Jaden Baker

by Courtney Kirchoff

  “Same father. Dalton told me about it, right before...” he swallowed, but perked up when he saw Christine dashing back to the car with a steak knife in her hand. She crawled back into the car, over his lap, and sat down, sawing at the material protecting the collar.

  Libby couldn’t watch, she imagined Christine losing her grip, sawing off Jaden’s head, blood everywhere, screaming. The image made her sick, and she cursed her vivid imagination. Taking deep breaths, she looked out her window and watched cars drive by.

  “Can you see it now?” Jaden asked.

  “Yeah, it’s a chain, pretty complex.”

  “Can you blow it off?”

  “I think so.”

  “Wait, wait,” Alan said. “It’s tapped into his spinal column.”

  “Gross,” Christine said. “I’ll try breaking a link and we can just unwrap it.”

  Libby had to watch. Jaden’s glanced at her then away, his cheeks flushed. But he shouldn’t be embarrassed by this. She was so angry with how Madrid had made him feel subhuman, an object. If he was here right now she could easily strangle him.

  Christine gripped the collar with her fingers and held her breath, concentrating on something. After ten seconds, there was a clink. She pulled back the material she’d cut, and worked one chain link out of another.

  “There,” she said, and Jaden pushed her hands away and he took the collar in both of his, gently pulled the back of it up at an angle, as if he’d done this before...

  He scratched his neck and tossed the collar in the back of the car. “Thank you,” he muttered to Christine.

  She nodded, kissed his cheek, squirmed to the driver’s seat, powered on the car, and drove on. They headed east for a while, then turned south, going up a hill towards a red and white electrical tower. They didn’t go straight for it, but curved around the hill into residential territory.

  “We’re close,” Christine said, and Libby’s stomach was bubbling with nerves, her limbs numb. They drove up a street, going back up toward the top of the hill. The houses were large, close together, expensive. They had the classic San Francisco look to them: flat surfaces and straight angles, jutting windows and decks. Some of the houses were old, others more modern.

  “He lives on this street,” Christine said, slowing the car. “We can drive there, or park here and walk. What do you want to do?” she asked Jaden.

  “Drive past it, I want to see it first,” Jaden said. He reached back and unzipped one of the two suitcases and pulled from it a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. After scrounging around inside of it, he also found athletic shoes.

  Libby turned away, giving him privacy as he changed into his pants. She faced him when she heard him tying up the laces.

  “I want to borrow a gun,” Alan said.

  Libby hesitated before handing over one of her pistols, giving him the second magazine.

  The Land Rover climbed a hill. There were brick houses, grand in scale, modern concrete homes with windows facing their views, and then a Spanish villa at the top of the hill.

  “It’s that one,” Christine said.

  Jaden ran his hand through his hair and leaned across Libby to look out the window, to see the house he was about to enter.

  The house was enormous, the kind of home she expected him to have. The Daltons had frequently visited the Madrids before, but never at this house. She didn’t say it aloud, but she thought this home was new to Madrid.

  Christine drove to the end of the street and stopped the car. “Well?” she asked.

  “Park it across the street from the house, maybe diagonally,” Jaden said.

  Libby felt like throwing up. They didn’t know the layout of the house, if Madrid was home or not, if he had big guns, swords, or dogs. They were blind.

  Alan, the only other person there who was wholly unremarkable, bent over, putting his head between his knees. He’d planned a simple getaway. The last minute attack wasn’t his idea. He probably wished Jaden and Libby had taken the extra car, gone and started a new life. It would’ve made his life much less likely to end in the next few minutes.

  Christine parked kitty-corner to Madrid’s house.

  “Oh God,” Libby whispered, her hands shaking.

  “I’m not sure I want you to come,” Jaden said to her. “Maybe you and Alan should go on without us.”

  Alan jerked out of his slump, looking at Libby expectantly.

  “It’s just, if Madrid’s inside, he might be able to control me,” Jaden said, staring at his feet. “I don’t want to hurt you. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened.”

  Abandonment wasn’t an option. She remembered the state she found him in, even when they first met, how scared he was to go back to Archcroft. He had told her everything Madrid had done to him, and it had enraged her. At the time she’d forced herself to look strong and calm. Thinking it over, though, she had always wanted to kill the bastard.

  Then she thought of the other Jaden, the one who marched up the stairs, wet from the rain, and told her that if he had a choice, he’d never be separated from her.

  “You won’t hurt me. I couldn’t live with myself if I left you,” Libby said.

  Christine and Alan were silent in the front seats, trying to act as if they weren’t there.

  “Are you sure?” Jaden said. “He said he’d do things to you if I disobeyed him again.”

  Libby nodded, tears threatening her stability. “Then we need to finish this. It’s time for Madrid to meet his maker. Have his maker send him to Hell.” She gave him a watery, weak smile.

  “Always with the jokes,” he said heavily. “Okay, let’s go in.”

  Jaden was out of car first, then Alan and Libby, Christine last. They jogged across the street and up the brick stairs that flowed up the hill to the front door of Madrid’s non-humble abode. They couldn’t be seen by anyone inside, as no windows looked down on the entryway.

  “Is he home?” Alan asked, gun pointed to the ground.

  Jaden and Christine both frowned, eyes darting through the house as if they had heightened visual skills and could see beyond the walls.

  “I don’t sense anything,” Christine said, and she sounded alarmed. “You?”

  Jaden shook his head.

  “So he’s not home?” Alan asked, hopeful.

  Jaden tried the door knob, slammed into it as he twist it, but the door wouldn’t open.

  “It’s locked?” Libby asked.

  Christine pushed Jaden aside, tried the knob but she couldn’t get the door to open either.

  “How’s he doing it?” Jaden asked, stepping back from the house, looking up to the roof and upstairs windows. “I don’t get it.”

  “What’s going on?” Alan asked.

  “I can’t feel anything,” Jaden said. “It’s like my PK is gone.”

  “Mine too,” Christine said. She reached her hand toward the car but nothing happened. She took the steps, and on the last step, the Land Rover shook on its tires.

  “So in this house, you’re just like us? No Jedi powers?” Libby whispered.

  Jaden shook his head.

  “How do we get in?” Alan asked.

  “We don’t,” Jaden said.

  Libby ran her hands along the top of the door jamb. Nothing there. The entryway was covered with plants. She tilted pots. Nothing underneath. Then she saw a rock. She picked it up, surprised by its lightness despite being quite large. She examined it, didn’t see an opening. Taking it in both hands, she threw it on the ground, where it shattered. Among the dust and rubble was a key. She picked it up and handed it to Jaden.

  “Don’t look so surprised,” she whispered. “Either one of them probably locked themselves out before.”

  “Either one of them?” Jaden asked as Christine came up the stairs, looking less confident than before.

  “Yeah. Joseph or Anita. His wife.”

  Jaden dropped the key. He had to search for it before sliding it into the door lock.

  “Anita?�
�� he hissed. “Anita is his wife? Are you serious?”

  “Does it sound like a joke?”

  “Anita the child therapist Anita?”

  Libby nodded. “Yeah. That’s the one. Are we going to unlock the door or have a chat about this guy’s family before we kill him?”

  “I agree, let’s just get this over with,” Christine said.

  Jaden cursed under his breath as he unlocked the door and swung it open.

  Libby raised her gun as she proceeded inside the dark house, grateful for the training she’d done with the NRA for home defense. She felt like a cop clearing a room, only there wouldn’t be a commercial to break up the suspense.

  Only one lamp was on downstairs. The entryway was large, leading into the living room. Madrid’s home was gorgeous: clay tiled floors, high ceilings, a stained glass window in one corner of the house, soft archways, Spanish style. Exposed wood beams in the ceiling added to the rustic feel of the place.

  The ground floor had an open floor plan, so it was easy to see that no one was downstairs unless they were hiding. Libby checked every room, just to make sure. Alan followed behind her, and Jaden and Christine trailed them, both visibly nervous and uncomfortable.

  Footsteps upstairs. Libby lowered her gun and stretched her neck up. Whoever was upstairs was walking the length of the house. She strained her ears, all four of them did, to listen. Hard as she tried, Libby could not hear voices. They had no way of knowing how many people were there.

  Christine was shaking her head, backing away. “I don’t like this,” she whispered.

  “Oh, do not go crazy on us now,” Libby whispered. “We need your help!”

  But Christine wasn’t listening. She was on the verge of a breakdown, her face screwed up in terror. Not watching where she was going, she bumped into a table, gasped, then dashed out of the open door.

  “I hate her,” Libby said, and Jaden watched her leave. He went to the doorway, and they all heard the Land Rover engage and drive off. “Who leaves us in a time like this? Leia would never do that to Luke. She is not your sister!”

  Jaden shut the door and tiptoed to the staircase and started up it, Libby following and Alan behind her. She tried finding the silver lining to Jaden not being able to use his ability in this house. If they did bump into Madrid, and he was able to...power Jaden on (she shook her head at the thought) there wasn’t much harm Jaden could do. Well, he could still do physical harm. There was no silver lining. She had tried convincing herself in the car that Jaden wouldn’t hurt her, even if manipulated, but it wasn’t a solid feeling.

  Before they reached the top step, Jaden held her back. “You should leave.”

  “Hell no,” she said.

  “I’m powerless here!” he whispered to her. “I can’t protect you!”

  Libby wiggled her gun. “That’s what the Glock is for.”

  “Libby, please,” he said, tugging her. “This isn’t your fight. It’s between me and him.”

  They didn’t have time for this, he should know that. Upstairs was a mad man. “Look,” she said, “I get that you want this to be a classic battle between good and evil. I understand you don’t want anything to happen to the princess, but where am I supposed to go? Our getaway driver got away in our car, so if I go out now I’ll be exposed with no protection. Besides, in this house you’re just like the rest of us mortals. You need help.”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt the lecture,” Alan whispered from one stair down, “but can we continue on?”

  “We’ll pause this conversation and resume play later,” Libby said, tearing her eyes away from Jaden’s distressed face, hoping that nothing would happen to any of them. She took the last stair, signaled Alan to check the next room while she checked this one. Jaden was trying to push his way in front of her, but she elbowed past him. “I have the gun!” she whined at him. “You can go first if you want the gun. Do you want it?”

  He shrunk away from it and reluctantly got behind her. She opened the door, pushed it aside, and sidestepped into the room, stretching her head out, her arms extended with her pistol. It was a bedroom. She walked around, her heart racing, but she was focused. She opened the closet door from the side, followed her gun to look in, flipped the switch.

  Clothes, shoes, boxes. No one inside. She turned off the light and resumed her hallway patrol. The next door was open, but she saw no one. Alan had cleared the room and proceeded on. The third door was locked, but before she kicked it down, or had Jaden kick it down, she assessed its position. The next door wasn’t far off and had more space between it. This was the bathroom. She summoned Jaden closer.

  “Check under the door,” she said, pointing to the floor.

  It would be a good trap. They’d bang in the door, announce where they were, no one inside, then they’d be trapped in a small room with no exit.

  Jaden got on his elbows, ducked his head under, then stood up, shaking his head. Just as she thought. Libby tossed her head, got the hair out of her face and walked to the final door of the second floor.

  This was the door. Her heart raced. She took a deep breath.

  But Jaden waved at her. He was breathing fast as he reached for the gun, took it from her hands, and grabbed it in his own. She wouldn’t argue with him. This was his fight, and if he wanted to kill Madrid, she wouldn’t stop him.

  “Stay here!” he mouthed, and he opened the door. It was an office, a converted former bedroom. She watched as Jaden went inside, his hands shaking the gun. This was probably the first time that he’d held a loaded weapon with the intent to kill, she thought. She hoped he remembered to clear the closet.

  She heard a soft footstep behind her, and she expected to see Alan when she turned around.

  Joseph Madrid put a gun to her forehead.

  Libby couldn’t have screamed if she wanted to. Madrid’s face was full of victory. He grabbed onto her, spun her around, and they walked backwards down the hall, the warm barrel to her temple.

  She was paralyzed with fear; she couldn’t feel her heart. The only proof she had that she was alive was that her eyes were still working. Every moment was otherworldly. Her soul was trapped in a dead body.

  They backed into the empty bedroom, the one Alan was supposed to have cleared. As they got further into the room, Libby saw Alan face down on the floor, in a pool of blood. He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

  Pounding footsteps in the hall. Jaden rushed through the door.

  “Drop the gun,” Madrid said.

  It broke her heart that he didn’t hesitate. He dropped it to the floor, shaking his head, breathing hard and fast.

  “I’m sorry,” Jaden said, he looked at her, then to Madrid. “Don’t hurt her.”

  “You promised you wouldn’t disobey me again.”

  Libby’s senses started coming back. She gained feeling in her legs and stood up. The gun to her head had a sound suppressor—it’s why they hadn’t heard Alan being shot and killed. Madrid’s forearm was around her neck and chest, her fingers on his arm, pulling down. She could not surrender to the horror that was happening to her, to Jaden. Both of their lives were at risk.

  “I know,” Jaden said, shaking his head. “I thought I could outsmart you, I was wrong.”

  Madrid laughed, then he growled. “Don’t try to manipulate me.”

  This wasn’t going to happen. Madrid would not win. Jaden surrendered because Libby was foolish, had gotten caught, and had let Jaden have the gun to win his battle. Now they were here.

  Her mental clarity astounded her. She compartmentalized her terror and locked it away. She had to be in control of herself if they were going to come out of this alive.

  “I keep my promises,” Madrid said. “You didn’t believe me before. What part should I take off her first?”

  “Run for it,” Libby said. Madrid covered her mouth with his free hand.

  “Yes,” Madrid said, and from the tone of his voice she knew he was smiling. “He’s good at running. Go ahead and run. And when w
e find you next, as we will, I’ll put her pretty eyes in your limp hands.”

  Jaden took a step forward, and Madrid tightened his grip.

  “I saw you arrive. A recovery team is on its way,” Madrid said. “I didn’t think you would come after me. I underestimated you again. An old man’s mistake. But you’ll notice I have taken precautions. The mind is an amazing thing, but rules are meant to be broken,” he said.

  Libby hated that her mouth was clamped shut, she badly wanted to comment on his I’m-so-clever monologue. Madrid was high on the control he had over Jaden.

  “And when the team gets here, we’ll turn you off with the flip of a switch, and pack you back to the lab. That’s the beauty of technology.”

  He was so absorbed in the glory of himself, Madrid wasn’t paying her much attention. Jaden and Madrid had their eyes locked on each other, consumed by the power play. She had to be quick. She had to act now.

  She said a quick prayer. Then Libby threw her head back, hitting Madrid in the nose. Her elbow jammed into his ribs. He grunted but didn’t release the gun. His grip on her slackened, and she capitalized on his mistake. She ran toward the door, toward Jaden, who’s face splint into panic. He ran at her, collided into her, and they spun on the spot.

  There was no time for this. Grabbing his hand, Libby tried for the door again, pulling him with her, but Jaden didn’t move.

  She turned to face him to see what stopped him. Had Madrid triggered him?

  Jaden looked at his stomach, his hand held there. Libby didn’t know why they weren’t running, and she peered over Jaden’s shoulder to see Madrid, eyes wide, mouth open, a smoking gun at his side.

  She looked at Jaden’s stomach again, and when he pulled away his hand, blood.

  Libby grabbed Jaden around the chest as his legs gave way. He was too heavy for her, so they both fell to the floor.

  In the dull yellow light of the room, Libby saw the blood on his stomach, staining his shirt, expanding outward, increasing its orbit. His face was losing color, his eyes came in and out of focus, his breathing was labored.