“He’s not asleep is he?” Elliott asks.
I shake my head. The scan of his shadow fidgets in his seat.
“This is weird,” Elliott says. “I can’t understand why he would sit in a parking lot for hours to—”
Dad jerks his head towards his right. “Shhh! Dad’s spotted something.”
“Over there.” Elliott points at a woman leaving Spectrum. “It’s Carol. Maybe she’s the Catalyst.”
“She’s a Shader.”
“Maybe Elevateds can have two abilities?”
I pause at the thought. But if there was a way to harness a second ability, someone would have broadcasted it by now. Carol steps into her car and soon leaves the parking lot. Dad follows right behind.
I tap Elliott on the shoulder. “He’s following her! Start the car!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Elliott cranks the engine and we exit the parking lot behind them.
“Don’t get too close,” I say. “I can keep track of Dad through my scanning.”
Elliott nods and slows down a bit to let Carol and Dad gain a lead.
“Keep going straight,” I say. “They haven’t changed lanes yet.”
We travel casually down the road, past a large shopping mall and restaurants. I keep scanning for Dad, but the traffic begins to clutter my vision. I lose him for a moment, and when I find him again, I see he’s turning right at the next street.
“Turn here,” I point at the next street. “Now!”
“Try to give me more warning,” Elliott says.
“Sorry,” I say, “I lost him. Should have invited Zach like last time.”
"We don't need to involve him," Elliott says. "He's had enough trouble."
“Still would be a help to have a Flier right now,” I say.
Thankfully, the rest of the trip I’m able to keep Dad within scanning range. Unlike Maddock a few months ago, Carol is a much a calmer driver and her house isn’t out in the middle of the woods. It turns out she lives only a short distance from Spectrum, on a cozy little avenue lined with well-manicured lawns and stately trees. After she pulls into her driveway, we watch as Dad parks his car across the street.
“Now what?” asks Elliott, stopping the car on the side of the road.
“He’s watching her for a reason,” I say.
It occurs to me.
“You don’t suppose he thinks she’s the next victim, do you?”
Elliott’s eyes grow wide. “How would he know?”
“I don’t know, but it just doesn’t make sense for a Shader at a boutique to be working with a criminal. And he has to have some reason for following her.”
“Rose, if what you are saying is true, then we need to get out of here.”
“No, we need to help,” I say. “I can track what’s going on. Dad can’t see through her house.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Elliott says, starting the car.
But I open the door and jump out before he has a chance to pull forward.
“Rose, stop!” Elliott calls out as I head towards Dad’s car.
I keep walking. Dad needs me, whether he’s willing to ask for my help or not. Elliott slams the door shut and runs after me.
“If you aren’t going to listen,” he says, “then I’m coming too.”
I smile and we walk the next couple of blocks together until we reach Dad’s car. I knock on the window and Dad jumps in his seat. He waves me away, but I just stand there. Finally, he rolls down the window.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I’m here to help.”
“You can help me most by getting out of here.”
“You need me. I can scan inside. If something is going to happen—”
“Nothing is going to happen.”
“Sure, and that’s why you’re stalking a fashion consultant. Even if you wanted to take that up as a hobby, she’s hardly your type, Dad.”
Dad rolls his eyes and opens the door. “I suppose you tracked me all the way here.”
“Yep.”
“So, you’re just waiting for something to happen?” Elliott asks.
“Don’t ask questions,” Dad says. “Just sit quietly. And, Rose, keep watch on the house.”
“This should be easy. After all, this isn’t the first time I’ve snooped around a house," I say. "I'm practically an expert."
Dad shoots me a disapproving glare and I concentrate my energies on the house.
Carol strolls through her living room and lies down on the couch to watch TV. I brace myself for another boring few hours. She stays there on the couch, watching TV, only leaving to go to the restroom a few times. Elliott and Dad ask me for the play-by-play and it becomes increasingly awkward to have to describe every time she scratches her face or readjusts her couch cushions. The evening continues without anything new. She talks on her phone with someone, answers the door to pick up a package from a deliveryman, and snacks on pretzels while sitting on the couch. Finally, she heads off to her bedroom.
"So far so good," Dad says.
"We can't just hang around her every day, can we?" I ask. "We don't even know when the Catalyst will strike."
"No," Dad says, "but it doesn't seem he's been wasting much time between victims."
"True," I say. I can't help but feel Dad isn't telling me everything.
A sudden movement in the shadows behind her house grabs my attention. A tall, broad man walks through her backyard.
"There's someone back there," I say. “He’s stepping slowly through her garden.”
Elliott and Dad snap to attention. "What's he doing?"
"Walking, wait, now he's nearing a window. He's—I think he's—what?"
The man reaches around and pulls something from his skin, which I realize is his shirt.
"What is he doing?" Elliott asks.
"He's undressing," I say. "At least, I think he is."
Grossed out by the behavior, I blur my scan to keep from seeing too much. He reaches around his waist and peels of his pants. Thankfully, it’s too dark to make out more than the faint outline.
"Creepy," Elliott says.
"What's he doing now?" Dad asks.
"He's just standing there."
“We should call the police,” Elliott says.
“I’m not on good terms with them. And I don’t have a good explanation as to why we’re stalking this random store clerk.”
“Tell them we are in the neighborhood, just happened to—”
The figure disappears from view, like he somehow sank right into the ground. “He’s shrinking.”
"What do you mean?" Dad asks, probably noticing my confusion.
"I don't know," I say. “I can’t see him anymore.”
He sunk completely out of sight. Vanished.
"Should we get out of the car?" Elliott asks.
"No," Dad says. "If that guy is the murderer, it's too dangerous. Stay inside."
Dad turns to open the door, but I plunge forward and slam it back shut.
"Oh that makes sense," I say. "You go out by yourself."
Dad scowls back at me. "I'll be fine."
I focus back on the house just in time to catch a large flash exploding inside.
“He’s inside!” The figure runs through the house before disappearing again. I scan the house in a desperate attempt to spot him again. The living room, bathroom and kitchen are empty, but when I reach Carol’s bedroom, I see a figure. Only this one is Carol’s lifeless body lying on the ground. "He's killed her already!"
"Just great," Dad says. "Where is he?"
"He disappeared again."
"How can he keep disappearing?" Elliott asks.
"I don't know!" I yell, annoyed at the question. A big man shouldn't be able to disappear so easily. It just didn't make any sense. Usually my scanning was so reliable.
"Try to trace him," Dad says. "Did you happen to notice anything identifying?"
“He’s big,” I say. “But I couldn’t get more than an
outline and some faint features.”
I keep scrambling, trying my hardest to locate him. It’s like I’m trying to squeeze my brain through my head as I focus my entire mental energy on the house.
"Is there some sort of way to cloak yourself?" Elliott asks.
"How would I know?" Dad asks.
"You seem to have knowledge on technology," Elliott says.
"Just GEMO, not—"
He’s back in view, running behind the house. "He's in the backyard, coming this way!"
The figure immerges from the shadows, a brick of a man with wide shoulders and a long narrow face, ending with a sharp jaw. He glances casually down the street and for a moment, I think his smoky grey eyes lock onto me.
Dad sits frozen beside me, his eyes wide in astonishment. “What the—”
Elliott pulls out his phone and snaps a picture.
“He sees us,” I say. “What’s wrong, Dad?”
“Nothing,” Dad says. “I—just—keep calm. He can’t see us.”
The man walks down the block, turns a corner, and disappears into the darkness.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
Dad starts the car. “Getting as far away from here as possible. The last thing we need is any evidence we were here.”
I nod as the car moves down the street. Maddock is already suspicious of Dad.
Elliott types something into his phone, and soon his car follows us behind.
“What are you going to do with the picture?” I ask.
“I don’t know.”
“What’s your plan?”
“I don’t—I—”
“Are you going to tell Maddock?”
“I DON’T KNOW!”
Dad takes a few deep breaths. Then he reaches out to grab my hand. “Sorry, I’m feeling overwhelmed at the moment.”
“Jex had some database he used to find people,” I say. “I mean, Jason.”
“Probably hacked the government sites,” Dad says.
“Besides, he’s dead,” Elliott says.
I roll my eyes. “I know that. I was just wondering if he shared that information with you.”
“No, I wasn’t fortunate enough to be around him during his hacking years. He took up that hobby after I got incarcerated.”
I sit back in my seat. I know Dad isn't telling me everything, but I'm not sure what he's hiding.
"I think we're being followed," Elliott says.
"What?" Dad asks.
"That brown car behind us, it’s copied our last three turns. Seems a bit of a coincidence," Elliott says.
"Fantastic," Dad says, and switches the car to manual mode. He pivots the wheel to send the car into a sudden turn.
"Who do you think it is?" I ask.
"Could be an accomplice to the Catalyst," Dad says. "Or someone working with Maddock."
"He's still behind us," Elliott says.
My stomach lurches as Dad steps on the gas and we careen forward.
"Hopefully he's a bad manual driver," Dad says.
He sends the car into a zigzag, and I clutch my seatbelt as tight as I can. Streetlights blaze by at a breakneck pace as we swerve around cars and turn down a back alley. The rough road jiggles us around and when we emerge, he lurches the car to the right, sending me flying into Elliott’s head.
"I'm not so sure you're such a great manual driver," I say, rubbing my aching head.
Elliott rubs his also. “You can say that again.”
Dad laughs. "Well, we seem to have lost him."
After a few more turns to be sure, Dad switches the car back to automatic. We keep checking behind us, but the brown car is nowhere in sight. As my pulse begins to return to normal, I try my best to sort out the crazy experience. How had the Catalyst disappeared? The calm car ride provides little distraction for the thoughts running around in my head. When we arrive home, we find another car already there.
"Maddock," Dad says.
Taking a deep breath, I exit the car. He is the last person I want to see right now. Dad opens the door and Maddock sits in the living room, sipping a cup of coffee. Mom stands beside him, looking nervous.
“Sorry,” Mom says. I—”
“It’s ok,” Dad says.
"Out for an evening stroll?" Maddock asks.
"What are you doing here?" Dad asks.
"I think," Maddock says, and sets down his coffee before staring back at us with cold eyes, "the better question is what were you doing driving away from a murder scene?"
"Murder?"
"Very good, you almost look shocked." Maddock grins, then turns to Mom. "Tell me, dear, was he involved with theater back in high school?"
Dad clenches his fist, and I hold him back.
"You were tracking us," I say.
"No," Maddock says. "I was tracking him. The Catalyst."
Dad’s voice grows intense. "I'm not the Catalyst!"
"Of course not, which is why you just so happened to be at Carol’s house for thirty minutes right before she died."
"That's crazy."
"Oh, I assure you, she's quite dead."
"But I had nothing to do with it."
Maddock scowls. "You were there, so by association—"
"You will not call me a murderer in front of my own family."
"You called yourself a murderer, not me. Do you have another explanation for being parked in front of her house?"
"I don't need to supply an explanation to your illegal spying."
Maddock stands up. "You're a registered Unsound. As far as I'm concerned, you should be locked up in the highest security ward available."
"Right next to your daughter?"
Maddock freezes. "You mention one word about her and—"
"I'm not going to," Dad says. "I don't play games. And while you were chasing me around, you happened to miss the real Catalyst."
Dad pulls out his phone and shows Maddock a picture.
Maddock stares at it with a confused expression. "Who is this?"
"He entered the house at the time of the murder."
"How?" Maddock asks.
"We—we don't quite know."
"How do you know he entered then?" Maddock asks.
"We saw him inside," Dad says.
"Through the windows," I say. "Just the figure, nothing definite."
I wasn't going to let him know I saw him through the doors and walls also.
"But you didn't see him break in?" Maddock asks.
We shake our heads.
"And you didn't see him actually murder Carol?" Maddock asks.
"No," we answer.
Maddock sits back down and stares back at us suspiciously. "But how did you know she was in danger?"
We both stare over at Dad, who stays quiet. I’ve been wondering the same question.
"What do you know?" Maddock asks.
"There's a pattern to the Catalyst's murders," Dad says.
"What pattern? A male archaeologist, female nurse, male construction worker, and a female fashion consultant. I don't see one."
"It wouldn't be noticeable on the surface," Dad says. "But think. Remember our research? Roger Wesson, Susan Chriswolf, Carlos Dominguez—”
"Case studies," Maddock says. Then he sits down, as if something heavy had been dropped on top of him. “The murders are the order of your case studies. But how would the Catalyst know your case studies?"
"I don't know," Dad says.
"Do you realize how incriminating that is? The murderer is following a pattern from your research."
"Now you'll understand why I was scared to share it. But now that I have a picture of the criminal—"
Maddock grimaces. "You don't have anything. You have a picture. A fuzzy, dark picture. Who knows when that picture was taken."
"It's in front of the house."
"They can do amazing things with editing these days."
"I just took it.”
"But you have no evidence to connect this man from the picture to the crime."
“That’s your job.”
Maddock grins. “Well, I figured as long as you were playing detective, you might as well do an adequate job.”
“Maddock, we’re running out of time. Carol was Case Study #4. So the next one is—”
Maddock freezes. His eyes widen in horror. “Number five.”
"I'm telling you," Dad pulls out his phone. "This man, whoever he is, will follow the list.”
Maddock takes a deep breath. "But why? What is he doing?"
Dad shrugs. “I don’t know. His messages seem to want to inspire panic. Or perhaps his heightened ability has given him a sense of superiority.”
“He's following the pattern very closely for a madman. And you have no explanation on how he got a hold of the case studies?”
“No, I haven’t,” Dad says. “But if he has access to the list, he might have access to some of the materials as well.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning your secret little Unsound Mitigation Report may not be so secret after all.”
"Why didn't you tell us this before?" Maddock asks.
"I don't trust you," Dad says. “Why should I? You don’t trust me.”
"I'll have my men investigate that photo," Maddock says. "We'll track down the Catalyst."
"Right," Dad says.
"In the meantime, don't go anywhere or do anything strange," Maddock says. "We'll be watching you too."
"I was counting on that."
Maddock gives him a curt nod, marches out, and shuts the front door with a loud slam.
“Who’s number five?” I ask.
“We need to talk,” Dad guides us over to the computer, types a few keys, and brings up a list. “These were the case studies Jason and I worked on. We wanted to try to see if there were patterns to the GEMO technology based on genetics.”
“But everyone says there aren’t,” Elliott says.
“Of course not,” Dad says. “Maddock and the GEMO Control Department don’t want anyone to think that. But it’s obvious there are, like did you know no one with green eyes has ever been an Unsound?”
Elliott winks at me. “Old wives’ tale, huh?”
I punch him in the side.
“That’s why I knew you wouldn’t have any problems,” Dad says. “I just couldn’t give you that information over the monitored conversations.”
Catalyst: (Elevated Saga Book #2) Page 8