Grim Judgment

by Jennifer Reinfried

  “See, the military found out there were two types of people in existence. There’s what we call Normals and then there’s Evolved, or Evos.” He raised his hands when he saw the look on Jaxon’s face, laughing. “I know, it’s lame. I didn’t come up with it.”

  “Evos.”

  “Yeah. Normals are just your everyday men and women. Some people, though, have subtle abilities not shared with the rest of the population. Most aren’t notable, mind you, are nothing that can be used for good or evil. Hell, most Evos don’t know they’re different, they just assume their ability is normal. I know of one girl who never has to blink. Another who doesn’t need water to survive. Some, though, have better abilities than others, more powerful ones, and those are the Evos that were targeted for DNA donation. I heard of a male donor who couldn’t feel pain. Another could transfer his consciousness into others and see what they see.”

  “This is a lot to take in...” Jaxon turned his attention on the closed door they had come through earlier, his mind still half on Shawn. He didn’t hear anything other than steady muted beeps that filtered under the doorway.

  “He’ll be fine. Naomi is never wrong.”

  “She’s an Evo, too?” Jaxon looked at his dirty hands.

  “No. She’s a Synth. Like you and me.”

  “I’m confused again.”

  “The people at the lab mixed the DNA of Evos to create Synths.”

  “Create? Like, they injected us with it?”

  An uncomfortable look flickered over Aaron’s face. “No. Create. From scratch.”

  Jaxon thought for a moment. How could they possibly...He felt numb when he realized what the man meant. “So I wasn’t even born? I was...was grown?”

  “I mean, we were still born to a surrogate mother, but our embryos were created in the lab, yes. We all were. You, me. Naomi. Shawn. All of the Synths.”

  “So my dad isn’t even my dad?” Jaxon could feel anger beginning to bubble in his stomach.

  “Bruce is your father, yes. That’s a longer story, and one I feel he should tell you himself.”

  “He knew? Why the hell wouldn’t he have told me?” Unconscious trembles begin to shake his fingers. He stood from the chair and began to pace, squeezing his hands into fists at his side.

  Aaron stood as well. He had an odd look in his eyes, and he lifted a hand, placing his fingertips against the scar that marred the left side of his face. “Maybe you should talk to Duncan instead.” He watched Jaxon pace, and took a small, nearly imperceivable step back.

  “So what, I was created in a test tube to grow up and fight wars?”

  “Yes. They created a few different types, all ideal for either battle or tactical purposes.”

  “This is bullshit,” Jaxon spat. “Shawn and I grew up together. I remember—”

  “What’s your earliest memory?”

  Jaxon paused his back and forth movements. He had a sick feeling he knew where this was going. Neither I nor Shawn had memories before Dad picked us up, at the orphanage.

  “It wasn’t an orphanage.”

  Jaxon’s stomach flipped. “The fuck?”

  “Sorry, sorry. I can’t help it. I can’t turn it off.” Aaron shrugged. “We Synths are all flawed. They never perfected anyone’s powers other than Shawn’s before the incident. I can read minds, but I can’t drown people out.” He chuckled, his blue eyes sad. “It can get quite loud at times. It never stops.

  “Mari can stop time, but only for a short while. Naomi, she has flashes of the future, and what she sees always comes true, but in her twenty-eight years, she’s had only seven premonitions. She can’t control them, can’t cause them to happen, and the majority of her life is lived as a Normal.” He sat back down.

  “This is fucked up.” Jaxon followed suit, his chest numb with the excess of incredible information. “This is all just fucked up. Why the hell would they do this to us?”

  “Well, Duncan said my ability was, once perfected, to be used to read the minds of the enemy, know what’s coming before it happened. You could see how invaluable Mari’s could be in a battle. Shawn’s was to breed someone who was quicker and stronger than the enemy, capable of healing from wounds faster than anyone possibly could.”

  “And mine? What the hell is my power for?”

  Aaron’s eyes darkened slightly. “We don’t know.”

  “Why not?”

  “Your caretakers died in the accident. Everyone’s files were burned afterward by the government to eliminate proof of the experiments. Duncan didn’t know everything, but he did know a couple of things about you. First, the more you connect with the wraiths, the more real they are. He thinks you’re tapping into a—” Aaron’s eyes suddenly went slack and distant, as they did earlier.

  Jaxon frowned. “A what?”

  “They’ve stabilized him.” Aaron smiled, then looked at the door to Shawn’s room right as it opened.

  “He’s going to be fine.” Duncan’s beard shifted as he smiled at Jaxon, who propelled himself out of his chair and moved forward. “Hold up. Just a second. He needs his rest. Just...give him some space while you’re in there. Don’t try to wake him.” He stepped to the side, and Jaxon could see Shawn.

  The Grim suit lay in a tangled, bloodied heap on a counter near the head of the bed. Large white bandages speckled with a deep red adorned his brother’s bare torso, and a clean sheet was pulled up to his elbows. His chest rose and fell steadily, but his eyes were shut.

  “I want to sit with him. Until he wakes up.” Jaxon looked up at Duncan.

  The older man looked down at him in silence for a moment, then nodded. “We’ll get you a chair. Might even have a cot or mattress we can set up in there, so you can stay through the night.” He looked at Aaron, who nodded and walked out of the room.

  Jaxon moved to Shawn’s side and took his hand. “Thank you. For saving his life. Both of ours.”

  “Of course.” Duncan stepped up next to him. “You’re part of our family.”

  “I don’t understand so much of this. How any of this is possible? Who you people are, my past, how my dad fits into it all?” He squeezed his eyes shut.

  “There’s a lot to learn, a lot for us to tell you, but we have to get back to Colorado first. We can’t transport Shawn, so he needs to stay here and rest. When he’s healed, I want you to come find us.”

  “Wait, what? You’re leaving us?” Jaxon opened his eyes and stared at Duncan, who looked back at him with a firm gaze.

  “We work hard in Colorado. There’s much to be done, and the more Synths that are out of commission while we’re here, the further behind we get.”

  “Work? What work? How is that more important than this right now? Than Shawn?”

  “He’s stable. The doctor here will work with him until he’s capable of being on his own. At that time, call this number, preferably from a payphone.” Duncan held out a small, folded piece of paper. “We can help you, Jax. Help you understand what you’re going through, you and Shawn.”

  Jaxon snatched the paper from the older man’s fingers. “This is bullshit, you know.”

  “You can come with us,” Duncan offered. “But Shawn needs to rest and recover before he’s moved. It’s up to you. Come with and let the people here get Shawn to Colorado when he’s healed, or stay here and come together later.”

  “Fuck you. Just leave.” Jaxon crumpled the paper and threw it on the floor, rage burning low in his chest.

  Duncan bent and picked up the little ball. “When you’re ready.” He rested it on the remains of Shawn’s suit. “Come find us. We’ll help you control your wraiths.” He began to back out of the room. “And reverse Shawn’s blindness so he can see again.”

  Jaxon’s head snapped toward the man who now stood in the doorway. “What did you—”

  A small hand appeared on Duncan’s shoulder, then suddenly the frame was completely empty. Jaxon could see into the next room, and another wave of déjà vu hit him. His mouth hung open, and his heartbea
t picked up. “What the fuck?”

  “They do that a lot.” Sarah, the doctor, bustled into the room once more. “It gets so annoying.”

  “What...what just...?”

  “Mari. That’s what it’s like being on the other end of her power, being frozen. They love to use her so they can waltz out of difficult situations.”

  “So they’re gone?”

  “Well, from what I’ve heard, she used a lot of her power tonight. Probably only had a few minutes left in her, but yeah, they’re heading back home.”

  “That’s fucking bullshit.”

  “Tell me about it.” She held a large, fuzzy, green robe, a small bag, and two bottles in her hands, which she offered to Jaxon. “We couldn’t find a mattress, but I can bring two chairs in here. You could sit in one, put your legs up on the other. Not the most comfortable, I know, but I promise in the morning, once we’ve all rested, we’ll get you better accommodations.”

  “No, that’ll be fine.” Jaxon’s eyes felt as if they were being bogged down with lead. He accepted the robe and bottles, which turned out to be shampoo. The bag held an unopened toothbrush and a travel-sized tube of toothpaste.

  “There’s a toilet and shower in there.” Sarah pointed at a door off to the side of the large room. She turned to leave.

  “Thank you. I don’t mean to be rude.” Jaxon took a step toward her.

  “You’ve been through so much.” She shot him a smile. “I’d be upset right now, too, if I were you. I understand.”

  “Still. Thank you. For everything.”

  Sarah nodded. “Get some rest. I’ll be checking in on you two periodically.” With that, she left the room. Jaxon stood next to Shawn, his body exhausted, his mind racing, unsure of what to do next.

  —-

  Grant’s hurried steps were drowned out by the world’s bustle, the pale pink and blue of the morning’s first light decorating sidewalks, businesses, and people alike. His eyes, weak and burning from lack of sleep, shifted back and forth as he maneuvered around a jogger, then an elderly woman walking an excitable dog. His gaze came to rest on a trio of sleek SUVs, and he angled himself toward the one in the middle.

  Pulling the door open, he slid inside, the warmth of the vehicle’s interior contrasting the gentle chill of Redborough’s winter. He dropped the duffel bag he’d been carrying to the floor, glanced up once the door shut, and nodded at Ivan Vance. “It’s done, sir. I’m pleased to report that, as always, the media gobbled up the lies about Grim.”

  “Good.” Vance’s pale blue gaze bored into Grant, chilling his innards. “And Emma?”

  “Missing, sir.” His heart picked up speed, and his throat was so dry, he could barely swallow.

  “Missing.” There was no upward lilt to insinuate a question.

  “Yes, sir.

  Vance leaned back, still not taking his eyes off of Grant. “Elena. Please take us to Wallace’s.”

  A woman’s voice trailed to the back from the driver’s seat. “On it.”

  Desperate to shake his boss’ hard stare, Grant turned in his seat. “Officer Valdez? Not on duty today?”

  “No, sir. My day off.”

  “I didn’t know you worked for us on the side, too.”

  “Once in a great while.” Her eyes met his in the rearview mirror for a brief moment, a smile crinkling the sides of her smooth face.

  Vance cleared his throat, and Grant whipped his attention back.

  “Many lives were lost because of Alex.” The Russian folded thick hands on his lap. “Many problems created. The general public has seen something ne ot mira sego.” Grant glanced at him with apparent confusion and Vance scowled. “You need to learn Russian.”

  “I’ll get right on it, sir.” Grant resisted the urge to roll his eyes, lest he lose one of them.

  “Not of this world. The reports I have heard paint a hellish picture in my mind. Placing blame on Grim is good. The man you said had viciously attacked your officers on the roof has vanished. You said he was with Grim, meaning they know each other, so I assume once we find one, we find the other. Here is the issue.” Vance leaned forward, shifting to the side as Elena turned a corner. “These people want me dead, want every single one of us dead. The powers those men have may be too much for us to handle at the moment. I offer my top people to go into hiding with me, wait this out, yourself included.”

  Grant blinked. “I see.”

  “This is Isaac’s, no?” Vance gestured at the duffel bag on the floor.

  “It is.”

  “It was on roof?”

  Don’t tell him. “No. I put it together myself, threw in some things I figured he would want. The only thing I found on the roof was his cell, which is in the side pocket. Battery’s dead.”

  Vance’s eyes bored into him. “Thank you. We will take it to Wallace.” He leaned back again. “If you want to stay with me, out of danger, I have a bunker in Northern California that no one but Alex knew about. I have also organized a task force to eliminate these pridurki.” He waved a hand in irritation. “I will have you help me secure the bunker, then will send you out on the task force.”

  Grant nodded.

  “Sir?” Elena twisted around in the driver’s seat a moment, looking back at them.

  “Yes, my dear, what is it?”

  “I know you offered the same to me and I refused, but...I mean, you know it’s an honor working for you, and that I want to help track these men down...I just...”

  “Out with it.”

  She cleared her throat, fingers tight on the wheel. “My son. He’s nine. I know it’s asking too much, but if our enemies go after—”

  “Once I’m settled I’ll have someone on the outside bring your boy to me. I will keep him safe.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Vance looked out at the passing scenery and fell silent, ending conversation for the rest of the ride.

  Thirteen minutes later, Elena pulled up behind a small, two-story house on Redborough’s North side. Exiting the vehicle, Grant straightened and stretched his arms up to the ever lightening sky. The front door opened and a grizzled, leathery-skinned man stepped outside.

  “Wallace.” The Russian climbed up a worn porch and extended his hand. “How is Isaac?”

  “Almost lost him, but he’s stable now. Kid’s a fighter.”

  Vance grinned. “Of course he is. You have kept him sedated, no?”

  “Yep. Just like you asked.” Wallace turned all of a sudden and started back through the door. The other three followed close behind him.

  They passed through a long hallway with smooth walls painted a pale green. The barking of multiple dogs sounded in the distance, but grew as they moved through the building. Vance raised his voice over the noise as they turned a corner. Addressing Wallace, he said, “I have a proposition for you.”

  “Sir?”

  “The chain of events that occurred last night were tragic. The culprits that caused the entire incident are still at large. They are no doubt still out to find me, which could mean you are at risk as well. I think the best course of action for anyone involved at this time is to come to one of our secure locations and wait this out.”

  “You mean abandon my practice?”

  “Your podiatry office is a front, Wallace. Your patients will survive.”

  “I know. Doesn’t mean I don’t like helping them.”

  “You still have a license because of me. It will not be permanent. Just until these people are caught. We are all having to make sacrifices, myself included.”

  “True. Yeah, makes sense. I’ll put up a sign or something.”

  “Good. You are valuable to me.” Vance clapped the older man on the shoulder.

  “I’ll get my van ready.”

  “Thank you, Wallace. Make sure it is equipped and able to transport Isaac while he is sedated.”

  “You got it, sir.” He waved at a closed door. “Isaac is in here. I’d say keep quiet so you don’t disturb him, but he’s too drugged
up to hear much.” Wallace turned, grumbling about finding supplies.

  “Grant.” Vance turned toward him.

  “Sir.”

  “Go help Wallace set up the van.” Vance turned and disappeared into a dark, quiet room.

  The sky had turned to a happy light blue by the time Grant stepped outside. Bloated white clouds hung above him, seemingly motionless, as if they were taunting him, pretending everything was cheerful and easy, when he knew the exact opposite would plague him for a long time to come.

  Chapter Four

  THEN

  1982

  The day after I made my first jump into someone else’s body, I had to work at ten in the morning, which was the last thing I wanted to do when I woke up. My body was stiff and sore, a stern reminder of the arduous strain it endured yesterday. I lay in bed and carefully stretched, wincing at the twinges of odd aches in places I never thought could hurt. It took me a few more minutes of just laying still, staring around at the Led Zeppelin posters that lined my walls before I gathered the courage to face my body’s protests.

  “Ow...ow...ow...” I rose from the mattress and swung my legs over its edge. Letting out a sigh I rubbed the bleariness from my eyes which, of course, also hurt. Figures.

  Without turning the light on, I stood and made my way to a small closet, mindful of the large silver stereo on its side on the carpeted floor. It had been busted for a few weeks now. I kept meaning to try to fix it, but never got around to the task. I had, however, stubbed my toes on it more than once.

  A few dirty shirts lay scattered in my path, and I ignored those too. With a yawn, I pulled open the closet door and stood staring into the dim depths of the tiny area with a slightly unfocused gaze.

  The events of the previous night flooded back to me, and my thoughts snapped into focus. I need to try again, I thought. A glance at the time, however, showed me how late I already was. I hurriedly pulled on a black t-shirt with a print of Rush splayed across the front, then yanked on a pair of light blue jeans. I had to settle for mismatched socks from the floor.

  My mother was still sleeping, her door shut against the rest of the house, no doubt shrouded in complete darkness with her thick curtains drawn. Not wanting to wake her, I shuffled the opposite way and slipped into the bathroom.