  The Datsun 240Z came to a stop in the quiet neighborhood, and Eugene killed the engine. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, visualizing the stress of the day leaving his body like a red fog. Whenever possible, Eugene preferred to enter Susana’s home with a smile on his face.

  Pushing open the car door with one hand and grasping a small bouquet of flowers with the other, he stepped into the deepening twilight. He skipped up the steps and reached for the doorbell, but the door swung open before he could ring it.

  A woman with curly black hair tumbling over her shoulders and an impish grin on her face stood in the doorway. She hooked her fingers together behind her back and nodded at the bundle of flowers. “Excuse me, sir, but it hardly seems appropriate to bring me flowers at this hour. One might be led to question your intentions.”

  “Madam,” he said, giving a melodramatic bow, “my intentions are, as always, devious and lascivious.”

  “Excellent.” She pulled him close and planted a kiss on his lips, then she led him into the house. She filled a crystal vase with water and trimmed the stems of the flowers before setting them inside. “You didn’t call during lunch. Were you out of town?”

  Eugene sank into a chair beside the kitchen table. “Yeah. Pennsylvania.”

  She nodded slowly and studied his demeanor. “Did it…turn out okay? I mean, is everyone alright?”

  “Yes—we had a close call, but our enigmatic friend was able to step in and help.”

  She took the seat next to him and took his hands in her own. “You’ll have to introduce me to him someday. This isn’t the first time he’s saved your life.”

  “Someday,” Eugene agreed. “Maybe when he gets his head on straight.”

  She paused for a moment before addressing the usual elephant in the room. “How long can you stay?”

  “Not long. I have to go back tomorrow morning.” He massaged his temples. “I just wanted to stop by for a few hours to get some rest.” A half grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “And pretend the world isn’t such a rotten place.”

  She gazed into his eyes, and her expression grew uncharacteristically serious. “There will always be evil in the world, Gene. But there will always be good, too—as long as good people like you fight for what’s right.”

  He nodded, closed his eyes, and pressed her palm against his cheek. “I don’t know how many more fights I have left in me. But it makes it easier, knowing I get to come home to you.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “This is your home, is it? What about that dumpy trailer outside of Baltimore? Or your room in that concrete bunker?”

  He shook his head. “No. Home is wherever you are, and it always will be.” In the silence that followed, he could almost hear the engagement ring calling out to him from the glovebox of his car. But he couldn’t—not now. Not when he knew how much ugliness was waiting for him in Hillcrest.

  She chewed her lower lip and seemed to be fighting back tears. Then she playfully slapped him on the shoulder and said, “I see what you’re up to. You’re trying to get me into bed. Well, don’t bother.” She rubbed her side. “I’m afraid Aunt Flo might be planning an early visit this month.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “I didn’t know it was contagious.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The new girl—Felicity—she’s dealing with the same…issues at the moment.”

  Susana eyed him. “And…how do you know that?”

  He shrugged. “Because sometimes I ask stupid questions before thinking. It’s an old hobby of mine.”

  “Trust me, I know.” She smiled and glanced at the flowers. “But sometimes, you can be very thoughtful. Will you settle for cuddles tonight?”

  Eugene pushed his chair back and stood. “After the day I’ve had, I’d sell my left arm for ten minutes of cuddles.”

  “You can keep your arm. And I’ll even throw in breakfast for free.”

  Eugene’s eyes rolled back in his head. “I take it back—this isn’t home, it’s heaven.”

  She giggled softly and led him to her bedroom.

  Eugene kicked off his shoes and crawled beneath the covers. He wanted to stay awake with her for hours, talking about the future and breathing the floral scent of her hair, but as soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell fast asleep.

  29

  October 5th

  Syracuse, New York

  Lukas awoke to the orange glow of sunrise bleeding through the curtains. He blinked, orienting himself to the unfamiliar surroundings, and smiled. The day of reckoning had finally arrived.

  Feeling better rested than he had in weeks, he threw his blanket and bedsheet aside and hopped to his feet. It only took a moment to dress—he had worn his day clothes to bed and had only to pull on a hooded sweatshirt. After he tied his shoes, he practically skipped into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee.

  “Benjamin? Are you awake?” he called out as he cracked an egg into a skillet. “I want to set out as soon as possible.”

  The reply came just a few seconds later as Tenley ambled into the kitchen. “These days, I can rarely
sleep past five.” The elderly professor eased onto a red-cushioned bar stool and let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not as spry as I once was.”

  Lukas poured a mug of coffee. “How do you take it? Cream? Sugar?”

  “Black, thank you.”

  Lukas wrinkled his nose and handed him the steaming mug. “You’ve spent too much time in America, old friend.”

  “It is rugged and often uncivilized.” He glanced out the kitchen window at the tree-covered slopes rising in the distance. “But this place has grown on me. It reminds me of the time I spent with my grandmother, in Glasgow.”

  Lukas flipped the egg over in the pan, splattering drops of hot oil onto the stovetop. “I never knew your grandmother was Scottish.”

  “And proud of it. Right up until the day she died.” The professor sipped his coffee and nodded in appreciation. “It’s quite good. Thank you.”

  “Not at all. It’s the least I could do after you gave me a place to stay for the night.” He aimed the spatula at Benjamin. “I’m a wanted fugitive, you know.”

  Tenley let out a hearty laugh. “You’re not a fugitive, not in my book. A revolutionist, perhaps. And certainly a physician—bringing our world the medicine it desperately needs.” He paused. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve invited a friend of mine along to witness the start of a new era.”

  Lukas frowned and poked at the golden-brown border of the egg. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Our need for secrecy is paramount.”

  “I haven’t given him your name or any of the details about your weapon. And you can trust him as much as you trust me.”

  “Who is he?”

  Benjamin wore a proud smile. “His name is Harold Costa. And he’s a congressman out of the ninth district.”

  Lukas wasn’t intimately familiar with the inner workings of the U.S. government, nor did he care to be. “He is a man of influence, then?”

  “Some. But that isn’t why I called him.” Benjamin’s smile hardly faded as he took another sip of the dark, bitter drink. “I called him because he is wealthy and paranoid. He employs at least a dozen bodyguards, and they follow him everywhere. If he accompanies us, so will they.”

  The gaunt Katharos leader lifted the skillet and scraped the egg onto a plate. He took another egg out of the carton and rolled it between his fingers for several moments as he stared into the middle-distance. Having the congressman along would draw unnecessary attention, but the bodyguards could prove invaluable—serving as human shields if the pesky operatives in Hillcrest caught his scent. He cracked the egg and dumped its contents into the pan. “Very well. The congressman can be among the chosen few to witness the start of a new, more prosperous world.”

  “Excellent. He should be able to meet us at the edge of the big city by…” Tenley glanced at his watch. “Noon.”

  Lukas did a mental calculation, adding up the time it would take to sneak into the hidden laboratory, warm up the Phage Distributor, and type in the launch codes. If all went well, the weapon could be released as soon as three o’ clock this afternoon.

  Even though he had argued with Audrey about when to deploy the weapon, he felt a warmth in his chest. Today truly was the opportune moment. In a few hours, he would be the harbinger of death for the human race and the father of its immortal successor.

  Setting the egg aside, he poured himself a mug of coffee and added two heaping spoonfuls of sugar. He stirred the dark liquid until the crystals dissolved then raised his mug. “To a new world,” he said.

  “A new world,” Tenley agreed.

  30

  Hillcrest Trauma and Rehabilitation Center

  Baltimore, Maryland

  Leaving Susana and returning to Hillcrest was like getting out of a hot bath and jumping into ice water. The change was uncomfortable and abrupt, but when the initial shock passed, he felt alert and keenly aware of what he had to do.

  He needed to make Audrey talk, no matter what.

  Stepping through the glass door, he mumbled, “Sub-Level Five,” and the elevator began to descend. It passed the first level of the underground complex and halted at the second. The door slid open and remained in that position for several long moments.

  Eugene frowned as he stepped into the corridor. It wasn’t unusual to be redirected to a different Sub-Level—anyone with the correct authority could put in a request to redirect personnel movements. The computer would track the RFID’s of the person putting in the request and the person being redirected then guide them toward each other.

  “Please proceed to hallway Bravo,” an electronic voice stated.

  Eugene turned right and strode along the wide corridor. When he reached an intersection, he turned left into hallway Bravo and stopped short.

  Footsteps echoed along the walkway, and a moment later, Eli stepped into view. “Gene,” he said, hurrying forward, “thanks for coming.”

  Eugene nodded, trying to guess the source of his teammate’s excitement. “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. I’ve just been going over the data we ghosted from the Katharos computers yesterday. I might be getting ahead of myself, but it looks like we hit the jackpot. We have locations for at least nine weapons depots and a dozen other structures that are listed as ‘undefined.’ There are shipping invoices for biotech, too.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I have two of our scientists looking at it now, and they think some of this stuff could be used to create biological weapons. If we can figure out what kind of bio-agent will be released next, we might be able to figure out where it’s being manufactured.”

  Eugene pursed his lips. “You need target prioritization, is that it?”

  “That’s right. With so many different facilities to investigate, we need to know what to hit first.”

  “I might be able to help you with that. Is there anything else?”

  “Not right now. But I’ll let you know how the rest of the data pans out.”

  Eugene nodded and took a step back. “Good work, Eli. Send the information you have to the weapon’s testing terminal in Sub-Level six. I’m going to have a chat with our guest.”

  “Got it.”

  Eugene turned on his heel and walked away. Eli’s news was encouraging and would help him during the interrogation.

  The elevator began to descend once more, and Eugene wiped his palms on his jeans. He wasn’t a trained interrogator, or a psychologist, or even a college graduate. In a battle of wits against Audrey, he was at a distinct disadvantage.

  But he had something even the most skilled interrogators did not. Or, rather, someone.

  The elevator door opened, and the computer announced that he had arrived at Sub-Level Five. Breaking into a jog, he made his way to the dense steel door and the hallway beyond. He typed in the code to access Jarrod’s room and stepped inside.

  Jarrod stood in the center of the room with his hands at his side—no doubt the position he had been in all night.

  “You ready?” Eugene asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  Eugene led the human weapon one Sub-Level deeper into the earth, to Engineering. Sub-Level six was where the most sophisticated and dangerous technology was developed. His own metamaterial armor, and the more advanced version that Jarrod wore as a second skin, had been developed in the deepest, darkest corners of Hillcrest. But Eugene didn’t need next-generation armor or weapons today. All he needed was a prison cell that could contain the most dangerous man on earth.

  Upon his approach, a steel door with a dense Plexiglass window slid open. He led Jarrod into a room with four Explosive Ordinance Disposal robots in the center and heavy sets of armor hanging from the wall. At the far end of the room, a lead-lined barricade covered a steel door to a secondary room. Eugene typed a command into the terminal, and the barricade and doors gradually rolled aside.

  “Are you still okay with this? I have to shut them behind you to make this look convincing.”

  Jarrod stepped into
the secondary room. He studied the scorch marks on the walls and beneath his feet. “It’s alright. I trust you.”

  Eugene exhaled slowly and depressed the button to lock Jarrod in the room. It took the barricade nearly a minute to seal completely shut, and when it was in place, Eugene held down a second button.

  “Can you hear me?”

  Jarrod nodded, and his reply came through a speaker in the observation room. “Yes.”

  Eugene typed a set of instructions into the terminal then withdrew a radio bud from his pocket and tucked it into his ear. “I’m going to mute the speakers in here, but I’ll still be able to hear you through my radio. You’ll still be able to hear me and Audrey, and I want you to let me know when you think she’s lying.”

  “I understand.”

  Eugene glanced at the screen. Jarrod’s dark armor blended in with the blackened marks left behind by hundreds of tests. It was ironic, in a way—Hillcrest had detonated hundreds of explosive weapons in the shielded room, but none were as lethal as the man inside now. “Try pacing around a bit. It’s hard to see you.”

  Jarrod obeyed, and Eugene nodded in satisfaction. “Perfect. Sit tight; I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Audrey held herself in a tight embrace, digging her nails into her back until she felt the warm liquid kissing her fingertips. Her lips formed silent words; she counted to one hundred, then back down again. When she reached zero, she counted to a thousand and mouthed the numbers back to zero. Just a little bit longer, she told herself. He was lying. It won’t be a week—he’ll be back in a few minutes. Seconds, even.

  But how long had it been? When she tried to estimate the passage of time by recalling her previous thoughts and actions, her entire life seemed to blur together. Maybe it had already been a week, or maybe a month, or a year. She shook her head. She would be dead already if that was true. Then a terrible thought struck her. What if I am dead, and this is hell?

 

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