With periodic checks, Meg kept tabs on Williams and his soldiers—whom they had all taken to calling his “rabid dogs.” They were already at the airport, landing. Their ETA was fifteen minutes, as far as she could tell.
Everyone was ready. Well, as ready as you can be for a squadron of mindless, bloodthirsty mutant metas to come attack you in your home. Maze was right at Meg’s side as she sat on the floor by her assigned window with a pile of clips within arm’s reach. Meg absently patted her coyote’s fur and felt the canine’s muscles twitch nervously beneath her hand.
“It’s gonna be okay, buddy. We’ve been in scrapes before, haven’t we? We’ll get through this one, too.” Maze knew there was more wrong than just the guns draped in everyone’s hands. He knew Meg was hurting deep inside from her little excursion into Williams’ ninth circle of hell. He whined at her and blinked his crisp yellow eyes slowly. Meg hugged him.
Creed was positioned toward the top of a koa tree that provided thick foliage, camouflaging him perfectly. Meg knew exactly where he was, but even she couldn’t see him. He had taken the sniper rifle and its four magazine cartridges with ten rounds in each with him. Meg turned on her radio headset and whispered, “Creed?”
“I’m here.” Meg could barely hear him, he spoke so softly.
“I’m going to leave radio communication open from here on out, okay?”
“Copy, that.” He was keeping his words to a minimum, as was his training.
Meg hesitated, then added, “Thank you.”
Creed was silent for a moment. Just when Meg was about to repeat herself, thinking he hadn’t heard her, he whispered, “Don’t thank me.”
“We can argue about it later,” Meg let a smile slip into her voice. “ETA, ten minutes.”
“Direction?” he asked, letting the previous subject drop.
“Stand by,” Meg breathed and focused, and grazed the mind of Williams to get a feel for his location. “He’s coming from the southwest.”
“Southwest, copy that,” he responded. Meg heard him breathe slowly through movements as he adjusted his position in the tree based on her new information.
Waves of love and pride for her family rippled off Margo as she scanned the room full of her family. “We knew this day would come.” Her voice was steady when she spoke. Everyone turned to face her as the strength in her words commanded respect.
“It was always just a matter of time. We tried to live in peace far from Williams and his vile, inhumane ways, but he would not let us be. He has hunted, tormented and tried to kill us. He continues his crimes against humanity by using them as expendable test subject.” Margo’s eyes flashed with unrestrained fury remembering the first time she saw her three children at the Institute.
“You hearing this?” Meg whispered into her headset, wanting Creed to feel a part of her mother’s zeal.
“Every word,” he breathed.
“He will not be dissuaded from his vengeance. He will not be altered in his sick thinking. And he will not be ignored any longer. Our family and those we love will have no peace until Williams’ reign of atrocities is ended. None of us asked for this to be our war, but it’s ours now. We are united in our goal to rid the world of this cancer.” Meg felt her mother’s rage vibrate through her and was empowered by the fervor.
“These mutant-metasoldiers he’s bringing with him have been created for the sole purpose of our destruction. We will be their destroyers. We need to send him a clear message today. He needs to know we will not give in. We will not back down. And we will finish him. Everyone stay safe and stay sharp.”
She bowed her head and started an earnest prayer for the safety of all of them and for the souls of those Williams has tainted, that they may find peace. She ended her prayer asking for strength and wisdom as they went into battle. As everyone whispered, “Amen,” Meg felt the temperature of the room begin to boil with energy. Everyone felt it. They were itching to fulfill their purpose.
We are the destroyers now, Meg thought.
The minutes galloped by, and Meg could feel Williams; He was here.
“Meg, can you give us any more information? Is he driving up? Have they parked? Are there scouts? What’s he thinking?” Alik whispered from across the room.
Admittedly, she was terrified to reach out with her emotions any more deeply than a quick “glance,” so to speak. She could still taste the metallic venom of his essence in her mouth and was traumatized by those lost minutes when she was buried in his black death, but no one knew how badly Meg was emotionally wounded and thought nothing of asking her to channel Williams for their purposes.
Meg stopped breathing—feeling terrified and alone.
“Meg, I know it must be scary to you,” Creed whispered right into her ear. “Just do your best. You’ve already put us in a better tactical position than we would have been without your gift,” he reassured, risking the long communication, somehow sensing how much Meg needed to hear his words.
“Right, stand by,” Meg said softly enough to be heard in the room and over the headset. Quietly, Meg thanked Creed for saying the words that gave her courage to close her eyes and try. Meg locked her feet to the ground and put the hand that wasn’t holding a gun against the cool wall. Though terrified, she reached out and slipped toward her enemy again.
“He’s stayed back in a van and is watching on monitors. The rabid dogs have cameras attached to their helmets. He’s excited that they are nearly able to see the house.”
“Can you tune in to the soldiers? From which angle are they coming?” Evan asked.
Meg held still for a moment and shifted her energies to seek the static-filled anger of the rabid dogs.
“Oh, my goodness. These souls are metas? Their emotions are so…wait, they’re here!” In the same instant Meg knew his rabid dogs found them and had trained their grenade launchers at their windows. Meg opened her eyes and aimed into the darkness where she sensed the static-filled cluster of mutant metas.
Pop, pop!
Meg heard the fire, but she hadn’t pulled the trigger.
“Creed, are you okay?” she whispered desperately.
“Two down,” was all he said in response.
Meg concentrated on feeling out the static spots in her emotional field of vision and aligned them with the red warmth she felt indicating Creed’s emotional signature high in a koa tree. “Two more at your three o’clock. Three at your six o’clock and two at your nine o’clock. You’re surrounded, Creed,” Meg said worriedly.
“Sitting ducks,” he whispered.
Pop, pop!
“Two more down.” Meg couldn’t tell if he’d whispered the words, or if she just felt him think them, but she knew he had already killed four of the fourteen rabid dogs.
“What’s going on Meg?” her mother’s voice was edgy. The whole room was staring at her expectantly. Meg covered the mouthpiece and said, “Creed—he’s already killed four of them.”
Everyone sighed.
Meg heard him breathing slow, calm breaths; Creed was so calculating and assured. She took two breaths for every one of his, worried for him—for all of them.
“They are looking for you, Creed. The three at your six are closing and are scanning the trees.”
Pop, pop, pop, pop!
“Hiss!” Creed’s breath hissed through clenched teeth.
“You’ve been hit,” Meg said anxiously waiting for a response from him.
More gunfire.
“Creed!” She called out to him.
Quickened breathing.
Grunt.
Silence.
“Two more down,” he whispered, grunting, climbing another tree.
“Get yourself to a secure location and stay quiet for a while, let us take care of some of these assholes,” Meg reassured him softly, even as she was sure he was working to stifle the pain of being shot, as was his gift.
“Get a reading, Meg. Where are they?” Creed asked, ignoring her.
Biting her lip, so
as not to waste time arguing with him as he surely hung in another koa tree, bleeding, Meg closed her eyes and focused.
The remaining eight mutant metasoldiers were furiously returning to Williams in retreat.
“Oh, thank God,” Meg said into the mouthpiece and to the room full of her family.
“Creed, you’ve got them retreating. Get back to the house now.”
“On my way. Get to the vehicles. I’ll meet you there.” His voice sounded worried, but not in pain. He had switched off his pain.
“Let’s move,” Margo called to the house. “Meg, keep your sensors trained on the soldiers, and let us know what they’re up to.”
Meg nodded at her mother, grabbed her clips and ran to help get Farrow and Cole loaded into Paulie’s van.
Everyone was given assignments, and assuming they were given the time to complete them, they should be completely evacuated from the house inside five minutes. The bags were already loaded in the cars, so the only thing they needed to do was grab the infirmed, their guns, ammo and themselves.
Farrow stirred as they lifted the corners of the bed sheets on her gurney to move her to a stretcher for transport. Meg watched the girl’s eyelids flutter and heard her moan. If it weren’t so necessary for her to concentrate of Williams and his rabids, Meg would have taken advantage of Farrow’s partial consciousness to probe her emotions. But as it was, Meg couldn’t risk taking her emotional eyes off their enemies.
Cole looked as pale as the sheets on which he lay. His lips were taking on a purplish hue, but he was also feverish. It was the strangest combination of symptoms.
“I’m going to have my hands full getting this guy well once we’re safe,” Evan mumbled to no one in particular as he situated equipment around his two patients in the back of Paulie’s van. The boys had torn out the seats to make room for the stretchers. Evan sat on his knees as he monitored the two patients.
Meg was just helping Maze into a second vehicle when she sensed Creed. She turned and saw him, dressed in full jungle camo—painted face and arms. Everywhere was camouflaged except his dark-blue eyes, and the dark-red blood trying to pour from his thigh. He had taken off his belt and used it as a tourniquet. He could stop the pain by sheer will, but that didn’t stop the blood from flowing.
“Creed, thank God. Get in,” Meg motioned to the SUV.
He shook his head.
“Creed, we have to go. Get in the truck!” Meg willed him to listen to reason and held out her hand for him to take it.
“Meg, you and your family are not in the clear yet,” he said solemnly.
By then, the rest of the family was clamoring into the vehicles. Dr. Andrews was driving the SUV with Margo and Maze. Paulie was driving the van with Alik, Evan, Farrow and Cole.
“We can talk about this later, Creed,” Meg pleaded while walking closer to him. A cold shiver of fear slipped up her spine as she felt what he was feeling.
“I have to take this chance, Meg. I have to stay and try to finish this. You have to escape. It’s our destiny.”
“Bullshit!” Meg yelled. “You are not going to sacrifice yourself, Creed Young. You are too important. We need you. I need you!” By now, Meg was standing close enough to feel the heat radiating off his tense body.
A flicker of emotion slipped across his face. Just a moment of doubt at hearing her words was all he afforded them.
“I’m going back out there to find the van. I can pick off the rest of his rabids but in the end, he’ll just make more. I need to kill Williams. Cut off the head of the snake.” His voice sounded disconnected.
“We will do that, but not today. Today we have to get to safety.”
He reached around and held her tightly, briefly leaning his heavy head down to the hollow of her neck, allowing himself the safety of her scent. Without giving an emotional warning, he lifted her and gently tossed her into the SUV with Maze and slammed the door closed. He slapped the metal twice as a signal to Dr. Andrews to leave.
“No!” Meg screamed.
“Meg, we have to go. This is his choice. You have to respect him enough to allow him this,” Theo was craned around in his seat, eyes pleading for Meg to let go.
The car backed up fast, peeling back down paved driveway before swinging around to face forward. The other van was right on their tail, but Meg paid attention to none of that. All she saw was the face of her avenging angel staring back at her. A bump in the road ripped him from her sight momentarily. By the time the vehicle righted itself, Creed had vanished.
Chapter 7 No Going Back
Meg sobbed, salty, angry tears.
“Mom, we have to turn around! We have to go back and get him!”
“We can’t, Meg,” Theo’s voice was dark, ominous.
“Why?” she begged.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” Theo glanced at Margo, then back at Meg through the rear-view mirror. His eyes were filled with sadness and something else. Meg felt a surge of anger come from him. So uncharacteristic was that emotion from the kindhearted doctor, she turned her full attention to him, even through the tears.
“Since it was his lab, Paulie had to agree. There was just no going back. So we rigged the lab. The boys and I rigged the lab to blow up by remote access. I don’t want that serum falling into any more hands. It’s pure evil, and I hate what it has done to our lives.” Meg felt a shudder of fury hit Theo as real as any she had felt from Williams.
“We can’t go back because there will be nothing to go back to,” he added, tightening his jaw.
“Who has the remote?” Margo asked coolly. She was just as livid as Meg was at being left in the dark.
Andrews gripped the steering wheel more tightly. His knuckles whitened at her question.
“Creed,” Meg said, no affect to her voice. “Creed has the remote. You knew all along he was planning to sacrifice himself, to stay behind, and you didn’t stop him!” She was so angry she couldn’t see straight.
“I didn’t know he was planning a suicide mission. He could have triggered the remote from this car. He chose to stay. That was never part of my plan.” Theo looked to Margo for understanding.
“Theo, how could you do this without talking with me? Don’t you respect me more than that?” Margo was equally angry and hurt, but she kept talking. “Creed is Alik’s brother—his blood brother. He chose to lead a good life and was therefore just as much a son to me as Ali or Evan. Turn the car around.”
“Margo, no. I’m not letting you put yourself in harm’s way again! Damn it! We are getting out of here!”
Meg wrapped her aching mind around a quote she read years ago: “Do not do an immoral thing for moral reasons.”
Pop! Pop! Pop!
“Oh, God, no!” Meg cried, spinning around in her seat to confirm what she already suspected.
Paulie sped up in his van and motioned frantically behind him.
“Oh, no!” Theo groaned, glancing in the rear-view mirror.
“What?” Margo was craning her neck around to see behind them.
That’s when they heard the first shot ricochet off the thick metal shell of the vehicle.
Meg was already getting her gun out, slamming the safety off and rolling down a window, cursing herself for having dropped her focus on the rabid dogs.
Three motorcycles roared behind them, and they were packing.
Meg didn’t even have any more time to think about what was happening to Creed. She just slipped into survival mode.
“Be careful, Meg,” Mom called even as she hung out of her window, aiming the micro uzi.
Meg slipped her hand out of the window, lined up her target, and exhaled as she pulled the trigger, aiming for the gas tank. His bike exploded and his body flew. She was so angry at the injustice of everything; she didn’t even let herself feel for him.
Pop, pop, pop, pop!
Margo’s aim was thrown off as they hit one of the airport’s many asphalt speed bumps.
Meg slowed her breathing, aimed and b
lew out this one’s back tire. Body number two flew through the air.
Two down, one to go.
The last rabid dog was playing differently than the other two. Meg focused her emotional energy and tried to figure out what made this one different. She found the same black static, but this was had a different dimension to him. This one was clever. Unlike the other two who just used brute anger and brainless force to attack, Meg sensed this one was devising a plan.
He swerved away and slipped down what looked like a cargo loading driveway.
“Mom, this one’s different. He’s going to try to sneak up on us,” Meg warned.
“The plane’s right around the corner up here. Paulie’s already pulling up to it,” Theo tried to reassure.
They were a hundred yards away from Paulie as he opened his driver’s side door and began to hurry around to the back of his van. The rabid dog flew out a crevice between service vehicles, pointed his gun at Paulie and shot him in the back—right through the heart.
The brilliant, gentle doctor who took the Winters in when they were the most desperate, slammed against the back of the van, his hand still wrapped around the back door’s lever. He slumped to his knees, and collapsed to the unforgiving cement.
All Meg could hear was a deafening scream.
She covered her ears to block the sound, before realizing the anguished shriek was coming from her own throat.
Margo leaped from the SUV even before Theo stopped it completely, positioning it as a shield to protect the back of the van from further gunfire. She swung her weapon around and in the same motion, pulled the trigger. The killer’s motorcycle exploded beneath him. Tears were streaming down Margo’s face.
Winter's Wrath: Sacrifice (Winter's Saga #3) Page 4