The Preston Six Collection: (Book 1, 2 and 3)

by Ryan, Matt

Max lowered his fist and relaxed his hands. If Marcus hadn’t banned hitting the employee’s, he would have walloped Jeffery. The stupid man’s cowardly face made him clinch his fist again.

  “If a plane goes missing,” Max spoke slowly. “You go straight to level eight and get me.”

  Jeffery’s face paled and Max took in a deep breath, clinching his fists at his side. He yanked the device from Jeffery and surveyed the first screen. Sliding his finger across the screen, he turned the page. It was the craft he sent to Mutant Isle, in the slim chance Harris lived through the missile. The fact this particular ship went missing, sent chills over his body. Could his brother have done it?

  He breathed fast as he read the report. He pressed the screen to bring up the ship’s last video footage. He squeezed the screen and it shook in his hands. A face stared back at him. The last picture sent from the cockpit was Harris switching off the cameras. Looking at his brother’s face on the screen, he snapped the screen into two pieces with his hands and let its glass and bits fall to the ground.

  Jeffery gave a whimper. Max closed his eyes and counted in his head, but with each number he thought of which bone he would break on Jeffery’s body. He got to ten and opened his eyes. Jeffery had taken several steps back.

  “That is all,” Max said.

  “Oh, thank you, thank you,” Jeffery said, stumbling backward out of Max’s office.

  Max put his hand on the wall next to an MM flag. He had to tell Marcus now. He buttoned the upper button on his shirt and smoothed out his black pants, patted his hair down and pulled his Panavice from his pocket. This kind of news was delicate to deal with.

  “Emmett, I need to speak to Marcus,” Max said staring at the Panavice.

  “No one speaks to Marcus,” Emmett responded.

  Max lowered the Panavice to his side and looked to the ceiling, mouthing unheard words. He took a deep breath and raised the Panavice to his mouth again. “May I speak with Marcus?”

  “We’re at the level seven training center,” Emmett said.

  Max slid the Panavice in his pocket and walked into the hallway. Level seven training center? He smiled. Marcus had made such a quick recovery.

  Stepping into the elevator, he pushed his thumb on the screen. His picture appeared. “Level seven training room.” The elevator didn’t move. Max rolled his eyes and thought about punching his stupid picture on the screen. “Level seven training room, please,” he said through gritted teeth. He knew this politeness stuff was coming from level four’s PR department. If he had the time he would give them a visit and be on his best behavior as he made them take all politeness protocols off of his ID.

  The elevator dinged and the doors slid open.

  The smell of men’s sweat filled the elevator as he stepped out into the training room. Each floor had training rooms, but at level seven, the room was huge and had only a few people typically in it. Which was good, kept out the scum and weak. In here, there were warriors.

  A group of men in white training uniforms surrounded Marcus. He wore his standard black suit with an X on his right chest and the double M logo on the other. Marcus was level ten, the only level ten. He had given himself that rank, but as anyone who went against him would certainly realize, he deserved it—and not just in brawn, but in every conceivable way. While Marcus thought the kids would create perfection, all he really needed to do was look into the mirror.

  As he walked closer to the exhibition, he saw the shock swords in their hands, they wouldn’t kill you, but hurt bad enough to make you leery of being struck. Marcus held a black shock sword and Max was sure it was of Marcus’s own design and much better than the seven’s in front of him. Quality of tech was distributed based on your level and Marcus kept the best for himself.

  Emmett stood back against the white wall, muscular arms crossed. Max nodded to him, but Emmett stared back with no response. Emmett had been running a lot of the company while Marcus was incapacitated, how did he feel about his master’s resurrection? His blank face never gave clues to the inner workings of that mind. Max turned his attention to Marcus and leaned his back against the wall, near Emmett. Max knew Marcus well enough to not disturb him in an exhibition.

  He pitied the five level sevens facing Marcus, forming a half circle around him. A slim man at the center of the level sevens said, “Now!”

  Max leaned off the wall and smiled at the full assault they planned against Marcus, it might actually be a good fight.

  The man in the center was a second faster than the other and swung his shock sword at Marcus. Marcus grinned, which was a wonderful thing to see again—he’d missed that smile. He moved just enough to miss the strike. The center man tried to throw an elbow into Marcus’s stomach, but Marcus lunged with a parry against the man to the far left, sending him to seizure on the floor. The remaining four swung their swords, Marcus countered, blocking some and moving his body to dodge the others.

  Max shook his head in amazement. He was rank eight and only been beaten by three men in existence and two of them were in the room with him. Max moved to his left, glowing with admiration, to get a better view of the four on one attack.

  They backed Marcus to a wall in a well-formed shield tactic. A level seven would typically kill a normal man with almost no effort, but the man they faced was anything but typical. He saw the frustration building in their faces as Marcus defended everything they brought.

  Marcus’s face showed no strain, no emotion at all, except for a tiny smile. They managed to back him into a corner and had him pinned. Max moved again, to see what would happen.

  Marcus hit back with a few rapid-fire hits that sent them a step back. With the space created, he jumped and kicked off the wall behind him. Doing a front flip over the man to the right, he shocked one seven in the head, sending him to the floor.

  Three left. The man in the center’s face burned red with rage and fatigue. His bright, long blond hair, clung to his face. Marcus sidestepped, keeping his back to the center of the room. He stopped his crouched fighting stance and stood upright. Extending both arms out, he dropped the shock sword to the ground. The three men looked at one another, confused.

  “Do you want us to drop ours?” left man asked.

  “Give me your best, is what I want,” Marcus said, but the level sevens looked at one another, nervous. Hitting an unarmed man was frowned upon, let alone hitting Marcus Malliden. “One year salary for each hit you land.”

  They looked shocked at the offer. Max huffed and shook his head. This was the greatest thing he had seen in a long time, his own heart was pounding with elation. The ship report could wait.

  The three rushed him in a wedge pattern. Marcus picked the right-side man, spun by and kicked him in the back, making him fall on his own shock sword.

  Two left. Everything about Max was standing at attention, as he focused on the man with the long blond hair. He’d trained enough men to spot a fighter, and the man had the fire in him. Long-blond-haired man in the center, nodded to left man.

  They have a plan. Max rubbed his hands as the showdown continued.

  Left man ran in a large circle around Marcus. Marcus split his attention between the two. Marcus faced center man, while left man passed behind him. Then he slid across the floor and kicked left man in the knee cap. Max tingled at the cracking sound. Left man fell forward onto Marcus, Marcus rolled, grabbing left man’s arm. Center man slid his shock sword across the floor, Marcus spotted it and jumped up, holding onto left man, but he didn’t get airborne fast enough and the sliding shock sword touched his heel. The Mona-Lisa-smile left Marcus’s face. He showed no pain, but Max knew he felt that shock as much as any man.

  Marcus held left man tightly, making him drop his sword and cry out in pain. He set him down and side-kicked him, sending him stumbling across the room, hitting the wall next to Emmett with a crunch. Emmett looked down at the man lying in a heap and then back to Marcus.

  “Sorry, Marcus,” center man said, standing in a hand-to-hand d
efensive position.

  “Why would you be sorry? That was one year’s salary, do you want to earn another?” Marcus used his foot and kicked up the shock sword into his hand. “Are you not giving me everything you have? Because that is what I asked for.” He walked closer to center man.

  Center man took a step back. “I am, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Max cringed. “How generous of you to spare me pain, but I’m here to test my skills, fine tune my craft, and sharpen my blade. If monetary rewards aren’t enough, Len, perhaps your wife, Bridget, or your daughters, Stacy, Claire, or Jenny would be proper motivation. If they were on the line, would you spare me the pain?”

  Max exhaled and controlled his excitement as goose bumps rolled down his stimulated body. He loved when Marcus pulled out all the punches. Did the man study each of the sevens before the fight? Or did he just know everything? Emmett shot him a glance and Max relaxed his hands and pretended he’d seen it a thousand times.

  Len’s face contorted with rage. He knew Marcus didn’t bluff and could make anything in the world happen. “You better not touch them.”

  “Prove you’re not sparing me.” Marcus tossed the shock sword away.

  Len rushed at Marcus, kicking at his chest. Marcus moved his torso to dodge it. Len jabbed at his face in rapid succession. Marcus blocked each attack with his hands and forearms.

  “Much better, Len, you were holding back.” Marcus said as Len’s punches flew. “Now it’s my turn.”

  Marcus dodged a hook and blocked a jab, then sent a fist into Len’s chest. Len’s body fell backward landing on his back. Adjusting himself, Max watched on as Len coughed and grabbed at his chest. He tried to stand but fell to the floor and rolled on the ground, unable to stand. A few other seven’s rushed to his side to help him to his feet.

  Marcus turned and made eye contact with Max for the first time. Max straightened up.

  “Max, so good to see you,” Marcus said.

  “Good to see you, Marcus, it looks like you haven’t missed a step.”

  Marcus looked at the men, holding onto their hurt body parts leaving the room. They helped Len out of the room.

  “I have you to thank for it, Max.” Marcus put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Anything for you.” Max gave a small bow with his head. Seeing Marcus like his old self was more of a gift than he could have ever dreamed of. He held back the emotions because Marcus saw emotions as a weakness, but seeing the man’s beautiful face again kept his imagination running.

  “I take it you didn’t come up here to see me mess with sevens,” Marcus said.

  “No,” Max said and he wished he hadn’t broken the screen. “One of the search teams hasn’t responded. Their last known location was with the mutants.”

  Marcus’s eyes narrowed at the word mutants. “How long ago?”

  “Two days.”

  “Two days,” Marcus said holding out two fingers. “This is unacceptable. Find out who delayed such information and send it to my Pana.”

  “That isn’t the only thing,” Max said and took a deep breath. “The cameras showed Harris in the cockpit right before he disabled them.”

  Marcus moved closer and grabbed Max’s forearms, squeezing hard. He felt pain shooting through his bones, as if they might snap. Max didn’t allow the pain to show in his face. He had trained to tolerate much worse, besides, the pain was electrifying when it came from Marcus.

  “Your brother lives,” Marcus said.

  “We haven’t found the ship yet—”

  “They went to Sanct, it would be the most logical place to go,” Marcus said and released Max’s forearms. He extended a hand to Emmett who handed him a Panavice.

  Marcus slid his finger around the screen and typed into it. “There, some unidentifiables have been registered, and knowing Travis, he’s hiding Harris for his own uses.” Marcus rubbed his chin. “Emmett, make the calls.”

  Max stepped forward and hoped he wasn’t being too bold, “Marcus, if I may, I would like to be the one to put an end to this.”

  Marcus’s eyes narrowed. “You have given me my life back, Max, you did what Isaac and Simon were unable to do, and for that you have my gratitude.” He moved close to Max, but Max didn’t take a step back. He stared at Marcus’s chest, waiting for whatever Marcus decided to do to him.

  “Do you have it in you to choke,” Marcus put his cold hand around Max’s throat, “the life from your brother?”

  Max tried to swallow, but Marcus’s fierce grip wouldn’t let his muscles move. In a few seconds, Max would pass out. Unable to speak he nodded his head.

  Marcus released his throat.

  Max coughed once and then straightened his stance. The pleasure of having Marcus’s hands on him, made him want to erupt. He hoped his arousal wasn’t showing. He would be visiting Basalt City tonight to choke someone and he could wait to unleash until then.

  Marcus gazed at him with an eyebrow raised. Did he know about Max’s exploits in Basalt? The man did know everything.

  “I will give this task to you, Max,” Marcus said. “You can capture or kill Harris, I prefer killed, but I want the kids alive.”

  “It shall be done,” Max affirmed.

  “Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going to visit my mother.” Marcus smiled. “It feels good to be back.”

  Max hid the question begging to be spread across his face. Marcus mentioned visiting Alice on occasion, but his mother had been dead for nearly two hundred and eighty-seven years.

  “Good to have you back.”

  Marcus turned and walked toward the elevator.

  “Wrangling a few kids shouldn’t pose a problem, right?” Emmett whispered to him on his way out of the training room.

  “Of course not.” He knew the kids were important to Marcus, he didn’t know exactly why, but it was not his job to question. Those two kids were still holed up in the scene generator. Marcus was trying to breed them for whatever reason, he didn’t know. Maybe that Joey kid still wasn’t performing. He shook the thoughts from his mind. He had a task in front of him that needed his full attention.

  He took out his Panavice and skimmed the names until he found Travis Denail. He pressed the green talk button and held the Panavice against his ear.

  THEY WERE ALIVE.

  Poly forced her smile down and cleared her throat and said, “Can you take us to these other Doe’s?”

  “Thought you wanted to see Travis?” The guard asked as he slowed down and looked over his shoulder.

  “After. Take us to the Doe’s.” Poly left no room for arguing in her tone. It took all her will power not to grab the guard and force him to run.

  “Okay, sure, it’s actually the place we’re supposed to take you anyways. They haven’t said much though.” The guard walked to the building wall and stopped at a door. A red light changed to green above and the door slid open to a small glass room. The guard walked in and selected a number on the panel next to the door.

  Poly didn’t pay attention to the number and skid her feet near the edge of the glass elevator wall, overlooking the huge city. Buildings of all heights formed a large circle, maybe three miles wide. The buildings weren’t of the same architecture she was used to. Some twisted up, while others domed, or tilted. There colors ranged from black to emerald green—one even sparkled with pink glitter. She vowed right then, she would go to that building. What could be on the inside of a glittery, pink building?

  Vehicles drove on the circular streets below and people, in similar outfits to Capital, walked down sidewalks. If she wasn’t pretending to be some bounty hunter, she would have openly gushed to Lucas about the city. She glanced at him and saw the wonder in his eyes as he gazed at the sight.

  “Impressive, isn’t?” the guard asked.

  Poly nodded once. The elevator slowed to a stop. They were still a hundred feet above the city floor when the elevator door slid open.

  “You’ll find them in room 1832.”

  “You’re n
ot coming?” Poly asked.

  “Oh no, I need to get back to my post.”

  Poly and Lucas stepped from the elevator.

  “We want to see Travis soon,” Lucas said.

  The guard nodded, as the elevator slid closed and the green light above turned red.

  They looked at each other and then ran down the hall. The painted white walls and ceiling reflected what little light came from the bulbs in the ceiling. They zoomed past signs for 1828, and then 1830.

  “1832,” Lucas read aloud as they came to a quick stop.

  Poly stared at the door. Could her friends truly be on the other side? They exchanged a look and then she knocked on the door and took a few steps back. Lucas grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly.

  A rustling sound came from the other side and then the door swung open, revealing Hank. His face went from angry, to shock, and then to a big grin. Hank leapt into the hallway and grabbed Poly, lifting her off the ground, in a hug.

  She would have hugged him back if he hadn’t pinned her arms against his frame, but she didn’t care, by some miracle they were all alive. “Good to see you, Hank,” she wheezed.

  Julie rushed past them, holding her mouth. She jumped into Lucas’s waiting arms and he spun with her. She clasped the sides of his head and kissed every inch of his face. He laughed, not able to contain the relief at having her in his arms again.

  Hank let Poly out of the hug and she breathed in, watching Lucas and Julie embrace. Lucas put her down and tears flowed from Julie’s face. She smiled and stared at Lucas. Then she laughed. Lucas wrapped her up in another bear hug.

  “Poly, Lucas,” Julie squealed from Lucas’s embrace.

  “Julie, I’m so happy to see you.” It was Poly’s turn to bear hug someone.

  She felt tears building in her eyes. At her low point on the boat, she’d written them off as dead. She’d steeled her heart to deal with the death of her friends. To have them in front of her made everything better, just like when she first saw Lucas on the beach. Four, they had four. Now they just needed two more and they could get the hell away from everything, and everyone.