The Other Side of Truth (The Marked Ones Trilogy Book 3) (39 page)

Oh this is
so
not good.

That’s not our only problem
, Aku said uneasily.

My eyes darted back up to the door, but there was no one there.

“I commed the Bus for help before this thing shorted out,” Shawn said as he held up something that may have been a pair of digital glasses at one point, but was now a shattered mess. And if the bloody green gash just shy of his left eye was any indication, the culprit had probably been a stray titanium bullet.

“What bus?” I asked Shawn in confusion.

Patrick
, Aku said urgently within my head.

What?

They are turning it back on.

Turning what back on?

We need to leave them—it’s not safe.

What’s not safe? What are they turning back—?

A horrific pain raced up my spine, and I fell against the overturned table, gasping, my back arched nearly to the breaking point. It felt like every nerve ending in my body was on fire…or
worse
. And just when I thought I was going to pass out, the pain was gone again.

As I sucked in huge gulps of air, I realized Shawn was calling my name. My vision blurred in and out again until he finally leapt back into sharp focus.

Shawn looked slowly between me, and and Nikki. “What just happened?”

I pushed myself back onto my knees, coughing. “I need to borrow your
wakizashi
.”

“No way in hell, Kiskei said not too—”

“Shawn,” I said cutting him off. “You have to trust me.”

He looked at me for a long moment before he finally sighed. “Take it. I really can’t use it at the moment, anyways.”

I slid the
wakizashi
out of its loop on the hostler at his hip. I was much better with a
katana
, but some of the corridors were much too narrow for one to be of any good. As I looked down at the
wakizashi
I realized it wasn’t a normal Japanese blade. “How do I get the scabbard off?”

Shawn looked at me cautiously as he reached out and pressed the top of the pommel. And with a smooth
click-woosh
, the scabbard retracted like a set of nesting dolls to become the guard of the sword.

“Well that’s…
special
,” I commented, arching an eyebrow.

“Amurai special issue.”

Patrick
, Aku urgently reminded me.

I looked back up at Shawn and Nikki. “Look, I don’t want to leave you but…it’s not safe for me to be here right now.”

Shawn looked at me in confusion for a moment before realization dawned in his eyes. “I should have shot you.”

“Probably,” I agreed as I backed away slowly, and then turned and ran.

The Masks We Wear

Tuesday, January 1st

PATRICK

I
turned the corner, and ran
smack into someone. On reflex and instinct alone, I swung out Shawn’s
wakizashi
to rebalance myself, and nearly succeeded in slicing Nathan across the middle. He just stared at me, and I blinked back at him in shock.

After swallowing hard, Nathan took a step toward me. “
Aku, ko Amurai suna Kalo
—”

I pointed the borrowed titanium-coated blade at him, and stated as tonelessly as I could manage, “Sorry, Aku’s not here right now.”

All the color drained from Nathan’s face. “
Patrick
?” he asked in an unsteady voice.

“At the moment.” And even as I said it, pain flashed behind my eyes. The barely contained rage bubbling to the surface as my mind tried to switch over to the other me—to Aku.

“Patrick, I can explain—”

“There is too much blood on your hands to
ever
explain this away,” I growled as I moved the blade closer so it was nearly piercing his shirt. And that’s when I noticed it—how much of a disheveled mess his hair was, and that his hands were bound with thick plastic zip-ties.

Wait
? Why was Nathan bound?

As my mind raced to find an answer someone screeched to a halt at my right, and I whipped my blade in their direction. Wide, familiar, black-blue eyes stared back at me through the dim light from beneath a wide black hood and a set of digital glasses. He had only stopped a fraction of an inch from skewering himself on Shawn’s
wakizashi
.

“Travis, what the fuck are
you
doing here?!” I asked in surprise as I lowered the blade.

“Rescuing you,” Travis answered with a heavy breath as he pushed back the wide black hood.

“
Excuse
me?” I asked in stunned disbelief before I finally processed what he was wearing, a sick feeling starting to settle into my stomach. Travis was dressed just like Shawn had been, except that his mask was pulled down and hanging around his neck like a weird scarf. A small pack and holster strapped hastily around his waist so the fabric of obi sash and cuirass laid unevenly.

“Wait, you’re not a—”

“Of
course
not, I’m an Amurai Protectorate,” Travis replied, jerking his head back.

“A
what
?!” I asked in startled exasperation.

Travis let out a huff. “Never mind, tell you—”

With a grunt Nathan lunged at us, but I was far too fast for him to take me by surprise. I whipped my blade around so quickly it made a whistling sound as it cut through the air, stopping it just a hair short of slicing into his neck.

“I wasn’t done talking to you,” I stated with a deadly calm.

Nathan swallowed hard, and held up his hands in surrender as he sank down to his knees.

It was in that moment that Travis seemed to finally realize that the rumpled mess in front of us was Nathan Jordash, or Connolly, or whatever his last name
really
was. The same Nathan that had organized the attack on The Embassy. That had tried to blow Nualla to pieces. That had murdered our parents.

In one quick motion, Travis leveled his gun at Nathan. As the trigger clicked part of me just wanted him to pull it—for this all to be over and done with. But we needed answers—
I
needed answers—and we weren’t going to be able to get them from a dead man.

“Don’t shoot him!” I shouted quickly as I pushed Travis’ gun toward the wall.

Travis stared at me, his eyebrows shooting up in shock. “It’s a TranqGun you idiot! I wouldn’t just shoot—”

Nathan moved suddenly, and we both leveled our weapons at him. He put his hands up in surrender, but we didn’t lower our weapons—not this time.

“As I was saying, I wouldn’t just
kill
him. Not right away, anyways. I want answers first,” Travis stated, the words turning into a growl at the end as he glared at Nathan. In that moment I didn’t think I had ever seen him look more menacing. “Why?” he barked out.

“Why what?” Nathan asked in confusion.

“Why did you
murder
them?” Travis clarified, a sharp edge creeping into his voice.

“Those in The Embassy?” Nathan asked, furrowing his brow.

“Our
parents
. I know why you murdered all those people in The Embassy—you’re Kakodemoss—it’s what you do,” Travis accused through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t murder your—”

“Don’t
lie
to me!” Travis shouted, the hand holding the TranqGun shaking a bit. “Three of these in your chest will stop your heart. So don’t you
dare
lie to me!”

Travis and Nathan stared at each other for a tense moment before Nathan looked away. “We killed them because we were ordered to,” Nathan stated simply, his voice devoid of remorse. “I was supposed to kill you as well, but I didn’t.”

“What?” Travis replied, the aim of the TranqGun wavering a bit.

“You looked so much like him, even at that age, that killing you should have been easy. But when it came down to it, I just couldn’t do it. You were a child—a child who had done
nothing
—and I just couldn’t bring myself to kill you,” Nathan admitted, unable to meet our eyes. Either because he was ashamed of letting Travis go. Or because he had ever considered killing him in the first place.

“You expect me to believe that
bullshit
?” Travis sneered in disgust as his grip on the TranqGun tightened.

“It’s the truth,” Nathan replied, finally meeting Travis’ eyes. “Children are…precious.”

“Don’t you
dare
spout that crap. You murdered hundreds of people!” Travis shouted with revulsion.

“And not one of them was a child!” Nathan shouted back defiantly. There was something in his eyes. Some emotion I couldn’t quite place. A strange mixture of indignation, and unfathomable sadness.

And then the pieces all clicked into place, like the pressure pin on a landmine.

“We only replaced what Joshua Centrina stole from us.”

“…would clone Jane’s precious Patrick.”

And I realized why they had wanted me—
needed
me—so much. Part revenge, part desperate longing.

“You had a son,” I stated on a startled breath.

Nathan’s eyes darted to me, softening. “Yes, a
real
son, not someone we adopted and changed. A child born of our flesh. And your father took our Patrick away. Killed him in cold blood just because of
what
he was.”

It might have been the truth, but I didn’t think it was as simple as all that. Because if my father had felt nothing when he had killed their son, my parents wouldn’t have named me Patrick.

I looked over at Travis, and all the color had drained from his face as if he had realized the very same thing.

“That’s still not an excuse for everything you’ve done,” Travis said in a low, strangled voice.

Nathan raised his chin a fraction of an inch, meeting Travis’ glare, unflinchingly. “And that’s for the gods to judge, not you.”

Travis glared back at him with loathing before a tiny, nearly inaudible sound emanated from the comm on the glasses. In a rush his face went slack, and the remaining color drained out of it.

“Travis?” I asked uncertainly.

Without answering his gun arm jerked up suddenly, and he shot two tranq bullets into Nathan.

“What the
fuck
?!” I yelped.

“It wont kill him, just make him sleep for a real long time,” Travis said unapologetically before he started running down the hall.

“Travis, where are you
going
?” I called after him. My eyes darting between Nathan, who was rapidly falling unconscious, and Travis who was running carelessly down the hall.

“Parker’s in trouble,” he called back without stopping.

“
What
?! How?” I asked as I abandoned Nathan, and started after Travis.

Travis looked over his shoulder with panicked fear raging in his eyes. “Her comm went offline.”

The Machanta

Tuesday, January 1st

PATRICK

W
e ran flat-out down the
dimly lit corridor until we reached the next intersection. When we were halfway through a wave of nausea hit me, and a strobe of flashing memories cluttered my vision.

“Why are you stopping?” Travis called out over his shoulder. And when I didn’t answer, he stopped and turned around to look back at me. “What’s wrong?” he asked uncertainly.

I stared down the hallway that crossed our path. There was something down there—something that was very,
very
important.

“You go, I…” I said distractedly, my eyes still fixed at the end of the corridor. At the single black door in a sea of white walls and doors.

“Patrick!” Travis called out urgently.

I whipped my head in his direction. “You go. Go find Parker. There’s…there’s something I need to do.”

I could see so many emotions move across his face. Warring with each other, to see which would win out. But one shone louder than them all. I may have been his brother—his family—but Parker was his
One
.

“
Go,
you idiot, I can take care of myself!”

He didn’t wait to be told again—just turned and continued running.

I walked slowly toward the door, the corridor feeling somehow longer with each step. A cold prickling sweat had broken out across my skin, and my breathing was coming out in short, shaking breaths. My heart beating unbelievably fast in my chest, like a frightened rabbit, and I was afraid to know why. But I still asked.
Aku, what’s behind this door?

He didn’t answer, but I could feel him stirring. Feel a strange mixture of seething rage, and unfathomable terror swirling around inside me.

Aku?

This is where it all happens
, he finally stated in an uneven voice.

Where
what
happens?
I asked him within my own head. I was getting more used to the idea of talking to him—to myself—within my own mind. But it didn’t make the whole thing any less weird.

Where they take everything from you.

Everything?

Everything
, Aku repeated bitterly, and that’s when I finally understood—finally remembered. Beyond this door was the Machanta. The machine that stole our memories—our-souls—and made us into monsters. This was were Aku had been born. Where
this
Patrick had been born.

I swallowed hard.
We have to destroy it.

Aku was silent for a long moment before he replied.
Yes…we do.

There was something about the way he said it that was unsettling, but in that moment I couldn’t decide why.

I put my hand to the door to slide it open, but it didn’t budge. I looked over to the keypad. It didn’t have a hand sensor like the others, but a more traditional twelve button display.

If the rest of the doors opened when the power was knocked out, why didn’t this door open?

This door, and everything beyond it is on its own generator, separate from the rest of the facility,
Aku stated.

Why?

I don’t know.

Well, if the power to this door wasn’t knocked out when everything
else
was, then how do we get in?
I asked with slight frustration.

That I
do
know,
Aku stated with confidence.

You
do
?
I asked skeptically, my eyebrows shooting up.

Unless he’s changed it—and I doubt he has, he’s much too arrogant for that—the code should still be 14550151.

Why 14550151?
I asked as my hand hovered over the keypad.

Think about it.

14550151. 14550151. 14550151.
What could it— and then it hit me all at once.

“Oh that’s a bit brilliant,” I said with a small laugh as I started to punch in the numbers.

There was something about the sleek simplicity of the Machanta that made it seem even more sinister.

“That’s it?” I asked aloud this time as I stared at the machine that looked more like a tanning bed than a torture device.

Yes.

Without another word I turned, and walked back into the control room I had passed on my way into the Machanta room. I picked up the closest object that wasn’t attached to anything—a metal chair—and marched back into the Machanta Room.

What are you doing?
Aku asked as I raised that chair.

I’m going to destroy it
, I answered as I prepared to bring that chair down on the Machanta. It had taken so much from me, from Aku—from us all—and it would never take another single thing again.

Wait
, Aku said suddenly.

Why? Do you want the honors or something?
I asked, pausing.

Well yes, but it’s not that.

Then what?
I asked, lowering the chair a bit more.

I don’t know what will happen
, Aku admitted after a moment.

What do you mean?

Aku was silent for an even longer time before he answered,
I don’t know which of us will be…dominant.

I froze.
What?

After we had the chip removed the first time, there was only about a fifty percent chance you would have woken up as you instead of me. Which means—

“It’s a gamble,” I breathed out on a heavy breath as I lowered the chair slowly.

And then I realized something else.

You didn’t have to tell me that
, I said slowly.

I know.

So what do we do?
I asked hesitantly.

You decide if it’s worth the risk.

I lowered the chair a bit more. Was it? Was it worth risking losing myself to finally be rid of the thing that made me a monster?

I’ll always be a danger to her—to them, as long as this machine is active, right?

Yes.

Then that really only leaves one option, doesn’t it?
I said with resignation as I raised the metal chair high above my head. And brought it down swiftly on the Machanta. Reveling in the sound of it shattering. The sound of the pieces bounding off the floor around me. And then I couldn’t seem to stop myself as I slammed the metal chair into everything in sight.

Some time later, I stood there surveying my handiwork, breathing heavily, a slightly unhinged grin across my lips.

It’s finally over
, Aku said with wonder.

So what do we do—?

A flash of pain hit me like a lightning strike erupting in my head, and I dropped the mangled metal chair. A sound was screaming through my head, so horrible and high-pitched that it washed away everything else. Every other sensation, other than the blinding, mind numbing pain.

Get away from the Machanta!
Aku screamed inside my head.
If you don’t get away from it now, we’ll die!
Aku continued, his voice just barely cutting through the screeching sound that was filling my head.

I stumbled out of the room, and into the next. Blindly crashing forward, desperate to make the pain stop. I don’t know how far I got before I collapsed to the floor.

TRAVIS

I
bolted down the dimly lit
corridor, my heart beating like a warning in my chest. I rounded a corner, and stopped dead when I saw a smear of something dark and blood-like on the floor just in front of a stairway. So out of place in the sterile white corridor.

Please be okay. Please, gods, let Parker be okay.

Creeping forward cautiously, I peered down into the stairway, my TranqGun ready for any threat. Parker was leaning up against the wall on the mid-rise landing, the broken body of a Kakodemoss guard a bit further down the stairway. One of her hands was wrapped protectively across her middle, and the other was holding tight to a TranqGun that was leveled at me.

“
Travis
?” Parker asked in disbelief, squinting up at me in the dim light.

“Um…
hi
,” I greeted her, breathing a sigh of relief. She was alive. She was okay…or
mostly
okay anyways.

“Good thing I hesitated,” she said as she lowered the TranqGun.

“Oh, yeah, good thing,” I agreed as I started to lower my TranqGun as well.

“What are you
doing
here, Travis?” Parker asked as she pulled her mask down around her neck.

“Your comm went offline and—”

It all happened so quickly. The fear filling Parker’s eyes as she screamed my name. The blade slicing across my right shoulder as I turned. My finger pulling the trigger. And the stunned confusion filling Natasha’s eyes.

What felt like only a heartbeat later, Natasha grabbed hold of my sleeve, her mouth trying to form a word. But she never quite made it there before her grip on me slackened, and she crumpled to the floor. Joining the smear of blood and the four tranq dart casings. Her
katana
making an odd
clang
as it hit the ground. The smoky, acid green tinge to the air around it marking it as titanium. The sickening color swirling up into the air like the blade was releasing dye into a pool of clear water. And I just stared down at her, unable to move or even breathe.

I had just killed someone. It was to protect my life—to protect
Parker’s
life—but I just
killed
someone. And the weight of that hit me hard in the chest shortly before the realization that had I still been a
regular
Kalodaemon I would have been moments from death right now. That being infected with the K1-2012 virus had just probably saved my life.

“Travis!” Parker screamed, finally ripping me from the numbness.

I turned back around to face her, my whole body shaking. And without saying a word, I started down the stairs to her. I somehow managed to make it all the way down to the bottom step before I sat down hard. And then I just stared at my shaking hands.

You just killed someone
, a voice in the back of my mind whispered.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you but…Travis, what are you doing here?” Parker asked, pulling me from my inner torment.

“I just couldn’t stay on the Bus not knowing what had happened to you,” I answered, still staring down at my hands.

“So you thought you’d just run in here with absolutely no training and a TranqGun?” Parker asked dubiously.

“It’s no harder than a video game,” I said with a slightly hysterical laugh as I finally looked up at her.

“Video games don’t usually make you
bleed
when they hit you,” Parker pointed out with narrowed eyes.

“I’m fine,” I stated, wiping my sweaty palms on the strange tight black pants of the Amurai uniform.

“Travis, it’s dripping onto the floor,” Parker countered flatly.

“Okay, maybe I’m not,” I agreed as I ran my hand across my right shoulder, and it came back covered in blood.

This is bad, this is really,
really
bad. I need to get us both out of here before I lose too much blood.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, my eyes darting to her. But even as I asked it, I realized that it was a stupid question. The right side of her cuirass was shredded and her lower left leg was at a weird angle.

“We fell down the stairs, but this guy—” Parker stated as she jerked a thumb in the direction of the dead Kakodemoss agent, “—took most of the impact. So I’m fairly certain that the…that the baby is okay.”

My heart shuddered and skipped a few beats as my eyes darted to the hand still wrapped protectively around her middle.