by Jon S. Lewis
“I thought you were going to lunch with your friends,” Grandpa said as Colt walked into the kitchen. “Did they stand you up?”
“We need to talk.”
Grandpa shut the refrigerator door and turned to look at Colt. “Okay,” he finally said after an uncomfortable pause. “What seems to be the problem?”
Colt stood there as the emotion swelled. “I know.”
“You’re going to have to give me a bit more than that,” Grandpa said as he took a stack of frozen chicken potpies out of a grocery bag.
“About the tests,” Colt said. “The memories weren’t false. I know what you guys did to me.”
Grandpa placed the milk back into the bag. “Who told you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Colt said. “Is it true? Did you let some guy shoot me up with alien blood?”
Grandpa reached for a handkerchief and blew his nose. “There’s a bit more to the story, but I can’t deny it,” he said as he took a seat at the kitchen table. “You see, during the war the Nazis talked about an ancient Thule legend where the monsters believed their civilization was going to be destroyed by one of their own. I don’t remember the exact word they used for it, but it translated to our language as the Betrayer.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“I’m getting to that part,” Grandpa said, waving him off. “There was a guy in our platoon by the name of George Norman. Now, you had to know George, but one night he had too much to drink, and he came up with the crazy notion of injecting himself with some alien blood that he took from a cadaver. He figured that might make him one of them, and if that happened then he would become the Betrayer.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Grandpa shrugged. “He raided a medical supply tent, and before we knew it, a dozen of us were rolling up our sleeves to inject ourselves with the blood.”
“You did it too?”
“We were desperate,” Grandpa said. “But it didn’t work. In fact, a couple of the men died, and the rest of us ended up in bed for a month. It wasn’t too long before the U.S. Army assigned some of their top scientists to what they called Project Armageddon, a top secret program where they injected a few thousand GIs with a kind of serum that had alien DNA.”
“And when that didn’t work, they started shooting up a bunch a kids? How many died thanks to your little stunt?”
“More than I care to admit.” Grandpa looked up at Colt, his lip quivering. “You don’t know how much it hurt your folks to put you through those tests.”
“It didn’t bother them enough to stop it from happening,” Colt said. “Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, how could you keep a secret like that for all these years? Don’t you think I had the right to know?”
“It wasn’t my place. Your mom didn’t want us to mention it until there was no longer a choice.” Grandpa sighed. “Look, Colt, you may not want to hear this, but a lot of people are placing their hope in you.”
“Why? Because they think I’m the one in the prophecy? Are you kidding me?”
“They’ve tested thousands of people over the years, and you’re the only one who didn’t reject the serum,” Grandpa said, his voice heavy with emotion. “Like it or not, you’re the one . . . the Betrayer.”
“Yeah, right. That doesn’t make me a hero, it makes me a freak!” He punched the refrigerator and stormed out the back door.
:: CHAPTER 12 ::
With nowhere to go, Colt ended up walking to Danielle’s house. It was only a couple of blocks away, and her mother insisted on warming up a leftover chile relleno and some rice.
“Are you going to tell me what you saw in your memories today, or do I have to guess?” Danielle asked once they were alone in the backyard. “It must have been bad, because I’ve never seen you like this—not even after what happened with your parents. I seriously thought we were going to have to call a suicide prevention hotline.”
“I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me,” Colt said.
“I’ll try.”
“I’m serious,” Colt said. “You’re the only person who tells me the truth anymore.”
“What’s going on?”
“Do you think I’m insane?”
Danielle started to laugh, but she stopped when she saw that he was serious. “You’re not joking, are you?”
“You know something? I wouldn’t be surprised if all of this came from my imagination—you know, what happened to my parents . . . the aliens . . . all of it. I could be lying in some mental ward in a medically induced coma right now while my subconscious makes everything up.”
“Okay, now you really are scaring me.”
Colt sat down on a patio chair near the pool and told her about the memories he had seen—how the government was running an experimental program on little kids, and how he was pretty sure some of them had died thanks to the injections.
“Do you want to know the crazy part?” he asked. “I’m the only one whose body didn’t reject the serum. They think it means I’m some kind of chosen one. It just makes me a freak.”
Danielle stood there staring at him.
“Say something already.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “Just tell me what you’re thinking.”
“The truth?”
“Yeah.”
“The first thing I thought about was how hard it must have been on your mom. I mean, can you imagine what it would be like to watch your own child go through something like that?”
Colt couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “She was there when it happened.”
“Exactly,” Danielle said. “I mean, fine. It’s your life and you can be mad at her if you want, but what was she supposed to do? Hide you in a basket and send you down the river? Or maybe she could have sneaked you across the border and raised you in some remote South American jungle.”
“I get the point.”
“The second thing I thought about was how lucky you are.”
“Are you serious?” he said. “For all I know, I’m going to sprout four more arms on my eighteenth birthday. I don’t know about you, but that’s not my definition of lucky.”
“You’re so busy feeling sorry for yourself that you’re missing the point.” Danielle crossed her arms. “When we were kids, I would get so excited when my parents told me that you were coming over. I’d pick a bouquet of flowers out of my mom’s garden, and then I’d take all the chairs out of the dining room and line them up so we could play wedding.”
“Is that why you always wore that white dress?”
“That only took you, what, ten years to figure out?” Danielle said. “You’re a regular Sherlock Holmes.”
“Look, I—”
“I’m not done,” she said. “How many times did you walk down the aisle with me?”
Colt shrugged. “I don’t remember.”
“Well, I do,” she said. “It was a grand total of zero, because all you wanted to do was play superheroes. You’d run around with a towel tied around your neck, pretending it was a cape. And if I didn’t want to be your sidekick, I got stuck playing a super villain.”
“How was I supposed to know? You never said anything.”
“That’s not the point,” Danielle said. “You spent your entire childhood dreaming about saving the world from bad guys, and now that you have a chance to be a real hero, you want to pout and run away. I don’t get it.”
Colt was caught somewhere between disbelief and anger. “I don’t want to run away, it’s just that . . .”
“What?”
“I don’t know,” he asked. “Maybe you’re right.”
“So what if you grow two more arms?” Danielle asked. “I mean, is that the worst thing that could happen? Besides, even if you do turn into one of the Thule, you can shape-shift into anything you want.”
The beginnings of a smile played on his lips. “I guess I didn’t think about that.”
<
br /> “Obviously,” Danielle said. “And by the way, I have a secret of my own.” She handed him an invitation that was stuffed inside a cream-colored envelope with gold foil lining—the same invitation that he had received a few weeks back.
“Are you serious?”
“Yep. I’ve been invited to attend the CHAOS Military Academy.” Danielle was smiling so hard it looked like her cheeks were going to crack. “I couldn’t believe it either! I mean, I wanted to go with you guys, but it’s not like you can fill out an application or anything.”
“When did you find out?”
“This afternoon.”
“And you don’t think Oz is playing some kind of practical joke?”
“What, you don’t think I can make it?”
“It’s not that,” he said, instantly regretting the comment. “Have you told him yet?”
“No. I wanted you to be the first to know.”
“I’m really glad, Dani,” he said. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the academy without you.”
:: CHAPTER 13 ::
Morning came too quickly. The alarm went off at a quarter to six, and Colt hit the snooze button twice before he tried to unravel from his sheets. It was still dark, and everything inside of him yearned for sleep, but he knew Danielle would be up and ready to go.
Eventually he found a crumpled tracksuit and his running shoes, though he had to settle for mismatched socks. He thought about a shower, but there wasn’t enough time, so he grabbed a baseball cap, slapped on some deodorant, and peeked through the crack in his door. He didn’t want to run into Grandpa, who was usually up by now, but the lights were off and the house was quiet, so he grabbed his keys and went out the back door.
By the time he pulled into the parking lot, at the park Oz and Danielle were stretching in a grassy area next to the pond. Colt turned the engine off. Morning breath caked his mouth, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He would have to stop at a convenience store and grab some gum after their run.
“Good morning,” Danielle said as he stepped out of the truck. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Not really.” He stretched before getting distracted by a pair of ducks looking for bread crumbs.
“Let’s go,” Oz said, much to Colt’s relief.
They set off at a comfortable pace, leaving the ducks to bother an old man who was tying a hook to the line of his fishing pole. Steam rose from Colt’s mouth as he exhaled, his feet pounding the asphalt path as they followed a winding trail around the pond. There were tall trees and rolling grass all around. It felt like a wilderness trail instead of a park in the middle of a major city.
Colt’s eyes fell to the scar on the back of Danielle’s neck. Two weeks ago she’d had a biochip removed from the base of her skull. Aldrich Koenig, the imprisoned president of Trident Biotech, had ordered one implanted into her cerebral cortex, effectively turning her into a puppet forced to do his bidding. Koenig had done it to get at Colt, and it almost worked.
He blamed himself for what had happened, and even though she had forgiven him, he was still overwhelmed by guilt. He wanted to apologize again, to tell her he was sorry for getting her involved, but she had made him promise he would never say it again.
Colt slowed to a walk, his fingers locked behind his head as he breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. The other two had disappeared around the corner, leaving him alone with his exhaustion. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into bed.
Something heavy moved through the trees. Birds took to the air, and Colt spun, his eyes wide as hair stood on the back of his neck. “Who’s there?”
No response.
Each breath he took was amplified by the quiet. Colt thought about calling out for help, but his jaw wouldn’t move. He heard leaves rustle and branches snap, and for a moment he thought that he could see a pair of eyes. Or was it his imagination?
There was a scraping sound, and he turned just as a woman rounded the corner with a black Lab in tow. Her cheeks were flushed, but she managed to smile as the dog sniffed at the trees. It growled and pinned its ears. “Come on,” the lady said as she jerked the leash. The dog resisted as it tried to draw nearer to the shadows, but then it whimpered and ran after her.
Colt took off at a dead run, adrenaline driving his legs as he scampered down the path. Oz and Danielle were sharing a sports drink when he reached the parking lot. They decided to head back to Oz’s house and grab some breakfast.
“If you want to leave your truck here, we can pick it up later,” Oz said.
“That’s okay. I’ll just meet you over there.” Colt watched them pull out of the parking lot before he fished his keys out. He went to open the door, but then stopped. Someone was standing behind him in the rearview mirror. Whoever it was, his eyes had a faint glow.
Tendrils of panic shot up Colt’s stomach, making it difficult to breathe. His first instinct was to run, but where would he go? Instead, he opened the door and pretended to drop his keys. They clanked as he reached under the seat for Grandpa’s tire iron, but by the time he spun around the figure was gone.
:: CHAPTER 14 ::
After a pit stop in the kitchen where Oz made everyone egg white omelets with turkey bacon, mushrooms, tomatoes, and spinach, he led them to a room that he called the arena. It was long and narrow, and the floor was covered in what looked like a wrestling mat.
“Here’s the thing,” he said as he slipped out of his shoes. “When you get to the academy nobody is going to take it easy on you just because you’re a girl.”
“Wait a minute,” Danielle said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Oz raised his hands in surrender. “Nothing, it’s just that—”
“I don’t expect you or anyone else to take it easy on me.” Her words were sharp, her voice intense. “And I don’t want either one of you treating me like I’m some kind of damsel in distress. Not now, and not when we get to Virginia. I earned that invitation, and I plan on proving it.”
“Don’t look at me,” Colt said.
She stood there, feet planted and fists clenched until her knuckles were white.
Oz crossed his arms. “So that’s the way it’s going to be?”
Danielle blew at a loose strand of hair.
“Then let’s get started.” He opened with a basic fighting stance, showing Danielle how to bend her knees, place her left foot forward, and pick up her back heel. “Now raise your hands, but keep your elbows tight.” He swung at her face and then her ribs, stopping before he made contact. “See? That’s how you protect yourself.”
Her eyes were wide as she nodded.
“Now, if you want to hit me back, you need to make a fist and lead with your top two knuckles.” He took her hand and formed it into a first. Then he moved her arm so she struck the air next to his chin. “Remember, keep those elbows tight and pointed toward the ground. Then drive with your hips. You got that?”
“I think so.”
“Show me.” Oz stepped back and raised his palms, waiting for her to strike.
“You want me to hit you?”
“As hard as you can.”
Danielle punched Oz with her left hand, then her right.
“Again, only this time remember to keep your elbows in and use your hips. Drive all the way through. That’s where you get your power.” He forced her to repeat it time and again, and it was obvious that she was getting frustrated. Her face was flushed as she threw punch after punch, grunting each time she struck his hands, but Oz just stood there, pointing out her flaws.
“Not bad for a newbie,” he finally said after she threw a textbook combination. “If you keep it up, CHAOS is going to pull you off the hacker team and put you on the front line with the rest of us grunts.”
A smile curled at the edge of her lips, and Colt thought she actually blushed. “Yeah, right.”
The door opened, and a man with terra co
tta skin and thick black hair walked in. He was tall with broad shoulders that were slightly hunched, as though he was carrying a heavy burden. But it was his eyes that gave him away. As Lobo smiled, they burned with intensity. Over the past few weeks, he had spent most of his time at the CHAOS headquarters in Virginia, which meant that this was the first time Colt had met him in person.
Oz crossed the floor and embraced his father. “I thought you were in London this week. What happened?”
“It’s a long story, and I’m too tired to explain.” Lobo held Oz at arm’s length, pride pouring out of him like a neon sign on the Vegas strip. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk at dinner, so why don’t you introduce me to your friends?”
“This is Danielle Salazar,” Oz said. “You know, the hacker I was telling you about?”
“Ah, yes. I hear there isn’t a machine on this planet or any other that you can’t access,” he said. “I’m glad that my computer requires a biometric scan, otherwise your presence would make me nervous.”
“It wouldn’t stop her,” Oz said.
Danielle blushed as Lobo frowned. “You’re telling me that we’ve spent a fortune on our security, and it wouldn’t matter?” he asked. “How long would it take you to break in?”
She shrugged.
“Don’t be modest. Please.”
“It depends,” she said. “If I could lift a clean fingerprint, it should only take a few minutes. If not? I don’t know. But there’s always a back door. You just have to look hard enough, and you’ll find it.”
Lobo shook his head and smiled, somehow expressing admiration and disappointment at the same time. Then he turned his attention to Colt. “And you must be Murdoch’s grandson,” he said. His thick brows were furrowed, and his words lacked warmth. He didn’t smile or offer his hand. Lobo simply stood there regarding Colt as if he were reading his thoughts . . . accessing his secrets.
