Ace of Clubs stood over the other girls and pointed back at Cynthia.
“Did you ladies know what young Cynthia did? She killed her Mummy’s boyfriend. Held his head between her pretty little hands and she watched the life drain out of his face. Sucked him dry, like a parasite.”
She felt the tears burning her eyes and dripping down her cheek.
If there were one memory she could erase, it would be the memory of that night.
It was the night her future was taken from her. She was transformed into a demon. She could never have a normal life.
Cynthia had no choice, but to be that demon, for Bronson Carlyle. He nurtured it and helped it grow. He gave her the chance to be her true, darker self. He made her strong and gave work to distract her from her self-pity. It wasn’t the future she had imagined all those years before, it was the future that was handed to her.
“Oh, don’t cry now Cynthia.”
There was something about the way he said her name.
Ace of Clubs stepped closer.
“Now, now, don’t cry. I want you angry. Angry is what makes your skin potent, isn’t it?”
She’d written that in the book.
He stood in front of her. “Maybe this will change your mood.”
Ace of Club reached behind his head and drew the zipper up on the back of his hood and he peeled it off.
Tony.
Tony Carlyle stood in front of her with the leather mask in his hand and a smile on his face. He tossed it onto Mirages cage and turned to smile at Cynthia.
“You can’t tell me that you didn’t realize, it was me?”
“How…?” Cynthia stammered with eyes wide.
He tousled his sweaty hair and returned to the cabinet where he was emptying the draws.
“Why?” Cynthia growled.
“Because I needed to get close to you. I was trying to tell you, at the zoo.” He turned to grin at her with his perfect teeth. “I’m the leopard, Cynthia Abell.”
Chapter 27
It was late in the afternoon, when Matt and Ryan Chen, pulled up at the street closest to Ace’s warehouse museum. They were followed by a carload of Carlyle’s henchmen.
The two cars emptied and Matt led the men through the driveways and store buildings to the one that Kara had taken him to.
“When I got your message, I knew he must have Cynthia as well.” Matt said to Ryan, who followed a step behind.
“Do you think Miss Abell and my sister are alive?” Ryan panted as the jogged to the side of the building.
“You three,” Matt ordered, “take that high side window. Pull over a few of those crates to get up.” He looked at Ryan and the remaining two henchmen. “Follow me, but watch yourselves.”
Matt and the three men jogged the front roller doors of the warehouse and squatted silently in front.
“We need to distract anyone inside so they look to us, instead of the boys coming in the side window.”
Ryan nodded.
One of Carlyle’s henchmen presented a pry bar, to try and lift the door.
The man shoved the tip of the bar under the door and his face showed that there was resistance. The door was locked.
There was a creak as the metal bent.
Then a gun shot.
Bang!
The shot came from inside the warehouse.
Matt locked eyes with the henchman who was trying to lift the door. The man’s expression changed from determination to confusion.
“Bruce?” Matt hissed.
The henchman slumped toward him.
“He’s hit!” Ryan said grabbing the man and pulling him back from the door.
Bang!
The second shot sounded from inside. Bang! Then another.
Matt could tell from the resonance in the warehouse and the rate of fire, that the weapon was a pistol using hollow point bullets, similar to his own firearm. This persuaded Matt to believe that there was in fact, only one shooter. Which didn’t suit Ace of Clubs. Tony Carlyle had proved himself to be theatrical and surrounded by a lot of trigger-happy goons. Matt couldn’t imagine him holed up in a warehouse alone, firing a pistol from behind the door.
Matt decided he was taking a risk, but he yelled to the henchmen around the side of the building.
“It’s not him! This guy is a decoy! Take him alive!”
He turned to Ryan, who knelt over the body of the fallen henchman. “He’s alive, Mr Claire.”
Matt nodded and returned his attention to the warehouse door.
The door was locked and guarded from the inside, Cynthia and Kara probably weren’t being held there.
If they aren’t here, we need to know where they are…
Bang!
Another bullet ripped through the tin wall above their heads.
They couldn’t just sit here all afternoon being shot at. They needed to either get the two women out, or find out where Tony had taken them.
Bang!
Another bullet tore a hole in the roller door.
Matt knew that they couldn’t just sit there. Either the man inside was going to run out of bullets or Tony had left the man with enough to keep reloading for a long siege.
“Dammit!” Matt grabbed the pry bar and began to try and lift the door. When Ryan and the other henchman saw what he was doing they jumped up too and began to rattle on the tin walls and roller doors confusing the shooter inside.
Bang!
A bullet whizzed passed him as he tried to work the lock.
Another shot and then another.
These shots passed through walls where Ryan and the henchmen had been making noise. The man inside was obviously getting nervous.
Finally there was a crunch as the door lock gave way, but before Matt could lift it there was a final dull gunshot.
Matt lifted the roller door fearlessly and drew his pistol.
The warehouse was dark and cluttered with old cabinets and wooden tea chests.
He couldn’t see the shooter in the darkness.
“Sir!” It was one of Carlyle’s henchmen who had come in via the window. He stepped out of the dimness of the warehouse and gestured that Matt should take a look.
Matt followed the man to a place behind some empty shelves.
“Saw him do it, just as you guys got the door open,” the man said.
In front of them was a slumped figure in a clown mask, sitting in a pool of his own blood. The goon had shot himself in the mouth to avoid interrogation.
Loyal to the last, or mad…
“Shit!” Matt kicked the shelf in front.
Ryan and the other henchman gathered around the body.
“What now?” Ryan said leaning back against a cabinet.
Matt raised his eyebrows and rubbed at his smooth chin. He told the henchmen to search the place for anything useful while he put his gun away and wandered out to the entrance and sat on the concrete floor.
One of the henchmen had brought the car to help his wounded friend.
Matt just wished he could do something for his. He and Cynthia had been friends for many years. He had only started working for Bronson Carlyle a year before her and they had been partnered for all that time. She was like a little sister.
“What about this girl, Mirage? She is different like them, yes?” Ryan sat next to Matt.
“Yeah, she’s Post-Human…” Matt grumbled.
“Maybe she will come to their aid, the same way Kara came for Miss Abell.”
Matt chuckled. “That would be a miracle, mate, but I think Cynthia and Mirage have already burned their bridges.”
Ryan shrugged and stared out into the golden afternoon light. “Where do you think he would take them?”
“Where?” Matt lifted his head and looked around and shrugged. “It’s a big city, Ryan. Where do you start to look? It’s not like they can leave a trail of bread crumbs.”
That was when the idea struck him.
“A trail.”
“What?”
&nbs
p; “A trail, Ryan. They had to leave a trail. Some evidence that they were storing all those things here, right?”
Ryan shrugged.
“According to Cynthia and your sister, this place was fully powered and running constant generators to maintain tanks of human remains. That means that they would have needed more than a car or simple truck to transport the material. She said there was flayed Post-Human skin and tanks of formaldehyde. That requires special transportation.”
Matt jumped up off the cement floor and looked around at the surroundings more closely.
“A truck.” He said waving his finger. “Or several trucks with specific purpose.”
“Purpose?” Ryan looked confused.
Matt gestured to the size of the warehouse roller doors. “We are looking at a large space that was previously filled with a bunch museum quality remains, at least that is what we’ve been told.”
Ryan nodded and looked around.
“Now, if you consider what the personal value of these items might be and the fragility of some of the preserved items. Add that to the potential size of the items and the fact that they would be considered to be human remains. And don’t forget the fact that they cannot be caught with human remains. That incriminates them.”
“So, more than one vehicle then?”
“Definitely. Special vehicles. Trucks or vans with either refrigeration or the ability to transport fragile material.”
Ryan stood and looked hopeful. “And two live women.”
“Yes,” Matt was turning in circles, running his hands through his hair, “and they will be all heading in the same direction.”
“So we just get Mr Carlyle to send out the word to his people monitoring traffic, or someone in a helicopter to look for the convoy!” Ryan was smiling, filled with renewed hope.
Matt wandered out onto the dirt drive way at the front of the warehouse and got down on his knees and assessed the tire marks in the gravel.
“Better than that, mate, we have residual tire marks here. There are at least two vehicles, possibly three. I know people that can scan these and give us vehicle profiles from them.” He got up and glanced at Ryan. “We have our bread crumbs, my friend.”
Matt drew his phone from his jacket pocket and made the calls. It was now only a matter of time.
Chapter 28
The operating table had been chained vertically to the wall in the truck and there were more chains around Cynthia’s body. Tony and his masked goons were not taking any chances with her.
The back of the truck was cluttered with boxes and some lose items. Two of the loose items were the wire cages containing Mirage and Kara. As far as Cynthia could tell from interior, they were in a standard removal truck. It was very dark, though. She could only see briefly, when a golden shaft of light broke through cracks around the door.
Antony was driving them all to a new location.
Cynthia had lost track of time, but she was fairly certain that they had been driving for at least and hour. She had nodded off for a little while, due the drug Jules had given her back at the bar, but now she was wide awake again and listening to one of the women sobbing at her feet.
“Are you okay?” she asked, immediately feeling silly.
A strangled voice came from her left. “I…guess.” It was Mirage.
“Those cages don’t look very comfortable. I’m glad they gave me the one with leg room.” She joked.
Mirage sniffed and tried to laugh.
“So, your name is Courtney? I think I caught it earlier.”
“Yeah. I remember you, Deadfall. I’m pretty sure my ex-boyfriend wanted me to kill you.”
Cynthia sighed. “I think I still have the limp to prove it.”
Courtney chuckled a little.
“My name is Cynthia. Have you and Kara met?”
“Not officially.” Courtney sniffed.
“Hello.” Kara croaked. “I’m pretty sure we dated the same guy once.”
Cynthia’s blood began to boil again. She was still processing the truth.
Tony was Ace of Clubs.
He was the black clad villain that stormed Chinatown and he was the mastermind behind the zoo incursion. Last she heard, the authorities were still locating the freed animals and treating wounded civilians.
She was also annoyed at herself, for actually deciding to throw caution to the wind and attempt to like a guy. The idea of trying to be in a relationship with someone was incredibly daunting for her. She had so many trust issues after her mother’s failed relationships. And her personal condition didn’t help her confidence either.
All this time, taking the lives of people for Bronson Carlyle. She hadn’t killed many, but every time she was reminded of what kind of a monster she was.
Who am I, to think I deserved a normal relationship? Then it occurred to her. It wasn’t me, it was him.
“You still awake?” Courtney whispered from below her.
“Yeah.”
“You okay?”
Cynthia swallowed. “Something just occurred to me. I really liked that guy and I didn’t know why.”
There was silence as the others waited for her to finish.
“I don’t have anything to do with men…in the relationship way. I never have, because of the way I am. There was no way I could suddenly want to be with a man. I don’t think it was me. I think maybe it was him. I felt…something.”
“Drawn to him? Like it was right.”
“Yeah.” Cynthia sighed. “He must produce super-hormones or something.”
Kara groaned. “It makes sense. That’s how I felt. I’m not exactly the most trusting person. It would take a little more than a smile and pretty eyes. He’s like us and he doesn’t know.”
“Maybe he does. Maybe he hates what he is.” Courtney added. “Since we are going to die, I thought I better apologise for trying to kill you. I remember you said something about our kind sticking together. I regret not taking your advice. Things would have turned out very different.”
Cynthia took a deep breath.
“Love can make you blind.” She closed her eyes. “Apparently. I’ve heard that in movies. They say it can make you do all kinds of wonderful and stupid things.”
Kara laughed. “Look at the three of us. Ace got into our heads and manipulated us so easily. We are pathetic.”
“I killed for that arsehole.” Courtney muttered.
“In a way he was right,” Cynthia looked down at the two dark shapes of the women in their cages. “We were weak. Our weakness is the fact that we want to belong, that we want a purpose and some normality. Our weakness is that we are different from all the others. Ever since we developed our different abilities our prospect of a ‘happily ever after’ has been dim.”
“But, united we are strong? Is that what you are saying?” Courtney said angrily. “I think we might be past the part where we unite and show strength.”
Kara sighed. “Never give up hope.”
“Kara’s right, Courtney. We don’t know if one of these arseholes is going to screw up.” Cynthia tugged at her restraints.
She was in tight and the plastic strapping stung her skin where it dug into her flesh. The other two girls were in a worse position than she was. They were jammed tightly into their wire cages. The narrow space they were filling would have been too small to house a dog.
Courtney took a deep breath in the dark. “Before, when I was human, I wasn’t special.” Cynthia looked down at the dark shape that spoke. “No one saw me. No one liked me. Courtney Kennedy was a shy girl, who was pale and uninteresting. The teachers didn’t see me, the boys didn’t notice me and I didn’t have the confidence to make friends.”
“You became angry?” Cynthia closed her eyes.
“Yes.” Courtney sighed. “When the changes came I was scared and I didn’t understand. My parents brought me to a doctor who gave me antibiotics. My father thought I was pretending to get attention. I hurt. My whole body shook.”
“I
remember it.” Kara whispered.
The truck tipped to the side as it took a sharp turn.
“It took weeks to work out my abilities. I felt new and strong, but I hadn’t figured out how to make people see things. Until I decided to try and speak to a boy named Nick. I was so nervous, and I wished that I was pretty. That he’d be interested in me. That was when I first projected the image of an attractive woman into someone’s mind.” Courtney chuckled to herself. “It turned out to be a pop star I had seen on the front of a magazine at the supermarket. I became this woman I didn’t even know and this boy almost wet himself and couldn’t speak. I was so flattered I didn’t know what to say either,” she sighed. “Then he called me by that girl’s name and I realized that things weren’t quite right. After a while I learned to project different appearances into everyone’s minds. And they loved me. They were interested in me, boys wanted me, girls were jealous of me, but none of them saw my real face. They had forgotten about ordinary Courtney Kennedy. Even my parents; I toyed with them too. I was such a small and uninteresting part of their lives. I hated everyone. I became more than angry. I was filled with rage. I was so alone and no one would see me.”
Kara shifted in her cage. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” Cynthia felt sorry for Mirage, but she saw her own story in Courtney’s. “I think all three of us are more alike than you think. We all suffered when our lives changed and we all live according to how our abilities make us feel. Courtney, you have obviously been driven by anger. You hate everyone because of the way they made you feel. I have always been followed by guilt for the things that I’ve done. I’ve been punishing myself for years because I took a life when the change first took me.”
The truck hit some potholes in the road and jumped about.
“Greed.” Kara interrupted. “Mine would be greed. I have used my abilities to prove to myself and everyone else, that there is nothing I cannot take. I always had nothing. My family was poor and then my father died and my aunt took my brother to Australia. I had my mother, but she was hollow and began to forget things after father died. When I was fifteen, I was taking care of her. I had nothing of my own until the change came. Then I could have everything. So, I think greed has driven my life and paved the road I have taken.”
Deadfall: A Post-Humans Story Page 16