XGeneration 7: Dead Hand (XGeneration Series)

by Brad Magnarella

  “You know,” Scott said, another memory glimmering in his eyes, “when we faced the Scale up in the Grove, nothing happened to Titan when Margaret used her powers against him.”

  Janis snorted. “That’s because she never used them. It was all a show.”

  “But why help us against the Russian mercenaries at school?”

  Janis fell back to the moment when she thought Margaret had been shot and killed, the same numbness possessing her. “Maybe because that wasn’t a Scale action,” she said, “and without the Witch’s clairvoyance to consult, Khoggi didn’t know the Russians’ end game. Because when he wanted Margaret to act, she did.”

  “Like making sure Reginald didn’t get into that crypto-modem.” Scott hesitated. “But how…?”

  “Did I not detect all the things Margaret was keeping from us? I’ve been asking myself the same question. Part of it was not looking for it. I mean, she’s … Margaret. She’s my freaking sister. And that’s the other part. Being my sister, I think she’s resistant to my mind probes. Just as I’m able to block her influence, she can elude mine. When I scanned all of you, looking for the mole, she came back clean, remember?”

  “So, what was Agent Steel holding onto for dear life?” Scott asked.

  “Oh. A secret crush on Director Kilmer.”

  “Really?”

  “Margaret could have extracted that with her suggestive powers. But there again, she let Agent Steel remain under suspicion so she could continue to operate freely. All this time I was worried about her being vulnerable, and she was manipulating the whole show. Program agents, Director Kilmer, us.”

  Janis steeled her jaw against the cauldron of emotions stirring inside her: shock, anger, confusion, hurt. She swung her legs off the side of the bed and soon found herself standing in front of her dresser. She had propped Khoggi’s gift, the stuffed camel she’d awoken to in a German hospital, beside her trophies, and now she picked it up.

  She regarded the glass-marble eyes and the little stitched smile before tearing the doll’s head from its body. As she watched the two parts of the camel fall from her hands, the first tears dribbled down her cheeks. She swiped them away with the back of her wrist and drew a shaky breath.

  “Hey,” Scott said softly. His warm hands gripped her shoulders from behind. She let him turn her toward him. “Hey,” he repeated, almost a whisper now, drawing her against him.

  She pressed her face to his chest and balled the back of his shirt inside her fists. She wanted to scream, to lash out. Instead, she clung to Scott and worked on steadying her breaths.

  “Even after everything,” she managed, “the deceit … getting Creed killed … undermining the Program … I still care about her. I just … I can’t believe she’s a bad person.”

  “She was manipulated,” Scott said, “told God knows what.” Whether it was true or not, the conviction with which he declared it made Janis love him even more. “In some weird way, she might’ve become convinced she was helping us. You know, protecting us from ourselves.”

  A wet laugh escaped Janis’s nose. That sounded like Margaret. But the gravity of the situation fell back over her, and she squeezed her eyes closed. Margaret’s actions—no matter what her sister thought of them—would make the Soviet nuclear arsenal invisible to U.S. detection.

  “It hasn’t happened yet,” Scott said, picking up the thought.

  “Kilmer didn’t say so, but he’s worried our window to prevent it is small and shrinking.”

  “He’s in talks with the White House,” Scott said. “The president is weighing the options. Nothing’s off the table. And we don’t know Khoggi will move that money. Margaret was at our meetings. She understands the implications of the cloaking technology. If there’s a silver lining here, it could be her persuading Khoggi to withhold the funds.”

  A new reality filled Janis’s vision, and she found herself standing on the same shoreline of her earliest precognitive experiences. She was alone at the water’s edge, cold beach stretching to either side, wet sand pulling on the soles of her bare feet. Away over the water, the first explosions began. Great mushroom clouds rearing up like alien gods, blooming into an iron sky. And now the bombs were shuddering the land around her as well. Janis watched as radioactive walls of flame blasted toward her. This time, though, she didn’t fight it, even as she was consumed.

  She returned to Scott’s arms, fire lingering in her vision as she stared up at him.

  “One way or another, that money is going to be moved,” she said coldly. She walked to her bedroom window and turned. “Do you remember our talk a couple of weeks ago? When I told you my capacity was increasing to the point that it was starting to worry me?”

  “Yeah?” Scott said uncertainly.

  “The kinds of forces Dementyev is planning to unleash are so much … greater.” Several lines from Tyler’s haunting poem came to her:

  He with hungry, hydrogen mouth

  Toothless and voracious

  Inhaling the ash of innocents

  Exhaling gray ruin

  While with trembling hands and pale lips

  We pray for heroes who don’t exist—

  (But Tyler had changed the ending, hadn’t he? After their campaign in Missouri?)

  We pray for heroes who now exist

  And open our eyes to the forgotten truth

  That these Champions are in us, and we are all in them

  Her eyes moved to the top drawer of her dresser, where the poem was tucked away. “We can’t just sit here anymore,” she decided. “We can’t wait for the powers that be to decide our fates.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “A lot, actually, but let’s start with something we can manage.”

  “Such as…?”

  “Of our original members, one is dead, one defected, and one missing. We can’t do anything about the first, may or may not be able to alter the second, but we can damn sure do something about the third.”

  “Go after Jesse?” Scott asked.

  “There have been too many mistakes in the last weeks. Too much going it alone. We’ve become fractured. If we’re going to stop an attack, we need to become a team again.”

  “Agreed, but there’s still the problem of not knowing where Jesse is.”

  “I’m pretty sure Margaret knows,” Janis said, working things out as she spoke. “She may have been able to hide her thoughts from me, but memories linger in the objects we touch, especially if there’s a meaningful link.”

  Scott’s eyes lit up. “So, if she ever drove her car to the hideout…”

  “I might be able to pick up those spatial memories.”

  “While you’re working on that, I’ll talk with Kilmer and Steel. We’ll need to draw up an action plan and simulate—”

  She seized his arm. “No, Scott.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s a feeling I can’t quite explain, but there’s going to come a time, maybe soon, when we can’t look to them anymore. It’s going to be up to us, the Champions. We need to rely on ourselves. Starting now.”

  31

  The next night

  11:08 p.m.

  Scott crept to the edge of the thick woods above the quarry and peered down. Kilmer had been resistant to their insistence on going it alone, but their director had bigger problems. Mainly, convincing President Reagan to not end the Champions Program after the Arlington disaster. Scott had pointed out that a successful extraction of Jesse could change the president’s thinking. That had done the trick.

  Everyone in position? he asked through their psychic linkup. The rest of the team—Janis, Tyler, Erin, Shockwave, and Minion—all answered in the affirmative.

  The sentry out here looks pretty light, Janis remarked.

  Well, they couldn’t have known to bolster their numbers, Scott pointed out. Janis had blurred the team on their approach, while he had reprogrammed the surveillance equipment that ringed the Scale hideout. The Champions had come in silently, like th
e mist gathering in the gravelly bowl below. Through the night-vision feature of his visor, Scott picked out four gunmen.

  Is that all of them? he asked.

  All the ones outside, Janis answered. There’s sure to be more in the complex, but they’ve got some kind of electromagnetic field oscillating around it. I can’t feel past it.

  Scott nodded. And I can’t get into its electronics to shut it down, he said. But listen, let’s stick to our plan.

  I’m ready when you are, Tyler said.

  On my count, Scott replied. Three … two … one … go!

  Through his visor, Scott watched flaring pops ignite in the four gunmen’s helmets, deactivating their protective features. Before any of them could cry out, Janis felled them with psionic blasts.

  Scott flushed with pride. Phase one: perfecto.

  Converge, he ordered, emerging from the trees and stepping off the edge of the rock wall. It was an eighty foot drop, but after ten, a telekinetic force seized him and lowered him the rest of the way.

  Guess that closes the book on our trust issues, Janis said.

  We had trust issues?

  A telekinetic punch landed against Scott’s shoulder as gravel crunched beneath his soles. Janis landed nearby, along with Tyler and Erin, who had been positioned above the sides of the quarry. Shockwave and Minion approached from the switchback at a run, helmets amplifying their hard breaths.

  Let’s get that rear guard up, Scott said.

  Minion nodded and turned. Following a short incantation, a dozen mounds of dirt and gravel heaved up, assuming the form of brutish creatures. They fanned out in lumbering, rock-grinding steps, where they blended in with the sides of the quarry and stood guard.

  Good, Scott said. The opening to the complex is there. He nodded toward the steep wall. Once we’re in, quick, quiet strikes and forward motion. Always forward motion. We need to keep the advantage of surprise. And Shockwave … go easy. We don’t want to bring the quarry down on our heads.

  Roger that, Shockwave replied.

  Scott could feel the smirk in his voice, but decided not to say anything. Instead, he turned toward the wall with the others. Janis made a hand motion, and a circular door in the wall began to retract until Scott and the others were peering into a steel tunnel, illuminated at its far end.

  Let’s go, he said.

  He had barely set foot inside when gunfire exploded off the walls of the cylinder. The bullets ricocheted from Janis’s shield. An excitement of figures threw long shadows toward them.

  Keep moving, Scott ordered, releasing a blast from his visor. It caught the lead gunman, blowing him out of sight. He watched two more gunmen ram into one another, courtesy of Janis’s telekinesis, and collapse like dolls. A fourth was blown from his boots by a river of electric current.

  The firing ceased. Scott and his team broke from the cylinder into a large, pod-shaped room. A scattering of men, who appeared to have been caught off guard, were scrambling to don helmets and Kevlar vests and ready their arms. While Janis mind-blasted them into submission, Scott searched around, expecting to find Titan and the fire-starting mutant. They had been his biggest concerns. But all he could see were collapsing goons.

  Scott pointed out three more cylinders extending from the large room. Janis and Erin, take that one, Shockwave and Minion, that one straight ahead. Tyler and I will check out this one. Shout if you find Jesse or require backup.

  As Scott paired up with Tyler, he could hear the ringing footfalls of his teammates receding behind them. Their own cylinder, which extended to the right, soon opened onto a rectangular room with rows of bunks and footlockers. He and Tyler split up, peering above and below the beds.

  At the far end of the room, a door scraped open. Scott wheeled toward the sound. A scar-faced man in a plain T-shirt and boxers was shuffling from the bathroom, a toilet still flushing behind him. A magazine dangled from one hand. As he reached back to cut the bathroom light, he looked up. His bleary eyes shot wide. “Wh-wh-wh,” he stuttered, unable to find his voice.

  Scott and Tyler advanced on the man, electricity crackling around Tyler’s fists. Scott’s own visor was pulsing with red light. The man’s eyes shot from one to the other. I’m undressed, the eyes said, unarmed. The magazine flapped as he pushed his hands out in a defensive gesture.

  “Now, wh-wh-wait a minute.”

  “Where’s Titan?” Scott asked.

  “Who?”

  Scott released his pulse, and the magazine in the man’s hand exploded in a confetti shower. The man screamed and hopped away from the falling pages. His tube socks slid over the smooth metal floor, forcing the man into a spastic dance to keep his footing.

  “Where’s Titan?” Scott repeated.

  “I-I dunno. He left.” He jerked a sweep of greasy black hair from his brow, still looking from Scott’s laser, which had begun flashing again, to the electric orbs surrounding Tyler’s fists.

  “Where’d he go?” Scott asked.

  “The hell should I know!” the man cried. “They don’t tell me nothin’.”

  “What about the fire starter?”

  “You talking ’bout the lame brain?”

  Scott remembered what Janis had said about the woman in the van, how she had appeared mentally disabled. Was that the common factor among this group? he wondered.

  “Left, too,” the man said. “And don’t ask me where.”

  “Did Jesse go with them?” Tyler asked.

  “Hulk junior?” The man seemed to become bolder with each question, perhaps at how little his interrogators knew. “Dunno about him neither.” For no reason that Scott could see, the man issued a sniveling laugh.

  “Something funny?” Tyler asked.

  The man bit his lower lip with a pair of broken front teeth, but a knowing blade of humor remained in his eyes. A cold foreboding slid into Scott’s stomach. He linked up to Janis.

  Find anything? he asked.

  Just storage rooms on our end, she answered. You?

  We’ve got a man here, but there’s something he’s not telling us. You mind coming over and checking him out?

  Be right there.

  At that moment, Shockwave’s voice broke into the psychic linkup: I’ve found Jesse!

  Is he all right? Scott asked.

  Hard to tell. They’ve got him in a cage or something.

  All right, I’m coming. Scott turned to Tyler. “Stay with Grease Ball here. Janis is on her way.”

  “Hey, who you calling a grease ball?” the man cried as Scott took off at a run. A small zap sounded, and the man screamed again.

  In the main room, Scott passed Janis coming from the other direction. He gave her a thumbs-up and veered into the cylinder he’d sent Shockwave and Minion down. At a T-intersection, Scott stopped. “Where are you?” he called, his voice reverberating off the metal.

  “Down here,” Shockwave called back.

  Scott followed his voice to the right, soon breaking into a room that had been set up as a detention center. Beyond an unmanned guard station, floor-to-ceiling cages proceeded along the wall, extending away from Scott. All appeared empty, save for the final one, where Scott could make out a large human form. Shockwave and Minion were standing in front of the cell.

  “He’s breathing, but he has something around his head,” Minion said upon spotting Scott.

  “Probably a neural inhibitor,” he answered, striding toward them.

  Scott! came Janis’s urgent voice.

  What’s up?

  I’m in the man’s head, she said. They knew we’d come for Jesse. We got here earlier than expected, but they knew. They did an end around.

  An end around? Scott slowed to a stop.

  Titan and the other mutants. They’re on their way to Oakwood. It was a trap. Kilmer and Reginald … the agents … our families. We have to get back there. Now!

  “The cage door is locked,” Shockwave said, unaware of the exchange going on between Scott and Janis, “but it doesn’t look very sophi
sticated. A small disruptive wave should take care of it.”

  At the same time Shockwave’s words registered, a revelation ignited in Scott’s head. A high-pitched sound rang from metal, like a tuning fork. Scott raised his eyes to where his teammate was pointing a finger at the lock to Jesse’s cage.

  “No!” Scott shouted, sprinting toward him.

  The trap was bigger than a simple end around. As the cell door clunked open, a blinding light blew toward Scott. He was flung backwards, aware of more explosions detonating throughout the underground facility. The door had been rigged.

  Tyler reeled from the explosion that shook the barracks in a blinding flash and then cast it in darkness. A vibrating force enclosed him—and not a moment too soon. Metal groaned and gave way, shaking Janis’s shield. Tyler imagined tons of stone and sand breaking over them.

  Beside him, Janis grunted. Tyler reached through the darkness until he felt her lithe arm. She had enclosed herself in the same shield.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “It was a trap,” she said, through what sounded like gritted teeth. “The place was wired to explode as soon as we got to Jesse. Scott broadcast the thought before it happened. I’ve got everyone covered.”

  Can you guys hear me? she asked through the linkup.

  One by one, the voices of their teammates reported that they were buried but unharmed.

  Nearby, Tyler heard the cough of someone coming to. “What the hell is this?” Grease Ball murmured from the darkness. Janis had shielded him, too. Tyler caught himself marveling at her humanity.

  How are you holding up? Scott asked through the linkup.

  Honestly? Janis answered. Not well. I can keep the quarry off us, but I’ve tried, and … and I’m not sure I can move us.

  The admission sent a cold wave through Tyler. Not for himself, but for his teammates … Erin, his girlfriend for the last six months … Janis, for whom he still carried a pretty bright torch. He struggled for what he could do, but in the tight enclosure his electrical powers were more liability than asset.