Wanted

by Ho, Jo

  As Gideon helped me off the plane, Frank tipped an invisible cap. “Good doing business with you.”

  “Give me a day or two. We’ll be by to pick up Derby and Spirit, and we’ll arrange the rest of your payment then,” I said.

  Frank nodded. “Fine. The Missus will take care of your horses until you return.” And with that, he took off.

  Gideon pulled a face at me. “Shouldn’t we have kept him here for our escape?”

  “We could’ve asked, though he didn’t seem all that trustworthy, and I wasn’t inclined to explain what it is we’re doing here.”

  Gideon shielded his eyes and stared across to the building on the horizon. “It’s still a ways away. We’d better get started.”

  Ordinarily, I would have run the distance in a minute flat, no sweat. As it was, all we could manage was a slow, limping shuffle. I’ve always hated having to depend on someone else, particularly someone who had had an issue with me, so I was grateful for Gideon’s matter-of-fact help and attitude.

  Especially as on the inside, I felt like I was falling apart all over again.

  CHAPTER 123

  SULLY

  Some ten minutes later, having crossed the fields, as I was approaching Platinum Industries, a glint of sunlight bouncing off of metal caught my eye. I stopped, staring into a dense crop of trees.

  There was something behind them.

  Going on nothing but gut instinct, I motioned to Gideon and reeled at our discovery when we got there. A jet-black, military-looking helicopter sat before me, a man on the ground next to it. He was wearing the dark uniform of the men who had attacked the ranch. I would bet the house that he was the pilot and that this was the helicopter Chase had hijacked for a ride. Clever girl I thought, smiling grimly. The man on the ground moaned, trying to sit up. Seeing us (and clearly not recognizing us), he touched the back of his head gingerly.

  I took the moment to take stock of the situation. “Is Chase OK? The girl?”

  The pilot blinked at me, confused, as his thoughts tried to collect themselves. “That goddamn brat. She hit me on the head.”

  “Yes. But is she OK?” I had no sympathy for him. Suddenly, the pilot must have realized who he was talking to, as his face turned spiteful. “You killed our men.”

  I glared down at the man, heaping as much heat into the look as I could muster. “You shouldn’t have attacked us first. We won’t go down without a fight.”

  The pilot smiled unpleasantly. “If she’s still alive, she won’t be for much longer. She’s as good as dead.”

  I wasn’t sure if it was the pilot’s smug face or his words that did it. All I knew was that a deep rage was building inside. Seemingly of its own accord, my hand formed into a tight fist that swung at the pilot’s face, full throttle. On connection, the pilot’s head snapped back, smashing into the side of the helicopter with such force that his cheek would be fractured for sure. He fell back, unconscious again. I glowered down at him.

  “No one talks trash about my family. No one.”

  CHAPTER 124

  CHASE

  It was all starting to sink in. Forbes had no intention of letting Bandit go. Ever. And I had just walked him straight into his arms.

  I could kill myself.

  How stupid could I be that I trusted they would help? Didn’t I know better by now? How many more times did the universe need to show me that PEOPLE WERE BAD?

  I looked into Bandit’s intelligent blue eyes, the world crashing down around me.

  “Take them away,” Forbes instructed his men. And just like that, he was done with us. His men advanced towards us, all eyes focused on Bandit. I was merely an irritation, a fly to be swatted away. I didn’t even merit any thought from these men. Forbes turned away, about to leave, when the rage, pain, and confusion burst out from me.

  “But why?!” I yelled after him. Forbes and his men stopped in their tracks. It seemed they had already forgotten about me. Forbes turned to look at me, confusion etched across his features.

  “Why what?” he said.

  “Why are you doing this? You can’t take Bandit away from me without even telling me what this is all for?!” I cried. “That’s not fair!” I knew my last comment sounded like a whiney kid, but that’s all I had right now. I needed to know and wasn’t thinking about my language. Forbes considered my question, then waved at his men to stop. He walked back to me.

  “I’ve spent a lot of money and effort on Alpha. I can’t just give him to you,” he said, sounding almost reasonable. I wanted to kill him.

  “How much money? If you just give us time, Bandit and I can make your money back, I know we can.” I was willing to try anything. Pride was a long distant memory.

  Forbes hesitated, as if reconsidering. “I’ve not seen this level of devotion before. It’s really quite touching. Unfortunately, my life is worth more than this dog’s.”

  I frowned, not understanding. “What do you mean, your life?”

  Forbes opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly his eyes glazed over. One minute, they shone cold and calculating, the next they softened. He blinked in confusion, staring around the room as if he was seeing us for the first time.

  “Do you know where my mom is? She supposed to take me to school, but I haven’t seen her? She told me to wait right here.”

  Forbes’ voice came out like a child. The change was so startling, so sudden, that I found the whole thing super eerie. Then the moment was over. He shook his head as if mentally clearing away a fog.

  “I’ve not seen this level of devotion before. It’s really quite touching. Unfortunately, my life is worth more than this dog’s,” he said. Again.

  “You said that already. Literally word for word. It’s pretty disgusting that you’re going to mock me when you’ve won already. I mean, who does that?” My mouth shot off before I could stop it. I steeled myself, waiting for the slap I could feel was coming. Except it never came. Forbes looked to Dr. Robins.

  “It happened again?” he asked her, quietly — and something else I didn’t expect to hear in his voice — resigned. She nodded. He turned back to me then.

  “Well, yes. I do believe you deserve an explanation. You see, I am sick. A particularly nasty strain of Alzheimer’s runs in my family. You know the disease? It is a progressive mental deterioration that can occur in middle or old age, due to generalized degeneration of the brain, and it is the most common cause of premature senility,” Forbes said. He gestured out of the wrap around window at the experiments below. “Everything I have built, all the billions I have earned, it is because of my mind. I clawed my way up from the bottom, from humble beginnings, but at the moment of my greatest success, I was informed of my condition. Since then, I have dedicated my enormous wealth to finding a cure. Everything you see here, this lab? It was created solely for this purpose.”

  As he spoke, pieces started falling into place. “And Bandit? How is he involved with this?” I asked. Although I was terrified by what the answer could be, I had to know.

  “Alpha is the key. Within his brain lies the potential for a cure… except he ran away.”

  Dr. Robins had been listening quietly, but now stepped forward. “There are many, many cases throughout history of people having suffered head trauma who suddenly became incredibly gifted. Such was the case of one Texan man, who hit his head while diving, and subsequently lost thirty percent of his hearing. However, he also became an astonishing piano player overnight — when he had never even touched one before or learned to read music. It seems the head trauma caused his brain to reorganize itself in such a way that it could now do — at a mastery level — what it had never been able to do before.”

  She gestured with her hands while speaking impassionedly. This was something she believed in absolutely. I’d seen this kind of faith before. Unfortunately, it was with religious fanatics. She had the same bright gleam in her eyes that they did. Seemingly not picking up any of my wariness, she continued.

  “Another case study i
nvolved a high-school dropout brutally beaten by muggers that left him in a coma. When he awoke, he became the only known person in the world able to draw complex geometric patterns called fractals, which is, in layman terms, a never-ending pattern.”

  “I don’t understand how any of this helps your situation.” I directed my question at Forbes.

  “Current treatment for Alzheimer’s involves drugs that may help with both cognitive and behavioral symptoms. Researchers have spent years looking for new treatments to alter the course of the disease, but what if it is the brain itself that should be altered?” he said, eyes feverish with conviction.

  You see how What-If questions are bad, bad, bad?

  I stared at them both. “So this tumor Bandit has, you gave it to him to simulate brain trauma?” Even as the words left my mouth, I understood the insanity of them.

  “Yes,” said Forbes. “We believe that once the brain suffers from trauma — that we control — it will reorganize itself and ultimately defeat Alzheimer’s.” His voice was triumphant, as if just stating this point meant it was a success. I realized in that moment that the man was completely and utterly insane.

  “But that’s crazy! You have no way of knowing this will work, and in the meantime you’re torturing all those poor animals!” I said, unable to stop myself.

  Forbes’s eyes narrowed into slits at the word “crazy.” Thinking about it, I must’ve touched a nerve.

  “I know a simpleton like you won’t understand, however, what I do, I do for the good of all mankind.”

  I ignored the slur he directed at me, desperately hoping that if I could keep him talking, I would be buying Bandit time for a miracle.

  “Well why can’t you wait a while, make sure that this will actually work?” I pleaded.

  Forbes said, “I have begun to experience the latter effects that my mother experienced, prior to her losing her mind completely. We can’t delay this any longer. We must operate now.”

  “Operate?” The word stuck in my throat, along with the fear. Forbes was already losing interest in me, keen to move things along, so I turned to the Doc for help. For someone who was on the brink of a medical breakthrough, she didn’t look too happy.

  “Mr. Forbes, I can’t guarantee this will work, and operating on Alpha will most likely cause him to lose his intelligence. At worst, it could kill him,” she warned, wringing her hands.

  Forbes sighed. “That is something I will have to live with.” At that, his men started towards us again. Bandit bared his teeth, growling fiercely, ears flattened to his head. He pressed urgently at my side, determined to protect me. But it wasn’t me they were after. There were only three feet away from us now and approaching fast.

  Suddenly, Bandit FLEW at one of the guards, savagely sinking his teeth into his arm. The guard screamed, flinging his arm about, trying to loosen Bandit’s jaws from his flesh. Taking his cue, I launched myself at another guard, plunging my fingers into his eyes. He shrieked, staggering back. The tiniest flicker of hope rose in me. Maybe, just maybe, we could get out of this alive…

  But then the guards trained tranquilizer guns at Bandit and fired. Darts stabbed into his flank. He yelped and dropped to the ground. Shaking his head to clear the fast rising fog, he tried to get up onto his paws, but whatever was in the darts was already taking effect. Within seconds, Bandit blacked out. I watched, helpless, as he was carried out, struggling against the guards who now held me captive.

  Forbes frowned at me. “Despite what you may think, I am not a complete monster. I will allow you to watch Alpha’s last moments.” He left, and I found myself escorted into a viewing room overlooking an operating theatre.

  The guards shoved me against the window, and then I was suddenly alone. I ran to the door and tugged at the handle, but it was locked. I pounded my fists at the door, banging and screaming until my hands were throbbing with pain, but it was no use.

  The hopelessness of it all overwhelmed me. I sank to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest, and cried as aI waited for them to kill my best friend.

  CHAPTER 125

  SULLY

  We finally arrived at the infamous building.

  Seeing the glass-fronted entrance, I knew we couldn’t just walk in, not without consequences, so we performed a quick reconnaissance around the building. It was Gideon who had spotted the staff entrance, which, hiding behind a dumpster, we were scrutinizing right then. An old man in blue overalls, a janitor, was leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette. He must have been pushing seventy; what hair he had left was thin and gray, and skin sagged from his arms. Judging by the butt, which was almost done, he’d already been out there awhile. I knew if we were going to act, it would have to be fast.

  “When he goes back in, we need to follow quickly behind. As soon as he turns, we move, got it?” I said. “We’ve got to be quiet. We can’t give him cause for concern.”

  Gideon nodded, unfazed, which I suddenly realized was a curious thing. How was this kid so cool about breaking into this place? I was about to question the boy on it when the janitor threw the cigarette to the ground, stamping it out.

  “As soon as he turns… now!” Gideon darted forward lightly on his feet, sticking close to the janitor, but I had momentarily forgotten about my injury, which slowed me down something awful. Thankfully, the janitor moved slowly with age. We were standing behind him when the janitor swiped his card, but when he looked up from swiping the device, my reflection appeared on the glass in the door. Startled, the janitor stopped short of fully stepping inside, the door held open in his hands. He turned to me, wary to see someone so close to him. I didn’t think but reacted instinctively. Leaning forward, I held the door open for the janitor, smiling in a friendly manner.

  “Here, let me get that for you.”

  The janitor was pleasantly surprised. He smiled at us both, showing large gaps in his crooked, yellow teeth. “Not many youngsters with manners nowadays. Thank you young man.” He shuffled inside, not the least bit concerned he had allowed two strangers into the building. Even I was taken aback at how easy it was to break in. Just goes to show, a little courtesy goes a long way in this world, I thought to myself.

  We followed the janitor inside, watching as the old man disappeared obliviously down a long corridor. I took in my immediate surroundings. No cameras. That was good. No guards either. Either Forbes wasn’t concerned with break-ins or he wasn’t hiding anything. Knowing the answer to that, I almost snorted out loud. Astonished by the arrogance of a man who would conduct unethical experiments out in the relative open like this, I limped along the corridor, keeping my eyes peeled for anything that might help.

  We hadn’t gone far when Gideon whispered to me. “Sully, quick, over here.” I turned to find him standing in front of a closed door. A discreet sign on it said “changing room.” Gideon opened the door cautiously. Once he was sure the way was clear, we snuck inside.

  We were in a large changing room. A row of lockers took up an entire wall. Shower cubicles stood side by side, their glass still fogged from recent use. Beyond those, I could see spotless restrooms. These janitors really earned their keep. Gideon sprinted up to the lockers, tugging on several of their handles, but all were locked.

  “What’re you doing?” I asked.

  Gideon slipped a hand into his pocket, retrieving a lockpick set. “I’m going to help us go incognito,” came Gideon’s reply. I watched in fascination as Gideon slipped the tools into a padlock, twisting them confidently until the lock suddenly dropped open — like my mouth.

  “How the hell did you do that?” I demanded to know.

  Gideon opened the locker. Inside, there was a pile of magazines, some pairs of socks, and a few granola bars. Nothing of interest really, so he moved to the next.

  “Before I lived with Zeb, I, er… learned a few things.”

  “I see,” came my response. I stared at the boy anew, seeing him with different eyes. Feeling my staring, Gideon sighed.

  “Oh come o
n, like Chase hasn’t done worse living on the streets? Not everyone had a home like yours, OK? You should count yourself lucky.” Gideon continued breaking open the lockers so he didn’t see my face reflect the shame I now felt. I had never considered myself lucky, not with the way my relationship with Zeb had deteriorated after mom’s death, but seeing how Chase was living, what she had to put up with, and now hearing from Gideon a similar tale, I vowed never to feel sorry for myself again. From here on, I would be grateful for all I received.

  “Bingo,” Gideon said suddenly, having found what he was looking for — two white labcoats complete with ID’s clipped onto their pockets. He handed the larger of the coats to me. My eyes fell on the ID now pinned to my lapel.

  “So we’ll be fine as long as no one looks down at the thing and sees I’m not Chinese,” I said. I flashed the card at Gideon, who glanced down at the picture of an Asian man in his forties, a Dr. Lim.

  “If anyone gets close enough to read them, we’ll be toast anyway, so I wouldn’t worry about that,” was Gideon’s only reply.

  I had to hand it to him, the kid had a way with words.

  We left the changing room and headed down the same path as the janitor. Rooms veered off every now and then. I caught glimpses of expensive lab gear, steel tables, and high-tech computers. Everywhere I looked, my surroundings reeked of money. Forbes had spent a small fortune on this place. He must mean business, I thought to himself. The thought wasn’t very reassuring.

  We hurried through twisting corridors, going more on instinct than anything else. Every now and then, we would pass a PI employee. It took every ounce of willpower in those moments not to dart away. Forcing myself to continue as if it were my right to be here, I carried on, Gideon by my side. The staff seemed oblivious, focused on their own jobs at hand.