"Like what?"
He grabbed a nearby newspaper and began to tear at the paper. It seemed like he wanted to talk about something, but didn’t know how to bring it up. Finally he said, "I talked to Logan for a while before he left. He was acting really weird."
She swallowed, forcing the chewed bread to her stomach. "How so?"
He looked at her, his eyes sad. "Look, I know he's your best friend, and I hate talking bad about him, but—”
"Just spit it out already.”
"He threatened me," Ethan said. "He said if I touched you, he'd kill me."
Claire said nothing. A white drop of mayonnaise oozed from the sandwich and onto the paper plate.
"I wasn’t going to say anything," he said, "but I think," he took a deep breath, "that Logan may be Gage. It's the only thing that makes sense."
"No it's not," she said and stabbed at the processed bread with her finger.
"Who else could it be?” He glanced down. “And why are you destroying the sandwich I made you?"
She licked her finger and stood up. "None of it matters. It's either you or Logan, and one of you wants to unleash me."
Ethan stood up too. "Me? You actually think it could be me? I would never, couldn't—"
"Whatever. I've accepted my fate. I can't run. Can't hide. Can't fight. I just wish one of you would tell me the truth."
He took her by the shoulders. "Look at me, Claire. It's not me. I love you."
"I've been hurt by people who claimed to love me before. Those words mean nothing."
Ethan’s eyes widened. "What can I say or do to make you believe me? Please? I would never hurt you!"
Claire searched his eyes. She wanted to believe him, and even though she wrapped her arms around him, she wasn't a fool. But how could she lure Gage out?
Ethan returned her hug, and his muscles relaxed.
She kept thinking, searching for ways to trap Gage. And then a thought occurred to her. "You know," she said, leaning away from him. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad."
She returned to the table and sat down.
"What?"
She picked up the mutilated sandwich and took a bite. "Being unleashed. I could do whatever I want. No remorse. No more pain."
She kept her eyes on him, watching his reaction.
Ethan joined her at the table and took her hand. "You read Bodian’s report, Claire. You may not experience pain, but you also wouldn’t feel love either. For anything or anyone. Do you really want that?"
She shrugged. "Don't you think it would be nice though, not to suffer anymore?"
He let go of her hand and leaned back into the chair, thinking. "Sometimes I don’t like my life. My parents and I don't have the best relationship, but I think that’s normal. I hope anyway. But their weaknesses and mine, only strengthens my love for other things, like you. It’s the bad in my life that helps me to know what kind of man I want to be.” He looked past her, out the window. “This drug of Bodian's, it comes at too high of a price. One should never give up the right to love or be loved. Not only that," he leaned forward and took her hand, "but the drug turns you into something dark and evil. How could you want that?"
"Because the alternative is just as scary."
He shook his head. "You can't mean that."
It was her turn to look out the window. "I don't know if I do or don't. There's so much going on in my head right now. I can't make sense of what's real and what's not."
Ethan touched her cheek tenderly and turned her face toward him. "What we have is real, Claire. I feel it inside me, and I know you do too, but you're scared. Gage has made you question your strength. It's like he's made you forget your purpose or something."
"My purpose?"
"You said it once, but I don't think you realized you said it out loud. You said ‘keep fighting’.”
She looked at him, really looked.
"It was that night at your house, after Gage first attacked you. That’s when I realized how strong my feelings were for you. I was trying to tell you this when I saw you check out. I kept talking, but you were somewhere else. And then you touched your necklace,” he reached up and held the raven pendant between his fingers, “and whispered those words. That's when I realized how much you must've gone through, and how strong you must be to keep fighting." He lowered his hand.
Her pulse raced and she sucked in a great big breath, but when she let it out it was sputtering with emotion. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, trying to keep the tears from falling.
"It's okay,” he said. “This is all going to be over soon. I'm going to find proof that it’s Logan, and then we'll drop him off a cliff."
He smiled like he was joking, but she knew he was very serious.
Chapter 39
THE NEXT DAY Claire didn’t leave the house, despite Kate’s insistence. Kate wanted to go to the beach, lunch, something, but Claire didn’t have the energy for any of that. It was hard to have the motivation to do anything when you knew your future involved becoming a murderer. Or being murdered.
For the first time in many days Claire was alone, except for the patrol car still parked outside watching her house. Logan had just left to go to work, and Ethan couldn’t be at her house for a couple of hours. She wondered what would happen during this time. Gage had said he’d get her another dose. This would be the perfect time for that.
And so she waited. Staring at the wall sweating and wringing her hands.
Soon the doorbell rang. She jumped to her feet, both excited and frightened, and opened the door.
“Can you sign this?” a deliveryman asked. It was no one she knew.
She scribbled her name on an electronic pad. The man handed her a small, five-inch box wrapped in black paper and a shiny black ribbon.
“Thanks,” she mumbled and closed the door.
She stared at it for several minutes before deciding she couldn’t open it inside her house. It just didn’t feel right.
Outside the weather was unusually warm. Or she was just really hot. Claire shed her short sleeve shirt, wearing only a tank top beneath. She headed toward the edge of the forest behind her house and sat down in the grass. The box in her lap felt heavy, almost crushing.
She touched it and jerked away as if she'd been burned. Part of her yearned to rip it open, but a smaller part spoke warnings. She dropped her head back and stared up into the tree branches. The limbs were all connected to each other, each one holding the other up.
She looked down, paused, and then tore off the black paper. With a flick of her finger, the lid fell to the ground. She gasped, not because the contents surprised her, but more from relief. A syringe rested on a thin sheet of cotton. Waiting. A permanent Band-Aid.
Claire picked it up and rubbed it with her thumb. Smelled it. Pressed it to her lips. Such a little thing to make such a big pain go away. She pressed the needle to a blue vein on her arm, and her thumb hesitated above the syringe. It's your choice, she thought and closed her eyes.
Chapter 40
HIDDEN IN THE forest between shadows and old trees, Gage watched Claire. He was glad she had come outside to open it, but seeing her handle the syringe as if it were gold made him all kinds of hot. She had never looked sexier.
Just then the faint smell of leather and chemicals tickled Gage’s nose. He cocked his head and listened closely. There were people, at least a dozen, closing on him fast. He resented the distraction from Claire, but he couldn’t have anyone interrupting her special moment. Gage turned away just as she was pressing the needle to her arm and ran deeper into the forest, toward his stalkers. He would never be anyone’s prey.
It wasn’t long before Gage saw a man wearing a gray, double-breasted business suit with a pink tie standing in a small clearing. Gage slowed and glanced around. He couldn’t see the others, but sensed they were there.
"Do you have what we want?" the man asked. Gage recognized his voice. It was the same man he’d spoken to on the phone.
"Nice ti
e," Gage said. “And by the way, I hate being followed.”
"Hand over Claire’s information.”
Gage reached into his pocket and removed the drive. "Why don't you come over here and get it?"
The man didn't flinch, not even the slightest facial twitch. "Toss it."
"I have some questions for you first. Why do you want this information on Claire?"
"We think it's only fair, seeing how she's our property now."
"Your property?"
"Yes, thanks to you. She's become part of our experiment, and we like to keep our eyes on our assets."
Gage took a step forward, anger coursing through him.
The man raised his hand and said, "Stop. If you come any closer, we’ll shoot."
Gage laughed and continued to chuckle even when several beams of red lights appeared on his chest. “You think bullets will stop me? I’ll spit them back in your face.”
“Not bullets,” the man said. “The cure. A nice big dose that will make your existence become non existent.”
Gage blew air through his nose and tightened his lips. He imagined breaking the nearest branch and throwing it between the eyes of the man in the pink tie. Blood would stain the tie red, a much better color in Gage’s opinion.
But Gage didn’t move, not even bat an eye. The threat of a cure stopped him cold. Instead he said, “Claire will have nothing to do with Bodian. Ever. She's mine."
“She will never be yours.” The man reached into his right breast pocket and removed a vial containing a bluish liquid. "We want you to give Claire this, in addition to what she’s already taken.”
"Why? What's wrong with what I have?"
The man didn’t blink. "It's flawed."
"How?"
"Just give her the injection."
"Or what?"
"Do you really need to ask? Now be a good boy and toss the drive on three, and I’ll pass the vial. Don’t screw this up.” The pink-tied man paused briefly before counting. “One. Two. Three.”
Every part of him wanted to rebel, but Gage found himself tossing the drive. A second later he caught the thrown vial in his hand.
“We’ll be in touch. Stay close,” the man said. He turned around and walked back into the forest.
"I'm not your call girl!" Gage called and cursed.
Bodian thought they were going to control Claire. He cursed again. One thing he'd never allow to happen was for her to be controlled. He wanted her completely free from every emotion and everyone, just like he was until Bodian found him. Once he unleashed her, he just knew she would want to be with him. And if not...well, then he'd love the chase.
Gage’s spine tinkled. He was still being watched. He focused all his senses on the surrounding area trying to determine how many men he was still up against. He detected five; three to his left and two to his right. He could hear them slowly creeping backwards away from him. They were at least twenty yards away. And just beyond them was the man heading north. Gage focused on his scent and memorized it.
As soon as he was sure he was alone, Gage took off running. He pushed himself as fast as he could go, using the forest’s dark shadows to conceal him. He was closing in fast when he heard a car door close. Then another.
Gage slowed when he saw three vehicles through the trees, their engines running. Two black cars and one blue truck were parked on the side of the road. The truck was last in line and its bed appeared empty except for a pair of metal boxes. The driver’s side door was open. A tall man dressed in some sort of black uniform stood next to it, speaking into his cell phone.
When the man turned his back, Gage crouched low and darted through the trees until he was hunched over at the rear of the truck. He quietly crawled into its bed where he attempted to conceal himself between the two chests that, after sniffing them, smelled like guns and ammo. A moment later, the truck door closed and it began to move forward.
Gage tried to remember the turns, thinking it would be important later. He counted out ten minutes before the truck turned left. At about twelve minutes it turned right, then at another ten it drove onto what Gage thought was a private lane based on how bumpy the ride had become.
The truck slowed and Gage heard what sounded like a garage door opening. The truck pulled forward slowly. There was one car still with them. He could hear it moving just ahead. He wondered briefly what happened to the other vehicle.
A shadow passed over the truck. At first Gage assumed they had pulled into a garage, but when he heard the echoing of car doors opening and closing, he knew he was in a much larger facility.
The men said few words to each other as they left the vehicles, their footsteps snapping against concrete. Gage took a chance and slowly rose from his cramped position just in time to see them disappearing through a wide door to his right. The rest of the place looked like some sort of warehouse with large crates stacked into several aisles. He glanced up. The ceiling must’ve been at least thirty feet high. Wide circle lights hung down from metal beams across the top.
To the left of him, high in the corner, he spotted a rotating camera turning in his direction. He jumped from the truck and scurried beneath it. A soon as it passed by, he crawled out and sprinted toward the door. Surprisingly, it wasn’t locked.
He quickly slipped inside; a blast of air conditioning ruffled his hair and cooled his skin. A fluorescent light, sensing his presence, flickered on. The room was empty except for three AR-15's propped against the wall and a set of stairs leading down. And it smelled like rubbing alcohol and lemons, making him think of Bodian Dynamics.
After a few minutes of nothing happening, like guards rushing up or an alarm sounding, he descended the darkened steps. He was careful not to be heard, knowing a surprise entrance would be best. At the bottom, the room seemed to open up, but he couldn't tell how much because of a heavy darkness that felt almost alive. Somehow it reminded him of himself. He shook his head to dismiss the thought. Nothing was like him.
He waited several seconds in the dark, hoping to hear any sounds, but the silence was deafening. Where had the men gone? Just then a light flipped on in the center of the room. It shined down from a high ceiling onto a glass enclosure. Inside was a well-built, blond-haired man in a gray t-shirt and black pants, standing tall and staring right at Gage. Behind him was a glass desk and chair, and on the floor was a single blanket and pillow.
Gage approached him, his steps echoing on the concrete floor in what could only be a massive warehouse of some sort, but he couldn’t see any other parts of the inside of the building. Etched into a metal sign above the enclosure’s glass door read the word "Ares.”
Gage stopped in front of the glass. "What's up, Ares?"
The man, who looked no older than twenty, continued to stare. His stone expression revealed nothing, but the shadow in his blue eyes bled a cruelty Gage could relate to.
Gage knocked on the glass. "How's the weather in there?"
Ares blinked once, then asked, "Who are you?" His voice was monotone, yet held a threatening note.
Gage shrugged. "Technically, I'm an employee of Bodian. Hell, I might even be your boss."
Ares squared his feet beneath his shoulders. "You are not my boss."
Gage glanced around. "What is this place?"
"Home."
"Sucks for you. How do you get out?"
"Through a door."
"You think?” Gage tried a different question. “Who lets you out?"
"The men in charge."
Gage sighed. "Someone screwed with your brain, didn't they? You sound like a dumb robot." He waited for a reaction, some kind of emotional response, but when he didn't get it, he asked, "Where are you from?"
"L.A."
"Why'd you come here?"
"A chance for a better life."
Gage looked around his cramped living quarters. "Your life must've been pretty bad."
"Dr. Prescott helped me."
"Dr. Prescott? Haven't heard that name before. Where can I find
him?"
"He comes to me."
Just then the door to the glass enclosure clicked as if someone had opened it remotely.
Gage looked around. "Did you do that?"
"Looks like you're supposed to come inside," Ares said, his tone dropping.
Gage couldn't ignore the challenge. He opened the door, but before it closed, he broke off the handle to ensure he wouldn't be locked inside.
"Kill him," a deep voice boomed from a speaker above.
Ares took a step toward him.
"Was that man talking to me or you?" Gage asked. "Because I'm pretty sure it was to me."
Ares circled around him. Gage adjusted his feet accordingly, keeping his shoulders square and always facing Ares.
"You're like me," Ares said, his fists clenched tight.
Gage kept just out of reach. "Not even close."
"I have to kill you now," Ares said.
"I'd love to see you try."
Ares lunged for him. Gage tried to move, but Ares caught him around the middle and slammed his back into the glass wall. Gage was surprised by Ares’s strength and speed; it mirrored his own. But Gage wasn't worried.
He raised his arm and pressed it against Ares's throat until Ares was forced to let go. Gage pushed him away and kicked hard into his chest. Ares stumbled backwards, but recovered quickly and kicked high, connecting with Gage's jaw. Gage flew backwards into the glass table. It exploded under the pressure, spraying glass in all directions. The sound was deafening.
Ares jumped at what would've been an impossible length for a normal human being across the room and onto him. His fists repeatedly pounded into Gage’s face, one hard blow after another. Gage felt and heard his bones break and grind against each other. It took all the strength he had to throw Ares to the side and squirm out from under him. He wiped at the blood pouring from his nose. Time to get creative.
Ares was already on his feet and coming for him again. Gage crouched low and ducked when Ares swung. He rolled across the floor toward the broken glass. He took hold of a shard with his right hand but he wasn't fast enough to prevent Ares from slamming into his side, pinning his arm to the floor. Another rain of fists to the side of his head.
Paranormal After Dark: 20 Paranormal Tales of Demons, Shifters, Werewolves, Vampires, Fae, Witches, Magics, Ghosts and More Page 167
