Child of Recklessness (Trials of Strength Book 2)

by Matthew R. Bell

  Jessica ducked back down to converse with me, but her face wrinkled in distaste and she stamped her feet.

  ‘I hate alleyways,’ she growled and pouted as she scrutinised her boots. ‘These are ruined, and they cost more than most people make in their lives.’

  ‘Then why the hell are you wearing them?’ I asked open mouthed.

  ‘They’re good luck, and they look nice,’ Jessica replied.

  I shook my head and she straightened before peering through her weapon again. I took the opportunity to take a look myself, but all I had were my trusty human eyes. I squinted as I edged to the corner of the bin. There were four men stationed outside Digilock’s building and more inside. I couldn’t see past the revolving doors that led into the lobby, but Jessica could.

  ‘I can’t see them all, but I’d say there are about a dozen of them inside,’ she whispered, her eyes alight with excitement. ‘This, I tell you, is going to be fun.’

  ‘Just cool your boots just now,’ I said.

  With another pinched expression she looked at her feet and said, ‘The only thing I’ll be doing with these involves a sacrifice and a fire.’

  I stared up at her incredulous.

  ‘Oh,’ Jessica said and laughed, ‘I’ll be sacrificing the boots. What? Did you think I meant a person?’

  I shrugged to show her that you never could tell when she uttered something like that.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket and I fished it out. Brian had sent only a simple word, two letters that ratcheted my heart rate and made my breath hitch.

  Go.

  I gazed up at Jess, and she nodded.

  ‘You better remember the plan,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t worry tough guy,’ Jessica smiled, ‘I know what to do. Just listen for the sirens.’

  With that, and a flip of her hair, Jessica moved. She rounded the bin, her weapon strapped across her chest along with the huge bag that contained her arsenal. Before we had reached the alley, Jessica had made a pit stop. She’d said she had a few special items stashed that could come in handy. I had no idea what they were, until her hand dove into her bag and whipped out a grenade.

  Here we go.

  Jessica pulled the pin and threw it hard at the four men and the front entrance while I waited for the inevitable deadly destruction. The men saw it too, and without a glance at the assassin still briskly heading their way, they chucked themselves to the floor. But the grenade didn’t go off, it sat there useless, and I laughed as my mind clicked to the distraction Jess had created. She’d taken those men off guard and they’d left themselves open, it was-

  The grenade exploded. It wasn’t the way I expected though, the explosion wasn’t with flames, but an ear splitting crack filled the air and the supposedly unbreakable glass that covered the first few floors of the building erupted outwards. The men threw their arms above their heads as glass fell towards them, and before they could react, Jessica hefted her sniper rifle and planted four perfect shots into their heads.

  I shivered and thanked the heavens she was on our side.

  As planned, Jessica waited outside. Her eye levelled with the rifle’s scope, and as men came into view, she picked them off one by one. Our plan was to thin their members, but Jessica couldn’t remain outside forever. The soldiers would catch on, and if they weren’t busy inside, I wouldn’t be able to slip past.

  One more man hit the ground before they realised, and the remaining men took up defensive positions inside. Jessica threw the sniper down and both of her hands shot back into her bag. She started for the entrance at a jog, while firing two of her own weapons. I couldn’t tell what they were, but the bullets never seemed to stop as they sprayed inside the building. It was effective. By the time our enemy had any chance of taking aim back, Jessica had crossed the threshold, and entered the place.

  God help them.

  I counted up from one as flashes of guns and the cries of dying men filled the night. When I reached ten, I barrelled out from the side of the bin and charged for the entrance. I picked my way through the mounds of dead men, and jumped through the jagged frame of the revolving doors. Blood stained the white floor, and I was glad to see that the receptionist wasn’t at her post, or one of the dead bodies.

  I caught sight of Jessica. She had discarded her black bag in favour of two small knife-like blades. She was like the angel of death, graceful, lightning-quick and the soldiers didn’t know what had hit them until blood stained their hands. I tore my gaze away from my assassin friend and locked it on the elevator. I rounded the reception desk, and sprinted for the doors. Two soldiers appeared in my way and I pulled the tranq from its holster and took aim. I pulled the trigger, and the gun clicked as it jammed.

  Shit!

  I tossed the useless weapon and picked up speed. The first man raised his gun but luckily I had already closed the distance between us, and moved to his blind side. He tried to adjust his aim, but I backhanded his face with my fist, and brought my knee up between his legs. He went down.

  ‘Sorry,’ I grimaced.

  A gun clicked by my head, but if the owner thought I’d freeze and surrender he’d have a surprise on his hands. I spun and knocked the gun from him before my palm connected with his nose. He staggered back, instinct forcing his hands to his teary eyes as I chased after him. I raced round him, grabbed his arm and pulled as I reached his back. I kept my grip as he spun and smacked head first into a wall.

  I was about to turn and head for the elevator again when someone barrelled into my side and we sprawled to the floor. Whoever it was landed on top, and as we wrestled, his fist came for my head. I shifted in time and his knuckles burst as they hit the ground beneath us. I freed my hand and jabbed at his throat. His breath caught and his eyes widened, but before I could buck him off, a sharp blade erupted from his mouth and he slid to the floor.

  Over me stood Jessica, a wide smile plastered to her lips along with blood and pieces of flesh.

  ‘I don’t believe it’s nap time yet tough guy,’ she laughed and pulled me to my feet.

  I looked around the room and realised wide-eyed and gaped-mouth that Jessica had taken care of nearly twenty men in around ten minutes. Her chest rose and fell heavily, but the glimmer in her eyes didn’t appear to be fading. She turned her head and looked outside. There must have been men in reserve, waiting in the unlikely event their brothers failed because a small army of men had gathered in front of the building. Jessica growled gleefully and turned.

  ‘I’ll see you when the sirens are here,’ she said and sprinted off.

  I clambered to my feet and raced to the elevator. As the doors closed and the melancholy music started, the screams of guns and men filled my ears.

  Jessica, our friendly neighbourhood angel of death, was hungry.

  The Confrontation

  The elevator pinged, and the doors slid open.

  The long corridor that never seemed to end crawled out in front of me. There were no guards lying in wait, but I wasn’t surprised. My sister was strong like I had been, she probably wasn’t too worried. I put one foot in front of the other. Questions brewed like a storm in my mind, a plethora of words I wanted answers to. That, and I had to stall for as long as possible, being in my current state of powerlessness.

  I’ll see you when the sirens are here.

  Jessica’s voice flitted through my head, and for the first time, I worried for her. I knew I shouldn’t be. Jessica was far more capable than most people. Death was her affinity. But she had become a valued member of our team, of our family. I couldn’t help but smile. You weren’t really one of us unless you had tried to kill us anyway.

  Before I knew it, I was turning. I entered the large, horseshoe-shaped room. There wasn’t much that was different. Everything sat, as much as I could remember, more or less where it had been before. The only glaring difference was the bloodstain glimmering on the floor, my bloodstain. Hazel stood not far from the chair she had been comatose in, near the window, where her eyes look
ed directly down towards the street. You could just hear the gunshots and cries of men.

  I was sure she sensed my presence, but her green eyes didn’t move.

  ‘I couldn’t believe when I saw you on the surveillance video,’ Hazel said, a smile playing on her lips. ‘It’s remarkable, the extent of our abilities. You should be dead.

  ‘I buried you myself.’

  ‘I was dead,’ I growled, letting the anger of her murder fill my entire being.

  She chuckled. I sighed and shook my head. For all we’d done to save her, all we’d sacrificed thinking that she was a victim, none of us had entertained the idea of her being in on it, much less a willing participant.

  ‘Where’s Dad?’ I asked as we lapsed into silence.

  ‘You mean Richard?’ she answered. ‘He’s a little indisposed of right now.’

  ‘You “indisposed” your leader?’ I hit back.

  Hazel looked up; her eyes glinted with the lights above. I already had my suspicions that Richard Bishop had played up his leadership role, but my sister didn’t know that.

  ‘Leader?’ she scoffed. ‘Don’t make me laugh. Instrumental I admit. The father of whatever’s made us the way we are, but leader? No, no.’

  ‘And yet,’ I said, holding her gaze, ‘he isn’t here.’

  My sister stepped away from the window and folded her arms. She stalked slowly, predatorily, back down the four steps and into the pit in the floor.

  ‘Richard betrayed everything we’ve been working for,’ Hazel replied, ‘giving you that disk, helping you out. He had to be put out to pasture.’

  ‘Who is this we?’ I pushed, but she didn’t take the bait.

  Hazel unfolded her arms and waved a finger at me.

  ‘So why did he lie about being the leader?’ I pushed, stalling.

  ‘Who knows what goes on in Richard Bishop’s head,’ Hazel spat. ‘No doubt he kept everyone in a lie so he could stay one step ahead.’

  ‘Alright then,’ I sighed, ‘how about we tackle the elephant in the room, why did you kill me?’

  ‘All part of the plan. We’re onto phase two dear brother,’ Hazel smirked. ‘I’m here, and you’re no longer needed.’

  My nerves spiked.

  ‘Why?’ I whispered.

  ‘Come on?’ she laughed. ‘You really think in the grand scheme of things you’re important? You’re one part of a massive plan, and here I thought you might have been clued in.’

  I watched as she wandered over to a table. On it were long pieces of metal, blades. She raised her hand and followed the length of them.

  ‘Greystone may have been Richard’s big experiment, with me at the side, a small event,’ Hazel said. ‘But once he returned from Greystone, he had no clue. No clue what my purpose was; he thought I was on his side. But I was brought up in the complete opposite of circumstances you were, but put through the same experimental tests. You see it’s all about data and research, even at this point, until the drug can be perfected.

  ‘My trials were a follow up to yours, a similar plan, only reversed. More data to collect, more research. Instead of the serene upbringing you received mines was much harsher. I was never lied to, I knew my mission. And then I was thrown into the warehouse.’

  ‘I get my life,’ I spat. ‘Being brought up complacent and then pushed into becoming tougher, and while I adapted, the change the drug brought did to. But yours, why start you off bad, then give you even more of it?’

  ‘Huh,’ Hazel chuckled. ‘I would have thought you’d have figured that out. I thought you would have realised Anthony Gordon’s role.’

  I blinked. Hazel’s expression darkened, her eyelids hung low and she looked as if a sea of exhaustion had taken over.

  ‘The boy was my nice element,’ she whispered. ‘I was to protect him, care for him.

  ‘I’m sorry he’s dead. But it was all part of our plan.’

  So the experiment didn’t work for her. Part of me wondered if it was the sequence of events, or what my mind in the form of my mother had said: That my ‘inherent’ want to help and save was instrumental for me to adapt; that good and bad feelings played a part in our change. It didn’t matter anyway because Hazel and her group had found a way around it.

  ‘By now you’ve read Richard’s notes,’ Hazel continued as if reading my mind, ‘where he theorises you had something others didn’t during your change?’

  I nodded.

  ‘The drug, its effects, the human species,’ Hazel mused. ‘So many levels of research we hadn’t even thought of. By now you understand what the experiment was trying to accomplish, to balance you between two states, complacent and tough. Do you know why?’

  ‘No,’ I answered. ‘Richard was a little vague on some things.’

  ‘Yes,’ Hazel chuckled, ‘he does become less articulate when he speaks of his baby. The drug is designed to make us the best we can be. But, in retrospect, we also have to be the best we can be when the changes occur. That’s exactly what you had over everyone dear brother. It’s not just a matter of finding the balance between strong and weak, courage and recklessness.

  ‘It’s about finding a balance between good and bad as well. Your goal in Greystone was pure and selfless, and was tempered with the evil you would have to commit to accomplish it: Killing people. In my case the good I was doing was in essence not for good, but for bad. At least we know that now. We never dreamed of it being so complicated, of the states of being we’d have to traverse: The physical, emotional and mental balance we’d have to strike inside.’

  ‘Because strength doesn’t always equate to being strong, and a weakness isn’t always detrimental,’ I whispered, following her thoughts as if they were an epiphany, but in reality it was just more impossibilities built onto what Richard had explained in Greystone.

  Balance in all things.

  To be the best you could possibly be.

  My mother had said much the same thing. It crossed my mind the sheer luck that was my adapting of the drug. But it wasn’t too farfetched. At the time of my change I had straddled two very different mind-sets: Strong and weak, good and bad.

  ‘This plan of yours,’ I countered, ‘there is no way in hell you can predict that much with certainty.’

  ‘Of course not,’ she snapped. ‘The both of us underwent trials. The both of us were part of Project Hercules. Whether I’d have succeeded, or you, there were always contingencies, even when the government abandoned ship. But this was never about them. They may have backed us, and sanctioned us, but we used them as much as they used us.’

  Hazel stopped her fascination with the blades and began to move. She circled, and against my jangled nerves, I did the same.

  ‘And your endgame?’ I asked. ‘What happens next?’

  A smile broke apart her lips.

  ‘You die,’ she replied, ‘and Alex comes to us.’

  ‘Never going to happen,’ I whispered.

  ‘You didn’t think we were keeping Anna and Chris alive for nothing did you?’ Hazel laughed.

  I shook my head.

  ‘What happened to you, Hazel?’ I gasped. ‘You’re my sister, my family.’

  ‘What happened?’ she spat. ‘What happened was you got the sweet life while I got the beatings! The torture! All for this! And then, you go and accomplish the very thing I was supposed to! What I’d been brought up to do!’

  I couldn’t help the empathy I felt for her. I could only imagine what hell she had went through that constituted an opposite life from mine. How strongly everything had been drummed and beaten into her. Brainwashed was too simple a word for it. If the situation had been reversed, would I be like her?

  ‘Then what happens?’ I said as we returned to our original positions and stopped. ‘What happens when they’re done with you?’

  That stumped her. For a second Hazel only stared at me, her mouth opened and closed, and her eyes narrowed. For someone in the know, she hadn’t looked that closely, and I’d pulled her up short.

/>   ‘You think they’re just going to let you live?’ I pushed at her silence.

  ‘I’m more important than you are,’ Hazel whispered, her hands balled into fists. ‘I’ve been training for this all my life. They care about me far more than you.’

  ‘And you really believe that?’ I said. ‘These people don’t sound like they give a shit. They want to kidnap a baby for Christ sake.’

  ‘All towards the goal,’ Hazel replied, and when I opened my mouth to reply, she shut me down. ‘Shut up! It’s time we got this over with.’

  Her eyes shot back down to the blades, and a cruel smile worked its way across her face. Beside the pieces of glimmering metal was a glass vial, filled with translucent liquid. Hazel noticed my unspoken question, and she picked it up.

  ‘This is what made us who we are,’ she explained, ‘the drug that made us into gods.’

  ‘We’re not gods,’ I shot back.

  She ignored me and put the vial back down, her attention back to the weapons.

  ‘I hear you like fighting with blades?’ Hazel said. ‘I do too.’

  ‘We don’t have to do this, Hazel,’ I replied, my voice almost pleading.

  She ignored me and picked up both weapons, her sight locked onto them admiringly before she returned her attention to me. I managed a quick glimpse towards the windows, but didn’t see what I wanted to. It was moving too fast.

  ‘Time to die dear brother,’ Hazel whispered, before she fired one of the blades through the air.

  I braced myself to catch it as it spiralled my way. My sister pounced with speed I’d had not too long before. My hand shot up and my fingers clasped the hilt of my weapon. Hazel was upon me though, and I’d just enough time to deflect her first slice. I staggered back, but stayed steady. She came again and I deflected. She swiped down and I blocked. The metal in our hands clanged and reverberated around the large room.