I press my hand to my chest, still covered by the black canvas jacket Chris had given me last night. The dry crackle of papers being mashed under my hand makes my stomach turn. Other memories begin trying to crowd in, begging to be relived, but I shove them away viciously. The papers. Focus on the papers. I want to just leave them there, but I know they deserve my attention, even without understanding why.
My fingers slip up to the zipper pull and toy with it. Everything about the mission last night was an assault. Not on the Eroi, on me. I don’t care about the men I killed, because I’m pretty sure they deserved it. Even with Noah’s recommendations and reassurances, that guy was intent on killing my family. In my eyes, he’s no better than David. The whole exercise was David’s way of making me choose the path he would otherwise force me down. He knows how much I hate being led, so he manipulated the situation.
It didn’t occur to me until much later that David would never send one of his men off on a mission he wasn’t absolutely sure was flawless. The cave-ins were no accident. What I still don’t know is if Chris was in on it the whole time. Is he that good of an actor? He seemed genuinely pissed at the idea of me going ahead on my own. I once trusted him, but that has disappeared along with what little innocence I had left.
Knowing that I’m only delaying the inevitable, I yank down the jacket zipper and watch the crumpled, sweat-dampened papers fall to the rumbled bed sheets. For a long time, I just stare at them without really seeing what they contain. Even when I finally force myself to focus, I’m not completely sure what I’m looking at. It looks like some kind of report, like something I might write for an economics class. The charts seem like a ludicrous thing for three Eroi leaders to be pondering over until I take a closer look.
“What the hell?” I mutter to myself. I am literally left speechless, and I realize the different charts are showing numbers of Godlings in various compounds, levels of activity for each one, how many assassinations have been attributed to different groups, and even the location and size of rogue groups. I sit back against the wall in astonishment.
The Eroi aren’t just at war with the Godlings in a vague sense of the word. They’re actually preparing to launch a full scale attack! A strange sense of rage bursts deep in my chest. I can’t even understand why I feel so enraged by the idea because I hate the Godlings nearly as much as they do, but… but how dare they!
Maybe the Godlings are monsters now, but I can’t bring myself to believe they were always like that. How different could things have been if the Eroi hadn’t started hunting us down? What would my life had been like if I hadn’t been forced to spend it hiding and pretending to be something I’m not, getting tormented and beaten and harassed?
The fury inside me struggles to keep up with my thoughts. My mind fumbles over the what-ifs, turning in the opposite direction. What if the Eroi had succeeded centuries ago and rid the world of people like David? Maybe I would have never existed to have seen or experienced the difference, but if I were somehow still born, and weren’t a Godling, I would be home with Ketchup right now, enjoying an average Sunday morning. Oscar would be sane and living his life with Emily and Joshua like perfectly normal people. Lisa would be alive. My parents would be alive.
Even if wiping out the Godlings meant I never existed, this world would have been spared so much pain and death. Does that make it right, though? Do the Eroi get to decide who lives and who dies? Can they really think that Godling lives aren’t worth saving? Some part of my earlier anger begins to rebuild, but confusion refuses to let it take over.
Slowly, my thoughts solidify. There’s only one way to know for sure. Each group has their own version of the promise, but Oscar said neither of them is true. What if I could find out what the real promise said? If I knew, once and for all, which group was supposed to win, which group was actually in the right… I’d know whose side I’m supposed to be on, if anyone’s. Maybe neither of them are right.
I start to get up, but I realize there is more to the half-ruined papers than just the charts and numbers. Pulling out a few sheets filled mainly with text, I begin skimming for anything important. Most of it is analysis of the charts and how that information should impact the attack plan. Other Eroi groups are referenced, but never mentioned in any specifics. Noah had claimed that the different groups worked largely independent of each other, but either he was lying or left in the dark.
Leaning toward the assumption that Noah knows very little about the true inner workings of the group he belongs to, I assume this massive plan hasn’t been discussed with rather unimportant underlings like Noah. He’s a watcher, not a soldier. They would launch their offensive without him ever knowing. I shake my head, wondering how many Eroi and Godlings were simple blind followers, bending to the psychotic whims of their leaders. I keep reading until I see my name in the report.
The rogue Godling, Vanessa Roth, poses the greatest problem. Not only do she and her siblings show the mark, reconnaissance has shown that her skills are rapidly improving.
“Ugh, they’re watching me that closely?” I shudder, wondering just how much of my personal life they’ve been keeping tabs on. “And what the heck is the mark?”
The other Roth children pose a significant threat as well, and we cannot allow them to be inducted into David Vidor’s ranks. Each of the children must be removed before the attack is launched. Operatives are in place to make this happen on the command of the leadership at any time.
“What?” My mind starts racing, wondering how they managed such a thing. My first thought makes me cringe as I realize it would be a simple thing to place an Eroi operative near Oscar. It could be an orderly, a janitor, a doctor… it could be anyone.
Zander, that would be more difficult, not only because he’s so solitary, but because he doesn’t trust anyone. The only people he lets close to him are Annabelle—who I seriously doubt is working for the Eroi, or could ever bring herself to kill Zander even if by some unlikely chance she was their lackey—or one of his coaches. That thought really freaks me out, because it could totally happen. Zander wouldn’t bat an eye if his basketball coach called him into his office, offered him a bottle of water or some other innocuous-looking thing. The Eroi wouldn’t be so stupid as to try and fight us. They would be quiet about it, sneaky and slippery like they have shown themselves to be.
And me? I feel sick to my stomach as I realize the truth. Maybe it won’t be Noah that makes the attempt, but there are plenty of other family members capable of taking me out of the equation. They haven’t just been watching us, they’ve been preparing to eliminate the threat we pose since they second they found us.
Reaching for my phone, I’m mildly surprised to see that my hands aren’t shaking. They’re almost eerily steady. Like last night. That same terrifying feeling of emptiness is creeping back in as I dial and wait.
“Van, are you okay?” Ketchup says in a rush.
“I’m fine.”
He pauses at the weird tenor of my voice. “Uh, you sound anything but fine. What’s going on?”
“I’m running out of time, and I think I’m going to need you to come pick me up.”
“Uh, hold up,” Ketchup says. “I’ll come get you, you know that, but I think you need to back up the scary train for a minute. You’re freaking me out. What are you running out of time for?”
“To live.”
“Wait, what?” he demands. “Van, what the hell are you talking about? What happened with David last night? Has he threatened you?”
“No,” I say, sounding strangely wooden again. “David was pleased with me last night. It’s the Eroi.”
Ketchup sighs in frustration. “What about the Eroi? Could you please just explain from the beginning? I have no freakin’ clue what you’re talking about.”
“I found their plans. They’re going to war, but they have to get rid of us, first. I don’t think it will be Noah, but… maybe.”
“What?” He’s one the verge of shouting now, but the an
xiety in his voice simply washes over me, unable to reach me. “Look, Van, I’m coming. Don’t do anything until I get there, okay? I’m coming to get you.”
“The windows were dark again. I don’t know…”
Ketchup cuts me off. “I know exactly where you are. If I can make sure David isn’t tracking your phone, I can sure as hell do the opposite. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
The rational part of me that is still in lucid contact with the everyday world feels vaguely concerned at the idea of him speeding his way to rescue me. That part of me is fading rapidly. “Okay.”
“Van, please be careful,” he begs. “I love you, and I can’t lose you, okay? Just sit tight.”
“David knows the truth.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Ketchup argues. “Just wait for me, okay?”
“I’m running out of time, William.” It’s the last thing I say before hanging up.
The phone feels heavy in my hand, and I almost let it slip free, but that inkling of humanity I’m still clinging to reminds me that I might need it. I stuff it in my back pocket and start gathering up the Eroi documents. Once they’re in my hands, I’m not sure what to do with them. The stack is too big to fit in my pocket, so my hands methodically zip them back up inside my jacket and abandon thinking about them. David crowds into my mind instead, stealing every ounce of focus.
I have no clue where David’s office might be, but I stalk the corridors of the compound relentlessly. Those who see me step to the side. That little piece of me not taken over by emptiness wonders at their reactions. Does everyone already know what I did last night? Is it just my status as David’s pet that makes them leery? My wondering is distant, though, not nearly as important as finding David’s office.
The farther I walk, the less people I encounter. The empty hallways seem appropriate, and I keep going. It’s been several minutes since I’ve seen anyone when a hand suddenly grabs my shoulder. Reacting on instinct, my hand is on her wrist and I spin, pinning her in a painful and awkward position. Breaking her arm would be child’s play, but I hold off long enough to let her speak.
“I’m sorry, it’s just, this is, I mean…” She babbles for a few more seconds before finally managing to get her point across. “This area is restricted. You shouldn’t be here.”
“I was told to wait in David’s office.” The lie rolls off my lips stiffly, but she buys it.
Wide-eyed, she tries to take a step back, but my grip on her only produces more pain for the effort. “I’m sorry. He didn’t tell me.”
“Who are you?”
“David’s assistant. He said he was leaving for a meeting.”
“He ran into me and gave me instructions to wait for him in his office.”
“But, his meeting…” the girl says in confusion.
I take a step closer to her, part of me relishing the way her eyes double in size. “Do you really think David cares about making me wait?” She shakes her head quickly. “I was told to wait, and I will, no matter how long his meeting lasts.”
“I… of course.” Gasping in relief, she stumbles when I flick her hand away from me. She points to a pair of huge hardwood doors. “That’s his office. You can wait inside.”
I don’t say thank you. I don’t say anything. Turning on my heel, I march across the marble floors and push into David’s office like I have every right to be there. The tiniest hint of fear attempts to creep up my spine, but it is too weak to break through the fog of emptiness. My fingers flick the lock closed behind me, and I stare at the massive office.
Somehow, it is both stark and opulent at the same time. It is sparsely furnished, and immaculately ordered. The few furnishings that inhabit the room are of the absolutely finest quality. David has great contempt for clutter, but an incurable desire for whatever he deems to be the best. I wonder if I have fallen into his collection, or if I still have more to prove to him.
My eyes skim the room. I have no idea where to start, or even what I am looking for, but I know David must have something that will show me the truth of who I am, who the Eroi are, and which group is meant to win the war. I start with the desk, purely because it seems most logical. Several of the drawers are locked, but they are ordinary locks and easily broken.
All I find in the desk that are of any interest to me are two reports. One on me, and one of Zander. I read them dispassionately as David lists our strengths and weakness, his training methods, comments from other trainers, and his future plans for us. I feel next to nothing as I take in each line about how he intends to turn me into an elite assassin, taking out Eroi leaders left and right until his plans for domination are fulfilled. The information is hardly surprising, though surprise while overtaken by emptiness seems largely unrealistic.
At least until I pick up the report on Zander. The first hint of anger begins building deep in my core, burning away the emptiness in a way I am wholly unprepared for. The words outline David’s plans to use Zander as a human bomb, forcing him to torture others in order to feed until his hunger simply can’t contain the energy any longer. Then he will simply point him at a target and watch the carnage unfold.
I shake my head in disgust, vaguely surprised I can even feel such a thing. Zander has spent his life yearning for control, for peace and safety, yet David wants to pour hatred and pain into him until all hope of control is lost, then turn him into a weapon. Like last night, he wants to strip away what makes Zander, Zander and remake him into a tool of destruction.
Slamming the papers down onto the desk, the emptiness falls away and is replaced by the kind of fury I know all too well. For so long, I have struggled against my anger. I have fought to control it when I was picked on, beaten up, made fun of, and hated. Holding back has never been my strongest area when it comes to protecting the people I care about. The doors of the office spring open, and I look up to meet Chris’s eyes with more hatred in them than I have ever felt before.
He stumbles back a step in response to the fury and hatred he sees in my expression. For the first time since I’ve known him, he honestly looks scared of me. That thought stirs an animalistic pleasure within me. I try to hold onto it, but the emptiness is returning too quickly for me to fight it off. By the time Chris manages to take a step forward and close the doors, it has taken me over yet again.
“Van, what are you doing in here?” Chris asks. His voice is cautious, as if that would make any difference to me now.
“What does the real Promise say?”
He seems confused for a moment, but only by my topic, not by the question. I can tell by the panic fueling his anxious movements that he knows exactly what I’m talking about. Still, he tries to lie to me. “Van, you know exactly what the Promise says. It says the Gift will destroy the Eroi. It says you will destroy them.”
“The Eroi promise says the opposite,” I counter, “but you already know that, don’t you? You already know what David spouts off to young Godlings is a complete fabrication, and you go along with it. You help him. You pretend to care about people like me, but all the while, you’re just carving me up, ready to serve me to David for his own uses.”
“Van, that’s not true,” Chris argues, but takes a wary step back when I begin to round the desk. His posture is defensive, but mine is unnaturally casual.
My fingers trail along the rich, highly polished wood of David’s desk as I walk. I look up at Chris. The way he flinches has no effect on me. “Where you just pretending last night?”
“What… what do you mean?” He takes a step back, but he bumps into some kind of pedestal with a stark, black marble bust on it.
“When I volunteered to finish the mission and David agreed.” My eyes follow him as he steps around the pedestal. “Did you really care that I might end up dead? Was it just a show to keep me from realizing the whole thing had been a setup?”
Chris stops moving. “A setup? It wasn’t a setup. You were supposed observe, nothing more. Of course I was pissed when David sent you on alone.”
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“It was a setup,” I say. The cold edge to my voice seems to cut him. I begin walking toward him again, but this time he doesn’t run. My boots squeak faintly as I come to an abrupt halt in front of him. “When have you ever gone on a mission and found yourself surprised by something as seemingly random as collapsed walls of a tunnel? Walls that had been dug less than two days previous, which had undoubtedly been rechecked shortly before our arrival? Flash flooding didn’t do that.”
For a moment, Chris’s eyes narrowed. I didn’t know or care whether it was in response to my words or the idea that David had misled him. Whichever it is, his shoulders square up. “If it was a setup, I wasn’t involved. I was told to keep you close and protect you. I was furious when David allowed you to go out on your own.”
“Why?”
“Because you weren’t ready!” he shouts.
His words strike a nerve buried deep beneath the emptiness, but I only shrug. “I was successful.”
“And look what it cost you, Van!” He grabs my shoulders, though it feels like he’s touching someone other than me. “This is not you, Vanessa! You’ve totally shut down, just like I told David you would.”
“Right now,” I say as I shove his hands off me, “I can’t say I see that as a bad thing.”
“Vanessa,” Chris says slowly, “you need to go back to your room and just…”
“And just what? Sit there and stare at the wall like some kind of mindless drone? That would please David, wouldn’t it? Isn’t that what you’ve been training me to become?”
Sighing in frustration, Chris throws up his hands. “No! It’s not!”
“Then what?” I ask. I watch his body language carefully. It seems faintly ridiculous that he’s so worked up right now. “What were your dreams for me, Chris? Did you honestly see me becoming anything other than David’s pet?”
“I was training you to become more than that! To be stronger than what he would try to turn you into. Don’t you understand that?” He shakes his head, and I notice he’s sweating… a lot. “I understand how powerful you are. So does David. He wants to add you to his collection, and nothing I do is going to stop him, but I did everything I could to make you strong enough not to lose yourself in his shadow. You’re like nothing I’ve ever seen before, Van, better than anyone else I’ve ever worked with or taught. You have no clue how important you are, but I do. I won’t let you throw it all away.”
Wicked Glory Page 24