The Prophecies Trilogy (Omnibus Edition): A Dystopian Adventure

by Linda Hawley

  I believed him.

  “Thank you,” I said through my stream of tears. “Hug them for me and give them my love.”

  “I will,” he said, removing his hands and stepping into the hall.

  “Lulu, keep them safe,” I said quietly. Her ears perked up at my last words to her, as though she understood them.

  * * *

  Later that morning, Doctor Dreyfus returned to the safe house.

  “What a pleasant surprise. It’s so good to see you,” I said, kissing him on both cheeks as we stood in the foyer.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Ma chère. I couldn’t stay away from my favorite patient, now could I?”

  Smiling, I looped my arm through his and led him into the living room. I was fond of the doctor who’d saved my life.

  As we sat facing one another on the couch, he said, “You look very well. How are you feeling?”

  “I almost feel like my old self again—with my new nose, of course,” I said playfully.

  “The hyperosmia has not returned?”

  “No. My sense of smell appears to be normal. I’m beginning to adapt.”

  “With time, the memory of your super-smell will fade into the background,” he said to reassure me. “What about headaches?”

  “None.”

  “Any blurriness with your vision?”

  “None.”

  “Follow my finger with your eyes. Don’t move your head.”

  I obeyed as he tested my vision.

  “Any discomfort in your eyes?”

  “None.”

  “Good. Let me feel around the back of your head, where the brain shunt was.”

  I nodded.

  “Does it hurt when I push on this area?”

  “No.”

  “That’s good. You seem to be in good health,” he announced. “Do you have any complaints that you wish to discuss with me?”

  “I’m well enough.”

  “How are you adjusting to living here?”

  “Sometimes I think about how much I miss my daughter, but I try not to dwell on that. My companions here treat me well, and they’ve combat-trained me, which has restored my confidence since Barcelona. I’ve enjoyed the sparring, and my stamina is much improved.”

  “Aha. Yes. The members here are very skilled. Françoise is a lethal force in hand-to-hand combat, and she’s legendary among the French GOG.”

  “She’s certainly talented. I’m happy to call her my friend. It’s been good for me to form a bond with another woman. I hope we’ll be close for a long time to come,” I said, smiling at him. “Are you able to stay for a while, perhaps to have dinner with us?”

  “Françoise is a superior chef. I will be delighted to stay,” he said with a wide smile, his wild hair moving as he nodded.

  Chapter 21

  The next day, I couldn’t shake a haunted feeling—something was dogging me, but I couldn't work out what it was. I paced my room, then went downstairs and paced the living room. Then I moved to the dining room and sat in a chair. Chow, observing me, asked what was wrong. I gazed out the window without answering him.

  “I think I’ll take a walk through the garden,” I said, standing.

  “Okay,” he said, following me.

  “Chow, I love you like a brother, but I want to walk alone.”

  “I will just stay back and keep an eye on you.”

  “Chow, I’ll be in the backyard. I’m not going to sneak into town and get myself into some trouble,” I said, staring him down.

  “Jean-Pierre wanted someone to be with you at all times,” he said in warning. “For protection.”

  “I’m just gonna walk around the backyard,” I said, annoyed. “I’m not a child.” I put my hand on his arm and said, “No, Chow,” firmly. “Sometimes a girl just needs a few minutes of privacy.”

  Chow stared me down. “How long will you be in the garden?”

  “I haven’t had a moment alone since I left Bellingham months ago,” I began. “I’m gonna take my time, and I don’t want to have to look at my watch to make sure I’m staying within some Chow-imposed time-limit,” I said, raising my voice in irritation as I opened the back door.

  “I get it,” he said, giving in. “Enjoy your stroll,” he said, trying to soften my vexation.

  “Thank you,” I said, my words clipped as I passed through the threshold into the freedom of nature.

  It was early evening, not long before sunset. The roses’ fragrance was palpable, even with my lessened sense of smell. The garden was a little over an acre in size, enough room to avoid Chow’s prowling eyes. Eager to move on, I followed the path heading to the rear of the garden.

  “I’m with these guys all the time. All I need is some privacy,” I exclaimed, venting my irritation as I walked. I thought about the months that had passed—a full month in the hospital healing…another month continuing to recuperate here. I miss Elinor and Aunt Saundra. I miss my home.

  Continuing on, I allowed the melancholy of my homelessness to wash over me. I was moving towards a bench seat in the farthest part of the garden when I heard a click off to my right.

  Just as my head turned towards the noise, two probes shot out, and barbs attached themselves to my shoulder and back. The electricity sent a million knives shooting through my body, throwing me to the ground in a heap. My body was involuntarily contracting, and my mouth opened to scream, but only silence escaped my lips. I tried to keep my eyes open to identify my assailant, but I had no control over them. I could feel my system overloading but was helpless to change a thing. The darkness was a relief.

  * * *

  Lying on the ground on my back, I opened my eyes, quickly learning that I had no control over my muscles. Pain emanated from every cell in my body, and my brain was fuzzy. A metallic taste was present in my mouth, which made me have the urge to vomit, but I held it back.

  “Hi, Ann,” he said, a sneer swimming into view as he squatted down and put his face directly in front of mine.

  Blinking rapidly, I tried to comprehend what I was seeing.

  “I can see that you’re still dazed. That’s some Taser, don’t you think?” he said contemptuously.

  I blinked harder, trying to bring my mind to attention.

  “Wait a minute,” he exclaimed with a laugh. “I bet you’ve never been Tasered before today. You did go down like a sack of potatoes.” A scorn contorted his features—features I once considered handsome.

  Feeling my muscles starting to return and my head beginning to clear, I said the first thing that flooded my mind. “You’re alive.”

  My voice was hoarse.

  Paul snarled in disgust. “Through no help from you and your friend.”

  “How?” I asked, shock making my voice weak and numb.

  “I’m happy to explain my resurrection, Ann, but first…a warning,” he said, towering over me. “I’ve got two more Tasers right here,” he showed me. “They’re charged and ready for rounds two and three,” he said, holding up one, then the other.

  I cringed, swallowing the metallic taste of fear as it flowed through me. Oh Chow, I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you, I thought. I couldn’t call out for help, either, or else Paul would Taser me again.

  “I only wish your little mutt was here so I could zap it too,” he said with malice dripping from his words.

  With his threat, my fear began to lessen as rage took its place. “I hope you rot in hell,” I spat.

  “Don’t be so nasty. What’re you gonna say next? ‘The dog hasn’t done anything to hurt you,’” he said, whining in a high voice. “Oh, but she has, Ann. She has.” He snatched the collar of his shirt and pulled it down to expose a large, grotesque red scar.

  “She was defending me,” I said flatly, controlling my voice so I wouldn’t provoke him.

  He ignored me. “I’ll be honored to Taser you again, if for no other reason than zapping you for that nasty dog of yours. It was so fun watching you twitch like a fish the first time,” he said with
a sardonic smile.

  I responded with silence, grateful that Lulu was safe with Jean-Pierre and Aimée.

  Chapter 22

  “May I ask how you’re alive?” I said as I gasped for air, stalling for time while my body recovered from the electric shock. I decided that I had to placate my torturer in order to live through this.

  “Now you’re submissive?” he railed against me. “I’ll be taking advantage of that later.”

  Inside of me, I recoiled from his innuendo, but I did my best not to betray the disgust I felt.

  “I can’t believe I was your boyfriend all that time and never took what was rightfully mine!” he raged.

  Come on, Ann, stay focused on how to get out of this. Don’t let him bait you. Remember what Françoise taught you. I coached myself, refusing to be a victim of what he’d planned.

  I remained silent, looking into Paul’s eyes. None of the warmth I once felt was present.

  “You want to know how I’m alive? I’ll tell you how,” he said, agitated. “The night you and your friend tortured me, there was a clandestine operative who had my back. His name was Brock Pressentin,” he said, waiting for a reaction from me.

  I gave him none. Joe and I had learned while interrogating Paul that Brock was a government operative.

  I guess he doesn’t remember what he told us that night.

  “I see you’re not surprised,” he huffed, then continued with his story, eager to tell me for some reason. “We’d prearranged regular check-in times by phone, and when I missed one of them, he came to your house. With my BMW at the curb and the lights off inside your house, he suspected a problem. He came round the back of the house and broke in, where he found me lying unconscious in a bloody mess on your living room carpet. I remember waking up—that’s something I won’t forget anytime soon, because he plunged a syringe of adrenaline into my heart. Into my heart, Ann! Do you know how that felt?” he snarled.

  I shook my head demurely to try to diffuse his rising agitation, as Françoise had taught me. It was a struggle to focus on her training instructions, instead of surrendering to the panic and fear that was threatening to overwhelm me.

  Paul continued. “Having adrenaline injected directly into my heart felt like someone had thrown me into a deep freezer. I was so cold,” he said, accompanied by an involuntary shiver.

  It seemed that he was looking for compassion from me, which I found ironic, considering that he’d tried to choke me to death.

  “At the same time I felt cold, my heart began to race unlike anything I’d ever felt. Brock got me on my feet and out of the house and put me in the back seat of his car, which—by the way—was parked a half block from your house. Do you know how hard it was to walk all that way after you and your friend had tortured me in Bellingham?”

  Shaking my head, I broke eye contact with him. That was a mistake, because the next thing I knew, he had a second Taser out and ready to fire.

  “Pay attention!” he seethed through his clenched teeth.

  I looked into his eyes again. “I’m sorry,” I said, trying to appease him.

  He coldly stared me down. “You will be sorry…as soon as I finish my little story,” he said, dark lust lacing through his words and making his eyes gleam. “Oh, and I’ve thoroughly searched you and know that you don’t have a single weapon to defend yourself,” he said, laughing.

  For the first time, a seed of hope was born inside me.

  I can fight him.

  “After Brock put me in his car, he went back to your house to gather evidence to implicate you. I assume he was looking for Sinéad. The next thing I knew, the house blew up with him inside.”

  I sucked in a breath, shocked that Brock was killed in the blast instead of Paul.

  “I’m glad to see that you’re surprised by that little tidbit,” he said, amused. “I know you hated him. He was an idiot. I was glad to see him take my place. After the explosion, I managed to get myself into the driver’s seat and escape using his car. After that, I disappeared. When I recovered from the torture, I began searching for you.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “Dreyfus may be a brain surgeon, but he’s also a complete idiot,” he said, laughing. “I learned from a contact in Barcelona that you were flown to France, and after some searching, I found what hospital you were in. A few weeks ago, I identified Dreyfus as your surgeon. That’s when I flew to France. It was only a matter of time before he led me to you. The idiot had new traceable bank notes in his wallet. Tracking him here was easy, and voilà! Here you are,” he said, pausing for effect. “I’ve been waiting outside the safe house since Dreyfus arrived. When he left, I cut his throat for bringing you back to life,” he said with a self-satisfied grin.

  You psycho! I screamed in my head.

  * * *

  As I lay on my back, I slowly moved my knees up until my shoes were touching my thighs. Paul raised a Taser up as a warning against my movement, then pulled what looked to be a seven-inch combat knife with a Tanto blade from a belt sheath.

  He’s trying to scare me.

  Françoise’s words flooded back to me: “The Tanto blade has two separate edges, which are designed to pierce flesh.”

  “After I slice and dice you…in just a few minutes…” He paused, holding the weapon out in front of him so that I could get a good look. “I’ll send a signal to the agents who have this compound surrounded. No one inside will go free. As a matter of fact, I think I’ll join in on the fun of torturing your little friends inside. They’ll never know what hit them.”

  Focus, Ann.

  “After our little romp, and the enjoyment of gutting you, I’ll be a hero to the entire American government by killing the great Ann Torgeson. Oh yeah, today’s going to be a good day,” he bragged.

  Knowing that Chow would not be rescuing me after my words begging him for privacy, I hyperfocused my mind on an escape plan.

  “What?” he said, putting his hand to his ear. “No reply? Ann, you disappoint me. This submissive thing you’ve got going on doesn’t suit you.” His eyes squinted, and his mouth took on a devious twist. “Let’s see if I can get you to fight back,” he said, moving toward me with a live Taser in his right hand, lifted to deter me from fighting him off.

  Come a little closer.

  Closer, I thought, silently begging him to me.

  Finally he was standing over me, and he began to bend his knees, lowering himself. As he did so, I pushed the manufacturer’s label on the back of my boot, and the titanium Damascus blade ejected from its hidden sheath.

  Chapter 23

  With a practiced motion, I smoothly inserted my index and middle fingers into the hilt of the blade. When he was within arm’s length, I deftly raised my arm and pushed the weapon into Paul’s gut, just below his navel. Since he was lowering himself onto me, his direction of motion only aided the penetration of the blade far into his flesh.

  In a rush of adrenaline, I pulled the weapon up with both hands in one skillful movement, exerting as much force as I was capable of, while twisting my body to avoid the live Taser. The result was a rush of blood toward me that spurted from the gaping wound running from his naval to his sternum.

  The look of surprise on his face was comical, part agony and part pleasure. As the blood poured out of him and onto me, the live Taser slipped onto the ground just beside me, and I reached over and pulled out the arming pin.

  Unspoken words blazed through his surprised eyes, seeming to ask, “Why?”

  I answered with a cold, silent heart, maintaining acute eye contact with him as I heard the air escape directly from his chest. Remembering his words threatening Lulu, I twisted the blade buried inside him to pierce and wound as many of his vital organs as I could. I never wanted to see him rise again. His intestines popped out and brushed my shirt. Unable to hold himself up with the lifeblood draining from him and onto me, he fell, covering me.

  Moving my hand to his neck, I stilled myself as I felt for his carotid art
ery.

  Nothing.

  I tried to shove him away as I pulled myself in the opposite direction. Adrenaline fueled my strength. In a few tries, I was free. He lay beside me on his back, his open eyes glazing over as death claimed him.

  I jumped to my feet. “Betcha didn’t think I could do that!” I yelled at his lifeless form beneath me. “That’s for Lulu and me,” I spewed.

  It took some pulling and twisting to get my heel blade from his chest, but when it finally freed, I wiped his blood off on the bottom of his pants, reinserted the weapon into my boot, and then took off at a full run toward the house, to save my friends from the agents who hid in stealth outside.

  Chapter 24

  Halfway to the house, I rounded a corner of the garden, smacking into Chow running my way. He looked at my body covered with blood, and alarm erupted from his face.

  “It’s not mine!” I yelled. “We have to get inside. We’re surrounded by agents,” I warned, tugging fiercely on his arm.

  Chow’s face turned to stone. He swiftly turned back towards the house, and we sprinted side by side to safety. I was trying to calculate how we could get out of this alive, and I was sure Chow was too. It only took us about ten seconds to reach the back door. There was no need to open it, since Edwin stood there, alarmed, with Philippe and Françoise just beside him.

  “It’s not my blood,” I said abruptly, in answer to their startled stares. “I’m not hurt.”

  Edwin immediately closed and locked the door behind us, then turned to me, attentive.

  “The house is surrounded by agents. They intend to capture, interrogate, and then kill us. The one I killed out back told me that he’d signal the other agents once he killed me. We’ve probably only got a couple of minutes,” I said quickly. “Now what’s our plan?”

  Françoise turned to Philippe immediately. “The chute. It’s the only way,” she said.