Darryl hated having to do it. Even though he did it to prevent the world from dipping deeper into an abyss filled with tainted relationships, deranged parents, and unwanted, unhappy children, he hated it. Making the very thought of lovemaking repulsive in the minds of those who otherwise wouldn’t act responsibly, knowing he was stealing from their lives all future moments of joy that were experienced during sex, none of it was easy for Darryl. Adhering to the second half of the Diamond Rule—“Spare None”—was the nastiest part of the business. But he accepted it. After all, he deserved to live the life that a former life of recklessness had created for him. Golden Rules were for a golden age. This time and place demanded a new philosophy.
Darryl wouldn’t put his shirt back on until he’d gotten a few more blocks away, closer to where he’d parked his Miata. He did, however, refasten his watches to his wrists. He’d almost forgotten about them, stuffed in his pants pockets. It was against IAI regulations for Watcher agents to remove them for any extended period of time. “Only when showering” was the actual instruction. But in Darryl’s mind, charity work trumped these regulations. The work was delicate, requiring his complete attention. He couldn’t let an incoming message snap his concentration and ruin the process. And it seemed the messages were more and more frequent these days.
Sure enough, he felt a sensation on the pulse of his right wrist before he could even open the driver’s side door. Someone at the Isaac-Abraham Institution was signaling him. Darryl touched his index and middle fingers to the watch’s face. After a few seconds, he intuited the message: He was to meet his partner in Arlington; Robert might have found a missing girl, and he needed help with the recovery.
Darryl made himself visible, slid into his car, and sped off. It would take him fifteen to twenty-five minutes to get there, depending on traffic—and the message was a Level 4, second highest priority—so he figured he didn’t have time to make a detour to his apartment to arm himself. He hoped his usual accessories wouldn’t be necessary.
When he got within a good walking distance of the target site, he parked his car on an adjoining street and strolled toward the general spot where he was to meet his partner. Since he wasn’t exactly sure where Robert was, he wanted Robert to see him, but to all others he wanted to appear nonchalant, as if he was just out for some exercise or fresh air.
“Up here.”
Darryl didn’t look up. He instead looked all around him to ensure no one was watching before he made himself invisible. He then looked and saw Robert a few dozen feet above him, sitting on the stout branch of a tree.
Him and trees…With his brown skin, the nappy black hair flecked with rusty-red hairs, and his penchant for dressing in dark jeans and never-bright T-shirts, Robert barely had to put much effort into twisting the light around his body to blend in. Darryl could tell that his T-shirt today was actually a red-wine color even though Robert was making it appear more like a black coffee. His ever-present black windbreaker hung on a branch, patches of it invisible, the rest appearing as leaves. Nice trick, for a show-off.
Darryl concentrated, twisting the electromagnetic radiation around his own body, and climbed up to the branch liked a winged cat.
“Glad you could make it,” Robert said as Darryl crouched down beside him. “Thought I’d have to go treasure-hunting alone.”
“I had an appointment.” Darryl exchanged his invisibility for tree-leaf camouflage.
“Not with a therapist, I’m guessing,” Robert said, “unless maybe it was a massage therapist?”
Darryl narrowed his eyes.
“Sorry,” Robert said. “I know how much your oh-so-great charity work means to you, and how much you think it means to the world, but—”
“Just shut up, Goldner. Tell me what we’ve got.”
“That blue house over there. See it?”
“I can see fine.”
“Adam thinks there’s a strong possibility the girl we’re looking for is somewhere inside.”
“Which girl?” Darryl asked. “There’re about twenty on our list now.”
Robert crooked an eyebrow. “Marie-Lydia McGillis.”
Darryl gave him a blank look.
“From Spencer, Virginia,” Robert said. “The redhead on all those videos.”
It took a few seconds for it to come together for him—but only a few. “The high school.”
“Yeah.”
Darryl thought about the lost opportunity of making that detour on the way over. “Shit.”
“Adam says not to hurt her,” Robert said.
“Uh-huh.”
“But it looks like maybe you got the message ahead of time, showing up without your bow. And your corresq, too, I assume.”
Darryl thought about the accessories he usually carried on special recoveries, those situations where there was a strong possibility the lost child might be held captive by a few dangerous types who didn’t want the child to be found.
“I came here straight from where I was,” he said. “I didn’t have time to pick them up.”
Robert laughed. “You wear two watches and still can’t manage your time.”
“I can manage just fine with my bare hands.”
“Sure hope so.”
“Did you case the place?”
“I got into the yard, tried to peek inside. I couldn’t x-ray the walls. Looks like the window blinds are turned just a bit, letting in a small amount of light, but I couldn’t see through them either.”
“Losing your touch?” Darryl asked.
“I almost lost my patience and went in without you.”
“But Adam told you to wait.”
“Adam didn’t have to tell me a damn thing,” Robert said. “There’s something strange about this. It looks suburban-normal on the outside, but I can’t see through the façade, at any range. The place seems designed like a clubhouse for The Infinite Definite. I’m not stupid enough to go into something like that alone, not if I don’t have to. One foot inside and I could be lost in a box of melted crayons.”
“Nice metaphor.” Darryl squinted at the house, trying hard as he could to see through the walls and windows. He was within range to use his ability, but it just wasn’t working for him. Most interesting thing he saw was a scrawl on the front door, in the center of the wreath: a clumsy-looking “W” and two dots, written in blood with a finger. Some kind of gang tag, probably. Unfamiliar. He assumed very dangerous.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Darryl said. “It’s best we do this together.”
If it were a clubhouse for the Virus-infected terrorists known as The Infinite Definite, Darryl knew if either he or Robert went in alone, there’d be no chance of making it back out alive. He again regretted coming unarmed.
“No assistance from the badges or feds, huh?”
“Nah,” Robert said. “Better things to do at the moment. Besides, you know the boys in blue-n-black wouldn’t do anything but bust in with voices blarin’ and guns blazin’, putting the girl in even more danger. That’s why we’re getting first crack, to get in unseen and unheard. See what we can see, do what we can do.”
“Search warrant?”
“Don’t worry about that. Peter’s got us covered.” Robert flexed the muscles in his arms. “Ready?”
“To get lost in a box of melted wax and colors?” Darryl said with a grin. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
The two turned themselves invisible and left the tree. Darryl adjusted his vision so he could still see Robert as they approached the house. They walked slowly, trying to detect any signs of life or movement inside. Darryl also kept a lookout for passersby, but only as an afterthought. The streets and yards had been empty of cars and people since his arrival.
As they walked up the driveway, Darryl used his hands to signal he was going to circle around to the backyard and Robert should stay up front; they’d communicate via their left-wristwatches until they were ready to make their presence known to others. Most important, once they made themselves visible, they we
re to keep their facial features blurred, for misidentification purposes.
Robert waved at Darryl and positioned himself at the edge of the front yard so he’d have a full view of the front of the house. Darryl went to find a similar position in the back.
Rounding the side corner and scaling the fence, Darryl took in the small backyard’s beautiful landscaping. He’d seen a fraction of it from his vantage point in the tree, but now, standing in the freshly cut grass and steps away from the well-tended flower garden, he was even more impressed. One would think that it was late June rather than the eve of autumn. All of the flowers were in full bloom. Darryl wondered at all of the work put into it, and at all the work put into erecting the eight-foot-high vertical fence, a custom-designed structure marking the boundaries between neighbors’ properties, a wooden obstruction preventing anyone from entering or seeing the pretty, well-kept yard without an invitation. Pity. He agreed the careless shouldn’t be allowed to trample upon a beautiful scene, but he also believed everyone had a fundamental right to bear witness to pure beauty.
He looked at the house. He still wasn’t able to see past the walls, or even through the vertical blinds on the other side of the patio’s glass door, but he could now hear sounds. Nothing distinct, but he at least knew the house wasn’t empty. He touched the screen on his left-wristwatch, communicating the information to his partner. Robert signaled back that something was about to come out of the garage.
Darryl itched to circle back around and meet the threat with him head-on, but he couldn’t risk leaving the back unguarded. He didn’t want to risk having something escape with the treasure.
He touched his watch and sent Robert a message that he should neutralize whatever threat emerged from the garage then use it as an entry point into the house; as long as the garage remained closed, however, he should maintain his position. Darryl would find a quiet way in from the back.
He wasn’t sure if Robert had gotten the entire message. Before he finished sending it, Darryl heard voices from the front of the house: Robert’s and the voices of two others. It wasn’t friendly conversation or innocuous banter. They were fighting.
Darryl muttered a curse as he dropped his invisibility and picked up two of the larger bricks edging the flower garden. One after the other, he threw them at the patio’s door. The glass shattered, and he rushed on through, parting the door’s blinds with his eyes wide open, looking for the girl, and ready to attack anything that made a move against her or him.
He’d burst into the kitchen. Empty. Darryl didn’t move three steps, though, before someone came in from the next room.
The man began to yell something in a foreign language; Darryl didn’t want to wait for the translation. He squinted, concentrating a large amount of infrared radiation in the area of the man’s face. The man screamed and ducked down. Darryl hopped onto the kitchen table, stepped, and jumped again, kicking the burned man in the head on his way down to the floor. He punched and kicked him again before moving into the next room.
Darryl paused and surveyed the room’s furniture. He spotted all the closed and open entrances, saw a bright wide-screen television displaying hardcore pornography, and counted up to three agitated men before the one closest to him took a swing. Darryl grabbed the fist, caught the elbow, and swung the man into the wall. He then swung the man back the other way and released his hold, hoping he’d collide with the other two.
One of the men stopped to shove his oncoming pal out of his way. Darryl pointed two fingers at the other one and flicked his wrist, snapping his fingers. A bright flash of light appeared, momentarily blinding and stopping the man. Darryl rushed forward and punched him on both sides of his jaw before repositioning his body to kick the next man closest to him in the stomach.
A door slammed in another part of the house. Darryl figured there’d been at least one other person in the room who’d escaped through the open entranceway before he had a chance to spot him, and now that person had escaped…Outside, through the front door? Inside, holed up in the room with the lost girl Darryl and Robert had come for? Wherever, Darryl had to get to him quickly.
He ignored the man coming from the kitchen behind him, the man he first attacked. He pushed aside the others who were still standing in front of him and rushed for the open entrance. He couldn’t get out.
Darryl felt an intense burning sensation on the back of his neck and stumbled. He realized what had hit him—a taste of his own infrared medicine—before a fist hit him in the back of the head. He went down to a knee and translated himself into invisibility. No luck. His attackers could still see him. They surrounded him, burning, punching, scratching, and kicking him. After delivering a few swift kicks, one of them ran into the kitchen.
An Infinite-Definite clubhouse, Darryl thought as he withstood it all. Spot on. He hated it when Robert’s instincts were correct. He hated it even more when his junior partner saved him.
Darryl didn’t see it, but he heard the hollers and screams of his attackers. He opened his eyes to find Robert standing in front of him, reaching down with an open hand.
“Bet you wish you’d brought your corresq now,” Robert said.
Darryl thought of the flat, six-inch circle composed of hard metal and designed so that a talented Virus-carrier could use it like a short-range boomerang. He knew the corresq would’ve been helpful but only said, “I would’ve gotten them. Just another second.” He got back to his feet without assistance.
“Can’t afford to waste any seconds,” Robert said. “We’ve got a whole house to search.”
Darryl looked at the other men in the room. All were lying prostrate on the floor or leaning against furniture, holding their eyes.
“What about the guys you met outside?”
“Dealt with,” Robert said. “Come on.” He rushed out of the room.
Darryl began to follow, but the man who’d run into the kitchen ran back out, shouting in an incomprehensible language, brandishing a knife and a brick. Darryl couldn’t get out of the way fast enough.
He grunted when the jagged, heavy object hit him in the shoulder. Darryl winced and instinctually brought his free hand up to cover the area of impact. He’d no time to think to defend himself before the man lunged at him—but there was time for Robert to direct a beam of light from the television into the knife wielder’s eyes. In mid-lunge, the man tripped and stabbed himself in the arm.
“C’mon!” Robert said as he rushed out of the room again. “There’re more in here—find ’em, blind ’em!”
Darryl hated it when Robert shouted instructions at him. That wasn’t the junior partner’s role. But Darryl knew telling him that would do no good; he’d have to reassert his authority by bold actions alone.
Darryl hurried out of the room and stopped behind his partner. They stood in front of the next big obstacle.
A pool table sat in the middle of the room, overlaid with a strange-textured cloth. Scattered billiards resembling giant marbles were on top of it. On the right-hand side of the room was a large mirror, covering more than half of the wall. On the left-hand side were the front door, another door that presumably led to a coat closet, and a halfway open door that led to the laundry room and the garage. On the other side of the pool table, directly opposite them, was a darkened hallway containing the doors to the rest of the house’s rooms.
Darryl knew Robert had hesitated not because of the pool table, but to adjust his sight so he could peer down the blackened corridor with utmost clarity after counting all corners, intuitionally measuring all angles. Robert, the mathematically gifted genius; it was his habit. Darryl didn’t know how Robert did it, but he knew now wasn’t the time to ask. He instead put his vision to use finding the answer to a minor puzzle.
He soon solved it. The walls were lined with a foil-like material, which was what had prevented him and Robert from seeing through from outside. The window blinds were lined with it, too. Yes, it was definitely an Infinite-Definite clubhouse. The foil-like material pr
obably also explained how, despite the low level of light in the house, he, Robert, and the Virus-infected kidnappers were able to manipulate light almost as skillfully as they would’ve been able to if they were outside in the sun.
“I count four doors,” Robert said. “Can’t see beyond them.”
“Of course,” Darryl responded. “Foiled.”
The two began to make their way around either side of the pool table.
“Careful,” Darryl said. “Assume each room has at least three hostiles. You know how they like to pack up a house with too many.”
Robert grimaced. “You smell that?”
Darryl started to reply, but the room suddenly lit up.
He looked toward the ceiling above the table and, before flinching and averting his sight, saw that what at first glance appeared to be an out-of-place disco ball was now a bright, checkered globe. Half of the sphere’s squares were mirrors, while the other half were multicolored windows allowing light from the high intensity bulbs inside to shine through. The pool table’s surface material and the mirror on the wall helped create the thin-air appearance of amorphous, undulating blobs of light, widespread throughout the room.
Darryl and Robert both cursed at the onslaught of heat and lights—the fulfillment of the half-serious prophecy spoken back up in the tree. It wasn’t quite melted wax, but there were plenty of colors, and the experience was hellish.
Both agents screamed when the intangible blobs touched their bare arms, necks, and faces. On impact, Darryl felt and saw patches of his skin burning, bubbling, peeling off, detaching from his body to float off into the air and evaporate. It was no less painful for being an illusion.
Notwithstanding all the confusion, they were too well trained to stay still and succumb to it.
Robert ducked under the pool table.
Broken Angels Page 2
