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

by Karen Luellen

  “Um, no offense Paulie, but I couldn’t read your writing when you were my professor,” Margo gently teased as she held her hand out for the marker. Paulie grinned sheepishly and passed it over.

  “Okay, we know she’s been unconscious for,” Margo paused to look up at the wall clock, “nineteen hours after collapsing during a run.”

  “Her lab work indicates an increase in white blood cells—which usually means infection,” Evan supposed.

  “Her red blood cell count was low indicating possible anemia,” Paulie added.

  “Well, the anemia could have caused the headache and fainting,” Theo thought, “A bleeding ulcer could cause the anemia and high white blood count,” he offered.

  “But we already performed a sonogram looking at all her internal organs, and there was no sign of bleeding,” Paulie added with a sigh.

  “Maybe we missed something,” said Theo.

  “We’re missing something, that’s for sure. But what?” Margo stared at the notes she had written in black ink on the board. “There was the fever and seizure too,” she continued.

  “Infection could cause the fever,” Paulie said.

  “Right, but that takes us back to the question, what is causing the infection? We started her on the antibiotics how long ago?” Margo asked.

  Evan looked at his chart. “We began a full scope antibiotic intravenously at 11:18 last night. So she’s been on them for twelve hours,” he concluded.

  “That should have been enough time for us to see improvement. Instead, she seems to be getting worse. That fever is scary,” Paulie said.

  “A regular human being experiencing high fevers for days on end will suffer brain damage,” Alik said, as though reading from a book. This was the first he said during the entire discussion. Not having the scientific background his younger brother and mother had left him feeling inadequate. But Alik’s memory was unmatched, and he was racking his brain trying to remember anything he’d ever read that could be of help to the conversation right now. So, his mind raced back to an afternoon at the ranch when he was bored enough to read an entire stack of his mom’s scientific magazines.

  “Right, Alik. I’m just hoping we can figure this out before too much time passes,” Theo said.

  “There’s another option,” Creed said softly. He was staring at Meg and thinking about how beautiful she looked, even in her current condition.

  “What was that, Creed?” Alik asked.

  This time, Creed cleared the emotion from his throat before speaking, “I said there’s another option we haven’t discussed.”

  “What option?” Cole asked skeptically.

  “A whole group of specialists are out there who may be able to help her,” he said letting the words sink into the room.

  “What kind of ‘specialists’?” Theo asked.

  “Scientists who focus solely on metahumans,” Creed said cryptically.

  “If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about, the answer is absolutely not!” Margo’s voice was raspy with emotion.

  “What’s he talking about?” Cole asked, hating again how it felt to be the only one in the room not knowing what was going on.

  “He’s talking about the doctors who work for Kenneth Williams,” Evan said evenly.

  “What the heck? You think Williams would help Meg get better? Did he grow a heart while I wasn’t looking?” Cole yelled.

  “It’s just an option I wanted to be sure everyone realized,” Creed said, carefully back-peddling. “I’m not the doctor here, so I’m not the one to decide how desperate Meg’s condition really is. You are her family,” he said almost wistfully. “Since she’s unable to make decisions for herself right now, it’s your call.”

  Except for the beeping of Meg’s monitor, the room went quiet. Creed’s words were sinking in.

  “Cole’s right, though,” Alik said. “Even if Meg’s condition were desperate, why would Williams be willing to help? What would stop him from taking Meg and dissecting her for his evil plans? Or use her as leverage to get me and Evan to turn ourselves in to him? Or cure her but alter her mental status and turn her against us? Anyway I think about it, the outcome would be bad.”

  “Like I said, Meg is unconscious. As her family, you have to make decisions for her—however tough they are. I just wanted to mention the Facility as an option. That’s all,” Creed said diplomatically.

  “I don’t know how much longer we’ll have to debate the issue. Meg’s organs are going to start shutting down because of the low levels of oxygen carrying red blood cells. Without oxygen, the organ tissues will begin to fail,” Paulie said softly.

  “What do you think about giving her a blood transfusion?” Alik asked the room.

  “Hum. Now there’s an idea. She can’t have regular blood, so that would leave Alik and Evan as the only donors,” Theo said, thoughtfully.

  “And me,” Creed said openly anxious to be of some kind of help.

  “We would have to test your blood—to be sure it would be a suitable match; but yes, theoretically, as a metahuman, you could donate, too,” Margo added cautiously.

  “The blood donations could help give us more time before her condition gets much worse,” Evan said, hesitantly optimistic. “On the other hand, nothing about her illness has been predictable, so it’s hard to say. I don’t think it could hurt,” he added with a hopeful shrug.

  “I’ll go first,” Alik said walking toward a chair, pulling up the sleeve of the sterile scrubs he wore and extending his arm.

  “Okay, let’s give it a try,” Paulie said as he shuffled through a drawer to retrieve the blood drawing supplies.

  “Creed, let me go ahead and draw a test sample from you so we can be working on that, too,” Margo said.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Creed answered. He walked over to the small doctor and pushed up his sleeve exposing taut mounds of muscle.

  Margo had to ask, “How many meta soldiers like you does Williams have at the Facility?” She began sterilizing the biggest, juiciest looking vein right in the crook of his arm.

  “A lot.”

  “How many is that?”

  “I don’t mean to sound secretive, I just—I just mean even I’m not sure of the number. If I had to guess, there are probably about a hundred meta men and women at different stages of training currently at the Facility.”

  Margo’s eyes widened. “That many?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She was trying not to let her panic show in unsteady hands as she wrapped the rubber tourniquet around his upper arm. She had to stretch it hard to reach around his huge biceps.

  “What about those who have already been sent on assignment? Do you know where they might be? Or what they are doing?”

  “I don’t know. We’re trained to work under any condition in any circumstance by ourselves or in teams. There’s no telling where meta operatives are once they leave the Facility.” Margo watched Creed’s deep blue eyes as he spoke, trying to determine his true motives.

  Unaware of the scrutiny, Creed continued. “Once soldiers leave the Facility, they don’t come back, remember?” He shrugged softly. “I doubt even the Commander has access to that information.”

  Not for the first time, or the last, Margo thought back to Kenneth Williams and remembered feeling his demented evil. She was letting the idea soak in. Metas could be anywhere. Metas could be in our human military, in politics, in positions of power—all over the world. And this meta, right under her hands, could be one of the most deadly to have been the one Williams chose to send after them.

  “Why did Williams choose you specifically to come after us?” she couldn’t help but ask.

  Creed took a deep breath before answering. “Two reasons I know of: One, after the Retribution Match, he knew what I was capable of and two, he has no idea how well-trained those three are,” Creed nodded to the other metas in the room. “If he’d known, he would have sent an entire section after them.”

  Margo asked
feeling a wave of nausea crash over her. “How do you know they’re trained?”

  Creed felt his face flush deeply. Deciding he needed to come clean he confessed, “I saw them spar, once.”

  Margo looked deeply into his eyes. “Back in Kansas, at the hospital?”

  Creed’s silence was his answer.

  “That was you, wasn’t it?” Her face was pale, but her expression was resolved.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.” His eyes dropped and watched her still steady hands working on his arm with skill and precision.

  “What made you stop? You could have finished me right then?” Margo asked the question she had been wondering about for months.

  “The pillow—the pillow had Meg’s scent on it. Something about that was like a slap across my face. It woke me up. I couldn’t kill my brother and I—Dr. Winter, I’m not a killer.” Creed’s blue eyes glistened with sincerity and pleaded with her to believe what he was saying. “No matter what Williams’ orders, I am not a monster.”

  Creed’s gripping stare unlocked as he looked back down at his arm, veins bulging. “Why didn’t you just run after the hospital—to get away from Dr. Williams?”

  “I thought about it, ma’am. I really did. But then I knew he wasn’t done with you. I figured, if I stayed the course and played along, I would have the chance again to—I don’t know, make things right; to see Meg, and help you all. If it wasn’t me, he would have sent someone else, and trust me when I say, the Facility is full of soldiers who would kill without a second thought.”

  “So you made sure you were chosen to come after us once we were found?” Margo sat knee to knee with the meta now that she’d finished taking his blood samples. Her hand was methodically rocking the corked vials back and forth keeping the blood inside from coagulating.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Margo stared at the young meta. She knew there was more to the story, but Creed’s body language was ridged now, as though he was unsure whether he had just said too much. And Margo was just as tense, unsure whether to believe him or fear him or both.

  28 Margo’s Plan

  The blood transfusion went fine, and seemed to be helping Meg’s organs to function, if only temporarily. Alik, being tall and weighing a considerable amount, could give a double-red donation, which basically meant he donated twice the amount of a regular donation. It also meant he wasn’t going to be able to donate again for six weeks.

  “Thank God. That bought us some time,” Evan said to himself after checking his sister stats that evening.

  Only Margo and Evan were in the lab with Meg. Everyone else was trying to catch up on some sleep. The combination of stress and exhaustion was making everyone feel edgy and raw.

  Creed had returned to his hotel to get his things. The grown-ups insisted he come stay in the guest house. The others were behaving as though Creed was accepted as a friend, but Margo was too smart for that. She just believed in the old saying, “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” Considering she still wasn’t sure which label fit Creed, staying at the guest house on the grounds made logical sense to her.

  Margo had been thinking about Meg’s medical options, as any mother would. She knew she couldn’t just trust Williams to do the right thing, no matter what. She had to think of a way to force him to help without giving up her children.

  “Evan, let me ask you something,” Margo said to him in hushed tones, obviously wanting to keep her conversation private. “How far into dissecting your meta blood samples have you gotten?”

  “We’ve done a lot of research on it already, mom, but what exactly are you asking?” Evan matched his mother’s hushed volume, although there was no one anywhere within ear-shot of their conversation.

  “What I want to know is: How far away are you from decoding the original serum that was given to you three as babies, from the blood?” Her eyes flashed brightly as she spoke.

  “We’ve already done that, for the most part, though you know we were working past that and delving into the how and why of the deterioration factor we discovered,” Evan said.

  “Well, back up. Do you have the data you need to recreate the serum given to you three?”

  “You want me to create the formula?” Evan’s eyes were wide with uncertainty. “Why, mom? How would that help Meg?”

  “It wouldn’t help Meg directly, but it would give us bargaining leverage with Williams,” Margo said. “We have the formula to offer in exchange for Meg’s medical assistance. See?” She looked into her youngest son’s eyes pleadingly.

  “Yes, I see,” Evan rubbed his brows with his gloved hands in worried frustration. Realizing he was still wearing his gloves, he pulled them off, one folded into the other, just the way his mother taught him to do all those years ago in her lab on the ranch. That life felt very far away now; so innocent.

  “I would need about five hours,” Evan said looking up at the wall clock and estimated the necessary samples, procedures and calculations to make the serum from scratch. “The product should be exactly what was given to us since I’m using our own blueprint to recreate it, though you have to appreciate that I wouldn’t have time to test it,” his voice slipped. “And we don’t have room for any errors.”

  “Your calculations are always right, Ev. I’ll help you,” Margo stepped closer to her son and gave him a big hug. “Meggie needs us to come up with something. And though those doctors who work for Williams are on the wrong team, Creed is right. They are the greatest scientific minds specialized in metahumans on Earth, and your sister is running out of time.”

  “I know mom. I’ll get you that serum,” Evan said before squeezing her gently once and letting her give him a mom-kiss on the cheek.

  “Have I ever told you how proud of you I am?” Margo smiled up at her little boy.

  Evan smiled back and said, “All the time, lady.”

  He was exhausted, but he would find the energy it took to keep his promise to his mother.

  29 The Spider and the Fly

  “Tell me you’ve made contact,” the Director’s voice was tight with anger.

  “I have done much more than that, sir,” Creed smiled into the phone, imagining the old man’s pleased facial expression.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The female has been given the ‘gift’ as planned, and I hand-delivered her to her family. I’ve gained their trust; I even sat at their kitchen table and ate a turkey sandwich with them! They think I’ve turned against you, just as we planned. The female meta’s condition is worsening, and they’re getting desperate,” Creed surmised.

  “Excellent. Yes, you have done well. Your family will be proud to hear how resourceful and successful you’ve become,” Dr. Williams said, dangling that carrot in front of the young meta soldier. “Have you proposed they seek help from me?” Williams asked loving the anguish that suggestion must have caused his old friend Margo Winter.

  “Yes sir, and though they summarily dismissed the option at first, I know they’re thinking about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if by morning they have a change of heart,” Creed’s voice was intentionally devoid of feeling. “By the way, they’ve invited me to stay at the guest house on their estate.”

  “My, you have been welcomed into the fold!” Williams laughed.

  “Yes, I have. Sir, the female meta, Meg—her condition does look very precarious. The ‘gift’ we gave her, it isn’t going to do lasting damage, is it?” Creed asked, aware his feelings for the girl were at direct odds with his directive and may be showing right through.

  “Lasting damage? Well, if you consider death, lasting damage, then yes. I’d say she is in very real peril,” Williams snickered into the phone.

  Alarmed at how quickly Williams could knock the air out of his lungs with just these few words, Creed blurted, “Sir, that wasn’t the agreement. You told me the illness was only for show and she could be cured quickly and easily.”

  “She can be cured quickly and easily—once you bring her he
re, Mr. Young.” Any pleasantries the doctor’s voice hinted to before were gone now. “Bring the metahumans to me and kill Margo Winter. That’s all you have to do, and everything will fall into place,” he summarized.

  Creed clenched his jaw. He hated working for this snake and was counting the seconds until he would be free of him. “Yes, sir.”

  Creed was just hoping the work Williams was requiring of him before he was given the information to find his biological family wouldn’t leave him permanently scarred and jaded.

  “Call me when the family is ready to make negotiations,” Williams said curtly and hung up.

  Creed mumbled into the disconnected phone words that made him feel better for saying, but had no bearing on his current situation. He was still at the mercy of Williams if he wanted a chance to lead a normal life.

  He sat heavily on the edge of the hotel room bed. The tacky, green, floral print on polyester bedspread stared back at him with mutual contempt. This all felt so wrong. Now that he’d stepped across that line by allowing Farrow to dose Meg with an obviously deadly unknown toxin, the reality of his actions was stinging hornets to his heart. Nothing about what Williams was telling him to do felt like it was going to be worth it.

  And what assurances did he have that Williams was going to follow through with his end of the bargain? Even if he did know his parent’s contact information, why would Williams give it to him? Or was he just going to keep stringing him along, always with one more loathsome task for Creed to complete?

  This deal was feeling more and more shaky. Maybe Williams didn’t really know anything about his biological parents and was just pulling on Creed’s heart strings to get him to jump through hoops.

  After all, Creed thought, Williams has done nothing to earn trust. I don’t know if Gavil’s alive or dead. I was promised more time to heal before being put on this assignment. I was told Dr. Winter was a thief when it’s pretty clear the woman was just trying to protect the meta children. He told me the ‘gift’ was ‘just for show’ and now Meg’s life is hanging in the balance, Creed thought furiously to himself.