Created (Talented Saga)

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Created (Talented Saga) Page 18

by Davis, Sophie


  “Never thought we’d be on opposite sides,” the Captain continued.

  “I never thought you’d break the oath you took to protect the people of the United States,” I shot back, letting too much emotion creep into my voice. I bit my lip to quell the desire to attack.

  “Yes, it does seem that one of us chose the wrong side,” he responded. Something about the way he said it, gave me pause. Had he intentionally used “one” instead of “you?” Or was that just wishful thinking?

  The operatives behind him became antsy, shifting uncomfortably in their heavy boots. I worried someone might get an itchy trigger finger and shoot me despite their orders to the contrary. My eyes shifted, almost involuntarily, to the guns. As if sensing my discomfort, Captain Alvarez gestured for them to lower their weapons. Most did, but a few held out.

  “She’s not going anywhere,” he snapped. “Talia knows it would be pointless to run now.” He emphasized the now, and I again wondered if it was intentional. I tried to reach out to his mind again, but just like before, I couldn’t get past the barricades. Were my talents fading? No, Victoria’s assessment would’ve picked up on that.

  I shifted my focus to a woman standing slightly behind Captain Alvarez, forced her to her knees, and then ordered her to place the barrel of her gun to her temple. No trace of fear showed on her face, and I knew that her will was mine. Why couldn’t I control the Captain?

  “Lyons,” Captain Alvarez snapped, and I released my hold on the operative’s mind. I wasn’t really going to make her shoot herself, I was just putting on a show. I wanted the operatives to remember who and what they were dealing with.

  I forced out a laugh, like I thought making someone commit suicide was funny. I didn’t, it reminded me too much of what I’d done the night my parents were killed.

  “Toss me the gun, Lyons,” the Captain ordered me. “And the knife belt, too; it’s not like you need them.” It’s not like you need them? Didn’t he mean it’s not like you’ll be able to use them? Or it’s not like you’ll be able to get a shot off before one of my men shoots you in the head?

  “Now!” he barked.

  Apparently I was taking too long pondering his words.

  Glaring, I slid the gun across the forest floor. The knife belt followed shortly thereafter. Captain Alvarez gestured for the woman I’d forced to the ground to pick up my weapons.

  “What now? You hand me over to Mac?” I sneered, surprised at my ability to affect flippancy while being captured. No, I reminded myself, not captured. I surrendered. This was my choice, my terms. Of course, if this backfired, I’d have no one to blame but me. I’d worry about that later.

  Captain Alvarez’s hard, appraising eyes softened, and a wave of regret hit me. “In time,” he muttered. I swallowed hard, my pulse raced on a current of fear. What were they going to do to me before Mac arrived?

  “Wilkes, Nichols, take her,” the Captain pointed to someone behind him and the woman who’d taken my weapons, the woman I’d so easily controlled.

  Odd choice, I thought.

  A man with cold blue eyes, Wilkes I assumed, cut through the crowd of operatives and grabbed my injured arm with one beefy paw of a hand. I ground my back teeth to keep from wincing. Nichols didn’t move. She appeared to be both mystified and terrified by me, like I was some dark fairytale beast come to life.

  “That’s an order, Nichols,” Captain Alvarez snapped.

  Hesitantly she walked towards me, taking hold of my free arm. Nichols' grip was slack, like touching me physically pained her. Wilkes pulled me forward with too much force. I focused on my feet so that I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of falling. He halted next to Captain Alvarez.

  “Sir, do you want her with the others?” Wilkes asked.

  “No, keep her separate from the general populace. Put her in a room alone, the one next to the Kelleys,” the Captain replied. He shifted his attention to me, holding my gaze as he spoke his next words. “Be careful, she’s extremely powerful, and not all of us are immune to her talents.”

  He knew I’d tried, and failed, to take control of his mind. Something had been done to him, something that allowed him to block me. I boldly stared back, willing him to say more even though I knew my gifts wouldn’t affect him. Captain Alvarez’s stare became more intense; he was trying to pass a message, I realized.

  I let my mental barriers fall, completely opening my mind to the Captain.

  “The Director’s on his way from D.C. You should have an hour before he arrives. Our orders are to keep all the prisoners contained until he arrives,” Captain Alvarez sent.

  Relief was overshadowed by dread. I wasn’t reading his mind. He was projecting his thoughts into mine, using gifts similar to mine. He’d been infected with the creation drug. The worst case scenario had just been confirmed. Mac had made his army of super-Talents.

  “What then? What does he plan on doing with the prisoners?” I sent back.

  “Those he thinks he can control will be injected. The others killed.”

  No one expletive accurately summed up just how terrifying that prospect was.

  “Yes, sir.” Wilkes nodded his head in a show of respect. “We can handle her.”

  The Captain didn’t spare the operative a second glance. He tapped his pointer finger once against his temple and nodded, at me. I thrust my chin in the air, defiant and proud.

  “The beauty of being human, Captain, is that we were created with free will, the ability to choose. One of us has an hour to exercise that liberty. Maybe it’s not too late … for one of us. The next time we see each other, one of us won’t be so lenient. Tell Mac I look forward to talking to him,” I said, hoping that he caught all the double meanings.

  The Captain’s chuckle held no mirth. “Unfortunately, Talia, it is too late for one of us.”

  This time, I was positive the “one” of us he was talking about was him.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Captain,” I told him.

  He closed his eyes, his chest shook when he inhaled.

  “Get her out of here,” he ordered my guards.

  Wilkes gripped the back of my neck, his fingers digging painfully into the tense muscles. His other hand twisted my arm behind my back as he pushed me forward. Nichols released me, drew her gun, and thrust it between my shoulder blades, in the same spot the bullet had struck me. While there was no visible wound, the impact had left a monster-sized bruise, and the added pressure sent jolts of pain spider-webbing out from the source.

  All the force was unnecessary. I was ready to go with them. Here, in the woods and surrounded by TOXIC operatives, I was unable to do any real damage. Alone, just the three of us in a room, now that was a different story.

  “You might as well ditch the gun. We both know it’s an empty threat,” I said to Nichols as our trio tromped over fallen branches and trampled earth. “Capture, don’t kill – those are your orders, right?” I continued when she didn’t respond.

  I didn’t have the energy or the inclination to taunt my captors, but it distracted me from reality. If I didn’t find a way to escape, find Crane, and get the hell out of here in the next hour, Alex and the Kelleys – the reason I’d been adamant about this mission – would be at TOXIC’s mercy.

  Mac would spare Alex’s life. Not because the little boy was his grandson; familial ties didn’t mean much to Mac. But Alex’s talent – remote viewing – was rare, and his blood valuable. Erik’s family wouldn’t be so lucky. Mac would kill them. Maybe for retaliation. Maybe to make an example of them. Maybe just because he could. I wouldn’t let that happen.

  “You heard the Captain. I’m extremely powerful. Aren’t you scared to be alone with me?” I continued, making crazy eyes at Nichols over my shoulder. She was definitely the weak link. Her lips pursed together, but she didn’t take the bait.

  “So what is it Mac plans on doing with all the people here? Public trials? Oh wait, I forgot, traitors don’t get trials. I guess he’ll just have them sentenced to dea
th then. You do know that the last traitor he supposedly killed is still alive, right? Perfectly healthy, in fact.” The lie was hard to get out. Penny was not perfectly healthy. She put on a good face, but the power was affecting to her.

  “Shut up,” Wilkes growled.

  I was getting to him.

  “Make me,” I shot back, turning my attention to him.

  His hand shot out with superhuman speed. Stars exploded behind my eyes, and pain shot across my cheek as my head whipped to one side. Crap, that hurt. Blood filled my mouth, and I spit the coppery substance on the ground.

  “That the best you got?” I managed to squeak out. I was on shaky ground. Mac might not want me dead, but if I were unconscious, I would lose my chance to escape. I needed to calm down and stop being stupid.

  I fully expected him to hit me again. I would’ve hit me again. But we were out of the woods now and nearing a large building. Operatives were stationed around the perimeter. At first, I wasn’t sure exactly what made him hesitate. Then I noticed a tall, broad shouldered figure in a crisp, gray suit striding towards us.

  Blood froze in my veins as my stomach hit the grass. I was meeting my maker, literally. Mac had arrived early.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Director,” Wilkes said. “We didn’t expect you so soon.” Like a good operative, he straightened and saluted.

  Had my muscles not entered temporary paralysis at the sight of Mac, I probably would have rolled my eyes at the ridiculous display.

  Nichols too seemed caught off guard and slightly awed by Mac’s appearance. She dropped her barely-there grip on my arm and mimicked Wilkes' show of respect. “We have the Lyons girl, sir,” she said.

  This time, I did roll my eyes. Really? Stating the obvious seemed like a good idea? Did she think Mac had forgotten what I looked like?

  “You don’t say?” Mac replied sarcastically. When he spoke, his steel gray eyes sought out mine and the look that passed between us was almost conspiratorial.

  I blinked to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. No, the face staring down at me was definitely Danbury McDonough. Only, while the cold gaze, sharp nose, and pursed lips were his, the essence radiating off of him was not. The person standing in front of me was warm and caring and extremely worried about me. This person cared about me. This person was also exerting an extreme amount of talent. Energy leaked from him as he fought to stay in control.

  As if all these weren’t enough clues that something about this situation was off, his next statement confirmed it. “I’ll take Talia from here.”

  Talia? Mac never called me Talia.

  Mac reached for my arm, gently wrapping strong fingers around my bicep.

  “She’s a mouthy twit,” Wilkes said, shoving me forward.

  “Yes, Natalia’s mouth does get her in trouble,” Mac agreed, staring down at me with a very unMac-like twinkle in his eye.

  “Captain Alvarez ordered us to escort her an isolation room.” It was Nichols who spoke this time.

  I was impressed by her nerve. Openly questioning Mac was a bad idea, and here I thought she was weak-willed. Then again, maybe she sensed there was something off about this Mac, too.

  “Last time I checked, the door to my office read, Director, not the Captain’s.” Mac was authority personified. A shiver ran through me. Maybe all the knocking about of my head on the plane had thrown me off, because this felt like the Mac I knew. Maybe before had just been wishful thinking.

  “Of course, sir,” Nichols stuttered. “I wasn’t questioning your authority –”

  Mac cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Go. I have the situation under control.”

  As I watched the two operatives retreat, I thought about swiping Mac’s mind. Sure, he’d know I was there, and likely be expecting it, but just in case his defenses were down, I wanted to try. Knowing what he planned to do with me seemed like a good idea. Only before I had the opportunity, he spoke in my mind. And I finally understood what was really going on.

  “Are you okay? What the hell are you doing here, Tal? You should be somewhere safe. You got Erik back, why are you still taking risks?” Donavon’s mental voice said.

  I was so relieved and impressed that I found myself unable to answer him.

  Long ago, when I’d first come to the McDonoughs, Donavon had told me that exceptionally powerful Morphers could take any other living form. Animals were the easiest and the most natural, for whatever reason. Human shifts were hard to pull off and harder to maintain. Donavon had been trying for years to achieve a human transformation. This was the first he’d managed. Perfect timing, I thought.

  Donavon, disguised as Mac, started leading me forward.

  “Were you shot?” he asked, gently touching the frayed fabric on my shoulder.

  “Yeah, but it’s nothing. I’m fine. And I’m here because Erik’s father and brothers are here, and he nearly died to rescue them. I’m here because Erik’s isn’t the only life worth fighting for. I’m here to protect your son,” I sent back, growing angrier with each word. “Where are you taking me?”

  We reached the doors to the rec center. Two guards saluted Donavon and eyed me warily. Donavon’s grip on my arm tightened, and I knew he was fighting to maintain his Mac-like shape. The effort was draining him.

  “As much as I hate to admit it, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been trying to figure out how to get Alex out of here since I saw him,” he sent as we entered the foyer.

  “How’s he doing?” I asked.

  “Good. I’m just glad I got to see him one last time.”

  “Don’t say that. He needs you, Donavon.” I wasn’t really sure what I felt for Donavon anymore: anger because he sided with his father; irritation because he was too much of a coward to stand up for what was right; pity because he felt he didn’t have a choice. One thing was certain, I was sad for him. Sadder still for Alex, who was certain to lose all his remaining family members once UNITED became involved. Even if Donavon lived through the attacks, he’d definitely be contained. Having been injected with an inferior form of the creation drug at such a young age meant he’d have needed repeated injections to keep his talents strong. There was no telling how badly his mind had been affected. And unlike me, he didn’t hold enough value for UNITED to decide his potential worth to their cause outweighed the threat he posed. Morphing was the most common talent.

  “No, Tal, you’re the one he needs now. He needs you to keep him safe. I’m … I’m no good for him.”

  “Does that mean that you’re going to help me escape?” I asked, hoping that was the case. I needed all the help I could get.

  Donavon came to a stop in front of a door marked “Cliff Oswald, Manager,” and twisted the knob. He pushed the door open and led me through. It was a small office with a desk and two chairs. He gestured for me to sit in one. Reluctantly, I agreed.

  “It’s the least I can do,” he said.

  “You could come with me,” I replied hopefully. “You could come be with Alex.” It had been on the tip of my tongue to say cottage, but I shoved the word back. I didn’t want to give away too much. Honestly, I wanted him to come with us, but also knew that was unrealistic.

  “No, Tal, I can’t. All personnel were implanted with trackers. That’s how they found you in Tennessee. They put a tracker in Erik. My father knew you’d come for him. Although, I got to say, he didn’t expect you to show up with Crane and Coalition soldiers.” Donavon actually laughed. “Not much surprises him anymore. You know how he is, rarely losing his cool in front of people. He popped blood vessels when he saw you and Crane together during the attack. Now this business with UNITED. He’s flipping his shit.”

  “Was he there?” I asked.

  “Yeah. He was watching on the surveillance cameras in the warden’s office. He was planning on letting you get far enough inside the prison that he’d be able to trap you. But once he realized you weren’t alone, he knew he’d screwed up. He underestimated you. He ordered guards to Erik’s cell. When you g
uys landed on the bridge, though, those guards left their posts to come after you. I was in Echo section when the attack started. Dad sent me after you defeated our forces on the bridge. He was so certain you wouldn’t hurt me.” Donavon shook his head and rolled his eyes. “He never considered the feelings went both ways.”

  I smiled sadly, recalling how on the roof I’d known without a doubt that Donavon wouldn’t hurt me.

  “Did you get in trouble for letting us go?”

  Donavon swallowed hard, averting his eyes. “No, I told him you manipulated me. No way to prove otherwise. Only you and I know the truth. I had to go before a tribunal and plead my case. Half voted to arrest me, but dad backed me up. Argued our connection was strong, and you’d have had no trouble controlling me. Instead they agreed to give me the mental block. Fortunately dad rescued me again there. He got Dr. Thistler to forge the paperwork.”

  “That was nice of him, I suppose,” I sent, not sure whether I meant it or not.

  Donavon laughed bitterly. “Not really. He thinks you might try to contact me, you know, mentally. If I got the block, he knows you wouldn’t be able to. What he fails to understand is that I wouldn’t tell him if you did.”

  My heart went out to him. Donavon never had a choice in his life. From childhood he’d been condemned to this fate. This horrible fate of being his father’s son. Donavon would be a good father in another life.

  “Donavon, please come with me. Crane’s men removed Erik’s tracker; they’ll be able to do the same for you. You don’t have to stay. I know you don’t agree with what your father is doing. You’re a good person. You’ll be a great father. Alex needs his father. Please. I’m sure UNITED will grant you clemency if you help lead them to Mac.”

  Donavon shook his head sadly. “Erik’s tracker was different. It was just a mechanical chip, like the one they put in your hip for your solo mission. Mine isn’t. It runs through my blood. In time it will wear off, but that takes weeks. Besides, I know what UNITED does to the created. I can’t live like that.”

 

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