by Cassie Miles
“It’s a lot to think about.” He dropped a light kiss on her forehead. “Time to get going if we’re going to make it to Brewster’s Pub by seven.”
She desperately hoped that Jack Maddox would have some answers for them. She had absolutely no intention of spending the rest of her life on the run.
AS THEY DROVE toward Rapid City, Drew gave Melinda a task to take her mind off the way her life had changed. “In the glove compartment, there are a couple of maps, including one for Rapid City. I want you to figure out a couple of escape routes for us.”
“Actual paper maps?” Her eyebrows lifted. “That’s so last century. Why can’t I use the maps on the laptop?”
“I suppose you could, but—”
“Wait,” she interrupted. “I know why. It’s better if I don’t turn on the laptop because, even if the bad guys don’t know we’re in this car, there might be a way of tracking our signal.”
“You’re sounding a little paranoid, Melinda.”
“Don’t you dare start teasing me.”
He was glad to see that she’d gotten her spirit back. Her natural resilience impressed him. It seemed there was nothing he could throw at her that would keep her down.
“The reason for paper maps,” he said, “is that they’re easier than juggling a laptop if we’re in a high speed chase. It’s even better if you commit the maps to memory.”
She bobbed her head. “I can do that. I’m pretty good at spatial relationships.”
“You’re good at everything.” Especially making love. Knowing that she could self-heal made her even more attractive to him. She seemed to glow.
“I was thinking, Drew. Maybe we don’t need to escape.”
He didn’t like the way that sounded. “How so?”
“I think we should take on the bad guys,” she said. “There are two of us who can’t be injured. We definitely have the edge.”
“It’s good that you’ve decided to embrace your abilities, but let’s not get carried away.”
“I mean it.” She defiantly tossed her head. “We’re indestructible. Why should we run?”
Time for a lesson. “As you’ve already seen for yourself, self-healing takes a toll. Afterward, you have a headache and you’re exhausted.”
“Afterward, we nap. First, we make a stand. Attack them before they attack us.”
He never expected his little librarian to turn into a fiery avenger. “Let me explain a couple things. I’ve only had one injury that damaged an internal organ, and the healing process was rough. I don’t want to risk being shot in the chest or the head.”
“Theoretically, you—and I—should be able to heal any wound.”
Long ago, he’d made a pact with himself. Though he’d been tempted to test his limits by firing a gun into his chest, he knew better than to abuse his abilities. He was certain that there were limits. “If the heart muscle is injured and the blood can’t flow, I’m not sure what will happen.”
“So we wear bullet-proof vests.”
“Even if we’re wearing body armor,” he said, “there’s another problem. And this is a big one.”
She was listening intensely. “Tell me.”
“When that guy broke in to your apartment, he caused you to black out. The whole time I was growing up, I had the same experience. I’m not sure how it’s done. Probably not a drug because they wanted to run experiments with my blood. My best guess is that it’s something electric, like a stun gun.”
She sank back against the passenger seat. “They have some kind of weapon that knocks us out.”
“Which is why we need to plan our escape.”
With a crinkling of paper, she spread open the maps from the glove compartment and started to study them. Though her aggressive streak seemed to be under control, he couldn’t be sure of how she’d react when threatened. Working with a partner was new to him; he wouldn’t feel safe until they were back at the cabin.
Chapter Twelve
At seven o’clock on a Friday night, Brewster’s Pub in Rapid City was just beginning to come to life. Sports fans staked out seats nearest the television screens suspended over the bar in the middle of the long room. At the front tables, couples and groups chowed down on burgers and mountains of fries. In the back, a band was setting up on a small stage in front of a dance floor.
With an instinct born of years on the run, Drew took note of the exits. Swinging doors on the right side of the room led into the kitchen. Though he couldn’t see the back wall, he assumed there was a door because the band was coming and going, carrying equipment.
Melinda poked him in the ribs. “Do you think I can get a burger?”
“Sure.”
“Fries, too.” A wide smile stretched her mouth. “I’m starved for decent comfort food.”
She seemed calm, almost nonchalant. Either she was overconfident or unaware of the danger. Probably the latter. As they drove through Rapid City—a place he’d visited several times when he was a kid—they hadn’t encountered anything resembling a threat. Hadn’t even heard a police siren.
Melinda had done a good job of memorizing the maps. She’d recited street names as they approached and directed him to the pub on the far eastern side of town with nary a wrong turn. He’d parked under a cottonwood tree at the edge of the lot, ready for a quick escape.
A tall guy with short black hair sauntered toward them. He held out his hand. “I’m Jack.”
Still uncertain about whether he could trust this guy, Drew introduced himself and Melinda. They followed Jack to a round wood table near the kitchen doors. Drew took the seat facing the entrance. When he sat, he adjusted the shoulder holster hidden under his leather jacket. He also wore an ankle holster.
Jack’s companion was Claudia Reynolds, a pretty blonde with intelligent brown eyes. She defined her role. “I redesigned the eight-pointed star Web site.”
“Claudia’s a computer expert and Web designer.” Jack’s pride and affection were evident in his tone. “She’s kind of a genius.”
“Not a genius,” she said modestly. “Kendra Sinclair established the initial Web site with the eight-pointed star. She’s a remarkable woman. Her ability is telekinesis.”
“Really?” Melinda’s eyes widened. “She can move things with her mind?”
Claudia nodded. “Hard to believe but true.”
Drew asked, “Why did she use a star?”
“Kendra’s father was an integral part of the experiments before he realized they were cruel and unethical. He imprinted all the subjects with a subconscious memory of the eight-pointed star. That’s what led you to us.”
“I’ll be damned,” he muttered.
“I have to compliment you, Drew. The encryption and firewalls on your computer are excellent. I couldn’t trace your location.”
“Good to know.” But her comment worried him. Why had she tried to track him?
“There’s a lot more you need to know.” Jack rested his elbows on the table and leaned toward Drew. His eyes held the remote expression of someone accustomed to spending a lot of time alone, as though he was curious about the outside world and mistrustful of it at the same time. “Claudia put together a DVD with details. I’ll give you the shorthand version.”
“Are we in a hurry?” Melinda asked. “I’m dying for a burger and fries.”
Drew shot her a glance. The woman was single-minded. He looked toward Jack and asked, “Is there any immediate danger?”
“I’m a pre-cog. Not a fortune teller. But there is one thing I can tell you. You’re the subject of an all-out pursuit.”
“Good guess.”
Jack continued, “One of the people coming after you is a big, husky guy. If you’ve seen him, you’ll remember. He’s got a shaved head, like Kojak.”
When Melinda gasped, Drew realized that he’d need to talk to her about not revealing too much. She wasn’t good at keeping secrets.
“This big guy,” she said. “What else do you know about him?”
“They call him Blue. There were three of them. Red, Blue and Green. Identical. The one called Red killed himself when we took him into custody.”
“You arrested him?” Drew asked.
“Not exactly. I’m not a law officer. I was holding him for the FBI.”
An interesting twist. “The Feds are involved in this investigation.”
“They have been for years.”
The waitress arrived with a tray holding a beer for Jack and a coffee for Claudia. Drew ordered burgers and fries for him and Melinda. She wanted an iced tea, and he went for the specialty-of-the-house dark beer. His self-healing blood meant he never got drunk or high, but he liked the taste.
To Jack, he said, “You mentioned something about giving me the short version.”
“This started as a legitimate research project, funded by the military, to enhance individual skills and talents. In the experiments, they discovered a recessive gene, referred to as the I gene. ‘I’ stands for Ideal. Subjects who have this gene are affected when given certain drugs. They develop heightened abilities. The treatments work best when used on young people, before puberty. Therein was the problem.”
Drew nodded. “Most people won’t allow their children to be used as lab rats.”
“The man in charge of these experiments is Kenneth Sykes.”
Drew remembered the name he’d dredged from his subconscious and scribbled on a sheet of white paper. At some point in his life, he must have seen Sykes, but he didn’t remember. “I assume that Sykes had to find children who were either orphaned or abandoned.”
“And there were abductions.” He tensed perceptibly. “My parents were killed when I was five. I blame Sykes.”
Drew had never before made a connection between the death of his parents and the experiments. Horrified, he realized that the fatal plane crash that killed his mom and dad might have been part of the scheme.
Hiding his emotional response, he kept his voice level. “What happened to these children?”
“Sykes ran a lab, called The Facility, in the Black Hills. About two months ago, an undercover FBI agent infiltrated their operation, posing as a subject.”
“What was his ability?” Melinda asked. “I assume he had one or he couldn’t get inside.”
“Telekinesis,” Claudia said. “He has the same ability as Kendra. They’re a couple now.”
“Fancy that.” Melinda cast a sidelong look in his direction. “They both had the same talent.”
“Yeah, fancy that.” Drew preferred playing his cards close to the vest. The less Jack and Claudia knew about them, the better. “Is The Facility still in operation?”
“The FBI closed it down. A real hellhole. You’ll see photos on the DVD.”
“What about Sykes?”
“Gone.” Jack’s voice was hollow. “There’s evidence that he’s working with foreign governments. They’re the ones financing his operations. His current focus is developing the second generation, using the offspring of those with enhanced abilities.”
Instead of blurting out that she was pregnant, Melinda grasped his hand under the table and squeezed hard. Her unspoken message was clear. Sykes is after the baby. We have to protect our baby.
Jack continued, “If you want protection, you can turn yourself in to the FBI.”
A rational suggestion. But it held just about as much appeal as a life sentence in a super-max prison. “You haven’t turned yourself in. Why not?”
“I need to be able to operate freely,” Jack said. “My twin brother was at The Facility. He still hasn’t been found.”
“Oh, my gosh,” Melinda whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“I won’t quit,” Jack said, “until I find him.”
Apparently, he preferred to work without the constraints of the Feds. Drew completely understood. He’d never been good at following a chain of command or taking orders. All his life, he’d been a lone wolf.
Their food arrived. He knew Melinda had been shaken by Jack’s information, and he watched her picking at her burger. When she straightened her shoulders, he knew she was giving herself an internal pep talk about bucking up and facing challenges. The practical thing would be to eat. She grabbed the burger with two hands and took a huge bite. A trickle of juice ran down her lips, and she licked it off.
He loved her resilience.
His attitude was nowhere near as upbeat. When he thought of his parents’ death being connected to some mysterious gene, his gut clenched in a painful knot. His life had been overturned by a genetic anomaly. He wouldn’t let that happen to his child. They had to escape. But where could they run? If Sykes’s men could track him down in Europe, they’d find him anywhere.
A shout rose from the bar where the television screens showed the college basketball games of March Madness.
“Got a favorite team?” Jack asked.
“I haven’t followed it this year. I was out of the country.”
“You’re a freelance sports reporter, right?”
“Extreme sports,” Drew said. “In Europe, I was covering glacier skiing and bicycle marathons.”
“One of the guys with enhanced abilities has superspeed. I’d like to see him burn up a track. They say he can outrun a bullet.”
Drew never would have believed him if it hadn’t been for his own ability. “From what you’ve said, this Ideal gene operates differently in each individual.”
“I don’t understand how it works,” Jack admitted. “But I can see why your ability is of particular interest to Sykes. What if he could reproduce this effect on a wider population? Develop an army of soldiers who could heal themselves?”
Drew was certain that he hadn’t mentioned self-healing, and he didn’t like Jack having information about him. “What else do you know about me?”
“You’re the big fish that got away.”
“I ran,” Drew said.
“Changed your name half a dozen times,” Jack said.
Melinda looked up from her burger. “What? Drew Kincaid isn’t your real name?”
“It is now,” he said.
“They’ve been looking for you,” Jack said. “When The Facility closed down, they started putting out feelers. And they’ve been getting closer and closer.”
“That’s right,” Drew said tersely.
“I need your help,” Jack said. “Sykes is desperate to get his hands on you. We can use that to draw him into the open.”
“You want to use me as bait.”
Jack sipped his beer and set it down on the table. His motions were deliberate. “I wouldn’t exactly put it that way. I’ll arrange for backup so you’re protected. But yes, I want to use you as bait.”
Drew hadn’t spent his entire adult life on the run only to hand himself over to his enemies, especially not now. Not with Melinda and a baby to consider.
Jack and his half-assed scheme could go to hell.
MELINDA KNEW THAT Drew wasn’t comfortable with her behind the steering wheel of the Range Rover. But she’d pointed out that she’d memorized all the streets and knew the best way to get out of town, and he had acquiesced.
“We should do it,” she said. “Jack and Claudia have the plan all figured out.”
Drew growled, “I said I’d think about it.”
He hadn’t been real cooperative. Borderline rude, in fact.
Nevertheless, she hadn’t given up on changing his mind. She turned off Main Street onto Sturgis Road, heading northwest toward the cabin. “We can’t spend the rest of our lives on the run, Drew.”
“Here’s the problem with being bait,” he said. “You can get chewed up and spit out before anybody has a chance to react.”
“Sykes won’t hurt you. He wants you alive.”
“Not necessarily. He wants my self-healing ability. That’s in my blood.”
Their meeting with Jack and Claudia ended abruptly when Jack asked Drew if he’d give them a blood sample to analyze. To Melinda, it hadn’t seemed like an unreasonable request, bu
t Drew reacted with thinly veiled hostility. He’d glared as if Jack was a vampire, then he snarled something about how he didn’t want to be anybody’s experiment.
If she’d learned anything about Drew, it was that he was a loner and had been that way since he was a kid. All his report cards probably had the same notation: does not play well with others.
Somehow, she had to make him see reason. “I know it’s hard for you to trust people. But this might be our best chance to end this mess.”
“How do you figure?”
“You’ve been researching your past for years,” she said. “And you didn’t have any of the information Jack had about The Facility and Sykes and Blue, Green and Red.”
“And the FBI,” he said. “Don’t forget the Feds.”
“Is that what’s bothering you? Are you afraid the FBI is going to take you into custody and do their own experiments?”
He fell silent, and she knew her guess was accurate. Though she couldn’t claim to know what he was going through, she’d had a taste of that fear when she discovered she could self-heal. And she was determined that their baby would not be victimized by a genetic fluke.
She drove past the lights and houses of Rapid City into the surrounding hills. The rugged terrain gave way to forests. She turned onto a twisting two-lane road that followed a narrow creek. Eventually, this route would circle back to a major thoroughfare, but she wanted a moment of solitude so they could talk without constantly scanning the approaching vehicles and watching for threats.
After a half mile without seeing anyone else on the road, she pulled onto the shoulder and parked.
“Tired of driving?” Drew asked hopefully.
“Not yet.” She turned off the headlights and faced him, determined to make her point. “Things are changing for you. You’re not the lone wolf anymore. You have me.”
“Why did you stop here?”
“It seems like a relatively safe location. Nobody was following us. Nobody knows we’re here.”
In the moonlight, she saw him grin. “If you want to make love in the forest, I’m all for it. But I think we’d be safer near the cabin.”