Everyone? Hardly. Try: No one else but him. “This is wrong.”
“Deciding what’s right or wrong is above your pay-grade. If you can’t manage it, that’s fine. Because I already have someone lined-up who can.”
I didn’t trade-in my soul just so I could be replaced. “You mean like Jolie?” Words shot out of her mouth like venom, but the poison remained inside. “She worked out really well for you, what with screwing everything up and all.”
“Are you sure you aren’t one of them? Your moods change faster than the minute hand on my Rolex. Just when I think you might be smart, you up and get mouthy.”
She looked at the ceiling. Somehow, he would know how close to tears she was, and he’d probably enjoy it.
“I’m not going to force a pregnancy on her,” she said, bringing the phone close to her mouth, so he wouldn’t know how difficult it was for her to speak, to say the things she should’ve said a long time ago. “She should have a choice.”
“Fine. I’m not without feelings.” He sighed. “Here’s her choice: She makes a baby with the man she loves and they live happily ever after. Or...the man she loves doesn’t get his widdle baba of serum and will soon turn into a psychotic monster full-time. How’s that for a choice?”
She’d thought it was a bluff. “You mean you’d really deny him the serum unless they reproduce?”
“Do we have a bad connection here? Hold the phone closer to your ear, so you can hear me better. No pregnancy, no serum. Yes pregnancy, yes serum. Do you want me to repeat it?”
“No. I understand.” She understood that he never bluffed. And then she understood that she was talking to an empty line.
Her office was too small, too claustrophobic. She needed to get out of this godforsaken place.
“Alex?” The door cracked open. Only one person would open without knocking first.
“Now’s not a good time, Carter. Can I find you later?”
He opened the door all the way and came in. “Alex, I’m not feeling very well.” Another reminder of the ‘good’ she was doing here. Poor Carter. He really did look terrible.
She busied herself by shuffling papers, straightening out her desk. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you right now. Eden’s back now, so you’ll have to wait.”
“Is that my file?” he asked, pointing to the one she’d practically destroyed while on the phone. When she moved to leave, he blocked her way. “Listen, Alex. I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life. But I’m trying to do better. But I can’t if I feel like I’m about to die all the time.” He held his arms out to his sides.
“I can’t help you. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you any more.” Before he started begging, she pushed past him, wanting to escape. But her sins still held on tightly, and running away was never enough to shake them off.
§ § §
Mitch eventually calmed down…sedated…in the cage. Not letting go of the safety pin/lock pick, he’d ordered Landon to stay in the room. Did Mitch trust him? Not really. The time for trusting anyone—including himself—was long gone. And any lingering scraps of belief in the justice of the universe had been wiped out as well.
Once his heartbeat had returned to normal, and with a top-off of the narcotic, he and Landon went from storefront to storefront, angrily demanding information from everyone they encountered. After only a minimal amount of threatening, a clerk from a convenience store confessed to seeing her get into a black SUV. Convenient. The Clinic handled deliveries and pick-ups.
So she’d called them. Why the hell had she gone back to them? Willingly. And why hadn’t she said anything? The question not only hurt his ego—it hurt his heart, his soul, and all the other parts of himself he’d handed her.
Trust, gone. Faith, gone. Even for her.
If that was what she wanted, then he had no choice but to let her go. He was still baffled by how she could trust them, but what the hell could he do now? Go after her? Sure. If he knew where the fuck to go. And when he found her, he’d take every fucking bit of anger, pain, and frustration out on the people who’d done this to them. Wipe them off the planet, leaving no trace of them behind. Regardless of what Eden wanted or hoped for.
Goals were important. And, though his goal hadn’t changed, now he had even more motivation. Because she’d gone there for him. She’d sold herself to them, so that he could live. Unacceptable. He was going to end them if it was the last thing he did. Even if he had to go door-to-door wearing a target on his chest, screaming, ‘Anyone with a Taser gets a free shot’.
CHAPTER XXV
Lying in feigned peaceful repose back in The Clinic’s guestroom, Eden felt the walls of this hellhole close in around her. Like a mime in a box. Except she wasn’t pretending—the box was real. And she couldn’t get out. At least not until she completed the task she’d set for herself. She touched the keycard that was tucked into her bra.
Alex was going to be so pissed. But it served her right after all the lies, after she fed Eden one more about it not being safe for her to go outside anymore. That she was only safe inside The Clinic, and that they needed her. Eden had let her talk, knowing what Alex really meant: She was trapped inside of these walls until they didn’t need her anymore. Until they had what they wanted. Until they’d convinced her to have a child, she’d never be free.
She imagined the next day would be a parade of sorts. A line-up of all the people Eden could help—Justin, Fields’s daughter, probably more—to tug at her heartstrings. But those strings had been played so hard, they were already broken. And, unlike the rest of her, they didn’t heal quickly.
Patience, Eden. Patience. That was a very tall order. Wait until nighttime, when some of them went home to their happy, normal lives, where they could pretend their day job didn’t involve testing monsters. Where they could pretend they weren’t monsters for doing it.
After her lovely discussion with Alex, they’d done more tests. Not surprisingly, when she’d asked about the results, they shuffled papers and mumbled about nothing being conclusive. Sure, why the hell should they tell her anything? It was only her body they were testing, so why would she care?
She knew they would check her blood and urine for hormone levels, especially the ones that appeared after conception. Damn it, she hoped they hadn’t gotten what they’d wanted—that she’d accidentally gotten pregnant with Mitch’s child.
She would not be bred like a piece of livestock. Would not have her child poked and prodded like a lamb due for slaughter. Stem cells. Yeah, sure. As if they’d be able to stop themselves once they had them.
These people weren’t trying to help Abnormals, they were trying to breed them. For what purpose, she had no idea. But she’d find out. They must have computers. Somewhere. Weeks ago, when Jolie’s boss thought he was talking to Jolie, he mentioned emails. So yippee for them—The Clinic tried to be green. But it wasn’t the environment they were worried about, it was the lack of a paper trail. But digital docs left a trail as well, and she intended to scour the whole frigging forest of deception to find it.
An excruciating amount of time later, the overhead lights dimmed, giving the ‘lights out, children’ signal. She stood and walked slowly to the door, putting her ear to it and listening. Then she turned the knob, again moving as slowly as she could bear, testing their promise of her freedom within the facility. It was locked. Shocker.
She called out, “Hello? Is anyone there?” Hopefully, there was someone right outside the door. A guard who, with a smile to prove how much they trusted her, would politely suggest that she go back to bed. And if she insisted? Made up an excuse that she needed to get some fresh air, or get a drink, or go to the little girl’s room? What would happen then? How long would he be able to keep up the appearance of congeniality? How long before he pulled out that fancy Taser of his?
“What do you want?” said a voice from the other side of the door.
Hurray for predictability. “I need some help.” She released the knob as the guard opened t
he door. She saw him a moment before he saw her. Thankfully, he wasn’t any of the ones she’d already fought—they’d have been happy to go another round with her. This one was young, fresh-faced. He probably had no idea how expendable he was to his employer. You take one down and another pops up in his place.
“Hi,” she said.
“What’s wrong?” The poor guy would know in about thirty seconds, just as soon as she could reach him.
“Could you help me flip the mattress? I’m having a Princess and the Pea moment with it.”
“Um…” He glanced down the hallway.
“Please? It’ll just take a second.”
He reached for his cell phone.
“I think the two of us can handle it. It’s just a mattress.” She smiled her most girlie smile, one she hoped looked needy and sweet.
“I don’t think so,” he said, pushing the door. “Go back to bed.”
“Come on,” she whined, pushing against him.
“Just go to sleep.” He stepped behind the door to get more leverage until all she saw was one of his legs outstretched behind him.
“Fine.” She readied herself and then quickly released the door. As soon as it started to swing towards her, she shoved it as hard as she could. It clunked into him, and he stumbled away holding his head. A second later she was behind him, her arm wrapped around his neck, cutting off his air like Fields had done to her. Except she wasn’t as gentle. His limbs flailed around, but only briefly made contact with her. Hopefully his lame fighting skill was a sign The Clinic was running out of well-trained guards.
As his movements slowed, she whispered, “You need to get a different job. You’re not cut out for this,” into his ear. Once he stopped moving and became a big lump of useless weight, she released the pressure on his windpipe and dragged him into the room.
She grabbed his cell phone, keycard, and Taser, and then remembered the intercom box on the wall. There was nothing other than what she’d just taken off him to break it with. But she had to break it. Eventually he would wake up and call for help, and she needed all the time she could get. Damn it. She weighed her options. She needed every tool she could hold onto. She tried to tuck the cell phone and his keycard into her bra, wishing her breasts were smaller so she’d have more room.
“I should have paid more attention in class.” Then she turned the dial on the top of the Taser to max, pointed it at the intercom, and pulled the trigger, hoping the unit would short-circuit.
Sparks surrounded a dart like the one she’d ripped out of Mitch after he’d been zapped. “Thank you, physics!” As soon as her finger came off the trigger, the sparks began to die off. Great. These fancy Tasers were probably one-shot deals. But she kept it, just in case. With a quick glance to make sure the guard was still unconscious, she left the room, verifying it was locked.
She came around the corner at a run, sliding to a stop in front of the first door she saw. Might as well start here, right? Since none of the doors were marked, she might have to try them all. With her luck, this would probably be the staff lounge, complete with a vending machine and coffee maker. As she swiped Alex’s keycard in front of the locking mechanism, she vaguely wondered what their ‘new employee training’ program was like. Did they get a huge chart of the facility and have to memorize which door led to which room? Opening the door a crack, she almost laughed, imagining the look on Alex’s face when she gave her back her card.
Until she heard moaning.
With a quick glance around, she pushed the door open. It seemed heavier than the others, but she couldn’t be sure. Honestly, she’d had better days. She was tired of all of this shit and her body was probably just pissed off at her.
The hallway lights didn’t shine far enough into the room to light up anything past the first two feet. She peered into the darkness, hoping her improved vision would let her see whatever else was in there. Whoever had moaned. At least, it had sounded like a moan, but she could’ve been wrong. The prickle of trepidation on her skin left her hoping she was wrong.
A sound from somewhere down the hallway made her jump. She stepped inside and shut the door firmly, but quietly. They couldn’t find her. Not yet. With no light from outside, the room was completely black. So she slid her hand along the wall, feeling around for a light switch. Nothing.
Great. With her hands out in front of her, she felt around the wall on the other side of the door. Nothing there either. She gave up, knowing that if she tripped over something in the darkness and sent The Clinic’s tools of torture clambering to the ground, they would see-through her offer to cooperate and be on her like hyenas on a wounded member of the pack.
Reaching out, she felt the doorjamb and followed it until she felt the knob. All she needed was enough light to see, so she opened the door a crack and wedged one of her shoes between it and the edge. Her shoe crunched. The door was definitely heavier than the others. Why?
Oh God, was that another moan? She knew there was something wrong. Sensed it. Knew she should turn around and try another room. Just find the goddamned serum and get the hell out of Dodge. Don’t get distracted.
But she couldn’t leave. Not until she knew what was making that sound. A sound that, while it could barely be heard, reverberated inside of her.
An invisible force, similar to the one she’d felt when she’d met Justin, pulled her forward. Maybe it was just another sleeping room. Maybe she’d see him strapped lightly to a bed with the cushioned straps he’d described.
Yeah, right. The pull, the need to move closer, was far stronger than she’d felt towards Justin. More like the one she felt around Mitch, but darker and less pleasurable. As she stepped into the middle of the room, the overhead lights turned on automatically. Motion-sensors. So why didn’t they turn on when whoever else was in here moved?
The room was big. Various trays of medical equipment, small work desks, and other crap she didn’t care about were spread out throughout. One wall was a continuous row of glass cabinets. And of course, one could hardly miss a line of cages along the far wall. Three cages, all in a row. With numbers on large placards hanging off the cross-bars. How frigging convenient—all the doors were open to welcome whoever The Clinic wanted to throw inside. Three-two—
Her stomach wilted when she looked into cage number one. Unlike the first two, its door wasn’t open. And the overhead light didn’t shine as brightly as it did in the other two cells. She studied the placard as she crept forward, her eyes unable—or unwilling—to look at what was beyond the sign, even though she felt its presence like a heavy burden on her chest.
Hyde01
Without moving, she traced each letter and number at least three times with her eyes. Until she realized that she hadn’t run away. So somewhere within it, her mind had already decided it was going to make her look. It was just stalling, or building courage, or another equally-useless activity. She counted to three and looked up just as she heard a growl.
Directly in front of her, chained to the wall, was a monster. A Hyde. A thin cement bench was flush against the cinderblock behind him, giving him only a few inches to sit on. Two thick metal cuffs enclosed each of his wrists, short chains attaching him to the wall, stretching his arms out to the sides just parallel to his shoulders. They sagged in their bindings, huge muscles flaccid but still holding tremendous power if flexed. It must have been excruciatingly painful to not be able to lower his arms.
How long has he been like that?
The cotton pants he wore were torn and fraying where they’d rubbed against the edge of the bench, bloodspots dotting the fabric. He hung there limply as if he were on a cross. Or like a twisted, disturbed artist’s rendition of DaVinci’s man.
When he lifted his head, she saw the hate radiating from his eyes. A hate so dark, she felt it seep into her pores, leaving her filthy. She’d never seen that much evil. Not even in Mitch’s Hyde. Her feet were frozen where they stood, but her legs shook, not knowing whether to step forward or flee.
&nb
sp; “I can’t believe you stole my frigging keycard!”
When she heard Alex’s voice from right behind her, Eden flipped around and aimed the Taser in one fluid motion.
“Did you tase your guard?” Alex wasn’t alone. Fields was there, along with two other guards. “Because if you did, the gun is now about as useful as he was.”
“Damn it. I hate it when I’m right,” Eden said as they all poured through the doorway. She lowered the Taser and stepped backwards, towards the creature.
“Who is he?” Eden asked, not caring who answered, as long as someone did.
“Not something you should be around,” Alex muttered. The rest of them stayed quiet.
“Some-thing?”
“Yes, Eden, some-thing. That”—she motioned to the Hyde—“is what could happen to your precious Mitch. That is what they turn into, if they don’t get themselves killed first.”
Eden’s entire body shook uncontrollably. “No.”
“Look at it!” Alex’s voice was loud, vicious, wanting to hurt. “Get used to that expression. Because unless we find a cure, that’s what you’ll spend the rest of your life with. Taking care of him, changing his diaper, all that good stuff.”
“Why didn’t you give him the serum?”
“We did. But it was too late. His transformations had already done too much damage to his system.” Alex shrugged like it was just another day. As if Hyde01 was a butterfly they’d found, stabbed through the torso, and kept in a shadowbox on the wall “Now he doesn’t come back at all. He can’t. Not fully. He can speak when he’s pumped full of it, but he’s not…real at all.”
“Real?” How could she say that? She didn’t know what was going on in his mind. Eden turned around to face him, not caring if they grabbed her from behind. They would do it anyway, and there were too many of them to fight. So, with only a few moments left before they did whatever the hell they were going to do to her, she stared at him, looking for…something inside of him. Needing to see something human inside of him.
Jekyll, an Urban Fantasy Page 25