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The Dream Awakened

Page 22

by Leann M Rettell


  “It wasn’t Lother’s fault. I ordered him to do it, as Librarian. He didn’t want to. I hurt him so much, compromising his honor like that, and I can’t undo it.”

  The words struck a chord in Malcolm: undo what has been done. That was what he’d learned in Aelia’s mind. Vincenzo Moretti had tried to undo what had been done. “Halek, I need you to run a deep search of Vincenzo Moretti. I believe he has a connection to the Schneider Corporation. Specifically Jeff Wallace and Tremblay. Let me know what you find.”

  “On it.” Halek handed off the phone to Makir as he flung himself into the task.

  “Aelia, Makir bought a ticket for you to come to Florida, as well.” Malcolm stood as still as a statue, not wanting to overwhelm the still fragile dream thief.

  Aelia looked between Malcolm and Obadiah and then to Makir and back to Malcolm. “Do you think I’m ready?”

  “The singularity inside me says you are,” Makir said.

  Aelia’s slight shoulders shook, but she steadied herself and lifted her chin high in the air, a glimpse of her former self showing through. Malcolm never doubted why she’d always been the Librarian the most. She gave a half-hearted smile. “Do I have time for a shower? I totally stink.”

  41

  Makir held up a sign at the baggage claim while Nimue stood straight-backed, head held high.

  Debbie recovered quickly from the shock of seeing Aelia at the airport with Malcolm, but she’d taken her oath back in the other woman’s apartment to heart. She let the frown fall from her face, and she gave Aelia a polite, if not warm, welcome. When Aelia asked for a moment in the bathroom, getting overwhelmed from the crowds, Malcolm explained as fast as he could what had befallen Aelia, minus her becoming semi-human. After that, the gentleness and kindness Debbie showed toward Aelia was genuine.

  Aelia’s lips turned upward a fraction when Makir let the sign fall to the ground, jogged the remaining distance between them, and embraced her tightly. Malcolm couldn’t hear the soft words spoken between them, but the misty-eyed expression on Nimue’s face told him all he needed to know.

  “Where’s Halek?” Malcolm asked.

  Nimue dabbed at her watering eyes. “Back at the hotel. You all used to say I was obsessed with my work. He’s barely off that infernal computer. Says he’s also erasing all of our electronic footprints, or whatever the term is.”

  “Why?” Debbie stepped away from her quick hug with Makir but remembered herself. “Sorry. We haven’t officially met. I’m Debbie Anderson.”

  “Nimue.” The two women shook hands.

  “Let’s walk and talk. Fischer doesn’t have much time.” Makir grabbed their bags and stalked forward. Malcolm refrained from rolling his eyes.

  Nimue only shrugged as if to say, ‘You know her.’ “Halek said that with everything going on, we have to fall way off the grid. After the breach, our risk of exposure is at its highest ever. Especially if his plans work out.”

  “What plans?” Malcolm stepped through the automatic door and followed Makir across the street to the parking deck.

  “He didn’t say, but he’s readying the safe houses.” Nimue took a seat on the passenger side while Makir loaded their bags. Malcolm got in the back with Debbie in the middle and Aelia on the opposite side. His once companion, the one who pulled him out of his depression when his wife died, sat small and damaged. She jumped at the smallest noises and did little to make herself noticed. Her body had healed, but she remained broken and probably would be for a long time. Malcolm hated the bastards that did this to her.

  Makir paid the parking fee and merged into traffic. The cell phone rang through the SUV. Malcolm peered into the front seat at the screen displaying Halek’s name. Makir pressed the button to answer. “Hello.”

  “Makir, I’ve got him.”

  “Who?” Makir and Malcolm said at the same time.

  “Tremblay.” He gave the coordinates of two unknown streets. “I’m hacking into your vehicle’s GPS system. I’m integrating the coordinates of the facial recognition and street cams.” The screen morphed, turning the upcoming streets into a blue line with a massive red dot at the end.

  “You’ll have to hurry. This guy knows how to disappear.”

  “Oh, goodie.” Nimue tilted her head toward the roof of the SUV. “I knew I should’ve stayed at the hotel.”

  “Should I drive?” Malcolm asked. “I’ve always been better at car chases.”

  Makir locked eyes with him through the rearview mirror. “That was before.”

  Before he’d lost the super reflexes. “Right.”

  “Before what?” Aelia leaned forward, looking frail as a flower.

  “You remember he was having those nose bleeds. He’s not as fast as he used to be.” Debbie patted Aelia’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  Aelia accepted the lie and squeezed Debbie’s hand back. “Be careful Makir. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to Debbie, and I’m guessing Gabriel and I still aren’t healing as fast as we used to.”

  “You got it.”

  Makir slammed on the gas pedal as the sky opened and sent a torrent of rain pelting down on the city. Makir rolled down the window before withdrawing a portable police siren and sticking it to the roof.

  “Should we announce our presence?” Malcolm double-checked his and Debbie’s seatbelts.

  Makir pushed through a small gap between two SUVs. Despite the siren, one driver honked the horn and flipped them off. “We’ll never catch him if I can’t get through this traffic. I’ll cut the siren when we’re about a mile away.” Malcolm sat back, holding on as Makir whipped the SUV around vehicle after vehicle. He hoped they wouldn’t attract the attention of the real police. Less than ten minutes later, Makir silenced the siren, pulled it back inside the SUV, and rolled up the window. “Here we go.” Makir finished closing the distance between the flashing blue dot on the SUV’s display screen.

  “He’s in a black Denali.”

  “Of course he is.” The tires screeched as Makir took a turn too sharply. Up ahead, weaving around the cars, they spotted the Denali at the end of the road. Makir mouth curled in a wicked smile. “Gotcha.”

  She remained a few vehicles behind, following the expensive vehicle. Malcolm leaned forward, drumming his fingers on the passenger seat. “What do we do now?”

  The rain continued to beat down as the Denali came in and out of focus with each swish of the windshield wipers. Without warning, the tank-wannabe veered from the left lane through honking traffic to speed down a street to the right. “Son of a bitch. He spotted us!” Makir jerked the car, hydroplaning. Their SUV came within a hair’s breadth of a parked red corvette.

  “Jesus!” Nimue grabbed onto the “oh shit” bar above the window to prevent herself from toppling into Makir’s lap.

  “Hold on!” Makir followed the Denali as it made a screeching left turn.

  The rain poured harder as if it too was hell-bent on letting Tremblay get away.

  Speeding down the street, Makir pushed down on the gas through the turn. The SUV tipped sideways. Malcolm would’ve sworn they were on two wheels for a fraction of a second.

  “Oh god. Oh god. Oh god,” Debbie, eyes squeezed shut, pressed up against Aelia’s lap.

  The streets they swerved down blurred by. First left, then right, then another right. Makir almost lost him when a car cut them off. Makir side-swiped, barely missing the idiotic driver. “Fuck! Get off the damn road!” She sped past, flipping an elderly woman the proverbial bird.

  “Where is he?” Makir clicked the windshield wipers to go faster, but they were already flying across the windshield.

  “Relax,” Halek said through the speakerphone. “Make a left here, and he’s on the next street.”

  Makir followed. As soon as Malcolm found the Denali, it sped forward, clipping a gray sedan at what had to be forty-five miles per hour. Tremblay didn’t stop. He zoomed past the sedan before the pieces had finished falling.

  “He’s headed out of the c
ity,” Halek said. “There’s nothing but long farm roads. I’m not going to be much help there.”

  “I’m going to die.” Debbie gripped Malcolm’s hand with her eyes squeezed tight.

  “You’re not going to die!” Makir floored past the crumpled sedan with smoke billowing from the engine. She followed the Denali and soon caught up. She tapped the bumper. The Denali swerved and righted itself. She tapped it again.

  This time the Denali couldn’t right itself. It flew off the road onto a large expanse of flat grass. It sped in the opposite direction. “Damn it!” Makir slammed on the brake, spinning the steering wheel and sending them flying into the grass.

  Debbie and Aelia screamed. Malcolm grasped the passenger seat. In a move worthy of NASCAR, Makir managed not to roll them over. Nimue sucked in a breath. “Oh, thank you Jesus.”

  Makir lifted an eyebrow. “Didn’t take you as the religious type.”

  Nimue shooed her. “Focus on driving.”

  Makir laughed, actually laughed. Their rental SUV sent mud flying, but the Denali’s superior engine pushed the vehicle farther and farther away. It swerved, heading toward an expanse of trees. “Oh no you don’t.” Makir’s gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled fingers. No matter what she wished, the Denali kept ahead of them.

  The Denali crashed through a wooden fence, sending pieces flying. Makir skidded left, then right, then left to avoid the showering wood. Ten feet from the woods, a horse galloped into the Denali’s path. It braked and overcorrected. It skidded to the right, turning on two wheels before tumbling over and over and over. Mid-tumble, it slammed roof first into trees.

  Makir applied the brakes, sending them into a sliding stop. Malcolm slammed back into his seat. For long moments, none of them said anything as they stared at the bottom of the smoking black Denali. The only sounds: the tinkling of rain and the swoosh of the wiper blades.

  42

  The singularity inside Malcolm yanked, hard. He undid the seat belt and stepped into the pouring rain. The ground squished underneath his feet as he approached the twisted vehicle. He heard the SUV doors close behind him, but the place inside him guided him forward.

  From somewhere to his left, a stranger’s voice called out. “Is everyone okay? Should I call an ambulance?”

  Malcolm didn’t bother looking up.

  Nimue said just behind him, “I’ll take care of this.”

  The driver’s side of the Denali lay against the ground. Malcolm crossed in front to peer through the shattered windshield. A fractured tree branch penetrated straight through it.

  Tremblay’s bloodied face stared back at him. His hand shook as it ran over the branch punctured through his abdomen. Malcolm, not caring about his hands, grabbed at the broken fragments of windshield, tearing them away in his desperation to get to Tara’s killer.

  Tremblay’s moans of pain were barely audible over the still pouring rain. Makir took over. She freed the glass from around the branch. Malcolm crawled through the shards to lean inside the vehicle. Blood gurgled from Tremblay’s mouth, dark and thick. The black eyes stared back at him pleading, but all Malcolm could see were those same eyes through murky water as he’d held down Tara Booth in her final moments.

  Malcolm reached forward, his skin crawling at what he knew he had to do. He touched the man’s bloody hand and let the singularity inside him rip into the bastard’s mind. Image after image of horrendous acts flowed past, each more sadistic than the last. What the man had done to Tara couldn’t compare to the other atrocities he’d committed, but that wasn’t what the singularity wanted. Malcolm forced it to focus. He pulled and pulled the images of Jim Fischer, what had been done to him, where he was, and finally the last image of him.

  Once Malcolm had what the singularity demanded, he changed his focus from the hippocampus and pre-frontal cortex where short- and long-term memories are formed, and turned his attention to the temporal lobe, specifically the area of fear. He’d witnessed enough nightmares that he had no problems feeding that area of the man’s brain with the scariest images he could dredge up. As a final touch, he sent a jolt of his power into the man’s brain toward the frontal lobe.

  Malcolm released the hold on Tremblay, wishing he could cleanse his brain with bleach, and removed himself from the Denali.

  The man wouldn’t live long, it’d be awhile before the distant sirens reached him, but every second from now until his eventual death would be filled with terror and with Broca’s area of his brain damaged, he wouldn’t have the ability to scream.

  “Well?” Makir asked.

  Malcolm spotted Aelia and Debbie still in their SUV. Nimue chatted with a farmer on his porch not far from the crash. “Take me to that man, quick.”

  Makir grabbed him and shot them into super speed. In a half a second, Malcolm grabbed onto the farmer, diving into his mind, stealing his memory of their presence. He left the memory of the Denali racing through his fields before losing control and crashing. Malcolm released him, leaving the older man in overalls with a glazed look on his face.

  Malcolm turned to Makir. “I know where Fischer is, but if Tremblay doesn’t check in soon, his cronies are going to kill him. There are a lot of them, and they’re heavily armed. Tremblay has a ton of weapons in the back. Grab them, ‘cause we’re going to need them. Let’s get out of here before the cops and EMS arrive.”

  Without another word, Nimue picked him up and got the two of them to the SUV in super speed. At the same moment, or what Malcolm perceived as the same moment, Makir opened the back of the SUV and loaded more weapons than he could count. Before the back door finished latching, Makir had returned to the driver’s side seat. She put the car in gear and peeled out of the yard. “What’s going on?” Aelia asked.

  Malcolm filled her in.

  “The cops are going to know someone else was at the scene. Our tracks are all over the place.” Makir pulled back onto the road while Halek put the next location in the GPS.

  “Doesn’t really matter. We have to get to James. He doesn’t have much time left.” Images of Jim’s bloody face and swollen eyes mixed with Tara’s love and Tremblay’s enjoyment of inflicting pain on others in Malcolm’s mind. The conflicting emotions sent Malcolm’s head spinning.

  “Should we call the cops? Let them know what’s going on? Like the detective?” Debbie asked.

  “No.” All the dream thieves said together. They shared a collective look. They’d felt the wrongness of it as much as, if not more than, he did. If they called Detective Robinson, the man would die. It was as simple as that.

  “Halek, we’re going to need eyes when we get there. What’ve you got?”

  “I’m penetrating through the security cams now. It’d be a whole lot easier with the password.”

  The knowledge jumped out at Malcolm. “IaBMF368.”

  “That’s it,” Halek said. “I’m in. Okay, searching camera footage now. Not good. Not good.”

  “What?” they all said together.

  “There’s about twenty men in there, all heavily armed, and Fischer’s on the sixth subfloor. You’re going to have to blast your way down there. I could help, but I don’t know how I’d get you up-to-date information in time.”

  “Tremblay had some comms in the Denali. I grabbed those. Malcolm?”

  “On it.” Malcolm reached behind him, raffling through the various assault rifles and pistols, noting the bulletproof vests before hauling the comms devices to the front. He worked through Halek’s instructions to get them set to his frequency, passed one out to each of them.

  “Debbie, you’re staying in the car,” Malcolm handed her a bulletproof vest.

  “Gladly, but what do I need this for?”

  “I’m not taking any chances. Aelia, you up for this?”

  The steel settled in her eyes. She too wanted revenge for all these bastards had done. “Absolutely.”

  “Wonderful. Here, you take one, just in case.” He handed over a bulletproof vest and slipped one on himself.
He wished they had helmets too, but he’d take what he could get. “Nimue?”

  The scientist among them sighed and reached one hand back, palm up, waiting for a comm. “Very well. I take it you didn’t get vests for us?”

  Makir shrugged. “We’ll heal.”

  Nimue positioned the comm in her ear. “Yes, well, just because we’ll heal from a gunshot doesn’t mean I’m in the mood to experience one, and I really like this blouse.”

  Makir rolled her eyes. “I’ll buy you a new one.” She pulled the SUV into a parking lot near where Fischer was being held and tortured. No need to announce their presence too early.

  “Ready?” Makir put the SUV in park.

  Malcolm pushed open the back door, ready to kick some ass. “Let’s end this.”

  43

  The car door slammed. The beat of the rain matched the pounding of Malcolm’s heart. Not from fear or anxiety, but of readiness to right some wrongs in the world, to get revenge for all the Taras and the Aelias. Makir opened the back of the SUV. She shouted over the torrential downpour, “You all remember how to use these?”

  One of the dream thieves’ unspoken rules was to always stay up to date on the most modern weapons of the age as well as martial arts. Malcolm hadn’t practiced the various fighting techniques or weapons since his change and had to rely on muscle memory. “Yes,” Nimue, Aelia, and Malcolm said.

  Malcolm bypassed the standard M16s and AK47s and picked his new favorite, a Barrett Rec7 made in the early 2000s. He also grabbed a Beretta and plenty of ammo.

  Makir double-checked them all, ensuring the weapons were loaded correctly, safeties off, the appropriate ammo chosen, and lastly, she ensured the comms worked.

  “We’re ready. Halek, you there?”

  The comms had to be expensive. When Halek spoke, it sounded as if he was right in Malcolm’s ear, and the thunderous rain didn’t impede Halek’s voice at all.

 

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