Phaze

by S. C. Mitchell

  Joel stood and cleared his throat. “Way more than I wanted to know. Is he here?”

  Heather nodded. “Downstairs waiting for you.”

  “And you’ve been filled in?” Joel was already on his way to the door.

  Heather waved him on. “Go, yes. We’ll figure this out.”

  Chapter 3

  With Kayla safely in Heather’s hands, Joel headed for the control center. It was time to get some damned answers. The smell of fresh coffee permeated the air, as his blurry-eyed team shuffled in to take up their stations. He had to give them credit; two a.m. was a hell of a time for a wakeup call. Thank goodness someone thought to put on the coffee pot.

  Chris turned and nodded toward him, then pointed at the Cray displays. “Bucky, what the hell is going on?”

  “I wish I knew.” He captured Chris’s stare. “And listen, wonder-butt, call me Bucky one more time and I’m posting your ass to my Facebook wall.”

  “One freakin’ mistake . . .” He shrugged, then his face sobered. “What do you need from me?”

  Joel pointed to the screens. “You’ve seen the security videos?”

  “Most of ‘em. I’m routing the rest into my internal memory.”

  “Good. Watch ‘em while we patrol outside. I want full spectrum scanning for anything we can still find around the compound, out to about a hundred yards.” Joel led Chris out the north-side exit. “You go left, I’ll take right.”

  Moonlight washed the lawn, hills, and trees surrounding the headquarters building. He uploaded the full-range scanning program from the Cray to his internal memory, and opened his eyes wide to absorb light in the full spectrum. Heat, radiation, any power signature in proximity would be detected and identified. Animals—squirrels, birds, the occasional rabbit—glowed around him for a few seconds, then blipped out of sight as the computer discarded their presence as normal. It was the abnormal he was looking for. Anything out of place.

  A small, incessant glow to his left drew him to a still smoldering cigarette butt. Someone had been out here. Scouting, scoping out the building?

  A text came in from Chris.

  Z-Bot: I found a couple cigarette butts, still warm, but not much else.

  Joel: Bag them and get them up to the labs for tests.

  Joel found three more cigarette butts right where he expected them, a small hill on the east side. Yeah, their man smoked, a lot, and he’d been casing the building for quite a while. Did that help?

  Mary could run a DNA scan on the cigarette butts when she got in, so maybe.

  The spot offered an unobstructed view through the crystal-clear windows into the lighted hallway on the third floor. Anyone standing here would have seen Ben pass by on his patrol. The glass was bulletproof. That should have been enough protection for the building’s inhabitants.

  Internally he cued up the security footage from this side of the building alongside the feed from the hallway. He noted a slight, shadowy movement at this spot just moments before the black-clad figure appeared out of nowhere in the hallway.

  “God damn it.”

  Line of sight teleportation. This bastard didn’t need to break in. He only needed to see in.

  Security note: Replace all external windows with bulletproof, mirrored glass.

  His next problem was less easy. He needed to know why they’d targeted Kayla.

  The third-floor laboratories of the Xi Force Headquarters building ran numerous, cutting-edge experiments. Heather’s cybernetics research was next-gen. Mary’s nanotech trials yielded some exciting new information. Bob Ryan’s gamma radiation tests held a lot of promise.

  So why the hell did someone break into a government installation full of top secret scientific research to steal files from a fashion designer?

  Yes, Kayla had some exciting new textiles she’d been playing around with, but she’d been publishing most of her results and even licensing her patents to companies that wanted to work with them. There wasn’t anything secret about her work. Only her latest experiments, the ones with Mutalon fibers, were still under wraps until she perfected the formula. Then that would probably be openly available as well.

  She’d been very public with her research. Maybe too public, from the looks of things. But it was just fabric research. Was this fashion industry espionage?

  Joel shook his head.

  There were powers involved. In all his digging into people with enhanced abilities he’d never encountered anyone with even a hint of being able to teleport. And if it was off his grid, it probably meant Ghaim was involved.

  Joel moved out, continuing his scan of the grounds.

  The Ghaim Group started out as a legitimate research and development company, delving into the possibilities of super-powered humans. A private corporation that mirrored the job Joel had taken on for the FBI. Joel targeted them long before the rumors of corruption, industrial espionage, and criminal activity rose to the surface. He had people, undercover in the organization, but they hadn’t been able to move up in the hierarchy.

  The group’s recent activities, the ones that attempted to steal Heather’s Zombiebot program, drove the group underground. But they were no less active or dangerous.

  And this whole mess smacked of Ghaim involvement.

  ~ ~ ~

  Kayla had been good, staying in bed a full five hours while boots tromped the hallway outside. She might even have slept for a time.

  Heather took her vitals, ran some tests, then sat with her for a while. She didn’t remember Heather leaving, so she must have dozed at some point.

  A dusky pre-dawn illuminated the horizon when Kayla finally pulled herself to her feet. Dressing quickly, she scampered down to the control room for any updates to the situation. The Xi Force Headquarters was on lockdown and Pike’s Rangers stood in positions around the building, inside and out.

  Next stop, the third-floor labs, to see if Heather had anything for her. The smell of coffee drew her into the break room on her way to Heather’s lab. Dark, fresh brewed goodness found its way into her hand before she joined Heather, who sat at her desk clicking away at her computer keyboard.

  “So?” Kayla placed her hand on the desk, leaning in, her gaze traveling between Heather’s face and the computer display.

  “You know it’s far too early for any conclusive results to be in on your blood tests. I also have a full analysis running on that chemical soup you collected from the floor of your lab.” Heather raised an eyebrow as she craned her neck to look up. “How are you feeling?”

  A little tired yet. Confused. “I feel fine.”

  Heather drew in a deep breath. “I’d like to schedule an MRI.”

  Ugh. Noisy, annoying machine. “Do you think that’s necessary? I mean, I do feel fine.”

  “You say that like you’re trying to convince yourself.” Heather went back to pecking at the keyboard. “Who’s the doctor here?”

  “I’m a doctor too.” Well, close enough, but God, that sounded so lame.

  Heather harrumphed. “The doctor who treats herself has a fool for a patient.”

  “Okay, okay.” Kayla gave up. She knew Heather was serious when she started throwing Osler around.

  As Kayla attempted to back away, her hand stuck to the desktop. A thick syrupy essence pulled on her fingers and palm. “Did you spill something?”

  Heather was a notorious neat-freak. The substance on her desk felt dense and sticky, like molasses or honey. Kayla could barely drag her hand free.

  “Holy shit.”

  Heather’s exclamation drew Kayla’s gaze down. Her hand was partially imbedded inside the desktop. Her fingertips completely disappeared under the surface.

  She pulled her hand toward her. The sticky feeling left the moment her fingers slid free. She brought her hand up in front o
f her eyes, and wiggled her fingers. A dull tingle pervaded her palm, like the hand had fallen asleep.

  Heather ran her fingers over the solid desktop. Pushing, scratching, knocking. “You are not fine, honey. Not. Fine. At. All.”

  Chapter 4

  A week later, after every medical test known to man had been run numerous times on her, Kayla still didn’t have a clue what was going on. She felt fine, at least when parts of her body weren’t sinking into solid objects. Which, admittedly, hadn’t happened all that often.

  But when she leaned against something, a door, a wall, a desktop, while distracted or deep in thought over something else, occasionally she found the connecting body part sinking in.

  Analysis of the chemical ooze and her soaked clothing proved little help in determining what happened. So many elements interacting, overlapping reactions. So many possible combinations.

  Enough already.

  She’d managed a quiet morning by keeping the door closed and lights off, while she hid out in her lab, absorbed in work. Maybe they’d all just forget about her for the day.

  She had her new computer finally arranged the way she needed it, though the slight difference in the keyboard still made her mistype occasionally. She wanted her old one back, and she wanted to punch the guy that stole it right in the face . . . a couple of times.

  Still, she was working again, and things felt like they might get back to normal.

  Her stomach dropped when she heard the door open behind her. She spun in her chair and stood to confront the intruder.

  Leaning against the doorjamb of the lab, Heather offered a bright smile. “Oh, there you are.”

  Kayla wasn’t fooled.

  “No. I’m not doing another test.” She stomped her foot like a petulant two-year old. It’s what she felt like. “I need a break. No more poking, prodding, or machines for a couple of days, okay?”

  Every damn day this week it had been something. X-rays, MRIs, blood tests . . . pap smears, for heaven’s sake. Each test seemed to come back somewhat normal with some inexplicable, piece-of-crap anomaly attached. Heather had already run Kayla through a huge battery of tests. What more could she have possibly dreamed up to do?

  She sighed. This was Heather. Probably the most brilliant Brainiac on the planet. And Kayla trusted her.

  Heather shook her head, smiling brightly. “No, it’s not another MRI.” Her expression softened, a sure sign she was going in for the kill. “I think you’ll like this test. No poking, no prodding, no machines.” Refusing to let up, she crooked her finger.

  “All right, maybe one more test.” Rubbing the kinks from her neck and shoulders, Kayla stood. She’d been hunched over her computer too long anyway. With a puffing sigh, she straightened her shoulders and followed Heather out of the room.

  Heather was either incredibly brilliant or she’d made a secret pact with the devil. Probably both. Every time the woman sneezed, she invented something with at least five patents attached. She didn’t just think outside the box, she thought outside the whole freakin’ known universe. She’d brought two men back from the dead, invented microscopic robots that could build things inside people, and somehow . . . somehow . . . could eat half a medium pepperoni pizza for lunch anytime she wanted without gaining an ounce. Not. One. Ounce.

  Okay, that last part had nothing to do with brilliance, but it did support the devil pact theory.

  Still, Kayla felt blessed to be working alongside her, and even more so because they’d become true friends.

  In Heather’s lab, an eight-foot square slab of granite countertop stood on end vertically, supported by braces on either side. “See, no pokes, no prods.”

  “What is this?” New curiosity perked Kayla’s interest.

  Joel stood on the side of the doorway, hand out. “Gun?”

  “What?” Kayla always wore her Glock nowadays. Under her lab coat, the shoulder holster didn’t show . . . much.

  “Gun.” Joel cocked his head in that way that said Because I say so.

  Not a good enough explanation, plus it offered the perfect opportunity to flirt with him. She shot him a wink. “Why, you scared of me?”

  His eyes narrowed, though the sides of his mouth quirked up.

  “Just a precaution.” He tapped his foot. “I’ve had to bring contractors in to fix bullet holes in the walls far too often lately.”

  That wasn’t her fault. When she shot, she hit her target. Still, she had no idea what test Heather planned. An accidental discharge was never a good thing.

  Kayla pulled her Glock from her holster and handed it to Joel, then she raised her hands and wiggled her butt at him. “Want to frisk me too, Sheriff?”

  Eyes darkening, he raised an eyebrow. “Kayla?”

  Okay, she’d crossed the line.

  Their banter had escalated to light flirting over the past week. At first she suspected Joel kept things light to test her mood after the attack and the embarrassment of seeing each other naked. It was nice to have something that took her mind off the assault.

  And hell, she loved flirting with Joel. The whole being naked together thing could have thrown an awkward wall between them. Instead, it opened up a fun verbal playground.

  Still, it was only that.

  Yes, she knew she played with fire, but it was a flame she wouldn’t mind being scorched by. Joel was as sexy as they came. She could even dream of this escalating into a friends with benefits kind of thing. God knew, it had been a while since she’d gotten any benefits.

  A secret liaison, kept low on the radar because of office politics and regulations. Some naked time with a sexy guy. Would he go for that?

  Probably not.

  And really, she wouldn’t either. But that didn’t stop her roving mind from conjuring up all manner of fantasy.

  She didn’t delude herself into thinking they had anything deep forming here. Joel worried about her as her boss and as the leader of the team. He had enough on his plate without some moonstruck woman panting over him.

  And she did pant at times. Joel was one of those nice guys with a rigid shell. Solid, dependable, and in charge, yet so damned sexy. A panty-melting sexy he didn’t seem to even realize.

  Captain America sexy.

  But Joel wrestled with his own demons. Any mentions of Amber shut him down faster than a speeding bullet and had him changing the conversation at warp speeds. Something dark and sordid haunted him, so Kayla kept it light, took the flirtation as a challenge, a fun game, without buying into any deeper meaning. Neither of them could afford that.

  As her boss, her superior, he constantly reminded her of the workplace regulations against fraternization. The light flirting was fun, challenging, but anything heavy could get him in a pile of trouble with his superiors.

  She huffed. “Sorry, I’ll be good.”

  A glorious smile spread across his face. “You are good.”

  Kayla drew in a deep breath, locking down the butterflies that threatened to erupt in her stomach, then turned toward Heather and the granite slab. “Now, what’s this all about?”

  “Stand here.” Heather indicated an X made of duct tape on the floor directly in front of the slab. “Put your left hand on the granite.”

  To her left, Mary Cullen fiddled with a camera on a tripod. “Ready here.”

  More than just Heather’s assistant, Mary had a genius-level scientific mind lurking behind her dark eyes. The usually dower researcher harbored a quick wit that took people by surprise when she chose to use it. And her somber moods covered a heart of gold. A wonderful person lurked inside once you got through the crusty layers.

  Heather hit a button on her laptop. Clicks and a hum from something behind the slab echoed in the chamber. “I lied a little bit when I said no machines, but these are totally not intrusive, just r
oom monitors.”

  Kayla took her position. At least this time there weren’t needles involved.

  Sliding her finger across the touch-screen of her laptop, Heather tapped a couple keys with her other hand while rolling her tongue in her cheek. “Okay, I want you to try and push your hand through that granite.”

  This was a twist. Their efforts to date focused on keeping her from sinking into solid objects or trying to understand why she did.

  “I’m not sure how I do that.” The times she’d found her hand, or some other body part, sinking into something always came as a surprise, when she hadn’t been thinking about it. Could she force it?

  The cool surface of the granite slicked with the sweat of her palm. This was only a test. If she couldn’t do it, no big deal.

  She pushed. Nothing.

  She pulled back a couple of inches then jammed her palm into the surface. Nothing.

  How the hell . . .?

  A shadow at the edge of her vision coalesced. A feeling that someone or something, lurked nearby, just out of sight, came over her. A presence watching her. Like on those late-night drives home when she’d suddenly feel like someone sat in the empty passenger seat beside her. That intangible something that was nothing, but hovered at the edge of her vision only to disappear when she looked toward it.

  Just my imagination. But why here? Now?

  Mary huffed in a sudden breath.

  The darkness at the periphery of Kayla’s vision whirled. That sticky molasses feel permeated her palm. A tingle shot through her hand.

  “That’s it.” Heather’s tone held quiet excitement. “Now push deeper.”

  Always before she’d pulled back. Now she embraced the sensations and leaned into the granite.

  Through the haze, she could barely make out her arm as it disappeared into the slab to the elbow. Her lab coat sleeve fell onto the surface of the stone, sliding through her arm. No pain, just that tingling.