“What happened to Wayne?”
Darren looked over at Gabe, the two sharing a long look before Gabe muttered “Fuck” and pounded his fist down on the armrest of the chair. Darren looked back to Billie, frowning as he said, “He was fine the first day and a half after we went UA. Then he started getting twitchy—every little sound made him jump. He’d check the doors and windows two, sometimes three times a night. Started sleeping with his gun cocked and ready in his hand—I stopped sleeping in the loft because he damn near took my head off the other day as I was coming down to breakfast.”
“And today?” Gabe prompted.
Darren’s eyes closed on a sigh, and for a moment Billie worried he’d lost consciousness. But before she could call out his name, he opened them again, staring into the distance as he recalled the events of that morning. He told them that Wayne had woken him with screams of fear, his manic state turning on a dime into anger. He’d begun trashing the cabin, tossing the furniture about as he raged incoherently. Darren had tried to calm him down, swearing that Gabe would come for them and he’d bring Billie along with him.
But Wayne wouldn’t listen. He claimed that Gabe hadn’t come because he was dead like Eddie, and that Billie had abandoned them a long time ago. It had hurt to hear those words even though she knew her friend and former leader hadn’t meant a thing he said, that it was the psychosis talking and not Wayne. Darren then said that as Wayne was marching out the door, he’d made the mistake of putting his hand on his shoulder in an attempt to make him stay.
“That’s when we got into a fight and he put my head through that window,” Darren said. “We wrestled around a bit, then at one point I got thrown up against the wall by the microwave, and before I knew it he’d pulled his gun out of nowhere and shot me. Then he took off. I went into the bathroom to try and take care of myself, but I guess I was already in shock because I passed out.”
“Wayne wasn’t in his right mind, Spin—you know that, right?” Gabe said. “He wasn’t trying to kill you. The Professor is still in there somewhere.”
“How do you know that?” John asked.
Billie looked over her shoulder at him. “If Wayne really wanted to kill Darren, he’d have shot him in the head.”
FIFTEEN
Exhausted after telling his story, Darren passed out again.
Billie figured it was better for him. Now that he wasn’t losing blood, he would need the rest in order to recuperate and regain what he’d lost.
“We have to find Wayne,” Gabe said. “He’d never be able to live with himself if he hurt an innocent, even though the condition he’s in is not his fault.”
“He made a choice, Gabe,” Billie said, then turned her head to look at him. “You all made a conscious decision to take those injections.”
Gabe’s face darkened. “This is not Wayne’s fault,” he growled. “He did what he thought was best, so that he could better provide for his children. If anyone is at fault for this goat fuck, it’s that bastard Wainright. He fucking lied to us, Billie! He knew what IQ-56 would do to us and he fucking gave it to us anyway!”
“You don’t know that for sure,” John interjected. “That’s only speculation on our part.”
Gabe shot to his feet. “You stay the fuck out of this, Courtney! This doesn’t even concern you!”
Billie felt John bristle beside her. “The fact that I’m standing here says otherwise, Maj. Lincoln,” he said, surprising her with the evenness of his tone.
“The only reason you’re here is because you’re hoping to get your dick wet,” Gabe retorted contemptuously. “Well I’ve got news for you, pal—our girl Billie’s too busy fucking a ghost to spread her legs for anyone with an actual heartbeat.”
Shock coursed through her at the harsh words, turning her blood to ice. She felt utterly unable to move, so stunned was she by Gabe’s insulting tirade. She barely noted John yelling at him about what a son of a bitch he was; was too numb to hear Gabe’s sputtered apology. She only felt hurt and cold…and then all of a sudden the ice melted. In seconds her blood was boiling, the hurt replaced with anger that grew hotter with each breath she took.
Abruptly she stood, putting herself between the two men and effectively ending the shouting that was apparently not loud enough to wake Darren a second time.
“Billie, I am so sorry,” Gabe repeated pleadingly. “I swear to God, I don’t know why I said that.”
She turned to her friend of ten years, a man she had called brother, and for a moment felt as though she didn’t know him at all. How could anyone who claimed to love her say such an ugly thing about her?
Before she knew it, Billie was drawing her arm back and throwing a fist into his face. Gabe staggered backward, raising a hand to his now-bleeding lip as he regarded her, shame and self-loathing in his expression. He knew he’d deserved the punch and appeared to be expecting another—and she was only too happy to oblige. Stepping forward, she pulled her arm back to take a second swing but John caught her by the wrist, saying, “Billie, don’t—the jerk isn’t worth it.”
She turned her angry gaze in his direction as she yanked free of his grasp. Wisely, John let her go and took a step back.
“I’m going to look for Wayne,” she told them, turning on her heel and marching for the door.
“Billie, I don’t think you should try facing Wayne alone, not in the condition he’s in,” Gabe called out to her. “I’ve seen what this shit does to a man—”
She whirled on him and pulled one of her guns in a single fluid motion, a smile of sadistic satisfaction crossing her face as a brief look of fear came to his eyes. “An asshole is hardly in a position to give advice, don’t you think? I’m a United States Marine, Gabriel, and a former operations officer of the CIA—in some circles I’m considered the deadliest woman in the world. I think that qualifies me to handle a fellow Marine on a bad acid trip.”
With that she turned again and walked out. It was not lost on her that one of the men were following, but she paid whoever it was no attention. She only knew she had to get the hell away from there before she was tempted to actually pull the trigger.
Her shadow stopped briefly at the car, then jogged to catch up. She sensed it was John, who for a long moment remained silent. “You know Col. Scofield well,” he said at last. “Where do you think he’d go from here?”
Billie drew a breath to fire off a scathing retort but stopped herself. John hadn’t done anything wrong, and so didn’t deserve to have her anger at Gabe taken out on him. Releasing the breath in a huff, she said tersely, “Wayne would want cover, but being in unfamiliar territory, he’d want to remain out in the open with multiple avenues of escape.”
“He’s hiding in plain sight, then,” John observed.
“Precisely,” she replied, stopping when she realized she had guided them back to the central complex of the lodge grounds. The management office was to her right, and a few other cabins could be seen off in the distance from where they stood. If they continued forward on a path just slightly to the right, they would get to the Hideout cottage she had shared with Travis on that weekend that now seemed a lifetime ago. For a moment her breath caught and her heart squeezed painfully inside her chest. The weight of the past, full of love and hope and dreams, fell on top of her and the future she was now forced to live without him, and it nearly drove her to her knees. She missed him so much—how was she supposed to go on alone?
Don’t be a baby, Billie. You can stand on your own two feet.
Travis’s voice flitted across her mind, and she remembered when he’d said those words to her. During an op in Japan early in her tenure with the CIA, she’d fallen two stories and suffered a spinal injury. The doctors said she would make a full recovery, but it was going to take time…and a lot of effort on her part. She would have to “remember” how to walk again. Travis had only recently begun his pursuit of her, and had decided to pop into one of her physical therapy sessions uninvited. That particular day, he’d found her
sweaty, exhausted, irritable, and feeling way too sorry for herself. Despite being less than pleased to see him, she’d asked for his help in getting her “the hell away from this fucking drill sergeant.”
Travis had taken one look at her, crossed his arms over his chest, and told her in no uncertain terms to get off her ass on her own.
No wonder nearly a year went by before I decided to give him a chance, she recalled with a smile.
Then she realized she was smiling and nearly laughed out loud. It was the first time a memory of her past with Travis had made her smile, and by God it felt so fucking good to remember him with pleasure instead of pain. And then she remembered why she was here in this place where they’d been so happy: She had friends in trouble that needed her, which meant there wasn’t time to walk the boulevard of broken dreams.
Time to cowgirl up, She-Devil, she chastised herself.
Billie took a deep breath, turning to find John watching her with a concerned expression. He was something else she had to work out, but it would have to wait for later—it was time to find her friend and bring him home.
“Let’s go this way,” she said, and headed off.
Their search of the grounds near the center of the lodge turned up nothing. Then it occurred to Billie that the well-traversed Grandma Gaitwood Trail was nearby, along with the lodge’s namesake, Old Man’s Cave. There was also Old Man’s Creek and the half-mile long gorge it had carved into the Blackhand sandstone along the trail. The area was rife with suitable hiding places, and Wayne would be able to conceal himself from discovery no matter what state of mind he was in. Given Darren’s account of the last few days, his fight or flight response had definitely been locked into flight mode.
It made her sad that such a strong individual was running away from a danger that existed only in his mind, same as Eddie had tried to do. But unlike Wildchild, she intended to see that Wayne did not pay the ultimate price for his sins.
They hiked along the trail in silence, both searching the trees for any sign of their quarry. Reaching Upper Falls, they walked into the large recess cave named for the hermit Richard Rowe. Other hikers were also looking around the cave, leading Billie to believe that Wayne, had he been here at all, was long gone. The part of him that had prevented that bullet from killing Darren wouldn’t want to be around people, and was likely what had led him to flee in the first place.
Leaving Old Man’s Cave, they continued to hike along the trail down through the Upper Gorge. When they reached Middle Falls, John pointed out the overhang across the creek. “Looks to be enough space under there that a person could hide in,” he said.
“Wayne could be staring at us right now and we wouldn’t even know it, Spy Boy,” she retorted.
John snorted. “That’s reassuring,” he quipped sardonically.
Stepping carefully, they made their way across the creek. Billie tried not to get her shoes too wet, but it was no use—the rushing water easily sloshed over her ankles, soaking not only her socks and shoes but the hems of her pants legs. John was making his way across behind her, and she had just reached the other side when a wild cry rang out, followed by a loud grunt and a splash. Spinning around, she saw a black-clad, mud-coated Wayne wrestling with John in the middle of the creek.
“Billie, run!” Wayne screamed over his shoulder, before looking back down at John and yelling, “I won’t let you kill her too!”
“Wayne!” Billie cried. “Let him go!”
“Not…trying…to kill…” John gasped as he fought desperately to pry Wayne’s hands from around his throat.
She couldn’t just stand there and let John be strangled. Taking off at a run, she launched herself at Wayne’s back, colliding with him hard enough to send them both flying over John’s head. Billie had only time enough to register his taking a ragged lungful of air before a fist connected with her face, causing stars to explode behind her eyelids.
“Traitor!” Wayne screamed, swinging at her again. Billie rolled out of the way just in time and shook her head to clear it. “I remember you—you left us! You abandoned us! Where were you when we fucking needed you?!”
“Wayne, I’m sorry!” she replied, getting slowly to her feet. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here. You know I would have helped you in any way I could.”
“Well it’s too fucking late for that—now you’re one of them!” Wayne raged. He then charged at her, clearly with the intent to bowl her over. Billie met him halfway, slipping under his arm and grabbing hold of it as she did so. She twisted the arm as she turned her body, bringing it up in an arm lock at his back and throwing her other arm around his neck.
“Wayne, I am not your enemy,” she said. “Stand down, Marine!”
His response was to bring his free arm back, slamming his elbow into her ribcage. Billie growled in pain but held tight, pushing his arm higher. He had to be hurting, she thought, but he acted as though he weren’t feeling a thing. Wayne jabbed her with his elbow again, and when she still did not release him, he suddenly dropped to one knee, throwing her off balance enough that he was able to grab hold of her with his free hand and drag her over his back. Billie landed on the ground with a hard thud, her breath expelling in a whoosh. As she opened her mouth to draw in air, Wayne brought his fist down into her stomach, hard, then wrapped both hands around her throat and squeezed.
Billie choked and sputtered as she fought to catch her breath. Looking up, she saw that her friend’s family jewels were right above her head, and while she hated having to do it, she nevertheless reached to take his privates in hand, giving them a sharp twist. Wayne howled and his grip loosened a fraction. Though darkness was beginning to tint the edges of her vision, Billie managed to roll up onto her shoulders, bringing her legs into position to scissor his head between her thighs. She squeezed hard, increasing the pressure little by little as his face began to darken. Using what strength she had left, she threw herself sideways and he finally released her as he dropped to the ground, his hands going to protect his injured manhood. Billie rolled to her side, gasping for air, as John made his way over to them. An object in his hand glinted in the sunlight, and for a moment she thought he’d brought a knife.
She and Wayne each rose to their knees at the same time. He hadn’t seen John coming, his murderous focus was solely for her, and so he was unable to react in time to block John’s punch to his jaw, knocking him back to the ground again. John then reached down to flip Wayne over, dropping to plant a knee in between his shoulders as he pulled his arms behind his back. And then Billie heard the distinct metallic snick of a stainless steel bracelet being latched together, followed by another.
She coughed as she stood on shaky legs. “Handcuffs?” she said, still feeling a little breathless.
John nodded as he looked up at her. “I grabbed them out of my bag in the car. Figured if he was as jacked as Darren said, we might need ‘em.”
“Thanks for letting me handle that,” Billie said as she rubbed her sore throat. “Though I probably could have used your help there at the end…”
He grinned. “I thought you had the situation well in hand,” he quipped, then his expression turned serious. “In truth, I thought you’d want it to go down this way—though I admit to being a little concerned when he had his hands around your neck, and if you hadn’t taken him down when you did, I would have stepped in.”
“Thank you, John,” she said sincerely. Then she saw that Wayne was no longer struggling and said, “All right, let’s get him up.” Billie stepped closer as John rose, pulling Wayne up and onto his knees. She stood in front of her former team leader and looked into his eyes. His gaze was wild, frightened, and angry. He almost looked as if he hated her and was desperate for her help in equal measure.
Desperation apparently won out, as he seemed to melt, sinking down to sit on his feet with a sob. “Make it stop,” he cried. “Billie, please… Make it stop.”
Billie dropped to her knees, taking his head in her hands and forcing him to look at h
er. “Wayne, look at me. I’m here, do you see? I’m really here. I know I was gone for a while, stuck inside my own personal hell, and for that I am so, so sorry.”
“Then you know! You know what it’s like to fight the demons!” he said, his tone bordering on manic. “They get inside your head, and they fuck with your mind. They keep taking my kids, Billie. I can’t let them have my kids. I have to stop them!”
Her heart was breaking, seeing his suffering. He really didn’t seem to understand that his children weren’t in any danger. Was that where he’d thought he was going, back to the kids? To save them from perceived harm?
“Will and Jenna are safe, Wayne, I promise you,” she assured him.
Wayne blinked rapidly. Then he started to struggle, pulling at the handcuffs. “Let me out! You have to let me out! My babies need me, they’re going to die!”
John clamped his hand on Wayne’s shoulder to keep him on his knees as Billie hung onto his head, pleading with him to calm down. “Hey!” she shouted. “The demons are not real! It’s the drug, Wayne. It’s IQ-56—that shit’s addled your brain so you can’t think straight.”
His breath coming in shallow gasps, he asked her, “Are you sure? No one’s going to hurt the kids?”
“Your children will get hurt over my dead body,” Billie said resolutely. “Now listen to me. You agreed to participate in an experiment, Wayne. Do you remember? General Sterling Wainright recruited you and the guys to test a serum called IQ-56. It was supposed to make you stronger, faster, and smarter. Do you remember?”
Two Evils Page 22
