I headed back inside the house and left Maze sniffing in the bushes. Maybe we won’t be here long. Maybe Dr. Andrews will locate our mom tonight and we can go home tomorrow. I wished so hard that would happen, but the cynic in me knew better. Things were probably going to get a whole lot worse before they got better.
Chapter 15 Dr. Winter’s Awakening
She could hear the ticking of what had to be a clock. The more she strained to hear something besides that tick-tock, the more deafening the silence became.
Everything hurt and her foggy brain wasn’t helping.
She remembered landing at the airport and heading toward a taxi cab outside. And that’s it. That was the last thing she could remember.
Next thing she knew, she woke lying on a clammy floor of a darkened room with her wrists and ankles tied with duct tape. She could feel the thick layer of adhesive digging into her skin, itching like crazy, and tight enough to cut off circulation.
But if that was her only pain, she would be overjoyed. Though she didn’t remember how it happened, she was very sure something was wrong with her head. She could feel her heartbeat pounding behind her eyes and she smelled the coppery, thick scent of blood around her. She had no doubt that she’d suffered a pretty serious head trauma.
Margo willed herself to breathe slowly and deeply, hoping the extra oxygen would help her think.
For twelve years, she waited for this day to come. And for twelve years, she prayed and planned and tried to prepare herself for its eventuality. But even after everything she did to try to set it up so the children would survive, nothing could prepare her for the desperation she felt for their safety now.
If the company found her, did they know where the children were too? Had they already captured them? Were they experimenting on them, again? Or did they decide to eliminate the evidence of their “metahumans?” She shook her head slowly trying to clear it and saw pain-filled stars for her efforts.
The more she thought about the children in harm’s way, the angrier she got. The angrier she became, the more clearly her mind worked.
She was far from helpless.
Growing up in a small Kansas town in a middle-class family, she knew the only way out was going to be with a lot of hard work. She couldn’t take anything from her parents, though they wanted to help her pay for school. They had enough to cope with. You see, she had a baby sister who was special.
Becca was a beautiful baby girl who came home from the hospital with mom and dad when Margo was five. By her first birthday, they started to notice Becca was different from other babies. By the time she was three, they had a definite diagnosis. She was autistic.
There are different levels of autism. Becca was high functioning. There were times when she would just astound the family with her intelligence and humor. But those times were few and far between. Most of her days were spent repeating her comfortable patterns. She loved her “hot pink” marker and carried it around everywhere. She wore shirts with no tags. She liked to play peek-a-boo and organize her letter tile squares into perfect rows of ten.
Becca was thirteen when Margo was accepted to West Point Academy. At eighteen, Margo dedicated herself to military service for the next ten years. In exchange, she received a West Point education and an active duty tour highlighted by special ops training. Then there were four years of medical school at a prestigious university squeezed in for good measure. Life was nonstop, and the time flew by in a blur.
After her military contract was fulfilled, her superiors tried to convince her that her place was with them. She disagreed. Now, she needed to fulfill her next goal. She wanted to find a cure for autism.
There was a small list of laboratories that fit her criteria so it didn’t take long for her to choose The Institute of Neurobiological Studies in Upland, California. If Margo knew then what she knew now, things would be so different. But as they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty. She loved her parents so much and missed them terribly. Their passing left a huge hole in her heart.
Memories kept flooding back to her in full color and crisp audio. Adrenaline does that to a person.
She was trying to loosen the tape around her wrists. The ties were so tight they were cutting into her skin with each movement she made. Pain was something she could control. Margo wasn’t worried about the pain. She was worried about damaging herself to where she couldn’t fight when given the chance.
How long had she been here? What day was it? What time? If the company hadn’t captured the children, then where were they? Though she trained them to fight and survive, she was aware that they would have been completely caught off-guard. An involuntary wince had her biting her lip as she continued to work on her binds.
Margo’s mind couldn’t stop racing. What if the children thought to call that number on the emergency contacts lists? And if they did, would her old friend help them? Would he even know how?
All these unknowns were maddening.
“I just need to survive so I can protect the children, God. You can take me as soon as they’re safe. I don’t want to live without them. Please help me, please.” She didn’t even realize prayers were streaming through her mind. She was so focused on loosening the binds around her wrists.
Physical excursion was making her slick with sweat. The moisture was working on the adhesive. Maybe, if I could twist like this, she thought.
A wave of despair crashed over Margo. She was angry at herself for leaving the children alone and angry she let her guard down. Margo was beating herself up with all the “what if’s.” What if I hadn’t published that paper? What if I hadn’t agreed to come to this convention?
She now knew she had fallen for one of the oldest tricks in the book. Get someone to think they won an award so they come to collect the prize, and whammo! Caught! She was feeling furious at herself for being so naïve.
And that’s when she heard footsteps coming from down the hall. Her wrists burned with numbing pain as she redoubled her efforts.
Focus, Margo, she thought angrily to herself. It doesn’t matter how I got here. I’m getting my children, and I’m getting out!
Margo steeled herself with renewed determination. I will not give up my children, she silently screamed. One more agonizing twist and her right hand ripped free of its binds. As she shook the numbness out of her bloody and aching arms, a sense of calm enveloped her. Now she was ready. One more prayer and the door to her cell opened.
Chapter 16 Honey, I’m Home
Alik, Evan and I have tasted pizza before. I mean, we didn’t live in the Stone Age back at the ranch. It’s just, we’d never tasted this kind of pizza before.
The kind that showed up at your door carried by a kid wearing a uniform and a huge sign attached to his beat up car. The kind that came in a cardboard box that when opened, steamed hot juicy mouthwateringly scrumptious smells. The kind that when you lifted a slice from the others—strands of gooey cheese remained attached to the rest of the pizza, as if resisting your advances. The kind of pizza that when you took your first bite, you knew it wasn’t going to be your last. Red sauce dancing between the chewy dough and gooey cheese covered in crispy slices of salty pepperoni.
This was heaven-in-a-box good. This was eat-till-you-hurl good. This was the stuff that made us know our civilization was at the pinnacle of advancement. So even though I say we’ve had food that came in a frozen box labeled “pizza” before, I must confess, I had never had real pizza before tonight.
After dinner, Alik, Evan and Cole headed to the basement to watch a movie. You would never have believed they just met Cole that afternoon. They were like three peas in a pod laughing and joking around with each other as though they’d been friends for years. ‘Course, knowing my brothers, they were still just delirious with joy over the meal they devoured.
As for me, I was so full that all I could do was sit on the basement stairs and play with Maze. From that spot, I heard the garage door rumble open. I stopped and listened up the stairs. High heels cl
icking on concrete, pausing, door to the house opening…then closing. I heard keys jingle and more heels clicking before a few thuds. That was probably her purse or briefcase being set down heavily. “Honey,” she called. “Hun, are you upstairs? Theo?” Michelle was home.
Maze and I scooted up the steps a little more so we could hear.
“I’m here Michelle, in the kitchen.” Dr. Andrews responded. “I’m glad you’re home. I, um…we have guests.”
“The Winter children? They’re here? What are they like?” Michelle sounded anxious.
What the heck was she talking about? She was acting like she expected us to be freaks. Suddenly, my full stomach felt like revolting.
Ugh, why did I eat so much? I thought miserably.
The doctor responded in a whispered tone, probably trying to encourage Michelle to lower her voice. “They seem completely normal to me. Of course, I didn’t examine them or anything. Their mother kept them secluded from the world on their ranch so they seem fascinated at the most ordinary things.” I heard his voice smile as he said that last part. I’m sure he was thinking about Evan and the airport faucet.
“The oldest, Meg, has an unusual pet, though. A coyote she’s raised since he was a pup. She named it ‘Maze’.”
“A coyote for a pet? Well, that’s weird. Where did she leave it?”
“Leave it?”
“Yeah, where did she leave the coyote when she left to come here?”
All I could hear was silence.
“Wait a minute. She didn’t bring it with her, did she? Theo, you didn’t let her bring a coyote to our house, did you?”
There was a loud clanking noise, like a pot being slammed down on the stove. Then, what sounded like a cabinet door banged, then another.
Well isn’t this just wonderful, I thought to myself. “I feel so welcomed, how ‘bout you?” I whispered into Maze’s ear.
“What have you told them about their mother?”
“I’ve told them everything I know…just that their mom was known to exit her plane at LAX and that to keep them safe they needed to come home with me.”
Click, click. She was walking again.
“I’m going upstairs to change.”
Click, click—thump. Then silence.
Michelle’s voice had an edge to it. I didn’t get a good vibe from her at all. She certainly didn’t come rushing downstairs to meet us, or even to say hello to her stepson, Cole. Warm and fuzzy, she wasn’t. I wondered what else she wasn’t.
Chapter 17 Sleep
The sheets sounded crisp when I pulled the covers down on the bed. I had never slept in a bed besides my own, and I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to relax enough to nod off here. I crawled under the covers and sat up looking around the room assigned to me.
Above the headboard of the bed hung a large quilt showing off an early American pattern all in pastel pinks, greens, blues and beiges. The goose-down comforter on the bed was covered by another quilt of equal detail and colors but a different pattern. There were teddy bears piled neatly on the long dresser to my right, and across from where I sat was a large window with a decorative arch above it. To my left was a walk-in closet.
This room was obviously used as storage for Michelle’s baskets, bears and quilts. I wouldn’t have been surprised at all if I opened that closet and found it stacked ceiling to floor with more of the same.
The room smelled of cinnamon and vanilla and nutmeg. For the first few minutes, I found the scent interesting and maybe even nice. But now, an hour later, it’s an overwhelmingly pungent odor. I’m sure it was a potpourri of some kind, but it was incredibly strong as I lay back on the too firm pillow. What did she do, make her own scented oils in this room? It’s as though the oils saturated the bedding. Ugh.
Yeah, it was going to be tricky falling asleep here.
But I should be thankful that this family came to help me and my brothers. My mother always raised us to be thankful for what we have and not even look at what we don’t have. “We are blessed,” she would often remind us when we were acting a little bratty.
Right about now, I was trying very hard to maintain my composure by counting my blessings, because if I let myself just sit and think about all that happened to me in the past forty-eight hours, I’m sure I would burst into tears. And what good would that do anyone? The boys need to see me as strong and confident—not a whimpering baby.
I made myself lie back down and position the pillows as best as I could. I must have drifted off because the next thing I remember was waking to sound of voices yelling.
Chapter 18 Something Wicked This Way Comes
He stretched his legs, first his right, then the left. Working his way up his body, he next stretched his back by sitting up straight and twisting first right then left. Now his arms he lifted above his head and stretched his triceps then rolled his shoulders. He tipped his head up first, then let it slowly roll to the right listening to the ever present crack, crack, cracking from the stiffness, then he continued the roll around to the front, then left (more cracking). He shook his head quickly trying to wake his face. It had been a long night with very little activity to report.
Their source had given them excellent information. The doctor and the children had arrived at Kansas City International on time. They drove directly to this address. They spent the evening indoors, except for the girl who took the dog to the backyard for a while, then left him outside while she returned inside. Nothing extraordinary happened there. It looked like the family was asleep by 11pm. There has been no activity since.
Being assigned to stakeouts wasn’t his favorite activity, but it was often the precursor to what he enjoyed the most. A strangled smile cut across his scarred face. He was thinking about what he’d like to do to that little girl before he turned her over to his boss.
Oh, yeah…this was going to be fun.
Chapter 19 Meg the Meglodon
The boys were already awake. I could hear them outside. Of course, they were yelling so loudly, I’m sure the whole neighborhood could hear them. Ugh. I threw on blue jeans and a T-shirt, amazed to note that I’d barely disturbed the bedding. Despite it smelling like a potpourri shop, I must have slept like a rock.
I was about to run down the stairs but hesitated and headed right back to the bathroom. First things, first. However loud they were being, a girl’s got to brush her teeth!
Okay, so I wasn’t just a brush the teeth kinda girl, I had to floss, too. Flossing is super important, I think. It has always felt more like a massage to my gums than a chore to me. So floss first, then brush, then go tackle the two little noisemaking goof-balls outside. Nice, short to-do list.
I hopped down the stairs and flew passed Dr. Andrews heading out the back door.
“Morning, Meg. How did you sleep?” The doctor watched me run past as he sat at the kitchen table reading the newspaper.
“Fine,” I chirped just before the door shut behind me.
“What are you two doing? You’re making enough noise to wake the dead, for crying out loud!”
“Morning, Meg!” When Alik smiled, it was very hard to be upset with him. He was just such a cute kid.
“Hey there, Meglodon,” quipped Evan smartly. A meglodon was a giant shark that lived in prehistoric times, for those of you who didn’t know. Evan likes to turn my name into obnoxious words like, “Megabyte” or “Megalomaniac.” You get the idea. He obviously wanted a butt-whoopin’ this morning.
I heard a snicker behind me and turned to see Cole. He stood more than six feet tall and was casually leaning his shoulder against one of the beams supporting the upstairs patio. He was wearing blue jeans and a green rugby shirt. I hadn’t noticed last night, but wow, his eyes were strikingly handsome. His dark lashes stood in stark contrast to his light green eyes. They were the color of my favorite apples. And now, those beautiful eyes were watching me.
“What are you guys doing out here?” I asked, turning my back to Cole and focusing on the brothers.
> “We’re just sparring. Evan and I just started practicing our kata. Of course, that just got us warmed up.” Alik’s face was flush with exercise and his eyes glistened mischievously. “But it’s always more fun sparring with three.” That was all the warning he gave me before he assumed fighting position and sent his fist flying toward my face.
Mom would always tell us when you’re upset or worried, karate was a healthy escape. She taught us in the classical Japanese karate style insisting, the other forms of martial arts had their place, but for children the purest, most honorable and disciplined form was core. This was exactly what I needed—a good hour of hand-to-hand combat with my brothers.
I easily blocked Alik’s punch and delivered a double to his chest in response. Evan moved into position and the three of us maneuvered into a loose triangle watching every move the other made.
Now, it didn’t matter that we were standing on thick Kansas grass being watched by any number of people. We weren’t thinking about our missing mom, or what was going to happen to us. All that mattered now was the battle, just the way we were taught. We were grinning like dorks with the pure joy of it.
Evan’s move toward Alik was smooth and fluid. His timing was perfect, and the quick roundhouse had Alik sprawled on the grass. He landed expertly, letting his body absorb the impact and used the momentum to spring back to his feet. I spun and served Evan a side kick to the chest. Evan was usually so good at maintaining his balance, but this time he stumbled back. He corrected himself just in time to block a striking punch from Alik. We all repositioned into our triangle and moved without a signal into a choreographed fight.
Winter's Awakening: The Metahumans Emerge (Winter's Saga #1) Page 5