Heightened: The Federation Series

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Heightened: The Federation Series Page 25

by Miria Masdan


  “Maybe you need more motivation,” he says. He nods to one of his men.

  He leaves the room. We sit in silence. I try and think of something that I have, that might be worth Quinn’s life. I have nothing. The only way to save him is to complete the impossible.

  The guard returns and Pam is with him.

  “How,” I cry, “you knew?”

  “I am a planner,” he says. “I am always miles ahead of my competition.”

  “Are you okay,” I ask Pam. “Did they hurt you?”

  She shakes her head.

  “I’m sorry,” I think about her warning. I didn’t listen. “I’ll do it.”

  “Great,” he nods to the guard.

  I sigh and look at Pam. But my brief moment of relief is shattered by the muffled sound of a single gunshot. Pam slumps and falls to the ground.

  I scream. Rizzio grabs me and covers my mouth. I fight for air; inhaling tears through his clenched hands.

  He pushes me towards my sister. I forcefully try to blink away my tears. He makes me kneel next to her; his hand still firm on my mouth.

  “You did this,” he says. “You killed her and you will kill him too.”

  I can’t look at her; all I see is her blood spread across the crisp marble tiles.

  “You will do what I ask,” he grabs my throat and tightens his grip.

  I can hear my sobs and my blood beating against the inside of my skull. I no longer fight for air, I want to die; I want to be punished for my actions.

  He removes his hand from my face. I still refuse to breath. I hold my lips together as tight as I can. My head numbs and my face is warm, but I can’t control myself. I gasp for air.

  He releases me. I can’t move. I want to scoop her up and shake her; make her breath, make her live. I know if I touch her; it will be real. She will be dead.

  Rizzio’s guard pulls me up. I am no longer in control of my body; I am lost inside my mind. I can feel his hand on my arm. I can see the walls blur as we pass them, and I can hear sounds: faint and detached. But I am unaware.

  The cold air slams against my face as we leave the building. I blink and inhale. I choke; the air tightens and chills my lungs. I can feel the cold.

  I look out the window of the car as we drive away. I see a car pull up in front of the hotel. I see Max, Smith, Chris and Quinn get out of the car.

  “Stop,” I say.

  The driver doesn’t respond.

  “Please,” I beg. “I have to go back.”

  He keeps driving.

  I don’t think. I open the door and jump out. I hit the ground hard. I roll; holding my arms over my face. I can feel the pavement tear my skin. When I finally stop, I lie still and gasp for air. I apparently didn’t think that through enough. I can barely move. I roll over onto my knees. I manage to get half way up before someone grabs me around my waist.

  I kick and throw a hard elbow, but he’s too strong.

  I scream. He covers my face. I can see Quinn. He’s still outside the hotel.

  I bite hard. I can taste a warm metallic, liquid ooze into my mouth. He takes his hand from my mouth, and he slams me to the ground.

  My lungs fight for air. I try to scream, but a solid kick hits me square in the back; dropping me to the pavement.

  It’s a moment before I can move. He has me in his arms, and he’s carrying me back to the car. I dig my fingers into his face, tearing at his eyes.

  He drops me. I get up and run towards the hotel. I scream, “Quinn!”

  I can hear the man behind me. My back, my ankle, my head; they all ache, but I push through the pain.

  I call him again, “Quinn!”

  I feel the hand on my shoulder. I drop to the ground. I hear the shot, and he falls back. I look at the man chasing me. He’s dead.

  I look back to the hotel. Quinn is running to me. I collapse.

  He grabs me and pulls me into his arms. I rest my head on his chest and close my eyes. He groans and hunches over a bit. He’s hurt. I’m hurt. But I don’t care, I could die right now and I would be happy.

  Max is standing over us, “We have to go.”

  “Can you make it?” says Quinn, as he looks me over. His hands touch my face; I gasp. I’m hurt: my face, ribs, and my ankle.

  “No,” I have so much to say. “You have to leave, get away from here. I can’t do this, not if you…I need to do this…Why the Hell are you here? Stay away from me, it’s not safe.”

  “Slow down,” he says.

  “I can’t,” I push him. “Go, I can’t have you here.”

  “We can talk about this in the car,” he says. “Can you get up?”

  “Yeah,” I lie. “I’m fine. I don’t need your help. You have to go.”

  “I know you think you’re protecting me, but I’m not leaving you,” he says. “I need to remember. Emma, I have to know.”

  “It’s too late,” I say. “I’m already dead. There’s no reason for you to die too. I’m not letting you save me this time.”

  He pulls me up, and I step with my hurt ankle. I stumble and shift my weight onto my good leg. My head is throbbing, but I push him.

  “Don’t Quinn,” I’m angry. “I can’t do this again. I thought you were dead. I saw you die. I can’t live without you.”

  “You don’t have to,” he says.

  “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” I beg. “Let me save you, please.”

  He puts his arm around me tight, and we head to their car.

  “I’m not leaving without you,” he says.

  I want to feel safe, but I know that I am not, and Quinn is in more danger than I am. I want to leave. I want to pretend like my whole world is not turned upside down. I look up at the hotel and the stars above. I made a promise. Quinn’s safety is all that I care about.

  I need to get away from him. If Rizzio finds him, he will kill him. Everything is happening so fast. I can’t think.

  I get into the car. I’m sitting towards the hotel. I look at the double door. Quinn, Max, and Chris are still outside. Smith is sitting in the driver’s seat. The engine is running.

  Quinn opens the door and gets in next to me. Chris sits beside him. Max is walking around to the front passenger seat. I am still looking at the hotel. I see Rizzio, and he has five of his guards with him.

  I look at Quinn, “I’m sorry.”

  “What?”

  I open the door and jump out, just as Rizzio and his men burst out of the doors.

  He tries to grab me, but I am too quick. I fall onto the pavement. I can’t support myself on my ankle.

  Rizzio’s guards open fire.

  Smith takes off. I watch them leave. My heart breaks again, but at least I know that someplace deep inside him, he still cares.

  I feel Rizzio’s hand on my shoulder. “You must really love him.”

  “I do,” I don’t cry. I know that I did the right thing. I know that he is safe, at least for the time being.

  “It’s time to go,” he says. “They’ll be back.”

  “A meeting with Atticus,” I say, “that’s what you want?”

  “A small ransom would be nice too,” he squeezes my shoulder; a sharp pain shoots down my back.

  “I’m ready,” I say.

  “Good,” he says, “I’ve already made the call to his representatives.”

  “We should know before we arrive back in the East,” a large car pulls up. He opens the door, and I slide across the seat.

  He gives me a pain blocker. I fall asleep. I’m exhausted, and the lull of the ride is more than I can resist.

  I’m not sure how long it’s been when he receives the phone call from Atticus. I open my eyes and roll my head towards Rizzio. He is listening. He nods his head and then looks at me. His eyes are wide, and he is smiling.

  He hangs up and turns towards me. “You have been lying to me.”

  “What?” I sit up straight.

  “You said you weren’t important,” he leans closer to me. “It s
eems you are crucial. In fact, so important that Atticus is personally meeting us for the exchange, and he’s paying me twice what I asked for your safe return.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say.

  “Interesting,” he says, “you have no clue?”

  “No,” I say, “Other than Adam, I have no connection.”

  “You won’t mind if we run a quick scan on you?”

  “Go ahead,” I’m hesitant.

  I place my hand on the car’s receptor. He looks at the monitor.

  “You have some unusual energy spikes and there seem to be some added programs, which aren’t Federation issued.” He rubs his chin and sighs, “I’m going to send this to my tech guy. He’ll be able to tell me more.”

  It takes about fifteen minutes before the tech guy calls Rizzio. He only talks for a few minutes. He turns and looks at me.

  “What do you know about the Federation counsel?” he asks.

  “Um, only what we’re supposed to learn,” I say. “I don’t really understand what you’re asking.”

  “What about your childhood?” he asks.

  “My childhood,” I ask, “What are you looking for?”

  “It seems you are not Federation born,” he says. “You’re online, but you’re not compatible with their systems.”

  “Have you ever experienced glitches?” he says

  “All the time,” I decided to not hide my secrets from him. He seems to know more than I do about myself. “I’m heightened. I can reset, and I dull for a short time, but I always regain my emotions.”

  “There’s more,” he says. “You have an enormous capacity for data. We can’t see any of that data because it’s protected by a sophisticated program that even my guy can’t hack.”

  “Can you access it?” he asks.

  “No, I can’t even access my daily planner half the time,” I say. “I have to study manually. I’ve never passed a test or completed a task by using my programs.”

  “It seems you have been living a life of secrets and lies,” he smiles.

  “I’m good at hiding it,” I say.

  “Does Calder know?”

  “He knew about my heightening,” I say. “But he had himself rebooted.”

  “He decided to forget you,” he says, “and you still love him?”

  “I’ll always love him,” I smile.

  CHAPTER FORTY- FOUR

  Quinn

  “Hey,” Chris grabs me, “let her go!”

  I push and struggle but he is too strong, and I am too hurt. The door slams shut, almost hitting me. I look out the back window; she’s looking at me.

  “Why?” I say out loud, but don’t expect any response.

  “What the Hell,” says Max. “We came all this way to save her and she chooses to stay with him?”

  “Did you see her?” Chris says. “She was a mess. Someone beat the crap out of her. I’m willing to bet she’s protecting someone, or she’s not acting on her own behalf.”

  I close my eyes. In the letter, she said she was going to do whatever it takes to keep me safe. I slam my elbow into the seat, “damn it!”

  “We have to go back,” says Max. “If Rizzio is in town; something major is about to happen.”

  “We need to call the North post and get some backup,” Smith says. He throws his phone to Max., “call!”

  We head back to the hotel. We stop a few streets down and take the back way. We enter the lobby. The clerk looks up from her computer. I pull my gun and point it at her.

  “Where did Rizzio go?”

  Max puts his hand on my shoulder, “ease up. We’ll find her.”

  He shows her, his badge, and she punches the keys on her computer. “We don’t have anyone here by the name of Rizzio.”

  “What about Black?” I say.

  She looks again, “Yes, there is an Emma Black registered to suite 814.”

  We take the elevator. The doors open and we step out into the hallway. It’s empty. We stand in front of the door. Chris kicks it in, and I rush inside. The room is empty. I head to the bed. I pick up the clothes that Emma was wearing earlier. Her shirt has blood on the front, and there is a tear in her pants. I bring her shirt to my face; it smells like her. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

  “No one is here,” Smith says. “They’re all going to be gone.”

  “I have to find her,” I say. “I have to find out.”

  “Do you remember her?” Max asks.

  “No, but I want to,” I say. “Why would I choose to forget her?”

  “You said you couldn’t get her out of your head,” Max says. “You said you wanted your life back.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” I say. “There has to be more.

  “If you ask me,” says Smith. “I think they are going to try and get some ransom money from the Bensons. She is marrying into one of the most powerful families in the Federation.”

  “Yeah,” says Chris, “it makes sense. I bet Benson will pay a fortune to get her back.”

  “But Rizzio doesn’t need money,” I say, “unless it’s a lot of money.”

  “How much can she be worth,” Smith asks, “enough to make Rizzio get involved?”

  “What about Black?”

  “Maybe, he used her to get something from Rizzio,” Chris says, “what could Black want?”

  “Other than getting back at his parents?”

  “He’s in control of the Under,” Smith says. “It could be anything. He could be involved in the breaches.”

  “But he’s already inside the Federation,” I say, “why would he need to break in?”

  “Hey,” says Max. “Where would you stay if you were Rizzio?”

  “If I were that powerful,” says Smith, “I’d be pumping the penthouse.”

  “Exactly,” says Max.

  We step out of the elevator, into a foyer. There is a set of doors, standing open. We cautiously enter the penthouse. I go first; the others follow.

  We spread out. Max goes to the right, and Chris and Smith go to the left. I head towards the balcony. I step down into the living room. It’s empty. There are two glasses of wine and an empty bottle on the table.

  I walk around the furniture and stop. My heart sinks. I see her on the floor, crumpled in a pool of blood. I charge over, knocking over a chair. I grab her and turn her towards me.

  It’s not her; the hair is the same, and she has a similar build, but this girl is younger. I set her down carefully.

  “Max!”

  He enters the room. “Oh, man.”

  “It’s not her,” is all that I can manage to say.

  Smith comes over and scans the dead girl’s receptor. “Her name is Pam Greene…it’s her sister.”

  “That’s why,” Max says. “She was trying to protect her.”

  “They killed her because of us,” I say. “We have to find her. We have to end this before it’s too late.”

  “Grace,” Max’s voice trembles, “I haven’t been able to get a hold of her.”

  “I’m going to kill them,” I say, “all of them.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Emma

  I look out the window. I don’t want to go back to Adam. I don’t know what to do.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Everything,” I say, “but I can’t go back.”

  “With Benson?” he says.

  “What if I agree to allow you to take my information,” I say, “no questions asked, no restrictions?”

  “You said you couldn’t access it,” he says. “We’d have to extract it, and without the correct program…I couldn’t guarantee you’d survive. My tech guy said he thought he knew how, but there are no guarantees.”

  “I’d rather die than go back to Adam.”

  “What did he do to you?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say.

  “I can’t do it,” he says. “Whatever the information is inside of you, it’s important enough to make Atticus pay top price for it. We migh
t not be able to extract it all.”

  “Please,” I beg.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’d rather let him extract it and then steal it from him…intact.”

  I turn back to the window. All I want to do is die, and everyone else wants me alive, not because they love me or need me but because I am worth too much to them, even Quinn. He doesn’t remember me; all he wants is to understand. How could he love me now? I’m not the same person; at least I hope I’m not.

  We travel for a few more miles. I notice lights in the rear view mirror. I turn around and look. I can’t see the vehicle, but I hope it is not Quinn.

  The car gets closer to us. Rizzio looks concerned. “Hold on!”

  Our car slams forward, as the car behind hits us at full speed. My seat belt locks up, crushing my sore ribs.

  It hits us again, but this time from the driver’s side. Our car swerves. The road is still wet from the rain. We hit the edge, but our driver manages to pull it back onto the road.

  It hits us again. We aren’t as lucky this time. Our car slides and then hits something on the side of the road. We flip and roll down a small embankment.

  I wake up, upside down, dangling from my seat. The safety belt is cutting into my neck. I push against the ceiling and undo my latch. I fall. I land on Rizzio.

  All I can feel is blood. I stumble backward. His face is torn. I can see the bone. I scream. I reach for the door. I try to find the handle, but I’m disorientated. I slam my hand on the glass.

  I can’t get out. I’m screaming. The door gives way, and someone reaches in and grabs me. I don’t look; I just swing my arms. I hit whoever it is hard, but they grab me and drag me away.

  “Stop fighting,” he tightens his grip.

  I kick, hit, squirm and bite. I manage to get loose. I stand and take a step, but fall into the mud. My ankle is ruined.

  “Emma,” he says, “I’m not going to hurt you. I told you to trust me.”

  I look at him; it’s Ian.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, “It would have been a lot easier if you hadn’t jumped out of the car at the hotel. My guy was supposed to bring you back to me. You weren’t ever in any danger.”

  ‘Let me go,” I’m sobbing, “please.”

  “No,” he says, “You’re hurt and you are not thinking straight.”

 

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