Speaking slowly, as though to a nut job in a straightjacket, Evan elaborated, “SSRI is an abbreviation for ‘selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor.’ It’s a widely used drug that works specifically with the chemical serotonin in the brain. The serotonin is responsible for helping you feel happy, content and peaceful. In people who have experienced trauma and are suffering from PTSD, the natural serotonins in the brain get absorbed too quickly, leaving the sufferer constantly feeling raw, depressed and anxious. The SSRI slows the reabsorption of serotonins, giving the brain time to feel the benefits of contentment. Does that make sense?” He asked slowly.
She felt like punching him in the mouth instead—hard.
That’s your reaction to a lot of things lately, she reminded herself.
“I’ll make you a deal,” Meg said to the room. Everyone sat quietly, waiting to hear the terms of her agreement.
“I’ll take whatever drug you think I need to fix my—what did you call it—my ‘fractured psyche,’ if you agree we come up with a plan to rescue Creed.”
“I have an idea about how to get Creed out,” a voice said from the side of the room. All eyes turned to see who spoke. It was Farrow.
“Great, Farrow,” Margo said, tipping her head to the side just a little, like Maze does when he’s trying to figure something out.
“What’s your plan?” Alik asked as he walked to grab her hand and bring her into the middle of the loose circle of family. He encouraged her to take his seat on the sofa and plopped casually on the floor next to her.
The two had become very close friends over the last several weeks, though they never crossed any lines. Alik was always a gentleman.
Farrow was still trying to find an identity that wasn’t predefined by her superiors at the Facility. It was difficult for her as she really was highly intelligent, trained to kill, could execute the patience, stealth and mental agility required to be a sniper assassin, but she had no idea how to live outside of following direct orders. The seventeen-year-old had so much to learn.
Sometimes simple things like, deciding what toppings she wanted on her pizza would bring her quiet tears. She didn’t know what movies or books she liked. She couldn’t decide if she liked to run on the treadmill or outside. She found joy in the simplest tasks, like washing her clothes and folding them however she wanted—or not folding them at all and living out of a laundry basket. She had followed orders her whole life. Now she was free. It was a huge adjustment.
Alik was a gentle friend to the girl, and though he was two years younger than her, it didn’t seem to matter to them. Alik’s easygoing way was a tonic to Farrow’s tense, unsure responses to her new world. In the end, Ali would say or do something completely disarming and get Farrow giggling, sometimes even through her tears. Meg wasn’t surprised at all to see them so comfortable side by side now.
Farrow took a deep breath before speaking, “You have been the family I never knew I could have. I didn’t even know family like this existed. You took me in and healed me, though I was your enemy. You offered me a home and accepted me. Meg, you even used your gift to heal my sadness, though it took such a physical toll on you. I can never repay your kindness.” Her large doe eyes glistened with emotion as she looked around the room.
“My plan is simple,” Farrow said, seriously. “Send me to Germany. For all Williams knows, I died back on the Big Island. I can easily come up with a cover story about being injured.”
“Wait, Farrow, he’s never going to fall for it. How’s he going to believe you didn’t call him in all this time?” Alik asked, worry pressing the creases in his forehead.
“I’ll tell him a half-truth. I was considering going AWOL during those last couple of days on the island, even before I was wounded. I’ll tell him, I considered deserting because I was angry with him for abandoning me to die in the jungle. He never came for me. It would seem a logical reaction. It’s not far from the truth, really.” Farrow waited while the room thought.
“What will you do once you’re back inside the walls of the Facility, Farrow? How are you going to get to Creed? How would you get him out?” Evan couldn’t keep his barrage of questions to himself any longer.
“Well, I know that place inside and out. I had access to just about every part of it. I know the metas—or more accurately, they know and fear me.” She looked guilty. “I kinda had a reputation. It was my way of surviving life there. No one messed with me. It was one of the reasons Williams chose me as his personal assistant. He respects violence and intelligence, but most of all he respects power. I’m not proud of how I got that reputation, but maybe now I can use it for good,” she looked up hopefully.
“You’re not going alone,” Alik said.
“I agree. We’re going with you,” Evan nodded.
“I am so in,” Meg smiled genuinely for the first time in two months.
All of them turned to look at Margo for her reaction. She was rubbing her temples. Meg knew her mother had a stress headache starting right behind her eyes.
“Mom?” Alik gently prompted.
She didn’t respond for a moment. Slowly she stopped rubbing her temples and looked up. She looked to have aged five years in the last two hours. “I can’t think of any other way. We’re going to have to go in to get him. Farrow is our best bet at gaining access to inside the compound. I wish to God we didn’t have to do this, but I really can’t think of any other way. He won’t expect us to come into his lair; we’re going to need that element of surprise to pull this off.” She leaned forward in her seat and grabbed a pencil and notepad from the drawer in the coffee table.
Cole, who had been quietly listening during much of the conversation, spoke up now, “What if he doesn’t want to escape?”
All eyes turned to look at Cole.
He shrugged, “Listen, I’ll join any game plan you come up with—wholeheartedly. I just need us to imagine the possibility. Meg, you said he doesn’t remember any of us. He doesn’t even remember leaving the Facility. What makes us think he’s going to jump on board when we find him? Farrow, you’ve explained how brainwashed the metas are in the compound—how you were taught to think the outside world only hates and wants to destroy metahumans, right?” He looked to the girl waiting for acknowledgement.
Farrow nodded and sighed sadly.
“So if we show up and say ‘We’re here to rescue you,’ do you think he’s just going to agree and come quietly?” Cole was looking around the room.
“No, he’s not.” Farrow’s voice was crisp with assuredness.
Several people in the room cursed in frustration, including Meg
“You’re right, Cole.” She sat staring at the fluid dripping into her vein, feeling helpless.
“There’s got to be a way to get him out,” Evan blurted.
The room was quiet as they all thought.
Maze whined, sensing their frustration.
Margo finally broke the silence. “Well, we need to take things one at a time. First, we need to get you well, Meg. We wouldn’t be able to do anything tonight anyway. Let’s all think on it.” She looked around the room at her family then added, “And pray about it.”
Her mother leaned over and rubbed her boney shoulder reassuringly. Meg felt a wave of love from her and couldn’t help but look up into her soft dark eyes.
She smiled weakly thinking, thank God these people love me even when I am sick and feel ugly and dark.
Evan turned to her, and checked the I.V. bag. “Meg, I’m going to get you started on meds immediately, okay? I’ll talk it over with the parents and we’ll get a script called in for you. I also think you need a sleep aid. It will help turn off your mind and let you rest. I’m worried about your empath gift triggering itself to seek Williams again. If we get your brain to a relaxed state, then it can heal that much faster and stop recreating trauma for itself.”
She nodded quietly imagining being able to sleep with no nightmares. It had been so long ago, it felt like a different life.
/> Meg looked around the room and watched small conversations start among the family members. Cole was talking with his dad in hushed tones. Farrow was watching Alik intently as he shared something with just her and Evan and mom and walked toward the kitchen, heads bowed in deep conversation.
She looked down at Maze, who hadn’t left her side. “What do you think of all this, buddy?” Meg asked him. He licked his chops. She frowned. “Please tell me you’re just getting hungry for your normal puppy chow and not developing a taste for my blood.” He grinned at her letting his tongue roll out of his mouth and cocked his head to the side.
“Great…that’s all I need. I better not start looking like food to you.” She looked warily at her best friend.
“Hey mom? Would you fill a bowl of dog food for Maze, please?” She called to the kitchen.
Chapter 23 Choices
The evening passed without incident, but also without epiphany. Living in a family of doctors can be pretty annoying. They hovered and adjusted and monitored until Meg couldn’t stand it anymore and kicked everyone out of her room except Cole. She had already been given three I.V. bags of fluids and forced to eat a hamburger with a fruit salad and downed a handful of vitamins.
Meg felt stuffed.
Evan insisted she take the sleeping pill before he’d leave her room, so as she lay feeling full and warm in her bed, she also started to feel a little drowsy.
“I’m so glad you finally talked with the family and are letting us help you, Meg,” Cole said hesitantly, then continued when she didn’t respond right away. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve been right here.”
“No, you haven’t. You’ve been far away and you wouldn’t let me help you come back.” Cole’s eyes looked tired.
Meg sighed, knowing he was right.
“Come here,” she said and patted the space beside her on the bed.
He looked unsure for a moment then stood from the chair in which he had been parked for the last hour, walked around her bed and carefully stretched out on his back next to her. Ever the gentleman, he stayed above the covers. Feeling the effects of the sleeping pill loosen her inhibitions, she scooted closer to him, laid her head on his shoulder and curled against him as much as the thin blanket separating them would allow.
She felt a deep, contented sigh slip past her lips and draped her still-bandaged arm across his wide chest.
“Meg?”
“Hum?”
“Are you asleep?”
“Not yet.” Though her eyes were closed and her breathing had slowed, she knew exactly what she was doing. Meg loved the feel of Cole beside her. She felt safe with him.
“Tell me how you feel about finding out Creed is alive.” The words came out of Cole’s tense body in a rush.
“How I feel?” Meg asked, stalling.
“Yeah.”
“Well, he’s our friend. I’m thankful he’s alive, but I worry about how we’re going to keep him from being a pawn in Williams’ sick game,” she said, trying to sound logical.
“And?”
“And, what?”
“Meg, do you have feelings for him?”
She blinked her heavy eyes open to look at Cole. He was watching her face carefully—tension in his locked jaw. “Creed is a good guy. He has lived a hard life and fought to do the right thing despite his teachings. I admire him.”
“Do you love him?”
Knowing Cole had just laid his heart out to her, Meg treaded carefully.
She sighed deeply, feeling gently tugged under by the sleeping pill before speaking. “I don’t know. I may have, but he’s not the same anymore. It’s very likely the Creed I had feelings for is gone. His emotional signature is—unrecognizable.”
Cole held perfectly still as he listened to her. She could feel his heart beating, steady and sure under the hand she had draped across his chest. Something about the constant of it drew her in. She snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder, and her leg curled up and over him. Sleep was desperately becoming a reality.
His warm hand began to gently massage her back causing her to stir. With her dark eyes still half closed, Meg peered up into his face. Realizing what his hand was doing, his face blushed causing his green eyes to look even greener. The effect was beautiful.
Unable to resist, she reached up and held his warm cheek in her palm for a moment before moving her fingertips slowly over the curve of his lips. She felt the heat of his breath slip between her fingers as he moaned softly. His eyes had closed as though the sensation of her touch was too intense. Instinctively, Meg replaced her fingertips with her lips, offering him a tentative, quivering kiss. His beautiful mouth was even softer than she had ever imagined.
She felt the heat surge between them as his velvet tongue traced the seam between her lips, gently urging her to open for him. Her breath quickened at the feel of his warmth slipping into her mouth. The tingling in her stomach wouldn’t stop and though Meg didn’t know what it was, she did know her body was hungry for something.
A husky moan vibrated across her lips. She couldn’t get enough of his mouth. Tentatively, she slipped her tongue between his lips and felt him gently suckle her. Everything about Cole was gentle, respectful and tender—as if he was holding the most precious jewel, tasting the most decadent chocolate, kneeling before the most revered princess. This is how Cole made her feel.
That’s why she struggled with the feeling she was doing something wrong.
Confusion clouded her already groggy mind as she pull away, holding her forehead against his. His breathing was beautifully ragged as he whispered her name.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Cole confessed in the darkening room. The sun setting outside the window cast a kaleidoscope of colors all around, sweeping Meg into another bought of dizzying emotions.
Sleep tugged at her eye lids as she smiled softly. “Me, too,” she heard herself admit.
“Really?”
“I thought you were a hottie the moment I first saw you back in Kansas,” Meg giggled, shocked at her candid confession.
Cole’s laugh was deep and husky. “I remember thinking how beautiful you were when we met, but the first time I wanted to kiss you was when you had powdered sugar all over your face from scarfing those little white doughnuts. Do you remember that?”
“Didn’t I threaten you with bodily harm for teasing me?” she chuckled even as her body felt the weight of sleep pulling her under.
“Yeah, but it was worth it.” Cole’s smile faded as he leaned back to study her face. His fingers carefully stroked a curly lock of hair away from her forehead. His expression was now serious. “It was all worth it.”
Chapter 24 Exponentially Creed
“He is the perfect specimen.” Dr. Chaunders shook his head in awe as he watched Creed round the final turn of the lap. Beside him stood two of the other scientists on the team assigned to M429’s reconditioning. Dr. Sloan Mor and Dr. Fredrick Bjorn had been handpicked for their unique scientific brilliance.
Dr. Mor’s IQ was off the charts genius. She was so far beyond even the most intelligent of metas that she only associated with other scientists. Though she was only thirteen-years-old, and looked like a little girl, the moment she opened her mouth everyone would forget her still-rounded baby face, small 4’10” height and ninety-eight pound frame. Her astounding intellect demanded respect. She chose to live on the second floor of the Facility’s Research Hospital where there were some apartments originally designed for medical staff who needed to stay onsite to monitor certain aspects of their research around the clock. Though a meta herself, Dr. Mor’s unique abilities afforded her privileges away from the other female metasoldiers.
Dr. Bjorn, on the other hand, was human. He liked to think of himself as a more hands-on scientist. He worked directly with the “new recruits,” when they first arrive at the Facility, and enjoyed being the doctor to administer the life-altering Infinite II serums. Dr. Williams chose Bjorn for his
sadistic need to feel power over the powerless. He was just Williams’ kind of guy. Chaunders couldn’t stand Bjorn, but kept his mouth shut out of fear. Bjorn was his happiest when he was inflicting pain. Chaunders worked hard to avoid being the object of Bjorn’s happiness.
“Time!” Dr. Mor called, clicking the stopwatch in her hand the moment Creed flew past the finish line. Her gunmetal gray eyes widened as she looked at its display. “40.09 seconds,” she announced loud enough for Dr. Bjorn to hear. He whistled his approval as he typed the data into his tablet.
“He’s broken another record,” Chaunders smiled.
Creed jogged over to the doctors and accepted the towel handed to him by Bjorn. His face was stoic as he opened the cloth and efficiently wiped the sweat from his brow and neck.
“How do you feel?” Dr. Chaunders asked the metasoldier, noting he was only slightly winded after that four-hundred meter sprint.
“Fine, sir.” Creed’s voice had no emotion..
“Are you up for some target practice?” Dr. Bjorn asked, studying his tablet.
“Absolutely.”
“Good. Let’s go.” Chaunders said.
Without another word, Creed climbed into the Jeep obediently and waited stone-faced for the scientists to load their equipment. The shooting range wasn’t far—nothing was far. The Facility was a perfectly designed, self-maintaining, military campus on thirty-seven acres of rural German countryside wrapped neatly in a fifteen foot electric fence, monitored with cameras and heat sensors.
The Jeep, driven by Chaunders, bounced down the gravel drive toward the shooting range. “What would you prefer to start with, Mr. Young, long gun, pistol or crossbow?”
“Makes no difference to me.” Creed’s eyes scanned their surroundings as they traveled, always on guard, always taking in every movement, shadow, sound and scent around him.
Chaunders had been watching Creed very carefully over the last three weeks since he was allowed to awaken him from the chemically induced coma. While his physical abilities had wholly astonished the scientists, his complete lack of emotion caused Chaunders to worry quietly about this exponentially enhanced metahumaness. He was a shell. There was no discernible personality within Creed Young, and it scared the human in Chaunders. He glanced warily at Creed in the rear view, and absently pushed his glasses up his greasy nose.
Winter's Wrath: Sacrifice (Winter's Saga #3) Page 14