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Unleashed: Part 3 (Unleashed Series)

Page 7

by Rachel McClellan


  But Gage didn’t move, not even bat an eye. The threat of a cure stopped him cold. Instead he said, “Claire will have nothing to do with Bodian. Ever. She's mine."

  “She will never be yours.” The man reached into his right breast pocket and removed a vial containing a bluish liquid. "We want you to give Claire this, in addition to what she’s already taken.”

  "Why? What's wrong with what I have?"

  The man didn’t blink. "It's flawed."

  "How?"

  "Just give her the injection."

  "Or what?"

  "Do you really need to ask? Now be a good boy and toss the drive on three, and I’ll pass the vial. Don’t screw this up.” The pink-tied man paused briefly before counting. “One. Two. Three.”

  Every part of him wanted to rebel, but Gage found himself tossing the drive. A second later he caught the thrown vial in his hand.

  “We’ll be in touch. Stay close,” the man said. He turned around and walked back into the forest.

  "I'm not your call girl!" Gage called and cursed.

  Bodian thought they were going to control Claire. He cursed again. One thing he'd never allow to happen was for her to be controlled. He wanted her completely free from every emotion and everyone, just like he was until Bodian found him. Once he unleashed her, he just knew she would want to be with him. And if not...well, then he'd love the chase.

  Gage’s spine tingled. He was still being watched. He focused all his senses on the surrounding area trying to determine how many men he was still up against. He detected five; three to his left and two to his right. He could hear them slowly creeping backwards away from him. They were at least twenty yards away. And just beyond them was the man heading north. Gage focused on his scent and memorized it.

  As soon as he was sure he was alone, Gage took off running. He pushed himself as fast as he could go, using the forest’s dark shadows to conceal him. He was closing in fast when he heard a car door close. Then another.

  Gage slowed when he saw three vehicles through the trees, their engines running. Two black cars and one blue truck were parked on the side of the road. The truck was last in line and its bed appeared empty except for a pair of metal boxes. The driver’s side door was open. A tall man dressed in some sort of black uniform stood next to it, speaking into his cell phone.

  When the man turned his back, Gage crouched low and darted through the trees until he was hunched over at the rear of the truck. He quietly crawled into its bed where he attempted to conceal himself between the two chests that, after sniffing them, smelled like guns and ammo. A moment later, the truck door closed and it began to move forward.

  Gage tried to remember the turns, thinking it would be important later. He counted out ten minutes before the truck turned left. At about twelve minutes it turned right, then at another ten it drove onto what Gage thought was a private lane based on how bumpy the ride had become.

  The truck slowed and Gage heard what sounded like a garage door opening. The truck pulled forward slowly. There was one car still with them. He could hear it moving just ahead. He wondered briefly what happened to the other vehicle.

  A shadow passed over the truck. At first Gage assumed they had pulled into a garage, but when he heard the echoing of car doors opening and closing, he knew he was in a much larger facility.

  The men said few words to each other as they left the vehicles, their footsteps snapping against concrete. Gage took a chance and slowly rose from his cramped position just in time to see them disappearing through a wide door to his right. The rest of the place looked like some sort of warehouse with large crates stacked into several aisles. He glanced up. The ceiling must’ve been at least thirty feet high. Wide circle lights hung down from metal beams across the top.

  To the left of him, high in the corner, he spotted a rotating camera turning in his direction. He jumped from the truck and scurried beneath it. A soon as it passed by, he crawled out and sprinted toward the door. Surprisingly, it wasn’t locked.

  He quickly slipped inside; a blast of air conditioning ruffled his hair and cooled his skin. A fluorescent light, sensing his presence, flickered on. The room was empty except for three AR-15's propped against the wall and a set of stairs leading down. And it smelled like rubbing alcohol and lemons, making him think of Bodian Dynamics.

  After a few minutes of nothing happening, like guards rushing up or an alarm sounding, he descended the darkened steps. He was careful not to be heard, knowing a surprise entrance would be best. At the bottom, the room seemed to open up, but he couldn't tell how much because of a heavy darkness that felt almost alive. Somehow it reminded him of himself. He shook his head to dismiss the thought. Nothing was like him.

  He waited several seconds in the dark, hoping to hear any sounds, but the silence was deafening. Where had the men gone? Just then a light flipped on in the center of the room. It shined down from a high ceiling onto a glass enclosure. Inside was a well-built, blond-haired man in a gray t-shirt and black pants, standing tall and staring right at Gage. Behind him was a glass desk and chair, and on the floor was a single blanket and pillow.

  Gage approached him, his steps echoing on the concrete floor in what could only be a massive warehouse of some sort, but he couldn’t see any other parts of the inside of the building. Etched into a metal sign above the enclosure’s glass door read the word "Ares.”

  Gage stopped in front of the glass. "What's up, Ares?"

  The man, who looked no older than twenty, continued to stare. His stone expression revealed nothing, but the shadow in his blue eyes bled a cruelty Gage could relate to.

  Gage knocked on the glass. "How's the weather in there?"

  Ares blinked once, then asked, "Who are you?" His voice was monotone, yet held a threatening note.

  Gage shrugged. "Technically, I'm an employee of Bodian. Hell, I might even be your boss."

  Ares squared his feet beneath his shoulders. "You are not my boss."

  Gage glanced around. "What is this place?"

  "Home."

  "Sucks for you. How do you get out?"

  "Through a door."

  "You think?” Gage tried a different question. “Who lets you out?"

  "The men in charge."

  Gage sighed. "Someone screwed with your brain, didn't they? You sound like a dumb robot." He waited for a reaction, some kind of emotional response, but when he didn't get it, he asked, "Where are you from?"

  "L.A."

  "Why'd you come here?"

  "A chance for a better life."

  Gage looked around his cramped living quarters. "Your life must've been pretty bad."

  "Dr. Prescott helped me."

  "Dr. Prescott? Haven't heard that name before. Where can I find him?"

  "He comes to me."

  Just then the door to the glass enclosure clicked as if someone had opened it remotely.

  Gage looked around. "Did you do that?"

  "Looks like you're supposed to come inside," Ares said, his tone dropping.

  Gage couldn't ignore the challenge. He opened the door, but before it closed, he broke off the handle to ensure he wouldn't be locked inside.

  "Kill him," a deep voice boomed from a speaker above.

  Ares took a step toward him.

  "Was that man talking to me or you?" Gage asked. "Because I'm pretty sure it was to me."

  Ares circled around him. Gage adjusted his feet accordingly, keeping his shoulders square and always facing Ares.

  "You're like me," Ares said, his fists clenched tight.

  Gage kept just out of reach. "Not even close."

  "I have to kill you now," Ares said.

  "I'd love to see you try."

  Ares lunged for him. Gage tried to move, but Ares caught him around the middle and slammed his back into the glass wall. Gage was surprised by Ares’s strength and speed; it mirrored his own. But Gage wasn't worried.

  He raised his arm and pressed it against Ares's throat until Ares was forced to let go
. Gage pushed him away and kicked hard into his chest. Ares stumbled backwards, but recovered quickly and kicked high, connecting with Gage's jaw. Gage flew backwards into the glass table. It exploded under the pressure, spraying glass in all directions. The sound was deafening.

  Ares jumped at what would've been an impossible length for a normal human being across the room and onto him. His fists repeatedly pounded into Gage’s face, one hard blow after another. Gage felt and heard his bones break and grind against each other. It took all the strength he had to throw Ares to the side and squirm out from under him. He wiped at the blood pouring from his nose. Time to get creative.

  Ares was already on his feet and coming for him again. Gage crouched low and ducked when Ares swung. He rolled across the floor toward the broken glass. He took hold of a shard with his right hand but he wasn't fast enough to prevent Ares from slamming into his side, pinning his arm to the floor. Another rain of fists to the side of his head.

  Gage rolled over, knocking Ares off balance, but Ares barely stumbled before he was crawling back, reaching for his legs. Gage kicked at his face and scurried away. He stood up, concealing the shard of glass at his thigh. He smiled and silently thanked Claire for the idea.

  Ares unfolded himself until he was standing tall, muscles tight and body rigid. Like an uncoiled spring, he lunged at Gage, but Gage raised his hand and shouted, "Stop!"

  Ares stopped and for the first time a shadow of emotion crossed his face: confusion. Gage took advantage of the moment and swung his left fist toward Ares’ face. Ares easily caught it, but what Ares didn't know was that while Gage was swinging his left arm, his right arm was also swinging up until it stopped when the glass shard drove deep into his neck.

  Ares didn't cry out, but he did stop attacking him to try and remove the glass from his neck. Blood spurted from the wound, making it difficult for him to get a decent grip.

  While Ares was distracted, Gage ran and kicked him in the chest. Ares flew back against the glass wall, his head cracking against it. By the time he hit the ground, Ares was dead or unconscious; Gage didn't care which.

  "Is that all you got?" he shouted to the voice above. "I will always win, do you understand?" He breathed heavily, blood dripping down his face.

  Fluorescent lights turned on one at a time, slowly, deliberately, revealing the massive size of the room. On each side of him, in long rows and columns, were more glass cages. Each of them contained a lone man or woman, standing still and erect, fists clenched tight at their sides. And every single one was staring at Gage.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Before dark and before Ethan came over, Claire had Officer Johnson take her to the police station so she could visit with Smith. He was in the lobby talking to someone on his cell phone.

  She waved and forced a smile. Smith held his finger up, signaling in a minute. She dropped into a nearby swivel chair and waited. Even in a police station she didn't feel safe. Gage could come in and kill everyone at any point. And she'd almost chosen that life.

  In the end, that was what made her decide not to take the final injection. She didn't want to hurt anyone. Ever. She'd been the victim of a monster before and never wanted anyone to feel that pain, especially by her hand.

  No. As much as she wanted the ache in her heart to go away, it would never be at the expense of others.

  "Everything okay, Claire?" Smith said when he finished.

  She twirled the chair around. Smith looked worried. And tired. "I'm fine. Just wanted to visit you."

  "Come back to my office. We can talk there."

  Claire followed him back, wondering why she had come. She didn't have anything specific to talk about.

  "What's going on?" Smith said after he closed the door.

  She sat down on the sofa across from his desk. "Nothing really. Just hadn't seen you in a while."

  His voice lowered. "Have you seen Gage?"

  She paused. "No. I think you guys scared him away," she lied.

  Smith visibly relaxed. "Good, but I still want Officer Johnson watching you for awhile longer. Is that okay?"

  "Of course." She shifted, pulling her legs beneath her. Just then her phone buzzed. She looked down at its lit-up face. Ethan. She ignored it.

  "Other than the problems you’ve had with Gage, have you had a decent summer?" Smith asked.

  "Uh-huh."

  "And how's Ethan? You still together?"

  She squirmed. "Good and yes."

  Silence.

  Smith leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. "What's going on, Claire?"

  She shrugged. "I don't know. It's just that..."

  She shook her head. Her phone buzzed again. This time it was Logan. She turned off her phone and looked up. "Why?"

  "Why what?"

  "Why have I had so many problems? Is something wrong with me?"

  Smith leaned back; the chair creaked under his weight. "You've had your fair share of trials, no one would deny that. Everyone has them, some worse than others. Trials are what make us stronger, better people if we let them."

  She stared at the floor.

  Smith continued. "Sometimes it may feel like we're wandering around in the dark for a long time, but then we get these rays of sunshine that push through the shadows. It's these rays we need to hang on to for they will guide us out of the night and into the day.” He waited a second before saying, “Do you understand?"

  "What if there are no rays?" she said, still staring at the floor.

  "There's always light, no matter how small. You have people that love and care for you, Claire. Hang on to this, and soon, what you're going through now, will just be a bad dream. Besides, you're only eighteen. You have your whole life ahead of you, and, knowing you as well as I do, you will crash right through it." He shook his head and laughed. "I can't wait to see where you end up. It's going to be somewhere fantastic for sure."

  For the first time in many days, Claire really smiled, and her burden didn't seem so heavy. "Thank you.”

  "You’re welcome. You know," he said, reaching into a drawer and removing a file "maybe this will help you feel better, too."

  She leaned forward.

  "I don't know what Gage is exactly, but I know Bodian Dynamics had something to do with it. I've been collecting evidence against them and I think—"

  Claire jumped up. "No! You can't!"

  She was afraid of getting him any more involved than he already was. Bodian would ruin him for sure just like they had Anne.

  Smith leaned back. "Why?"

  "Please, Smith. Don't look into it. Just forget it. There's nothing to look into. Please. I'm begging you." She was close to tears. If anything happened to Smith…

  He stood up and hurried around the desk, taking her by both arms. "What aren't you telling me?"

  Claire coughed and quickly recovered. "Nothing. I just don't want to see you get hurt. Bodian is dangerous."

  "I'm sorry, but I have enough evidence to open an investigation. I've been wanting to go after them for a long time."

  Claire lowered her head. "Then be careful."

  "If there's something you're not telling me, I need to know."

  “There’s nothing.” Not yet anyway. Maybe if she got rid of Gage.

  "Did Johnson give you a ride here?" he asked.

  "He's out front waiting for me."

  "Good. I'll walk you out."

  Outside the police station, Officer Johnson was leaning against his patrol car reading a book.

  "Looks like rough work," Smith said and shook his hand.

  "Real rough," Officer Johnson said. "You should've seen the crazy party Claire threw the other night."

  Smith turned to her.

  Claire walked around the front of the car and opened the door. "Right. And Johnson cooked us special brownies."

  Officer Johnson laughed. "I'll be just a second, Claire," he said and began talking to Smith.

  She got in the car and checked her phone. Kate and Steph had both called
her once, Logan two times, and Ethan three. She smiled. Smith was right about people caring.

  The driver’s side door opened, but instead of Johnson, Smith got in. Johnson slid into the back seat.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  Smith started the car. “I think I’ll play watch dog for awhile, drop Tom off at home. It’s his anniversary, did you know that?”

  “Forty-two years,” Johnson said, smiling.

  “Congratulations,” Claire said and then turned back at Smith. “But what about your car?”

  “Wife dropped me off today.” He drove onto the street and ten minutes later was dropping Johnson off in front of a small white house. “I’ll pick you up in the morning, Tom,” Smith said. “Have fun tonight.”

  Johnson nodded his head and disappeared into his house. Several minutes later it was Claire’s turn. Smith parked the patrol car in her driveway.

  "I'll be out here if you need me," he said.

  "You know you can come inside, right?"

  "Oh no. It's better if I'm out here. Keep an eye on the surrounding area."

  "Well if you get bored, at least come inside for something to eat. I think I have chips and salsa. Or I can bring it out to you."

  "Deal." Smith peered out the windshield. "Looks like a nasty storm is coming."

  Claire didn't bother looking.

  "There's always a storm," she whispered and opened the door. Before she closed it, she said, "Thanks for everything. I really do feel better knowing you're out here."

  "No problem. And don’t worry about things. Like you said, Gage is probably long gone. Maybe just another week of this and then you can go back to living a normal life."

  She nodded and closed the door. A normal life. She sighed and walked inside the house. Stuck to the refrigerator, Claire found a note from her mother saying she'd be back late, but from where, she didn’t say. Claire must’ve just missed her. She scrunched the paper and tossed it into the garbage. It missed its target and fell to the ground. She sat down next to the crumbled paper, overcome by an overwhelming feeling of dread.

  Claire wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting there, but when a knock rattled the door, she jumped. Before she stood up, she reached behind her back and adjusted the gun.

 

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