by Ho, Jo
CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1 - PROLOGUE
Chapter 2 - THE CEO
Chapter 3 - CHASE
Chapter 4 - SULLY
Chapter 5 - CHASE
Chapter 6 - SULLY
Chapter 7 - CHASE
Chapter 8 - CHASE
Chapter 9 - SULLY
Chapter 10 - SULLY
Chapter 11 - CHASE
Chapter 12 - CHASE
Chapter 13 - CHASE
Chapter 14 - CHASE
Chapter 15 - CHASE
Chapter 16 - CHASE
Chapter 17 - SULLY
Chapter 18 - CHASE
Chapter 19 - SULLY
Chapter 20 - CHASE
Chapter 21 - SULLY
Chapter 22 - SULLY
Chapter 23 - CHASE
Chapter 24 - SULLY
Chapter 25 - SULLY
Chapter 26 - SULLY
Chapter 27 - CHASE
Chapter 28 - SULLY
Chapter 29 - CHASE
Chapter 30 - THE MERCENARY
Chapter 31 - CHASE
Chapter 32 - SULLY
Chapter 33 - THE MERCENARY
Chapter 34 - CHASE
Chapter 35 - CHASE
Chapter 36 - SULLY
Chapter 37 - SULLY
Chapter 38 - THE MERCENARY
Chapter 39 - CHASE
Chapter 40 - SULLY
Chapter 41 - SULLY
Chapter 42 - CHASE
Chapter 43 - THE MERCENARY
Chapter 44 - CHASE
Chapter 45 - CHASE
Chapter 46 - SULLY
Chapter 47 - CHASE
Chapter 48 - CHASE
Chapter 49 - SULLY
Chapter 50 - CHASE
Chapter 51 - SULLY
Chapter 52 - CHASE
Chapter 53 - SULLY
Chapter 54 - SULLY
Chapter 55 - CHASE
Chapter 56 - CHASE
Chapter 57 - CHASE
Chapter 58 - SULLY
Chapter 59 - SULLY
Chapter 60 - THE MERCENARY
Chapter 61 - THE CEO
Chapter 62 - ELORA
Chapter 63 - CHASE
Chapter 64 - SULLY
Chapter 65 - CHASE
Chapter 66 - THE MERCENARY
Chapter 67 - CHASE
Chapter 68 - CHASE
Chapter 69 - CHASE
Chapter 70 - THE CEO
Chapter 71 - THE CEO
Chapter 72 - SULLY
Chapter 73 - SULLY
Chapter 74 - SULLY
Chapter 75 - THE MERCENARY
Chapter 76 - THE MERCENARY
Chapter 77 - THE MERCENARY
Chapter 78 - CHASE
Chapter 79 - SULLY
Chapter 80 - CHASE
Chapter 81 - CHASE
Chapter 82 - CHASE
Chapter 83 - SULLY
Chapter 84 - SULLY
Chapter 85 - CHASE
Chapter 86 - SULLY
Chapter 87 - CHASE
Chapter 88 - CHASE
Chapter 89 - SULLY
Chapter 90 - CHASE
Chapter 91 - SULLY
Chapter 92 - THE MERCENARY
Chapter 93 - THE MERCENARY
Chapter 94 - THE MERCENARY
Chapter 95 - CHASE
Chapter 96 - CHASE
Chapter 97 - CHASE
Chapter 98 - CHASE
Chapter 99 - CHASE
Chapter 100 - CHASE
Chapter 101 - CHASE
Chapter 102 - SULLY
Chapter 103 - CHASE
Chapter 104 - CHASE
Chapter 105 - CHASE
Chapter 106 - CHASE
Chapter 107 - CHASE
Chapter 108 - SULLY
Chapter 109 - THE MERCENARY
Chapter 110 - CHASE
Chapter 111 - THE CEO
Chapter 112 - SULLY
Chapter 113 - SULLY
Chapter 114 - SULLY
Chapter 115 - SULLY
Chapter 116 - SULLY
Chapter 117 - CHASE
Chapter 118 - CHASE
Chapter 119 - CHASE
Chapter 120 - CHASE
Chapter 121 - CHASE
Chapter 122 - SULLY
Chapter 123 - SULLY
Chapter 124 - CHASE
Chapter 125 - SULLY
Chapter 126 - SULLY
Chapter 127 - ELORA
Chapter 128 - SULLY
Chapter 129 - CHASE
Chapter 130 - CHASE
Chapter 131 - ELORA
Chapter 132 - CHASE
Chapter 133 - SULLY
Chapter 134 - CHASE
Chapter 135 - CHASE
Chapter 136 - SULLY
Chapter 137 - CHASE
Chapter 138 - CHASE
Chapter 139 - SULLY
Chapter 140 - CHASE
Chapter 141 - CHASE
Chapter 142 - SULLY
Chapter 143 - CHASE
Chapter 144 - CHASE
Chapter 145 - SULLY
Chapter 146 - SULLY
Chapter 147 - CHASE
The End
Coming Soon!
Prologue
Tyler
Cassie
Eve
Marley
Author's Note
About The Author
Notes
By
Jo Ho
Copyright ©2016 Jo Ho
All rights reserved.
Visit the author’s website/blog at:
http://www.johoscribe.com
Follow the author on Twitter:
@johoscribe
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Jo Ho.
This book is dedicated to my other half, Matt, who is quite possibly, the sweetest guy there ever was. He has shown me what unconditional love is and brings joy and silliness to every day. I don’t even mind that my cats love him more than me now.
(I do, really).
I also want to thank Dawn for sticking with me since we were seven years old, showing she had great taste, even then! She has been the biggest cheerleader in my life and I wouldn’t have written this book, or made this giant leap, without her support.
Shout-outs also go to Carol, my buddy, fellow ace writer,
and beta reader, and Marko who designed
the cover and website banners.
Marko can be reached at [email protected] should you guys want any graphical magic.
CHAPTER 1
PROLOGUE
NEW YORK CITY, NY
He had been running now for days.
The hot asphalt stung his cracked soles and the burning sun pounded onto his thinning frame, but he knew he couldn’t stop. He had to get away.
A battered blue truck thundered past and he flinched. No matter how often it happened, he still wasn’t prepared for the rush of sound that roared into his ears. Where he was from, there were no cars. No vehicles of any kind.
He lifted his nose to the wind and welcomed the heady sensation of another new smell to add to his collection. Juicy, with a hint of smoke. He licked his lips, mouth watering in anticipation. Crossing onto the sidewalk, he moved towards the aroma, to where an overweight man in a greasy apron cooked on a stand. Meat patties sizzled on the grill.
H
e hadn’t eaten since the escape, and now his stomach protested painfully. He padded up to the man and gave him a hopeful look, but clapping eyes on him, the vendor grabbed a broom and started shaking it in warning.
“Get lost you filthy beast!”
Red from the heat of the flames, perspiration slid down his wobbly chin and landed with a plop an inch away from the meat. When his target failed to move, he glared down at the optimistic hopeful and--
WHAAM! Steel-capped boots lashed out onto his rump.
The sharp stabbing pain shocked the brown and white dog who had never felt anything like it in his life.
He blinked back tears and howled.
CHAPTER 2
THE CEO
The CEO wasn’t pleased.
Though considered an attractive man by many, The CEO had an eerie way of smiling that never reached his blue-grey eyes. Of slim build, he took great pains with his appearance, which showed in the Saville Row tailored suits he’d had shipped in from London. Custom made, a single suit could feed a starving African nation for a week — not that he ever would, abhorring charity as he did.
Deceptively soft-spoken, The CEO’s calm exterior masked a ruthless streak that terrified men twice his size. Any who failed to do his bidding had a way of vanishing, never to be seen again.
The CEO stood by his desk in the glass office overlooking The Facility. Pouring himself a glass of Cognac, he sipped at the drink, letting the warmth of the liquid slide down his throat.
For all intents and purposes, The Facility was a high-tech laboratory where secretive experiments were being conducted on a daily basis. White-coated scientists rushed around below conducting wide-ranging research, but few knew the real reason for The Facility’s existence. Only The CEO’s most trusted advisors had the key to that secret, which essentially included only two people: the muscle, and Dr. Elora Robins, the brain.
After years of research, they had finally created the perfect specimen, only for him to escape. The CEO frowned, remembering the ineptitude of the staff member who was ultimately responsible. His name was Julio and he was one of the night janitors.
Julio had worked at The Facility for close to twenty years, when its number one focus was genetic engineering and DNA splicing. An illegal immigrant, The CEO had hired him specifically (as he had done with all low level staff) as he knew Julio couldn’t afford NOT to keep quiet about what went on in the lab. As an added bonus, Julio also worked for below minimum wage. The CEO had never understood anyone who paid higher rates to such low dwellers, unless they liked flushing company profits down the drain.
On the night of the escape, Julio had been suffering from a bout of food poisoning. It seemed he’d left out some food at home that had been visited by houseflies. On his fourth trip to the toilets, when the nausea and diarrhea had almost forced its way out, Julio had left a security gate unlocked.
This was all the opportunity that the resourceful dog had needed. Sticking to the air shafts and lesser used walkways, the dog had snuck out of The Facility before the alarm was even raised.
Needless to say, when it was discovered that Julio was to blame, The CEO had had him disposed of. His family are still searching for him to this day.
The CEO fingered his sleeve now as he waited for the call to be patched through. The Mercenary wouldn’t let him down. He knew what was at risk. They had lost the dog for a few days, but a new sighting had pinpointed him in New York City. Feeling the beginnings of a headache, The CEO took another sip of his drink, a three hundred year old brand of Cognac that cost the same as a small car.
Finally Suzanne, his assistant spoke through the intercom.
“Sir, he’s on one.”
The CEO activated the speakerphone and spoke one quiet word.
“Well?”
The Mercenary’s voice was strained.
“Alpha escaped.”
The glass slid out of his hand, smashing onto the granite floor. Shards of glass flew in every direction. Almost immediately, the office door flung open and Suzanne bustled inside. In her forties, she was his right hand and prepared for every eventuality. Including this it seemed. Suzanne had entered carrying paper towels, which she now used to mop up the spilled liquid. He watched her in silence before issuing The Mercenary’s next command in a voice loaded with threat.
“Find him, or don’t bother coming back.”
CHAPTER 3
CHASE
GREENWICH, FAIRFIELD COUNTY
Everyone loved sunsets. Everyone, that is, but me, Chase Ryder, to whom sunsets signalled that yet another hard night was approaching.
In the leafy upmarket park surrounding a man-made lake, wealthy couples strolled hand-in-hand admiring the mottled orange sky. I stirred, waking from my nap beneath a towering oak. Oaks were best as they provided plenty of foliage to protect against sudden showers and prying eyes. There was also the added bonus of load-bearing lower branches that someone nimble could scramble onto should trouble come calling... and you should know, trouble had me on speed-dial.
I stared at my reflection in the water. The face that stared back at me was fourteen but looked younger. A button nose and blue eyes gave the illusion of innocence . My mouth was plump; a little bigger than I’d like, but at least I’d never need collagen. The shoulder length hair would be a glossy chestnut if it weren’t hanging in one big, greasy streak. Despite my current condition, I knew I was above average, but I’m not exactly what you’d call vain, usually choosing to hide my face rather than show it.
My stomach emitted a low rumble. I slipped a hand into a pocket and retrieved the last of my money, a hundred bucks or so. All that’s left of my stash. It might seem like a good amount, but I’d already been on the road for eight months. In that time, I learned to only spend when I absolutely had to. If only I was rich I wouldn’t be in this mess.
I looked around at my surroundings. Yummy mommy’s with Pilates-honed bodies bouncing designer-clad babies on tanned knees. The only hunger they knew was self-inflicted. I compared my figure to that of a passing cyclist, frowning when I realized that the only difference between us was our ages.
Originally from "The Paper City" Holyoke in Hampden County — one of the poorest cities in Massachusetts — I’d come here thinking I would receive more charity in affluent Greenwich, which had seen Mel Gibson and Meryl Streep among its wealthy residents, but these people, so caught up in their self-made dramas, barely noticed me. I’d totalled less here than if I’d stayed home.
I frowned as a shadow fell over the water, obscuring my face. Strange. The shadow didn’t encompass the whole park, just me. Too late the danger signs came into my head as a hand clamped down on my shoulder. The nails were ripped and blackened with dirt. I noticed the smell next, pungent, like raw sewage mixed with a brewery.
“Spare some change?”
I spun around to find myself gripped, vice-like, in the arms of a guy who was maybe seventeen. His glazed eyes focused on the money in my hands. I looked at his arms — yup, mottled with needle tracks. I scanned the area quickly, searching for help, but help wasn’t coming. Note to self: if tree’s are leafy enough to shield you from prying eyes, they’ll also shield the nasty druggie who has you in his grasp.
I froze in terror.
The druggie eyeballed the money in my hand and snatched it from me. He hesitated then, doubt clouding his eyes, but when he realized we were isolated from the rest of the park, they narrowed shrewdly.
“That it, or you holding out on me?”
Without waiting for an answer, his hands started patting me down. Here’s something you should know about me: no one, but no one, touches me without my consent. Instantly a surge of white hot fury broke through the fear. I screamed into his face.
“Don’t you touch me!” and struggled like a wild cat. He was startled but much stronger than he seemed and moved like I was nothing but a mild annoyance. As he reached into my pockets I saw my opportunity and plunged two fingers into his windpipe, slamming the palm of
my other hand under his nose, snapping the weak cartilage there. Eyes wide with shock, he released me instantly.
Groaning in pain, he sank to the ground, hands around his now bloody nose. Fallen, he looked much younger. Not much bigger than me and nothing like the terrifying beast I’d thought he was. I swooped in and snatched my money back.
Shooting a quick prayer to the YouTube gods of Krav Maga,1 I grabbed my backpack and got the hell out of Dodge.
CHAPTER 4
SULLY
ELLINGTON, CONNECTICUT
I tossed aside the thin sheet that covered my body and glanced at the bedside clock’s digital display: 1:47. Those seemingly innocuous numbers filled me with a sudden, though expected, weariness. I stared up at the ceiling and sighed.
Every night, the same goddamn thing.
As I rolled over to stare out of the window, a stray beam of moonlight caught the wedding band on my finger. The ring glinted, a tiny spark in the inky blackness, but I ignored it, the same way I ignored the framed picture that was currently lying face down on the vanity table. I didn’t need to see it to know what it contained; the image was seared into my brain.
Taking care not to disturb the empty side of the bed, I picked up my watch, absently running my fingers over the engraved inscription on the back. “To Sully, with love and thanks from the Bauer family”. The watch was a gift from a grateful family whose beloved cat I had saved. Although my actual name is Jake Sullivan, no one but my father calls me that, and anything that helped distance myself from that tool was a good thing in my mind. I slipped on the watch, grabbed a pair of tracksuit bottoms from the floor, and tugged them on.
Moments later, I jogged out into the dark. With my mussed brown hair, week’s facial growth, and sweat encrusted gym clothes, I knew I wasn’t quite the poster boy this prestigious neighborhood insisted upon, but to hell with it. There were extenuating circumstances.
The barren streets were silent, but in their own way, welcoming. Out here, in the dark, I could let the full range of my emotions run riot.
And tonight it was anger.
They say grief comes in seven stages, but for me, they alternated each night. Days were tough, especially the sunny ones that taunted me with how life could have been. On those occasions, I stayed away from parks and beaches, anywhere that might prove too nostalgic. The memories would flash up, stabbing like a knife in the chest even now, almost a full year later.
