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The Titan_The Luke Titan Chronicles

Page 20

by David Beers


  Waverly finished and then looked at Christian.

  “We’re in the parking lot. I’m giving you ten minutes to get in there and get her out. After that, I’m going to start killing people.”

  “You won’t do it,” Waverly said. “It’s not who you are.”

  “I was ready to kill long before now. Remember Ted Hinson? I would have killed him if not for Tommy. This guy sitting here? He was going to throw me in jail for protecting you. What do you think he matters to me?”

  “Maybe he dies, but not the people inside the hospital. You wouldn’t do that.”

  Christian looked slightly down and to his left, as if a child had spoken to him. He chuckled, and then brought his eyes back up. “Go get her, Waverly. There’s no need to talk about this. If you don’t believe me, then wait longer than ten minutes and you’ll see what I’ll do.”

  Christian let Waverly step out of the truck before shutting the door again.

  He didn’t want to remain in the back, but he couldn’t follow Waverly out. He was losing his focus again. It came and went on its own; he could no longer control it. When he was in the truck’s bed, though, not as many dead could fit inside. They had to climb aboard while the door was open, and Christian made sure to close it quickly each time.

  When he was driving, there was always someone riding with him … but now they lined the road. Thousands of them stood shoulder to shoulder while he drove along—as if he were some Roman Consulate and they his subjects.

  He had peered out at them last night, their faces white beneath the truck’s bright lights. They stared at him with black eyes, soulless and starving things.

  The Senator stared up at him now, though his eyes most definitely weren’t black. They shined blue, and instead of hunger, fear radiated from them.

  Christian looked down at his watch. Ten minutes. He had to focus on that. He had to remember that after ten minutes there were things to be done.

  You don’t have to do them, something said. Christian didn’t know if it was him or the dead child standing next to him. The words were little more than fireworks going off amongst the supernova exploding in his mind. There were too many thoughts, too many words, too many desires for that phrase to last longer than a single second.

  Christian turned from the Senator and went to the door. He pulled it open and hopped out, shutting it after.

  They were in the back of the parking lot. Few cars were here and no one patrolling. He looked like a lost mover if anything, waiting on someone to call him and tell him where to go.

  Of course, there could be problems when Veronica showed up, but Christian trusted Waverly to work them out. Waverly understood the stakes; Christian only hoped he understood Christian’s sincerity.

  “Freedom feels nice, doesn’t it?”

  The mouth spoke from across the mostly empty lot. The voice floated naturally to Christian’s ears … and even it was starting to feel pleasant.

  He didn’t know if he was free, but he knew that when he got to Luke, he finally would be. It would be a different freedom then he thought he’d achieved earlier, when he chased Luke down to Mexico, meeting him in that small church. That hadn’t been freedom, and now Christian understood it.

  Freedom was what Luke had.

  Freedom was what Luke would grant him.

  “And that’s the only thing that matters anymore,” the other said, appearing next to him.

  Christian looked down and found that their hands were locked. The blood running from the other’s fingers smeared across his own. They stood looking at the parking lot like brothers, waiting for either Waverly’s return or the ten minutes to run out.

  Waverly didn’t have a clue as to how he was going to make this work.

  His own watch said he had nine minutes left, which meant it took him a solid minute to get across the parking lot. It’d take another minute to get back, so he had eight in here. Even if he wanted to alert someone, he couldn’t do both that and get Veronica out. He had to pick, and he had to pick quickly.

  He wasn’t thinking about the psychological mumbo-jumbo Christian had spewed. Waverly had a simple choice—as most always were when you got right down to them. He either put Veronica in the truck, or a lot of innocent people died. That was it. He wasn’t worried about carrying around guilt for the rest of his life; regardless of what Christian said, he didn’t have time to stress over that.

  So, his first priority was getting Veronica out of here, and if he could leave a message while doing that, he would.

  “Hi,” he said, pulling his ID from his pocket as soon as he reached the check-in counter. A nurse sat behind it, and she looked up with a smile. “My name is Alan Waverly. I’m here to see Veronica Lopez.”

  “Okay, one second,” she said, looking down at the computer. Waverly glanced at his watch. Two minutes had passed. He didn’t have a weapon, so holding the place up wasn’t possible—though probably not advisable either. That certainly wouldn’t keep Christian from opening fire.

  “It’s your lucky day. She’s in ‘unscheduled time’ right now. I will tell you, it’s usually best to make appointments. Our patients spend a lot of time in therapy sessions, and as a rule, we don’t pull them out during those.”

  “I’m really sorry,” Waverly said. “I was just in the area and thought I’d stop by.”

  “Usually our patients spend their free time either in their rooms or in the common area. If you’ll just leave your ID with me, the common area is down the hall to your right.”

  Waverly placed the ID on the counter. “Thanks,” he said. He looked at his watch as he started walking. Three minutes down. He had six to get Veronica out the goddamn front door.

  He hadn’t thought to ask the woman where the hell Veronica’s room was in case she wasn’t in the common area, but he couldn’t turn around now. Asking more questions would make the woman look back at her computer, wasting yet more time. If Veronica wasn’t down here in the common room, then Christian might end up killing a lot of innocents.

  I’m going to need some help, God, Waverly prayed as he walked down the hallway. He didn’t remember the last time he’d done that, nor if he even believed in God. It came anyway, though, and hopefully something was up above to hear it.

  He reached the common area. There were about 20 people hanging out. Some sat around a television, though the TV didn’t resemble what Waverly had seen in movies. It was a newer model—a flat-screen mounted on the wall. He saw a few people reading books off to the side. A game of checkers.

  There was an orderly sitting by the wall. He had a book in his hand, one leg crossed over the other.

  Waverly still didn’t see Veronica, though.

  Fuck, he thought, sweat popping out across his palms. He didn’t have time to go back to the front desk, but he was thinking his damned bet had backfired.

  And as he was about to turn around, his only choice to ask the nurse how to get to the patient’s room, Veronica Lopez walked in.

  Both of their eyes caught each other at the same time. Waverly didn’t pause, though a single thought went through his head as he started toward her: it’s easy to see why he loved her.

  “Director Waverly?” she asked as he reached her.

  Waverly looked down at his watch. Five minutes left.

  “Why are you here?” Veronica asked.

  “I don’t have time to explain.” He looked in her eyes, hoping that some part of the woman who existed before Luke still lived. Waverly needed her to comprehend what he was saying, then act on it. “Can we sit down for a second?”

  And only a second. He didn’t want to be standing up when they had this conversation, as more eyes might fall on them. He didn’t wait for her to respond, but grabbed her elbow and simply walked to the nearest open chairs.

  Veronica said nothing as he tugged her along, and he didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign.

  He sat, and she stood for a second longer, but then did the same in the chair next to his.


  “I need you to listen carefully, okay?” he asked, paying careful attention to what sat behind her eyes. He didn’t think this was the same woman he’d seen in Christian’s hotel room, the one staring at the wall—but he couldn’t be sure in such a short time period.

  “Okay.”

  “We have to leave this place, and now. If we don’t, people are going to die. People sitting right in this room.”

  Veronica swallowed and her right hand started shaking. She brought it to her lip and nervously rubbed it on her front teeth. “It’s Christian ,isn’t it?”

  Waverly was a bit shocked, thinking she would have mentioned Luke first, but he only nodded. He glanced at his watch. “We’ve got two minutes to reach the parking lot.”

  Her finger rubbed her teeth faster and he knew she was deciding what to do. It only took a second, though, and then she stood. “Come on.”

  They walked down the hallway Veronica had emerged from. “Where are we going?”

  “You want to try walking out the front door?”

  Waverly said nothing. They turned down one hallway and then she opened a door.

  “The window. You’ll have to break it.”

  “Christ Jesus.” His watch said they only had a minute fifteen left. He went to the bed and grabbed a pillow. “Listen. Get a pen and write down ‘Christian Windsor. Call police.’, okay?”

  He didn’t wait, but moved across the room, placing the thin pillow against his elbow. The window was located low in the wall and large enough for them to climb through; there didn’t appear to be bars or other obstacles on the outside. Maybe this was the minimum security wing—Waverly didn’t know, nor have time to ask.

  He slammed his pillow covered elbow into the glass. It shattered, sounding out through the room. Waverly didn’t slow at all, just smashed the rest of the window out, clearing any glass he could see.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  Veronica was already moving and Waverly said a silent prayer for it. Veronica went to the window, looking at it for only a second to check for any errant glass that could cut her. When she saw none, she placed one leg through the window, then hopped outside.

  Waverly followed, looking down at his watch as he did.

  They had less than a minute, but as he looked around him, he realized his mistake. He saw trees and grass, not asphalt and cars.

  “Where’s the parking lot?” he whispered harshly.

  “I don’t know,” Veronica said.

  Christian looked at his watch.

  How long had he given Waverly? Time came and went like the wind now, uncontrollable, and only sometimes predictable. It was tough for him to remember exactly what he’d said, but he knew the minutes had to be ticking down.

  “What do I do?” he said.

  “When my wives disobeyed me, I taught them a lesson,” Hinson said. They both sat in the truck’s cab. Hinson hadn’t been there a second ago, but he was now, and smoking a cigarette—the smoke trailing upward toward the black hole in his head. “You have to teach Waverly a lesson. You have to teach them all a lesson.”

  “Just make sure you kill Waverly and Veronica,” Tommy said.

  He was outside the truck, his voice somewhat muffled by the glass.

  “We won’t get to Luke if you don’t. He won’t let us come unless they’re dead or with us.”

  “Maybe he’s right,” Hinson continued. “I don’t know. I don’t really care about Luke and all that. I only know you need to teach them a lesson for not listening to you.”

  Christian nodded to both men. They both were right, in their own ways. He was coming to see that. All of these people were right; all of their guidance should be taken seriously.

  “Here,” Hinson said and handed him the pistol. “Go teach them their lesson.”

  Waverly was running. His right hand stretched behind him, holding onto Veronica as he pulled her along.

  He thought he was heading in the right direction, but he couldn’t be sure. The building felt larger now than when he’d been inside of it, and he was still praying—this time that he wouldn’t see any guards.

  Waverly made a left, hugging the building and finally spotted the parking lot.

  His eyes scanned, trying to find the truck.

  “Is that him?” Veronica said.

  Waverly knew who she was talking about. A solitary man about 200 yards away, walking from the truck’s direction. He wasn’t at the first cluster of vehicles yet, but he was getting close, and he held something in his hand.

  “Come on,” Waverly said. They ran again, passing by cars without even a sideways glance. All that mattered was getting to Christian before he reached the building. Waverly didn’t want to consider what had probably happened back at the truck, that the Senator’s brains were most likely dripping down its walls.

  He waited until they were within 50 feet of Christian before shouting, still knowing that bringing attention to them now would be disastrous—someone would die.

  “Christian!”

  He had been looking at the ground, walking with the pistol facing the pavement. He stopped and looked up. Waverly and Veronica were still running toward him. Christian’s eyes focused and Waverly saw recognition in his face, and with it, anger.

  Christian raised the pistol.

  The two stopped running, standing ten feet from him.

  “We made it,” Waverly said, trying to keep his voice low. He didn’t know if they actually were on time. He didn’t know what was happening in the hospital behind him, nor who might be looking at the parking lot. He didn’t know if being seen was good or bad, whether it would save or end more lives. He only knew that the person in front of him was pointing a weapon at his face. “We made it in time.”

  Christian’s head shook back and forth in short, quick jerks. It wasn’t clear if he controlled them, saying no to Waverly’s assertion, or if they were beyond him.

  “Christian, put the gun down, okay? Put it down and let’s go,” Waverly said.

  Still the jerks. His eyes went to Veronica.

  “She came, on her own. I didn’t force her. She’s here, just like you wanted.”

  Veronica stepped forward. Waverly nearly reached out to grab her, but remained still.

  He watched as she went to him, closing the gap between the two of them. She put her hand over the gun’s barrel but didn’t move it. “Luke wants us back, doesn’t he?”

  Waverly watched, seeing something different about her. It wasn’t the way she walked, or the cadence she spoke with, but … This is it. This is what Luke did to her. She hears his name and is ready to give whatever he wants.

  Christian nodded.

  “Then let’s go to him.”

  Christian was quiet; his eyes welled with tears but he didn’t lower the gun.

  “You don’t want to kill us here, and Luke doesn’t want you to do it now, either. You can put the gun down and we can go to him. Then we can do what he wants us to do, okay?”

  Christian nodded, only once. He broke eye contact and looked to his right, as if someone was standing directly beside him. He nodded again then turned his head back to Veronica. “Go. Get in the back of the truck. Now.”

  Chapter 26

  Veronica’s hands and feet were bound, just like the two men. She knew Waverly of course, and although the other person looked familiar, she was having a tough time placing his face. He had something to do with Christian, that much she knew for sure, but she couldn’t remember exactly what.

  The truck bumped along whatever road Christian had chosen.

  “Why didn’t he gag us?” Veronica asked. The other man still had tape wrapped around his head, though both she and Waverly were free to speak.

  “I suppose because we know he’ll kill innocents, and that keeps us quiet. The Senator here doesn’t know that, or doesn’t care. I’m not sure which.”

  Veronica looked over to the stranger, a memory—though hazy—coming back to her. A hotel room. Christian hadn’t been there, though sh
e had still been able to smell him in the room. She had watched the TV, and …

  Senator.

  … This man had been on it.

  “I can almost remember him,” she said. She wasn’t talking to anyone in particular, perhaps only saying it to herself.

  “He’s the one trying to imprison Christian,” Waverly said. “Or, he was, I guess. Now he’s just trying to stay alive like the rest of us.”

  “Perjury, right?” she asked. “That’s what Christian ended up getting in trouble for? Because he lied for you?”

  “That’s right.”

  The three were quiet for a few minutes. Veronica quit staring at the Senator, quit thinking about him entirely. Her mind wasn’t blank as it had been before the hospital, but she still found it hard to control her thoughts. They often moved like smoke in the sky, dictated by something other than the fire which created it below.

  “This is going to sound stupid,” Waverly said, “given what’s happening, but how are you?”

  She looked up. It was a question she heard often from the doctors at the hospital.

  The hospital.

  She chuckled silently as she thought about what they had done. “You showed up and I just left.”

  “Huh?” Waverly asked.

  Veronica realized what she was doing. Lost in her head and speaking her thoughts without prepping anyone. Her doctor said that it would get better before it got worse. Luke’s programming had started receding, but her own personality wasn’t strong enough to take full command. That’s what the doctor said, at least. “Sorry. Just the hospital. I started thinking about that. You just came in there and then I left with you. I didn’t think I would ever leave. It’s sort of funny.”

  “I’m sorry. There wasn’t much choice,” Waverly said. He paused a moment and then added, “Were you able to leave the note? Did you write down Christian’s name?”

  The Senator’s head snapped up at that, his eyes wide. Veronica looked at him for a second, thinking his face was like some burrowing animal that had stuck his head above ground and seen a morsel of food. She smiled. He looked hungry.

 

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