Sifters (Sifters Series Book 1)

by Shane Scollins

“How?”

  “No idea.”

  “Where is he?”

  “It’s being handled.”

  Arlon paced. “No, that’s not good enough. I need to know your plans. There’s no plausibly deniability here, Tallon. We, I need to know.”

  Tallon shook his head. “It has to be handled a certain way.”

  “No,” he yelled. “It has to be handled my way.”

  “You have no idea how to handle this, Arlon. You have no idea what it takes. This is what I do, this is my job, and I do it well. I know how to play this.”

  Arlon touched his palm to his forehead. “Tallon, this is the whole thing right here. If this gets out, it will ruin us. It will ruin everything. This is beyond your pay grade now. This can affect the mayor, the presidency, the entire society. Don’t you understand? If this gets out, if this gets out to the public, it can ruin us. It will ruin everything.”

  “I understand.”

  “I’m not sure you do! You don’t seem too upset about it.”

  “Arlon, there is a way to handle these things. Properly. And there is a way to screw this up. Royally. Panic is no way to handle anything. Have I ever let you down before?”

  Arlon shook his head slowly. “This is not the time to test my faith in you.”

  Tallon couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something hidden within this conversation. He was not psychic by any stretch, but he had a good gut. He had street smarts and strong survival instincts. And something here was not feeling right. “I’ve never given you any reason to question my actions. Why are you doing so now?”

  Arlon moved behind his desk. His body language was all a wrong. He was nervously twitching his fingers. His upper lip slightly wavered. Tallon knew he was hiding something. This whole conversation suddenly felt like they were talking about two different things.

  “Arlon, you know me. I don’t pull punches and I don’t play games. If you’re not being honest with me, I’m going to be very unhappy.”

  Arlon looked at him in surprise. “I’m not hiding anything.”

  Tallon took a step closer. “Bullshit. You’re always hiding something. Your entire life is a lie. Tell me what you’re angling on here or I won’t be happy.”

  Arlon raised his chin. “Is that some sort of veiled threat?”

  “If I was going to threaten you, it wouldn’t be so subtle.”

  “I’ve let you get away with things because you were good at your job. But this situation has to be handled the exact way I, and my associates, need this to be handled. I could make certain things very uncomfortable for you.”

  Tallon flexed his jaw. “Is that a threat?” He uncrossed his arms and leaned on the desk. “I don’t have to tell you, making threats against me is not a smart idea.”

  Arlon scrambled into a desk drawer and pulled out a gun. “Step back!”

  Tallon smiled. “You’re going to shoot me? In the office?”

  Arlon’s hands shook as he tried to be steadfast. “I can say you threatened me. You’re armed, I was afraid for my life.”

  “Really, Arlon? You’re in this much of a panic mode? Look, we can do this your way.” Tallon looked away for a second to the door, then moved in a flash on Arlon and snatched the gun from his unsteady hands. “Sit your ass in the chair.” Tallon removed the magazine from the pistol and un-chambered the round before tossing the useless gun on the desk.

  Arlon sat down in a huff. He tried to maintain some semblance of control, but Tallon saw right through it. “What’s really going on here, Arlon? There’s more to this than you’re telling me.”

  “Tallon, this is a bad time. Things are leaking, people are nervous. We’re losing our grip. The fear of another uprising is big right now, and you know the elections are coming.”

  “So you pull a gun on me in the office?”

  “I thought you figured it out.”

  Tallon turned his head. “Figured what out?”

  Arlon waved his hand. “This whole mess is just crazy.”

  “Figured out what, Arlon?”

  “Nothing. Did I say something?”

  Tallon knew Arlon was hiding something and he wasn’t very good at it. “What’s really going on out there on Long Island? What’s really going on with Westerberg?”

  Arlon met his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re suddenly very nervous about those undiagnosed kids. They’re just supposed to be kids being fast-tracked to high end careers, but something’s a lie in there. Isn’t it?”

  Arlon looked at him but didn’t speak for a long stretch. Then he sighed. “They want you out.”

  “Who?”

  “The Steering Committee. They’ve established a new security group, a larger group. They don’t think one man can handle it anymore.”

  Tallon laughed. “Are you talking about that joint task force the mayor was squawking about in that presser?”

  Arlon nodded. “I wanted you to be part of it. But they want new hands on this.”

  Tallon stood upright. “That’s a bad idea.”

  “It’s out of my control.”

  “I thought you were CEO?”

  Arlon bristled. “I am, but the Steering Committee pays my salary.”

  “You can’t have a group, bound by law, do what I do for this company.”

  “Who says they’d be bound by law?”

  “The mayor is going to approve something like that on his record? It would ruin his political career.”

  “Well, it’s not like the task force is going to be a public entity. They’ll have certain flexibilities while working for Cortech.”

  “So what you’re saying is that I’m out of a job?”

  Arlon nodded. “I’m sorry, Tallon. I’ve approved a handsome severance package. All the money I promised you until the end of the year will be paid in full, plus a nice bonus, all in cash.”

  Tallon took a deep breath. As much as he wanted to be angry, this was actually a bit of good luck. He could get out of here sooner than expected.

  Chapter 13

  Dia waited patiently for a gap in the traffic large enough so she could speed across the four-lane highway. After what seemed like forever, she was able to shoot across the road and jump up the curb to the cracked and crumbling sidewalk.

  She wasn’t sure where to go next. There was no way she was leaving the city without Ray. Chloe’s brother could kiss her ass, if he could catch it.

  She was no dummy. Having spent half her life evading Preppers, zealots, and other nasty types, she had no doubt she could keep away from some muscled-up city hard-on. What she had to do now was learn her way around this city as quickly as possible. She needed to know where things were, good hiding places, and a few other choice locations around the school.

  On her trusty aluminum steed, she coursed through the veins and arteries of New York City. Through the day and well into the night, she weaved into traffic and over sidewalks. The towering skyscrapers were sometimes disorienting in their vaulted grandness, but they made great markers. The rough, dirty streets were sometimes distracting in their broken grittiness, but they kept her on the balls of her feet. Dodging potholes and taxis was an art unto itself.

  Paying little attention to the people she passed by, she kept watch on the speeding cars and lumbering buses. One false move on these streets and she’d be road-kill. Judging by how long and hard she’d been pedaling, she guessed she’d gone somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty miles, give or take.

  Finally, she took a break and sat on a bench, nestled in front of a tall stone wall at the north edge of Central Park. She was almost out of water, so she strolled over to a nearby fountain and filled up her plastic bottle, drinking her fill before topping off. Then she chowed down on some peanuts and raisins and sat back to let her leg muscles relax.

  Sleep was coming at her like a freight train on a greased rail. But she had no idea where to go. Chloe said her brother was almost never home. She could bike there in about fifteen minutes. And even
if he showed up, she could lie her way out of it and say she was gathering her things and just fell asleep. But it was dark already, and it could end up a wasted trip.

  Ignoring her better judgment, she closed her eyes just for a moment. Maybe a few minutes of sleep would refresh her. With her last bit of energy, she reached over, uncoiled her bike lock, and secured it around the bench. Then she used her backpack as a pillow and rested her eyes.

  * * *

  Dia woke up in full daylight, startled by the movement. The sun was shining brightly, people walked all around, but no one paid her any mind. She’d only meant to catch a few winks. Cleary she’d caught more than a few, sleeping the entire night and well into the morning. Her body must have really needed the rest.

  As she sat up, checking to make sure her backpack was undisturbed, she couldn’t help but notice how well rested she was. Oddly enough it was one of the best night’s sleep she’d had in a long time.

  Pondering the plan she and her father had painstakingly constructed to get Ray out of that school, she felt lost. Exactly how she was going to pull it off alone, she didn’t know. The concept in her head suddenly seemed implausible if not impossible.

  Years ago in order to get Ray into the annex, they pretended he was the son of James and Kate DeRomeo, who were neighbors down the street. They were lottery winners, given one of the golden tickets that few common people received in order to move into the cities.

  After a sip of water, she unlocked her bike and slowly rode away. There were another several blocks to get where she needed to be.

  Which families won the lottery was purported to be random luck, but it later came to be known that there was nothing random about it. They only chose the well connected, well financed, or well manicured. Dia’s family didn’t make the list. Her mother was not a naturalized American citizen, so they were left off the initial list. Her father being a lowly auto mechanic didn’t help get them on the final lists.

  The DeRomeos had good connections. They had a very wealthy family member who bought everyone a golden ticket into civilization. And while Dia had no way in, the DeRomeos had lost their son around Ray’s age in the Philadelphia meteor strike. Their son, Damon, was visiting his grandparents when the rock hit Philly and destroyed about eighty percent of the city. Over two million people died that day. It was pretty much the last of the large strikes, and the government had just convinced everyone the worst of the showers were over.

  There were over a thousand strikes in a little over a year. It became a very common occurrence. Dia remembered when mass shootings were the biggest thing Americans used to worry about, but once that first big one hit the Chicago area, and then one hit outside Houston, all bets were off. NASA could not predict them, and no one knew when they were coming. Everyone with a telescope watched the sky and prayed. People used to have meteor shower parties. Getting wasted and watching the sky instead of the television became commonplace. Strangely enough, it brought people closer together at a time when technology was tearing them apart.

  Her parents were thankful the DeRomeos were willing to give Ray a chance. It seemed like a good idea. If only they’d known what the country would turn into once the government had total control, they would have never let him go.

  Ray’s school was on the corner of Madison Avenue and 33rd Street. It was a tall, gray stucco building. It had a large sign that read American Public Academy No. 308. Since the government had taken over all the public schools, they were all numerically named.

  Dia stood, straddling her bike. Her mind would not focus on the task at hand. The plan she’d been mulling seemed dumb now. For the first time in her life, she felt a crisis of confidence coming on.

  Chapter 14

  Tallon left his office for the last time. He didn’t really care about losing his job, he only cared that they put the money he was promised in his account. Originally, he wanted to get out before the end of the year, but now he could get out before the end of the summer. As soon as Chloe was ready, he was taking her away.

  His research into who’d hurt her had turned up nothing. But he still had a few contacts he was waiting to hear from. Nothing nefarious went down in this city without him knowing about it, which is what made this hard to swallow. But maybe it didn’t even matter. Once she was okay, maybe it was best to just leave it all behind and swallow his pride.

  The parking garage was quiet as he walked up to his motorcycle. He threw his leg over the machine and saw three well-built men in special-forces type outfits walking toward him through the main entrance. The largest one, shorter, wider, and just as muscular as Tallon, flexed his jaw and smiled.

  “Well, if it isn’t Tallon Washburn.” The man extended his hand.

  “Frankie Dorn, I thought they blew you up in that Egyptian dust up a few years ago.” Tallon shook his hand.

  “Oh, they did. I took a fifty-caliber round to the shoulder, some shrapnel in my gut, got me a few medals, a big happy discharge from permanent duty, and a nice settlement.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Yeah, you should’ve been so lucky.”

  “What’re you doing here, Frank?”

  Frank arched one of his eyebrows. “Got me a new job.”

  Tallon laughed and rubbed his eyes. “Let me guess, you’re the new goon squad for Cortech.”

  Frank stuck his thumb up. “I heard how you were gettin’ rich running point for Cortech. I didn’t think it was fair that you were the only one from our team to rape the system for some cash.”

  “I’m not the only one.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Pistol is out in LA, he’s got a nice gig out there. And Loco is in Washington doing security for some billionaire diamond mogul.”

  “Well, I guess I’m the last of Alpha to catch on.”

  “Frank, why are you really here? Why’d you take this job?”

  Frank shrugged. “The money is damn good. But you already know that. Besides, we were told someone had to come in and clean up your mess.”

  Tallon winced. “My mess?”

  “Something about a rogue reporter, blah-blah-blah, billions of dollars at stake. I got the official call this morning—got a prelim touch a week ago.”

  “Who ordered you?”

  “Some Cortech steering committee or something, I don’t know. They felt you were out of your league, which you probably are.” He looked to his other two men and smiled. “They called in the real bad asses.”

  Tallon laughed. “Frank, you always were an asshole.”

  “Yeah, I know. But I don’t care.”

  “Of course not. Why would you?”

  Frank smacked his own chest and started to walk away, but stopped and turned back. “But you know, Tallon. Sometimes you have to be an asshole to do an asshole’s job. And sometimes you have to go beyond asshole, straight into sadistic fucker. Not every grizzled former military man can summon the will to beat a cute young girl. Not even me.” Frank saluted and disappeared into the elevator.

  It took a few slow seconds to sink in. Then Tallon felt a fire in him light up like the flick of the trigger on a torch. He was almost too numb to move. One thing he never did was allow emotion to get over on him. But right now he wanted to run up the steps after that elevator and open fire on Frank and his two pals. Because even if he didn’t hurt Chloe, he knew exactly who did.

  Tallon took a few deep breaths, calmed himself, and tried to remember that he needed to be calculated and smart. Emotional decisions lead to demise. He’d spent ten years in the military. Four of them with the most elite fighting force on the face of the Earth. He’s been cleaning up messes for Cortech Industries and freelancing on his own since, all with the goal of making enough money to leave this world behind and retire at a young age somewhere on an island in the Bahamas. He wasn’t about to jeopardize all that work with an emotionally charged mistake.

  He slipped the shaded visor down on his helmet, started his motorcycle, and sped out of the parking garage. Just as he began
to formulate his next move in his head, a black SUV pulled up next to him in slow traffic. The window crept down and the muzzle of a gun jutted out.

  Tallon locked up the brakes as the bullets started to snap from the barrel. The SUV stopped. Horns of traffic blared behind him, and people screamed obscenities as a moment of frozen time passed.

  Tallon leaned the bike, blasted the throttle, and turned a circle as a halo of smoke rose up from his rear tire. He sped head on into traffic of the one-way street. Bobbing and dodging past a blur of cars at breakneck speed, he half expected to feel the familiar punch of a bullet, but it never came.

  At the next block, he turned hard onto Fifth Avenue and tore up the asphalt into the twisting lane that led behind the tall apartment buildings and hi-rise offices that formed two impenetrable walls.

  Tallon watched the end of the alley, waiting to see if the black SUV would come creeping, but it didn’t. He should have known Cortech was not going to leave him alone. He knew too much now, and they were too corrupt to take a chance he’d keep his mouth shut. He was actually a little upset with himself for not assuming they would try to kill him. Clearly, he was getting soft, losing his edge. Civilian life was taking a negative toll. If it weren’t for Chloe’s situation he’d just skip the country and never be seen again.

  He took out his phone and called Ebo. “Hey, Doc, how’s she doing?”

  “No major change yet. The EEG still shows plenty of brain activity. The swelling has gone down some.”

  “Okay, thanks, Doc.”

  “Tallon, there is one other thing.”

  “What is it?”

  There was a long pause. “I got an odd pulse in the EEG so I ran a CAT scan. There’s a DNS signature… it’s in her head.”

  “What?”

  “I was surprised too.”

  “What type?”

  “Judging by the blood tests, I’d say it’s a truth serum.”

  Tallon felt a knot growing in his gut. It was like someone had reached into his body and took a fistful of his stomach and started twisting it. This was the last thing he expected to hear.