The Broken Ones (Book 3): The Broken City

by Jobe, David

  “Hurry. Get her on the table.” Julian felt the girl pulled away from him, as other kind hands pulled him backward. They pushed him through a set of swinging doors and the sounds of chaos diminished.

  When his vision cleared, he found himself standing in a long pristine hallway with a short man dressed in scrubs looking at him. “You okay?” He asked.

  “Momentarily blinded. I’m good now. Is she going to be okay?”

  The man gave him a long look before speaking. “I don’t know. The list the techs gave me is pretty severe. I’ll say this. If she would have been lifelined here, she’d be dead. She didn’t have that kind of time. If she does live, it’ll be because of you. You at least gave her a fighting chance.”

  Julian nodded. “I appreciate you being straight with me.” His phone chirped again.

  “Busy night?”

  “The Lords work is never done.”

  “Amen.” He clapped Julian on the shoulder. “Go. We’ve got it from here. I’ll get your number from the techs and let you know what happens if you want.”

  Julian nodded. “I would. Thank you.” He looked at his phone. Another location. At least this one didn’t have any indications of blood. Just as he was about to jump, he received another text from his mother, reminding him to use his shield. He gave a dry chuckle and activated his shield. He took a deep breath and willed himself to the new location.

  He stood in an empty parking lot. Empty except for a beat-up old red truck. A Confederate flag sticker displayed prominently on the back window. A man stood leaning against the passenger door, a familiar gun pointed at Julian. “Try to jump, and I’ll shoot you.” The man gave a lopsided grin as if claiming checkmate.

  Julian glanced down at his watch and could see that the light was on indicating that he still had the shield’s protection. “Thank you, mom.” He looked up and adjusted his stance, ready to move quickly if the need arose. “What do you want?”

  The man gave another slow grin that revealed discolored teeth and a missing few. “You need to come with me. I’ve someone I want you to meet.”

  “Not going to happen.” Julian crossed his arms, careful not to bump his watch.

  “You’re awful cocky for a boy on the wrong end of a pistol.” The way he said ‘boy’ held more connotations than an age gap. Julian suspected the rebel flag in the window hadn’t been the previous owner’s.

  Julian frowned. “You’re ill-informed and a few generations behind in the learning curve. Go away, little man.”

  The man growled, stepping forward, waving the gun menacingly. “The boss says you don’t have to be alive for him to do his work. I was extending you what you call a ‘courtesy.'”

  “I’m not buying it. More like you were too weak to drag me into your truck, so better to have me get in and then shoot me.”

  The man fired, and the bullet rebounded off the shield. “What the hell?”

  “Ill-informed,” Julian repeated.

  The man narrowed his eyes, his cheeks growing red. “You don’t come with me, I’ll go after your family. Bet they don’t have shields.”

  “They have me. And I can drop you from high enough that when you do hit the ground, you become paste. I suggest you run along to your trailer home.”

  The veins in the man’s head started to stand out. “You don’t scare me, boy.”

  Julian gave a long sigh. “Call me ‘boy’ again.” He started to move around the man, going toward the driver side of the car. The man kept his gun trained on Julian but didn’t move to follow.

  “Get back over here.”

  Julian knelt down so that he was out of the man’s view. He reached out, muttering to himself, “please let this work.” His hand touched the edge of the shield that surrounded him. He then moved forward until the shield touched the side of the truck. He closed his eyes and pictured what he was going for. When he opened them, the truck was gone.

  The man stood there pointing the gun at him, confusion etched across his face. “Where’s my truck?”

  Julian began to step back, a slow, careful step each time. He looked up into the darkening sky. High in the clouds, he could make out a small speck growing larger as it drew closer to them. “You might want to move away.” He pointed up. He could hear a low whistle in the air grow louder with each passing second.

  The man looked up. “You can’t? You didn’t.” He squinted, using his gun hand to shield the top of his eyes.

  Julian kept stepping back, throwing the man a mocking grin and giving him a theatrical bow. “You really should run.” He straightened up. “Boy.”

  The man glared at him but looked up once more. He turned and fled, running faster than Julian thought the man had in him, though with an exaggerated limp that made the whole thing feel more comical than it should.

  Julian jumped to the edge of the parking lot just as the truck slammed nose first into the spot they had been standing half a minute before. The resulting rain of metal parts covered a good half of the parking lot, a tire appearing to chase the man across two lanes of parking lines before it bounced up and over him. The man screamed and fell to the ground with his hands over his head. Julian dialed 911.

  “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

  Julian looked to the structure at one side of the parking lot. “Yeah, I’m here at the Able Marketplace parking lot on…” He looked around for a street sign, “10th. There’s a guy here waiving a gun around. He’s already fired it once at somebody, but I don’t think it hit them. The guy is older forties with grey hair, and he’s wearing a flannel shirt and jeans. Has a limp,” Julian paused. “It looks like he blew up a car or something.”

  “Police are on their way. Can you stay on the phone with me? What’s your name?”

  Julian heard the phone chime again. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid for my life. I gotta go.” He hung up the phone and looked at the text. Another one that mentions blood. “What are the chances it’s another setup?” Still, he checked his watch before he jumped.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Additional Variable

  “Try it now.” Dr. Patton stepped back, clasping his hands behind his back.

  Before him, Brian strained against the thick metal restraints that held him to an inverted table. With his arms outstretched on smaller portions of the table, the image had a striking resemblance to a crucifixion. Muscled bulged and twisted along the young man’s chest and arms, but this time the metal didn’t budge. After another grunt and straining, Brian gave up. “Is this really necessary? Can’t you just put me under and run your tests?”

  Dr. Patton looked to Vivian, who began to enter the data into the tablet she held. He turned back to Brian with a serious face. “Did they talk about the scientific method much in High School, Mr. Lockhart?”

  Brian frowned. “A bit. I think. I don’t remember much of it, to be honest.”

  Dr. Patton shrugged. “It was a public school. I expected no less. One of the core tenants of the scientific method is that we need to remove as many variables from an experiment as possible. That way we can determine if our findings are because of what we are testing and not something else entirely. Take for example today’s test. We have already determined that something sharp and thin, like a needle, can puncture your skin.” He nodded to the IV going into Brian’s left wrist. “Which is good, but also falls under the realm of a weakness. So, what we want to test is where the line is, between a needle’s point and a rounded bullet. They make bullets now that have a very sharp point. So, we’re going to test your puncture strength against various sharp and blunted edges.”

  Brian nodded. “But what does that have to do with knocking me out first?”

  “Patience, Mr. Lockhart. Patience. I’m getting to that. Depending on the drug we use, it could have a reaction on you. A reaction that skews our findings. Perhaps having something that relaxes your muscles will make you more susceptible to damage. It may lower your puncture strength. Or your body may decide that since it’s more vulner
able, it’ll increase your puncture strength. Or, it could be entirely dependant on your being aware the strike is coming. If you decide to stay long enough, we will test each of these scenarios. But first, we need to establish a baseline.”

  Brian nodded. “That sounds very painful.”

  “It will be. I promised you pain at the onset. But you’re being compensated nicely for your cooperation.” Dr. Patton turned to see Vivian scanning through some pop-ups on her tablet. By the look on her face, it was not good news.

  “Speaking of which. You’ve told my family I’m alive?”

  Dr. Patton nodded without looking at him. “We have. We made them sign a non-disclosure statement much in the same manner as you have. Your father balked at first, as we wouldn’t tell them anything until they signed. It was your mother that finally swayed him. They are relieved, and amused that you’ve found such a lucrative job.”

  Brian chuckled. “Yeah, Dad’s a bit of a hard head. You’re sending them ten percent of my paycheck as I asked?”

  “We are. Though, they have set it up as an investment account for you. The return is actually quite nice.” Dr. Patton watched Vivian as she stepped off to a darker corner.

  “How do you know that?”

  He looked back at Brian. “They are being monitored very closely, Mr. Lockhart. You asked me to put a great deal of trust in them, and I have. But only a fool trusts strangers without evidence.”

  Brian nodded. “That makes sense. Thank you.”

  “Of course.”

  “Doctor.” Vivian waved him over, motioning for him to follow her into the adjacent room. Her face let him know that something was indeed very wrong.

  “If you’ll excuse me Mr. Lockhart, I’ll return shortly, and we’ll begin.” He walked into the next room to find her sighing and shaking her head. He closed the door behind him. “What is it?”

  “Our search team has found Hypno-. They found Subject 6. He’s dead. Someone burned a hole through his chest and cut out his eyes.” Vivian frowned as she read that last part.

  Dr. Patton raised a brow. “They took his eyes? He was looking for Miss Given’s missing limb, and now he had a burn hole through his chest. How sure are we that the body we have is Miss Givens?”

  “Tests confirm it is her. Fingerprints, dental, and DNA.”

  “There are no cases of duplicated abilities. It’s bound to happen, but something tells me there is a different reason for this. Could someone be trying to recreate my work?” His hand ran along the Gauntlet he wore. “Where was he found?”

  “Dumped outside the CDC.”

  He thought about this for a moment. “That feels important too. Are they bringing the body in?”

  Vivian nodded. “ETA in a few hours.”

  “Have Subject 8 take a look at him. See if she can figure out what happened. Might be we have another big player on the board we aren’t aware of. A powerful player that may change the way we play the game.”

  Vivian blinked. “You want Soothsayer to read a corpse? She’s never done that before. Are we even sure she can do that?”

  “No idea,” Dr. Patton admitted. “But if she can, it’ll make things far more interesting. Depending on her results, I might have to visit Mr. Tarot before he resurrects again. This is exciting. I can tell by the look on your face that there’s more. Out with it.”

  “The twins are dead. They were on a mission to collect Mr. Holger and a policeman gunned them down. An officer Lanton. Our source in the department states that he interrupted them mid-mission and gunned them down.”

  “Can we confirm they were using their ability?”

  She sighed. “Yes, I believe they were. The reports we got were that Officer Lanton was in a meeting with their Chief and then suddenly appeared in the room with the twins, with one of them already dead.”

  “So there is a chance that this officer has something that counteracted their ability. That would be a welcomed addition to my collection. Start building a file on this man. I’d rather not resort to killing him, two officers in one week is being careless, so let’s see what kind of leverage we can come up with.” His phone vibrated in his pocket, and the readout on the Gauntlet indicated that General Harrison was on the line.

  “Of course, Doctor. Right away.” She moved off to begin typing up the command to their team.

  Dr. Patton pressed a button on his Bluetooth earpiece. “General Harrison. How may I help you?”

  “Your son can manipulate gravity?” His tone was steady, but Dr. Patton didn’t need the voice analysis readout on the Gauntlet to let him know that the General was beyond agitated.

  “My son’s ability is of no concern to you.”

  “The fuck it is, Patton. My scientist says that if he wants, he can open a black hole on the surface of the planet and it’s bye bye world. He’s a fucking liability, and you should have informed me.”

  Dr. Patton began typing into his Gauntlet as he spoke. “I should have informed you? I do not serve at your leisure, General. You should remember that and check your tone.”

  The man on the other ended sputtered for a few seconds before regaining his composure. “You think I’m afraid of you and your little band of freaks? Don’t you dare threaten me. I’m calling you as a professional courtesy. I have already dispatched a team to eliminate the threat. They’ll be arriving shortly. Your son will be dead within the hour.”

  “You’ve sent people to kill my son?” It was a good thing his device didn’t give his own voice metrics. “That isn’t a call you are authorized to make.”

  “Already made. This is a matter of national security. Hell, this is a matter of world security. Your little stain could wipe out the whole solar system. “

  “Are you in your office right now? Is the door closed?” Dr. Patton already knew the answer.

  “Don’t think you can play your mind games on me, Patton. I’m not some bright-eyed doctor fresh out of college. You don’t frighten me.”

  “The fact that I don’t frighten you is exactly why I know you’d never make it into Mensa” He typed a few key commands into his Gauntlet. “Your family does not deserve what is coming, but I did promise you what would happen if you crossed me.”

  “Now listen here you son of a bit- Ouch! What the fuck was that?!” The general erupted into more cursing before the sound on the other end became a gurgling noise.

  Dr. Patton disconnected the call and dialed a different number. “Sir?”

  “You’ve been promoted. Your boss is currently dying of anaphylactic shock from a potent bee sting to his ear. Wait about another minute and then rush in and try to save him. By then it will be too late, but you will look valiant in the effort. When you have a chance, replace the phone receiver as it has a needle in it that we do not want anyone to find. A dead bee will have dropped out of a compartment in the handle as well. “

  “We’re ahead of schedule.”

  “That we are.”

  “And his family?”

  “I don’t make idle threats. I warned of the possible repercussions.”

  “Understood. I’ll be going now.” The line went dead.

  Dr. Patton opened the door to where Brian waited. “Shall we begin?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The B Team

  Lanton sat with his head bowed, his shaking hands clasped before him as if he were deep in prayer. Aside from him, the large waiting room sat empty, shadows clinging to everything. Well, it wasn’t exactly empty. Seated across from him sat a grinning demon. It didn’t say anything, but it didn’t need to. It no longer looked campy and the leering monstrosity appeared as real as the chair he crouched upon. “I know,” Lanton whispered. “Time’s almost up.” He had handed over his gun for the impending investigation. At the time it hadn’t been something he wanted to do, but now it felt like a blessing in disguise.

  The demon tapped the back of its hairy wrist, giving him a knowing nod.

  A steaming cup of coffee appeared in Lanton’s view. “Here you go,
Boss.” Grimm stepped into view, looking the worse for wear. “How’s the perp?”

  “You ever seen what a .45 at close range does to a watermelon?” He accepted the cup and took a careful sip of piping hot goodness.

  “Only on Youtube. That bad, eh?” He took a seat where the demon had been sitting, the hellish creature vanishing in a cloud of black smoke.