by James Moore
“Here I come.” He looked at her and leered, but she knew he was only joking. This time at least. Hank was still a scary dude, even if she knew they were on the same side.
She grinned and climbed into the car. “Come get me if you can.”
She didn’t hear his response. She was too busy working on forcing the doors open from the inside.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Joe Bronx
OH, THE RAGE WAS burning so brightly! Joe’s anger was a living thing. He’d wanted so much from this, a chance to see his mother, yes, but also a chance to get all of the information he needed on the rest of the Failures, the ones given up for adoption. He needed them, especially if he was going to win this little war he’d started.
Because it wasn’t enough to make Evelyn cry. He wanted to ruin her. If she could not or would not help him, then he needed her to be beyond the point where she could make more like him. Joe needed to be unique. He could accept a few, a small number like him, so long as he was their leader. And being an Alpha almost guaranteed that. But the notion of an endless supply of others like him—only better trained—was not acceptable. Evelyn needed to be stopped. More importantly he needed to be the one who stopped her, because she needed to hate him as much as he hated her before he finally killed her, and she wasn’t quite there yet. Not just yet, but hopefully soon.
He’d tried ten doors in the damnable place before he realized he could never find what he was looking for with guards everywhere and who knew how many Doppelgangers wandering around with weapons. Just because he had only seen six of them didn’t mean there weren’t more somewhere in the sprawling complex. How big was the place? If he had to hazard a guess, it was somewhere close to the size of a decent shopping mall. He couldn’t be sure, because he had mostly run along corridors and through hallways and connecting passages.
He heard Hank’s voice in his head, calling for him, and he finally decided to listen to it. Better to leave for now. He could find them again when the time came. It would take effort, but he was wounded—and badly, much worse than he wanted to admit. He was bleeding freely from too many wounds, and even with his constitution and strength he would falter soon. And then he would fall, if he wasn’t extremely careful.
Almost as if to prove him right, his vision swam and started to gray for a second before he bit down on his tongue hard enough to make it bleed. The sudden pain helped him focus and move again, though he bounced off the wall before he finally made the last hallway between him and freedom. Two men were standing, facing a doorway where he could see Not-Tina and Sam, both of them with guns drawn and trying to get a good aim at the guards, who were now crouched down and trying to avoid being shot. Between the two groups, a couple of others lay dead or bleeding out. He didn’t know which and didn’t much care. Rather than waste time worrying about it, he simply grabbed the two guards who were facing away from him and smashed their heads together as hard as he could. Wounded or not, he was still strong. Their helmets shattered, and both of them fell flat and unmoving.
Not-Tina looked at him with a frown, assessing his damage. She didn’t say anything, and neither did he. Sam merely pointed to the elevator door and Joe took the hint. The boy said something, but he couldn’t hear the words. Not yet. He could feel a distinct itch that told him the damage he’d inflicted to himself was mending, but at a guess he would be at least another day or more before he could hear properly again.
His muscles shook with exhaustion, and Not-Tina—who was climbing behind him—had to help him stay on the ladder as they scaled their way to freedom.
When they were all at the top of the elevator shaft, Joe stared down into the hole at the bottom of the car. So much he’d planned to learn, and none of it had gone the way he’d wanted.
Evelyn would pay for that too. But later, after she’d had time to recover from the murder of her precious “son.” For now, he was perfectly glad knowing that she was suffering.
Not-Tina pointed to a car as they left the building. The land-yacht was large and expensive and that suited him fine. She fished in her jeans pocket and pulled out car keys. He didn’t want to ask, and even if he had, he couldn’t have heard her answer.
Joe made it to the backseat before he collapsed. He was starving and exhausted and in pain and before he could think about anything else, he was also unconscious. Blood loss can do that to a person.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Sam Hall
SAM SUGGESTED THEY LEAVE the car a few miles from the hotel, and as much as all of them would have preferred to ride in luxury, they decided he was being smart. They left the keys in the ignition and the doors unlocked at a Wal-Mart parking lot, and then they walked the rest of the way. Since it was his suggestion, Sam got to carry Joe.
Hank was still exhausted and weak, but Not-Kyrie helped him get to the rooms.
They couldn’t find the room keys, but Theresa put down the briefcase she’d stolen from the car long enough to pick the locks. Apparently Tina not only knew how to pick locks, she was also pretty mean at hot wiring cars, a fact that Theresa shared without hesitation.
No one bothered to point out that they would have been perfectly fine with getting to the hotel in another stolen car. They were all too tired for the argument, and all very aware that a fight would have been inevitable if they’d chastised her. Besides, she’d come for them when she could have run off, and that meant more than walking a couple of miles.
There was no partying that night. While the Hydes usually liked a good celebration, they were all too sore and too tired. Instead Not-Kyrie walked to the closest convenience store and brought back bags of candy and junk food, and they ate in silence before they passed out.
All except for Joe, who did not wake up that night—not even when Theresa was cleaning his wounds and bandaging them as best she could using hotel towels and strips of the gray jumpsuits that most of them had been wearing.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Hunter Harrison
IN THE NIGHT THEY reverted, becoming smaller, weaker and arguably more human. All except Hank, who did not change, but slept as heavily as any of the others.
Not-Kyrie had been wise enough to put out the Do Not Disturb signs on the doors. They were not disturbed, and all of them slept the next day away, recovering from the stress and the chemicals that had left them sluggish and weakened.
When the next morning came, however, they awoke to the smell of fresh food and a great deal of coffee. Hank had gone out and grabbed a very large breakfast for the entire lot of them.
And if they all looked at Hank a little strangely, it was only because he was the only Other present as they ate and sorted through what had happened to all of them.
It was rough. As a unit they had slept through the entire situation—except Hank, who had been in and out of a fever high enough to mess with his perceptions.
“So did we learn anything?” Hunter spoke after listening to the others try to piece everything together.
Tina looked at him and pointed to the briefcase. “Found the key for that in my pocket. I looked at the papers, but they don’t mean much to me.” She shrugged and looked at her feet. “I was never that good in school.”
Gene looked at the contents of the briefcase while they ate, and he was the one who made the connections.
“This all belongs to someone named Josh Warburton. I think that’s the name on your note to Evelyn Hunter? Anyway, a lot of this is just notes on expense accounts and the like, but there’s a list of names here that I think is all of the kids who were adopted out like us. It’s not complete—they don’t all have current addresses—but there’s a lot of names.”
“What makes you sure they’re all adopted out like us?” Kyrie leaned toward him and stared into his eyes with an intensity that made him look away and blush a bit.
“Simple. We’re all on the list.”
“We have to call them. We have to warn them.” That was Kyrie again. She looked from one to the next of the group, pr
actically willing them to agree with her.
Gene frowned at her. “With all due respect, why? Who are they to us?”
“They’re like us, Gene. They need to be warned because no one deserves to get captured and locked away or worse.” She looked toward Hank for a moment, then at Hunter, and it seemed she was almost afraid to finish her words. “We need to warn them, because they might not know what’s waiting inside of them.”
Hank shook his head. “That means Janus is going to figure out who we are soon enough. We can’t call home again. Not unless we want these guys coming after our families.” He grew silent for a moment.
“What’s wrong?” Hunter saw the worry on the Other’s face.
“I don’t think Cody could go home either way.”
“Why not?”
Hank held out his hands and shrugged. “Cody’s in here, with me. We can talk to each other. But we can’t change. I haven’t been able to become Cody. I think maybe I’m stuck this way.”
Kyrie quickly looked away. All of them understood what she was thinking and worrying about. If it could happen to Cody, it could happen to any of them. Suddenly, changing was looking like a dangerous proposition.
Hunter stood up and peered out the window of the hotel room, his skin crawling with the sensation that someone was watching him. It was almost a sure sign that Joe was waking up and wanted to get out.
Not yet, he prayed. Not yet and not today.
He was scared, though he wasn’t quite sure why. He was also heartbroken. He’d seen his family—had spoken to his mother and his brother—and he ached to be with them again.
But he was scared, too. Because he had the damnedest feeling that something had gone wrong, and no idea where the notion was coming from.
But he would have bet a hundred dollars that Joe knew.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Hank
YOU IN THERE?
Yeah. Cody’s voice came back smooth and easy, like maybe they were standing right next to each other.
How are we going to do this? Are you going to try to make your folks understand?
Seriously, dude? I don’t even understand it myself.
We let the body decide. It decided this was the best way for us to live, I guess. He paused for a moment and then asked, You okay with this, Cody?
I kind of have to be, don’t I? Cody answered.
Well, yeah, I guess so.
Tell you one thing, though.
Yeah? What’s that?
Hank could imagine the smile on Cody’s face when he answered. We ever get back to Ohio, I’m gonna beat the crap out of Wagner and Chadbourne myself.
Hank chuckled. Gotta say, it wasn’t the least fun I’ve ever had. They’ve kind of losers.
So let’s get serious for a second. Can you actually hear their thoughts? The Others like you?
I have to work at it, but yeah. I can hear them. Sort of. I won’t, though. It ain’t cool. That’s what started the fight between me and Joe. He just does whatever he wants, and that ain’t cool at all.
So, can you influence their minds?
Hank took a while before he answered. Maybe, why?
I’ll give you a dollar if you make Tina not yell at me anymore.
Hank laughed inside his head, and Cody joined him.
See, I thought you were going to ask me to make Kyrie fall for you.
You could do that? The absolute awe in Cody’s voice was as hammed up as a can of Spam.
You wish, bro.
Yessiree, as a matter of fact I do. How are we going to get through this, Hank? What the heck are we? What did we become?
Hank shrugged. Stronger, I think. I mean, look at Joe and Hunter. I bet they can’t talk like this. I bet they can’t work together like you and me can now. If they could, maybe they wouldn’t be so worried about trying to stop each other.
You think it could happen to the rest of them? What happened to us?
We didn’t do it on purpose. We just figured out how to survive, Cody. If I knew how to make it happen for the others, I’d show them. But I don’t know if Joe and Hunter could ever agree long enough to survive.
There was nothing to see, and yet he sense that Cody was nodding in agreement. They were both silent for a few moments and then Cody spoke again. Shame about you not being able to control Kyrie, though. Be cool if you could make her like us.
She already likes you.
Garbage. Cody laughed.
No, seriously, I saw the way she looked at you.
Dude, we share eyes, remember? Besides, she’s a cheerleader. Digs guys with actual muscle tone, right?
Not sure if you noticed, bud, but we’re kind of cut. Cody chuckled in his head. I guess we are. This new body thing is going to take getting used to. How are we going to do this? I mean, are you gonna be in charge all the time? Or are we going to take turns?
We’ll have to try to work out a schedule, I guess.
And what are we going to do about Joe?
Hank frowned. Joe?
Yeah. He kind of hates you, dude.
Guess we’ll just have to watch our back until we figure all of this out.
Cody had no answer to that.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Evelyn Hope
EVELYN AND GEORGE ATTENDED the funeral along with everyone else at the Boston compound. Gabriel had been well liked by his peers and admired by the adults who knew him.
And he had been loved by some too.
Evelyn allowed herself the luxury of tears, swearing it would only be the once in public. George cried with her. He had never known Gabriel very well, of course, but he cried for Evelyn. He understood her loss—her sorrow—and so he cried for her.
She promised herself she wouldn’t hold that against him later. It didn’t do to let people know of her weaknesses, not even someone she trusted as well as she trusted George.
The casket they lowered into the ground was empty, of course. Gabriel’s body was taken for study, and it was best not to leave any evidence that could come back to haunt them later, anyway. When the studies were done, his body would be cremated. Still, she cried as the casket was lowered into the ground. And when George was tossing a handful of dirt onto the empty wooden box, Evelyn tugged at the gold chain around her neck until the fine metal links snapped and freed her wedding ring and the bronzed tooth from her Bobby.
She tossed her prized possession into the grave and watched without expression as the undertakers began burying the last of her family in the ground.
The time for sentiment was over.
Gabby was dead. Bobby was dead to her also. Even if she could separate him from Subject Seven, she would never be able to forgive his latest sin.
The attendees cried, of course. They had lost one of their own, a classmate and a good friend. She wasn’t sure what they would do with the Strike Team now: they had never lost an Alpha before, excluding only Subject Seven. And as far as she knew, the Alphas had to come from the same group in order for a connection to exist. Still, that was a problem for another day.
There were more pressing matters to take care of.
She waited until the mourners had left and then waited until George calmed himself down.
“George?”
“Yes, Evelyn?”
“Did you double-check with Josh and his people regarding the tracking devices?”
“Yes, Evelyn. Of course. They were implanted in all of them, except the one with the snake tattoo.”
“What was the effective range again?”
“No more than two miles, three on the outside.” He spoke softly.
“Well, we’ll have to work with what we have, won’t we?”
“Yes, Evelyn.”
“And George?”
“Yes, Evelyn?”
She looked around the cemetery, then down at the ground where her son should have been buried if he had been a real boy and not merely an experiment to which she had grown attached.
“Get the list of chi
ldren adopted out from Josh and his people. And then have them killed.”
George looked at her for several seconds, his mouth trembling. Finally he nodded. “Yes, Evelyn.”
And that was why she kept him as her assistant. He was decidedly efficient and never questioned her when she was in the mood to be obeyed.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Joe Bronx
HE HURT EVERYWHERE. NOT just physically—but in his mind, which was currently locked inside the darkness where it hid when Hunter was in charge.
Still, the pain was nothing new, not really. He’d been in constant pain for the first ten years of his life. Pain was an old friend, or at least an acquaintance who was feeling awfully familiar.
Gabby was dead. Evelyn was hurting. She was angry, and she was grieving and she probably wanted him dead and buried. And that meant they were finally on even footing.
For ten years he’d been forced to endure tortures and indignities, had been held captive and treated as nothing more than a lab rat. That would never happen again; he’d made himself a promise a long time ago, and though nothing had gone as he’d planned, he was still satisfied with the end results.
Evelyn was wounded. Even better, Hunter would be so very angry when he found out. And there was no way around the fact that Joe loved that thought. It soothed the aches in his mind and body alike to know that Hunter was going to absolutely lose his mind when he heard about this. And he would hear about it eventually. There was no way around that either. If he didn’t read about it in a newspaper, he’d find out the next time one of Evelyn’s new breed of soldiers encountered them.
Would there be a next time? Of course. He had no doubt about all of that. There would be a next time, because his mother would never forgive him now, and she was a relentless creature. He knew that from experience. She’d proven it to him a hundred times.