Winter's Storm: Retribution (Winter's Saga #2)

by Karen Luellen

  “So let me get this straight,” Cole spoke up. “This is the guy who found Meg and brought her home yesterday, unconscious, but he works for that whack-job Williams who is bent on killing pretty much everyone in this room just so he can have their blood,” he was so horrified at Creed’s presence in the lab, his outburst left him breathless. He forced a gasp before he continued his angry tirade, “And now we’re welcoming him into the house and sharing a heart-to-heart talk about good versus evil over a cup of coffee?” Cole’s voice teetered on frantic. “And no one else sees this as a bad idea?” Cole blurted looking around the room at the faces of the people he cared for so deeply.

  “If he wanted to do us harm, he would have started with Meg,” Evan responded rationally.

  “Well, if you haven’t noticed, she’s not doing so great,” Cole quipped.

  Margo walked to the stranger and watched his eyes as she responded to Cole. “There was no tactical advantage for him to expose himself as he has, Cole. He gave up his anonymity and blown his own cover. He’s completely aware of how outnumbered he is with all of us and especially outmatched between Alik and Evan. He had no reason to do any of this, yet he did. He’s trusted us enough to offer his vulnerability. We will trust him enough to listen,” Margo’s voice was steady and assured. Creed appreciated her ability to quickly piece together the gravity of the situation and act in a calm, rational manner. He liked her instantly.

  She looked deep into his strangely familiar eyes and asked simply, “What is your name?”

  “Creed, ma’am.” He stood at attention the moment Margo spoke to him. “My name is Creed Young,” he responded to her questioning as a soldier would a commanding officer.

  “Well, Mr. Young, it looks as though we have a lot to talk about,” Margo smiled graciously. “Please wait for us back in the living room. Okay?”

  “Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” Creed nearly saluted. He turned and walked out the lab’s double doors with Alik and Evan on his heels. They removed their surgical scrubs and masks and continued walking toward the living room.

  Margo turned to the others who were left standing still and stunned in the room. “I don’t know if we can trust him, but I’m going to have to go with my gut feeling this time. Meg needs help, desperately. This meta soldier could be an unexpected answer to our prayers.”

  “Her stats are definitely getting scarier by the hour. Nothing we’ve tried has helped or even stabilized her. We need to think outside the box, and that kid is definitely outside the box,” Theo said with worried tone.

  “You know, he’s been following us for a while now,” Margo said aloud what she’d been thinking since the moment she saw Creed’s eyes.

  “How do you know?” Theo asked.

  “How about I let him tell you,” Margo began taking off her scrubs. “Are you okay staying here to keep watch over Meg, Paulie?”

  “As much as I’m anxious to know what’s going on, I’m sure I’ll get the abridged version later. Meg can’t be left unattended. You go on, and I’ll be right here,” he said affectionately looking over at his patient like a grandfather would his own granddaughter.

  “Thanks, Paulie. Please call us if there’s a change in her condition,” Margo said pulling her cell phone out of her pocket and checking the battery.

  “Will do,” the old scientist said and returned to his microscope and note taking.

  Cole fell into step behind Theo and Margo as they exited the lab, still believing in his heart that Creed was beyond dangerous and not to be trusted. This was his family and he was going to do whatever it took to protect them any way he could.

  He scowled to himself as he realized even with all his protective bravado, he was just a normal human and the meta soldier could squish him as easily as squeezing the creamy, jelly-like guts out of a cockroach. He crammed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and let his hair fall into his eyes as he watched his feet walk. If he were in a cartoon, he thought to himself, he would have a huge sign hanging around his neck that read, “Useless Wimp” and a cone-shaped “Dunce” hat on his head.

  26 Creed’s Confessions

  “I appreciate your willingness to talk, Creed. I can only imagine the conflict you must feel to have taken this step,” Margo began. She was praying for the right words to say to this young man so she could determine his motives and possibly even sway him to becoming an ally.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Creed, for the first time in his life, felt very unsure. Here was this tiny framed woman, a woman who he was moments away from killing with his own huge hands five months before, talking to him about his feelings. This was way too much.

  “Are you hungry?” Margo asked with a smile.

  “Hungry, ma’am?”

  “Yes, Creed. You do eat, don’t you?” she stood and waited for her guest to do the same.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Creed said with a half smile.

  “Well, I’m starved. We’ve been keeping watch over Meg all night and haven’t had time to stop and eat,” Margo kept talking even as she led the bunch of men into the kitchen. “I know we have some sandwich meat and baby carrots with ranch dip,” she said rummaging through the open fridge. “Everyone wash up and let’s just start ‘piecing’ as my mother used to say.”

  Creed walked to the sink to wash his hands as he’d been told. “What does she mean by ‘piecing’?” he asked Evan as they dried their hands with soft paper towels.

  “Oh, that’s mom’s way of saying everyone grabs a bunch of food and comes to the table and we all kind of eat whatever we want to put on our plates; it’s all very informal,” Evan explained.

  “Oh.” Creed didn’t know what to think of all this. It was all so unfamiliar. Growing up at the Facility, chow time was informal, but not like this. Food was scooped onto the treys and the soldiers sat at long tables. Dinner conversations were usually about someone fighting someone else, who won and how. No one worried about napkins or even utensils. There were no manners. It was fend for yourself. Sharing food or pleasantries was—well it was unheard of at the Facility.

  Creed watched what the other men did and tried to follow their lead.

  “Anyone else want some left over pizza?” Dr. Andrews asked the room, appreciating the break and truly just wanting to help the atmosphere stay relaxed.

  “Sounds great,” Margo responded. “Could you grab the parmesan cheese while you’re in there?” she asked him.

  “Yep, gotta love stinky cheese,” he said to her making a face.

  “You’re not supposed to smell it; just eat it!” she teased back.

  “How can you eat it without smelling it?” he countered.

  This was the playful banter Theo and Margo had with each other. If Meg were in the room, she would be blushing with happiness at how sweet the lovebirds were with one another.

  “I like parmesan cheese, too,” Creed chimed in.

  Everyone stopped and looked over at the previously silent guest at the table.

  “Ha! See! This boy has taste!” Margo grinned and winked at Creed.

  “I suppose you like sauerkraut and sardines, too?” Theo smiled at Creed.

  “Sauerkraut is kind of a staple back in Germany,” Creed said shrugging sheepishly. “Sardines, not so much.”

  Using that as a gentle segue, Margo asked, “Tell us about life in Germany.”

  Creed swallowed a huge bite of turkey sandwich and washed it down with a gulp of apple juice before he spoke. “It’s nothing like life in the States, at least, not where I lived.”

  “Do you have family back there?” Margo asked.

  Creed’s blue eyes immediately clouded over with sadness. “I did. An older brother. He was a meta too. We both lived at the Facility.”

  “What happened to him?” Alik spoke up. Before now, he had still been trying to wrap his head around this whole surreal conversation over sandwiches with his enemy.

  “I don’t know, exactly,” Creed hesitated, but then sighed deeply and went into the entire story of the
Retribution Match against his brother, Gavil. He tried to explain how life was at the Facility. The chain of command respected only physical and mental training for combat purposes. A soldier who followed orders with precision was held up as an example for the others. Anything less than perfection was deemed a liability in combat and therefore expendable. Friendships and alliances between metas were highly discouraged.

  Alik spoke up, “Did you say your brother’s name is Gavil?”

  “Yes.”

  “That was the name of the meta who fought Meg at the Institute. The one who hurt her with the letter opener,” Alik said with certainty.

  “I can’t say I’m surprised. Williams took Gavil with him when he traveled as a sort of bodyguard.”

  “Meg described him to me as a ‘militant, testosterone-encased, Neanderthal,’ among other descriptive words,” Alik said, remembering how colorful his sister was as she told him the story of that encounter.

  “Yeah, well, that sure sounds like him.”

  “But, none of you were at the Facility by choice, right?” Margo asked, trying to redirect the conversation.

  “No, ma’am. We were all acquired by the Director somehow, but we were all too young to have chosen that life.” Creed felt exhausted and relieved at the same time to be able to talk about his experiences.

  “The Director—Is that Dr. Williams?” Evan asked.

  “Yes,” Creed answered.

  “And who was Commander Oldham? You mentioned him before,” Theo asked between bites of pizza.

  “His name is Rudolph Oldham, but he insists on being called ‘Commander.’ He’s one mean son of a gun,” he added.

  “They all sound mean. How did you survive all those years?” Margo asked, sounding more and more like a mother.

  “I kept my head down, tried not to make myself stand out at all besides my combat abilities. For the most part, I was left alone, except for my brother. Nothing I did ever made Gavil like me,” Creed sounded like a little kid for a brief moment. Realizing it himself, he cleared his throat and said, “Well, I need to tell you what I know about Williams. Then you can decide what you want to do about Meg,” he began.

  “Williams has amassed this army of metas, but rumor has it he wasn’t gathering us for himself. There were outside parties interested in buying us,” Creed explained.

  “I always assumed he wanted to make metas for himself; that he was bent on world domination or something and needed the metas to do his bidding so he could make it happen,” Alik confessed.

  “Yeah, well, that’s what a lot of people thought. But it turns out, Williams has a whole other motive behind his methods,” Creed’s voice dropped before he continued as though worried someone would overhear.

  “Rumor is he was married once, long ago and had a child with that woman; a daughter. The girl was born with a disability of some kind. Williams’ research had everything to do with trying to cure his child.” The room hung on Creed’s every word.

  “Well, what happened to the child?” Margo asked.

  “Like I said, this is all rumors. But the word was that the girl had a bad reaction to a treatment serum Williams tried on her. I mean really bad. They say she was kinda normal before he tampered with her, but afterward…,” Creed let his voice trail off. “Well, supposedly she turned into a vegetable.”

  “Oh, no.” Margo was starting to put some pieces of the puzzle together based on what she knew and heard of Kenneth Williams herself. Things were beginning to make some sense.

  “Yeah, but that’s not the worse part. The story goes his wife was so distraught about what Williams had done to their only child, she intentionally overdosed. Apparently, she left a diary filled with entries blaming Williams for everything.” Creed stopped talking and took a sip of his drink.

  “That’s messed up,” Cole said. He hadn’t joined them at the table to eat. Instead, he remained leaning at the counter, away from the meta. He still didn’t like the guy, but he had to admit, that was one heck of a story he just spun.

  “Whatever happened to the girl?” Theo asked.

  Creed shrugged and said, “That’s where the rumors get really sketchy. Some say he kept her locked in a part of the Facility where no one goes but him. Some say he continued experimenting on her looking for a cure until she died of it all and now her spirit haunts him. Some say he extracted her DNA and has tried to perfect her cloning, making her a meta,” Creed shrugged again. “I really don’t know what to believe about all that. But I do believe he was married and had a child,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Why do you say that?” Theo asked.

  “When he called me to his office a few days after the Retribution Match, I saw family pictures on his desk. It was definitely him, though much younger and a pretty, dark-eyed lady standing beside him. In her arms was a little girl, maybe one or two-years-old,” Creed looked exhausted when he finished speaking. And it occurred to Margo this was probably one of the longest conversations this young man had ever been allowed to have. She thought to herself how insightful he was for someone who wasn’t allowed to have insight before now. He was only allowed to follow orders, not problem solve on his own.

  “So he’s been searching for a way to make right his personal wrongs all these years?” Evan asked.

  Creed nodded, “That’s the way the rumors go, anyway.”

  “Why sell the meta soldiers once he’s made them?” Cole asked, redirecting the conversation.

  “I think I can answer that one,” Margo said. “Williams was a wealthy man with friends in scary high places, but after all these years, the more experimenting he needed to do, the more costly, the more he needed outside funding. Does that sound right to you, Creed?” Margo asked.

  “Makes sense,” he said with a shrug.

  “So who’s buying the metas?” Alik asked.

  “Now that, I don’t know. Once a section is deployed, they never come back.”

  “How many metas have been deployed?” Alik asked.

  Creed shrugged again, “I’d just be guessing. Something like four infantries. Each infantry consisted of a chief and eight soldiers. So, around fifty, that I know of.”

  “Fifty highly trained metas?” Theo whistled. “As trained as you, Creed?”

  “Yes, sir. I suppose so.”

  “That is one formidable army,” Theo sat thinking.

  “Yes, sir. Assuming they’re all on the same team.”

  “Oh, wow. That’s right. What if Williams was selling to more than one group?” Theo realized.

  “This could get very messy, very fast,” Alik realized.

  “You know what I don’t understand,” Creed began. “Well, he knows each of you three has at least one area in your meta abilities where you are even more advanced. He told me that much. But why does he want you back? He has to know you would not be willing to work for him. What can he get out of you?” Creed asked.

  “He wants our blood,” Alik responded.

  “He wants to recreate the formula he gave to us. Mom destroyed all the records before she rescued us from him all those years ago, but the data still exists in our DNA,” Evan explained.

  “So, he thinks the specific formula given to you created the heightened meta ability.” Creed was beginning to understand.

  “I wonder if he believes your formula to be the key to ‘fixing’ his daughter,” Margo said thoughtfully.

  From her jacket pocket the room heard a sharp ringing. She sound startled her from her thoughts.

  “Yes?” She said into the cell phone. Her brows wrinkled with worry.

  “We’ll be right there. Thanks, Paulie,” she said.

  Everyone, getting the gist of the conversation, began quickly cleaning up their plates.

  “What’s happening?” Theo asked.

  “Meg’s temperature has spiked and she’s seizing,” Margo said whisking away the tears that had already begun to fall.

  “Oh, no,” Evan moaned.

  Eyes wide with fear, Margo, The
o, Alik, Evan, Creed and Cole ran down the hallway toward the laboratory.

  27 Brainstorming Session

  Scrubbing in took a few minutes, but as soon as everyone was inside the double doors, they got to work on Meg.

  “Her fever was hovering around 100, but spiked to 104.8. The febrile seizure lasted for about forty-five seconds before stopping. Fortunately, the side rails were up on her bed so she didn’t fall to the ground. She does look to have bitten her tongue pretty badly, though,” Paulie was trying to maintain his physician’s objectivity, but he wasn’t doing a great job of it. This little girl had been through so much already. It was breaking his heart to watch her suffer any longer.

  Dr. Andrews had retrieved a bulb syringe and started trying to extract the blood pooling in Meg’s mouth from her self-inflicted bite wound. He looked on the verge of tears himself.

  “Her temperature is back to 100.3 now. I’ll have to reset her I.V. She yanked it out during the episode,” Evan said to the room. He carefully began pulling the tape off his sister’s arm and with expert movements cleaned the site with gauze and rubbing alcohol, sterilizing it. An angry purplish-blue color quickly formed where the I.V. had been pulled partially out of place. Her face was pale except for the trickle of blood that had slipped down from the corner of her mouth. This was all nearly too much for Evan. His blue mask was doing a poor job collecting the tears he cried.

  Everyone’s nerves were shot. They all loved Meg in their own way and were so scared for her. She was always so spunky and energetic; she could get a room full of people moving faster than anyone. She was bossy and controlling with the strength of spirit to back it all up. Watching her lie on that white-sheeted gurney small, frail and broken was pushing everyone to the brink of hopelessness.

  “Let’s brainstorm,” Margo said to everyone. “What do we know?”

  “Good idea, Margo. We need to run this like we would any patient’s diagnosis,” Theo brightened a little at the idea of doing something productive.

  “Right, I’ll scribe,” Paulie said walking to the whiteboard in the corner of the room and grabbing a dry erase marker.