“Whhoo hoo! Did you see that? Absolutely beautiful!”
The camera panned away from Arkdone’s ridiculously happy face to the oozing mass that seconds ago was a white rat. One of its pink eyes stared grotesquely from the decapitated head still wobbling upside down.
“The six members of your group whom we have collected have now been implanted with either a trigger,” the camera panned to the brown rat sitting on its haunches nibbling a chunk of cheese. “Or with an explosive.” The camera rolled back to the mutilated body of the white rat.
“Do you see now?”
“Ah, but you may wonder how they might still be alive? Well, I can assure you, they are. I have every intention of playing with my new toys for a while before I let them go and try to find you or each other. Besides, they will be watching DVDs with this same recording. I mean, it’s only fair, right? We may as well lay all our cards out on the table. It’s the right and just thing to do, I’d say. Not that you hold your actions to such high standards.” Arkdone clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing four steps left, four steps right, and back again, as though he truly were deep in thought giving a lecture.
Alik watched him closely trying to place where he’d seen his demeanor before. It wasn’t his handsome physique, but something about the way he moved with skulking grace, like that of—Alik’s eyes narrowed—like that of a snake.
“Meg and Evan Winter, Cole Andrews, Creed Young, Sloan Mor, and that wild dog of yours have all been captured by my Monarchs and brought to my asylum where they have been injected with one of the nanoweapons. Three of them are exploders, three are triggers. You will not know which until it’s too late. The three exploders could all stand side by side and nothing would happen. Same with the three triggers. Even a trigger and an explosive could stand by one another if they are not a match. But how will you know without killing someone? Not exactly the best odds for trial and error.” The Senator smirked at his sick humor.
“The devices are activated when they are in a range of approximately seven feet, just as you saw happened to the rats a moment ago. So, you see, I have put a lot of thought and effort in making sure the Winter Clan is no more. You cannot be together without killing three of your family members.” The Senator was looking directly into the camera as he spoke. His eyes glinted with pure evil and for a split second, the pupils seemed to change into black diamond shaped slits—like the reptile Alik saw in him.
“Ripping your family apart, literally, has truly been a delight. You have always been your strongest when you’re together. Now, togetherness will rip you to shreds.
“Know I’ve thought of every contingency; don’t even try to remove the devices as they are too embedded and manipulating them would cause the person irreparable damage.” Arkdone burst into an all-out-laughter. “On second thought, you go right ahead and work on removing the devices. You’ll end up with six vegetables or dead bodies. I’ll be watching to see what you decide to do, but either way, I will have won.” He tipped his head to the side, and licked his bottom lip with a two-pronged tongue that darted out of his mouth faster than a blink. “You never should have tried to steal from Williams, Margo. Don’t you know there are some people in this world whose radar you want to stay far, far below? You chose poorly, and now the children you fought all these years to protect will pay the price for your arrogance.” He raised one brow before adding, “Enjoy your first night home from the hospital, Dr. Winter. I’ll be in touch.” Arkdone raised one gloved hand in a surreal wave and the screen went black.
No one said anything, as they stared at the blank screen.
“Dear Lord, please help us,” Margo murmured through the tears that slipped silently down her ashen face.
Chapter 39 Cell #1—Meg Winter
Meg felt her willowy white wings unfurl and was unafraid of the strength she felt emanate from them. She stretched them wide and looked over either shoulder to see them burst with iridescence even in the dim glow of light. Feeling the joy of self-acceptance she leaped into the sky and beat her wings down with one powerful push against the air. So enamored of her prowess, she wasn’t paying attention to her space and paid the price.
Smack!
The top of her head cracked into a stone ceiling hard enough for her to forget to pump her wings. She came crashing down to the packed dirt floor. Thankfully her instincts weren’t completely dead. She had curled her wings in tightly to her body so at least she was laying on her much bruised side and not a broken appendage.
Meg tentatively touched the crown of her head where she found it hurt terribly. Her hand came away bloody. Two warm, wet streams slipped down her forehead, and into her eyes. All she saw was red now, the blood stinging as it veiled her dark eyes.
Panic slipped up into her throat in the form of bile. Meg pushed off the ground and stood on shaky legs. She ran with her arms outstretched, searching for a wall in the darkness. She didn’t have to run too far before her fingers felt rough brick. She positioned her right palm against it and began walking forward—fingers desperately feeling for a door. The darkness choked her with two clawed hands yanking at the corners of her blood-filled eyes. Just as she was beginning to worry she must have already walked past this point, she felt the rough brick morph into the cold scales of a huge reptile. Stilling, she touched the spot with both hands and felt it move under her fingers. Terror scraped its nails on a chalkboard and screamed in her ears. Meg screamed back.
It spoke.
“Be calm. I am here to make right the wrongs. Choose to walk beside me and I’ll give you real wings.”
Meg shook her head, confused as she backed away from the scales and voice.
“I’m dreaming, or…I’ve been drugged.” She mumbled through dry, cracking lips.
“Feel them for yourself.”
Meg concentrated on the muscles in her back and imagined stretching wings wide. She reached out with her left hand to touch over her right shoulder. There they were. Real wings.
“Is it just a dream, Meg?” the voice seemed to linger on the “s” sounds as it spoke.
“What are you?” Meg asked, curiosity winning over terror.
“I am Senator Donovan Arkdone. Please allow me to turn some lights on for us.”
Without even the sound of a click, the lights rose as though a dimmer switch slid up slowly, giving her eyes time to adjust.
“My goodness, you did hurt yourself quite badly.”
Meg blinked painfully as her eyes tried to adjust to what she was seeing. An attractive middle-aged man stood in the brick room with her. He was dressed as though he was heading to a business casual meeting. He had on blue jeans, dress shoes and a button up, long-sleeved, black shirt.
She scanned the room and saw no door, no windows and no furniture.
“Where am I?”
“You are at my home. It used to be an insane asylum, but I find that it has all the creature comforts I need, including plenty of space for guests.” He waved a perfectly manicured hand at her.
“How did I get here?”
“I brought you, of course.”
“Where is my family?”
“Oh, isn’t that an excellent question?”
“Where are they?” Meg demanded, starting to shake the fogginess she felt moments before.
“Some of them are here in my home. The rest, I would only be venturing a guess. Allow me to introduce myself before we begin.”
“Begin what?” Meg took a moment to glance down at what she was wearing and if she had anything that could be used as a weapon.
“The games, of course.”
“Look, I don’t know who you are or what you want, but I demand you let me and my family go.”
Donovan Arkdone grinned.
Then he chuckled.
Then he tossed his head back and let out a full-on, bellowing laugh.
“My dear girl, you are fun, aren’t you? No wonder my colleague carried such a torch for you!”
Meg was tired of this l
oon’s ranting. Now that she was coming out of the fuzziness of whatever it was he used to drug her, she was getting sick of his Mad-Hatter speak. She ran up to him and spun ready to plant a hard kick at his laughing throat.
His laughter stopped as he grabbed Meg’s ankle and held it before pulling it high above his head, holding Meg upside down with one scalding hand. Meg could feel the searing pain on the skin where he touched her.
“I’ll have none of that, metahuman.” Arkdone snarled and tossed her aside like a rancid rag doll. Her body hit the brick wall at least five feet above the ground and landed with a sickening smack onto the concrete floor.
Meg gasped trying to take a breath after having had the wind knocked out of her.
“What are you?”
“What do you think I am?” The lips on Donovan Arkdone face pulled back into a cruel grin, paused, then continued to pull further back until his face was disproportionately wide.
“I think you’re a nightmare,” Meg breathed feeling the room tilt beneath her battered body.
“You have no idea how accurate you are,” the face taunted.
Meg’s world teetered but she wasn’t done fighting. She took a slow, calming breath in and fixed herself until she was sitting upright, back against the same wall that probably sported her blood as her arms and legs were bruised and scratched up. Tentatively, she reached up to feel her back, searching for the wings she felt there moments ago.
There was nothing.
Oh shit.
“The wings you’re searching for can be yours again, and forever. All you have to do is give yourself to me.”
“What?”
“I can heal your wounds and give you wings with the wave of my hand, but you have to give something to me in return,” Arkdone asserted, his face shifting back into its previous, normal size.
Meg knew she needed to stall to give herself a moment to catch her breath because she was about to try something that would take a lot of energy.
“What do you want in return?”
“You…I want you to willingly follow me. If you do, you’ll live in luxury, have slaves to do your bidding, wear the finest clothing and visit the spa as often as you’d like. All you have to do is say, ‘I chose to give myself to Arkdone.’ Simple enough?”
“You don’t want my company,” Meg pushed her influence as hard as she could. “You find me boring and undeserving of your attention. You have decided you may as well release me and my family.”
With the last sentence, Meg pushed her level of concentration to the most intense point she’d ever felt channeled by abject fear at the illogically strong creature that had her trapped.
Meg felt his vile sulfuric stench trying to dive into her mind. Instantly, her head burst into pain and her nose gushed blood.
“Well, now isn’t that a neat little parlor trick you’ve learned, metahuman?” the monster called Arkdone cooed. “I knew you were an empath, but Kenneth had kept this aspect of your gift a secret from me. His obsession with you is truly understandable…I’m starting to develop a tongue sore for you myself.”
Meg was holding her head with one hand and pinching the bridge of her nose with the other. She was in so much physical pain the echoing vibrations of the monster’s voice rubbed like sandpaper against her throbbing, raw brain.
All she wanted was to reach out to Creed for his strength, but she was in so much pain, she was completely debilitated. She had to focus on her next breath and count the metronome thrum in her head.
“Well, I really ought to go greet the others now. Oh, by the way, I would not advise you to try your parlor trick on me again, not if you value the ability to create intelligible thought patterns. I’ll come back after a while. I have a special friend who is dying to see you! I’ll bring him by later. You’re not looking too well, Meg. Maybe you ought to rest until then?
“One last thing, I’m leaving this laptop here. You’ll want to press play and watch a very important message before I return. ” The Senator shrugged. “Or don’t. It really doesn’t matter to me either way.”
Arkdone turned and did a straight leap up into the air, landing gracefully on a ledge Meg hadn’t noticed before ten feet up the brick wall. He casually waved, opened a door there, walked through and slammed the door shut behind him. A metallic click echoed throughout the otherwise empty cell. Meg was suffering so badly, for a split second her tormented brain went where it should never have gone….
Chapter 40 Alik?
Alik stared at the black screen of the laptop. His new violet blue eyes flashed with fury.
“Oh, Theo what are we going to do?” Margo shook her head, feeling helpless.
“I honestly don’t know. I mean, we can’t show this to the police. He called the children metahumans several times. If we get police involved, everything will spin out of control. They’ll need to involve the FBI. There’s no way Greg Burns could help us once it gets out that there’s a new breed of humanoids. They’d collect Alik, Farrow and Danny to begin the testing immediately and we’ll never see the others again.” Theo was rambling, and he knew it. He just couldn’t wrap his head around this new villain.
“What’s a mind controlled Monarch?” Farrow asked. She’d started pacing the room gently patting Danny on the back and feeling more relaxed as he breathed against her neck.
“If it’s what I think it is,” Margo offered, “it is horrible. Children are tortured until their minds break. Then their handlers act as programmers and create multiple personalities separate from the core personality. Those dissociative states, the other personalities, are trained to be beneficial to their programmers. The handler uses some trigger to make that personality come out and take over the body to do their bidding.”
“How do you know so much about Monarchs?”
Margo sighed deeply. “The reason Donovan Arkdone looked familiar to me was because he was a guest speaker at my university. Part of his lecture was on the MK-ULTRA that evolved into the Monarch Program.”
“I read about this when I studied World War II. In the mid-1930s Joseph Mengele was an SS physician at the Nazi concentration camp in Auschwitz. He is credited as the primary developer of trauma based mind control. He performed horrific experiments on prisoners—children, too. He was known as ‘the Angel of Death’.” Alik spoke in a disconnected monotone. Farrow watched his lips turn a bright red against the pallor of his face. His eyes glowed angrily their new magnificent violet blue.
“Alik, are you feeling okay?” Farrow could sense something was happening to him.
“Ali?” Margo began, having stopped long enough to watch her son’s face.
“Maybe you ought to lie down, Alik,” Theo offered, the physician’s calming tone coming out in his voice.
“He and Williams have been working together to create Monarch slaves who are also Metahumans. And now he’s kidnapped half our family and is playing with them like expendable toys for his amusement!”
Alik stood, every muscle in his body tight, but not one tremble dared shake him. His bright eyes scanned the room slowly and he began to see the memories of the room superimposed with what was really there. He saw his sister sit on the sofa with a piece of paper and a pencil. Her mouth was moving, but Alik couldn’t hear what she was saying. He was only able to watch the memory vibrations the room was giving him. He saw Sloan sit down near her. Moments later his sister was up walking toward the kitchen. She came out with a wrench in one hand and hurried toward the front door—her mouth moving as though talking to the person on the other side. There was the contractor. Meg moved to hand him the wrench when another man, the one from the video, attacked the contractor with wicked speed, snapping his neck.
Then he saw his sister being jumped by another guy with a syringe in one hand. She was injected then flung to the ground. The puddle of blood there was his sister’s. Seven more men clamored into the house running in different directions. One grabbed Sloan, injecting her then tossing her aside. Four Monarchs ran down the hallway. A
lik moved to follow them.
Outside his vision, his family was calling to him, panicked. “Alik? What are you doing? What are you looking at?” Margo was terrified at her son’s bizarre behavior. Farrow passed the drowsy baby to Theo and ran after Alik.
Alik saw the veiled images of two men tackling Cole just as he had finished pulling on a T-shirt. One held him down; the other injected him in the neck. In Alik’s vision, Cole’s mouth was wide in a silent scream.
Another ran to Meg’s room and shot Maze with a dart, no doubt laced with the same drug that was in the syringes. The last Monarch ran into Evan’s room, hitting him with the syringe in the neck as he reached to adjust the temperature of his shower.
Alik saw them dragging the bodies of his family to the living room where a van had been pulled up to the front door. Each Monarch grabbed a body and carried them to the van, tossing them in as if they were bundles of old clothes and not living, breathing people. Creed was loaded last, but the four Monarchs who went to get him from what was obviously the barn were bloody from their efforts. It took four strong Monarchs to take him, even by surprise. All four were carrying him and tossed him into the back on top of the others.
A second van was filled with the remaining Monarchs and both pulled away from the empty house.
Alik walked to his sister’s pool of blood and stared at it, seeing a gossamer version of her overlaid reality.
“I saw everything.”
“What? What just happened to you Alik?” Farrow asked, confused.
“I saw it as though I was standing here in the room while it happened. I don’t know how it worked, but it was like watching a silent movie that superimposed the present. Memories. It was like I…this sounds crazy…”
“Go on Alik. This is probably your gift. Tell us.” Margo encouraged. Alik looked over at his mother and felt such a wave of love for her. Sometimes, he wished he could be like Danny and curl up in his mom’s arms as he used to.
Winter's Warrior: Mark of the Monarch (Winter's Saga #4) Page 19