I laughed off their account of the kid making the floor rip apart as probable drug-induced hallucinations. It was only after Mason had grabbed two other kids, and killed one of them, that I’d really started believing them. The kid, who’d been so recently grazed by a bullet in the head, had somehow managed to demolish a house Mason apparently used to cater to some of his more repulsive customers. I kicked myself for not being able to figure out what Mason had been using the house for. Before it had been demolished, I’d made a delivery to that address. The men who’d answered must have concealed the children before I’d made the delivery.
When I’d heard about the house, I made a quick stop by the warehouse where the street kid had allegedly ripped up the floor. When I saw the massive destruction to the formerly solid cement floor, I had begun to believe. The name given to the ‘freak’ by Mason and his men had been The Earthshaker, and I was beginning to suspect it was an apt description. There were no signs of explosives either there or at the demolished house. When I discovered that, my doubts all but vanished. Somehow the local cops had found a kid with impossible abilities.
Mason hadn’t kept his capture of the ‘freak’ a secret, so it came as no surprise to me when my handler called, requesting that I meet with a Detective Farrow and her partner. Unfortunately, Mason had been keeping a fairly tight lid on what he planned to do with the kid once he had him. I had no idea where he was.
I felt as if I were to blame for the little girl’s death. Almost the same as with the demolished house, I felt as if I should have been able to stop it somehow. I had tried to sooth myself with the knowledge that I had saved the little boy, but that action could have cost me the ability to dig into Mason’s current prisoner. My assignment to kill the boy had been the first major task I’d been given, and I’d failed. It wouldn’t take long for the people I worked with to find out he was still alive. Mason had people all over the city that could tell him that. My position was tenuous, but for my failure with the girl, I would do my best to dig up this so-called Earthshaker’s location.
It was for that purpose that I was headed to the warehouse I had infiltrated and was working out of for Mason. I climbed off my motorcycle and walked to the door, pausing before I entered. I had to put my game face on, and I needed to be able to explain how I’d failed to kill an eleven-year-old boy. No matter what happened, I knew the boy was among friends. My handler had told me he was resting comfortably and would heal well.
I pulled the door open and walked in confidently, a big grin on my face. “Hey, guys,” I said brightly. “I heard the boss was able to catch the Freak.”
“Yeah, Jones,” Mike Anderson answered me with a glower. “And I heard the kid you was supposed to kill ain’t dead. Why’s that?”
I gave an exaggerated shrug to hide my surprise that they’d found out so quickly, and sighed loudly. “I put him next to the wall and shot, but he collapsed right as I was shooting. He was barely breathing, and someone walked past so I couldn’t shoot again so I decided to just leave ‘im. I figured he’d never make it to morning anyway.” I shrugged again. “Guess I was wrong.”
It was hard to pretend to be heartless. I had a nephew the same age as the kid I was supposed to kill, and it was difficult to separate the two in my mind. The fear in the boy’s eyes had struck me, and I wondered if he’d be able to get over having a gun pointed at him by a strange guy. Even my action to save him could have traumatized him greatly.
Carlos Veda, the other man working in the warehouse, shrugged. “The boss don’t really care ‘bout that anyway. He’s got the freak. The kid brother is worthless.”
That took me by surprise. “The kid was the Freak’s brother? I hadn’t heard that. Thought he was just a part of the street gang he ran with.”
I mentally cringed every time I used the word ‘freak’ to describe the street kid. Yeah, maybe he was different and had powerful abilities, but he was still a person. That put him in the Decent Human Being category in my book; unlike all the people I was currently surrounded by.
“Yeah, so?” Carlos asked, cocking his head and narrowing his dark eyes at me curiously. “What’s it matter that the kid is his brother?”
I thought quickly. “It doesn’t. Just thought it would be fun to tell big brother what happened to his little bro.” I took a steadying breath and dove in. “You don’t know where the boss is holding ‘im, do you?”
These men were not a part of Mason’s inner circle, but they’d been in his gang much longer than I’d been. They would have heard stories and rumors, and they possibly would have an idea which of the several properties Mason owned he would be using.
“Not for sure, but I bet he’s at the Farm.” At my questioning look Veda sat up straighter, proud of himself for knowing something the ‘new guy’ didn’t.
He seemed to be waiting for something so I bit. “Okay, what’s the Farm?” I asked impatiently, rolling my eyes slightly. My brother-in-law sometimes pulled this same trick. Matt was a nice enough guy, but he really liked knowing things other people didn’t, so I was tired of Veda’s game before it had even started.
“It’s a place the boss takes people he really doesn’t like. He has a shed that’s filled with things he uses to make a person regret ever crossing him.” He leaned in close, looking to both sides as if afraid of being overheard. “You know he used to have a partner?”
I nodded. “He’s the one who slit Mason’s throat, right?” I asked. It was a pity that little venture hadn’t been more successful.
“Yeah. Well, I heard Mason took him to The Farm, strung ‘im up in the shed, and spent days coming up with ways to make him regret his attempt.”
Anderson nodded. “I heard the partner was begging for death only hours after Mason started, but he dragged it out anyway.”
I hoped the stories were exaggerated, but if not, it sounded like Detective Farrow’s informant was in for a really rough ride. I quickly masked the expression of revulsion that crossed my face, and laughed. “I’d like to see what he comes up with for the Freak who nearly put ‘im out of business,” I said.
“You’re a sick man, Jonesy,” Anderson said. “I wouldn’t wanna see it.”
I shrugged and looked away from them. “Think the boss would let me go out to The Farm and watch?” I asked, carefully keeping the horror I felt at the idea off my face. This part of my assignment was harder than I’d anticipated. I didn’t want to see this kid suffering, but in order to save him; I might have to watch him get hurt… if I could get there.
Carlos looked at me, dark eyes narrowed in thought. “I might be able to contact John. He might be willing to take you there. Give me a day or so to arrange it, if you really want me to.” He looked at me as if expecting me to change my mind and almost hoping I would.
I couldn’t blame him. John Doe was possibly the creepiest person on Mason’s payroll. I’d never seen him but I heard he almost never spoke and he seemed to have the ability to appear out of nowhere. No one knew his real name and he never offered one, so everyone simply called him John. He was one of Mason’s most trusted employees. He almost never left Mason’s side, and no one really knew what he did for Mason. If I had personal contact with him, it would be the closest to Mason I’ve been since this operation started.
“Call him,” I said.
THIRTY-FOUR
Jason
The pain-free void I had fallen into didn’t last nearly long enough. As soon as I started becoming aware of myself again, my whole body hurt. I felt the burns from the cigars and the brand, the stinging pain from the multiple cuts inflicted by the knife, and the throbbing pain from all of the bruises. My arms were numb from having my whole weight on them, so I took a deep breath and tried to get my feet under me again. I almost cried out as my first couple attempts failed, and I nearly gave up, but I finally managed to get my feet on the floor. The agony in my arms eased only slightly as the weight of my body was removed, but they were still extended above my head.
My attenti
on turned from my arms to the collar. The metal prongs felt like they’d left burns in my skin, and it felt tighter than it had at first. Somehow I needed to get it off. Mason didn’t want me dead, but I wouldn’t be able to withstand his torture much longer. I cringed when I realized I was already playing into his hand. By the end of our… session, I had been actively forcing myself to not use my power. When he told me to use it and the pain would stop I had to; there was no other choice.
That fact did little to comfort me. I had been here just over a day and was already allowing his plan to succeed. Alice needed to find me soon. I had to try to buy her some time, which meant extending this as long as possible. I couldn’t give in again, no matter what pain it caused me.
The door opened. I noticed that it was dark and realized it had started raining. The pattering on the roof indicated that it was pouring pretty hard. I’d always liked how the rain made things seem so new and clean, but tonight it just seemed bleak and depressing. It took several minutes before I recognized that Mason had entered when the door opened, and he’d been waiting for me to acknowledge him.
My gaze flicked up to his face and he smiled. “There you are. You seemed like you were a million miles away.” He spoke evenly, almost happily. Nothing like a man who’d spent the better part of a day torturing someone. My cooperation had apparently put him in a good mood.
“There’s someone who wants to join in the fun tomorrow,” he said. “A manager at one of my warehouses called one of my men here and said one of his workers seemed very interested in seeing you suffer. He’ll be coming tomorrow evening, so do try to hold out ‘til then, could you?” He wouldn’t kill me. That had been made clear by his desire to use me. But he wanted me to fight him so his employee could help with my punishments.
My voice still wouldn’t work after all my screaming earlier, so I settled for narrowing my eyes in anger. The ground rumbled slightly, but the sound was masked by a loud crash of thunder, so my use of power went unpunished. “So you do have some spirit left. Good. Like I said, I enjoy a challenge. Keep it up, kid,” he said proudly.
I clenched my teeth and held back the power that was building. My hope was if I held back long enough, I’d be able to let loose a huge burst of destructive power before he or anyone else could use the collar again. To take out Mason, I was willing to do almost anything, even if it hurt me. Before I resorted to that, I needed to give Alice more time to find me. Maybe I wouldn’t have to use my power to hurt anyone—even Mason… maybe.
“I have some water for you, and I’m going to let you down for the night. Mick is going to help me with that, so don’t even think of trying anything or you stay there and we continue our activities from before.” He waited for a response. I didn’t know what he wanted, so I just nodded. My arms needed the break and I really needed some water.
Apparently that’s all he was waiting for because he went to the door and the Bulldog came in to help him. Mick? I guess it fit. Rhymes with prick. I chuckled and the Bulldog looked at me as if I’d gone crazy. Like I cared what he thought. Stupid prick. I’d teach him.
The Bulldog reached up and grabbed my wrists and I jerked away from the touch, groaning in pain as the movement ripped at several of the cuts on my back and my shoulders. He pulled away and looked at his boss for direction.
“Get him down,” Mason ordered. “We’re putting him over there.” He motioned to a corner where there was a small door. I wondered, with some dread, what was behind that door.
As the Bulldog unlocked the cuffs, my arms fell limply at my side, and I collapsed against his chest. I tried to pull away, but he grabbed me and dragged me over to where Mason had opened the door. Behind the door was a thick metal pipe. I looked at it in confusion, switching my confused gaze to Mason’s face as the Bulldog spun me around and pulled my arms behind me to be cuffed together around the pole.
Mason shrugged, correctly reading my look. “I like the flash of fear when people don’t know what’s coming,” he said. “So I hid the pole behind a door. Such a simple thing to cause such fear, isn’t it?”
I rolled my eyes slightly, but had to agree that the fear of the unknown was huge. I cringed and hissed as the returning circulation sent burning pain through my arms. Mason watched with a small smile on his face, and my anger grew. The power strained to be released, but it needed to wait. The small rumble around us was dismissed as thunder. My eyes narrowed as I realized I was cuffed to a metal pole during an electrical storm.
Mason frowned and suddenly struck me in the face with the back of his hand. “Manners, Jason,” he growled. I looked at him confused. “You may not be able to talk, but you’re being rude. I’m doing you a favor letting you have a break tonight and have some water, and all you do is glare at me?”
I needed the water, so I forced myself to school my face to look apologetic. I think I only managed slightly less angry, but it seemed to satisfy his sudden rage. He held the water bottle to my lips and I drank slowly. He let me take several swallows before pulling the bottle away and setting it on the floor in front of me. “Have a good night. We’ll be starting up again in the morning, so sleep while you can.” He and ‘Mick’ left, turning off the light as they did.
My arms were still tingling and burning, but not as badly as earlier. Mason seemed overly confident in his ability to break me. By giving me time to rest, even if I was still extremely uncomfortable, my power would have time to recharge. Maybe he didn’t know about that part of my ability. He certainly didn’t know that my control was tenuous at best. If he pushed me much more, I wouldn’t be able to hold it back, and he’d be forced to electrocute me until I was unconscious. Or worse.
I decided to try to get some sleep. Tomorrow promised to be a long and extremely painful day, and I was already exhausted from today’s excessively painful activities. I closed my eyes in the darkness, trying not to think about the half a bottle of water sitting only a few inches from me, and steadied my breaths. The cuts and bruises on my back made leaning on the pole hurt, but I was so tired that the discomfort only bothered me for a few minutes before I sank into the wonderfully pain-free darkness of sleep.
THIRTY-FIVE
Jones
I’d left the warehouse after Carlos promised to get in touch with John. He told me that he’d call or John would be in touch with me to let me know if a visit to the Farm would be allowed. I went to the scummy apartment I’d been set up in for this operation and flopped onto the bed. My bed in my real apartment was softer and fit me better. The mattress here was lumpy and hard, and everything in the apartment was bare-bones. I had the bed and a couple chairs around a rickety table in the kitchenette; my home had a clean kitchen with almost new furniture and plenty of equipment for cooking—which I enjoyed. The persona I’d been living under lived almost exclusively on take-out and pizza.
Six months undercover, hiding my identity and keeping away from family and friends, yet a street kid had been able to accomplish more in six weeks. I groaned. It was exhausting playing a role almost constantly for so long, but it was too early to go to sleep. I had to check my email for any messages from my handler regarding the meeting tomorrow, and I had a couple things to pick up for Mason.
I was still undercover, even if it seemed like the assignment was coming to an end. I needed to appear as if I were still working with them in order to get permission to go to the Farm. It would be so nice if everything went according to plan and I could go home. My sister and her family understood that I was an undercover agent and would be out of contact for long periods of time, but six months was a long time to stay away from my family.
I groaned again as I rubbed a hand over my face wearily and forced myself to sit up. When I went to the computer, there was an email telling me the meeting with Detective Farrow and her partner would be at nine o’clock at a small coffee shop on the other side of the city. They would come in plain clothes and with their badges hidden in order to help me preserve my cover until their informant had been found.
Their discretion would be appreciated, and I sent a reply saying I agreed with the time and place of the meet. After my errands for Mason tonight, I wasn’t due back at the warehouse until noon tomorrow anyway. I had to go pick up some packages and deliver them to other locations. Most of them went to people Mason had allied himself with, and I made sure to keep a list of people and places I delivered to. So far the packages looked the same. I had managed to get a look inside one of them and saw the tell-tale white powder of cocaine.
Whatever else we were about to get Mason on, we’d be able to get him on drug trafficking as well. I had not been involved with any of Mason’s other crimes, but my testimony—when the time came—would help to put him away for a long time. Knowing that was sometimes the only thing that kept me going. My cell phone rang in the middle of one of my deliveries. “It’s Jones,” I answered. I had already delivered the drugs and it wasn’t the first time I’d been to this location, so I hadn’t needed to commit it to memory.
“You’re on,” Carlos’ voice came over the receiver. “Someone will pick you up tomorrow at six sharp from the warehouse. You’ll be blindfolded. The boss doesn’t want his location compromised.”
I nodded once in satisfaction. “I’ll be there. Thanks for setting it up, Veda.”
There was a pause on the other side of the line. “No problem. Apparently the boss likes that you wanna see this.” There was another pause and he added, “Good luck, Jonesy.”
I was about to respond when I heard the dial tone. “Thanks,” I said anyway, hanging up slowly. The guys I worked with at the warehouse were not good people, but they were nowhere near as bad as the men in Mason’s inner circle. I’d met a couple of the guys who acted as Mason’s bodyguards, and they had been bad. Both had the hardened look of killers, and I suspected one or both of them had been involved in the death of the little girl earlier in the week.
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