Variant Evasion: Trilogy (Variant Trilogy Book 2)

by J. Q. Baldwin

  Tentative at first, Lolly played at punching the bag.

  “You won’t hurt it,” I said over my shoulder as I grabbed two glasses of water from the kitchen, allowing her to let out her contained rage in peace.

  In the kitchen I used my telekinesis to slide the flowers closer to the wall. I’d done it almost without thinking. I praised myself but bobbed my head around a cabinet to make sure Lolly hadn’t seen.

  Nope. She was too busy beating the crap out of her brother’s associate.

  “This is great,” Lolly huffed as I brought her some water. “I’ll have to get me one of these,” she right hooked the bag before kneeing it like a natural.

  She beat on that bag while I watched the holo-screen pour dribble into my head. I became evermore hiked up in my fear. Carne might be close again. No, I had to prove to myself: I’d seen him leave the building with Keota and Ella.

  Fifteen minutes later Lolly began to expel her rage verbally.

  “Fucking men,” she said. “It doesn’t matter how cute they are it doesn’t give them the right to ‘advise’ me what to wear or where to live. I hate having to go to the family business gatherings. All those snotty bitches sneering but sucking up to me, telling me how lucky I am to have Zeb Forsythe devoted to me. Who wants that kind of devotion? It’s not devotion anyways, it’s obsession.”

  “Not me,” I agreed.

  “You know, I left home thinking I could be more like someone I knew, sort of. She was quiet, but no one would have mistaken asking her to wear something different or advise her how to act or belittle the friends she kept,” Lolly’s rage was almost exhausted. “I admired her and you know what?” She turned to me, tapped a hand on her hip waiting for me to reply.

  “What?”

  “She despised me. I could feel her disgust when she looked at me. She told me once ‘I should appreciate what I had because I was an unworthy ingrate and a spoilt child’,” Lolly’s head fell. “I cried for hours that day. Like a slobby little baby. Tot’s ugly cried.”

  “I left home for similar reasons,” I said slowly. Surprised I was committing myself to opening up.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I have a friend at home who is everything I wanted to be: independent and had the amazing ability to strip flesh off men who underestimated her,” I looked across to Lolly. “I’ve been protected all my life so I wanted a real life - one where I actually got to experience things without hiding it. I wanted him to realise I was entitled to my own life.

  “He won’t change though and I was thick to suppose my leaving would change him. So,” I took a deep breath, “I will do it all on my own from now on and I won’t even bother trying to change anyone but myself.”

  “Girl power!” Lolly punched the air lightening the mood.

  I threw the cushion at her.

  We both laughed.

  I caught a reflection in the glass of Lolly’s eyes.

  I’d been too distracted, too trusting. Spartan had drummed his warning in. Betrayal stabbed me almost as hard as the sedative banged into the side of my neck. My hand was slow as I found the puncture wound.

  Lolly appeared sick, but that could have been my centre of gravity throwing her disloyal snigger upside down.

  I snapped my fist out. She dodged so quickly I knew I only had seconds before I was unconscious.

  “Why?” I’d never heard my voice so small and sad.

  Her cheeks rosy, she ran out of breath just like she’d been when she conveniently ran into me after I’d been to the hospital. I’d been so disoriented with the onset of Telekinesis to put much thought into her machinations - Lolly had machinations.

  Coffee. She’d seen me try it that first time. Had I scrunched my face in noticeable distaste. Had it been an effort to discover if I’d caught her out when she offered me a cup with milk and sugar while Jobe visited?

  Was any of Lolly real?

  I listed to the side, found shoes beside my dangling arm I didn’t recognise. They were nice. Boat shoes. I didn’t know anyone with boat shoes. Did I?

  No, I’d fight the sedative. My body worked most sedatives out quickly. I just had to burn it through faster.

  Lolly pulled my fat, numb cheeks back to her. My body felt like it was sliding from the lounge. Her mouth found my ear and I wanted to claw her pretty face from me.

  “It was the only way I knew how, please Delilah, remember - it was the only way I knew how. He betrayed Gordi too.”

  I imagined only the way I’d peel her skin from those plump, lying lips. My body slid again. Then fell. Thunderous footsteps surrounded me. My hearing faded in and out. My cheeks drooped toward my eyes. Was I upside down?

  “Here, help, you idiot. She’s heavy!”

  “Yllandra, please take yourself out to your driver. Milligan expects you soon.” Three of Lolly fought and shouldered around in a hold I knew she’d not escape. Three became one as she was foisted over a shoulder and out a door.

  “You’ve gone too far Zeb! I’ll tell Gordian everything!” she shrieked hysterically down the hallways piercing my failing senses.

  The poison rioted inside me but I sensed it weakening. My hearing muffled, then broke the surface again but my firewalls were failing.

  The men around me, hidden in tactical gear, black visors and bulked up in weapon proof suits, leaked anxiety.

  Worry gnawed at some. Why isn’t she down yet?

  Hit her again! Hit her again! Fear made Boat Shoes vicious.

  Up righted, I thumped to a knee and readied. Twelve combatants. The first caught an upper-cut, before I fisted his dress up vest with two hands, rolled backwards and threw him into the men at my back. Three more barrelled over, but that only bought enough time for me to grind the balls of my feet into the floor and slip out my two short swords from my back.

  My chocolate hair was a mess and my puncture wound leaked. I circled on the spot and gave my adversaries a cognizant stare that more than worried them.

  Was that half the battle? Couldn’t be. It was like diving onto concrete as they ran at me. I slashed dodged, kneed, backhanded,with my tightened fist around my weapon.

  More came as the front line fell. I cut the throat of a person I’d never recall a face of in my dreams and used another behind me as leverage to back-flip over.

  I ran for the door. I’d never kill them all before they took me. Their confidence was catching. So was everything else they felt. Whatever was in that shot had smashed my empathy. Had it bottled the telekinesis?

  I hit the release on my door. I was out!

  But I stumbled on the back of my heels as I was dragged back in by hate and a handful of hair.

  I spewed a telekinetic wave that acted more like discordant opposing sound waves than a wave of clout. Everything suspended weirdly for moments as the fury and fear saturated the room.

  Another shot pricked deep into my dense skin. I spun enough to see it fired from my bedroom door by another unknown soldier. No, not quite solider. Mercenary.

  Who knew me well enough to vie for my capture? Who’d be ignorant enough of Carne, Spartan or Onyxeal in general to risk war.

  “This is an act of war,” I enlightened the nearest merc hiding behind a flashing visor.

  “Yeah? Where’s your army Darlin?”

  They didn’t know me. Not personally. Variant, that’s all they saw. The prejudice was a little too potent to make much sense. My senses dulled, faded. Their every want, every desire, whether hateful, violent and pitying breached. Where was the real me? I’d lost it again!

  I toppled.

  But I would remember the name Yllandra, or was it Gordi?

  Only my eyeballs moved now. My spine was cut. I was sure of it.

  The cameras Delilah.

  Carne.

  Even my thoughts were broken, convoluted. I found my closest camera and begged my brain to let me move. Just for this. If only this movement for the rest of my life. I mimed the words – I’m sorry.

  Epilogue

 
Delilah

  I was worried that my lack of trip to Carne’s room tonight would be noted. I hoped that Carne wouldn’t come to investigate. I wasn’t worried enough for it to stop me. Carne didn’t scare me and I knew he would keep my secrets.

  I knew I relived the memory in a dream.

  Carne trotted off to his bedroom after our bedtime story and I listened for a good hour to the noises within the house before quietly gearing up into my skins, hooded sweater and fitted traction slippers. I kept the lights off in the closet while I dressed since I could see quite well in the dark but the soft spectrum of colours from my night-light still filtered through the bedroom.

  My heartbeat accelerated at the small creaks of the French door opening onto the wrap around terrace. I didn’t worry about climbing down; my experience in scaling walls had improved greatly since I began training. Vines were non-existent against the building to inhibit exactly what I intended to do, but I was confident. Dodging cameras and laser trips would be a challenge but I’d been scouting them from my balcony and through the gardens for more than a week, even before I’d decided to sneak out.

  I pulled my hood up, took a few controlled breaths and then began my adventure into the night.

  Every squeak had me ducking and weaving. Every rustle had me coming to a stop, my pulse pounding in my ears. I hugged each wall, bush and tree but only spotted one visible guard and two hidden. None of them saw me. I was below their normal range of sight, despite their vigilance. My lessons in stealth and evasions well exploited.

  Nine oh five, I checked my arm, hiding the glow with my cupped hand. Guard changes happened at 11.30 pm that night. The shifts alternated, I learnt. The schedule never the same for long.

  I reached the perimeter of the obstacle course and as I gazed upon the moonlit track it beckoned me on. I answered the call and entered the area, still aware of my surroundings.

  I set my timer after a quick warm up. My personal best four weeks ago was two minutes, thirteen seconds. Carne’s was one minute fifty-eight seconds. My goal: one minute fifty-seven seconds.

  After a thorough scan of the perimeter I set the two-second count down on my arm. One ultra-sonic beep, then the next and I was off.

  The darkness had little effect on my ability but after five runs I was only down to two minutes four seconds. I had reached the top of the platform before the “flying fox” on my sixth circuit when suddenly all the flood lights around the perimeter sprung to life, lighting the field up like daylight. I dropped to my belly on the platform and scanned the area. Noises and conversation came from the back left entrance – the barracks entrance.

  I knew I’d have some consequences to face if caught, which was the reason for my sneaking out instead of simply asking.

  I could see no viable exit to keep me undetected.

  Seventy-three soldiers inundated the field - three teams and their team leaders, plus ten others. The ten were not in uniform and I assumed they were recruits. If I doubted I could escape the seventy soldiers then I seriously doubted getting by the three Team Leaders. I was stuck where I was and the ten were lining up to tackle the obstacle course.

  A starting gun shot off, so did the eight men and two women. I had approximately three point five minutes before they came upon me. I had a decision to make.

  I allowed them four obstacles, hoping that most of everyone else’s attention would be riveted on the recruits as I tried my escape.

  I hadn’t counted on the squeal of the flying fox. Was it really that loud when the sun was out?

  The rapid coordinated swoosh of every soldier’s head snapped to my direction.

  “Hey!” Someone yelled.

  “Halt right there!”

  Oh no! I jumped half way from the flying fox. I wanted to turn to see if the recruits were close but I didn’t. I landed in a run even though I’d I rolled hard along the ground. I’d be a small target. If I could just reach the manor’s perimeter exit I was home free.

  I skidded to a halt and almost landed on my elbows on the dewed grass as a dozen soldiers popped up in my path. My instincts geared for defence rather than escape then. Escape was the default system, hide from the world until I learned it. Watch, and until I can hide the real parts I was now sure were not normal even by Variant standards.

  I was glad for my traction slippers. I recovered awkwardly, side stepping the soldiers charging me. I had no choice but to head for the starting arena of the obstacle course as they fanned out in a coordinated half circle.

  Snipers yelled my position, alerting all the others. There were loud commands issued and guns clicked, as they were loaded. I’d never been frightened before but that was close to it. I was definitely going to get punished for this. Would they take the track from me?

  The boundary was closed off more quickly that I’d anticipated. I figured if I ran the obstacle course I might be able to confuse my opponents so never stopped as I reached the starting arena. Half way down the first sprint lane I was being chased directly. My small form not hidden in the lightened track.

  “Enemy on the obstacle course! Team One: tighten around that track! No holes, I want it tighter than a virgin! Team Two,” the voice barked, “deploy to all exits. Team Three, get your fucking arses in after that filthy fuckin’ spy!”

  Of course I could out run my opponents but I couldn’t escape them. Two circuits and I knew this but I wasn’t tiring as they were.

  Mmpff, I smacked into a new barrier.

  Deli, lets have some fun. Carne goaded, encouraging me to continue. His cheek was instantly infectious and calming.

  You followed me! I accused.

  Of course I did, Deli. You’re mine.

  Well, you’re mine, too, Carne. Don’t forget. It was the best retaliation I could come up with on short notice while being actively hunted by thirty soldiers.

  Balancing beams ahead, Deli. Half way along, drop into the mud. We’ll spring up and catch the first four when they hit them.

  Kay.

  We did just that. It took fifteen seconds for four ahead of the others to reach the beams. Two on each they balanced. It was quicker than running through mud. Strange thoughts inserted and it clouded my concentration.

  I followed Carne’s silent instruction not to actually harm the soldiers, just incapacitate them by snap kicking at their ankles. Surprised, pained cries sounded in the night. I grit my teeth as my own ankle wrenched at my kick.

  We bounded through the mud as the shock of my twisted ankle faded and I scurried over the next obstacle - the logged wall. They wouldn’t be able to see us clinging to the other side, waiting for them to reach the top.

  We listened intently and sure enough they weren’t far behind us. Below us there was another bog hole. As the first two soldiers grabbed the top log, preparing to swing up and sit astride before jumping to cover the mud hole, we grabbed their pant legs and hauled them over instead.

  Three times in a row we did this, clinging to the other side with one hand while the other grappled with the enemy before they caught on. They couldn’t run around the wall because of the fences but the next lot were cautious. The element of surprise was gone.

  Carne laughed in my mind, sharing the full range of his emotions, exhilaration, joy, and excitement. They fed into mine and we joked about the slow soldiers but other emotions had encroached, rotting the joy, and I was almost sick in my mouth with creeping impending fear. The dried mud caking my arms cracked as my skin pebbled. Was I cold?

  We counted the soldiers out of the game – ten – and wondered why it was so quiet all of a sudden.

  “Carne! Delilah! You have thirty seconds to stand before me!” Troy barked into the field.

  Caught.

  Busted, Carne said at the same time.

  Come on, Deli. Twenty-eight seconds and counting.

  Twenty two seconds later we came to a skidded halt, Troy looked down at us with a barely concealed grin. Ava stood beside him in her fatigues, her arms crossed but emanating humour.


  The other team leaders stood stoically at attention behind Troy and Ava. They were not as happy. A woman seething across from me with dirty fatigues and a heaving breath felt like she stood at my nape. I noticed my fist open as an urge to claw her burrowed into me.

  Troy turned to the team leaders. The muddied cranky solider with wisps of hair plastered to her forehead and cheeks stood at attention beside her leader. “Two children, barely over five years old evaded all three teams in an enclosed area tonight, Spartan. You must be slipping,” Troy mocked.

  Spartan marched forward, glaring down at us. He was massive and used it to his advantage, the bald head and bold tattoo, a half moon around his collar, only added to his menace.

  “You’ve caused a bloody ruckus,” he gruffed. “Tomorrow morning at 0600 you can report to Barrack One.” He unfolded those great bulging arms, turned and walked away. I wasn’t sure why the earth didn’t tremble beneath his feet.

  I glanced around at all the soldiers; they ranged from angry at their injuries to amusement and outright laughter. A few were still on the grass soothing their ankles or nursing their heads but all began to disperse.

  The seething mass I’d been eyeing trolled toward me. Her intentions were plain to see as she discreetly checked if she was observed. Carne hopped toward the house eager for food, no fear of consequence and happy to mock fight and race the soldiers congratulating him on his skills.

  My fingers curled open again. I fisted it and let the sharpness of my nails sting. Nausea deafened me momentarily and I worried I’d caught EB2. Was I sweating?

  A shoulder barged me and I almost fell, but spun instead. A fog settled. Where was Carne? The connection thinned as if with distance. As if I’d suddenly gone adrift and floated away. Another steady blow forced me to shift into a defensive stance. My physical senses were short circuiting. They flickered between on and dull to off while a cage in my head sucked in slimy filthy things that weren’t mine.

  Was I scared? No I was seething, broiling in spite. Little cunts have no idea what they’ve ruined! She screeched. She wanted to peel my face.