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Tears of No Return

Page 14

by David Bernstein


  Even with taking the multiple bullets to his body, Morgan’s plan worked as he landed on top of the agent. They tumbled to the ground. Morgan knocked the man’s gun away. A second later he found himself standing over the downed agent.

  Breathing rapidly, his suit dotted in Morgan’s blood, the man said, “You’re him, aren’t you?”

  Morgan grabbed the man by his collar, heaving him into the air and slamming him onto the roof of the car Karen was in. One of the rear windows shattered from the impact as the guy bounced off and crumbled to the ground.

  Chapter 27

  “Karen, stay down.” It was Morgan’s voice. He was all right or at least appeared to be.

  She closed her eyes and waited, not moving, leaving the pieces of glass where they lay. A thud sounded against the car’s door near her head.

  “Morgan?” she called, praying he was still all right.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Just wanted to make sure the guy was unconscious.”

  “Can I sit up now?”

  “Yes, it’s all clear,” he told her.

  She pushed herself up. Pieces of the window fell off her. Some of the glass clung stubbornly to her hair, not wanting to let go. She closed her eyes and shook her head before brushing herself off.

  Morgan opened the car door. Karen’s eyes widened with disbelief at the sight of her friend. “You look awful,” she told him. His shirt was shredded and bloody, as if his chest had exploded. He had blood on his neck and a red stream ran down his pant leg.

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “Guess I took some serious damage.”

  “Are you going to be okay? Is the way you look equivalent to me skinning a knee?”

  Morgan laughed tiredly. “I’ll be fine. Feels like I walked into a beehive, is all.”

  Suddenly Morgan was yanked out of Karen’s view by some unseen force. She heard him yelling, his speech slurred as if drunk. “Run, Karen—get out of here.”

  Gunshots rang out.

  Karen sprang from the car, leaving through the opposite door. Planting her feet on the ground, ready to run, she hoped Morgan was kicking whoever’s ass it was that had grabbed him.

  “Hold it right there, missy,” a voice commanded. Staring up the roadway, Karen saw that a car was approaching. It slowed as it neared the scene then sped up, clearly alarmed at the sight. Karen put her hands up. “Turn around,” the voice said, and she did.

  The agent was pointing a gun at her. He looked as if he’d gone ten rounds with a gorilla. His face was bruised and bloody, his suit torn in places and covered in a mix of roadside grime and gore.

  Karen couldn’t see where Morgan was, but guessed he was lying on the ground at the man’s feet. The guy lowered his weapon, pointed it toward the earth, and fired two shots. Morgan howled in agony.

  “Stop it,” she yelled.

  “Have to keep this one weak,” the agent said, before retraining his aim at her.

  Angered, feeling a kernel of warmth growing in her abdomen, Karen dove into the man’s mind. He’d shoot her dead without a second thought, but his main goal was to bring her in alive. “Okay, just stop hurting him.” The man laughed and fired two more shots into Morgan. “Stop it. Just stop it.”

  “You actually care for this thing?” the man asked, disgust apparent in his voice. “He seems pretty tough. I wouldn’t worry about him. He’ll make for an interesting study, along with you. I’ll probably get a promotion for capturing two of The Murphy Unit’s most wanted.” The man beamed then fired another shot down at Morgan.

  Karen screamed in rage. “Stop it, you bastard. You’ll kill him.”

  “Maybe. The faster you get over here, the quicker I’ll stop putting slugs into your boyfriend.”

  Karen walked quickly, hands up, to the agent. Looking down, she saw Morgan lying on his back, a bloody pulp she barely recognized. The man had been shooting him in the face. She wondered how much more Morgan could take.

  “You sick bastard,” Karen spat. “You have me, now leave him alone.”

  The man fired another shot, the bullet hitting Morgan in the gut. Karen charged at the agent like a crazed animal. He easily avoided her feeble attempt and tossed her to the ground. Anger coursed through Karen’s body, fueling her for battle. She got to her feet quickly. Her second attack was just as pathetic as the first. This time the man flung her at Morgan.

  She landed on Morgan’s body. A sickening, squishy sound filled the air as Karen’s hand slid across Morgan’s face. She stared at it in horror then glanced back at the agent, who was doubled over and laughing. The man before her was wicked; a self-absorbed sociopath working for an evil organization that needed to be destroyed.

  “Get up, bitch, and stop fucking around or this is only going to get worse for you and loverboy.”

  Karen only wanted to hurt this man. Make him feel even an iota of what he’d done to Morgan.

  Morgan moved beneath her, and Karen’s thoughts turned to helping him. He was her last hope, her friend and someone she couldn’t bear to lose. She wasn’t surprised to feel this way. Love for another being had no timetable.

  Karen rose to her feet. The man grinned at her. She felt like a phoenix being reborn from ash. No longer just a woman, she had become something new, something more powerful. The man began laughing again. Karen connected with his mind. He thought she looked hot in her current state. He’d beaten women before; had gotten off on it.

  “Going to try again?” he asked.

  Karen’s chest heaved in and out, her breathing rapid, as if she’d just finished a quarter-mile sprint. Her insides were on fire, her gut filled with butterflies. She concentrated like never before, focusing in on the man’s mind. She went in deep, violating his most inner thoughts. She saw secret things locked away that even he himself wasn’t aware of. Things the mind knew better than to let out. She’d found his fears and began sifting through them, learning the worst, most terrifying truths. Karen brought them to the surface, releasing them like a pack of vicious wolves.

  The man began screaming. He fell to his knees, bringing his hands to his head, the gun still in his grip.

  “No!” he shouted. “Stop it. I can’t see them. Make them stop.”

  Karen dug deeper. She held onto the man’s worst images, adding more to the forefront of his thoughts as her hate grew. The man began bashing the side of his head with the gun, drawing blood.

  “Karen,” a garbled voice called out. She ignored it. The voice spoke her name again, this time louder. “You’re killing him. Remember, we need him alive. Please, Karen.” Something in Morgan’s voice connected, getting through to her, soothing her.

  She released her hold on the man and fell to her hands and knees. Staring at the ground, she took long, deep breaths, feeling the rabid animal she’d become subside.

  Looking up, she saw the agent. He’d fallen over unconscious; the side of his head a bloody mat of hair.

  She scrambled over to Morgan. Seeing his condition, her heart sank and tears welled. She turned away to compose herself. Facing him again, she said, “You’re okay now?”

  “Not really,” he said, and Karen could almost hear him wanting to laugh. “We need to get the hell out of here.” She saw one of his eyes open, the other gone and running down the side of his face. “Cops will be here any minute.”

  Karen helped Morgan to the car, sitting him in the passenger seat. He looked like an accident victim—the kind that belonged in a body bag. She took the keys from his pocket and opened the trunk. The space was empty apart for a few bungee cords, a milk crate, and a tool box.

  Using the bungee cords, Karen tied the agent’s hands together. She managed to drag his unconscious body to the car, but lifting him into the trunk proved impossible. The man easily weighed more than two hundred pounds. He was big. Morgan would be of no help, barely alive as he was. They had to leave now, but leaving without the agent was not an option.

  Karen dove into the man’s head. He was out cold, a blank slate. She tried penetrating his mind a
gain, wanting to go deep into his head, but couldn’t. She tried again without luck.

  Frustrated, Karen pounded her fists against her sides. “Damn it.” It must have been the rage she felt that allowed her to raise her mind-reading abilities to another level. There was more to this gift than she knew and it would have to be explored, but later. Now she needed to get the son of a bitch up and into the trunk.

  Karen connected to the man. If there was more to her gift than mind-reading, then she needed to try other things. She began shouting with her mind for the man to wake up. When nothing happened, she slapped him physically while remaining mentally connected. She continued trying to send her thoughts into his head. She had no idea if it was the slapping or her mental jarring, but the man stirred.

  Holding his gun in her right hand, she grabbed his jaw with her left, staring intently into his eyes. “Get up and put your useless sack into the trunk of my car or I’ll make what I did to you look like a picnic in Central Park on a breezy summer day.” Karen had no idea if she’d ever be able to do what she did again, not at least without the rage, but she needed this man to believe she could. And even if she could bring him to the brink of a nervous breakdown, she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. What she’d done before was wrong, wasn’t it? She’d tortured another human being. Not physically, but mentally, which was just as shameful.

  The man deserved to be punished, but her enjoyment at his suffering wasn’t something she wanted on her conscience.

  She backed away, holding the gun at her side as the man got to his feet. He looked like a different person, unsure of himself. He was no longer the brash bully. His bulky frame trembled.

  “What are you?” he asked.

  “That’s what I’d like to know,” Karen demanded. “Now get in the trunk.” She wondered how much the Murphy people knew about the extent of her abilities. Josh had most certainly been raging when she met him, but Karen hadn’t felt anything from him like what she was able to do to the agent. She guessed the Murphy people knew very little or nothing at all; at least when it came to what she had been able to do to the agent standing before her.

  “Are you going to kill me?” the man asked.

  It was pathetic how feeble the man now was. She had fractured his soul. “Get in the trunk or I’ll bring on the nightmares again.”

  The man did as he was told. Karen slammed the trunk closed.

  Chapter 28

  “Karen,” Morgan managed, his voice a gurgled whisper. “We have to dump this guy.”

  Karen’s skin rippled with goosebumps at hearing his voice. She concentrated on driving, a million thoughts racing through her mind. “What? Why?” she asked, turning to look at Morgan before quickly looking back at the road. He was a mangled mass of flesh, blood, and tissue.

  “You have to question the guy. Drive to somewhere secluded and get the answers.”

  “Are you going to be okay? I mean, we never discussed…” She paused, unsure whether she wanted to know the answer or not.

  “I’ll be fine,” he insisted.

  Karen took a deep breath through her nostrils, held it a moment, then exhaled through her mouth.

  “Get off at the next exit,” Morgan said. Karen raced down the highway, keeping her speed to only five miles over the posted limit.

  They needed to avoid everyone, especially the tollbooth operator, because of Morgan’s present state. The last thing they needed was the police stopping them.

  Morgan crawled into the backseat, leaving slick blood everywhere. Karen winced as his groans of pain filled the car. They approached the tollbooth.

  “Dollar-fifty, please,” the woman said.

  Karen handed her two dollars.

  “Are you okay, ma’am?”

  Karen forced a smile. “Yes, just in a hurry.”

  “You an artist or something?”

  Karen opened her mouth to say no, then quickly changed her mind when she saw the blood covering the back of her hand. “Oh, this,” she said, still smiling. “Painting my barn, got a little messy didn’t I?”

  The woman’s face brightened. “You sure did, ma’am.” She handed Karen the change. “Have a good day.”

  “You too,” Karen said and drove off.

  Karen had no idea where to go and wasn’t sure how much Morgan would be able to help.

  “Take a left at the bottom of the hill,” he said, surprising her. “Think I’d leave you alone for this?”

  Karen wanted to cry. Even in the condition he was in, Morgan was still with her. Apparently, he knew the area well, and she was thankful. He told her when and where to turn. She made lefts and rights, waiting for the next set of directions.

  “It’s here on the left,” Morgan said.

  The place was an abandoned pool store with nothing but forest behind and to either side of it. Morgan had used the building as a hideout and hoped it was still vacant. Pale blue paint peeled from the outside walls and the windows and front doors were boarded over with plywood. As if the store’s condition wasn’t enough to indicate its vacancy, a real estate ‘For Sale’ sign was posted. Karen pulled the car behind the building and shut off the engine.

  “He’ll have a tracking device on him,” Morgan said. “So make it fast.”

  “You’re not coming?” Karen asked, before realizing what she was asking of him.

  “No, I’m going to lie out in the sun, catch some rays…and heal as much as I can. Without vampire blood, it won’t do much, but any little bit will help. Find out where the base is, then we get the hell out of here.” He paused. “Take the gun with you.”

  Karen got out and walked to the back of the car. She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and told herself she could do this. Then she opened the trunk.

  The man lay awake, staring up at her, but shielding his eyes from the light.

  “Get out,” she commanded, pointing the gun at him. Reading his thoughts, she knew he wasn’t as scared as he had been. His military training must’ve kicked in, enabling him to fall back into soldier mode. “Try to take me down and I’ll make what I did to you before seem joyful.”

  The man climbed out slowly, his bound hands making the task difficult. “If you’re so powerful, what do you need the gun for?”

  Karen backed away a few paces, wanting some distance should he try anything. “Your files on me aren’t up to the minute, are they?” she asked. “You have no idea the things I’m capable of.”

  The man shook his head. “What do you want?”

  “Where is the Murphy base located?” Without hearing him answer, she heard his thoughts. She saw the same set of words and images that McKlintock had thought, giving her a picture: a red barn in an open field, surrounded by a fence just off Walter Road.

  “Go fuck yourself.” The man had shaken off the effects of what she’d previously done to him. In a way, Karen was relieved. She was afraid that her gift had caused permanent trauma and that scared the shit out of her. Knowing the human mind was capable of recovering from her assault gave her less pause to use her abilities. Along with learning to control herself, she would need to know how long an individual could stand the mental torture before the damage was permanent

  “He’s stalling,” Morgan croaked from behind, startling Karen. “We need to move this inside.”

  Morgan leaned against the wall of the building, looking like fresh road-kill, but seemed to have an inner strength missing just minutes before. Morgan worked his way to a rear door, grabbed the padlock attached to it, and yanked down, breaking open the lock. Karen was amazed. Even with his body so weakened, he was still much stronger than any human. “Take him inside and shoot him in the knee. We don’t have time for this.”

  “It’ll be dark in there,” Karen said. “The place is boarded up.”

  “It’s got skylights along the hallway and in the showcase room. The lighting will be fine.”

  Karen had never shot anyone before. Reading the man’s mind, he didn’t think she had it in her. He was grinning
on the inside. Her eyes narrowed into slits. She needed to show her foe that she wasn’t fooling around.

  She ushered the agent inside the building. Morgan was correct. Dingy sunlight poked through the skylights in the hallway, illuminating the place well enough. She directed her prisoner down the hall, passing gloomy offices, and into what must have been the showroom. Dust-layered cobwebs hung from the ceiling. The air felt damp, stunk of mildew. Other than a few empty cardboard boxes, the place was empty. She told the agent to stop a few feet into the room.

  Karen lowered the gun, pointing it at the man’s feet. Pulling the trigger, she sent a single bullet into the linoleum floor close to his expensive shoes. He didn’t budge, still thinking she couldn’t do it. He was beginning to believe she’d used up her powers, according to the chatter ping-ponging through his thoughts. Karen took better aim the next time and fired a bullet into the man’s shin. He howled in pain and collapsed to the floor.

  “You bitch!” he screamed. “I’m going to cut out your heart and feed it to you.”

  She fired again, hitting the man in his foot and blowing off the front of his shoe, toes and all. He howled again, writhing around on the dusty floor, blood leaking everywhere.

  “Tell me where the base is. I want directions. Names of roads. And I’ll know if you’re lying.” She aimed the gun at his mid-section before lowering it slightly. “The next shot goes through your manhood.”

  The agent sat up, holding his shin. “I’m bleeding to death here, lady.”

  “Tell me what I want to know and you’ll be taken care of.” She spoke coldly as if she were a seasoned assassin.

  The man told her everything she asked, giving her names and directions along with a physical description of the place.

  “The base is a fortress though,” he added. “You’ll never get in. Now help me out.”

  Karen smiled. “I’m sure your men will be along shortly to help you. Hang tough until then.” She turned and left the building.

 

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