And just like that, it was over.
Chapter 5
As Jeremy climbed out of the back of the SUV, the first thing he saw was his mom racing down the front stairs. She crossed the sidewalk and wrapped both her arms around him just as his second foot touched the ground.
“I’m okay.” Jeremy tried his best to sound calm, but his mom didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled her arms tighter around his back.
Jeremy pulled away. “Really, Mom, I’m fine.”
“Mrs. Cross,” a strong voice came from behind his mother. It belonged to a soldier dressed in gray camouflage. He carried an assault rifle in front of him, pointed down, but still at the ready. The soldier had followed his mom out of the house and down the steps, always half a step behind, but now, as they stood on the sidewalk, he seemed uneasy, his eyes scanning the far side of the street.
The soldier touched the back of Emily Cross’ elbow and spoke again. “Mrs. Cross, we need to go back inside. Ma’am—”
Emily turned with her escort and started back toward the house. Jeremy followed. Behind them, two more soldiers climbed out of the SUV. The first held a submachine gun tight to his chest. Like the other man, his eyes were everywhere, scanning up and down the street. The other soldier, the man in the rear, reached back inside the vehicle and took Kate by the hand, helping her climb out of the SUV. Then all three of them fell into step behind the others and started toward the house.
At the door, another soldier with a buzz cut and gray camouflage stood sentry, the butt of his rifle tucked into his shoulder. For a second Jeremy was struck by the absurdity of it all. He was ready with a quip about needing a password to get inside his own house, but then the moment passed and nothing about the soldiers or the guns or the camouflage seemed absurd anymore. Not today.
They crossed the threshold and crowded into the entryway. Then Emily Cross hugged her son again.
“Mom, I told you, I’m fine.”
Kate stepped forward between the soldiers. “He saved us, Mrs. Cross. He saved all of us. Jeremy’s a—”
His mom pulled away, and her face was hard. “You can’t keep doing this, Jeremy. You can’t treat your life like it’s…like it’s disposable. You’re not your father.”
Jeremy stepped back. “Mom—”
“He left us, Jeremy. He did.” Emily wiped at her eyes. “And you owe me more than that. You owe yourself more than that.”
“Excuse me, Mrs. Cross. Kate. Jeremy,” a low voice came from down the hall, and all three turned to look. Standing there, by the living room, another soldier, this one with gray hair at both of his temples, was waiting for them.
Jeremy glanced over at his mom, and then he stepped forward, holding out his hand to the soldier. “Yes, sir. I’m Jeremy.”
The soldier smiled, and deep crow’s feet appeared at the corners of his eyes. “I know. I’m Colonel McCann, Jeremy. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”
The colonel reached out and shook Jeremy’s hand. “I know you must have a lot of questions. All of you. If you and your mom and Miss Marino care to step into the living room and have a seat, maybe we can make some sense out of what happened today.”
The colonel stepped into the living room. Jeremy, his mom, and Kate followed. They sat down on the couch facing the television, with Jeremy in the middle.
Colonel McCann stood in front of them; he handed an electronic tablet to Jeremy. “Do you recognize this man?”
Jeremy looked at the image on the screen. It was in black and white, and the focus was grainy, but Jeremy knew the picture. It was the man from the mall.
*****
Hot Shot laid sprawled across the marble, and Jeremy was still standing over him, both of his fists clenched, ready for more. There was no need. Hot Shot wasn’t getting back up. The man’s face didn’t look the same—not anymore. It was a bright red smear of blood, and the right cheek looked sunken in, no longer supported by solid bone. His lower jaw twisted grossly away from the rest of his face. He was lying there unconscious; the only way Jeremy knew he was still alive was by the rise and fall of his chest.
Then Jeremy felt the vertigo and the nausea, and then he couldn’t breathe. He kept trying, but he couldn’t get any air. Then he blacked out.
When he opened his eyes again, Jeremy was lying on his back on the cold floor. Kate was kneeling over him. He remembered his first thought, wondering if she had given him CPR again and feeling embarrassed that the answer was probably yes. She helped him sit up, and, for a second, everything in the mall was spinning. Then he took a deep breath and steadied himself. That’s when he saw the soldiers.
They were everywhere, spreading out across the mall like ants, each one in their gray camouflage with their weapons up and ready. Jeremy looked to his side and four of the soldiers had surrounded his attacker. It was hard to see, but they were either zip-tying Hot Shot’s hands and ankles together or they were starting an IV. Maybe it was both.
Then two more soldiers approached him and Kate, their weapons leveled. Jeremy thought they asked for their names, but he saw Kate nodding, so he did the same. Then one of the soldiers grabbed him under the arm, lifting him to his feet, and they were both escorted out of the mall. They were loaded into the back of an SUV.
*****
“Do you recognize that man in the picture,” McCann said, calling Jeremy’s attention back.
“Yeah. That’s the guy from the mall.”
McCann rubbed his chin as he looked down at the carpet. “We know that man, your attacker, as ‘Hot Shot.’”
Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. That’s what he kept calling himself. ‘Hot Shot.’”
“He has plenty of other aliases—probably a new name for every day of the week—but when someone wants him for a job, they go looking for Hot Shot. He’s a hired gun, Jeremy. A trained assassin.”
Jeremy kept staring at the image. “Where is he now?”
“He’s somewhere safe. You won’t have to worry about him again.”
All at once, Jeremy could see the big picture, like a connect-the-dots that wasn’t finished; his mind was racing to fill in the gaps. “If he’s an assassin—he knew my name—in the mall he was looking for me. He had a picture of me!”
McCann looked up. “Because you were his target, Jeremy. That man was hired to kill you. And that’s why you need to tell us everything you remember about last week.”
Emily Cross sat forward on the couch, and Jeremy could hear the panic in her voice. “Last week? You mean about his accident? That man wanted to kill Jeremy because of his accident?”
McCann’s eyes stayed fixed on Jeremy. “Tell us what happened, son.”
Jeremy shrugged. “I got hit by a bus.” He watched the colonel’s face as he spoke, but McCann didn’t change. He made no reaction. There was no smirk of disbelief.
Emily, however, spoke up at once. “You didn’t get hit by a bus, Jeremy. You almost got hit. Dr. Patel told you—”
“No, Mrs. Cross,” Kate interrupted. “I was there. I saw it. Jeremy got hit by that bus.”
“We saw it too, Mrs. Cross,” McCann said. “We studied the footage from the traffic camera, and Jeremy definitely got hit by that bus. He got hit, but he was the one left standing. Those are the facts.”
“That’s crazy!” Emily snapped, sitting back hard against the couch.
Jeremy looked at his mom, and for the first time, he thought he could really see her. He could see the person she was. He could see that she believed everything they were saying—she had to now—but she was too scared to admit it. Scared of what it might mean for her son. More scared of what it might mean for her. And then Jeremy realized what she was—all of her anger and judgment and guilt—it all came from the same place. She was afraid. She spent a lifetime as the wife of Dr. Jonathan Cross. Another lifetime as his mother. Now his dad was gone. What if something happened to her son? What would be left of Emily Cross? Who would she be? And for the first time since his dad died, maybe for the first time ever,
Jeremy felt sorry for her.
McCann turned to Jeremy. “It was your accident that put you on our radar. The only problem is, we weren’t the only ones looking.”
Jeremy’s face twisted. “What do you mean? Looking for what?”
McCann stared down at the carpet. “This is the hardest part for me, Jeremy, because this is the moment where I need to ask for your forgiveness. Forgiveness from all of you, really.”
“Forgiveness for what?” Jeremy’s voice was suddenly flat.
“There’s a way that we do things, Jeremy. A way that we’ve always done things. We have a protocol that we have to follow, and when we learned about your accident, that’s what we were doing. We were following our protocol. The event needed to be verified.”
Jeremy twisted on the couch. “So what are you apologizing for, Colonel?”
McCann took a breath, “Last night we intercepted a communication between your attacker and another group. They mentioned you by name, Jeremy. Of course we thought we could still get to you in time. We were wrong.”
Jeremy kept his eyes fixed on the colonel. “What group?”
“It was the Red Moon. They wanted you dead, Jeremy. They hired that man to kill you today.”
“And you let it happen?” Emily Cross was on her feet, her face scarlet. “Do you have any idea what they already did to this family? What they did to—”
“We know about your husband, Mrs. Cross, but—,”
“We understand that it feels very personal, Mrs. Cross,” a new voice spoke now from the hallway. It was softer and fuller than the colonel’s—a woman’s voice. Jeremy could hear the click of heels on the hardwood floor, and it sounded like she was coming down the stairs.
Jeremy and Kate both turned to look. A second later and the woman appeared in the entryway to the living room.
She was young, maybe only a couple of years older than Jeremy and Kate. She wore a gray pencil skirt cut high above the knee and a matching gray jacket over a pale-blue, silken blouse. Her shoes were black, patent leather heels, and she wore a thin silver necklace with a heart-shaped locket hanging just below her throat. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a low bun, and her soft pink lipstick, arched eyebrows, and dark blue eyes worked together to lend the girl a gravity well beyond her years. In the crook of one arm she carried a tablet, like the colonel’s, and in her other hand she held a red Pinewood Derby car taken from Jeremy’s room—the last car he ever built with his dad.
The blonde woman stepped to Emily, placing a hand on her elbow and leading her back toward the couch. “Please, Mrs. Cross, you have to trust us. The attack on your son was never personal. As far as the Red Moon is concerned, it barely qualifies as a coincidence.”
Emily sat back on the couch, although she was still visibly agitated, crossing her legs to one side and then back to the other.
The colonel spoke again, “Jeremy, Kate, I’d like to introduce you both to Lara Miller. Lara is a civilian contractor attached to our battalion.”
“It’s nice to meet you both.” Lara held out her hand.
Jeremy half-stood, half-leaned forward to shake hands. As they touched, he noticed Lara’s skin. It was soft and cool under his hand—her fingers long and slender. Then Jeremy heard the whispered word, “Seattle.” It was spoken in Lara’s voice, quiet and commanding, but he didn’t really hear it at all. It was more like he felt the word, deep in the back of his mind like seeing an old picture and remembering the day it was taken. Still, it was said in Lara’s voice. He was sure about that much.
Jeremy sat back on the sofa. “What did you say?”
Lara looked up at Colonel McCann and then back at Jeremy, an awkward smile starting on her face. “I—I didn’t say anything. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I know, but you did. You said, ‘Seattle. You didn’t say it, but I heard you,’” Jeremy said.
Lara turned her attention instead to Kate. “Hi, let me try this again. I’m Lara.”
Kate leaned forward to shake hands. “Don’t worry about him. Jeremy hasn’t been himself since the bus. Maybe he’s hearing things now.”
Jeremy shook his head. “Yeah, I hear things when people speak. That’s how it works.”
“She didn’t say anything, Jeremy.” The frustration in Kate’s voice matched his own feelings; he could tell she didn’t believe him. Jeremy wanted to keep going. He wanted to make her understand, but how could he when he didn’t it understand himself? He could see it was a waste of time.
Instead, Jeremy turned to McCann. “Okay, so the Red Moon wants me dead. And it’s not personal. So what’s their problem?”
Lara answered for the colonel. “You know that you’re special, Jeremy.”
“Yeah, I feel like a snowflake.” Jeremy looked sideways at Lara.
She was definitely beautiful, there was no denying that, but right now he didn’t care. He was pissed about the voice-trick in his head, and he wanted her to know it.
Apparently, she was angry too; as Lara answered, her voice held an edge. “You know what I mean. You have a gift. It’s why you can get hit by a bus and walk away without a scratch. It’s probably the only reason you’re still alive today. You’re a genetic anomaly.”
McCann interrupted, “Anoms. That’s what we call people like you, Jeremy. And Lara’s right. You’re special. We’ve been tracking numbers now for a very long time. The best we can tell, Anom birthrate is about one in every 1.5 million people. That means there are only 5,000 Anoms alive today. You’re one of ‘em, Jeremy, and that makes you a very valuable commodity.”
Emily was shaking her head on the couch. “If Jeremy’s so valuable, then why do they want to kill him?”
“They don’t.” McCann answered, “At least, they didn’t. Not at first.”
“The Red Moon learned about genetic anomalies just over a year ago,” Lara said. “We’re still not sure how they figured it out, but somehow they did. Then they started recruiting.”
“But-but—,” Emily was stammering. “Jeremy would never join the Red Moon. My son isn’t—”
“We know that Mrs. Cross.” Lara offered a thin smile. “We know Jeremy’s not a terrorist, especially not with your family’s history. Unfortunately, the Red Moon knows it too. That’s why they wanted to kill him.”
“Think of it like trading pawns on a chessboard,” McCann said. “It’s why they farmed the job outside their group. They picked someone they could afford to lose.”
Jeremy’s eyes went cold as he stared at the colonel. “Like trading pawns? Is that what happened today?”
McCann looked back at him and scoffed, “We weren’t trying to sacrifice you today, Jeremy. We were trying to save you, for Christ’s sake. Maybe you didn’t notice the platoon we sent into that mall.”
“You’re valuable to us too,” Lara added.
“How?” The voice was louder than the rest—almost desperate. It was Kate. Everyone stopped and turned to look at her; she was staring down at the floor. She started again, quieter, “I mean how will you keep Jeremy safe?”
McCann nodded. “That’s a good question, Kate. For starters, we’re going to move him to one of our bases. Someplace secure. Someplace where I know we can keep him safe.”
“No.” Jeremy was shaking his head. “That’s not good enough. What about my mom? And Kate? Leaving now won’t keep them safe.”
“It doesn’t work like that, Jeremy,” Lara answered. “The Red Moon wants you, not your family. The best thing for your mom and Kate right now is for you to be somewhere else.”
Emily was on her feet. “No! This isn’t happening. He belongs here, with his family!”
“Mrs. Cross—,” McCann tried to interrupt.
Emily shouted over him, “You’re not taking my son away, Colonel! They tried to kill him today. They already stole my husband. I’m not losing my son—”
“Don’t you get it?” Kate jumped off the couch, raising her voice to meet Emily’s. “It’s not about you, Mrs. Cross! You don’t know what these
people can do. I know. I saw it. If you keep him here, they’ll kill him! Don’t you understand that? If Jeremy stays, he’s dead.” Kate caught herself; forced herself to stop screaming, and instead she looked down at Jeremy. “You need to say something. Tell her.”
Jeremy nodded, his voice a whisper. “She’s right. It’s not just for me, Mom. It’s for you and Kate. I need to go.”
Emily sank down on the couch, her eyes suddenly hollow. “Then go, but don’t pretend you’re doing this for me.”
“Mom—”
“It’s selfish.” Emily’s voice was thin now. “But you’re doing what you want, so just go.”
“Mrs. Cross—” Kate tried to interrupt, but Emily turned away from her, refusing to the look the girl in the eye.
Instead she perched herself on the edge of the sofa, folding her hands into her lap and staring off toward the far wall.
For a minute no one spoke. They all looked down at Emily. Jeremy knew what she was doing. She was steeling herself—locking herself away behind her infinite layers of propriety. He had seen it before, six months ago.
Then, finally, McCann broke the silence. “If he’s coming with us, Mrs. Cross, then we need to get going.”
“Then go.”
“If you want I can leave you a guard, Mrs. Cross.”
Emily’s voice was barely a whisper now. “That’s not necessary.”
Jeremy stood up from the couch, looking down at his mom. She still didn’t look up at him; she kept her eyes fixed in the opposite direction.
Jeremy looked at the colonel. “If we need to go, I guess I better pack up.”
“You’re already packed,” Lara held out the derby car. “I only needed to ask about this. Something you want to bring, or should it stay behind?”
Jeremy thought about it. He certainly didn’t need an old Pinewood Derby car, and on any other day he could have forgotten it was even in his room, but it was a piece of home—more than that, it was a piece of his dad. He nodded. “Bring it.”
ANOM: Awakening (The ANOM Series Book 1) Page 7
