He went sprawling back through the wall and landed facedown with a clang, his metal chestpiece landing on the tile floor. He ripped at his mask and I smiled; he couldn’t see a thing because I had covered his eyes with foam. “Looks like you need some glass coverings on your helmet with some little windshield wipers.” I grabbed him by the helmet again and lifted him over my head, slamming him to the ground. Fragments of tile shattered and flew everywhere; I saw Zack dodging away from us. I lifted him again and started to bring him down but I felt him slip out of his helmet on the downward arc.
Henderschott bounced and landed on his hands and knees, his head exposed. His hand came up to his face and wiped the powdery film of the fire extinguisher away from his eyes as he rose to his feet and his hands dropped to his side. His face was scarred, hideous, with scars from his forehead to his chin. One of his cheeks was sunken in, like the flesh had been stolen from it. His teeth were jagged, what of them were left, and his jaw hung at a funny angle.
I cocked my head and looked at him, pretending to appraise. “You know, I liked you better with the helmet. Here.” Without telegraphing I threw it at him, as hard as I could. He didn’t dodge in time, didn’t even get a hand up. The helmet hit him in the nose and a geyser of blood erupted as his head snapped back. He staggered, moaned and his hand came up to his face. After a second of trying to clench his nose with his metal encased fingers I saw him drop one of his gauntlets to the ground. He held his hand over his nose, but it didn’t do much good. He was bleeding badly; it was slick down the front of his armor.
He looked to be unsteady on his feet and I pulled my gloves off one by one, tucking them into my pocket. He looked at me, his eyes watering. In the distance I could hear police sirens. Henderschott heard them too, his eyes flicked around and he turned and ran into the department store to the side of us. I took off after him in spite of a shout from Zack. “Get Kurt out of here!” I yelled back to him. “Pick me up outside!”
I saw Henderschott running through racks of clothing, flinging them aside, metal and fabric all around me. There were shouts and screams as people tried to get out of his way. He was slower than I was but he made good use of the obstacles in the store to slow me down. He heaved a circular rack that was five feet in diameter at me and I was forced to dodge to the side, pulling a stroller with a kid in it along with me.
I landed on all fours, staring at the face of a very scared baby before jumping back to my feet and returning to the chase. I heard a scream of gratitude from the kid’s mom and the beginning of a serious cry from the kid as Henderschott blasted through the glass exit doors feet first. I wondered why he had jumped through them that way until it occurred to me that with his head unprotected he’d get sliced like lettuce if he had plowed through the glass in a shoulder charge.
The window shattered as he broke through it. He landed on his back just outside the door and grabbed a trash can from the sidewalk. I had just rounded the corner and was about to follow him through when he whipped the trash can at me. It was big, looked to be encased in concrete, and it blasted through the windows that hadn’t already been broken between us. I was forced to throw myself out of the way to avoid a shower of broken glass that cut through the air where I had been standing only a moment before, shredding the clothing on the rack behind me.
I picked myself up from the floor and looked up to find Henderschott gone. I ran outside through the glass he had broken, my hands ready to seize him by the face and drown him in unconsciousness, but as the biting chill of the outside air prickled my hands and face, I looked to either side. He was gone. Just in case, I looked up the side of the building. No sign of him.
What there was a very clear sign of, however, was police presence. Red and blue lights were flashing at the entrances and more were lighting up the night at all corners of the parking lot. A car screeched to a halt in front of me, Zack at the wheel and Kurt sprawled out in the back. Zack made a frantic gesture for me to get in, which I did, and the tires squealed as we made our getaway.
Chapter 16
“What happened to the armored guy?” Zack’s hands were clenched tight on the wheel as he steered us through the parking lot and to an exit that didn’t have red and blue lights swarming along the road it led to.
“I don’t know.” I pulled my gloves out of my pocket and slipped them back on. “He threw a trash can at me and when I got back up, he was gone. I guess he hid in the parking lot.”
“Doesn’t matter now,” Zack said, sending me a tense smile. “With that many police officers on the ground, we would have had a hell of a time apprehending him.”
“Not as tough as you think,” I said. “All I needed was another minute without the cops and I think I could have put him down.”
He looked from the road to my hands, now back in their black leather sheaths. “You really would have done it?”
“I would have knocked him out.” I looked at Zack’s earnest eyes. “I think I can do that without killing someone. I mean, I don’t really want to...you know.”
“Yeah.” He turned back to the road. “I know.”
I looked to Kurt in the back seat. He still wore the collar but seemed to be unconscious and presumably no longer electrified. Zack pulled out his cell phone and made a call to Ariadne, filling her in on the encounter at the mall.
When we returned to the campus, we did not head to the garage but instead to the small underground parking area under Headquarters. When we pulled up in front of the door, Dr. Perugini was waiting along with Ariadne and Kat Forrest. When she saw me, the doctor began wagging her finger before the vehicle had even stopped. “You! I knew it was you!”
“I didn’t do it,” I said, shutting the door behind me and opening the one to the backseat.
Perugini’s eyes narrowed. “Why is it that I do not believe you?”
“Isabella,” Ariadne said with excess gentleness. “Perhaps you could make sure Hannegan is all right?”
“I will treat him,” she snapped. “What is this?” She leaned down and pointed at the collar around his neck.
“Some sort of electricity-based capture collar,” Zack said. “It was meant for her,” he inclined his head toward me, “so it’s probably pretty damned strong.”
She poked at it, and Hannegan jerked and screamed, electricity running through his body. I jumped back from the door, leaving him plenty of space to writhe about. He fell out of the backseat, landing on his shoulder and coming to rest in a heap on the curb. Everyone else kept their distance except Dr. Perugini, who stood only a few inches away. “I need to get this off of him.” She whirled to Ariadne. “I need the lab rat.
Ariadne looked taken aback. “Dr. Sessions? Perhaps you remember he was flambéed last night? He’s on leave.”
“Unless you want Hannegan to leave the planet, get me the lab rat so he can get this maledetto collar off of him!” She spun back to me. “You! Make yourself useful and pick him up!”
I did. Zack stared at me as I set Kurt down on the gurney and Dr. Perugini strapped him in across the midsection and legs. She jerked her head toward Kat, who had been watching the whole exchange so far without saying a word, looking like someone in far, far over her head. “Can you tell me how hurt he is?”
Kat blinked a few times then stepped forward, laying her hands on his face. She didn’t look quite as tanned as she usually did; in fact, her face had a kind of pallor about it and she looked almost gray. I started to ask if she was okay but I remembered that when last I had seen her she was trying to undo my handiwork on Scott, so I shut up. Her hands hovered over his face. When she withdrew them she appeared to be unsteady on her feet. “He’s hurt, but not too bad,” she said. “Some nerve damage, I think. Maybe some tissue damage to the heart, I can’t tell.” She looked up at us, weary sadness filling her face. “I’m sorry. I can’t do anything to help him, I’m too exhausted.”
“That’s all right, sweetie,” Perugini said, soothing. “That tells me most of what I need to know.” She
looked back to Ariadne. “Sessions. I need him now.”
Ariadne nodded and pulled out her phone. “I’ll have him meet you at the medical unit.” We watched as Perugini pushed Kurt inside on the gurney, Kat trailing behind her. Ariadne was on the phone for less than thirty seconds and when she got off, she gave Zack and I a wan smile. “So, it was a trap?”
“I think so.” I answered before Zack did, causing him to blink in surprise. “This guy wanted to stir up enough meta trouble to get the Directorate involved and tail your agents back here so he could find me.”
“How did you know who he was?” Zack stared me down, drawing Ariadne’s attention to me as well.
I almost panicked, then realized that there was an easy answer. “Reed told me this guy was looking for me but he didn’t know when he was gonna show up.”
Ariadne let out a sigh of exasperation. “You could have mentioned this before.”
I smiled weakly. “Trust.”
Ariadne crossed her arms in front of her. “Fine. Give me his name and I’ll see if we have anything on him.” She looked me over. “How are you feeling?”
I thought about it before I answered. “I’m fine. It felt...really good to win a fight for once.” I frowned. “Without getting pummeled to a near-death state.”
“Try and make a habit of that, will you?” She looked back to the door where Dr. Perugini had gone only moments before. “I don’t think il dottore is very pleased with you at present.”
“I’ll add her to a list that’s growing by the day,” I said. “I don’t know what it is that makes people so angry with me.”
“Perhaps you insulted her,” Ariadne said with only a touch of irony. I let it pass. I actually did feel good. She turned to Zack. “I’ll expect your report tomorrow morning.” With a nod at me she went back into Headquarters, leaving the two of us alone.
“Anything else you want to tell me about the man in the iron lung?” Zack looked at me with hard eyes as soon as she was gone.
“Umm.” I pretended to think about it. “His name is David Henderschott, he’s a Pisces, he likes long walks on the beach at night, and his favorite drink is a fuzzy navel. He’s also a fan of Streisand movies, and he listens to Nickelback when he’s alone and in the shower.” I snickered. “I might have made a few of those up.”
Zack did not appear to be amused. “I’m not surprised.
“Well, seriously, I mean I don’t know anything else about him except that his skin is what binds those metal plates to him.” I shrugged, my arms expansive. “I only have the basics.”
“And you didn’t mention this before, when we first encountered him?” Dark suspicion glassed over his eyes.
“Like I told Ariadne, we’re not to the full-trust stage yet.” I stared him down. “Give it a little more time, maybe.”
“Time,” he said with a shake of the head. “I don’t know what it’s going to take, but I doubt it’s just time. I’m gonna go check on Kurt.”
He left, and I felt a stab of guilt for lying to him. I exited the garage through a side door, stepping out into the winter night. It was starting to snow, the flakes landing delicately on my shoulders. Had I been less preoccupied, I might have tried to catch one on my tongue. Yeah, I’d just dealt a hell of a beat-down to Henderschott, but he wasn’t dead, and for some reason, I suspected he’d be back. Wolfe was still somehow able to take control of my body at unfortunate moments (not that there would ever really be a fortunate moment for him to assume control) and because of him, I suspected I’d let loose an extremely dangerous meta to wreak untold havoc upon the world.
Did that mean anyone Gavrikov killed was another death on my conscience? I already had 254 that I blamed myself for. I’d kept a very careful accounting, sadly enough, and that was the tally. Sure, I hadn’t physically killed any of them myself (except Wolfe) but I regretted them all (except Wolfe).
I entered my room, shutting the door behind me. I had been tired hours ago; now I was exhausted. I threw down my coat, noting white powder spots from the drywall all over the exterior and a nice rip along the back, presumably from the fight with Henderschott, and I wondered if I should be worried. Did most seventeen-year-old girls get into as many fights as I did? I doubted this was normal for anyone but the worst delinquents.
A knock at the door jerked me out of my thoughts. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. Drywall dust was speckled through my hair and I had three visible rips in my shirt. I sighed and went to the door.
When I opened it, I was faced with a man I’d never seen before. He had a deeply pale face, his hair was brown and short, and his eyes were bright blue, in a shade that glittered even in the dim light.
“Yes?” I looked at him as I spoke. He was older, probably in his thirties or later. “Can I help you?”
“May I come in?” He spoke with a heavy accent that sounded Russian or Slavic.
“Umm...do I know you?” I looked at him, trying to determine if I’d seen him before. He wasn’t Henderschott, I knew that much. His face was normal, handsome even, though pale.
“Can I please come in?” He looked back down the hall, furtive, and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I saw you outside and followed you back here so we could talk.”
“Saw me outside?” I drew the door a little closer to shut. “There wasn’t anyone outside just now. The campus was deserted.” I straightened, trying to project the image that I was strong by drawing myself up to my full height. I doubt it worked. At 5 foot 4 inches, I was shorter than almost everyone. Including him. “By the way, telling a girl you followed her back to her room? Not exactly a turn on. Kinda makes you sound like a stalker.”
He brought his hand up to his eyes as though he were frustrated, massaging his temples. He looked out at me from behind his fingers. “I need to talk with you.” He pulled his hand away from his face and held it up. I stared at it, wondering what he was going to do next when the tip of his finger burst into flames. I yelped in surprise and the flame spread across his entire hand, stopping at the wrist. With an abrupt flick of his fingers, the fire died and his flesh returned.
“Aleksandr Gavrikov,” I whispered.
He stared down at me with those intense, blue eyes, and I swore I could see a hint of fire deep within them. “Yes. Now can I come in?”
Chapter 17
I took a few steps back trying to get away from him, but Gavrikov took it as a sign to enter. He closed the door after checking the hallway again. He pressed his back to the door after shutting it. He was haggard, his face pale, the coloring washed out. Big beads of sweat ran down his forehead and he was breathing heavily.
I didn’t want to ask, but I did it anyway. “Are you all right?” The backs of my thighs felt the soft impact of the edge of the bed; I could not retreat any farther without making it obvious.
“What?” His accent was more pronounced and he blinked a few times, as though his eyes were hurting him. “Oh. I have not been...” He stared down at his hands, as if seeing them for the first time. “It has been very long since I last quenched the fire.” He took another deep breath. “I don’t think I’ve done it since...” He looked up, concentrating as if trying to recall. “Not for over a hundred years.”
“Uh...how do you eat?” My brain screamed at me for my stupidity, asking him dumb questions when I should be jumping out the window, running far, far away from the man who blew up an entire building last night.
“I don’t,” he said with a grim smile. “When I am afire, I don’t need to eat, I subsist on air—it keeps the flames burning.”
“Oh.” I pondered that. “You don’t like being human?”
He looked down at his hands again. “Flesh is easily hurt. Not so with flame; it can be elusive, unquenchable—and it feels no pain.”
“Ah,” I said, still feeling dumb. “So...what do you want to talk about?”
“Have a seat,” he offered. I don’t know why, but I sat down on the bed. If he burst into flames, it wasn’t likely to matter whethe
r I was standing or not. He walked past me to the window and looked out. “I have to thank you again for freeing me.” He looked out through the glass, then to either side as if he were trying to find curtains.
I shook my head when he turned back to me. “The glass is mirrored. No one outside can see us.”
His hand touched the window and he looked at it, curious. “So many differences since I was a child. We did not even have windows in the house I grew up in.”
“Yeah, me neither, for all intents and purposes,” I said, drawing a surprised look from him. “I had a somewhat unconventional childhood.”
“Unconventional.” He nodded and half-smiled. “I like that. I had an unconventional childhood as well.”
“So.” I felt a little awkward, and I still wondered why he was here. “Mr. Gavrikov—
“Please,” he said with a wince. “Call me Aleksandr.”
“Well, I was trying to be a little more formal—”
“I hate that name. “ His mouth was a thin line. “I am only Aleksandr.”
“Okay.” The awkwardness did not abate. “Why are you here?”
He kept his distance, walking over to the desk and the computer that I had yet to use. He pulled out the chair and tentatively sat down in it. He was still sweating profusely and I wondered if he was suffering some sort of withdrawal from not using his power or if he was simply nervous. “Your Directorate—”
“Let me stop you right there,” I said, drawing a look of curiosity from him. “They’re not mine. I’ve only been here a couple weeks, and mostly because I have nowhere else to go since that psychotic Wolfe,” I felt him stir inside but he kept blissfully silent, “was chasing me down.”
“Wolfe?” He squinted at me. “You drew the ire of the beast and yet live?”
“Drew his ire?” I snorted. “I drew more than that.”
“No matter,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I have heard the legend of this beast. Help me and I will kill him for you.”
The Girl in the Box 02 - Untouched Page 13
