Arise (Book Three in The Arson Saga) (23 page)

Her voice fought for the freedom her body couldn’t grasp. She struggled, but all that came out was a muffled cry. Why did all these people want to hurt her? Weren’t there any good souls left in this godless world?

Ruth was a good soul, and you let her die. You hesitated. You took too long. You. Let. Her. Die!

She bit him, and he cursed, but his grip didn’t budge. At least, not at first. It took a red beam of light to pierce his throat before the giant was slain. Emery knew it was Adam because she’d seen the red escape the wrinkled flesh and burn a small hole into the brick wall in front of her. The old man’s corpse slumped to the side unimpressively. She was thankful his stature had towered over her by a foot; otherwise Adam might have wounded her during his rescue.

When she turned around and saw him standing there, she was instantly taken back to that first time she’d seen him, cloaked by the needy shadows of the asylum, fewer than forty-eight hours earlier. For a second, he was Arson, then and now. But the second wasn’t long enough.

“What if you’d aimed a little lower?”

“But I didn’t,” was all he said.

“You could’ve killed me,” she said, picking up the clothes and hoping they hadn’t dampened too much.

“But I didn’t.” He still didn’t look right. Something was off, very off.

“What happened to you?”

“I blacked out, and
you
left me here.”

She threw him the pile. “I went to find us clothes. We were gonna freeze.”

“Yeah, well, next time a note would be nice.”

“I thought you’d still be unconscious when I got back. It’s not like I have a freakin’ manual on how your body works…or doesn’t work.”

“Whatever.” He stripped and quickly threw on the new clothes. There was slush on the pant legs, but he wasn’t bothered by it the way she would’ve been. The only thing racing through her mind at this very instant was the burn on her wrist.

She glanced down at the tiny bubbling circle before kicking the belly of the beast who’d branded her.

“Let me see,” Adam said, slipping into a sweatshirt. “How bad is it?”

Emery pulled away. “I’ll live.”

“What, are you mad at me for saving your life?”

“No,” she shot back, dwelling on Arson’s face. Why didn’t she have peace? Why couldn’t she reconcile her emotions? She couldn’t have them both; she knew that much. And right now, if she were really honest with herself, she didn’t even want Adam. But a person was more than scattered moments of hurt, and she was more than a simple choice. She dared not choose now.

“It seems your powers are back now. Convenient.”

He noticed her doorslit glare and countered it. “Give me your hand.”

“No, just leave it alone.”

“Emery, let me try.”

“Try? Like you did with my mom? What’s the point?”

“Fine. Deal with the pain. You know, maybe I should’ve just let…”

“What?” Emery asked, but no part of her really wanted to know what horrible thing lay at the end of that sentence. “What?” she asked again, shoving him in the chest.

“Nothing.” He fished the biker’s wallet out from the rear pocket and tossed the license. After making sure his laces were tied, Adam crept to the end of the alley. “Let’s move. I know where Arson is.”

“How?”

He sighed. “Are you gonna be a skeptic forever?”

“Maybe. Tell me.”

“When I blacked out, I found him. I slid into his mind. I know where they are, but I didn’t get the feeling they can stay there for long. It’s dangerous for any of us to stay in one place for too long.”

“Ya think?” she sarcastically agreed, rubbing her new wound.

“Please let me look at that.”

She knew that, in spite of his anger and that off look in his eyes, he still cared. “Fine, here.”

He examined it, shut his eyes and pressed his fingers against the skin. She waited. And waited some more, but the sting remained, and so did the wound.

“Weird.”

“I thought your powers were back.”

“They are… I mean…they were.” He attempted to heal her a second time. Again, nothing happened. He grunted, frustrated, and swung his open hand toward the alley’s dead end. There should’ve been a blast of energy, fire, something. But no power left him. “C’mon!” His attempts were so tiresome that his face produced sweat.

“Stop,” Emery said. “It’s okay. I’ll survive.”

“No. It’s been enough time. My powers should be fully restored by now. Why is it so sporadic? What’s wrong with me?”

“Maybe it’s the blackouts. Have you ever heard of half-life?”

“Is that some computer lingo?”

“Yes, Shawshank, it is. If your body is like a battery that constantly needs to be charged and recharged, then maybe when it’s forced to shut down and then reboot again, your powers get all mixed up.”

“No.” He dismissed her without a second thought and tried to force his abilities to work. “I told you, I slid into Arson’s mind. And, in case you weren’t paying attention, I just killed that freak with one thought. My powers
are
back. I’m…just a bit rusty, that’s all.”

“Listen to me, Adam, and stop being so freaking stubborn. I think what you’re experiencing is some kind of half-life. And, if that’s true, every time you lose control of it by blacking out, or if you die—”

“I didn’t die.”

“What would you call it, then?”

He didn’t have a good retort, so he said nothing.

“Whenever you lose control of your powers, however you want to define that—blacking out or dying or whatever—I’ll bet your system gets weaker, especially because, for years, you’ve been sedated so Salvation could control your powers. Your body’s probably confused. It makes sense that when it’s forced into shock, it only allows you so much before returning to what’s safe: Reboot.”

“That’s garbage, Emery.”

“Is it? Or is it just garbage because I’m telling you something you don’t want to hear? Something you’re not ready for?”

Again, he was speechless.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now. Let’s just concentrate on finding Arson.”

“Okay, Mr. Mature,” she said under her breath. “Where is he? And how are we supposed to find him?”

“We’re in the same state. I’m still connected to him, Emery, which throws a slight wrench in your theory.”

She rolled her eyes and stuck her neck out of the alley, making sure the cops hadn’t swooped around for a second search.

“He’s in a town called Somerville. And your dad’s with him.”

Her pulse skipped. “You saw my Dad?”

“The only one I saw was Arson, but when I was with him, he thought about your dad, so I was able to pick up the frequency that your old man was still alive.”

She smiled and felt a surge of happiness skip across her veins.

“My powers
aren’t
gone, Emery.”

“Never said they were. At least, not completely.”

“I’ll gain full control soon, you’ll see. And I’ll be more powerful than before. I’ll prove you wrong.”

“I hope you do. Now, assuming your mental GPS decides to function throughout the whole trip, how are we supposed to get to Somerville?”

He glanced at her with a smirk. “You managed to break into a store and steal us some clothes, didn’t you?”

“I’m not a car thief.”

“Before tonight you weren’t a shoplifter either.”

She hated that he said that, like that label would now follow her around forever. Emery shrugged and ran back to where the biker lay. The devil had vacated the pale, lifeless portrait of the man. She dug into his pockets and retrieved a set of keys then threw them at Adam.

“Let’s find this scumbag’s ride and get out of here before we catch Hep C.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

A
dam was alive. Redd
couldn’t believe it, or maybe her mind wasn’t ready to. She sat at the table in the kitchen, trying to figure out the next logical move. Wait. The next move was just to wait. Problem was, she’d never been good at that.

She wondered who among the Salvation personnel had made it out before the facility went up in flames, if any. She hadn’t received a call from Saul Hoven in hours, which wasn’t like him, so odds were that the vulture had bit the bullet. If that were true, she wouldn’t be all that disturbed about it. Instead what bothered her was the gaping hole of a question at the center of her stomach: the
what now?
dilemma. He’d been the leader of a multi-billion-dollar facility, after all, so his death—and she hoped it was a good one—would surely have consequence upon their mission. She hated the man, and all day had been mulling over the idea that perhaps it was time to bow out. But knowing her contract would never expire, suicide would’ve been the only method of escape.

She massaged the handle of her gun now, slid her fingertips over the grooves. She could do it. She swore she
could
do it. But with the knowledge of her brother’s existence in the balance, the ability to do something didn’t seem to have the same weight as the consequence that would inevitably follow. She’d have to be a lunatic to pull the trigger.

Redd placed the gun down, folded her hands, and shut her eyes. She was so naïve to believe he’d died all those years ago. So blind. Every stray, accusatory thought now stormed the forefront of her mind—a furious, unending battlefield. The Overseers really were cold, heartless bastards. They’d allowed her to believe he died in order to ensure her recruitment. They knew the events of her past, and that the world itself had turned her cold, numb. They knew his death would be the fire necessary to ignite her faith in their cause. His death was the surest shot they had. And they hit her right between the eyes.

“Never again,” she sighed, and finally, she broke. Redd got up from her seat with the gun in hand. “Joel, give me your phone.” He was on the sofa, thumbing through a Bible—specifically, the book of Malachi.

“Why?” a suspicious Kyro asked as Joel glanced anxiously at the firearm.

She snatched the phone from his hand and threw it to the ground. Then she stomped on the broken pieces with her heel.

“What’s the matter with you?” Joel frantically said.

“She don’t want ’em trackin’ us, Cass,” Kyro chimed, putting it together in an instant. “Good thinkin’, trick.”

“Again with the
them
. Who’s after us?”

Don’t do it, Lana. Don’t.
“The Overseers. They’ll probably be after us soon.”

Kyro started pacing the living room.

“Sit down!” He obeyed upon the first request, which shocked her.

“Who exactly are these
Overseers
?” Joel asked.

She swallowed the sludge of saliva creeping up her throat and replied, “The minds behind it all.”

What do you think you’re doing? This is suicide. This will be the end of everything you’ve worked for. Everything you believed in!

She knew that what would follow would make her extremely vulnerable. She knew, and she didn’t care. “The people who ran the asylum, the ones really calling the shots, are a lot more powerful than you or anyone realizes.”

Joel tilted his head and put the Bible down.

“Who are they?” Arson probed.

Her jaw was a cage, the words an untamed monster desperate to claw its way out. “My employers.”

“I knew it! I knew it, Cass! This redheaded skank set us up!” He eyed her weapon. “Nuke this trash, Arson.”

“Everybody keep calm,” she said, raising the gun then dislodging the magazine. She chucked it into Kyro’s lap. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

A look of bewilderment bloomed in the creases of Joel’s worn-out face. “The truth… You…were going to kill us?”

“He that has ears, let him hear. This is so screwed up, man. I knew she was dirty.” Tears of rage spilled out of the young street kid’s eyes.

“Did you take Emery?” Arson said with a squint that meant the information had started to click.

“Listen to me, all of you. I never meant—”

“Did you take her?” Joel slammed his fists against the coffee table in front of him and nearly sprained his wrist.

“No. Lamont’s team was responsible for acquiring the subjects.”

“Subjects?” Arson mused. “Wow.”

“I’m sorry. That’s what we called you. We branded you all with numbers.”

“Two-nineteen,” Arson said, pressing two fingers against his wrist, where the microscopic identifying digits were imprinted.

“I didn’t mean—”

“She wasn’t some
subject
, Redd! She was my child!” There was an unmatched intensity in Joel’s voice. She thought he might lunge at her. “How could I have been so stupid? Kyro tried to warn me, but I let myself believe the lie.”

She could tell Joel was compiling and arranging the uncomfortable data in his mind. It was a fractured attempt at processing, like an obsolete computer searching for updates without the ability to handle them.

“Joel, please stop calling me Redd. My real name is Lana. Lana Casey.”

Kyro’s face read like someone who had forgotten where he’d left a scrap of information until some other truth could bring it once more into the light. “Dude, the crash must’ve knocked some pieces loose in my head, made me forget. But now the cards are finally on the table, ain’t they? All it took was everything goin’ to hell.”

“No more lies. I’m sorry, for everything.”

Joel’s knuckles clenched into fists, fists she imagined had been used to rest a weary face against during a stolen prayer—traded now for thoughts of revenge. “I don’t want your apology. My daughter was ripped from my life. And my wife… She’s dead because of you.”

“Whose home is this?” Arson asked abruptly, his hand toying with a spark.

“It really did belong to a guy named Trent. That’s the truth. He was an engineer, had two kids.”

Kyro glanced at the picture closest to the door.

“The Overseers hired him to be a carrier. A host for one of the advanced trials. His body rejected Dose 219, the arson’s formula.” She looked at the spark then at Arson. “Your genetic code was designed to counteract the hiccup. My brother’s blood was and is still the purest form of what Henry Parker called the God gene.”

“My grandfather.”

“Yes. Adam, my brother, was born with his abilities. You were—”

“An accident?”

“An unexpected gift,” she corrected. “The gene was passed on to you by your mother, who received it from Adam. His blood healed her in a remarkable way, and the combination of his blood and hers… You.”

“I already know,” Arson said solemnly.

“You know?” Joel asked. “How?”

Arson just looked at him with stern eyes and a serious huff that suggested there wasn’t enough time to divulge.

“His father was Isaac Gable,” Lana added. “One of the chosen few to assist us in bringing about the new order. He’s dead now, isn’t he?”

Arson confirmed with a nod.

She wasted no time mourning over the dead. “We needed your blood to finish what we had started. We needed you to help more of humanity become. You, after all, were the most successful experiment. I had faith in our mission. And I was operating under the guise that my brother had died, and that we had exhausted all of the Source’s gene, which is why I believed in taking you. And Emery.” The catacomb walls tucked inside Joel’s grimace began to cave. “I was misled. I believed it was the answer. I believed it would give me purpose…or closure.”

“Did it?” Joel snapped.

“For a little while, we all had hope. We started producing Dose 219 in bulk amounts and shipped it off. Our mindset was that even if it wasn’t the purest, we thought a derivative of perfection could pick up where Adam had left off. They told me we were desperate for a swift solution, and I played their game.” She cracked her knuckles and went on. “Then, like others before him, Trent’s body began to deteriorate. Well, his girlfriend wanted the lab work, proof that it was indeed cancer killing the father of her two children, like we’d told her. And when things didn’t add up, she started to dig. Got too deep, and I was forced to enter the equation.”

“You killed her?”

“I did what I had to do. What I thought was the right thing.”

“What about abducting us, experimenting on us for their sick plan? That’s the right thing?” Arson was inches from her face. She knew he could end her at any second.

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. I’m sorry for what we did to you, Arson, but I thought it was necessary. We were trying to make our race better.”

“Do you even feel anything right now?” Joel spat. “Do you know what it is you’ve done?”

“Believe me, I wish I could be numb to it.”

“Where his kids at? The Trent guy?” Kyro wanted to know. “You off them too?”

“They were taken to our facility in Denver.”

“To be tested?” Arson asked.

She nodded and glared into two warring pupils. “I buried my brother years ago for this cause. If you think that I don’t feel the pain you feel, you’re all very wrong.”

“I never asked to be part of their plan. I was born into this chaos.”

“And so was Adam. He is the Source. Your mother would’ve died if it weren’t for his blood. You have to understand, this campaign was founded on good intentions. I joined thinking that I could help our world.”

“By damning it in the process? You’re a murderer,” Joel accused. “You joined this fool’s crusade for yourself and no one else.”

“My father…my grandfather…my mother…
you
. Everything I am was built on a lie.”

“No, Arson. Your powers are…undeniable,” Lana countered. “What you can do with one thought… That is real.”

“I’m just a byproduct, a replica of someone more powerful.”

“And what is man if not a replica of something more powerful? Your blood—and my brother’s blood—is our last chance to make us more than what we are. Mankind has existed for too long as a limited being, but his potential remains, lingering, waiting to rise. Maybe the path we took to get here was corrupt, but what if there were still a chance to alter the path?”

“Trent’s body rejected my blood.”

“It was one test. There have been hundreds since who have not.”

“You know because you helped take them,” Joel said. “You stole other people’s children. Do you get that?”

“We
can
become. Do
you
get that? Is it wrong to want to be more than what we are?”

“Become?” Joel returned, infuriated. “We are not God, Lana.”

“But we can be like him. Arson is proof of that.”

Arson lowered his head, as if beaten. “My mother died giving birth to me.”

“Nothing good comes without cost. Look, I’m sorry for the pain and the manipulation. I wish I could rewrite the past, but all we can do now is move forward.”

Arson backed away.

“Every time I look in the mirror, I see a dead girl walking. When we got the letter that the treatments had claimed my brother’s life, I blindly believed it. And my father did too. He took his life when I was still a kid. You think I don’t wrestle with remorse and hatred every single day? A part of me died, okay? My life ended when Adam left. But life is sacrifice.” She was beginning to convince even herself that her words—however callous, maybe even inhuman—were true, the seeds planted years ago.

Addressing Arson, she said, “Your grandfather was the most important of all the Overseers. He started this, which was why, when his conscience finally got to him and he decided to wash his hands of us, we let him live. We let you exist in peace.” She noticed him scoff at her words. “We watched from a distance, as your abilities manifested in wondrous ways, like we knew they would. It was during this time that my brother’s blood was being introduced to the world.”

“What?” said Joel.

“Food, drugs, water. They knew it would take years, but it worked. They infiltrated hundreds of the world’s major regions.”

“But how could they? This corporation goes that deep?”

Her head dipped, and she went on, a wave of words finally free. “Some bodies, like Trent, would reject the gene, whether in its purest form or not. But those who were built to endure, those who can handle the adaptations, will survive. Many were left alone but were kept under surveillance, studied from a distance. Some were taken, like Arson, like Emery, like Trent’s daughters.”

“Cass, I so did not sign up for this,” Kyro chimed, leaning against the window because he had started to lose his balance.

“I don’t expect to be forgiven for my sins. But it wasn’t all evil.”

“Right. I have three digits permanently tattooed in my skin.”

“Dude, that’s the least o’ yo worries.” Kyro was practically sweating. “Hell, they look kinda clutch if you ask me.”

“A change is coming, and if this world has to end or be altered so that we can begin again and possibly have peace, it would be evil to turn our backs on years of research.”

“They manipulated you. They lied to the whole world!” Joel released the tension in his knuckles, and she noticed a bit of blood smudged along the inside of his fingernails.

“Mistakes were made; this endeavor is human, after all. I swear, I won’t let them control me anymore.” She brushed a rogue strand of red hair away from her lids. “I do still believe humanity can be more.”

“So where does that leave us?” Joel asked. “I haven’t changed.”

“In order for a species to survive, it must be tested. The Overseers desire perfection. And blood is their test. Adam’s blood. Arson’s blood. Death is the only escape. Those who cannot adapt—”

“Go extinct.” Kyro scratched at his cuts. “That means we’re not fit to be a part o’ this new world order.”

“We can fight it. Just relax. In theory, their cause hinges on logic and science. But like us, some theories may need…adjustment.”

“Understatement of the century,” Arson snarled.

“We have
you
, Arson. And we’ll have my brother.”