Reckoning

by Christine Fonseca

  Only to find myself back in the box.

  It’s only a dream, I say in the recesses of my thoughts. None of this is real.

  Isn’t it? How can you be so sure? My father’s voice fills my mind.

  Go away, I think. I force myself to think of David, his promise, our future. For a moment, the box begins to fade, replaced by images of David and me together and the feel of his body next to mine.

  The constriction in my lungs eases. Until the images again darken and fade. The air grows heavy and stale. I hear the familiar sound of the dirt as it encloses me in my tomb.

  You can’t escape me, Assassin. The image of LeMercier surrounds my thoughts. I know where you are. I’m coming for you.

  I’m not your Assassin. Not anymore.

  You killed the others without hesitation. You are everything I hoped you’d be. But I can still make you more powerful. Join me. Come home.

  I will never join you. My lungs constrict on the last word as the air grows more stale.

  LeMercier’s face grows, his eyes dark and filled with rage. Then you and everyone you hold dear will die, starting with David.

  My throat closes. My lungs scream for oxygen that does not exist. Panic seizes my thoughts. I jab my nails into my palms and try to wake myself from this nightmare. The sides of the box tighten around me. Darkness refuses to abate. My mind swirls, blurs . . .

  Ends.

  My eyes open to a dark room, softmoonlight streaming in through white sheers. Home. I settle my thoughts, aware of David’s strong arms still blanketing me. “Help me, Josh,” I whisper in the darkness. He was always the one to ease me from my nightmares. He taught me how to shield my thoughts and block out the dreams. But he isn’t here now. He’ll never be here again.

  Because of me.

  I roll over and look at David. No worry lines mar his face. I love you, I hear him say in my thoughts. I want us to have a life together. You have to let go of the past. Embrace your gifts and move forward. There is no way I can do what he asks. I won’t give in to LeMercier. I can’t trust myself or my abilities. I just can’t.

  I release myself from David’s embrace. He moans, smiles, and rolls to his other side, settling back into a deep sleep.

  “I love you,” I whisper before I walk to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. I stare at the mirror and my reflection reveals a truth I don’t want to admit. There is no future for me that includes David or a normal life. It just isn’t possible.

  I walk back to the bedroom. My skin turns to gooseflesh. Shadows that don’t belong move across the window. I flatten myself on the floor and creep toward the sheers. Chancing a glance, I peer into the darkness. Nothing but a soft breeze swaying the trees that surround the property. I release a strangled breath. “Get a grip,” I say to myself and stand. “No one is here.” I turn toward the bed just as a voice fills my mind.

  I am.

  Instincts take over and throw a shield around David and me. LeMercier laughs. You can’t win. You can’t escape. He raises one hand and David begins to cough and choke. His eyes pop open as his hand goes to his throat, pulling at invisible vines.

  “Stop,” I yell. I ram into LeMercier’s thoughts, pushing images of his death into every crevice. “Let him go.”

  LeMercier smiles as David continues to fight against his unseen enemy.

  Again I push into LeMercier’s mind. I attack his thoughts, willing his body to crumble.

  David coughs. His eyes roll back, his mouth opens, and a horrible choking sound fills the room.

  “Stop!” I order.

  Laughter is the only reply. That and the crushing stillness of David’s limp body.

  I bolt upright as sweat pours from my brow. David sleeps next to me, quiet. I lean in, desperate to feel his breath on my skin and know that his death was nothing more than my never-ending nightmares. The slow in-and-out of his breath soothes me immediately and I feel my heartbeat begin to regulate.

  “Just a dream,” I whisper as I get up and walk into the other room. “A couple of weird dreams.”

  These weren’t ordinary dreams though. These were warnings. Ones I don’t intend to ignore. I glance over my shoulder, memorizing the image of David. The way his body moves in rhythmic patterns with each breath. The peace that radiates across his face. The odd angles of his hair. Each image burns into my thoughts. I know what I have to do now.

  Even if I don’t want to do it.

  I open the drawers in the kitchen, looking for pen and paper. Finding a small pad, I quickly scribble a note that I hope captures everything I need to say:

  David –

  I love you. I know I never say it as often as I should, but I need you to know how much I care about you. Every day more of my memories return, and with them I remember everything you were to me back then, everything you are to me now. I know you think we can be safe if we stay together, that I will learn to control my abilities and people will eventually stop looking for us. I wish I believed the same. But, more assassins will come. LeMercier won’t stop until he has me. And as long as you are with me, he’ll target you too. I won’t let you get hurt, caught in the crossfire because of me. You’ve already lost too much.

  Please don’t try to follow me. This is something I have to do. For me. For us. It’s better for everyone this way. You know I’m right. We can’t be together—not while I’m broken. Not while LeMercier lives. And not if I become what I must in order to kill him.

  Remember that I love you. Thank you for making me feel safe and believing we could have a normal life. If only for a moment.

  Forever yours,

  Dakota

  I fold the paper in half and place it on the nightstand along with the slim band of metal that represents a future I can never hope to find. My lips brush softly against his forehead. I leave the room, closing the door on David and what he represents. If I’m lucky, we will never see each other again and I will know that he is safe, far away from LeMercier, the Solomon experiments, and me.

  The go-bag from my parents and Josh is taped under a drawer in the kitchen. I grab the bag and quickly inspect its contents: passports, IDs and a small amount of cash. I grab some of the cash and a new ID for me. Tears well in my eyes and I wipe them away. There is no time for my grief. I have to get away and figure out how to end things with LeMercier.

  Mom’s voice fills my mind. Go home, Dakota. Go home. She sounds real, even though I know I’m just trading one fantasy for another. I linger too long in the memories of her, wondering what she would do if she were here. But I don’t know what she’d do.

  I will never know.

  I detach from my thoughts before the anger can take hold. I replace the go-bag in the kitchen and shove the cash and ID into my backpack. Taking one last glance, I shut the door on my life.

  Again.

  The path to the main road is long, littered with petals and droppings from the trees. The sky is painted in pink and gold as a new day begins. Fragrant flowers fill my senses, along with the singing of birds. I will miss this island, the peace I thought I’d be able to have forever. Pulling my backpack closer to me, I speed up my gait, anxious to put distance between me and David.

  Anxious to figure out how to end this life with LeMercier.

  Once and for all.

  Seven blinked his eyes open, his neck andshoulders stiff from the earlier workout. The physical exertion, the domination of his thoughts, they had both taken their toll. Seven was used to his master’s invasions and the endless brainwashing sessions by this point. The Creator demanded loyalty in all ways. Seven may have had to relinquish control, but that didn’t mean the feeling had become comfortable.

  He unfolded his legs and shook them to life. He always meditated on the floor, something he’d learned in the time before the Creator groomed him, before his training. Before he knew about his gifts.

  Seven thought about his early childhood as a familiar darkness engulfed him. A small house. The sound of children laughing. No matter how
hard he tried to pry the memories from his mind, he could never fully recall his life prior to the Creator. Seven clung to the fading images, the desperate reminder of his life before, a life lodged in the unreachable places of his thoughts.

  Seven expelled a tight breath. He had meditated this morning to focus his mind, calm the impact of the earlier invasion. He couldn’t afford to go down this rabbit hole again.

  He stood and remembered the images of the Assassin given to him by his Master. Seven was finally getting the chance to prove himself. He would find her. Whatever the Creator wanted from him, he would comply.

  He had to.

  Grabbing a small towel, Seven walked out of his room and down the long hallway toward a communal bathroom. He splashed water on his face and stared in the mirror. Worry etched in the lines of his face. Not only worry. Rage. His blond hair stood at out angles, resembling a lion’s mane. Seven pulled it back at the nape and secured it with a small elastic band. He stretched his still-stiff neck, his gaze fixated on the golden eyes staring back. The same worry and rage glinted across his pupils.

  Images fresh from his meditation filled his thoughts: the gunmen and their feeble attempts to hunt the Assassin. They should have killed her in the shop. She was unaware, vulnerable. An easy target.

  Why had she been so stupid?

  Seven contemplated her behavior. Why hide for months and then be so careless? Did she think the Creator wasn’t watching? Did she mistake him for a fool? Could she really believe she was safe?

  You’ll never be safe now.

  More images burned inside Seven’s mind: the precision and ease of the Assassin’s retaliation. She never looked at them when she attacked. Didn’t wait to ensure their deaths. Maybe the Creator was right. Despite the Assassin’s lack of training, she was strong. Gifted.

  Deadly.

  Doubt-filled rage crowded out the images. Seven’s jaw twitched as his eyes narrowed, lost in his own thoughts. “I won’t let you win,” he said to the reflection in the mirror, his mind focused only on his unseen enemy. “You. Won’t. Win!” Seven’s hands fisted. He smashed his reflection and the glass shattered, falling in razored shards against the tiled sink. He released a feral scream and walked back to his room.

  Raw emotions clung to his skin as he paced the small space. Back and forth. Back and forth. A hunter stalking his prey. Anticipation prickled his skin. He had to get out and start his mission. The sooner the better.

  It’s time.

  The Creator’s voice filled his mind. Seven released a strangled breath as a smile curved his lips.

  Find her. Watch her. Find out who she’s with, how she’s training. Report back everything. Report, but do not attack her. Not yet.

  “Yes, my master,” Seven said, his voice monotone. He grabbed a small, black backpack and hiked it over his should. Anxiety and excitement mixed in equal proportion as he left his room.

  Seven reached the end of the compound. Pain stabbed at his temples, stopping him. His hands grabbed at his scalp. His vision blurred.

  “You cannot leave before we speak.”

  The familiar voice erupted a trail of goose bumps across Seven’s arms.

  More pain shot through his mind. Water pricked behind his eyes as he struggled to push his emotions aside.

  “This is not a request. We must speak.”

  Seven couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from. He only knew who it belonged to—

  The Order.

  How? Why? The questions formed in Seven’s thoughts before he could stop them. He’d never been summoned by a member of the Order. He didn’t know how to communicate with them other than through the projection screens in the Master’s office. He didn’t know how they had managed to communicate with only him.

  “The screens. Now.”

  The pain subsided as the voice faded. Seven turned back toward the compound and the Creator’s office. For a moment, he wondered if this was nothing more than a trick designed by his Master to confirm loyalty; a strange and twisted training exercise. He walked across the courtyard and debated with himself. If this was a trick, the Creator would lose faith in him. If the Order was commanding him, noncompliance would be dealt with harshly. Either way, Seven knew his life was about to get worse.

  Much worse.

  He hesitated outside his master’s office. The door was open, the room empty. Seven slinked into the office and closed the door. Shielding his thoughts, he padded across the room to his Master’s desk. Seven had seen the Creator activate the projection screens in the past. He opened the center drawer and pushed a hidden button in the center of the drawer. A console opened across the desk revealing more buttons. He hesitated.

  What if I’m wrong, he thought. What if this is a mistake? A jolt of white-hot pain shot through his temples. Seven grunted as his body stiffened. He had his answer. Compliance wasn’t optional.

  Seven pushed the buttons in rapid succession. Within moments, five black screens dropped from hidden openings in the ceiling. One by one, the screens illuminated. Pixels fused and formed images of each member of the Order.

  Seven’s breath caught in his throat. He had never met the members of the Order. He’d never even seen all of them. He only knew that the Creator didn’t trust them.

  Maybe he shouldn’t trust them either.

  Seven blinked his thoughts away and stowed his emotions. His gaze raked across the projected images from left to right: a man with heavily wrinkled tea-colored skin. His teeth were sparse, his eyes bright. In the next projection stood a woman with ebony skin. Her golden eyes gave her the appearance of a leopard.

  The next screen held a face he knew too well—the woman who visited the compound. The one his Master distrusted the most. She had small, dark eyes that held no emotion. Glossy black hair framed her face. In her hand was a small device that resembled a remote control. The woman gave the impression of being the leader. Seven knew she held much power within the Order. Little was ever said or done without her knowledge.

  The last two screens held images of gray-haired men in white lab coats. Quiet and disinterested, these two appeared to be here by obligation.

  Seven swallowed hard. The Order had come. To speak to him without his Master’s knowledge.

  This wasn’t going to be good.

  “You summoned me?” Seven’s voice sounded more like a nervous schoolboy than a well-trained psychic warrior.

  “Yes,” the familiar woman said. “You’ve been tasked with finding LeMercier’s pet project, correct?” The disdain in the woman’s voice was unmistakable.

  “Yes,” Seven replied. He could understand why his Master distrusted her.

  “Was that the extent of your orders?”

  Seven secured his thoughts. He didn’t want to reveal too much. He wasn’t about to betray the Creator.

  “Well?” the woman asked again, the words barely able to escape her clenched teeth.

  Seven remained silent. Immediately his head felt like it would explode. He grabbed at his temples with both hands as water blurred his vision.

  “Your compliance is not a choice,” the woman said. She held up the small device. “You will answer me or I will turn your brain into mush.”

  Seven’s eyes widened.

  “Oh, is see. He didn’t tell you.” A malicious smile covered the woman’s face, reaching up to her eyes. “There is a failsafe chip embedded in your brain. The Order’s condition to funding LeMercier’s little projects. We didn’t want more disasters like the first versions of these experiments. We insisted on a way to control his pets, destroy them if needed. Now, I’ll ask you again, what else did he order you to do?”

  Seven watched her finger hover dangerously close to buttons on the device. He focused his thoughts and swallowed hard. Locking his gaze to hers, he drew a picture of his own brain inside his mind. He saw each nerve ending, saw how they lit whenever she tapped on the buttons. One by one, Seven imagined his nerves quieting, dulling. The woman continued to tap on the buttons, but e
ach tap brought less pain, less impact to his nerves. It was working, he was controlling his mind.

  For now.

  Sweat beaded on his brow. He couldn’t hold off the pain much longer. He felt his control falter.

  The woman tapped the button. More pain exploded across his mind.

  Seven weakened. He closed his eyes and took a breath.

  “The next button I push ends you.” No emotions registered on the woman’s face.

  Seven tried to reach into her thoughts. Nothing. He had no choice. “He only wanted me to find her and report back.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

  “Nothing more?” The woman’s gaze narrowed.

  Seven shook his head, too weak to speak.

  “We have additional orders for you. The Assassin is never to return to LeMercier. You must kill her.”

  Seven felt the color drain from his face. “But—”

  “Kill her or we kill you,” said the leopard-like woman.

  “I won’t betray him. I can’t.” Seven’s voice was scarcely more than a whisper.

  “We know about your past, Seven. The time before you came here.” The low voice came from the wrinkled man. His voice sounded thin, papery. Like his skin. “We can tell you about your childhood, give you the reason you need to get away from LeMercier and serve us. Or we can kill you.” The man smiled and Seven’s skin turned to gooseflesh.

  The screens faded, all but the center one. The woman, the leader. “Kill the Assassin. Kill her and we will give you the information you want. The memories you crave. We will fill in the missing pieces of your memory.” The screen began to fade. “Fail us and you will die.”

  The grip around Seven’s skull released as the screens returned to their hidden alcoves. Seven slunk to his knees. Kill her or we kill you. We know about your past. The words looped through his thoughts. We can give you your memories.

  Seven swallowed hard. He left the office and stowed away his emotions deep within his mind. Forming a picture of the Assassin, he embraced his mission.