by J. Bryan
The steep road took them up toward a brick wall with square towers at each end. As they drew closer, Juliana saw guards in the watchtowers, partially shielded by metal-grill walls, with machine guns mounted below the grillwork. A coil of wire ran across the top of the brick wall, and the gate was made of steel doors. Juliana had imagined a place that looked sort of like a college, set among trees and mountain streams, but this looked more like a prison than any kind of research lab.
“Do not fear,” Alise told her, seeing the look on her face. “It is all for our security. The inside is nice.”
“Okay,” Juliana replied. She couldn’t think of anything else to say. She had a sudden urge to announce that she’d changed her mind and wanted to go home right away.
Guards were posted at the gate, and they spoke briefly to Alise before opening up for them. Niklaus drove them inside.
Juliana didn’t think the interior was at all nice, either. The brick wall was actually a big square perimeter, with a guard tower at each corner. There were four low, squarish buildings, single-story and made of plain concrete, and a long brick building like a warehouse along the western wall. She saw some smaller structures that she took for strangely tall brick water walls, circular and with slanted tin roofs mounted a few feet above them. As they passed one, she saw that it had a whirling electrical fan inside, and seemed to be sucking down a large quantity of air.
Niklaus parked in front of one of the squat concrete buildings and climbed out of the car.
“We’re not staying here, are we?” Sebastian asked. “We’re just stopping here for a minute, and then driving on to the real place. Right?”
“This is the end of your long journey,” Alise told him. Niklaus opened the door for Alise and held her hand as she stepped down.
“I knew we couldn’t trust that Barrett guy,” Sebastian whispered to Juliana.
“Then why did you come?” Juliana whispered.
“To watch out for you. I knew you wouldn’t turn down a chance to find a cure.”
“I don’t have as much hope for that now. This place feels wrong.” Juliana sighed. Niklaus opened her door and offered his hand, but she shook her head at him as she climbed out.
They carried their luggage inside the low concrete building, where a single guard sat at a desk in front of a heavy steel door, like the door to a bank vault. He exchanged a few words with Alise as he stood and unlocked the door, and then he grunted as he hauled it open.
Juliana and Sebastian leaned forward, curious. Beyond the door, a wide concrete staircase descended deep underground, lit on both sides by a row of electric bulbs.
“Down here.” Alise smiled and led the way, her polished black flats echoing with each step.
Juliana and Sebastian held hands as they followed, Sebastian’s suitcase bumping as it dragged along the stairs. Niklaus followed, and the guard heaved the door shut behind them. It slammed with an echoing clang, like the door of a prison cell.
The stairway took them to an underground hallway, as brightly lit as a hospital and wide enough to drive a truck through. The floor was concrete, but the walls were plastered white and hung with huge pictures. Some depicted German historical events Juliana didn’t recognize, mostly large battles. Others were different pictures of the same man, an odd, stern-looking person with a Charlie Chaplin mustache. From the German text on the posters, Juliana guessed this was the politician who so excited Alise, Chancellor Hitler. Stormy classical music echoed from somewhere.
“Boys,” Alise said, pointing to the right. Then she pointed to the left and said, “Girls.” She smiled at Juliana, while Niklaus returned Juliana’s suitcase to her.
“Sebastian and I can’t stay together?” Juliana asked.
“We stay on separate halls,” Alise said. “Men and women together on the same hall would be too much fun.”
“Can’t we just stay together for the first night?” Sebastian asked. “While we get accustomed to this place?”
“You will accustom fast,” Alise said. “We will see each other again at dinner, very soon. Maybe even screen a movie tonight, to celebrate that you are here?”
“That sounds nice,” Juliana said.
“This way. No need to fear.” Alise started walking away.
Juliana gave Sebastian a quick hug and a kiss.
“Are you going to be okay?” Sebastian asked.
“I hope so.” Juliana gave him a smile, though she was feeling scared and lost. “I’ll see you at dinner, I suppose.”
He hugged her again. “If anybody gives you any trouble,” he whispered in her ear, “Just kill them.”
Juliana laughed as she reluctantly stepped away from him and followed Alise down the corridor.
“Girls’ hall,” Alise said as she opened a pair of double doors. The short hallway, with five doors on each side, was carpeted and hung with pretty pieces of art, like paintings of flowers and sunset landscapes. The lighting fixtures were encircled with colored glass, and the walls themselves were painted gentle pastel colors. The classical music was louder here, echoing from somewhere up ahead, where the hall ended at another set of double doors.
“Oh, this is much nicer,” Juliana said. “I thought you were joking.”
“I always tell the truth,” Alise said. “Even when people don’t like to hear it, which is nearly always.”
Juliana laughed, and Alise showed her to an open door. Alise knocked on it as they entered.
The dormitory room was wide with a high ceiling. A bed occupied each end of the room, with plenty of open space in between them. Drawers, cabinets, and bookshelves were built into the walls, many more than Juliana could imagine needing for herself.
One side of the room was empty, the walls bare except for the built-in shelves, the bed made up with a colorful quilt thrown on top of it, which looked like it had been made by somebody’s very talented grandmother. The other half of the room was plastered with pictures of Hollywood movie stars cut from magazines and newspapers. A girl lay on the bed there, reading a paperback, and she quickly sat up when Alise and Juliana entered.
“Heil,” Alise greeted the girl, then spoke to her in a language that was neither English nor German—French or Italian, maybe. She gestured to Juliana and mentioned her name, and the girl slowly nodded, glancing nervously at Juliana. Her hair was a dark burgundy, almost black, and her eyes were sea-green. Her skin was olive, and she looked very exotic to Juliana. She wore a long black skirt and a white blouse edged with scraps of bright color. Her hands were gloved almost to her elbow, Juliana noticed.
“Juliana,” Alise said. “This is Mia. She will room with you and help you find your way around. She is from Sicily, but knows a little English.”
“Oh...that’s good.” Juliana smiled, feeling uneasy. “Hello, Mia.”
“Piaciri di canuscirvi. Hello, Juliana.” The girl waved and tried to smile, but her face showed that she was just as nervous as Juliana felt.
“Oh, you’re going to love each other!” Alise said. “I’ll make sure of it. I have to report to General Kranzler and Dr. Wichtmann now, so they know you and Sebastian arrived safely. We’ll talk more at dinner! Any special food requests?”
“Anything to eat would be great. I’m starving,” Juliana said.
“I’ll make sure the cooks give you plenty!” Alise winked as she left the room.
Juliana and Mia looked at each other awkwardly.
“Your bed,” Mia finally said, pointing to the empty side of the room and nodding.
“Thank you.” Juliana carried her suitcase to the bed and sat down. There was another long, awkward pause. She looked at the pictures pasted around Mia’s bed.
“You like movies?” Juliana asked.
“Yes!” Mia said, with an exuberant grin, probably just happy to have something to talk about. She pointed to one of the pictures, an advertisement for the film Red Dust with Clark Gable and Jean Harlow locked in a passionate embrace. “I lived in Rome for a time, many films. You like Clark
Gable?”
“Yes, he’s very handsome,” Juliana said.
“Handsome.” Mia nodded and pointed again. “Douglas Fairbanks?”
“Yes, also handsome.”
“Charlie Chaplin?”
“Very funny!” Juliana said. “I love him.” She looked over the girl’s pictures. “You like Mae West?”
“Mae West, yes!”
They shared a smile—Mae West was bold, flirty, and fearless, which, as a woman, made her controversial and the talk of much scandal. A modern, outspoken woman who just happened to be gorgeous and glamorous.
“How long have you been here?” Juliana asked.
Mia concentrated. “Many days. One...week? Or is it month?”
“I’m not sure. Do you have a touch?” Juliana raised her hands and nodded at the gloves Mia wore. “Like me?”
Mia leaned forward, raising her eyebrows like she was about to share some good gossip. “I see your future.” Mia stripped off her gloves and stood up, striding towards Juliana, closing the door along the way. “I can show you.”
“No, wait! I’m poisonous.”
Mia hesitated in mid-step. “Poisonous?”
“Yes. I can’t help it.” Juliana took off a glove and spread her fingers. She called up the demon plague, letting her hand fester into open sores.
Mia gasped and stumbled back to her own bed, where she pulled up her knees protectively. Juliana started to regret bringing up the subject of their powers.
“I am sorry,” Juliana said. “But you should be warned. No touching me, for your own safety.”
“No touching.” Mia shook her head, staring warily at her now.
“I am sorry,” Juliana told her again. She lay back on her new bed, looking up at the pastel-pink ceiling. She’d felt the possible beginning of a friendship with the girl, but now she’d scared her away. Everyone else had something useful: Sebastian could heal, Alise could make people happy, Mia could see the future. Only Juliana had a useless curse, one that could only hurt people.
Even among the freaks, she was a freak.
Chapter Nineteen
Ward approached the grimy concrete building housing the nightclub, as well as a bail bond place and a pawn shop that had both closed until morning. The club was in the half-buried basement of the strip mall, and its entrance was at the back, not visible from the road. Broken bottles littered the gravel parking lot, which was crowded with cars even though it was the day after Christmas.
Two doors led into the basement. One of them had been surrounded by chainlink to form a smoking pen, where a few kids in spiked, dark mesh clothes smoked cigarettes. A boy whose earlobe had been stretched to grotesque proportions was making out with a girl who had a long needle through her eyebrow.
His target, Tommy, sat on a stool by the other door. It was propped open, and the sound of a loud band slamming their instruments pulsed out from inside the dark club.
Ward approached Tommy, flanked by Buchanan and Avery, who stayed a half-step behind him. They all wore thick leather gloves tonight, and he’d warned them not to touch Tommy at all if they could avoid it. The boy’s touch could shatter a man’s mind with fear.
Tommy looked them over sullenly as they approached, studying their dark suits and ties. He smelled like he hadn’t bathed in a couple of days, and his long hair was dirty and tangled.
“I don’t think this is really your scene, guys,” Tommy said as they stood before him. “Somewhere in Orange County, an Applebee’s is calling your name.”
“We didn’t come for the music or ambiance, Mr. White,” Ward said.
Tommy sat up on his stool, and his eyes widened. He glanced among the three of them, probably realizing that he couldn’t win a straight fight, and would need his power if he wanted to escape. Ward didn’t want him running just yet.
“Settle down, we’re not here to hurt you,” Ward told him. “That is your name, isn’t it? Thomas White? Also known as Thomas Krueger? Currently going by Thomas Voorhees. Cute.”
“Who are you?” Tommy asked.
“We are with the Department of Defense,” Ward said. “We know you escaped from a maximum-security penitentiary in Louisiana, and the guards there would just love to have you back. We also know that you killed your foster father, Ben Tanner, just before you went and caused that riot in Charleston. Your foster mother says you were a very disturbed boy.”
“You talked to her?” Tommy asked.
“She’s doing well with Mr. Tanner dead, I’d say. Spent some of the life insurance money on a candy-pink Le Baron convertible. Didn’t you think she looked well, Buchanan, in that red Christmas dress?”
“Yes, very healthy,” Buchanan replied.
Tommy shrugged, as though indifferent to his foster mother’s fate.
“Have you ever played Monopoly, Tommy?” Ward asked. “I’m offering you a little orange Get Out of Jail Free card. We can expunge your entire criminal record, make you a free man. No more scurrying around in the dark.”
“In exchange for what?” Tommy asked. He had a cornered-rat look in his eyes, still deciding whether to fight or flee.
“In exchange, you serve our country. You apply your fear-inducing ability toward protecting American interests around the world. Surely you don’t want to do this for the rest of your life.” Ward pointed inside the dark, loud club.
Tommy shrugged. “This job’s okay.”
“It’s okay? Son, you have a tremendous power inside you. You’ve got to have some ambition, don’t you? You could be out there making the world safe for America. You could be a hero instead of a criminal. Wouldn’t you like that?”
“What’s it pay?” Tommy asked.
“Pay?” Ward shook his head, exasperated. He was ready to punch the kid in the nose. “We’re talking about you finally doing something worthwhile with your life. You’ve got to look at the bigger picture here.”
“So the pay sucks,” Tommy said.
“It has to be more than you’re making here,” Ward said. “Room, board, medical, and we’ll pay you what we pay the Special Forces guys. Is that good enough? Or do you want to sit on this goddamn stool collecting dollar bills from drugged-out kids until it’s time for you to go back to prison with an extended sentence? What the hell are your plans for your life?”
Tommy sank on his seat, looking like a petulant child.
“Wake up, kid,” Ward said. “This is your only chance. You’ve got to see that.”
“I’ll think about it.” Tommy scratched his head.
Ward shook his head in disbelief. What was the kid’s problem?
“We want your girl to come, too,” Ward added. “Esmeralda, the one who can speak with the dead? We want both of you. Go and talk to her about it, too.”
“You want Esmeralda, too?”
“Isn’t that what I said?” Ward glared at the dirty, long-haired kid and tried to keep his temper under control. “Go and talk to her about it,” he repeated.
“I guess I will.” Tommy shrugged.
“You’ve got twenty-four hours,” Ward said. “It shouldn’t take you twenty-four seconds to make this choice. At your age, it’s time to stop being a slacker and start being a man.” Ward handed him a plain white business card—no logo, no name, just a single phone number. “We’ll be back tomorrow. Call if you come to your senses before then.” Ward turned and walked away, followed by his two assistants.
“I’m not working tomorrow,” Tommy said.
“You’re barely working now,” Ward replied without looking back. “Don’t worry, we always know where to find you. Just don’t do anything stupid between now and then.”
When they returned to the car, the wheels in Ward’s mind were turning. He’d believed that Tommy had been the leader of a small group of paranormals, but he was starting to doubt that assessment. The kid could barely lead himself to the bathroom to take a piss. The faction must have had a different leader...maybe the zombie-master guy, but he was dead, according to Heather Reynard’s me
mories. Killed by Seth’s healing power, somehow.
So, Ward reasoned, maybe Tommy and Esmeralda didn’t have a leader anymore, they were just wandering without any direction at all. Ward was prepared to give them one.
Their next stop was a motel not far from Tommy and Esmeralda’s apartment, just off the interstate. They would listen to the device Buchanan had set up, a laser listening system pointed at the apartment window. The laser translated glass vibrations back into sound, creating a clean way to bug a room without ever entering the premises. They would be able to hear what Tommy and Esmeralda’s thoughts might be regarding whether to serve their country or not.
“Kid looks like a real loser,” Avery commented as they pulled out onto a busy boulevard.
“We’ll see,” Ward replied.
* * *
“You have to come with me,” Tommy said. He’d already crammed half his clothes into a duffel bag, and he was trying to shove more into it.
“The only thing I have to do is catch the bus,” Esmeralda told him, buttoning her blouse. It was seven in the morning and Tommy’s eyes were open, which meant he’d skipped sleeping after he’d gotten home from work. He looked disheveled, with a sheen of nervous sweat. “Why don’t you take a bath?” she asked him.
“You’re not listening, Esmeralda. They’re going to delete my prison record. If I don’t do what they want, they’ll probably send me back to prison. I don’t have a choice.”
“You could ride away,” Esmeralda said. “Go hide somewhere new.”
“If I did that, would you come with me?”
“I can’t, Tommy. I have school, and my mother. And you know how much trouble I had finding another job after I ran away last time.” She pulled on a pair of dark slacks. “And that crappy new job is where I need to be in thirty minutes.”
“This is our big chance to really do something with our lives. Don’t you want that?” He reached for her arm, but she shook him off.
