by Tina Chan
He looked different since the last time Troop saw him—he had obviously gotten a haircut—but the guy behind Officer Zala was, without a doubt, Mason.
What in the world is going on? Troop thought.
Mason stopped a few paces behind Officer Zala.
“Fancy meeting you here, Chelsa,” Zala said. She braced her feet shoulder width apart and crossed her arms. Rosa and Mason copied her posture.
“I’ll prefer if you call me Dakota for now,” Chelsa replied.
“Chelsa, Dakota, whatever.” Officer Zala waved her hand diminishingly. “It seems to me you have only upheld part of our bargain. Where is the fourth Accident?”
“He refused to come,” Chelsa said.
“Very well. At least you have brought me two of the three. I will reward you once the last Accident is in my hands.” Zala turned to face Mason.
Troop debated whether they should make a break for it or not; he settled on a “no” since armed reinforcements had materialized all around them.
“Deputy Mason,” Zala said in a flat tone that somehow made those two words sound ominous.
Mason snapped to attention. “Yes, Officer.”
“I am disappointed in you.”
Rosa smirked behind Zala’s back and Mason shot her daggers. “Yes, Officer,” Mason said.
“You know what happens to people who disappoint me,” Zala continued on.
An expression of panic crossed Mason’s face for a second, but his face quickly became an emotionless mask. Rosa’s smirk widened a few inches.
Zala spoke again, “You informed me Troop and Kristi were killed two nights ago in the explosion at Solomon’s Sandwich Shop.”
“Yes, Officer. I believed the grade A bomb I placed in the shop killed them. It was foolish of me not to return to the site of the detonation to confirm their deaths,” Mason said.
“You placed the bomb in the sandwich shop?” Troop asked.
Mason looked nothing like the forty-something year old diner he saw at Solomon’s Sandwich.
“Yes.” Mason sounded smug. “I have been complimented on my extraordinary skills in the art of disguises. You didn’t recognize me on the air-train either.”
“Who are you?” Kristi burst in. “How do you know Troop?”
Mason didn’t try to hold back the scorn spreading across his face. “Don’t speak unless you’re asked to, Freak.”
Troop bristled at his words.
“That’s enough talk, Deputy,” Zala snapped. “You can flatter yourself later.”
Mason fell silent. Zala’s gaze fell upon Chelsa. “You were starting to worry me, Chelsa. After not receiving any updates from you for a long time, I began to fear you might’ve gotten distracted from your task.”
Kristi tensed up beside Troop in anticipation for Chelsa’s answer. Troop gave her right hand a squeeze of reassurance. Would Chelsa betray them once more?
“No, I haven’t gotten distracted from my task,” Chelsa said.
Troop’s stomach dropped a hundred feet. Is she seriously double-crossing us again?
“Good,” Zala replied.
But Chelsa wasn’t done speaking yet. “I’ve decided I never want to have anything to do with you again.” The enmity in her tone was acidic enough to dissolve diamonds. “You knew what was going on with the Accidents, with all of this.” She gestured to the room around them. “And you don’t seem to find anything wrong with it. I wouldn’t be surprised if you stabbed me in the back the second I gave you what you wanted. You—”
“Watch your tongue, young lady.” Officer Zala’s lip curled up whether in contempt or disgust, Troop couldn’t tell. “I offered to bring your boyfriend back from the dead, which is an offer you clearly don’t deserve having. You accepted my bargain; I never forced you into it. I gave you protection when you traveled. I made sure bandits didn’t bother you. I made sure you had enough points to get by on. I’ve wasted much of my time ensuring an Accident was as safe as possible within my power.”
“You’re a murderer,” Chelsa spat.
“Ooh, them is fighting words,” Rosa whistled.
“Shut up,” Zala snarled.
Rosa and Mason both took a few steps back and lowered their heads in submission.
Zala bared her teeth in anger. “You’re treading on dangerous grounds, Chelsa. If I were you, I wouldn’t be so rude to my superior.”
“All those deaths just to make people feel secure about themselves,” Chelsa said. “You know what? The government’s brainwashing people into thinking they are the best, the greatest, the most flawless if they have perfected DNA. Well, guess what, they’re wrong. There’s nothing wrong with the non-Perfects. Do you want to know what’s the greatest weakness in all you so-called ‘Perfects’?” Chelsa didn’t wait for a reply and kept on rolling on, either oblivious or ignoring the guns being aimed at them. “You guys are afraid of being imperfect. But let’s face it: none of you are perfect. And yes, Zala, I mean you too. You’re. Not. Perfect.”
Silence.
Then Officer Zala slowly broke into an exaggerated applause. “Thank you for your speech,” she said, sarcasm dripping like honey. “Just what we needed; an Accident giving advice to a Perfect. Obviously you didn’t inherit much intelligence from your parents.”
“Don’t insult Chelsa,” Kristi said.
A hand slapped across her cheek. Kristi clasped her hands over her skin, smothering a gasp of pain.
“Don’t touch her!” Troop snapped.
“I don’t think you’re in the position to be making demands,” Mason said.
“You vile scumbag. I can’t believe we used—”
“Shut your mouth.” Mason dared Troop to go against his orders.
But Troop wasn’t stupid; he knew he was no match against armed guards.
Officer Zala directed a curt nod towards Rosa and said, “Round them up. Keep them in the underground cells. I want a full interrogation done with each of the Accidents. I am sure they know some useful information about the Revealers.”
“Yes, Officer.” Rosa dipped her head in acknowledgement.
Zala started for the exit of the South Wing. Before she left, she turned to address the shocked scientists. Troop supposed it wasn’t every day a break-in happens at one of the most guarded labs in the country.
When Zala spoke, her words rang out with authority. “What you see today in this room stays in this room. Do I make that very clear? Good.”
“Finn,” Troop mumbled, “some help would be great.”
“Keep your hands raised above your head and do not move,” a male soldier commanded. “Any effort to resist arrest will not be taken lightly.”
They obeyed his instructions. Two of the guards lined them up in single file with soldiers on either side. Kristi let out a loud sneeze, surprising at least three of the guards around them. The guard to her right glared at Kristi while dealing another stinging slap.
“She didn’t do anything,” Troop said to the guard.
The guard held up a small dart near Troop’s face and breathed in his face, “Cause one more disturbance and you will find a tranquilizer in you or your girlfriend.”
“You guys alright?” asked Chelsa from the front of the line.
The guard gave Troop a look daring him to answer Chelsa, languidly tossing the tranquilizer from one hand to the other. Troop kept quiet.
They approached the entrance and began leave the South Wing when a loud rumble vibrated across the floor. Everyone stopped walking.
“Keep on moving,” Rosa ordered.
They resumed walking. Another rumble vibrated through the air, followed by a sharp bark. Then a howl sliced through the space and the sound of sharp nails clicking against the marble floor could be heard loud and clear.
“You don’t think it’s the devil-dogs, do you?” a nervous sounding scientist called out.
Deputy Rosa smiled a tight smile. “Of course not. The devil-dogs are kept in the lab’s ba
sement in a triple locked cage in a triple locked room. There’s no way they can escape or—” Deputy Rosa never got to finish her sentence because a very large and very present devil-dog pounced onto her chest, knocking her onto the hard floor.
Troop cringed at the sound of Rosa’s spine snapping when she slammed into the ground. The devil-dog crouched over Rosa, its poisonous saliva dripping over her. Her flesh melted off her skull in random patches. Troop turned his eyes away from the gruesome sight.
A devil-dog let out another howl and was answered with an assortment of howls, barks and snarls. Judging by the sound, there were at least thirty other devil-dogs that were not in a triple locked cage in a triple locked room.
Understandably, the South Wing broke into chaos.
chapter forty-four
[ Kristi ]
