Sloth

by Lana Pecherczyk

  The closer Sloan got to the guards, the more their heads drooped until both slumped to the ground.

  His heart leaped into his throat. She did it. Whatever it was.

  Max trotted over, gun still held at the ready, checking his six. “What did you do?”

  She turned toward him with humor in her eyes. “If there’s one feeling I know well, it’s sleep.”

  “What now?”

  “Now we find Barry and the reason his sloth is off the charts.”

  Thirteen

  Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Barry Pinkerton continued down the elevator in the underground. In his opinion, it was unconscionable to get up so early in the morning, but when the lady of the house called, he answered. He had to. It wasn’t only his life on the line if he failed to respond.

  The terrible clunking metal grate elevator zoomed down levels, giving him a brief glance at each floor. So brief, that if he blinked, he’d have missed it. Weapons, biological experiments, soldiers, tanks. The lower he went, the louder the sound of feral animals. Growls, snarls, barks. It all grew to cacophony proportions until the elevator jerked to a halt. Usually this was the point he put earplugs in, but this time he couldn’t. She waited for him. He yanked the grate door open and stepped out into the cold concrete hallway with nothing but flickering lights as his companions until he reached the lab shared with a botany geneticist.

  When he entered, he found Despair staring at a wall of cages. Not the wall he expected. On one side of his overflowing lab, warped animals ran circles, chasing their tales in their small homes. On the other side, the cages held a range of flora. Relentless tendrils and leaves of all shapes and sizes spilled from any gap they could find, trying in vain to reach the heat of the hydroponic lights outside. If he didn’t know any better, he’d feel calmed by the green beauty.

  Dressed in a simple white tailored suit, Despair had her hands behind her back as she watched the plants with an impassive expression.

  What’s going on in her mind?

  To find an answer, he studied her as she studied the plants. He couldn’t see her face, but from the drop of her shoulders, and the tilt of her head, he believed she was intrigued with the plants. She almost appeared relaxed. Calm. Even happy.

  But what did he know? The woman confounded him. And after he’d met her sister, who in all efforts appeared to be not only managing her sin, but thriving, he was even more confused. Maybe, deep down inside, she was redeemable. Maybe she could help him stop all this nonsense.

  Movement near the plants snapped his attention there. A tendril unfurled its vine, coming for her. She reached out to meet it, finger to tendril. Horror formed in his mind as he watched the event unfold. She should know better.

  Heart leaping into his throat, he searched for a weapon. Anything. On the lab table that separated the two sides, instruments, tools and equipment were scattered everywhere. Scalpel? Knife? Hammer?

  He darted across the room, collecting a blowtorch as he ran. He aimed it at the plant, ready to release the fire, but as he approached, as the vine wrapped its deadly arm around her finger, Despair was on him in an instant. Her free hand snapped around his wrist, angling until he cried out and dropped the blowtorch.

  “It’s poisoned!” he shouted. “It will kill you.”

  Despair’s violet eyes flicked down to her wrapped finger. “No, Mr. Pinkerton. It won’t kill me, but you would have killed it, an innocent creature that had no say in its creation.”

  When she unwrapped the green length from her finger, a red puckered shadow remained. Sickness churned in Barry’s gut. If she fell ill…

  “You’ll get sick,” he said. “Is that what you want?”

  “I want for nothing.”

  “I don’t believe it. You shouldn’t be without hope. Without—” he bit his words off before he betrayed his true desires.

  Staring vacantly at the plant, now easing its vine back into the safety of the cage, Despair murmured: “My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.”

  He gulped. Did she want to die? Did she feel anything at all? But then something about her unsettling words plucked at his memory. He’d heard them before. In a movie, a book… then it hit him. Anne of Green Gables. His daughter had an obsession with the red headed heroine, and she had forced him to watch and read the series many times over. If Despair knew that line, then she too had read the books. Perhaps hope wasn’t lost on her. He opened his mouth to plead, but she turned to him, hardness once again in her eyes.

  “Where do you think I learned that quote, Mr. Pinkerton?”

  “From the books.”

  “No. From your daughter’s books.”

  Coldness grew from the pit in his stomach and they stared at each other while her intention soaked in.

  “You bitch.”

  “I don’t care what you call me.”

  “You care about nothing at all.”

  One of her shoulders lifted in a shrug.

  “You could have been different,” Barry snapped. “You could have been very different.”

  “But I’m not. And you have a job to do.” She hurried to the animal cages. “After the success of our experiment, we have received the all clear to pervade the city. Julius wants you to double production. He wants that city to be the first to fall.”

  He frowned. Success? That animal had torn through the streets of Cardinal City with no purpose. To Barry, he couldn’t make sense of the targeting. The animal was meant to be attracted to the sin of greed, but it had gone wild in the end.

  “You hesitate.”

  He shook his head. Releasing so many into the city—no one would be safe. He didn’t want to do it, but he knew not how to stop it. Not without putting his daughter’s life in jeopardy.

  “You have your instructions.” Despair straightened and headed for the exit. “I expect you to comply.”

  “Don’t you have a heart?” he asked.

  “My heart died in a burning building over two decades ago.” Then she left, lab door closing on soft hinges as her footsteps faded down the hall.

  Fourteen

  “Help me drag them out of the way.” Sloan slipped her hands under the arms of a sleeping guard.

  Half expecting Max to argue, it surprised her when he crouched low and asked, “Are you sure about this?”

  When she gave a short, serious nod, he returned with his own. “Then I think we need to remove their uniforms and use them. Put them over our own. Take the balaclavas off and try to blend in. Looks like this base goes underground. Who knows how long we’ll be down there.”

  “Good idea.” She tugged her guard around the side of the building, stopping in a pitch black shadow and began removing his shirt.

  Max did the same, and soon, both had put the military uniform over their existing clothes. They removed their balaclavas, hid their Deadly jacket hoods under their new jackets and donned the army hats. She tucked her hair underneath. They were roasting, but it was temporary. Sloan had to leave her crossbow and quiver hidden, but retrieved a rifle and slung it over her shoulder.

  If you looked closely, you’d see the lumpy undergarments, but Sloan wasn’t willing to risk this extra mission without her bulletproof armor.

  With Max at her back, Sloan traveled through the base door, stopping just inside. She closed her eyes and focused on the sin. Her stomach rolled, and when she concentrated, she noticed multiple points triggered the feeling. Sloth blinked into existence beneath her, a hundred fold. She almost lost her breath and ran back to safety, all the way back to her apartment.

  “What is it?” Max whispered.

  “There are a lot of signatures beneath us.”

  “And Barry?”

  Sloan frowned. Like a beacon, his deadly sin tugged at her, pulling her from the core. An instinctual reaction sparked with purpose. End the sin. Destroy the sinner. But Mary had spent her life ensuring the Lazarus children didn’t react instinctually, that they assessed the danger, and approached the sin with a level
head.

  She didn’t have to destroy the person to destroy the sin. She could help him.

  “He’s down a few levels.”

  Max shifted, ready to move, but she stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. “There are many sinners down there, but I can only sense sloth.”

  “Meaning… there could be more?”

  She nodded. “If Pride and Gluttony were here, we’d have a good understanding of what we’re up against, but…” They would never let her move ahead with her plan.

  Conflicted thoughts traveled behind Max’s eyes. “We should alert Pride. I’m not saying change your plans, just be thorough. Tell him.”

  Taking a deep breath, Sloan gave a quick update of her position through her internal communication system. A few curse words came back, but Max was right, it was important to let Parker know what she intended. If shit went sideways, he could get out with Tony.

  Finding an elevator with a metal grate door, they traveled deeper underground, passing floors with little time to investigate, catching glimpses of wide open spaces, weapons, aircraft, and more. Nerves tickled her neck. This operation was massive. It was breaking protocol to get to Barry, but a strong sense of duty had settled within. She had to do this.

  She could do this.

  Get Barry out without alerting the Syndicate. Save him from committing whatever sin he was about to. Wasn’t that her reason for living?

  They followed the sense of Barry’s sloth until she exited at a dark level with dull flickering halogen lights above. Animal sounds came from further down and she knew they’d found the right place.

  “He’s down there.” She pointed at the shadowed hallway.

  “Let’s go.” Max adjusted his rifle, tugged his hat down to shield his eyes and with brisk efficiency, they continued.

  As they got within a few feet of the noisiest door, it opened. A glimpse of white hair was all Sloan needed to duck her head, hiding her face. Despair, or Daisy as they’d renamed her. Sloan’s sister. Heart leaping into her throat, Sloan froze.

  “Act like you’re on patrol,” Max hissed, urging her onward. “Head down.”

  They adjusted their pace and kept walking.

  Half expecting to be stopped, Sloan exhaled when Daisy walked by and disappeared into the elevator behind them. The moment the elevator left, Sloan lifted her cap and caught Max’s eyes.

  “Maybe we should back out now while we can,” she said.

  Brown eyes bored into her. “You still sense the deadly sin?”

  She nodded, nerves tightening her throat.

  “And we’re talking deadly. Like massive scale.”

  Once again, she nodded. Something was coming. Dark, ominous and crouching, waiting to pounce. It was all tied to Barry.

  Max’s jaw clenched. “Then we follow through. We do what you came here to do. Be thorough. Believe in your instincts, Sloan. You will save lives.”

  Warmth encircled her chest and spread outward. Sloan looked at her mate, a sense of elation lifting her spirits. He had her back. After everything that had passed between them, in this moment, a moment that counted, he was on her side. He had faith in her in a way she’d never returned.

  Keeping his alert gaze around the corridor, he didn’t notice how she watched him. He had no clue about the intense emotion building inside her, bursting to get out. She couldn’t put words to it. She only knew she was grateful, and so much more. It was too much for her to contain and slipped out of its box to reach for him, tendrils eager and full of longing.

  Shocked brown eyes snapped back to hers. Heat flared. They held each other’s gaze until she reined in her emotion and locked it up tight. Shoving all that need and want back in its box, she turned to the door Daisy had come out of. In there was Barry, and so much more.

  “Let’s do this.” Shifting her rifle to one side, she opened the door.

  Having Parker snap in her ear comms—telling her to hurry, didn’t help.

  I know he’s down here. I know I can help.

  Entering the loud room, Sloan’s senses were overwhelmed, but Max entered behind her, all swift and brutal action. Animal sounds. Screeches. Roars. Barks. Growls. And the smell. A wave of nausea rolled over her from the blend of manure, hay, and urine. She gagged.

  On one side of the poorly ventilated lab, animal cages lined the wall. But on the other side, reaching across the lab table filled with scattered instruments and documents, a wall of plants stretched the length of the forty foot long room. And the odd thing was, those plants were in cages too.

  Max continued along the edge of the lab table, half in a crouch, gun trained and sighted. The pull of sloth tugged to the right, and lifting her own rifle, careful not to breathe too deeply, Sloan edged forward.

  All these poor animals.

  None of them resembled what they were born as, if they were born at all. For all Sloan knew, they could have been created in a Petri dish and grown in a tank, just like the human replicate clones had been. A monkey-like beast with bulging eyes and fangs reached for her through a gap in the cage. Darting to the left, she narrowly escaped its claws. With her new skill, she sensed an insatiable need to attack, to survive.

  “He’s down there,” she murmured, indicating to the end of the room where bags of food, hay, and other animals supplies were stacked against the concrete wall.

  As she drew closer to the crouching form of Barry, dread deepened until it filled her chest with weight. He was busy with an animal and hadn’t noticed them over the din. The animal was laying down, as though sedated.

  Once sure they were alone, Sloan lowered her gun. She lifted her cap so her face was visible, and when Barry raised his head, he did a double take.

  “What are you doing here?” he hissed, hand frozen on an open cage, the other mid air, paused with a syringe in his grip. “If they catch you, you’re dead.”

  “I won’t let you do it.” Let him think she knew what his deadly plan was. Sometimes, bluffing was the only way to proceed.

  He exhaled, slamming his cage shut. “There’s nothing I can do to stop them.”

  Barry got up and straightened his white lab coat. His eyes went cold and he avoided Sloan’s gaze as he strode beyond her, back to the table at the center of the room.

  “Don’t ignore this, Barry.” Sloan strode after him. “Do you really want to be responsible for the death of so many innocents?”

  He shook his head. “No. Only the sinners will go.”

  “You don’t believe that,” she said. “Otherwise I wouldn’t feel deadly sin within you, Barry.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you do. It’s that niggling feeling you’ve been having. The one that’s getting louder and louder, the closer you get to the end of your project. The one that’s telling you to do the right thing. The one you keep ignoring.”

  Barry gathered a stack of papers and straightened them. His jaw clenched. He considered Sloan’s words. Perhaps she could push him, nudge him with another emotion… but she knew not which. Fear might push him in the opposite direction. Trust… maybe, but she was still untrained with that. And she might open the wrong box. She needed more training.

  “What’s the plan, Barry?” Max asked, lifting his rifle back up.

  Barry lifted his gaze. “It doesn’t matter if you kill me. They’ll go ahead with it. They don’t need me.”

  “So why stay?”

  “They have my daughter.”

  None of them spoke. Only the screeching, angry sounds of beasts clambered around them.

  “Your daughter,” Sloan repeated. “Where?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Heck, yeah it matters. Barry, I want to help you. Let us help you.”

  “She’s in town. At boarding school.”

  The town was on the other side of the mountain.

  “We’ll get to her before they know,” she promised. “Come with us Barry. We can get you out without them knowing. There will be enough time to
save her. We can set you both up with another identity.”

  Barry didn’t answer.

  Max shifted next to her. “They don’t know we’re here. Tell us the plan. At the very least, we can be prepared.”

  “The animals.” Barry waved at the cages, avoiding their gazes. “They will be let loose in confined public spaces.”

  “Do you know which spaces?”

  Barry shook his head. “Cardinal City. I don’t know more. I’m sorry.”

  Sloan caught Max’s hard stare. “We have to stop them here.”

  “Do that and your cover is blown. They’ll know you’ve been here.”

  She bit her lip. “We have to do something.”

  “Let the animals loose,” Barry offered. “Open the cages and the doors. Let them loose on the base and with no way of controlling them, the soldiers will have to put them down.”

  “It would create a distraction for us to get out unnoticed with Barry,” Max noted.

  “And it will buy us time to collect Barry’s daughter. Good enough for me.” Sloan activated her mic and spoke to her brother: “Pride. We’re coming out with Pinkerton. Be ready in five.”

  When she met Barry’s jittery gaze, she already noted his sin lessening. She smiled. “It’s going to be fine, Barry. Stick with us.”

  Fifteen

  With lungs heaving and thighs pumping, Max ran through the underground base, refusing to look back. Minutes ago, they’d left the animal cages open. The distraction would only work if the animals breeched the lab. Hopefully, the outbreak would be contained to that level, attracting confusion and commotion, leaving them the freedom to escape with Barry unnoticed.

  It wasn’t until they reached the ground level that shit went sideways.

  The guards Sloan had put to sleep were awake and standing before the exit door outside, barking orders into walkie-talkies. One of them held Sloan’s crossbow and was attempting to draw back the rope to nock by hand. The action was difficult for any man without a rope-cocking device, and probably why Sloan liked using the weapon—she could do it effortlessly. Both guards, dressed in only their undergarments, turned their way. Expressions turned staunch, eyes widened in betrayal and then narrowed with intent. It all took a split second to comprehend, but long enough for Max to register the threat, lift his rifle, point and shoot.