Grim Vengeance

by Jennifer Reinfried

  “Do you know how it felt to be sitting on my dead friend’s bed, at her funeral, going through this list she left us only to find not just your name on it, but her own as well? If that wasn’t bad enough, how about the whopper underneath Cassie’s name? My own fiancée’s? The woman I loved, that I thought was murdered in cold blood because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time? Huh? And to find out she was actually working for that Russian filth right alongside Cassie, in the same fucking category as that bitch Emma or that cocksucker Alex. Tell me Dad, how can I not be a little mad, a little cuckoo, a little insane? Tell me that!”

  Pain shot through Jaxon’s fists as he turned and slammed them into the stainless steel refrigerator. He screamed long and loud, his voice hoarse, while he sent anything not secured to the floor flying into the air.

  -Jax, please. Their names aren’t written in the same handwriting. How can you know someone just didn’t—-

  “It’s Cassie’s. She wrote it. But did she even bother telling us she was working both sides? Of course not.” Another shockwave shot out from his chest, fueled by anger and grief and the horror of everything he’d done since Julie’s death, everything that was bottled up inside of him exploded outward. The refrigerator dented. Drawers flew to the floor. Cabinet doors cracked. The couch fell and toppled on its side. The chandelier shattered on the floor. Henry’s list fluttered into the living room.

  Lowering himself to his knees, Jaxon let out a cry of pain, not from the glass beneath him piercing his flesh, but from the agony in his heart. He rubbed his weary eyes. “What am I doing, Dad? What have I done?”

  -Oh, Jax. Oh, please. I know. I understand how upset you are, I really do. But I’m with you one hundred percent, all right?-

  “Yeah, I know. You want to help.” Jaxon sniffled and swiped a hand underneath his nose. “There is no help. I can’t back out now.”

  -Of course you can. Stop going after Shawn, after everyone associated with Vance. Leave the country. I’ll help you. We can go anywhere together.-

  Jaxon swallowed. “But...but they’ll get away with it. With everything.”

  -You know damn well that has to happen sometimes. Yes, there’s evil in the world, but we can’t fight it all.-

  A sudden buzz in his pocket sharpened Jaxon’s mind once again. Pulling out his phone, he began to grin as he read a new text from Charlie: I have Vance, but the plan has changed. New location.

  Without waiting for the next message, Jaxon slid his cell back in its place and stood. “Dad, like I said already, it’s too late.”

  -Please, Jax. Please, no. Let’s run. Leave it be.-

  “Not gonna happen. He has the man that started all of this misery, this pain. And I intend to rip him apart.”

  Bruce said nothing in his head as Jaxon hurried through the quiet house. He exited from the side and into the garage, staring at the seven different cars before him.

  -You can’t fly. Your face is plastered all over national news.-

  “There you go again, thinking I’m stupid.”

  -I’m just trying to help.-

  “Just stop. I don’t want anything from you. I don’t even want you here. I killed you for a reason.”

  Silence flooded Jaxon’s head. Keeping his thoughts carefully guarded, focusing only on tracking down the Synths, he slapped a button on the wall to open the garage door. Using the keys he found in the foyer, he discovered they belonged to a bright orange Camaro with a thick black racing stripe along its hood. He stepped up to it, trailing his fingers along its smooth sleek body.

  -This screams “Look at me,” Jax. Shouldn’t you take a more inconspicuous car?-

  “What the hell did I say? Shut. The fuck. Up.” Jaxon slid into the black leather seat behind the steering wheel. Turning the key, he smiled at the sound of the engine roaring to life with a throaty growl. Awesome.

  -Okay. Yeah. It’s pretty bad ass.-

  “Orson’s body won’t be found for a little while. I have time to take this thing out of state at least, before anyone starts looking. I’ll steal another car in a bit.”

  -Car theft. Breaking and entering. Murder. When you’re caught, Jax, you’re going to be put away for life. Are you thinking about that? And if the government gets their hands on you, what makes you think they don’t have scientists associated with Lab 14 that can take you down? Hell, they could be looking for you now, after what you did in Boston. Please, just stop and think about this. Talk to me. We can figure this out, stop it before you do anything you regret.-

  Jaxon pressed the accelerator down, sending the Camaro forward. The headlights swept around in an arc, illuminating Orson’s secluded driveway and the gate that still stood open.

  “They have my face, but no one’s released my name, not yet.” He picked up speed, putting Orson’s home and his corpse behind him. “Besides.” He tapped at the screen of his cell phone with one thumb, bringing up Charlie’s number and hitting the dial button. “You know damn well they’re not going to catch me, not going to take me in. I’m too powerful. And if they do have a way to stop me, I’m sure as hell going to take as many people on this fucking planet as I can down with me.”

  I have him. I have Ivan Vance.

  I’m one step closer to winning Emma and her power I so desperately crave. One step closer to killing the Synths. Killing Shawn.

  Vance bought my story.

  Of course he did.

  Killing Chelsea solidified his belief.

  So did keeping the other persuasion Evo alive, who, I assume, must be Emma’s brother or some relation.

  It’s unfortunate the voodoo Evo perished, but he would have just been difficult to kill later on.

  Everything happens for a reason.

  Now, we head for Lab 15.

  I can’t wait to make Duncan watch as Jax and I kill each Synth in front of him, one by one.

  Chapter Ten

  Charlie gripped the steering wheel of the car tight in his hands. It bucked and twisted from the uneven ground beneath their wheels. He drove slowly through the woods, careful to keep on the narrow side path that led through an abandoned military site. Boarded-up buildings passed here and there, but for the most part, all he saw were trees that crept by. A little under a half a mile ahead, a long, one-story building stood, its lit windows the only signs of civilization around. He kept his focus on getting to Lab 15 without ruining his car and on the needle he’d slipped up his right sleeve. Ah, they kept the lab above ground this time in case another Synth goes postal, so they have more escape routes. At least they learned from their mistakes.

  The pleasant tingle he felt in his palms was steadily increasing. It had been faint since they had left the bunker, radiating only due to the close presence of Michael in the back of the car and Ivan Vance, who scowled from the passenger seat.

  “This is obnoxious,” the Russian said, his voice harsh.

  “I’m not having a better time than you are.” Charlie cranked the wheel left to avoid hitting a large rock at the last moment, and the pair was flung to the side. “Would it have killed them to put a damn road? Hell, some gravel would be better than this.”

  “The less attention they draw, the better.”

  “Well, when we get out of this, you’re buying me a new car.”

  Vance mumbled something in Russian.

  “So what, when we get inside, we’re just winging it?” Michael gripped the backs of both seats in front of him, his jaw set.

  Charlie glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “Vance gets us past the guards. If they give us trouble, you use your persuasion on them.” A memory hit him, and he chuckled.

  “What is funny?” Vance asked, letting out a long breath as the ground beneath them finally leveled out.

  Waving his hand, he said, “These are not the Synths you’re looking for.”

  The Russian stared at him, but Michael groaned. “Anyway...”

  “Once we’re in,” Charlie continued, “all we need you to do is convince everyone to
listen to us, and they’ll do whatever we tell them to. Chicken dance. Fight each other to the death. Kill themselves.” He paused, letting his mind wander as he approached a gate. “Slit their wrists, lap up their own blood. Gouge out their—”

  “You were not lying when you said you had a shitty childhood, I see.” Vance was looking at him with a blank expression.

  “Anyway.” Charlie cleared his throat. “Once everyone is subdued, I call Duncan, get him to come to us. But we have to take out the time stopper first. Once I at least have her in my grasp, all I have to do is stop time myself, and you can take care of the other Synths.” He tore his eyes from the gate and shot Vance a hard look. “But you keep Emma alive. I swear, if you hurt her—”

  “Yes, yes. Threats and promises.” The Russian reached forward and caught himself as the tires on his side bounced over a tree root. “Just get us there, will you? I already need a drink and possibly three to four cigars.”

  Charlie drove another few seconds in silence before slowing to a stop and rolling down his window, smiling at two visibly armed guards, one man and one very tall woman. They walked toward the car, one on either side.

  “You lost?” The man asked in a clear voice. His eyes darted between the three passengers, coming to rest on the Russian.

  “My associates and I are here to ensure my money has been well spent.” Vance barely glanced at the guards as he spoke.

  “And you are?” The woman was crouched, bringing herself to his eye level.

  “Ivan Vance. The man funding this damn project. Get this gate open. Now.”

  Charlie felt his heart pick up speed as the male guard turned away from the car, mouth already pressed to a walkie talkie, mumbling words that didn’t carry to the group. His mind flew to the needle he had hidden up his sleeve, but he forced himself to remain calm when he noted a single camera pointed in their direction hanging from the roof of a small nearby shack. The female guard stayed where she was, squatting on her long legs, weapon drawn but pointing down. She never took her eyes off of them, and she never changed her blank expression.

  After a few tense moments, the man walked back toward them, face also unreadable. “Sorry, sir,” he directed at Vance. “You’re free to go in.”

  The Russian nodded once. He waved a large hand at Charlie, who released his foot from the brake. The car crept forward just as the gate slid open.

  Parking alongside the building’s off-white side wall, the three men exited the vehicle. Charlie fought to keep his anger under control. Another lab. More Synths. He worked his jaw from side to side as he followed close behind Vance. They approached the only door in sight, which opened moments before they reached it. A short woman with red hair smiled at them from its frame.

  “Mr. Vance. How good of you to come.” The tone of her voice said otherwise, the words tense and holding irritation. “We weren’t expecting you.”

  The Russian said nothing and instead shot a look at Michael, who smiled at her.

  “Hi. Name’s Mike. Who are you?”

  She graced him with an unimpressed glance. “Dr. Breckner.”

  “What’s your first name?”

  “Claire.”

  “And are you in charge here? Do you run this facility?”

  Her gaze was faltering as she stared into his eyes.

  God, I can’t wait to have that power. Charlie glanced at Michael. But I want Emma, too.

  “Yes.” Claire’s words were losing their harshness.

  “Good. Listen to me.”

  She leaned forward slightly.

  Michael smiled. “I want you to do every single thing I say. I want you to do anything Mr. Vance says. I want you to do anything my other friend here, Charlie, says. Do you understand?”

  Claire nodded, her eyes widening.

  “Good. You’re going to do anything we ask, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. Whatever you need.”

  Michael shared a look with Vance and stepped back.

  Charlie walked forward. “Move.” He walked into Lab 15, pushing past Claire, who stumbled to the side to get out of his way. They stood in a long empty hallway that only led to the right. To the left was a large room full of tables that were covered in equipment he couldn’t name. A bright red fire extinguisher clashed against the white of the far wall. It hung next to a coiled hose and a single axe encased in a plastic box. “Take us to the rest of the staff.”

  Claire hurried forward, and they followed, staying alert. The hallway opened up. The first person they encountered was easily persuaded to join them. As they continued through the building, their numbers grew until they came upon a larger group. Without asking permission, Charlie touched Michael’s arm and pulled some of the man’s Evo power inside his body. Together, the two of them quickly convinced the entire group to follow them, bringing their number close to twenty.

  Michael turned to Claire, who stood very close to him. “Is this everyone?”

  She nodded. “All except the children.”

  “Take us to them.”

  Following her once more, they came to a side hallway that led to two doors, a closed one on the right and an open on the left. Claire gestured inside. “We keep them in there when we aren’t running tests. They...they’re little kids.” Her eyes held nervousness, and she wrung her hands.

  “We aren’t going to hurt them.” Michael kept his words soft. “Please don’t worry about that.”

  She relaxed visibly under his power. Charlie stepped into the room, crossing the threshold and glancing around. Five young children sat in a semi-circle on a rug, rolling a ball to each other and giggling. A woman looked up at his entrance, startled. She reached out and stopped the ball as it passed her left leg, a question in her eyes.

  “I thought you said there weren’t any other adults,” Charlie growled.

  Michael cleared his throat. “Claire, let her know everything is fine. We’re just visitors.”

  She nodded and repeated what he’d said to the other woman.

  “Now tell her to join the others.”

  Charlie walked forward and took the woman’s place on the rug once she left, sitting cross-legged in front of the children. “Hi,” he said jovially. A little boy stared at him. The child next to him waved, and Charlie raised an eyebrow. “How old are they again?”

  “One,” Claire said.

  “That kid just waved at me. Like he knew what I said.”

  She nodded. “Lab 15 is focusing on Synthetics that have increased intelligence in addition to the gifts they’re born with. They already know what you’re saying. Within another year we expect them to be able to hold full conversations, and after that—”

  Charlie silenced her with a glare. Turning back to the children, he forced a smile on his face, addressing the children he had wanted to prevent, that he wished never existed, that brought pure hatred bubbling through him. “Wanna play a game?”

  Most of the kids stared back at him, but a little girl with grey hair and eyes that were nearly black smiled. She nodded and held her small hands out for the ball.

  “Okay, first you catch this.” Charlie gently bounced it toward her. She caught it and giggled. The laughter seemed to awaken the other children, shake their shyness away, and they all began to chatter, only half making sense while they passed the ball between each other again.

  Michael tilted his head and jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

  Charlie rose up on his haunches, squatting, resting his arms on his thighs. He made sure to smile as he spoke. “Now, you keep playing, okay? Stay here. But don’t try to leave, or the monster will get you!” He reached out, tickling the little girl with grey hair. She threw her head back and giggled, squirming away from his grasp. Charlie stood. He shot one last glance at the playing children, walked back into the hallway, and shut the door behind him. “Lock this.”

  Claire stared at him.

  He softened his voice. “We won’t hurt them. Remember? Scout’s honor.”

  She nodded and did a
s she was told.

  “If I recall, this door leads into a storage unit, no?” Vance jerked his head to the right.

  “Yes,” one of the staff, a man, said.

  Michael brought his face closer to Claire’s, staring intensely into her eyes. “Are there any exits inside the storage unit?”

  She shook her head.

  “Who has the keys to lock this door? Do you?”

  Claire shook her head and glanced at the group of adults a few feet away.

  “I do.” A woman in a custodial jumpsuit stepped forward, hand already extended with keys dangling from her fingers.

  Michael snatched them, still keeping his gaze locked with Claire’s. “Can you open the door from the inside if it is locked?”

  “No.”

  “Is there anything inside that could be used to break the door down?”

  “No.” Her eyes were growing wary again.

  “Don’t worry. We aren’t going to hurt any of you, either.”

  “Okay.”

  “I want you to take everyone inside the storage unit, please. Right now.”

  “No. She stays here for a moment.” Vance motioned to Charlie. “Get your phone out. Everyone else, get inside, quietly.”

  The Lab 15 staff complied, shuffling into the storage unit in silence, the only sounds the scratching of their shoes on the cement floor. Once the last person was inside, Michael closed it and started trying keys in the lock.

  “Charlie,” the Russian snapped. “Your phone.”

  Shooting Vance a harsh look, he complied, making sure the cell was unlocked before turning it over. “What, you’re going to call him?”

  “No. She is.” Vance handed Claire the phone, who stared back at him in confusion.

  “Call who?” she asked.

  Charlie stepped behind the Russian, keeping an eye on Michael, who was still trying to find the right key to lock the storage unit door. The weight of the hidden needle seemed to increase, and Charlie slipped further out of Vance’s peripheral vision.