Sloane

by V. J. Chambers

  Most people noticed suspicious things. And a confident person didn’t look suspicious. Confident people were convincing. If you projected assurance, people were assured. The trick was to do it well. I had to admit that it wasn’t my strong suit, probably because I wasn’t actually confident most of the time. I generally felt a little off kilter, as if I didn’t really belong anywhere.

  I compensated for this by doing my best to look pissed off or frustrated. Frustrated people didn’t reassure other people, but most people stayed clear of angry strangers. No one liked being yelled at. Anyway, I rarely had to go out into the field, since Silas always made me hang back.

  And here, with my gun, I had to admit that I really did feel confident. The weapon felt like it belonged in my hands. It was an extension of my body, an instrument of my will. I stroked the barrel.

  Griffin and Silas had gotten into an elevator.

  I kept my scope on them until the doors snapped shut, and then I raised my sights up twelve floors, which was where James Armstrong’s office was. After a little bit of searching, I was able to get a clear view of the elevator doors through the windows.

  I watched as they came out of the elevator.

  Still looking confident, the two turned and made their way down the hallway. I watched them through the windows, following them, peering through my scope.

  Eventually, they stopped at a door. I was too far away to read the name on it, even through the sights, but I knew that it was Armstrong’s office. I was the one who’d told them where it was.

  They stopped and chatted with a secretary with short, curly blond hair. I settled my crosshairs on her forehead. I wasn’t going to shoot her, but I could if I needed to.

  She didn’t look like she was going to let them in.

  I could see Silas leaning across her desk, using his charm to get her to cooperate. I waited.

  Finally, she got up from her desk and led the two of them through the door.

  The door shut.

  I moved around, squinting as I looked through the gun’s scope, trying to find the window to the office. There it was, around the corner of the building.

  Damn it.

  The blinds were closed.

  I couldn’t see anything.

  I moved away from the gun and looked down at the building. Now I really couldn’t see anything. I was too far away.

  We really should have worked this better. I’d brought a Bluetooth earpiece that was basically invisible inside the wearer’s ear. If one of them were wearing it, I could have been listening in. But of course, there was no time for that, because no one listened to me. I was always incidental.

  Little Sloane, staying back with the sniper rifle. Little Sloane, the girl that no one noticed in the bar.

  I let out an exasperated breath.

  And I waited.

  Periodically, I looked though the sights on my gun.

  I couldn’t see anything. The door was closed. The blinds were closed. The blond secretary was busy typing something on her computer.

  Minutes passed. I checked the time. Waited.

  After ten minutes, I began to wonder what the heck was going on in there.

  After twenty, I started to get worried.

  After thirty, I spotted several security guards coming up the hallway. They didn’t acknowledge the secretary. They simply went through the door.

  Okay, this wasn’t good. What were security guards doing in there? There weren’t a lot of them, and if Griffin and Silas were at full strength, the guards wouldn’t be a problem. But I didn’t know what had happened in that room.

  My heart started to pound. My palms started to slide against the slick surface of the gun.

  One of the security guards came out. He said something to the secretary, who stopped typing and got up from her desk. She hurried down the hallway and disappeared into the elevator.

  Now there was no one in the hallway.

  The security guard looked around, and then opened the door wide.

  The other guards came out, dragging with them a lifeless form.

  Oh my God. It was Griffin.

  What the hell had happened?

  I focused my crosshairs on one of the security guards. I could take all of them out from here, shoot each one in the head.

  But then I’d have to get down off this roof and across the street and up the elevator, and with people dead, the entire building would be on red alert. I’d have to shoot my way in.

  Damn it.

  I got up and sprinted across the roof.

  I needed to get in there, and it wasn’t going to do anyone any good if I was conspicuous.

  LEIGH

  I thought we were underground, because there were no windows. I’d been stuck in this vast room for more than a day. It was all concrete. Concrete floor, with a grate in the middle. Concrete walls. Everything was painted a sort of sea foam green color. I wasn’t sure if the color was supposed to be comforting, but it wasn’t. The room was empty except for a few cot mattresses that sat on the floor. They didn’t have any blankets. In the corner, there were two toilet stalls and a sink. No shower.

  I was alone in the room except for Knox, who was on the other side of the room, his cheek pressed against the wall, humming to himself. His eyes were closed.

  At first, I’d been comforted by the sight of Knox, but then I’d started talking to him, and all comfort had faded away.

  Something was wrong with Knox. He wasn’t himself. He had big memory gaps, and they came and went. Sometimes, he remembered me. Sometimes, I was pretty sure he thought he was a little boy.

  He spent most of his time huddled against one of the green walls, whimpering to himself.

  I didn’t know how long he’d been here.

  I didn’t know how long it was going to take before I started acting just like him.

  Once, they’d come and taken Knox away. He’d been gone for hours. When they threw him back into the room, he could hardly stand. He’d staggered until he found the wall. Put his hands against it. And then slid down to the floor in a heap.

  Who were they?

  I wasn’t sure. There were men in security uniforms, men with guns. They wrangled Knox in and out of the room. They didn’t talk to me. When I ran at one of them and jumped on his back, scrabbling for his face, he’d thrown me down on the ground and shot me in the head.

  Of course, I healed.

  But that told me something. These people—whoever they were—knew about the serum. They knew that they could shoot me in the head and I’d recover. If they knew about the serum, then it stood to reason that was a factor in the reason they’d kidnapped me. They knew who I was and they wanted to use me for something. I was terrified.

  I’d often thought that Griffin was paranoid when he went on and on about how we had to keep the serum a secret. He was afraid that if anyone knew, we’d be in trouble. He thought the government might capture us and run tests on us, treat us like guinea pigs. He worried that we’d be forced into the military.

  But it seemed like he’d been worried about the wrong people. It wasn’t the government who’d called me in my hotel room. It was a drug corporation. They were the bad guys. I didn’t know what they were going to do to me.

  I heard footsteps.

  They were coming back.

  Were they coming to take me away this time? The way they’d taken Knox?

  What were they going to do to me?

  The door opened. It was made of metal, but it was painted the same green as everything else.

  The guards came in, carrying two bodies.

  I recognized Griffin immediately, and my heart leaped into my throat.

  They threw the bodies on the floor.

  I started to move.

  One of the men pointed his gun at me.

  I stopped moving.

  I waited until the guards had retreated, closing the door behind them. And I scurried over to Griffin’s motionless form. I checked the back of his neck, which was the only way
that we could be killed. Our spines had to be severed. But he was whole there.

  The other body was Silas, I realized. I went to him and checked him too. He was okay as well.

  Neither of them were breathing, however. They were dark, which was what we called it when we got a wound serious enough to kill a regular person. If that happened, we’d go into a death-like state while our bodies healed.

  I pulled Griffin’s head into my lap. I stroked the top of his head, his cheek, his jaw. I started to cry. What the hell was going on? Why was Griffin here? Why was I here?

  It must have something to do with Op Wraith. There was no other reason to bring us all here. And they knew about us. They’d used their knowledge about me into manipulating me here.

  When I’d gotten that call in my hotel, the person on the other end had said that Griffin had instructed him to call. He’d said it was an emergency, and that they were bringing around a car.

  I’d rushed down to meet the car. But once in the back seat, the man waiting for me had pulled out a gun and shot me, making me go dark. I’d woken up here.

  I kissed Griffin’s forehead. I was still crying.

  He twitched.

  “Griffin?” I whispered. “Baby?”

  His eyes fluttered open. He focused on me. “Doll?”

  I nodded. “Hi.”

  He scrambled to sit up. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Oh God.” He wrapped his arms around me, pressing his lips against mine.

  I clung to him, and I started crying harder.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I was breathless as I made my way up to the doors of the Costello Lab building, but I was doing my best not to let it show. I pushed open the door and hurried inside.

  I made a beeline for the elevator.

  I hit the button, and the doors opened right away. I flung myself inside and punched the button for the floor where Griffin and Silas were. If they were even there anymore. It had taken me a good fifteen minutes to make it this far, and I didn’t know what had happened in the interim.

  The elevator began to move.

  And then it stopped. But not on the floor I wanted. On a different floor. Someone up here must have wanted the elevator. Now it was stopping to let that person on.

  I glared at the doors as they slid open.

  There was a young man in a lab coat there. He stepped into the elevator, looking me up and down.

  I recognized him.

  “Sally?” he said.

  That was the name I’d gone by when I pretended to be an intern here. I tried to smile. “Hi, Jeff.”

  “Wow,” he said. “It’s been years.” He was grinning. “How the hell are you?”

  “Um, good.” I fidgeted.

  He hit the floor he wanted and the doors closed again. “It’s great to see you. What have you been up to?”

  I looked around the elevator, wishing like hell he wasn’t in here. “Oh, you know, school.”

  “Right,” he said. “I forgot that you were just out of high school when you interned here.”

  I nodded, looking up at the floors as the elevator dinged past them. How much longer would I have to carry on this conversation?

  “Well, as you can see, I never really left,” he said. “I finished up my internship here, and they offered me a job, and I’ve been here ever since.”

  Why was he telling me this? “Great.” I was still smiling, but I wasn’t sure if my smile looked genuine or not.

  “So, what brings you here today?”

  “Oh, just… nostalgia,” I said.

  He chuckled. “Right. Well, you picked a hell of a day to drop in.”

  I furrowed my brow. “I did?”

  “Oh yeah,” he said. “We had a break in. Two guys came in and threatened Armstrong with guns.”

  I swallowed. “Really? But why?”

  He shrugged. “Oh, who the hell knows. People are nuts, right? Anyway, it was a big hullabaloo. You just missed it. Security carted them off to the police station.”

  “The police?”

  Maybe he heard something in my voice, some bit of panic that he interpreted as disbelief, because he lowered his voice. “Well, that’s the story, anyway. But I think we both know that they got taken off to Armstrong’s secret lab, right?”

  “I thought that lab got destroyed,” I said.

  “Oh, it did,” he said. “But you know Armstrong. That wouldn’t stop him. He’s still up to his old tricks.”

  The elevator dinged and the doors opened.

  Jeff raised his eyebrows. “Well, this is me. It was so good to see you, Sally. You know, maybe sometime we could get together and hang out. Can I give you my number?”

  I smiled. “Yeah, that would be great, Jeff.”

  * * *

  “Sally?” said Jeff’s voice through my phone. “Calling me already, huh?”

  “Well, I figured there was no time like the present,” I said. “You busy right now?”

  “I’m just getting off work,” he said.

  “Did you park in the parking garage?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “So, tell me where, and I’ll meet you at your car,” I said.

  He hesitated.

  Come on, Jeff, I thought at him. Tell me where you are.

  “Okay,” he said. “Yeah, meet me at my car.”

  I smiled. Good. That was exactly what I needed. I waited as he told me where in the parking garage he was parked.

  * * *

  The parking garage was dank and dark. There were lights on the walls that barely burned blue-tinged light into the gloom. I leaned against the trunk of a Chevy Impala. From Jeff’s description on the car, I knew it to be his. He wasn’t one of the bigwigs in the company, so his parking space was buried deep down, several levels below the surface. It was like a tomb down here, and we were alone.

  Nervously, I fingered the pistol at my back.

  This wasn’t anything personal. I’d always liked Jeff. I didn’t want to hurt him or upset him in any way. If the situation were different, maybe I would even go out for a drink with him and hang out.

  He’d seemed sort of interested, after all.

  Maybe he’d just been trying to be friendly. I wasn’t sure. But he’d wanted to give me his number, and he’d seemed receptive to hanging out. So maybe, in another life, Jeff and I could have had a nice evening talking about the good old days. And maybe something might have even come of it.

  Jeff was kind of attractive, after all. He wasn’t super gorgeous—some kind of golden god come to life. Nothing like that. But he had a nice smile, and he had kind eyes.

  But there was no reason to think thoughts like that, because nothing romantic was ever going to happen between Jeff and me.

  I took a deep breath.

  I shouldn’t be allowing myself to think about him in a fond way, anyhow. That would just make everything harder.

  A noise. The sound of footfalls echoing through the parking garage.

  I turned to see Jeff as he appeared at the end of the row of cars.

  I smiled at him and waved. “Hey.”

  He broke out into a big grin, hurrying closer. “Hey. You found my car.”

  “Wasn’t hard,” I said, reaching back to grasp the handle of the pistol at my back.

  “I can’t believe you called me,” he said. “You know, back when you were an intern, I always thought you hated me. You always had this angry look on your face, and I was too intimidated to talk to you. But today, I saw you, and I figured why the hell not. Why not give it a shot?”

  Damn it, Jeff, stop saying things like that. I kept smiling. “I’m glad you did.”

  He closed the distance between us. “So, um, what do you want to do?”

  I pressed the gun into his stomach.

  His eyes widened.

  “Sorry, Jeff,” I said. “I really am sorry.”

  “What is that?” His voice was strangled.

&nbs
p; “If you do exactly as I say, then I won’t shoot you, okay?”

  He started to tremble. “It’s a gun?”

  “I’m going to need your keys. Tell me where they are.”

  “Uh… uh… in my pocket.”

  “Which pocket?”

  He shook harder. “Why are you doing this? Are you stealing my car?”

  “Keys, Jeff. Which pocket?”

  “Left,” he said. “My left pants’ pocket.”

  I reached down and fished them out. “Good. Now, I need you to get in the trunk.”

  He gave a me a startled look. Then he turned to look back the way he came. He took a deep breath.

  I could tell he was about to yell. I jammed the gun into him harder. “Don’t even think about it. If you make one bit of noise, I will put a bullet in you, got it?”

  He moaned.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Massachusetts is a pretty heavily populated state, but even here, I could get out into a fairly rural area within about a thirty-minute drive from the city. Now I drove out out into the woods, with a guy in my trunk. I was going to find a nice, isolated spot to torture him. I clutched the steering wheel hard, my knuckles white from the pressure.

  I hadn’t done something like this…

  Well, never.

  Not on my own, anyway. Silas had always been there. He’d always taken the lead. He’d always made me hang back.

  But now Silas had been captured and taken someplace, probably to James Armstrong’s secret lab, and he couldn’t take the lead. He needed me to rescue him. Which I was going to do. No matter what it took.

  Still, I was worried. I was worried about freezing up. I was worried about not being able to handle it. I was worried it would be too much for me. There was a reason Silas had always kept me back, and maybe it was because I was incapable of doing what needed to be done.

  But eventually, I drove Jeff’s car far enough out that we wouldn’t be disturbed.

  I parked it, took out my gun, and went around back.