by M. A. Phipps
Or if he does, he fails to show it.
The anger he’s been suppressing takes full control, shining through his eyes and burning everything in its path with the intensity of fire.
He fixes that energy on his older brother as the rage claws its way out from the depths of his soul. It finds freedom through his voice, reflecting across the room in a turbulent wave of sound.
“Where is she?” he yells.
That ominous smile remains intact as silence overtakes us. We all watch Richter, waiting for him to say something—to make a move that will reaffirm my concerns about being here.
Taking a step to the side, he reveals the control panel I saw in my vision. His long fingers swipe against its surface, causing the opaque screens behind him to dissolve into nothingness. In less than five seconds, they lower their clouded defenses.
We see Rai on the other side. Her body lies unmoving on the oversized bed, and she’s naked apart from the small square of white paper protecting her modesty. Machines surround her while tubes protrude out of her arms. A heart rate monitor is positioned near her head, beeping at least once every other second.
I can sense the others’ shock, and in truth, I share the same emotions despite having already seen her like this. Perhaps that’s because I never really believed she’d be here.
With how much Richter’s lied to me over the years that I’ve known him, I assumed this was just another one of his games. A sick ploy to get me back. Nothing more.
Just like usual, I’ve underestimated him.
Ezra staggers toward the bed. His movements are weak and listless, but the expression on his face is even worse. I don’t know which is stronger—the disbelief at seeing her here or the heartache of knowing we weren’t able to prevent it.
Dr. Richter clicks his tongue and waves a finger in disapproval. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Ezra freezes, and I notice that the rage that took hold of him mere moments ago is gone, leaving him seeming deflated and helpless.
“Is she actually alive?” he whispers.
“Of course,” Richter answers. “Did you honestly think I would kill her?”
A wave of relief rushes through my body, but I also can’t ignore the apprehension that shadows over it.
Rai is alive . . .
So, why do I get the feeling that something isn’t right?
“What did you do to her?” I blurt out before I can stop myself. “Why isn’t she conscious?”
Dr. Richter steps away from us. Quinn and Jenner keep their sights aimed at his chest, but I know neither of them will shoot. Not yet, at least.
The reality is, it doesn’t matter if we have him outnumbered, just like it doesn’t matter how much I want to see him dead. The fact remains that we came here for Rai. Until we know what’s wrong with her, Dr. Richter can’t be touched. Not when he’s the only person who’s able to bring her back.
Positioning himself beside the bed, his lips twitch as he touches the side of her face. “I did what I had to do, but I was careful,” he murmurs.
His thumb caresses her cheek, drawing my attention to the dark scar denting her forehead.
Bile rises in my throat as I’m brought back to the night we lost her. When that recent vision showed me that she might still be alive, I was riddled with doubt. I wasn’t sure if I could believe it. Yet, the one thing that made me was the daunting realization that we never saw her die. The only proof of her demise was that soul destroying gunshot. That and the blood that stains my every waking thought.
For the past few moments, I began to think what he did to her was a clever ruse to fool us. A trick of the eye to damage our morale.
But now . . .
“You really did shoot her,” I breathe.
I stare at Rai, grasping the reason behind her medically induced coma. Dr. Richter was right. She isn’t dead.
However, I’m not sure she’s completely alive, either.
All the air expels from my lungs, and it feels like the small speck of hope I had has abruptly disappeared, robbing me of its warmth. We fought our way here because we were sure we’d be reunited. Now, I see that was nothing more than a broken dream being dangled in front of us. More bait that I’ve once again been foolish enough to take.
Dr. Richter trails his hand along Rai’s exposed body. Disgust and anger stream through my veins, making me cringe at the way he touches her. His violating sense of entitlement is far worse than anything he ever did to me. What I was put through was inhuman, but this is just wrong.
“I’m sure you’re familiar with our story by now,” he says to me. Looking at her, he adds, “I knew she would never come back to me willingly. Raina . . .” He pauses to smile at some unspoken memory. “She was always stubborn.”
My eyes prick with tears. “So, you’re keeping her like this? Like a living doll you can just preserve behind glass?”
“She is mine,” he snarls. “She always has been. I will do whatever it takes to keep it that way, even if that means I can only have her like this.”
My head shakes in spastic jerks as I’m bombarded by the guilt that always threatens to suffocate me. Yet again, I’m shaken by the knowledge that, if I had only seen what was going to happen sooner, then maybe I could’ve prevented this from happening. Maybe then, Rai wouldn’t be here, spending the rest of her life as a prisoner in her own body.
Regardless, I’m not the only one to blame for this. What Dr. Richter has done is inexcusable, and just as I’ve felt countless times before, I would love nothing more than to see him dead. Still, I’m held back by the confusion surrounding his motives.
“Why are you doing this?”
What are you getting out of it?
“Why does anyone do anything?” he asks. “The events of our past shape us into the people we will become. It determines who we will love, and who we will hate.” His eyes flash to his brother as he says these last words.
Ezra’s face contorts with anger. “Why do you hate me? What have I ever done to you? I never asked Rai to come with me!”
Dr. Richter’s nostrils flare at the mention of Rai’s abandonment. In an attempt to compose himself, he straightens his coat. A grim smile tugs at his lips.
“This goes back much farther than just her, little brother. So much farther.” He drags a finger along the curve of his chin as he turns his ominous gaze back to me. “I wonder . . . How long did it take you to realize that she is the one Mother spoke of?”
Ezra’s face drains of color. Dr. Richter takes advantage of the lingering silence, torturing us with his indecipherable agenda.
“You were always her favorite. After the visions started, she couldn’t even bear to look at me. But you? She always looked for you.”
His resentment toward Ezra is accompanied by a tinge of what I assume must be jealousy. It’s unexpected. This whole time, I thought Richter’s hatred of his brother revolved around one thing.
Rai’s decision to join PHOENIX and the misguided assumption that Ezra had stolen her away.
I never would’ve guessed it had to do with their mother. After all, they were both witnessing a dying parent without any answer for what was happening. Neither one of them was at fault.
At the same time, it makes sense in a twisted way.
I can almost imagine their mother now, and it isn’t difficult to guess what she saw.
“She probably knew what you’d become,” I point out. “What you would do to people like her.”
“Cause and effect,” Richter counters. “An endless loop with no sure way to tell which was the cause and which was the effect. I’m sure you understand that better than anyone by now.”
He’s right. That very notion has played on my mind for the last two years, especially recently. With everything I’ve seen, it’s only natural that I would wonder about the path that leads to those moments.
Are my visions set in stone? Will they happen no matter what I do? Or will they only occur because I’ve seen them? By be
aring witness to the future, do I accidentally set the world on that course?
Am I the cause?
Or am I the effect?
His rambling interrupts my thoughts.
“Was I always destined to become like this? Or did I only turn into what I am because she cast me aside? Perhaps, if she had never shut me out, I wouldn’t have become the very thing she hated.”
“Or feared,” I whisper.
His eyes dart to mine as if I’ve just uttered the most offensive words possible.
Shaking his head, he says, “My mother had nothing to fear from me. Even my father, who had her institutionalized and who I blamed every day for her death, even he had nothing to be afraid of. But you?” he growls, turning his gaze back on Ezra. “If it wasn’t for you, if it wasn’t for those visions, she would still be alive!”
The words Ezra once spoke to me resound in my head, bringing to light the possible reason he might be to blame for their mother’s death.
“One green, one blue. Wynter. Look for Wynter.”
He told me himself that their mother kept seeing me, but why she did is still a mystery to all of us. Whatever she saw, it must’ve been important enough to want her son to find me.
Unfortunately, her other son found me first.
One green. One blue.
Wynter.
Look for Wynter.
Did that repeated sentiment become ingrained in Richter’s brain? Was that what led to his career selection—this need to decipher his mother’s dying words? To find not only the meaning behind them but the reason for the visions that caused her death?
Did I make him this way?
A visible darkness covers his eyes like a veil, and he looks back at Rai before glancing at me.
“Those who appear innocent are always the ones we should fear the most. You are a fantastic example of that.”
“How much of what you do is for the State and how much out of revenge?” Ezra asks him.
“The State is a mere tool,” he admits. “A means to an end. Without them, I never would’ve had the resources to find someone like you, Wynter. Someone who would allow me to retrieve Raina and bring her home.”
It doesn’t make any sense. I knew of his personal reasons for using me, but I always figured his loyalty to the State was just as important. Why else would he continue utilizing my power if the only purpose he wanted me for was already achieved?
“Why continue the charade then?” I nod toward where Rai lay unconscious on the bed. “You got her back over two years ago. Why keep using me?”
At first, he doesn’t answer. The seconds turn into minutes, which seem to turn into hours. Time reaches a sort of standstill, freezing me in a persistent state of dread.
A chill runs across my skin when that familiar smile forms on his lips.
“Because I wasn’t done with you.”
Ezra steps in front of me, forcing my body behind his with a shove of his hand.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he barks.
Dr. Richter glances between us.
“I will admit a large facet of it was down to pride. When you work for so long on something, it’s only natural to wish to see it used in the manner for which it was intended, even if that wasn’t your initial reason for pursuing it.” He clasps his hands behind his back as he takes a step forward, closing the distance between us before I can even think or react. “Once upon a time, I may have concerned myself with petty politics, but I have only worked to further the State’s agenda because its interests aligned with my own. They wished to take over the world, and by doing so, I would have the opportunity to observe Project W. A. R. in action.”
He stops less than three feet away from us. That smile stretches from ear to ear as his eyes pierce straight through to the core of my body.
“I have conflicting feelings toward you. After all, you were the focus of the visions that killed my mother. I should hate you, and yet, I find myself drawn to you in a way I’ve never felt with anyone else. Not even Raina. She is my heart, but you, Wynter . . . You are my soul.”
A shockwave of disgust lashes out at my very being. His words stab me with the force of a blunt knife.
He laughs when he sees my expression. “Don’t mistake me. You are nothing more than the physical embodiment of my life’s work. But that work has become important to me. Almost as much as breathing. I couldn’t pass up the chance to witness your rebirth.”
My feet take a reflexive step back, and I notice Ezra go rigid where he stands in front of me.
“For nearly fifteen years,” Dr. Richter continues, “I’ve been driven by one thought more than anything else. I’ve bided my time, waiting for the perfect moment to exact my revenge as you so graciously put it. What makes it all the more satisfying is that it’ll affect you more than anyone, dear brother.”
“You hate me because of your own deluded issues. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve more than made your point.”
I flinch when Richter begins to laugh. The sound bounces off the walls, swarming around us in a vocal cloud.
Out of my peripheral vision, I notice Jenner and Quinn reposition themselves in preparation for the possibility that things are about to take a turn for the worse.
When his laughter ceases, a simple question takes its place.
“You still don’t get it, do you?”
I push Ezra aside, bringing myself within a foot of those perceptive gray eyes. “What I don’t get is why we’re wasting time talking about this with everything going on out there.” Casting a quick glance over my shoulder, I add in a lowered voice, “I came back. I’m here now. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”
Fixing my eyes on Richter, I stop myself from looking back when I hear Ezra and Jenner begin to protest. After all, they react just as I expect them to. Just as I always knew they would if they had any idea what I was planning.
“That wasn’t why we came here!” Jenner shouts.
In a pleading whisper, Ezra mutters my name.
Taking a deep breath, I confront the one outcome I’ve been avoiding this whole time. Ezra stares at me, and I can see the confusion and fear working its way across his face. His expression makes me think of that moment back in the compound when he made me swear that I wouldn’t run away again.
If only he knew how much I wish I could keep that promise.
Tears burn my eyes as I murmur the only two words I seem to know. “I’m sorry.”
He screams for me to stop, but I’ve already begun concentrating on what needs to be done.
There’s no other way.
My mind kicks into action, and in one easy movement, I rip the weapons from their hands. They clatter against the floor as a large bubble of pressure builds up in my chest. Tears roll down my cheeks, but I commit to this betrayal and focus my power on the only people I can trust.
Ezra chokes out my name again as I use my ability to lift him into the air. Breathing out, I pin his body to the wall and then do the same with Jenner and Quinn. In the back of my mind, I imagine the glass and steel desk on the opposite side of the room, and all it takes is a single thought to bend it to my will. Within seconds, it’s twisted around the three of them in a vise-like restraint.
I exhale when the deed is done, ignoring Ezra’s expression as I turn back toward Dr. Richter. A smug grin takes shape on his face, but I ignore that as well.
“We can stop what’s happening. We can fix things together, just like you said. No one else has to die.”
Leaning forward, he brushes his hand in a tender caress against my cheek. I resist the urge to shy away from him, but the glow in his eyes alarms me even more than his proximity.
“My precious angel of death.” Bringing his face close to mine, his lips tickle my ear when he whispers, “Do you really believe that I wish to fix this?”
Bewilderment rips through me as an intense feeling of fear swells up inside my body. Reeling back, my eyes latch onto his, but words fail me when the cold hand of ter
ror grips my throat.
“For years, my mother spoke of you,” he says, “and I knew exactly who you were from the very moment we met. It was almost too perfect. Like killing two birds with one stone.”
“What are you talking about?” I stammer.
“My perfect revenge and my greatest curiosity tied together in a single entity. The unanswerable question as to what my mother saw. The source of the repetitive visions that killed her. The one thing my brother would love more than anything else, and the very thing it would destroy him to lose.”
Suddenly, it hits me.
How could I have been so stupid?
I’ve been playing into his hands this entire time. He wanted this.
He always wanted this.
“You sparked my curiosity, and I had to know more.” His eyes trail across my face with an unwanted fondness. “I spent two years trying to create more of you, but every time the experiment failed. Don’t you understand, Wynter? You are perfection. You are one of a kind, just like the beautiful blood that runs through your veins.”
His hands glide through my hair, grabbing hold of my head and pulling me close to him.
“It was always meant to be you and me. We were meant to come together and see this through to the end.”
My eyes widen as his true intentions finally come to light. They rise up like a wave and crash over my entire being, pulling me under the surface and holding me there.
Drowning me.
That terrible smile—the one that always took hold of his lips when he tortured me.
I see it again now.
“What you fail to understand is that I don’t wish to save this world. I wish to see it burn. My greatest desire is to witness my mother’s vision. Your vision.” He glances past me as if I no longer exist. “And I wish for Ezra to watch it happen. To watch you die and not be able to lift a finger to prevent it, just like I was unable to stop him from poisoning Raina against me.”
A raging hysteria twists my stomach, but I can’t move. I can’t breathe.
He continues, even though the voice in my head is screaming for him to stop.