Silver and Gold (Red and Black Book 3)

by Nancy O'Toole Meservier

  “Which should make this easy.” I frowned back down at my hands.

  “Let’s think back. To the first time you changed—the cave-in.”

  I felt my skin break out into goosebumps at the thought of it, of the walls pressing in on all sides, and the explosion above as Chloe ignited her final bomb. I swallowed. That was the last thing I wanted to think about!

  But if I wanted to transform…

  “What were you thinking about the moment you transformed?” he asked.

  “I was scared,” I said. “I felt like I was being crushed to death. That things were probably…broken.” I swallowed again. “And that meant Mark and Casey were going to die, and it would be all my fault.”

  “That’s a lot to take on yourself, given that you weren’t the one who buried them in that room in the first place.”

  “But I should have been able to save him,” I said, turning toward him. “Ever since the Black Hats pulled me in here, whenever I’ve been scared…” I paused, looking down. “You’re gonna think I’m being stupid.”

  “Try me.”

  “I’ve thought about…Silver Shot and Golden Strike.”

  “Ah, the superheroes,” he said with a smile.

  “See? You do think it’s stupid.” I felt my face turn red.

  “Why would I? In times of crisis, we often think of people who can save us. It’s why children call for their mothers when scared. You were doing the same.”

  “I guess.”

  “Only, they weren’t there, so you became the person who could save the day. Or, at least, a version of that person that was also yourself. Perhaps that’s what you should be focusing on now. Not the crisis, not what triggered the fear.”

  I frowned and nodded.

  “I can try that.”

  And with that I closed my eyes, thinking not on the fear, or the pain, but on the desire to help. The desire to save Casey.

  Which you failed, a dark part of my mind said. Gardiner killed him anyway. And he’ll kill more. This escape plan. It’s worse than last time. Because then, the Black Hats didn’t necessarily want to kill everyone. If they’re planning on “purging” us soon anyway…

  The image of a line of Black Hats, their faces in shadow, came to my mind. I saw them standing in front of us, and felt the moment when their weapons fired, peppering everyone with bullets. Diego, Karen, Gerry, Mark…

  And then I thought about myself, jumping in front of them like some moronic Wonder Woman imposter without bullet-resistant gauntlets. But if I could heal, I could survive. And if I could survive, maybe they could too.

  Maybe I could save them all.

  I heard a sharp intake of breath from Diego and opened my eyes.

  I looked down at myself to see I stood in the same red and black outfit. My body looked stronger, taller. The perfect shield. A hero—

  Who had to dart away before Diego could slug me in the face.

  And well…it wasn’t exactly a graceful dodge.

  “Uh, what the hell?” I asked, lying in a heap on the tiled floor.

  “As expected,” he said with a sigh. “Impressive strength, less-impressive fighting skills.”

  “Hey, I’m new at this!”

  “It’s a good thing you have me then. We have, what…an hour?”

  “I think so,” I said. “Are you sure?”

  “As long you keep that strength of yours tuned down, brave girl. Some of us don’t heal as fast as you do.”

  One hour, three bad spills (all on my part), and one broken showerhead (also on my part) later, Diego and I handed over the room to Justin and Sam. As I made my way to the door, I heard Diego speak up.

  “Hey there, Supergirl, you might want to jump back into that telephone booth before heading out.”

  I blinked, looking down at my hands, a quippy retort jumping to my lips.

  “Superman is the phone booth,” Sam said. “Get your DC heroes straight, at least the basic ones.”

  I turned to the man, who, despite being the “leader” of the pod next to mine, I had never thought to get to know.

  “Um…are you a superhero fan?”

  “Since I was a kid,” he said. “And don’t get me started over how many Arrow episodes I’ve missed since being trapped in here. I never did figure out who the bad guy was last season.”

  “Oh! I know,” I began, then paused. “But…I should probably let you guys practice first.”

  “Probably.”

  Which left me with transforming back. Right. How could I do that without passing out? That turned out to be the easy part. All I did was close my eyes and think of myself as Dawn, wearing the red t-shirt and sweatpants I had pulled out of the clothes pile the last time the laundry had been brought over (both were too big for me—thank god for drawstrings). When I opened my eyes, I was back and feeling…vaguely disappointed.

  After that, Diego and I headed back toward our pod to check in with Karen, only to be surprised to find her talking with Bixby at the entrance to Pod One. The reason why immediately became obvious. A white woman with red hair stood in between them. It was Anna. When we had decided to take on SynergyCorp, Sam had said that she had cleared everything with that tall, model-gorgeous woman who happened to be a walking space heater.

  But I couldn’t help but wonder how “willing” she really was.

  “I can’t believe this,” she was saying. “Just because they gave me these stupid powers doesn’t mean I was meant to be some solider—”

  Karen hushed her, urging her to step farther into the room. I fought the impulse to look up at the observation decks.

  But instead of being quiet, Anna turned to me.

  “And I suppose you’re okay with all this?” she said. “Fighting? Killing?”

  Killing?

  Karen muttered something calming and I watched as Anna’s face crumbled and tears began to form in her eyes. She wasn’t angry, not really. She was terrified.

  And now, I was too. Because if my conversation with Diego was any indication, my powers were made for saving lives. Could I also take life away?

  22

  Alex

  Hours later, we pulled up to the back of Birchwood Realty. Lilah shoved the door open wide, a look of concern on her pretty face.

  Which immediately melted to exasperation.

  “You idiot, why didn’t you go to the hospital?” she asked.

  “Outsider doctors are shit.” Connor leaned on me for support. “They only know half the story.”

  “Connor, SynergyCorp basically threw you down an elevator shaft and then dropped half a mountain on you. Sometimes any medical attention is better than none!”

  I let out a sigh. When we had gotten to Connor, nothing big had been dropped on him, but not for lack of trying. One look down that tunnel had shown that SynergyCorp had destroyed their own facility and had attempted to kill us, rather than have the truth leak out.

  “Alex,” Lilah said, breaking my chain of thoughts. “Could you help him over to the van? I’ll drive him.”

  “Sure. Keys?” I asked.

  She tossed them to me.

  “Where’s Dawn?” I heard Alan ask as I opened the passenger-side door.

  “I…she’s inside,” Lilah said.

  There was something about the pause in her voice that made me frown. I shifted my body weight to help Connor into the van, then turned back to her.

  “I thought you said she was done with those memories,” I replied.

  “I thought so too,” Lilah said. “But Dawn had other ideas.”

  “How did this happen?”

  Alan took the words right out of my mouth as he stared down at his sister, seemingly sleeping peacefully on the white cot in Birchwood Realty. But we knew better.

  “I…don’t know,” Lilah said. “It’s true that this is beyond anything I’ve ever done before. But even then—”

  “This is unacceptable,” Alan retorted, his voice like ice. “You’re supposed to be the expert here. We trusted yo
u.”

  Lilah flinched at his words, but when she spoke next, her voice was steady. “Your anger is justified. Anyone in your situation would feel frustrated. But entering her memories on her own, unassisted? That shouldn’t even be possible.”

  “Actually, it might be,” I said.

  “What?”

  I sighed and told them about her experience being possessed by Calypso during the fall. I kept out the personal details but mentioned the door that kept all her memories of Project Regen locked away.

  “This is impossible,” Lilah muttered. “Dawn’s an illusionist, not a—”

  “Clearly it is,” I replied. “Which leads us to the real question. How is she going to get out?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve spent the last few hours trying to reach her, but she’s locked me out completely. Wherever she is now, she’s on her own. I’m sorry.”

  There was a long silence before she spoke again. “I need to drive my partner to the hospital. I’ll be back when I can.”

  “I understand,” I said, my eyes not leaving Dawn.

  I heard Lilah shuffle behind me and then headed down the hall. After a few seconds, I heard the door shut behind her.

  Alan shook his head. “Ridiculous. Those two are supposed to be helping Dawn. I fail to see how this is providing any assistance.” He gestured to his sleeping sister.

  “Oh, I agree,” I said with a sigh. “But if what Lilah said is correct, we may have no option but to let this thing run its course. I’m not any happier about this than you are—”

  “You could have fooled me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Dawn is reliving her worst moments right now. Those people who hurt her are getting to do it all over again. And you expect me to just stand around and do nothing about it?”

  As he spoke, he stepped toward me, stance aggressive, his voice cracking on the word “people.”

  “Listen,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I know you’ve been through this before—”

  “You know nothing,” he snapped, his expression closing off completely.

  And then he spun around and left the room.

  I let out a sigh and reached up to touch my forehead. I closed my eyes, urging the sparks around the edges of my vision to subside. The thundering migraine I had experienced after sending those rocks down the mountain had started to wear off, but I could still feel the pressure behind my eyes.

  Yeah, getting into an argument right now? Not a good idea.

  But I couldn’t blame the guy for being pissed. That month or so Dawn had been missing had to have been hell for her family. To know that she was going through it all again, without a lifeline? If I came back and found one of my sisters in a similar situation, I’d probably be in the same boat.

  But this was different. Frustrating, but different.

  Because this was such a Dawn thing to do. She stressed out about how she was controlled by her fears, but I had seen the woman jump off the top of skyscrapers. When it counted, when someone else was in trouble, she forgot to be scared. I had to trust her. That there was something in her memories she needed to face.

  And that she would be strong enough to pull herself out when it was all over.

  I sighed and pulled up a chair next to her bed, sitting down, armor and all, save for the helmet. I reached for her and brushed a hair out of her face before sitting back with a sigh.

  I’m not sure how long I sat there. It could have been several minutes, or close to an hour. But eventually, I heard movement again behind me. Looked like Alan was back from blowing off steam?

  “She still out?” said a voice that did not belong to Dawn’s brother.

  Eyebrows raised, I turned around to see Dana Peterson standing in the door, hands tucked in his pockets. Since I hadn’t seen the guy for months, I was immediately struck by the fact that there was a bit less of him. Dana had been a little overweight before. Nothing to get too worked up about, but he had definitely sported a bit of a gut. His hair looked overgrown as well. Yeah, this was less about losing vanity pounds and more about not taking care of himself.

  It wasn’t easy to live knowing that you had done some terrible shit, even if the person who had done that terrible shit wasn’t technically you.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I thought you guys could use my skills. Not those,” he added, referencing his ability to transfer powers from one person to another.

  “Your hacking skills,” I said. “I suppose that explains how you got in here in the first place.”

  “Nah, Lilah let me in hours ago.” He shrugged.

  “Speaking of which…” I reached down to my gym bag and pulled out the dented hard drive. I passed it to Dana. He shook it like it was a maraca. It made a sound like shattered glass.

  “Christ,” he said. “What did you do, take a hammer to it?”

  “Do I need to remind you that you sent us down a broken elevator?”

  “Fair point. Anyway, I hope the next words out of your mouth aren’t, ‘Dana the key to taking down Project Regen is on this hard drive, and we need you to use your techno-wizardry to unbreak it.’”

  “So, it’s destroyed?” I felt my shoulders slump.

  The resigned look on Dana’s face said it all. “I’ll… take a look at it. Later. Now, I might have some good news for you. Walk with me.”

  I frowned, wanting to be next to Dawn when she woke up (and she was going to wake up, I was sure of it), but I knew that could take a long time. Instead, I moved to my feet and followed Dana into the hallway.

  “Can’t believe they convinced you to put that back on,” Dana remarked.

  “Well, it kept me from busting my skull open,” I replied. “Wonder whose fault that was.”

  “Yeah, but I got you out.” He smiled. Then he saw the expression on my face, and it immediately fell. “I am really sorry about that, though. For everything.”

  “Yeah, what I should expect from a guy with merely above-average skills?”

  “Way to throw my own words back in my face, man.” We approached a door and Dana reached forward to open it. “If I knew you were going to be this unappreciative, I wouldn’t have done so much work.”

  “So much what?”

  After a line like that, I half expected the room we walked into to contain one of those impressive technological spreads from Dawn’s superhero shows. A sleek room filled with high-tech monitors and technology that could perform magic in just a few keystrokes.

  But it just looked like an office.

  Dana had commandeered a small, windowless office that reminded me of a closet, pushing aside a bunch of packing material to make room for one of his laptops. The screen cycled through various images. I caught sight of the SynergyCorp signal—three descending test tubes—stitched on a white lab coat.

  “Looking for your mysterious doctor lady,” Dana explained.

  “How could you do that without a name?” I asked. “I didn’t even get that good of a look at her face.”

  “Dawn’s memories,” Dana replied. “Her name is Dr. Hale. Which, after my search of SynergyCorp employee databases came up empty, I figured had to be some sort of alias. I mean, an evil doctor named Dr. Hale? Sounds like something out of a comic book.”

  “Or James Bond.”

  “Pretty much. Then I realized, hey, dummy, maybe SynergyCorp has a separate database for their shifty illegal human experimentation facilities. I couldn’t find an Edward Gardiner in here either, after all.”

  “They probably think he’s dead.”

  “Doesn’t change the fact that they would have at least listed him as a former employee.”

  “Hmmm. Okay. So, were you able to find this second database or…whatever?”

  “The confused way you said that gives me hope your generation isn’t about to completely replace mine in the realm of technology. Thank you, Alex.”

  “Stop joking around. Just answer the question.”

  “That w
ould be a no.”

  “Then why are we even having this conversation?”

  “Because Dr. Hale is a woman. And what do women do when they get married? Change their last names.”

  Mine hadn’t, but I didn’t see the point in interrupting. Instead, I watched as Dana clicked on the screen and pulled up a picture of a dark-haired woman. I frowned. I guess she could have been the woman from the video. Her face left no strong impression. She was neither attractive nor ugly. Her hair was a medium color of brown, her skin neither tan nor pale. And she wasn’t particularly young or old.

  Although, now that I looked at it…

  “Is this an old picture?” I said. “It was hard to tell with the mask.”

  “Oh, this is a ten-year-old picture of Dr. Angela Haywood,” he said. “Experimental researcher at Fairview Chemical, located in Connecticut. Apparently, she made quite a stir ten years back for some let’s say, unethical practices in the line of Parkinson’s research. She had a reputation for being willing to go to great lengths to get the results she needed. Maybe a little too far.”

  I thought back on the videos of Mark, and how he had screamed.

  “Oh yeah, that sounds like the right person,” I said. “But how did you connect Haywood with Hale?”

  “Well, for that you need to go into the history of our good doctor. Apparently after this whole debacle at Fairview, she found her life going a little south.”

  “Makes sense—who would want to hire her?”

  “Oh, she was financially secure. Investments. Generous severance package. You know, the reason why the rich stay rich, even when they should be in prison?”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  “It was more her personal life that went into meltdown. The following year, she and her husband, Leonard Haywood, went through a rough divorce, where he maintained sole custody of their son, who was just a baby at the time. And let me tell you from someone whose brother recently went through a nasty custody battle, the court doesn’t usually completely separate the kid from the mother. Sees them as more natural caregivers.”

  “Not when they have a history of unethical practices.”

  “Pretty much. So, here’s Dr. Haywood, recently out of a job, no husband, no kid, looking to start a new life. I found myself wondering if maybe, just maybe she reverted to using her maiden name. And lo and behold, it was Hale.”