by T E Stouyer
Marie closed her eyes as she tried to collect herself. But she was quickly jolted out of her contemplation by the sound of a harsh clap.
“Hey, Lady! We don’t have all day here,” Rock complained.
Marie glanced at the old man. Professor Karpov had told her that Jerome Fournier was his best friend. So maybe she could trust him, even though he seemed hell-bent on sending her away. In fact, it was his reluctance to talk to her which convinced Marie she could trust him. He reminded her of Professor Karpov, and of how he had always refused to tell her anything about his past because he wanted to protect her. Clearly, that was also Professor Fournier’s intention. He was trying to keep her away from danger because he knew that’s what his friend would have wanted.
“Sorry,” she said. “Yes, I would like to go with you.”
“It’s settled, then,” Doc declared.
Lucielle walked over to Rock and tugged on his sleeve.
“What do you want, kid?”
She pointed at Soran, who was still peacefully sleeping on the ground next to them, and asked, “Would you mind carrying him to the van?”
The giant froze for a long time as he tried to decide whether the girl was being serious or not. He glanced at Soran, and then back at her. “Are you kidding me? Is she kidding me?” He asked again, this time turning to Ashrem and the professor.
The two men stared back at him but said nothing.
When Rock realized their silence was meant as a tacit approval of the young girl’s suggestion, he snapped. “Are you all freaking nuts?”
True to his nickname, Sonar had heard the entire exchange from the shed. He hurried over to the group and said, “Whoa! You guys aren’t serious, are you?”
“We can’t leave him here,” Ashrem said.
“Oh, yes we can,” Rock replied.
“Why in the world would we do that?” Lucielle asked in an angered voice.
“Hmm … let me think,” said the giant as he placed his finger over his mouth as though he was pondering his answer. “How about because he just went all postal on us?” he barked at the young girl.
“We told you to wait upstairs,” Lucielle retorted. “In any case, it’s OK. He’s fine, now.”
“Is he? Well, if you say so … I guess that clears everything up, doesn’t it?” Rock said in an overly sarcastic tone.
“No, she’s right,” said Fournier. “I’m quite certain the … episode is over.”
“Episode?” Sonar echoed. “Really? Is that what we’re calling this?”
“What if he’s still lying here when Andrew’s men return?” Lucielle challenged.
“Hey, clearly your brother is far scarier than Carson and his goons,” the giant countered.
“That wasn’t Soran. That was Myrvan,” Lucielle said, her tone growing more impatient.
Doc turned to her, intrigued. “You said the same thing earlier. What does it mean?”
Fournier sighed. There was no time to get into details, but he realized he would have to give the mercenaries something if they were going to agree to bring the young man along with them. “Soran suffers from a kind of dissociative identity disorder,” he said. “Or MPD, if you prefer.”
“Multiple personality disorder?” Doc checked.
“Correct,” said Fournier. “Soran’s the one you’ve been interacting with this entire time. And now, you’ve met his alter ego: Myrvan.”
Rock threw his arms up in the air. “Give me a break, man. Alter ego? What is he? A villain?”
“In that case, can you honestly tell us you know which one he’ll be when he wakes up?” Doc asked the old man.
“Yes,” Fournier replied without hesitation. “But it would take time to explain. More time than we currently have.”
“And where do you suggest we take him?” Sonar asked.
“There’s a place in Paris,” said the old man.
Doc thought about it for a while, and then finally said, “Very well. We’ll call Nate from the road and tell him to meet us there.” He then looked at Soran. “We’ll take him with us. I’ll patch up his wound. Rock, try to find something to tie him up with. And make sure it’s strong enough to hold him.”
“Fine,” the giant replied, visibly not happy about the decision.
“Don’t worry,” said Lucielle. “He probably won’t wake up for a while.”
Rock grunted as he headed to the shed. He had spotted a chain and a heavy rope earlier, when they had looked inside.
“Where’s your car?” Doc asked Marie.
She stared at him briefly before she answered. “Fifty meters or so down the road.”
“OK. I’ll ride with you when we’re ready to leave.”
Marie gave a surprised look. “You want to come with me?”
“Sure,” Doc replied. “Why cram everyone inside the van when there’s room inside your car? Besides, that way you’ll have someone to keep you company.”
Marie knew the real reason for Doc’s decision was that he didn’t trust her. He didn’t want to leave her alone to follow them in her car. Instead, he had decided to keep an eye on her. But she understood. It was a reasonable precaution to take, considering they had just met. “Of course,” she said.
A short time later, the professor’s van rolled out of his property and turned onto the small road passing in front of it. Professor Fournier was driving, with the redhead mercenary riding in front with him. Rock, Ashrem, and Lucielle were seated at the back, along with Soran, whose hands and feet had been tightly wrapped in rope and chains.
Following close behind the van, Marie and Doc Chen rode in the detective’s car.
The group had only travelled about a hundred feet when they spotted two figures on the side of the road.
The vehicles stopped.
The bodies of two of Carson’s men were lying on the side of the road.
“I guess that explains what he was doing outside,” said Doc.
Marie turned to him, perplexed. “Your friend did this?”
Doc nodded.
The detective gazed back at the bodies and said, “But if they’re here, doesn’t that mean …”
“Yeah, they were trying to run away,” said Doc.
“And he chased them all the way here? … to kill them?”
Marie felt a shiver run up her spine. She had seen the horrifying scene inside the living room. But finding those two corpses here was almost as disturbing.
Like the mercenaries, the detective had had a hard time believing that Soran could have decimated Carson’s entire squad all by himself, and in such a short period of time. Normally, she would have discarded the idea as being impossible. But the word impossible had surfaced far too often in the past twenty-four hours.
She knew Soran had done it. She just didn’t understand how.
Upon witnessing the carnage inside the living room, Marie had told herself that such savage brutality could only have been the result of a strong instinct for survival. Soran had been so afraid for his life that he had turned excessively violent and aggressive.
That was her theory.
That theory, however, could not account for the two bodies in front of her now. The fact that Soran had chased those men so far outside the property, like a predator refusing to let his prey escape. That fact left her with only one possible conclusion. It was the same conclusion she had reached in regards to Professor Karpov’s self-professed murderer.
They were both monsters.
Without realizing it, she had entered a world bound by different rules, woven with different threads. A world of incredibly smart and wise men, like Professor Karpov. A world of giants, and of mysterious children. But also, a world of monsters.
Chapter 13 – Refuge
It was a little after 11 p.m. when Professor Fournier drove his white van past the metallic gates of a quiet residential building near the Porte d’ Auteuil in Paris. He proceeded down the ramp and stopped in front of the garage door. Once the gates closed behind him, the garage do
or crawled up along the ceiling with a heavy rumble, and opened into an underground parking lot.
The professor drove his van inside and parked into one of the slots on the lower levels.
“We’re here,” he said as he turned off the engine.
“Good,” said Sonar. “I don’t know why, but the drive to Paris felt even longer this time.”
His comment was met with complete silence.
It hadn’t been a particularly long trip, but it had been a noticeably quiet one. The events at the professor’s house had left the group in a sombre mood. And with the exception of Lucielle and the old man, everyone had suffered one or more injuries—some minor, but others more severe.
“We should hurry,” said Fournier as he opened the driver-side door. “I’d rather we didn’t come across any of the other residents. There’s rarely anyone going in or out of the building at this hour, but you never know.”
Sonar nodded. He grabbed his gear and exited from the front passenger side.
Ashrem opened the rear doors and stepped out, followed by Lucielle and Rock. The giant then turned around and leaned inside the vehicle. He dragged Soran by the feet and flung him over his right shoulder. The young man was still sound asleep.
“Can you get my gear?” Rock said to Ashrem as he nodded towards his black sports bag.
“Sure,” Ashrem replied. He leaned inside and grabbed the bag by its straps. But as soon as he started pulling it, he let go and grunted in pain—he was in an even worse shape since the fight with his brother.
“Never mind,” said Rock. “I’ll take it.” He stretched out his left arm and retrieved the bag while keeping Soran balanced on his right shoulder.
Lucielle then slammed the rear doors shut.
Fournier led the group to a small door, which opened into a dimly lit corridor stretching about forty feet to the main elevator. And immediately to their right was a service elevator and the staircase door.
“Let’s use the service elevator,” Fournier suggested. “We’ll have less chance of running into someone.”
“How many people live here?” Rock asked.
“This is the main building,” the old man explained. “There are only two apartments per floor, so not that many people. The building across the courtyard has a lot more occupants, though there typically wouldn’t be any reason for them to use the elevators on this side at this time of night.”
The group rode the service elevator to the seventh floor and exited onto a staircase landing with two doors opposite each other.
Fournier took out a four-sided key and opened the door on the left.
They entered into a large fully-fitted kitchen with dark green tiles, big windows, and a rectangular wooden table. They proceeded beyond the kitchen and into a large reception area. Behind them was the main entrance door, and in front, at the end of the reception hall, were two smaller doors. Fournier told them that each one led to a different corridor with a separate set of bedrooms and bathrooms.
The double door to their right opened onto a spacious living room connected to a dining room.
The décor inside the living room was European classic: a marble fireplace, polished wooden flooring, candle-shaped lightbulbs, and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The living room was fitted with a large flat-screen TV, a coffee table, and two sofas—a three-seater and a two-seater—with light-green upholstery embroidered with dark green motifs matching the curtains.
The side of the living room facing the streets consisted of floor-to-ceiling windows with security roller blinds. And the windows granted access to a balcony overlooking a small park across the road.
“Hey Pops, how big is this place?” Sonar asked.
Fournier scratched his head. “I’m not sure. It’s quite big, though.”
Having spent so much of her young life hidden away in one isolated house or another, Lucielle always relished the opportunity to explore new surroundings. She scurried across the entrance hall like a little mouse and disappeared behind the right-hand side hallway door.
“Where’s she going?” Rock asked after the young girl had whizzed out of sight.
The professor smiled. “Don’t mind her, she—”
He was interrupted by a soft double knock.
They all paused as the old man walked to the entrance door and peered through the peephole.
“It’s them,” said Fournier. He opened the door and let Doc and Marie in. “I trust you didn’t have too much trouble finding a parking spot?” he asked them.
“No,” Marie replied. “We found one a block down the road.”
Doc Chen dropped his bag on the floor, next to the coat holder, and then turned to his comrades. “Did you clear the apartment?”
“No, not yet,” Sonar replied.
Lucielle suddenly came out of the hallway and ran back to the group, literally stopping right under Fournier’s nose. “What is this place, Professor?”
“Well, technically speaking, it belongs to you,” he said. “To you and your siblings.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“This was one of Adam’s hideouts after he had escaped from the Arc. I imagine the reason he chose such a big place was that he meant for his children to use it someday. Possibly as a temporary refuge, like he had done.”
“A hideout? In the middle of the city?” Sonar exclaimed.
“You must remember,” said Fournier. “Due to the sensitive nature of our project, Leicester and his associates couldn’t involve the police in their search for us. They couldn’t exactly start an international manhunt. They had to rely on their own people, and remain very discreet about it. Besides, I’m sure they had fully expected us to have booked tickets to some far-off destination the minute we went missing. A big city is the last place they would have looked. I chose an isolated area because I actually like the countryside, and I enjoy taking long walks on the beach. But Alek hid in Berlin for years without anyone finding out.”
“That didn’t work out too well for him in the end, though,” Rock pointed out.
Fournier didn’t respond. But both he and Lucielle mechanically shot uneasy glances at Marie.
“In any case,” the old man said, eager to change the subject. “I guess we need to wait for Arianne and Mr. Kincade to arrive before doing anything else. In the meantime, please make yourselves at home.”
“Where should I put sleeping beauty, here?” Rock said as he padded Soran on the back.
“Shouldn’t he have woken up by now?” Doc asked.
“Normally, yes,” Fournier replied. “But, typically when Myrvan emerges, he stays for hours, or even days. The change between the two personalities is never without … complications. His mind needs time to adjust to it. However, in this case, due to Lucielle’s intervention, Myrvan’s appearance was very brief. It only lasted a few minutes. That quick back-and-forth probably put a big strain on his psyche. And on top of that, his actions must have also taken quite a toll on his body as well.” Fournier paused and gazed at Soran with tender eyes. “I’m sure he’ll be up soon. Let’s put him in one of the bedrooms. Please, follow me,” he told Rock as he headed towards the back of the apartment.
“I think you can untie him now,” said Lucielle as the two men walked away.
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” Rock said, without looking back.
Doc and Sonar also left the living room to perform a thorough sweep of the apartment and to find an area to settle in, leaving Lucielle alone with the detective.
The young girl dug into her purple-striped bag and fished out her doll and a mini hairbrush. Then, she went to take a seat on the large sofa and began brushing the doll’s long dark hair.
Marie watched her for a moment.
Lucielle took great care in handling her doll. Each stroke of her brush was soft and deliberate, as though she was holding a real baby. And all the while, she was humming. She looked like she didn’t have a care in the world.
Marie sat next to the youngst
er and asked, “What’s her name?”
Lucielle gave the blond woman a strange look and said, “She doesn’t have a name. She’s just a doll.”
The detective was thrown a little off-balance by Lucielle’s detached response. It wasn’t at all what she had expected. Such a curious child, she thought.
Once again, Marie found herself wondering how this adolescent girl had ended up with this strange group. But even though she was truly curious about Lucielle and about her place in all of this, the questions that burned brightest inside the detective’s mind extended far beyond the child’s involvement. She still had no idea what was going on. She had attempted to get some answers from Doc Chen during their long drive to Paris, but he had turned out to be a frustratingly tight-lipped traveling companion.
“Do you mind if I ask you some questions?” the detective asked.
“No, go ahead,” Lucielle replied as she resumed her meticulous activity.
“I heard one of them say that you were eleven years old. Is that right?”
“Eleven and a half,” the girl said, almost sounding like she was boasting about the number.
“Where are your parents?”
“I had a father. Adam. But he’s dead now,” the young girl said in a stoic tone.
Although she recalled Professor Karpov mentioning that name, Marie cringed in embarrassment for bringing up the subject. “I’m so sorry,” she said.
“It’s OK,” Lucielle told her. “It happened a few years ago.”
“And your mother?”
“I don’t have a mother,” the girl nonchalantly replied.
Marie bit her lower lip. She felt stupid and insensitive for putting her foot in her mouth like that again. “I’m really, truly sorry,” she apologized.
Lucielle gazed up at the blond woman. Realizing the detective had misunderstood her statement, the young girl shook her head and said, “It’s not what you think. I meant I never had a mother.”
