“How long do I have until morning?”
Zane shakes his head. Not long. It’s been hours since he was here.
It feels like minutes.
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
Fingers on my chin. You can, Kate. You have to. No one else is strong enough to fight him. I can’t. Not like this, not when I’m so unstable. I’m just as likely to hurt the good guys as I am the bad guys. Someone like me could never stop Richard Glass.
“That’s why you won’t help me,” I realize. “You’re afraid your own insanity would destroy everything.”
It would. I can’t control my anger.
“But you’re expecting me to.”
You’re stubborn enough to refuse your own fear. I think you can handle anger. He pauses. Besides, I’m clinically insane. I’ve been labeled a schizophrenic, Kate.
“Schizophrenic?”
I hear and see things that aren’t there. I hallucinate. I can’t fight a man like Richard Glass when I have a hard time deciphering reality from hallucination. I can’t fight him.
Agony in his expression. I understand now, I think. He doesn’t want to jeopardize the only chance of freedom for Chicago, from Richard Glass. He could end up hurting people because of his schizophrenia. He’s dangerous. Because one wrong move, one hallucination just a little too real, and he could destroy any hope we have of destroying Glass.
Oh.
“But you want to help me?”
In every way I can, he promises, vows. I taught you how to fight. You’re ready for this. Once you’ve been experimented on, as an opportunity for escape will not present itself until then, you’re number one priority will be escape. Find someone you can trust and find Richard Glass’s weakness. Finish what I can’t.
I’m nodding, resolve hard, solidifying into steel. If it is the last thing I do, I will bring down Richard Glass.
Zane pauses, cocks his head, listens. He’s coming back. It must be morning. His fingers are tight around my chin. Be brave, Kate. Look for opportunities and exits.
He steps back and I stare at him. He’s so calm, so put together. It makes things hard to remember, easy to forget. His anger, his insanity, the fact that he has voices in his head and faces behind his eyes.
“Miss Katherine McCallister.”
I turn, jolt, look at Pelletier. He stands outside the cage, hands in the pockets of a white lab coat. Accompanying him are three men, all armed, hands on their weapons. I grimace. Zane was right. No chance of escape now.
Pelletier nods to two of the men. One opens the cage door, the other readies his gun.
I can’t help it. I shrink back against the wall. Because despite Zane’s assurances and my determination to feel no fear, I know I am not ready for this. How could I be? How can I ever be ready to stop a madman, even when my father and Zane and so many others have already failed?
A growl fills the air. I look. Zane. A black wolf, with midnight fur and icy eyes and he’s growling and snarling and baring his teeth. He moves slowly, head lowered, eyes hard, muzzle twisted into a snarl. Soon enough, Wolf-Zane is standing in front of me, a barrier between the armed men and me. Protecting me.
A gunshot splits the air.
The wolf whines, stumbles, falls. Red. Scarlet. Bright blood. In his fur, on the floor.
And now there’s Zane, standing in the wolf’s place. Zane, holding a hand over his bleeding side. Zane, pale-faced, grimacing, watching as two armed men grab me, pull me out of the cage. Zane, falling into the wall, no longer able to keep himself standing.
I scream, squirming against the grip of the guards. A gun at my back, arms tight around my arms like manacles. The armed men are chains dragging me out of the cage, into the hall, away from Zane, toward Pelletier.
“No!” I scream. My hands are fists, my legs are frozen, my heart is on fire. Because they shot Zane, because I’m still not ready to do this, because I won’t leave Zane alone in here.
They pull me out of the cage, shut the door, lock a bleeding Zane inside. I lash out. Kick, scream, fight in every way, anyway I can.
Bad decision.
Because Zane warned me what would happen if I struggled, because these men aren’t going to be patient with me. The butt of a gun against the back of my head. Sharp pain. A surprised gasp. Eyes rolling back into my head. Body limp in the arms of the armed men.
Blackness.
Zandra
“Project One seems to grow more and more anxious, and more and more curious. Needs to be taken care of.”
-Dr. Pelletier’s notes
Twenty-Seven
She’s unconscious. Held up by a couple of soldiers, her mouth is open, her eyes are closed, her body is limp. She’ll have a killer headache when she wakes up.
She’ll have more than that.
Today is the day Katherine McCallister becomes Project Five. Today is the day they attempt perfection again. Today is the day she loses her sanity.
I sit on the steel rafters above the cage. Watching a furious, bleeding Zane. Watching Pelletier lead the soldiers and the limp girl out of the room. I straddle the metal, silent, wincing for the young woman, grimacing for Zane. This is not a good day for either of them.
The door shuts, Pelletier is gone, Katherine McCallister has been dragged into a lab for experimentation. I slid off the rafter, hover down the ground.
“You can’t stay out of trouble, can you?”
Zane looks at me, hand still over his bleeding side. Evidently not.
I step forward. “You should stop saving people,” I say. “You’d get shot a lot less.”
Heroics are second nature for me, Zandra. It’s kind of hard to shut that off.
“And yet you refuse to be a hero and help Miss McCallister fight.”
Zane shakes his head, stands, drops his arm from his side. No more blood. Dark stains that have stopped now. Part of being an experiment. He’s healing. The same way we all do. Instantaneously.
You’ve been eavesdropping.
“And you didn’t notice. Not a very good spy.” A wry smile. “Tell me, Zane, why would you teach her to fight if you are so convinced no one can bring down Glass?”
She’s different.
“Aren’t we all?” Bitterness is poison in my words.
Zane shakes his head, steps closer to the bars. You misunderstand. We’re all very different because of the experiment. She’s more than that. Her resolve to stop him is stronger than mine ever was. If it’s possible to destroy Richard Glass, she will be the one to do it.
“She doesn’t have the motivation,” I say, cold, hard, doubtful. “I have motive, me alone.”
No. Not truly. Yes, you hate him. But we all do. Yes, I have heroics. But she has more than that. She’s stubborn and angry and braver than anyone before her. After her experiment, if she can control herself, she will be basically unstoppable. Richard Glass won’t stand a chance.
“And if she loses control?”
Zane grimaces. If she loses control, her war against Glass will be over before it begins.
Fingers on the silver whip in my hand, tight around metal, ready to be used, ready to kill. Ready to kill Richard Glass. I would do it. I am so ready to do it.
Anger for the wrongs done. Agony for an inability to stop him. Frustration for no vengeance won. It must be clear on my face. Because Zane is frowning and watching me so carefully and I think he’s disappointed in me.
Don’t let him make you a monster, Zandra. You are so young. Revenge is destructive. If you kill Richard Glass, if you destroy him like you want to, if you make him burn, you will never be free of anger. Your world will become a very dark place.
“How do I you know that?” I snap.
Zane’s gaze is steady and the only thing between us is a wall of steel bars. Because I have been there. Revenge is dark.
“I can’t feel any other way.” Through gritted teeth. Oh, I am angry.
You can. Let her deal with Glass. Kate McCallister can bring down Glass. S
he won’t do it for revenge. It won’t drag her down like it would if it were you that killed him. She will do what is necessary but no more.
“How could you possibly know that?”
Calm, composed, somehow so put together, despite the voices in his head, despite the darkness placed inside of him, despite what Richard Glass has done to him.
Because I’ve seen it. He rocks back on his heels. A few months ago, when Pelletier first made his offer, and when she told him he could choose to let her walk free or deal with the consequences of a vengeful woman, I would have thought she was only after revenge. That this was about killing Richard Glass for kidnapping her, for tearing her life apart.
I raise an eyebrow. Because I’m confused and not sure what he’s trying to say and skeptical about Miss McCallister. “Is there a point you’re trying to make? Or are you a crazy rambler thinking about a pretty girl?”
The point is I was wrong about her. Sure she’s angry about being kidnapped and she hates Richard Glass. But I’ve seen a different side of her while teaching her.
Zandra, Kate McCallister is a hero, even if she doesn’t know it yet. She won’t stand for injustice. She won’t allow people to be in danger, to keep losing themselves like I did. It’s not revenge that fuels her. It’s bravery. She’s protecting people.
Now, I’m shaking my head. “Zane, how could you know that? You’ve barely talked to her, except to lecture her on her fighting.”
I’m a spy, he says, rolling his eyes, shaking his head. I’m pretty good at reading people. When she fights, I can see it in the way she moves. She doesn’t want to kill anyone. Not really. She’s hesitant to deliver a hard blow. Because even if she’s a fighter and a rebel and very angry, she’s not apathetic. She doesn’t want to hand out death. Not like you or I would.
“And this makes her a hero?”
I’m so confused. Because I can’t understand how this war can be won if Glass lives. Because I know he has to die. Because I know if she won’t kill him I’ll have to.
Zane turns, stares at the wall of claws and tears in the steel. I’ve had a lot of time to think about what a hero is, Zandra, he mouths, looking back at me. And I realized I never was one. All I wanted was a joy ride and a way to avenge the brother I lost years ago. It was never about helping people. I was about satisfying my own needs. And I wasn’t prepared to sacrifice everything.
He lets out his breath. But she is. None of this about her. She just wants to protect those already lost to the Project and stop it from continuing. No revenge. This is about saving humanity from a madman. Nothing else.
I study his face. He’s so serious, so intense, so confident. He trusts this girl to do what he couldn’t. He trusts her to stay sane enough to destroy the Project but not her own humanity. And if he trusts her so completely, I have to wonder what she did to deserve that.
“You will put your faith in her.”
She’s our last chance, Zandra.
I sigh. Because it’s hard to argue with him. Charismatic, convincing, confident. Everything he says makes so much sense. I don’t know how to believe anything different.
“Then I will see what I can do to help her,” I say. “I’ll find her a way out. You’re right. If I kill Richard Glass, it will drag me down and I will never arise. If you believe she can do what I want to do without destroying herself, I trust your judgment.”
Thank you.
I pause. “Zane, what is she to you?”
He frowns. What?
“Oh, come on. I was watching you two. Either I’m starting to hallucinate or you’ve got feelings for her.”
His face is hard. No. She is our hope. That’s all I see her as.
He’s lying. And I don’t know why. But I can’t push him, can’t force him to admit something he’s terrified to. I don’t know why he’s denying it but I know I will never make him see. He is choosing to be blind and I can’t change that.
“Very well,” I whisper. “I will find her. With luck, she’ll be out of here before tomorrow.”
Be careful.
I snap the whip against steel and electricity sparks. “I will do my part to help the heroine who doesn’t see herself that yet. Whether it kills me or not.”
Kate
“Project Five has been deemed: FAILED.”
-Dr. Pelletier’s notes
Twenty-Eight
Heavy.
I weight a thousand pounds. My heart is gold and my lungs are steel and my bones are titanium. It’s a burden. Because I can’t move, I can’t open my eyes, I can barely breathe. Because everything is heavy, glued down with drowsiness, held down by pain.
I’ve been hit by a train. A train that’s sitting on top of me now. A train pressing me against cold metal.
I try to remember, try to think, try to understand what led me to this place. What happened? Where am I? How long has it been? Why am I so heavy all of the sudden?
Bleeding wolves. Screaming girls. Impatient guards.
Oh.
I remember it. The clarity of agony against my skull. The sinking of a body. Limp limbs. Fuzzy thoughts, sleepy eyelids, agonized unconsciousness. I was knocked out.
And now I can hear them talking. Because everything is becoming clearer, lighter, less painful. I can hear Pelletier’s voice. “She will be the best one yet,” he’s saying. “None of the others have as many genes as she does.”
“Get her to cooperate and I will consider this a success.”
An unfamiliar voice. A stranger. With the voice of a violent storm, rumbling, threatening, cold and angry and lifeless, all at once.
Silence fills the room and I realize I am alone. I can feel it. The air is different. Empty, free of other people’s breath. I wonder if this is animal instinct or simply a new awareness.
I open my eyes. Blinded by fluorescent light. Blink. Once, twice, three times. And now everything is clear. I can see the bright steel ceiling, hear the beeping of a monitor, feel the cool table beneath me.
I sit up. The world spins.
A hand to my head and I feel something sharp on my forehead. I pull my hand away, look at it, stare. Because this doesn’t make sense, because there’s no way I’m seeing claws on my fingertips.
“Look who’s awake.”
I jump to my feet, the room dances before my eyes. I feel sick but I push it down. “What do you want?” My voice is a low growl.
My stalker, kidnapper, torturer. Smirking at me. “Just here to see the show. You see, every experiment is fine for a couple of minutes. And then the pain starts to seep in. So much of it that they don’t even know they’re in pain. They just feel crazy. I want to watch you lose your mind.”
Fat chance of that.
Every day, every night, every second of every minute of every hour, I have dreamed about hurting him like he has hurt me. Because he destroyed Kate McCallister as she was, because he made me know fear, because he forced me to be a captive. And now he will pay for it.
I lunge forward and he’s reaching for his gun but he’s not fast enough. Because I push him to the ground, shove my knee into his throat.
“You misjudged me,” I hiss. “I am not a damsel in distress. I am an angry psycho girl who does not fear the fight.”
He laughs but it comes out strangled. “So this is what you will become? A murderer?”
I snort. “Why would I waste my time on you? No, I will let you live. And let you explain to Richard Glass how I got away.”
And even his face pales at the thought of telling his boss that Project Five escaped. He is not afraid of me or Zane. But he is terrified of the monster he works for.
I slam a fist down on his head and he goes cold. Unconscious.
I stand. Straighten. Set my shoulders back. It’s time to escape. It’s time to stop Richard Glass. It’s time to end this. Once and for all. Forevermore. I will beat him.
Run.
I sprint down hallways of steel and my feet strike the ground with a stone cold heartbeat. Faster. I’m picking
up speed now. Moving fast, too fast, far too fast. My feet are barely touching the ground. Bare feet skimming metal floors.
Speed. How am I doing this? How am I going so fast? It’s not human.
I almost stop in the middle of the hall. Because I know why. Because I know why I can run like this. Because I know why I’m so fast. The experiment. Done. I am not human anymore. I am animal.
I’m moving faster now. My feet barely touch the ground. Everything is whirring past me and I can’t see anything at all. Focus. One thing at a time. One step in front of the other. The steel floor in front of me. Door after door. A cage—
A jarring stop, stumbling against the bars of a cage, steadying myself. Amazing. Incredible Exhilarating. I laugh. It’s beautiful. And speed is freedom.
Kate?
“Hi.”
You escaped.
“Not yet. I’m still here.”
Get out. You’ve got a war to wage.
“Come with me.”
The words slip from my mouth without any kind of permission. He told me this wasn’t his fight. I knew he wouldn’t be coming with me when I got here, I knew he wouldn’t help me, I knew this was my fight to fight alone. But I asked him to come anyway.
I can’t fight.
“I’m not asking you to,” I say. “Just come with me. Leave this place. I don’t care what you do after that. But you don’t deserve to rot away in here, Zane.”
Yes, I do. Kate—
Angry voices. Gunshots. I’m out of time.
You have to go.
“I’m not going to just—”
I stop. Because he’s reached a hand through the cage. Because he’s touched my lips with light fingertips. Because he’s silencing me with a touch.
You can’t worry about me. You have to get out of here. You have a man to stop. Experiments to put to an end. You can’t stay here. You can’t help me.
He’s touching my lips. Like I’ve wanted him to for months. He’s touching me and he’s looking at me and I don’t care if he’s not seeing me like I’m seeing him. Because he’s touching me.
The Invincibles (Book 1): Trapped: A girl. A monster. A hero. Page 12
