The Devil Within (The Viral Superhero Series Book 5)

by Bryan Cohen

  The Presidential employee scrunched up his face. "I'm trying to concentrate."

  Dhiraj stared harder. "And I'm trying to figure out if you're going to kill us."

  The President placed his hand on Dhiraj's shoulder. "It's done. Nobody else is going to die today."

  The door opened with a groan and Ridley ushered them inside. Dhiraj hesitated, but the beefy guard grabbed him by the arm and forced him in. Ridley shut the vault door behind them and locked it with a spin of the wheel.

  The lights came on in shifts as soon as they were locked inside. There were rows of high-end computers and monitors that put the lair to shame, millions of dollars worth of equipment and design sitting in front of them. Dhiraj would've been impressed, if he weren't absolutely convinced he'd be dead in less than a minute.

  Dhiraj surveyed every nook and cranny of the room in record time. As he hoped to find some flaw in the closed room that could work in his favor, President Blake let out a big yawn and stretched out his arms like a jungle cat who'd just had his daily prey. Then the commander-in-chief slowly sank into the largest chair in the room.

  Dhiraj closed his eyes and let his mind drift to Jennifer. His last few encounters with her were foggy at best, and he tried to focus. He remembered the break-up, and how much his heart ached afterwards. He recalled wanting desperately to talk to her in the hallways at school, while the invader in his mind kept him stoic and staring straight ahead. He felt the weight of the dart gun in his hand and saw himself firing at her... and connecting.

  His body went numb. "I thought power would make me stronger than money has. I had everything I needed, and I wanted more."

  The President nodded. "There's nothing wrong with wanting more."

  Dhiraj started to pace. "All I needed was love. All I needed was her."

  President Blake laughed. "Just my luck. Locked in here with a lovesick puppy dog." He leaned in. "Let me tell you something, Dhiraj. Nothing is permanent. Not the money. Not the power. Not the Presidency. And that's why every so often, you need to make a deal with the devil."

  Dozens of suppressed memories slammed into Dhiraj like a rain of bullets. Only now did he understand the death he'd witnessed.

  "You asked him to do this. You had him kill all the people in that room."

  The President looked appalled. "Not all of them! Ridley and yourself are very much alive. The world leaders, members of Congress, my wife... yes, they're dead."

  Dhiraj couldn't help but turn away from the monster of a man. It made his stomach revolt just looking at him. "You're disgusting."

  "You're not seeing the bigger picture. The world can't make progress nowadays. We're all cross-purposes. If one man could pull all of the strings-"

  Dhiraj felt his stomach pinch even tighter. "And what does killing your wife have to do with that?"

  "I know you're too young to understand, but when you have a chance to control your partner's mind, you do it." The grin spread across his face. "It's almost a bigger deal than killing all the kings and prime ministers."

  Dhiraj turned to Ridley. "And hearing all of this, you're going to let it happen?"

  The Secret Serviceman starred straight ahead. "My only job is to protect the President."

  Dhiraj rubbed at his face. "That's some Nazi-level justification there, Ridley. I'm sure your mother would be proud."

  Ridley face ticked slightly. "Would you like me to do something about him, Mr. President?"

  Blake stood up. He was about to say something that justified the smirk on his face when a loud bang sounded against the door to the room. The noise reverberated off the walls and the lights flickered.

  The President's smirk was gone. "What is that?"

  Another deafening boom thundered in, and Dhiraj started to back away. Ridley fiddled with a computer screen and brought up the hallway feed on one of the monitors.

  "Dear God."

  Before the President could react to the image on the screen, the door flew off its hinges and zipped through the air like a frisbee. Dhiraj barely ducked under the massive metal disc as it flew by and slammed into a bay of monitors. It wedged itself in the opposite wall with a mighty crunch, sparks cascading down the now-useless technology.

  Dhiraj didn't think his heart could beat faster until he looked up from his close shave. His blood pressure went above the red line when he saw the force of nature standing in the doorway.

  Wearing a light blue dress and cracking her knuckles was the First Lady, a trail of crimson leading down from where the bullet had entered her heart.

  If that isn't marital bliss....

  She stalked forward with her high heels slung over her shoulder. Dhiraj scuttled to the side of the room and looked back at Ridley and the President. He almost found a bit of joy at seeing the horror on Blake's face.

  The most powerful man in the U.S. took a step forward. "Dear. Let me explain."

  He retracted his step as soon as the dark soul version of his wife moved toward him. Dhiraj had always liked the First Lady. She came off as compassionate and interesting on TV. He didn't have to ask to determine if any of those qualities were left.

  Dhiraj continued circling toward the door, keeping as much distance from the blood-stained dark soul as possible.

  She took a deep, satisfied breath. "After all we've been through together, you had me killed. You deserve a fate worse than death."

  The President was about to speak before she cut him off. "But I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to find you."

  Dhiraj made it to the room's threshold when he saw Ridley lose control of his mind to the General. The man's eyes lost their life and went glassy. He drew his gun and aimed it straight at Blake's head.

  The President put up his hand. "Wait! We had a deal!"

  The First Lady laughed. "It's not personal, dear. It's politics."

  Dhiraj ran as far and as fast as his feet would take him. He reached the other end of the hallway when he heard the bullet reach its target.

  35

  Natalie pushed through the heavy doors to the compound and let the warmth of the afternoon sun hit her. The light made her feel about as satisfied as the killing had. She wondered if tripping and falling on her sword would actually make her feel something. The engine of her car hummed in the dusty parking lot.

  Erica matched her stride for stride. "What's going on out there? Do you know if the Summit–"

  "I know as much as you." Natalie sheathed her sword. "The lair had already been ransacked when I got there. I spent the whole day figuring out Dhiraj's tracker thingies he made us wear."

  Natalie tried to make eye contact with Erica, but the guilt forced her gaze away. She looked for anything to take her attention and noticed her trunk was open.

  "Stupid piece of junk car."

  Jennifer touched Natalie on the arm. "That was pretty amazing out there. Even for you."

  Natalie shook her off and slammed her trunk shut. "Why were you in there? What the hell is going on?"

  Jennifer was about to speak when her eyes darted back to the compound. A limping dark soul dragged his bad foot behind him. The injured leg was bloody from top to bottom.

  Natalie pulled out her sword. "No witnesses."

  She started her sprint, but Erica grabbed her shirt and wrenched Natalie back.

  "Wait!"

  Natalie growled, but she understood when the figure came into view. It was the sheriff formerly known as Jennifer's dad.

  Natalie gripped the hilt tighter. "Do we like him now?"

  As Jennifer nodded, Natalie slid the weapon back into its holster.

  "Fine. I won't kill him, but we need to go." Jennifer ran to the sheriff's side and helped him the last few steps. "How'd you – you're hurt."

  "Bullet-proof vest. Didn't help much on the leg, though. Exact same spot they shot me in Philadelphia."

  Natalie opened the door for the pair. "That wasn't you. Don't bleed out on my seats."

  The sheriff groaned as Jennifer helped him in, and Erica
took shotgun before they sped away.

  Natalie tuned out Erica and Jennifer while they tended to the sheriff. Instead, she looked at the road laid out before her. The speedometer crept over 80 miles per hour. She didn't know where she was going, but the velocity helped to fade the images in her mind.

  Erica grabbed Natalie's leg. "Nat, you have to turn the radio on."

  She complied and a quick switch of the station by her navigator spread the President's voice throughout the vehicle.

  "My fellow Americans, an inconceivable act of terrorism has occurred in the nation's capital and throughout the country. A group calling themselves the dark souls have infiltrated society, taking over the minds, bodies, and hearts of your deceased loved ones. They could be your neighbors and they could be your friends."

  Natalie rolled her eyes. "Out of the loop much?"

  Erica's face sunk.

  "What is it?"

  She shook her head. "The President isn't the President anymore. He's a dark soul."

  The dark soul on the radio continued. "The National Guard has been dispatched to all 50 states, and until they have the situation under control, I'm putting martial law in effect. Curfew will begin in one hour."

  Natalie jerked the wheel to the side and came to an abrupt stop on the road's shoulder. "Are you trying to tell me that the dark souls own the White House right now?"

  The Sheriff let the words out through gritted teeth. "It's more complicated than that."

  Natalie instinctively reached for her sword. "Simplify things for me."

  Jennifer sighed. "Ted's still in the Realm of Souls. The General took over and he killed all the world leaders at the Summit."

  Natalie's brain derailed, a sharp pain pounding in the front of her forehead. The late-night rendezvous with Ted and the sneaking around behind Travis' back hadn't been cheating with her ex. She'd been fooling around with the enemy.

  Natalie's pain shifted to nausea and she barely got out of the car before she heaved. What little she'd put in her stomach the last day came out in a pathetic pile. Her hands shook as she went down to her knees.

  Before she knew it, Erica was by her side with her arm over her shoulder. "He messed with all of us, Nat. He used the books to mimic Ted's powers. For all I know, he screwed with our heads just enough not to realize the truth."

  Natalie wiped her mouth with her sleeve. "I cheated on Travis."

  Erica's eyes showed a mix of surprise and confusion. She gripped Natalie tighter. "We all make mista–"

  "With Ted." Natalie wanted to puke again. "Not Ted, but the General. I'm not sure if that's worse."

  She looked up to examine Erica's eyes again, but the protector was focused on the road ahead.

  "This isn't the time. We need to get back to town. Can you still drive?"

  Natalie nodded as Erica helped her to her feet. They shared a silent moment that seemed to last an eternity. Natalie couldn't tell if Erica wanted to hug her or cut her. They broke the silence and returned to their seats.

  Jennifer looked into the rear-view mirror and met Natalie's eyes. "Are you okay?"

  Natalie put the car in drive and once again gave the speedometer a heart attack. "None of us is. Where should I go?"

  Erica gripped the ceiling handhold so hard, Natalie wondered if she'd rip it clean off of the car. "Let's see what we can salvage at the lair. Nat, do you know where Travis is?"

  Natalie took in a deep breath. She finally understood what it meant when she saw her boyfriend's body sprawled out on the court. "He found out about the General. Tried to tell me a few days ago. The General got to him first."

  The silence spread through the car like smoke, filling the vehicle and making Natalie's throat close up tight.

  They passed the road sign for Treasure.

  Erica was the first to speak. "It wasn't your fault. The General is a monster."

  Natalie's heart hurt. "The worst part of it is, I think he did it because he was jealous." Her eyes clouded up. "He wanted to kill that little part of me that wasn't in love with him – the part I gave to Travis."

  As the car rounded the bend to cross into the city limits, a National Guard blockade came into view. Wooden gates, three cars, and about a dozen guardsmen blocked their path into town, and Natalie had absolutely no chance of stopping in time.

  Natalie's pulse raced and she reached for the emergency break.

  With lightning quickness, Erica pushed hard on Natalie's leg. "Gas it!"

  The car sped up, tapping out over 100 miles per hour as it neared the roadblock. The guardsmen dove to the side as Natalie's front hood smashed through the wood and slammed into the space between two of the vehicles. Somehow, the car made it through the blockade, but none of them had accounted for the steep decline immediately afterward.

  Natalie tightened her hands on the wheel. "Hold on!"

  The car went airborne and Natalie felt weightless. For a second, she didn't see Travis' dead body or the General's Ted-like face beside her. She was pure adrenaline as the car finished its flight, crashing down at the bottom of the hill. Pain shot through her neck as she fought against the steering wheel.

  Jennifer screamed. The car spun. Natalie failed to get it under control as they careened through the storefront window of Main Street's only coffee shop.

  36

  Ted was mentally and physically exhausted as he tore through another cloud on the way to Treasure. He attempted to clear his thoughts, which usually allowed him to fly faster. It wasn't working this time.

  "How could I have been so stupid?!"

  He thought back to the post-Summit spectacle. Dozens of dark souls rose with the bodies of statesmen and kings. His first instinct was to wipe the part of their minds controlled by the undead invaders. After just two successful attempts, he felt like he was going to collapse. He figured the torturer must've had a lot more practice. As a stop-gap measure, he used his powers to send the dark souls into a coma-like state. He contemplated how long the effects would last when he picked up a series of orders given by the new President of the United States.

  The words curdled in his mind. "Keep Treasure secure before you burn it to the ground."

  Ted's ribs reminded him they needed attention, and he tried to ignore the sensation. Picking up speed at the Pennsylvania border, it wouldn't be long before he arrived home.

  If it's still there.

  One mystery that plagued him in his airborne quest for velocity was the location of his best friend. In the split second before he'd tossed the General through a wall, he'd seen Dhiraj, but the millionaire in the making was gone when he returned. Between the rising horde of dark souls and the order to take down Treasure, he'd had only a moment to search for Dhiraj's thoughts. When he didn't hear them, all he could do was hold out hope and fly away.

  "I'd feel it if he were dead. He's not dead. Erica's not dead. Natalie and Treasure are still standing." He flew past a very confused bird. "And maybe I'll win the lottery too, while I'm at it."

  Ted zipped past the edge of Treasure and slowed his momentum. He saw a broken blockade into the city and the path of the car that had caused it. Tire marks skidded into the coffee shop, which now featured an empty space where the front window used to be. The vehicle inside was covered in glass. Its trunk seemed to have popped open from the impact. A dozen National Guardsmen approached the entrance.

  Ted landed behind the squad in the middle of the street. Half of them turned around on their own, but a flick of his wrist spun the others as well. They aimed their guns at his chest.

  Ted wondered if he'd run into anyone that day who wasn't trying to kill him. "Put 'em down."

  The troop leader took a step forward. "Don't be fooled, boys. We've been told there's a Ted Finley-lookalike on the loose."

  "Aw come on, guys." He put up his hands. "Can't you tell I'm the better looking one?"

  The gang all took a step in sync.

  Ted peeked over the top of them to see if anybody stirred in the coffee shop. He spied the
car but no movement.

  Natalie's.

  "Look. I'll make this quick, but you guys should really tell me if you're humans or dark souls."

  The squad leader huffed. "Ready. Aim–"

  Ted moved his arms like a conductor, and the weapons bent and twisted in their hands. With another swift movement, the long automatic weapons shifted behind the men and took their wrists with them. From handgun to handcuffs in three seconds flat.

  He snapped his fingers, causing the squadron to trip over their own feet and fall to the ground. They struggled against the makeshift handcuffs.

  Ted grinned and pushed his hands apart. The men skidded across the ground, creating a path for him that led right into the shop.

  "Sorry, folks, but I'm a little late for a meet–"

  Without warning, the car's engine roared to life and went full reverse out of the shop. Ted's powers kicked in at the last second, sending him inches above the top of the car before it could hit him. As he flew just out of reach, he heard two guns go off from inside the shop. One shot whizzed by his ear. The other would've hit him square in the neck if he hadn't stopped the bullet in midair.

  Ted righted himself and hovered above the chaos. The path he'd cleared had saved the guardsmen from getting run over, though they still seemed pretty pissed off about the handcuffs. Emerging from the car was a bloody, bruised Sheriff Norris. Down below, Jennifer emerged with two guns in hand. She looked pretty angry as well. He glanced around for the others.

  They'd better still be alive.

  "Psst."

  Ted looked up.

  Through the second story window in the apartment above the shop, Erica LaPlante raised her eyebrows before leaping through the air. He was too stunned to stop her as she grabbed hold of his waist. The surprise took them straight to the ground, and while Erica took the brunt of the blow, Ted's ribs and fractured hand sure didn't appreciate the impact.