“What about you? You can’t breathe underwater.”
“Well, you’d better swim fast,” Sam said. Then, shouting for the benefit of the woman on the shore, he said, “The ice is giving way!”
The ice splintered. A hole appeared, and Sam and Nemo fell through it into the frigid waters of the lake. Sam had taken a breath before plunging in, but the shock of the cold almost forced it out of his lungs. His fingers clung tightly to Nemo’s sleeve as they sank deeper into the dark water.
He forced himself to kick his legs. The pain was excruciating, but the icy water dulled it somewhat. Together, they swam up until their heads bumped against the ice. The full moon penetrated the inches of frozen water, but just barely, and Nemo and Sam moved through a twilight world of hazy shapes and bubbles as he took them towards what he hoped was the fishing hut.
More quickly than he had expected, his air began to run out. His lungs ached, and he found himself instinctively trying to breathe. His mouth flooded with water. He choked and panicked, pushing a hand against the ice in desperation. Then Nemo pulled him to herself. Her mouth found his, and she blew air into his lungs. He gasped, choked again, pushed down the feeling of drowning. He had air.
Now that he was able to think, he reached out with his technopathy, searching the fishing hut. To his relief, he sensed a battery-operated light inside. He turned it on. Not far away, a small spot of light appeared in the water. He and Nemo swam for it. Then Sam’s head pushed up and through a hole in the ice.
Sam pulled himself out, flopping onto the floor of the fishing hut. Nemo’s head popped up a moment later. Sam knelt and helped pull her through.
“I can’t believe that worked,” Nemo said.
“It almost didn’t,” said Sam. “Thanks for the air. Now let’s hope that woman believes we drowned.”
“I guess we can always go back down and swim the other way if she does,” Nemo said. She looked around. “Think there are any blankets in this thing?”
Sam indicated two thick wool sweaters and two pairs of overalls that were hanging on pegs beside the hut’s door. “How about those?” he said.
Nemo took one of the sweaters down and started taking off her wet clothes.
Sam shut his eyes. When he opened them again a minute later, Nemo was dressed in the sweater and overalls. She had also found a pair of boots to put on. All of it was too big for her, and she looked like a kid playing dress-up as a fisherman.
“Now you,” Nemo said.
“I can’t get my pants off with this thing there,” Sam objected, pointing to the arrow that still protruded from his calf.
“That’s what this is for,” Nemo said, holding up a fishing knife she’d found.
She cut Sam’s pants around the arrow. She removed his boot and sock and slid the severed portion of his pants off.
“Now for the fun part,” she said. “I saw this in a movie once. It might hurt a little.”
It hurt a lot. Sam ground his teeth together to keep from screaming as Nemo sawed with the knife on the arrow’s shaft. Then she used her hands to break off the barbed tip. Finally, she yanked the arrow backwards through his leg. But it came out cleanly, and there was very little blood. Nemo took a piece of cloth she found in a bucket and inspected it. “Not too many fish guts on here,” she said, wrapping it tightly around Sam’s leg and knotting it.
She helped him take off the rest of his clothes, until he was down to his boxers. Then she discreetly turned around while he took those off, too, and wrestled himself into the overalls and sweater. He smelled like a pile of trout, but he was dry and warm.
“Now what?” Nemo asked.
Sam eased aside a curtain and carefully peered out the window. There was still no sign that the woman was coming after them. Next, he checked the pockets of his wet pants. His phone was gone, probably lost during the fall into the lake. But McKenna knew where they were. He would send help. What was important was that Yo-Yo and Rena had (he hoped) gotten away and that he and Nemo were safe for the moment.
He sat down on a wooden box. “Now, we wait,” he said.
CHAPTER NINE
SIX
THE MOUNTAINS OF NORTHWEST MONTANA
SIX OPENED HER EYES.
“Welcome back,” said a voice she didn’t recognize.
She tried to rub her eyes, but her hands were held down by straps of some kind. So were her ankles. There were also restraints around her legs, waist, and chest. That’s when she realized that she was lying on her back on a metal table. Over her head, harsh fluorescent lights buzzed like angry gnats.
Suddenly, a face hovered over hers. She recognized it as belonging to Drac, the man Dennings had used to remove a kid’s Legacy in Texas.
“You’re even uglier up close,” she said, her tongue thick in her mouth.
Drac grinned. “At least I didn’t remove your sense of humor along with your gifts,” he said.
“What are you talking about?” said Six.
“You won’t remember, of course,” Drac replied. “I find it’s easier that way.”
“You’re full of it,” said Six. “You didn’t remove anything.”
Drac laughed. “You’ll find out for yourself soon enough,” he said. “But I assure you, I did. Although I must admit, I had doubts that the procedure would work on one of the originals. Human Garde are much less developed, as you know. Weaker. It’s easier to work with them.”
Six still didn’t believe him. Without saying anything, she turned her head to see what was in the room. A tray of medical instruments stood nearby. She fixed her attention on it and tried to levitate it. Nothing happened.
“Go on,” Drac said. “Try your other abilities. Go invisible.”
“I’m not doing tricks for you,” Six growled, although she did try to use her Legacy. Again, nothing happened.
“Really, I’m surprised no one has done this before,” Drac said. “Once I figured it out, it was really quite easy.”
“How did you do it?” Six asked him. She remembered the strange colored lights that had surrounded the girl Drac had performed on in Texas.
He looked at her and seemed to think about the question. “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you,” he said. “Not everything, of course. But the general idea.” He disappeared, returning a moment later and holding up a small metal device. “This is the key,” he said.
Six stared at the harmless-looking thing. “What does it do?”
“Do you know what causes your Legacies?” Drac asked.
“The Entity,” said Six. “Everybody knows that.”
Drac nodded. “The Entity, yes,” he said. “I should have asked, do you know how it does it?”
“It just does,” said Six. She hated that she was talking about this subject with someone like the grinning, oily Drac.
“‘It just does,’” Drac repeated. “Actually, the answer is much more scientific than that. I imagine there are others studying this as we speak, looking inside the brains of those of you who have been fortunate enough to be blessed with these gifts. Trying to find ways to duplicate them, make them available to anybody who wants them. Or to the highest bidder.”
An image appeared in Six’s mind: A teenager strapped to a table, as she was, a girl with her head shaved and a portion of her skull removed. Were there people really experimenting on kids with Legacies? She didn’t want to believe it, but she remembered what the Mogs had done. There were humans in the world who were just as twisted. People who would do anything to try and get power for themselves. Thinking about it, she was filled with rage, and struggled against her restraints. Again, she was helpless to break out of them.
“In simplest terms, the Loric energy creates changes to the pituitary gland,” Drac continued, sounding as if he was teaching a science class. “I don’t yet know exactly how this results in a person developing Legacies, but I’ll figure that out. What I do know is that this device will interrupt pituitary activity and render a person incapable of accessing the energy.�
��
“You put one of those in me?”
“You’ll probably have a headache for a while,” Drac said in answer to the question.
Six did have a headache, but she wouldn’t admit it. “Sounds like a lot of bullshit to me,” she said.
“And yet, here you are without your Legacies,” said Drac. He looked at the device he held in his fingers. “It’s science, not magic.”
“Dennings said you gave Yo-Yo back his Legacy,” Six said.
Drac nodded. “You saw for yourself that I did,” he said. “There’s no point in lying about it.”
“So, whatever you did is reversible,” said Six.
Drac frowned. “Oh, did I get your hopes up?” he said. “I’m sorry. Yes, the process is reversible. In your case, though, I’m afraid it doesn’t really matter.”
“Why’s that?”
“Mmm, that may be one secret too many to share,” Drac said.
“What are you afraid of?” Six taunted him. “That your procedure didn’t really work? If it did, you don’t even need these restraints to keep you safe from me.”
“True enough,” Drac said. “All right, then. As I mentioned, you’re the first of the original Garde I’ve had the chance to examine. This is a unique opportunity to perform tests on your pituitary gland and harvest samples of its secretions.”
Six let his words register. “You’re going to milk me like a cow?” she said.
“A crude way of describing it, but yes,” Drac confirmed.
Six had a flashback. She was in a Mogadorian cell. Being tortured. Feeling helpless. Then, she still had her Legacies. Now, she had nothing. Her heart sank.
“How’s the patient?”
Jagger Dennings leaned over her. “Hiya,” he said.
“Go to hell,” said Six.
“Didn’t remove her attitude, I see,” Dennings said. “What about everything else?”
“She’s powerless,” Drac replied.
“Good,” said Dennings. “The boss will be happy to hear that. When do you think you’ll have a working serum, or whatever you call it? Something to give people Legacies?”
He sounded excited and hopeful. Six wondered, was he thinking he’d be one of the first to benefit from Drac’s promises? Did he think he could get an injection and have a Legacy just like that? Suddenly, things made a lot of sense.
“Oh, not for some time yet,” Drac said. “There needs to be more testing. Refinement. We can’t rush something like this.”
He’s stalling, Six thought. She could tell by the tone of his voice. But why? There was something he didn’t want Dennings to know. Like maybe this device of his isn’t working as well as he says.
“Well, I’ve got some more subjects for you,” Dennings said. “Cutter’s bringing them down now.”
Six heard the sound of footsteps, and then voices as more people entered the room. When she turned to see Yo-Yo and Rena standing there, their hands cuffed with plastic zip ties, the feeling of hopelessness inside her deepened. Her eyes met Rena’s, and the girl’s reflected the same thing.
“They tried getting out on the ATV,” Dennings told Drac. “Too bad they didn’t know about the stop strips Cutter put out on the trail.” He chuckled, as if the whole thing was a big practical joke.
“What about the other two, boss?” Cutter said. “They’re still out there somewhere.”
“Helena will take care of them,” said Dennings.
“Or they’ll take her out,” Rena said defiantly. “Didn’t you see what we did to her friend back at the barn?”
“I saw it,” Dennings said. “But Helena’s smarter than Bill. She’s the dangerous one. She won’t get caught like that again. Your friends are probably already dead.”
Six wondered what had happened back at the barn and why Sam and Nemo had gotten separated from Yo-Yo and Rena. A momentary panic overtook her. Were they dead? She forced herself to calm down. Unlike Dennings, Sam was someone she couldn’t imagine anyone taking out, at least not very easily. If he was alive, he was her—their—best hope. And if he wasn’t . . . she couldn’t even think about that possibility. He was alive.
“Anyway,” Dennings continued. “If they get anywhere near this place, we’ll know.”
“What do you want me to do with these two?” Cutter asked.
“Stick ’em in separate cells,” Dennings ordered. “Make sure there’s nothing in the girl’s. And I mean nothing but concrete floor and walls. I don’t want her making any kind of doll or whatever. Keep those fireproof mitts on Sparky’s hands so he can’t light up.”
“Why not just shut them off?” Cutter asked.
“Because the doc here wants to do some experiments on them,” said Dennings. “Don’t worry about it, all right? Just do what I tell you.”
“What about that one?” Cutter asked, pointing at Six.
“She stays where she is,” said Dennings. “For now.”
Cutter hustled Yo-Yo and Rena out. Six bristled with renewed anger as she heard the teenagers being pushed around.
“Guess you know how Superman felt when he got around kryptonite,” Dennings said to Six. He leaned against the table and looked down at her.
Six didn’t answer him. She was too busy thinking about everything she would like to do to him if she wasn’t strapped down. With or without her Legacies, she would teach him a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget. If he was still alive when she was done with him.
The sound of a cell phone ringing came from Dennings’s pocket. He reached in and pulled it out, looking at the screen. He ran his finger over the surface. “Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”
Someone on the other end spoke for a minute. Then Dennings said, “All right. We’ll be ready.”
He hung up. “Mr. Bray is coming,” he said to Drac.
“Here?” Drac said. He sounded surprised.
“He’ll be here in an hour,” said Dennings, who also sounded a little tense. “And he wants to see a demonstration of the serum.”
“But I told you it—it isn’t ready yet,” Drac sputtered.
“Well, you’ve got an hour to get it ready,” said Dennings. He turned and walked out of the room, adding as he went, “Don’t screw this up.”
After Dennings left, the change in Drac’s mood was palpable. He slumped into a chair and rubbed his forehead. The smirking attitude of before was gone, replaced by a nervousness that practically radiated off him.
“Who’s Mr. Bray?” Six asked.
“Shut up,” he barked. “I’m trying to think.”
“Whoever he is, he must be important,” Six continued.
Drac ignored her. He stood and started doing something at a counter that ran along one side of the room. He picked things up and put them down, talking to himself the whole time. “It’s way too soon,” he said. “I told them that. Can’t be rushed.”
Cutter, returning from wherever he had taken Yo-Yo and Rena, walked in. Noting Drac’s behavior, he said, “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Drac snapped.
“Mr. Bray is coming,” Six informed Cutter, knowing it would upset Drac.
Drac whirled on her. “I told you to shut up!” he said. He picked up a syringe and stalked over to the table. Pressing it against the crook of her arm, he started to slide the point beneath her skin. Then he paused and pulled it out again. “No,” he said, seeming to speak more to himself than to Six. “No. I don’t have time to do that.” He threw the syringe across the room. “I need more time!”
“Calm down, doc,” Cutter said to him. “You can’t let Mr. Bray see you like this. He won’t like it.”
“I know that!” said Drac. “I know that,” he repeated in a less-hysterical voice. “I just need to think.”
“Think fast,” said Cutter. “I’m going to go upstairs and get ready for him.”
Left alone with Six, Drac ignored her completely as he frantically prepared for the arrival of the mysterious Mr. Bray. Although Six attempted to get him to talk, he ignored he
r, busying himself with pulling out vials and needles and other things Six couldn’t see. Eventually she stopped trying to engage him and shut her eyes, attempting to relax. She didn’t have a plan, didn’t know what was coming, but she wanted to be as prepared as she could be.
Not long after, Cutter returned to the room. “He’s here,” he said.
“He’s early!” Drac said. “He’s not due for another twenty minutes.”
“Tell him that,” said Cutter. “He just showed up with that kid who can teleport. He and Dennings are on their way down now.”
Right on cue, Dennings’s voice could be heard as he came downstairs. “I think you’ll be really pleased,” he said as he entered the room.
With him was a man who looked anything but pleased. Short and big-bellied, he had thick black hair and equally black eyes. Like a shark, Six thought when he turned and looked at her. Mr. Bray.
“Drac here has been—”
“That’s the Loric girl,” the man said, interrupting. He came closer to Six, eyeing her as if she was an animal in a zoo. His expression was impassive, unreadable. Six half expected him to touch her, but he kept his hands at his sides.
“Have you harvested from her yet?” the man asked.
“No,” Drac answered uneasily.
“Why not?”
“She only arrived earlier tonight,” said Drac.
“Prep her,” said Mr. Bray.
“But—” Drac began.
“I said prep her,” Mr. Bray repeated in the same even tone.
“We have a serum derived from some other subjects,” said Drac. “Maybe—”
Mr. Bray’s face tightened. “I want her,” he said. “Don’t make me ask again.”
“All right,” Dennings said. “All right. We’ll get it for you. Cutter, why don’t you bring Mr. Bray upstairs and make him comfortable. This will take a little while.”
“How long?” Mr. Bray asked.
“About two hours,” Drac answered.
Mr. Bray turned away from Six and left the room, followed by Cutter.
“Can you really do this in two hours?” Dennings asked Drac in a low, worried voice.
“I don’t know,” Drac admitted. “I can try.”
The Legacy Chronicles Page 8
