“You don’t understand,” Evan growled and tossed the album on Theo’s side of the bed.
“I know enough,” Margo nodded slowly, looking ten years older than she should. “I know God gave you a family that loves you. He gave you knowledge and ability. He gave you a conscience and an undeniable need to see that good prevails over evil.”
“Mom, what if I fail?”
“I love you no matter what, Evan Winter. Nothing you could ever say or do would stop me from loving you. Nothing. And if you need to test me on that, go right ahead. I have learned to be a patient woman. I will wait for you.”
Margo raised her hands out to Evan who wanted nothing more than to crawl into her lap and feel her arms around him like he did as a little boy, but he was too big for that.
Instead, he carefully wrapped his arms around his mother and lifted her out of her wheelchair. He sat at the edge of her bed, set her in his lap and curled himself around her, as though shielding her from the darkness around them.
“I’m so sorry for everything. I love you, Mom.”
“I know you are, and I love you more, Evan.”
7 Family Ties
Evan had just finished getting his mother all settled in her room. His exhausted legs carried him to his bedroom where he walked directly to his tall chest of drawers. He opened the second drawer from the top and reached up to grasp something duct taped to the bottom of the drawer above. He sighed deeply with relief when his hand found it right where he’d left it the day before. A quick yank and he freed a hard-shelled, black case designed to hold sunglasses. He popped the case open and stared down at the results of all his hard work at the lab’s workbench.
A lot of good these will do me without the vials, he silently chastised.
With a heavy sigh, Evan closed the case and shoved it deep into the front pocket of his jeans. He looked at his pillow longingly but forced himself to do one last thing before lying down.
He returned to the living room to wake Theo so he could go sleep more restfully in his bed.
“Dr. Andrews?” Evan shook his shoulder gently for the second time trying to rouse him from a deep sleep. This time, Theo snorted then opened his eyes wide enough to squint up at Evan for a moment before sleep backed off and allowed recognition to rise to the surface.
“Evan?” He looked around the room. “Where’s your mother?”
“I already helped her to bed, sir. It’s pretty late. You’ll probably want to join her.”
Theo stood on stiff legs and immediately put his arm around Evan’s shoulder. “It’s good to have you home, Ev.” His guy embrace was completely unexpected. Evan regretted standing stiff and unresponsive until it was too late and the doctor had stepped away.
“Did you apologize to your mother for acting like an ass?” Theo asked matter-of-factly.
“Yes, sir.” Evan lowered his eyes.
“Good. I imagine Margo was thrilled to see you, Son.” He spoke over his shoulder as he shuffled toward the hallway, his joints popping in defiance.
“I think she was.” Evan nodded subtly. “I’m pretty sure the other kids won’t be quite as welcoming.”
Theo stopped shuffling and turned back to look at Evan thoughtfully. “You know the best thing about family, Evan? We are at our strongest when we are together. The other kids know that. I would venture to bet our Meg knows that, too…somewhere deep down. So, no, don’t expect to be welcomed home, Ev, ’cause as far as we’re concerned, you never left.” He smiled a tight-lipped smile then nodded once before turning away with a wave over his head.
Evan stood in amazement at his words.
“G’night, Son.” Theo added before turning to his room where the love of his life lay sleeping.
Theo stopped to use the restroom before washing up and walking around to his side of the bed. His foot hit something heavy. Sleepily, he reached down to retrieve what he already knew to be the Winter Family’s photo album. By the soft light of the street lamp spilling into the room, he opened the book and landed right at the photo of Evan and his mother hamming it up for the camera.
Theo sighed heavily, placed the photo album on his bedside table and moved back to the edge of the bed. He knelt with only the cushion of his thin pajama pants to buffer his knees from the hard tile floor. In the silence of the night, he prayed for his family.
8 No Rest for the Weary
Back in the living room, Evan was still standing in the same spot, rubbing the stubble on his chin deep in thought when Alik stepped quietly into the room wearing pajama bottoms, a white T-shirt and sneakers with no socks.
“Do you hear that?” he whispered to Evan.
Creed was right behind Alik. He’d yanked on a pair of worn blue jeans over his boxers. “I hear it,” he growled. He’d taken an extra moment to slip on unlaced boots and grab his bedside firearm of choice. The black Glock glistened even in the dim light of the Winters’ humble home.
Cole walked in behind Creed, rubbing his face trying to wake up. “Is this a drill or for real?” he whispered.
Evan looked over at the three boys and squinted through exhausted eyes. He forced himself to listen.
He heard nothing—no noise at all.
Not a cricket or bird.
Not a car or motorcycle.
Nothing.
“Shit, this is bad—” he started to whisper, eyes widening with a fresh rush of adrenaline despite his physical fatigue.
Farrow and Sloan bound from their room. Both girls had thrown on some clothes and were trying to quietly shove their feet into shoes.
Alik glanced at Creed armed and nodded as he walked on stealth feet to the gun cabinet. No more words were exchanged. Every metahuman stepped forward and geared up. They’d discussed this before, and right about now, they were glad they’d devised an emergency escape plan.
They were no fools. Their lives had been one attack after another. Just because they were supposed to be in hiding didn’t mean they couldn’t be found.
Farrow and Sloan split up. Sloan ran to Margo and Theo’s room to rouse them and get them loaded into the van. Farrow ran to get Danny and Maze. The boys took predetermined positions around the room, each quickly yanking the wooden barricades from where they’d been stowed since the family made them four months ago.
Creed’s deft hands grabbed the electric screwdriver and had the window sealed inside twenty seconds. He tossed the tool to Cole, who repeated the process barricading his window. Evan removed night goggles from the cabinet beneath the window he would secure and tossed a pair across the room to Creed. Cole finished his window and threw the screwdriver to Evan who caught it fluidly with his right hand while he tossed another pair of glasses to Cole. Evan was the last to secure his window, then slipped his own night vision glasses over his eyes and peered outside, gun in hand ready to defend his family.
Creed was doing the same thing on his side of the room, feeling calm and deadly—as if he were finally home when an attack was imminent. He was planting blocks of C-4 explosives in strategic load-bearing walls around the center of the house and setting up their timed detonators, but didn’t start their countdown just yet.
Alik had been gathering his mom’s purse, Theo’s wallet and the keys to the van. He then moved to grab two thick satchels from the front closet and ran to the back of the house where the others waited anxiously to load up.
One of the reasons Margo and Theo had chosen this house over others was because of its tactically desirable position at the top of a hill. Also, it was close to two easily accessible highways making escape more likely. And the last reason: This home was built by an American who was accustomed to the convenience of an attached garage.
Alik moved with skilled calm. He had the family loaded in the van and Theo ready to drive like a bat out of hell before the gunfire started.
As Alik was ducking out of the van, Danny reached up, wrapped his pudgy arms around his brother’s neck. He kissed him on the cheek and whispered, “I love you, Alik.”
<
br /> Margo’s angry face softened at the simple words from her not-quite four-year-old.
“Love you, too big man. Take care of Mom for me,” he shrugged gently from his little brother’s arms and nodded to Theo. One glance at his mother and he knew she’d slipped into soldier-mode. Her gun cocked and loaded in her lap.
“We’ll see you at the billboard,” she nodded tersely. “Get yourself and the others there in one piece, Alik.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
As the family watched Alik duck out of the van and run back into the house, Theo muttered, “I was hoping this night would never come.”
“It’s always just a matter of time, Theo. At least Evan’s here to help.”
Maze yawned nervously, letting out a small squeak. Danny patted his lap and smiled widely when the coydog carefully climbed to sit beside him.
Farrow and Sloan were rechecking their weapons. They were to provide cover fire in the event the van was followed by guns. A quick glance over at Sloan’s shaking hands had Farrow reaching out to check and load her weapon for her. She handed it back to the young doctor carefully.
“This is live, Sloan,” Farrow whispered. “Do not raise that weapon unless you intend to shoot to kill. There are no second chances. Got it?”
Sloan’s gray eyes were as wide as saucers, but she managed a nod.
Alik ran back into the house and put his night vision glasses on before taking up his position. His body was responding to the adrenaline—he was hulking out. Without even looking, he knew his eyes were glowing violet as he forced himself to breathe slow, deep breaths. The elastic on his pajama bottoms stretched to accommodate his expanding size. He had to blink to clear his vision. So rapid was his change; his eyes took a fraction of a second to focus.
“Status?” He breathed as quietly as he could.
“Movement in the east,” Evan whispered back.
“Looks like a freakin’ party in the west.” Cole’s anger was right at the surface.
“They are not screwing around if that’s what I think it is,” Creed growled.
“What do you see?” Alik moved to stand beside his brother at the front door. Creed had shoved a heavy bookcase against it for coverage, but was peering through a crack in the side window.
“Is that—?”
“RPG! Duck and cover!” Creed yelled to the room.
All four boys landed on their bellies, ripped off their night vision glasses, rolled behind furniture and covered their heads.
The night was cut by a screaming knife as the rocket propelled grenade careened through the front door, igniting the pages of the books on the bookcase as it flew and exploded right above their heads. The living room lit with a burst of light.
Evan leaped to his feet, having avoided the shrapnel blast, but wasn’t about to let this go unpunished. Primal fury had him yelling into the blast of light.
“You want to fight?” he screamed into the ripped night. He held his hand out to the flames and light bursting through the living room. As if attached to a rope, the light jumped from the air and zipped directly into his outstretched, scarred hand.
Alik, Creed and Cole looked on with awe as they watched from their prone positions.
“Leave my family the hell alone!” Evan screamed and hurled the light right back where it came from. The night sky lit up exposing the circus of soldiers clambering for cover as Evan’s blast rocketed back. When it made contact, the boys could hear echoes of surprised screams.
Dust was still billowing through the shattered front door when a barrage of gunfire attacked from the east and west corners of the house. The simple yellow house with a wrap-around front porch was instantly peppered with bullet holes from no fewer than a half-dozen automatic assault rifles.
They knew better than to try to open their eyes much less move. After Evan threw his return fire, he dove behind the nearest sofa and landed right beside his brother Alik.
Crashing roars of bullets ripping the house to shreds were deafening. Shattered debris from its wooden frame spun like shrapnel-shaped acrobats through the air. Desperately trying to protect each other, the brothers locked forearms, all prior animosity forgotten in the heady breath of violence.
As quickly as the gunfire began, it halted leaving what looked like a war zone in its path.
“No one better be dead or we are so screwed,” Cole muttered under his breath.
“Ready for round two?” Creed whispered to the room. The boys were peering around the torn furniture to get visual checks on everyone else. Cole’s head was bleeding, but it looked like a simple flesh wound. He gave a reassuring thumbs-up to the frowns he was getting from the others.
On Creed’s queue, they began commando-crawling past the blocks of C-4 that hadn’t already detonated thanks to the RPG. In their planning for this day, they knew they wanted to take out as many assailants as they could, so Margo had given Creed and Farrow free rein to make the plastic explosives when they first moved into the yellow house on the hill. Evan was too badly injured at the time to be of assistance other than to watch them manipulate the compound and stabilizing agents with their smooth, undamaged hands.
This is what Evan was thinking about when he heard a creak come from the hallway. The boys were on the floor of the kitchen making their way to the garage door in the back of the house, as was their established plan. They were always supposed to be the decoys, drawing the fire to the house while the rest of the family escaped. Then everyone would meet at an old, abandoned billboard just off the highway 7.8 miles from the airport.
That was the plan.
The creak down the hall was not part of the plan.
Shit! The boys collectively thought but remained absolutely silent and listening.
The boys stood and for a moment debated whether they should make a run for it or stay and fight it out. Cole motioned to the back door. The other three glanced at each other and shook their heads, no. Cole rolled his eyes in the dark, but nodded in agreement.
Creak. Shuffle.
Creed spun his finger in the air and Cole and Evan scattered to the far corners of the room while Alik and Creed flanked either side of the pitch-black hallway. They were all listening intently when someone on the opposing team crunched down hard on one of Danny’s forgotten toy cars.
The footsteps came more quickly.
The boys steeled themselves for the onslaught.
9 Defend or Attack
The ornate, green palms on either side of the front door were shredded in the wake of the RPG. Their fan-like leaves swayed in the breeze to the chorus of frantic screams coming from neighboring houses.
Evan’s attention was on the beam of moonlight right within reach, but everything changed at the sound of boots crunching in the thick grass on the front lawn.
They’re attacking from both sides! Damn it!
A quick glance at Alik was all Evan had time for when three deadly barrels of assault rifles stepped from the shadows of the hallway. The gunfire was deafening.
Creed grabbed the hot barrel with his bare hands and in one swift motion shoved it back into the soldier’s solar plexus knocking the wind out of the attacker. He spun the weapon in his hand and opened fire.
Pop, pop, pop!
Like ants, the soldiers dressed in full battle gear spilled into the room until gunfire, shouts of violence and skin-on-skin smacks echoed off what remained of the living room walls.
Alik’s massive size didn’t slow him from using his viper speed. He turned to the side, avoiding the trifecta of bullets aimed at his face. With his left hand, he shoved the rifle to point up and slammed his fist into the curve of the soldier’s elbow. One strategic punch to his nose had shards of bone exploding in the soldier’s brain causing death on impact.
Creed yanked the weapon from the hands of the nearest soldier, swung and punched him in the face, spun and followed through with an elbow to the throat, a swift jabbed from the butt of the rifle up rendered him breathless. Creed finished him off with a
strategic back kick hurling him across the room.
Evan and Cole watched what used to be the front door, having heard the crunching of approaching boots. The first soldier’s black boot had just stepped into view when Cole decided he wasn’t waiting for any more of the enemy to show up. He aimed at the wall and fired three shots in a row. Screams and gurgling sounds proved his instincts correct.
Evan saw the blackness of the night moving, moonlight glinting off the metallic weapons en route to kill. Without thinking, he reached out to the blue light, rolled it in his fingers to angle it most effectively and sent it flying into the team of soldiers.
He didn’t stop to watch the effectiveness of his fire—he already knew by the screams and the scent of burning flesh.
Cole was overtaken by three soldiers. One had him in a headlock and the others were punching him in the gut and sides.
Evan’s glance at Cole took his eyes off his attackers as more poured into the living room filling the small space with what were clearly metahumans. The four boys were facing terrifying odds that just kept getting worse by the second as more soldiers pushed into the melee.
Alik disarmed a soldier, reached out and grabbed him by the elbows and yanked so hard he dislocated both his arms. The guy was screaming, but Evan only saw his mouth open—the place was overflowing with the noise of ruthless violence.
The still-hot tip of a rifle aimed at Evan from the other side of the shredded wall. He could almost imagine the feel of the trigger beneath the attacker’s finger. He knew he had less than a second to either defend or attack.
He decided to do both.
The bullet cut the noise, spinning through the air in slow motion as Evan jumped to the side, aimed a ball of firelight at the soldier and sent the burst directly into the eyes, blinding him instantly.
Evan looked down at his hand in amazement, never having created a blinding flash of light before.
He practiced his newfound skill next on the guys beating the crap out of Cole. Once released, Cole yanked his gun from his back and fired one round in each of the soldiers who’d been breaking his ribs for fun.
Winter's Legacy: Future Days (Winter's Saga Book 6) Page 5
