“Anne G,” the sister said. “Mother Superior would like to speak with you.”
Anne Marie followed the sister down the concrete halls, stained and cracked with age. With a quick knock at the office door, the sister showed Anne Marie inside.
The Mother Superior was an older woman from America, though she’d been away for so long she’d picked up an accent. “Close the door,” she said to Anne Marie. “Anne G, take a seat. I have some news.” She waited till Anne Marie was settled and continued, “I have been in contact with the police. I’m sorry to tell you; they have identified the body of your mother.” Expecting a response, tears or some emotion, she waited again. When nothing came, the Mother Superior said, “I’ve also spoken with some people in Kenya, and we can’t seem to find any relatives.”
“I don’t have any,” Anne Marie told her. “If that’s all, may I be excused?”
“Sure,” Mother Superior said. “If you would like to talk, I’m always available.”
Anne Marie left the office and returned back to the dorm. Elizabeth was waiting for her at the door.
“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said immediately. Anne Marie furrowed her brow. “It’s never good news,” she explained. Anne Marie started for her cot, but Elizabeth stopped her. “Wait. Come with me for a second, I want you to hear something.”
Elizabeth took her out in front of the orphanage were a few of the children were playing. The building was surrounded by a high wall and a locked gate. On the other side were more children, some with family somewhere, but all came to find company. There was a boy at the center of a crowd; he was talking, and they were listening.
“I escaped, I swear it,” the boy said. “I came to tell someone; something must be done.”
“Hey,” Elizabeth called him over. “Tell my friend what you said.”
He was only too happy to have someone hear him. “I ran. I ran as fast as I could. The LRA is coming. There is a village, they will attack it tonight, but they would not listen to me. No one will. They will all be killed.”
Midnight
The night air was stiff and stale. Somewhere in the distance a fire was raging. Anne Marie could see it, but the smoke hadn't reached the orphanage. She leaned against the windowsill and watched the night. Secretly, they’d managed to remove the bars that were once their cage. With the rope they scavenged, Elizabeth tied it off. The other girls in the room all watched; coconspirators who would cover for Anne Marie if need be.
Anne Marie was twelve, but she had grown up a lot. Especially with her new found power. After that, the next step was inevitable. She couldn't sit still and watch innocent people be hurt. It's not like she thought she could save the country, but she knew she could save a few and maybe they would save a few and so on and so on.
It was a child's dream, but maybe it would take a child to do it.
Anne Marie winced as she thought of herself as a child. She checked that her boots were tied tight. She was dressed in all black with a pack strapped to her back. In the pack were food and a flashlight. As far as weapons, Anne Marie was the weapon.
She tossed the rope out the window. She made it to the ground then proceeded to work her way over the eight foot wall. The alley behind the orphanage was dirty and piled with trash. There was no light, so it was easy to get clear without being seen. Stray animals picked at the rubbish and sized her up for food. Anne Marie paid them no attention.
The village she was headed for was an hour away on foot according to the boy. The LRA would be there in two hours. She knew from experience what they would do.
The thought of boys her age having their hands cut off, or the girls used for sex, spurred her on. She moved at full speed through the streets.
There was a curfew in the city, but that meant nothing to the criminals. It did make it easier for Anne Marie to tell who was friend or foe. At this time of night, everyone was foe.
1:00 AM
Anne Marie came upon the village. It was quiet and dark except for the central fire and a few torches around the walls. She could just make out a couple of men who must have been the local watch. One had an old rifle and the others knives and clubs. They would be no match for the LRA’s machine guns.
Anne Marie circled around to the main road and approached the village casually. When one of the guards spotted her, she waved and said, “Hello.”
The man waited till he got a look at her and then said, “What are you doing here, girl?”
“I've come to warn you that soldiers are coming,” she replied.
He waved his machete at her. “Go away,” he said. “You don't belong out here. Go back to the city.”
“They will come,” Anne Marie pleaded. “They'll have machine guns and they'll burn your village to the ground.”
“If that's so, why isn’t the military here?” The man asked. “Or did they send you to protect us?” He laughed.
“Yes,” Anne Marie answered his joke. It only made him laugh harder. “Before I go, do you mind if I warm up by the fire?”
He made a sound that was a cross between annoyed and dismissive, but he waved her through.
Anne Marie lowered her head and walked into the village and to the central fire. She didn’t expect him to believe her. Still, she was embarrassed by the teasing. Either way, she planned to stay as long as it took, even if he came around to make jokes at her expense.
The fire was warm, and Anne Marie took the time to eat some of the food she’d brought. The men left her alone while she waited, but always kept an eye on her. Villagers were notoriously untrusting of strangers, and they were right to be. If they were smart, they should have kicked her out. For all they knew she was a spy for the LRA, sizing them up. It wasn't an unreasonable idea since most of the soldiers were kids.
She hated seeing drug crazed children screaming insanities, thinking that having a gun made them men. If guns made them men, what did that make Ann Marie?
Looking at her hands in the firelight, she pondered the question. If she had been born in a village like this, the people would probably think she was a demon. Maybe she was? Maybe that's the source of her powers? Even after reading all the books on Super-Humans, they all said the same thing. There was no single, direct explanation for Super-Human powers. Some people had it in their genes. Others got them through freak accidents and on occasion sometimes they were granted by higher beings. Maybe one night the jackal came to her mother and made her a bargain? She would never know.
The sound of a truck coming up the road caught her attention. The men on watch started shouting to each other as they tried to blockade the main entrance. Some of the sleeping villagers began to stir. Anne Marie’s instinct said to wake everyone, get them to safety, get them running. She knew that the LRA would only chase them down. So she would stand her ground and protect them here.
Anne Marie whispered to herself, “You can't save everybody.”
Gunfire rattled off. It was a loud enough wake up call. Instantly, the entire village was awake. The truck stopped at the entrance. There was a machine gun mounted on the back and a man at the trigger. He fired randomly into the village. On foot, more soldiers were coming up the road. They’d be at the wall in a few minutes.
Sprinting right and swinging around the side of the truck, Anne Marie knew what she had to do. The gun was the biggest threat. She flexed her hands, and her nails extended like three inch claws. These were not fingernails or talons, but something more; able to cut through steel or man with ease.
The rebel behind the machine gun didn't hear or see her coming. She put one foot on the tire and leapt up into the truck bed. Her right hand pierced his side, slipping between the ribs. He turned to face her, and Anne Marie hit him in the chest with her other hand. The claws raked and chipped the bone. The man toppled backwards off the side of the truck. The driver of the truck looked back to see what had happened. Anne Marie wasted no time punching through the glass and killing him. She swung the fifty caliber weapon to face outwards through the g
ates.
“Come, come,” she called to a villager who was running past. He stopped not quite sure to make of a twelve-year-old girl with a machine gun. “Come shoot this thing,” she said to him. “Now, before they get here.”
The idea seemed right to him, so he climbed into the truck. Anne Marie left him, hoping fear wouldn’t get the better of the man. She headed back to the center of the village looking for any soldiers that might have slipped by the guards. Even still, with her enhanced night vision it was too dark to see much of anything, so she stopped and listened for shooting. The soldiers loved to fire at everything.
There. Towards the back.
She sprinted full speed into the danger. This side of the village was nearly pitch black. A burst of gunfire lit up a hut. As the man came out holding his AK-47 and laughing, Anne Marie struck. With a single swipe, she cut the gun in half, taking his hand off in the process. For several heart beats, the man had no idea what had happened. Then by the time Anne Marie had spotted another man, the first one was screaming. He called out to his friends for help.
It was the perfect opportunity for an ambush.
Two soldiers found their friend lying on the ground crying to himself. They made it too easy, staring at their friend, backs open. The villagers were rarely a danger, so the men were over confident. Anne Marie came out from the darkness severing their spinal cords in a single slash. Their deaths were instant. Then she gathered their guns and went to find some villagers who were willing to fight.
By the end of the night, a dozen LRA soldiers lay dead. The rest ran off. Five of the villagers had been killed, and two children were missing.
“You can't save them all,” Anne Marie said to herself. It was something she had to learn to live with. Otherwise, the failures would become overwhelming, and she wouldn't be able to protect anyone.
When she arrived back at the orphanage, Anne Marie scaled the wall once again. But as she approached the place where the rope hung from the window, she found the Mother Superior waiting for her. A flashlight shone brightly into her face.
“Anne G?” The Mother Superior questioned. “What…? Holy Mother.”
It was only now under the light that Anne Marie looked at herself. Her face and clothes were covered in dirt and blood.
“The LRA attacked,” Anne Marie said. “I stopped them.” She flashed her claws.
The Mother Superior began to mumble a prayer while moving to grab something. “Quickly,” she said. “We must clean you off.” And she ran to fill a bucket with water.
Twenty Days Later
Sitting in the hard wooden chair at the Holy Mother orphanage, Anne Marie stared at the floor. Old stains told stories of days long gone. She'd been called to the Mother Superiors office and then told to wait. No one had explained why. She tried not to complain. The sisters had said nothing about her nighttime activities. The least she could do was make things easier for them.
The sound of footsteps approaching made her look up. Two big men were coming down the hall. They both looked serious and strong. The black man wasn't from Africa; Anne Marie could tell by his clothes. As they passed, the other man, with white hair, looked at her, and they locked eyes. Then the two men went into the office and closed the door behind them.
“Porter and Deacon-Slater,” the white man said. “We’re here in regards to the girl, Anne Marie Godfrey.”
“Oh, yes, Anne G. You know we have a number of Annes here. There’s an Anne F, an Anne R…,” the Mother Superior was rambling. “Anne G’s parents were murdered. Terrible, terrible thing. The poor girl saw it. I can't imagine...”
“She claims to have abilities?” The white man interrupted her.
“Yes, I've seen them.”
“Them?”
“It would be easier if you saw for yourself.” A second later the office door opened, and all three of the adults came out. “This is Anne G. Anne, would you please show the gentlemen your gifts.”
Anne Marie obliged. It was a simple matter of flexing the right muscle and then the claws would snap to, like a switch. Neither of the men seemed startled or surprised.
Deacon-Slater spoke in his deep bass voice, “Told you it would be worth your time.”
Porter ignored him and said to the Mother Superior, “The One will take custody of the girl now.”
“Yes, yes,” she replied a little too eager. “The paperwork has already been filled out. I just hope you can provide the care that she needs.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Porter said.
The Mother Superior went back into her office to find the forms. When she was out of earshot, Porter said to Deacon-Slater, “She's a little too old.”
“Yeah, but she hasn't been raised at The One,” Deacon-Slater replied. “And there's the other thing.”
Porter glanced back at Anne Marie.
The Mother Superior returned and had Porter sign off on the papers. Then Porter turned to Anne Marie and said, “Let’s go.” The two men led the way out of the building, and the girl followed. “How accurate is the intel?” Porter asked.
“It's my intel,” Deacon-Slater answered. “The Board has had me out here for a couple of days now. Granted, I didn't see anything with my own eyes.”
The car they came in was parked in front of the orphanage. Porter opened the back door for Anne Marie. Then he got in and started driving. For a while, he scrutinized her in the rear view mirror.
“Anne G is it?” He asked.
“They call me Angie,” her accent was more apparent amongst the Americans. “It’s easier.”
“George here has been telling me about you,” Porter said. “He thinks you've been running around fending off soldiers single handed.”
“I used my gifts the best I could,” she answered straight-faced.
“Then you've killed men?”
“Yes.”
“A lot of them?”
“Yes,” she answered again, “only the ones who hurt people.”
“Are you angry about your parents?”
Anne Marie shifted in her seat and stared out the window.
“Angie, are you angry at the people who killed your parents?” Porter asked forcefully.
Looking at Porter through the rearview mirror, she answered, “I'm angry at everyone who would do such a thing.”
Porter looked at Deacon-Slater, who was a little too smug for his taste. “Where we're going we'll train you how to protect innocent people and stop the ones who hurt them.”
“Good,” Anne Marie said.
“How are you planning on transferring her to the States?” Deacon-Slater asked.
“That was easy,” Porter replied. “I adopted her.”
Deacon-Slater laughed, “If you think having a teenage daughter is easy, then you have another thing coming.”
2000, Nebraska
Henry Schreier was disturbed by the amount of clutter scattered around the office. Doctor Stein didn't seem to be bothered. To Henry, it was a bad sign.
“Please, take a seat,” Doctor Stein said as he picked a magazine up off the only other available place to sit. Stein sat in his worn leather chair and moved a stack of paper so he could see Henry. “I'm so glad you could come, Doctor Schreier.”
“Henry, is fine,” he replied in a German accent.
“Then please call me Victor,” Doctor Stein said then paused for a moment.
Henry shifted awkwardly.
“Uh, most people make a joke about now,” Doctor Stein explained.
“Oh,” Henry said not understanding.
“My middle name is Franklin,” Doctor Stein replied embarrassed. “Victor Franklin Stein… Victor Frankenstein… Like in the book… Anyway, the reason I invited you here was because of that paper you wrote.” He dug through the mess on his desk and pulled out a sheet. “Your ideas on mapping synaptic impulses and motor functions are... Well, right up our alley.”
“You know that it is all edge theory,” Henry informed him.
“Henry,�
� Doctor Stein changed to a more serious tone. “Do you know what this place is?”
To be honest, he wasn't exactly sure. An invitation to meet Doctor Stein, all expenses paid, had reached him in Germany a few days ago. Typically, Henry would have ignored it, but he hadn't been working on anything important. He was also a bit surprised that a high-end research company would have a location in the middle of nowhere. But he was more surprised when the car pulled up to the facility.
Reliant Dynamic Science was housed in a renovated mansion in the middle of an empty plot of land. It was all grass and sky as far as the eye could see. The house must have been over a hundred years old. The facade and architecture had been kept perfectly intact. But inside, the house was lined with power and data cables. The rooms were an amalgamation of hot labs and parlors. Doctor Stein's office was no different, with a computer terminal built into an antique bookshelf.
“From what I have seen, something top secret and advanced,” Henry answered.
“We work solely in, as you phrased it, edge science,” Doctor Stein told him.
For the first time since Henry met the disheveled little man, he was intrigued. Sitting forward he said, “You want to fund this project?”
“Yes and no,” Doctor Stein said. He clenched his jaw as he tried to work out the best way to word his explanation without giving anything away. “We have a project that could benefit from your line of thought. With the funds from that project, we are prepared to grant you money to continue your research.” He added, “At this facility of course.”
“Yes, yes,” Henry said thinking. “How much over-sight?”
“Like I said, we specialize in edge science, so we have an understanding attitude,” Doctor Stein replied.
Three Weeks Later
Henry took no time settling into the mansion. His things were packed and shipped from his home in Germany. He soon learned that the Victorian house was only the tip of the RDS iceberg. The research facility had five subterranean levels. There was a tunnel leading out to the main road that concealed the large shipments coming and going.
Absolute Power (Book 1): Origins Page 6