Loyalty

by Carrie Butler

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  Everything seemed to happen at once after that. Elise took off, but Larry charged right through her. He wouldn’t be able to stop her, obviously, but the desperate spike in her blood pressure would make it harder to control her ability.

  Rachel pinched the wire with a shaking hand, held it away from her, and squeezed her eyes shut.

  Snip.

  I hit the deck. My body had moved without my consent, pressing my face against the pungent concrete in a final act of self-preservation. Everything faded away except my heartbeat and the sound of my suddenly ragged breathing—that is, until I heard laughter.

  Cole had tears. “Shit, Sis. You don’t waste time, do you? Duck and cover!”

  I looked around with flaming cheeks. No one else had moved. The wire hung flaccid from a block of boom putty on the wall, still in place and a safe distance away from the door. We could get in now. All we’d have to do was cut the wires connecting the door to his body.

  Speaking of which, Rach would have to repeat her technique on at least two other wires after that. They connected his body to globs of explosives on the surrounding walls. I glanced at her to gauge her readiness.

  She stood there, wide eyed and trembling, with her scissors still extended through the bars. Her previous zeal was about to leak out through her tear ducts.

  “Shh…s’okay, angel,” Cole coaxed, his voice significantly gentler than when he’d spoken to me. “You did it. You saved me.”

  “But I…”

  “GRAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Behind us, Larry’s skillet finally connected with something.

  I turned around to find Elise laid out on the floor, blood streaking her temple.

  He knelt down and checked her pulse. “Out. Who’s next?”

  Rachel blinked and turned to him. “You got her?”

  “All right, Team Cole!” My future brother-in-law cheered like we’d scored after pulling our goalie in the third. “Now get me out of here, so we can go back up Wallace.”

  I stood up and dusted my hands off on my pants. “Yeah, about that…I lied.”

  “Really?” He tilted his head. “That was pretty believable, for you. I’m proud. So, does that mean Wally’s headed up north?”

  “Unfortunately.” I tugged my phone out of my pocket and checked for any missed messages. “He’s supposed to let me know when he finds the place, so I can meet him there.”

  “Yeah, that’s going to happen…”

  “What?”

  “I said Tits’ fly is a-flappin’.”

  Larry looked down at his jeans and scrunched his face. “Aww, man…”

  Wallace is going to call. We’re past that sacrificial stage in our relationship. We trust each other. He promised…

  Rachel steeled herself with a deep breath and shook her head. “Okay, I think I might need some quiet, guys.” She began cutting the wires back, double-checking their paths each time. It took a few minutes, but she was able to clear the area.

  Again, the stupid door wasn’t locked. Larry nudged it open and waved us in like a giant, puffy commando. I kept an eye on Elise.

  By the time they’d untangled Cole, his wounds had already healed, leaving nothing but smudges of dried blood. As he sauntered through the open doorway, he looked a lot more relieved than he’d cared to speak of. I wondered just how desperate he’d been before we got here.

  “Where’s our hostage?” he asked me, bending to tie his shoelaces.

  I turned and pointed at…nothing. “Shit! She was just there.”

  “Yeah, I actually saw her go through the door a split second ago. Figured I could catch up.” And with that, Cole disappeared in a blurred streak. He used the door.

  Larry gaped.

  Rachel smiled.

  I rubbed my forehead. We hadn’t made it out yet…

  Less than a minute later, we met up with Cole in the hall. He was carting Elise’s unconscious body in front of him, marching her back to us like a stringless marionette. “She must’ve barely had enough focus to faze through that door. I ran up and kicked her in the back of the head all Jet Li style.”

  “What are we going to do with her?” Rachel asked, edging closer. I could tell she wanted to hug him, but it would’ve been awkward with his cargo.

  Larry rolled his eyes. “Give her here.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  The guys made the pass off, and Rachel leapt into Cole’s waiting arms. It would’ve been one of those movie scenes with a slow motion swell of music if we weren’t in the bowels of an evil organization. I swallowed and turned away to check my phone again.

  No messages.

  Cole guided Rachel down the hall and we followed. “I figure we’ll hold on to her until we get out, and then ditch her somewhere.”

  She stiffened. “No killing, right?”

  “Not unless she pulls out an Uzi and starts leveling the place.” He pulled her in tight and buried a kiss in her hair. “You won’t be seeing any violence today.”

  Translation—Cole is going to come back alone at a later date. Not that I blame him.

  Whatever Elise had done to him in there was pretty sadistic. Piano wire and bombs? ERA had secure rooms all over the place they could’ve used. They had to, if they were keeping SAGEs and Dynari like Vladimir. Was this some kind of statement?

  Larry eyed the ceiling as we neared the red sector again. “Should we try to disable these cameras first? They’ve probably discovered my intrusion by now.”

  Cole waved him off. “Don’t worry. They’re not allowed to carry guns. The old bat got shot down in South America, years ago. So, even if they figure out what’s happening, you’re not in danger of catching a bullet.”

  “The one with the freaky smoke?”

  “Someone’s been studying.”

  “Yeah, about that…” Larry sidled up beside his best friend. “We’re going to have a little chat when you come home.”

  “Hey, ask anyone, I was ready to tell you. I just had to time it right.”

  “Uh huh…”

  Something tickled the back of my mind. “Hey, Larry?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Who’s Leeroy Jenkins?”

  Cole snorted and ruffled my hair. “Geek reference. You wouldn’t get it, even if he explained it to you.”

  I swatted him away. “You’re both weird.”

  “What are you in such a piss poor mood about? I’m the one who was taken captive.”

  “I’m not in a mood.”

  “Then you’re obviously constipated.”

  “Cole.” I rubbed my temples.

  “Come on…”

  “It’s stupid.”

  “That doesn’t stop you from speaking any other time.”

  “I wanted to go all fake-Dynari mode and save the day, okay?” I sighed and flexed my hands. “I finally had Wallace’s powers with no supervision and full license to use them. Like I said, it’s stupid.”

  “Aww…” He hooked his free arm around my shoulder. “Would it help if you got to destroy something before we left?”

  “I don’t think we have time to—”

  “Shh…” His hand snaked around the side of my face and covered my mouth. “Brother’s gonna take care of you.”

  ~

  We exited through an underground garage. Or at least, I assumed we were exiting. Cole presented me with a line of ERA’s town cars and told me to have at it.

  “You mean…?” I shot the vehicles a questioning glance and turned back to him.

  “Uh huh.”

  “All of them?”

  “As many as you can flip in thirty seconds.”

  “That’s ridicu—”

  “Go.”

  Damn it. A ticking clock always flustered me. Rather than burden myself with yet another dilemma, I just went for it.

  My hands slipped under the nearest car’s bumper, and I secured my hold—crunching plastic and metal before I had a chance to lift it. Geez. No wonder Wallace had such a tough
time. Thank God I hadn’t touched much else since we’d been here.

  I adjusted my grip and lifted it overhead without so much as breaking a sweat. It felt light, almost laughably so. Still, I wasn’t sure I had enough height to tip it over…

  “Just wing it!” Cole called, cupping a hand to his mouth. “C’mon, you’ve wanted to do this for months.”

  Not with an audience!

  Taking a deep breath, I lowered the car and thrust it upward like I was flipping a table. The back flew toward the vaulted garage ceiling, covered me in horrifying shadow for a moment’s held breath, and then landed on its roof with a satisfying crash.

  I. Loved. It.

  The next car was easier. I had the technique down now. Memories of ERA’s transgressions buzzed through my mind as I took out my aggression on their transportation fleet. Faye spying on us, using us, and then going so far as to almost kill Wallace for a stupid test. Gail manipulating Wallace to hurt me, mocking us, and then taking Cole captive—yeah, he’d explained that much en route. And Elise! She wasn’t nearly as innocent as her absence had led us to believe. Aside from engineering the virus responsible for the deaths of thousands, she’d tortured Cole.

  Sweat tickled my hairline, not from exertion, but pent-up anxiety. I’d been holding it in my chest too long. My lungs clamored for air. With a guttural scream, I started throwing cars against the far wall. Glass shattered. Metal caved. Streaks etched into the concrete.

  Everything bled into a haze of frustration as I finished the line and moved on to the vans. One by one, they joined ERA’s new junkyard, a gift I’d leave them to remember me by. If they were done honoring our agreement, then so I was I.

  I gritted my teeth and lifted the last bumper.

  Cole put a hand on my shoulder. “Time.”

  The van grazed the ceiling and slid ten feet before smashing against the heap. No one would be following us. Not on four wheels, at least. I wiped my hands on my pants and tried to catch my breath.

  “Whoa!” Larry stumbled back in my peripheral.

  “I’m done,” I assured him, turning around. “Sorry, I just…”

  Shit. He wasn’t looking at me; he was looking at the woman who had melted from his arms and taken off.

  Elise fazed in and out of visible tangibility, struggling to control her ability as she charged for Rachel. She fiddled with something on her finger—a ring, some kind of large-set heirloom. Its false stone hit the ground and bounced. She lunged. “Where is she? What have you fools done with my daughter?”

  I ran, we all did, but she disappeared into thin air.

  Cole slid through where she’d been first, his face a predator’s mask as he whirled around. Larry jerked his head side to side, his eyes bulging as he witnessed his fourth or fifth supernatural act in the past hour. And Rachel…the poor thing didn’t know what to do. She cowered with her arms protectively wrapped around her stomach, her scissors still clutched tight in her hand. “W-What is she doing?”

  “Trying to scare us,” I told her, forcing a calm expression as I neared. “It was probably a diversion, so she could esca—”

  Rachel screamed bloody murder.

  All at once, Elise appeared at her side, echoing the outburst as she jerked her fist back from Rachel’s neck. A slick needle caught the light where it jutted out from her exposed ring. She clutched her ribs and doubled over, hissing her breaths. “I-I…injected…you…have to…tell me…or…”

  Cole rammed into her like a truck, shoving her away from his woman with a ferocity that scared the shit out of me.

  “Wait!” I saw it then, the handle protruding from her side. Elise had materialized just as Rachel had jerked her arm out. She’d been stabbed with the scissors…badly. Blood blossomed around the wound, soaking up her blouse.

  She writhed around and palmed at the floor, groaning. “You have…no idea…what you’ve done.”

  Rachel stood there, chalky and unseeing for a moment of shock, before her eyes rolled back and her knees gave out. Cole caught her limp body before it went anywhere near the ground.

  Adrenaline coursed through my veins, but I didn’t know what to do with it. Elise was the enemy. She’d just dosed my friend, maybe even my future sister-in-law, with something malicious. Without her, the virus epidemic might be able to be contained, but…if we didn’t help her, wouldn’t we be the bad guys?

  Fuck.

  I fell to the ground, still unsure, and looked her over. “What did you give Rachel?”

  “A-A…wakeup call…”

  “Elise.” I reached out and shook her. “I’m serious. Tell us what you did and how we can reverse it. Then we’ll get you back to—”

  Her eyes glazed over in a way that made my stomach bottom out. “I-I hope…she dies. I hope they all…die. End it. Start over…”

  “Hey,” I yelled, shaking her again, “you’re babbling. Stay with us.”

  “Mother didn’t…say thank you…”

  “Elise!”

  Her head lolled to the side, her gaze frozen over my shoulder.

  “Damn it!” Cole spun in a panic, Rachel’s red hair fanning brown in the dim lighting. “What the hell are we supposed to do now?”

  Larry hurried over to me, pale as a sheet but determined. “Can we take the ring? Maybe we can get the residue analyzed.”

  “Where?”

  “Hell if I know!” He shot me a two-headed look and gestured around. “Don’t you have your own secret base?”

  Cole cleared his throat. “It’s a little, uh, underdeveloped at the moment. Uncle Henry and Jaya could probably work something out in the infirmary, though…”

  “Is your Jeep still here?” Larry asked him. “We came in Rachel’s car.”

  “Nah, I came in Wallace’s truck. Let’s all pile in her car.”

  Body. I’m beside a dead body. Why isn’t anyone looking at the dead body?

  “Sounds good. We better bounce, though, before someone spots us.”

  Body! Dead body! We just killed someone…or did she kill herself?

  “C’mon, Sis!” Cole trotted up the incline with Larry close behind.

  I wasn’t Catholic, but I tried to do some kind of crossy-thing over her, just in case. It was the best I could do, considering I jumped over her body a second later and scrambled to catch up with the group.

  At best, it might save one of us from hell.

  CHAPTER 10

  « WALLACE »

  I dialed Rena’s number again.

  Her panic had shot through the Nexus a minute ago, and I needed to know why. The rational part of my brain told me I’d never get service out here in the middle of Lake Erie, but I had to keep trying.

  I’d asked around in Catawba and ended up catching a ferry to Middle Bass Island. From there, I tried to charter a private boat to Sanctuary Island, but the looks I received at the marina were less than trusting. Apparently, asking for a ride to an abandoned area suggests criminal intention. Who knew?

  Plan B started the second I ducked into a souvenir shop and stumbled across a pair of non-prescription glasses. Rena would love them. They were dark and prominent and would play perfectly into her not-so-secret Clark Kent fantasy—which gave me an idea.

  I shelled out nine bucks and adopted a new identity as a reporter. You can get by with almost anything in the name of research, these days.

  God, I sound like Cole.

  A short ways down the boardwalk, I found a microbrewery. A few bills to a bartender pointed me in the direction of a portly guy in purple sunglasses, people-watching from the bar. He smiled when I approached. “Gorgeous weather, huh?”

  “Perfect day for a story.” I smiled back, taking the stool next to his.

  He raised a bushy brow. “You tellin’ stories?”

  “Writing them.” I held up the pen and paper I’d commandeered from the bar. “But today’s all about research. I have to find someone to take me out east this afternoon. Have any recommendations?”

  “No kiddin’?”
he asked, incredulous. “I got a boat. How far east ya headin’?”

  “Sanctuary Island.”

  “Ooo…” He rubbed his chin. “You interested in the ruins of that old mall or the asylum they tore down to make it?”

  “Both.” That was true. I had no clue about either. Googling time had been sidelined by the Cole emergency, which I had yet to be updated on. “If you’re free, I’d love to ride over with someone who knows a bit of the history.”

  He sipped his daiquiri and coughed. “Kid, you won’t find anyone on this island who’s waded through more bullshit than I have. If there’s a story hidin’ around here, I’ve already heard it, repeated it, and had a laugh at the poor schmuck it involved.”

  A waitress brought my Coke, and I clinked his glass. “Then it sounds like we have a plan.”

  “Sure does. The name’s Hector.”

  ~

  An hour and twenty bucks later, we were speeding toward a jagged silhouette on the horizon. The lake’s hallmark stench kicked up with every spray of water, and the wind had blown my hair back.

  “See, they named it Sanctuary Island after the asylum that used to be there back in the 1800s.” Hector gestured at the horizon. “Awful place. I heard they pulled all kinds of instruments out of there no human should ever have had to lay eyes on.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Yeah, then in the 1970s, it went up for auction. There was a big stink about the bids going back and forth between this private group of culties and a commercial developer. Of course, the developer had deeper pockets and won the property. That’s why you’re seeing the outline of a massive building up there. It was supposed to be a mall.”

  “Supposed to be?” It was a strange sight to behold in the middle of nowhere, that was for sure.

  He leaned back, one hand draped over the wheel. “Never opened. They spent over a year getting it ready. Bringing in tenants, building an on-site hotel—you know, trying to make it another tourist trap. Then the sightings started…”

  “What kinds of sightings?” I scribbled down what he was saying, more out of interest than guise of work. Did this history have anything to do with the group supposedly occupying the area?