Shattered Focus (A Paranormal, Urban, Fantasy Novella) (Focus Series Book 3)

by Alex Bostwick

  But billions?

  When your crimes can only be described as “mass genocide,” there’s really no way to feel about it. It’s simply too large, too utterly catastrophic to comprehend that level of egomaniacal evil.

  “These assholes want to kill six and a half billion people?”

  “Not at first, Nora. Peter said that that was ‘impractical.’ He was talking about a project that would span generations. That he and his friends were going to be among the first to take the ‘critical steps in saving the planet and the human race.’” He provided air quotes, and snorted at the ludicrous ideology.

  “Christ,” Rick said.

  “Tell me about it. I thought they were just fucking with me at first, but they looked so freaking sincere about it. Peter was the worst. There was something in his eyes I didn’t recognize, something I didn’t like. Then they asked me what I was willing to give up for the greater good. It was pretty damn clear that they were really asking for my humanity. They practically started an initiation ceremony right in the middle of the bar. I told them that I needed some time, think it over. I’m pretty sure they knew that I wasn’t going to sign up with their whacko genocide club when I said that. Either way, I got the hell out of there as fast as I could. I didn’t even go home, I went straight to a hotel. Started figuring out what I was going to do next.” He tilted his glass all the way back, draining the brandy.

  “And?” I prompted, after a minute or so of silence. “What were you planning on doing?”

  “Leaving. I was going to bail.” He spread his hands in front of him. “I’m not going to lie; I’m a coward. I had no idea who to trust, if I even could trust anyone at all. What was I going to do, run to Gabriel? How do I know if he’s in on it or not? There was just no way to tell one way or the other, and the same went for everyone else in Focus. If they could get to Peter like that…” He shook his head sadly. “We were good friends in school. I transferred in late; they didn’t pick up on my abilities until I was sixteen. Late bloomer, I guess. But Peter never treated me like a new kid. He helped me come to terms with my new future.” He smiled. “I was originally going to be a dentist. Then I accidentally froze the punch bowl at a girl’s sweet sixteen party, and everything changed for me. It was hard, realizing that literally everything I thought I knew about the way the world works was wrong. Peter helped to make that transition easier. I never would have believed that he was capable of anything like this until yesterday.”

  “So what happened?” I asked.

  “I guess they found out that I didn’t report for duty yesterday morning, and figured out that I was going to run. They probably regretted giving me the hard sell like they did, because they revealed way too much for them to be comfortable with leaving me alive and talking. I took a cab to my house this morning, and started packing a bag. They showed up before I could finish. I don’t think they were watching the house, because they didn’t panic when they didn’t find me, and gave up after an hour or two of searching the place. Lucky for me that I was too lazy to fix the drywall in that closet. I had planned on staying there until nightfall, when you guys showed up.” He refilled his glass with more brandy from the decanter. “And now you know everything I do.”

  “I don’t get it,” Rick said. “First, I get the whole tree-hugging thing. I mean, he’s in Water, he loves the environment, all that crap. Fine. But how do you go from stopping the polar ice caps from melting to genocide?”

  “It’s the final solution,” I said. “If you look at it all on paper, in terms of just balancing an equation, it makes sense, in a sick, twisted way. What doesn’t track is how the fuck these agents went from helping people to be willing to sacrifice them for the greater good. We’re part of fucking Focus for Christ’s sake! Humanity’s Servants. That’s what it says above Gabriel’s office. This ends justifying the means bullshit is not in our DNA. It runs counter to literally everything we’ve been taught since we were kids! Nick, you know what that school was like.”

  “I’m not so sure. Nora, you didn’t go to the Focus Academy, and I was only there for half of my junior year until graduation. With the stuff Peter said about this being a project that would span generations…”

  “Oh,” I said, realizing the implications. “Using the school to teach the next generation of students… God. It’s a culling.”

  “You mean that…” Rick’s eyes widened. “God, that makes a twisted kind of sense. Reduce the population by millions of people, teach the next generation to do the same, and the next, and the next…”

  “What good is population control if it doesn’t stay controlled?” Nick mused. His eyes were a little glassy from the brandy. “They can bring the human race down to five hundred million over the course of twenty attacks, and if they’re spread out over a few decades, the survivors might not even catch on to who’s really killing them.”

  Every time I think that I have a handle on the scope of the impending catastrophe, someone manages to terrify me even further. It was just so… big. It was larger than anything I had ever heard of. Multiple generations of these fanatical… eco-terrorists—I guess that’s what you’d call them, if their motivation is actually the preservation of the environment—each striking the population of the planet in sweeping attacks that result in millions of lives snuffed out… it was a fucking holocaust.

  These maniacs needed to be stopped now, before they could get the ball rolling. And for that, we needed help.

  I stood up abruptly, knocking my chair back a few feet. Nicholas jumped in his seat, spilling some of his drink.

  “We need to see Jason. He needs to hear this, directly from Nick.”

  “Jason? Jason Butler, the head of Fire?” Nick asked, his tone hopeful.

  “Yeah. He’s not missing, he’s working with us.”

  “Oh. Well, I feel a little better if he’s involved.”

  “So do we. I need to call him.”

  The two men nodded, refilling their glasses once more. I yanked my cell phone out of my pocket, and dialed the number Jason gave me, praying he hadn’t decided to ditch the phone early.

  “Ms. Tress,” he answered, his voice rumbling and gruff.

  “Sir, we need to meet. He’s alive, and he has information.”

  There was a pause for a few moments before he responded. “Good. Is there something we can act on?”

  “I think so, sir. He has a few names. They might lead us to the rest. But we have to act fast.”

  “Understood. Let’s meet. Not at your place, we’d be too exposed.” He thought for a few moments. I could almost hear the gears turning in his head. “There’s an empty warehouse a little ways down the highway. I’m nearby. I can secure it by the time you get there.” He gave me a few close landmarks until it sparked my memory.

  “Okay. We can be there in an hour.”

  “Good. And… Nora?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Be careful about trusting Nick. If he’s alive, it’s because he’s either working with them or he’s cunning. Cunning people tend to be backstabbers.”

  “I have Rick to watch that, sir.”

  “Good. Look out for each other. I’ll see you soon. Oh, and I’m ditching this phone now.”

  “Got it, sir. See you.”

  I hung up the phone, and turned to find both men standing, draining their glasses. Rick rolled his shoulders, grunting as the joints popped and cracked.

  “We heard, babe,” he said.

  “Okay. We should get moving.”

  “Before we do that,” Rick said, “does anyone have to use the bathroom?”

  I stared at him.

  “What?” he asked. “We’re going on a road trip. We can’t be stopping just because someone forgot to go before we left.”

  “Rick, one of these days, I’m going to kill you.”

  He tossed his head back and laughed. “No you won’t. I’m too pretty to die.”

  Nick raised his hand tentatively. I glanced over at him. “Nick, are you seri
ously raising your hand? Is this third fucking grade?”

  “I, uh… I just wanted to know where the bathroom was,” he said sheepishly, his cheeks turning red.

  Rick started laughing uncontrollably.

  “This is what we have to work with. This is the group of people that’s supposed to save the fucking world.” I pinched the bridge of my nose in mock frustration. “Down the hall, Nick. Last door on the right. Make it fast.”

  “Thanks,” he muttered, slinking past me.

  Rick wiped tears out of his eyes as he brought his guffaws under control.

  “You’re an idiot,” I told him, but I couldn’t help but start laughing too.

  “Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” he reminded me, still chuckling.

  “You’d better be.”

  “Just you try and get rid of me.”

  “I’ve been trying. You’re like a freakin’ barnacle I can’t scrape off.”

  “Please. Mollusks wish they were like me. I’m more like athlete’s foot.”

  “You do tend to cause a burning sensation, but it’s not between my toes. You’re mainly a pain in the ass.”

  He stepped close to me, and wrapped me in his arms. I yielded for a moment, and gave into the embrace, melting against his body. He squeezed me tightly, his support, his rock solid presence reassuring. I buried my face in his strong chest, inwardly moaning in despair.

  What are we going to do? How can so few of us manage to stop something as big as this?

  Rick stroked the back of my head gently, understanding my wordless despondency.

  “We’ll figure it out, darlin’. We’ll find a way.”

  “How?” I asked, unable to keep the tremors from my voice.

  “Same way we always do things: together. Win or lose, kiddo, I’ll be there with you.”

  My eyes welled up against my will, and I angrily wiped them away as I stepped back. I jabbed one finger in Rick’s chest, hard. “You’d better be. Or I will kick your ass so hard.” I stood up on my tiptoes and planted a firm kiss on his mouth, breaking it off quickly. We didn’t have time for that.

  Rick merely nodded, then glanced to his right at something. I turned my head to see Nicholas standing there, his hands awkwardly in his pockets.

  “Uh, hi,” he said. “Ready to go when you are.”

  I nodded, but then stopped short, remembering what Jason had said about trusting Nick. I glanced over at Rick. He was oblivious, idly checking his fingernails for dirt.

  “Okay. But there’s one thing that we need to take care of first,” I began.

  “And you said my bathroom trip was stupid,” Rick joked.

  “Not that, Ricky,” I answered. Rick looked at me sharply. More than anything else I could say, he hated being called “Ricky.” It was the only surefire way to grab his attention. I caught his eye, and tilted my head significantly toward Nick.

  Rick looked over at him, and then glanced back at me questioningly. “You’re sure?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  He nodded. “Okay then.”

  He practically leapt across the room, taking Nick completely by surprise. Before the Water agent could react, Rick had wrapped his arms into a full nelson, pinning him securely. Nick yelped in distress, his glasses falling to the floor in the struggle.

  “Hey, what the fuck? What’d I do?”

  “Shut up,” Rick said. His eyes closed for a brief moment, and his left arm began shimmering, the familiar ripples undulating beneath the surface. As I watched, dumbfounded, his skin grew scaly, an ugly, mottled greenish yellow. The fingers on his hand clumped together, and soon enough, what was unmistakably a snake’s head had replaced it, complete with eyes, flickering tongue, and venomous fangs.

  What.

  The.

  Fuck.

  Sometimes, my boyfriend freaks me the hell out.

  Slowly, disturbingly deliberate, the snakehead opened its maw, and placed its teeth against Nick’s jugular. Venom dripped down the length of the fangs, small drops gathering and falling upon Nick’s collar.

  “Jesus, Rick. I said I wasn’t sure!” I said.

  “If you’re wrong, he’ll get an apology and a pat on the head. If you’re right…” He left it unfinished.

  Rick was perfectly capable of killing when it came to protecting people. Especially me, I think. I had seen him rip the throat out of an Air agent who had tried to kill me. He was a wolf at the time, which makes the throat-ripping sensible, I supposed.

  Still. Brutal.

  “Okay, just, you know, be careful. I don’t want to hurt him.”

  “Nora,” Nick said carefully, making sure his throat didn’t bob against the snake fangs. “Please tell me what is going on.” He kept his voice calm, but I could see him sweating, his brow dripping as his hands shook.

  “I’m going to check your pockets, Nick. We can’t afford to take any chances. The stakes are just too high.”

  He blinked rapidly, sweating even more profusely. Finally, after several long seconds of apparent internal debate, his closed his eyes and sighed.

  “It’s in my right pocket, Nora. Please, before you kill me, give me a chance to explain.”

  My pulse pounding in my ears, I reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, prepaid cell phone. I flipped it open, went to recent calls, and found that one was made a few minutes ago to a number I didn’t recognize. It had been saved in the memory as “Treacherous Douchebag.”

  I stared into Nick’s eyes, silently threatening him. I think he got the message.

  “Talk.” I couldn’t keep the anger out of my voice.

  “I don’t want to help them. I can’t fucking stand what they’re doing. But they have my parents. They found me when they came looking at my house, Nora. They said that someone was going to come looking for me, and that if I didn’t tell them who came, they would kill my folks. They knew that someone was working against them, someone with Jason. Apparently there were a few dead agents last month, and not all of them were killed by fire.” Tears of frustration began streaming down his face. “I’m sorry, Nora. Christ, I’m so sorry. It’s my mom and dad. They’re all I’ve got, damn it.”

  “How much did you tell them?” Rick asked. His snake arm hissed menacingly, which would have been funny under different circumstances.

  “I told them that you had picked me up, Nora, and that we were going to meet Jason at the warehouse. They don’t know about Rick. I tried to keep as much from them as possible, I swear to God.”

  “Shit,” I muttered. “Jason’s probably already at the warehouse. We have to warn him.”

  I pulled the phone out of my pocket, hurriedly dialing the number. The line rang twice before an attractive and annoyingly calm female voice informed me that the line had been disconnected.

  “Damn it! He already ditched his phone. We have to get down there, Rick.”

  “What about this one?” he asked, glowering at Nick.

  I thought about it for a few seconds. Finally, I came to a decision.

  “Hold him. I’m going to check him,” I said.

  Then I closed my eyes and concentrated.

  Spirit magic works similarly to the other branches of magic. Water, Fire, Earth, and Air all serve as the energy source for the forces wizards employ externally. A Fire agent needs an open flame—or at least a significant amount of ambient heat—in order to toss around fireballs, for instance. Conversely, an Air agent would be useless in the vacuum of space. We take that energy source and mold it, shape it, and make it behave in ways that average humans can’t.

  Spirit magic has the same requirement, but the source is the spirit, or the soul. Practitioners are able to tap into the range of human emotions, the power of our hearts and minds, and use them to affect the hearts and minds of others. It’s the reason they make such effective diplomats, and why they tend to be charismatic people.

  It also allows you to invade a person’s thoughts. It can let you do a long line of spooky things, from creati
ng illusions to more devastating uses. A Spirit agent can dominate someone’s mind, almost completely rewrite who they are as a person, and force them to obey. It’s against Focus’s policy to use Spirit magic that way, unless it is in self-defense or the defense of others. Not that I particularly cared what Focus’s policies were at that moment, but I wasn’t going to do that anyway.

  Instead, I marshaled my will, reached deep within my soul, and, with some effort, began sifting through Nick’s mind. I searched his thoughts—most of them panicked, terrified ones—for signs of further deceit. I went as deep as I could go—some agents have training against Spirit magic, and know how to defend themselves by obfuscating their true intentions behind walls of misdirecting thoughts. Nick hadn’t had any training, as far as I could tell, but I wasn’t going to take any chances.

  I found two things in Nick’s thoughts worth the effort. The first was an overwhelming sense of shame. His guilt over betraying me, Jason, and Rick wasn’t an act. He was more ashamed of his Judas impression than anything else the guy had ever done.

  The second, almost eclipsing the shame, was fury. Nicholas was pissed at the Unfocused, outraged that they had had the audacity to take his parents, furious that they had leveraged his affection for them into turning his back on his principles. Most of all, he was filled with rage at the very notion of what they were planning to do. Nick wanted to help people, and the idea that these miscreants wanted to wipe out millions and billions made him want to go on a bloody rampage.

  That could be useful.

  I opened my eyes.

  “Nick, I can see that you’re telling the truth. What you did is a piece of shit thing to do, and I don’t forgive you. But I’m going to give you a chance to make up for it, starting tonight. You’re coming with us.”

  “To Jason?” he asked.

  “Yes. We need to get him out of there. He’s too important. And if there’s a fight, I fully expect you to unleash some fucking hell.”

  “Okay,” he said. “But… my parents…”

  “We’ll worry about them later. The important thing is tonight. Jason’s in immediate danger. Do you want to help, or should I have Rick finish you off right here and now?”