I Am Phantom (15 page)

“What?”

“A
cure. Do you have a cure for my ‘gifts’?”

“You
must be joking. Look at what you can do. Look at what we made you into. You’re
a god!”

“Sir?”
One of the guards said as something exploded in the distance, growing closer.
Panicked feet came from outside. “What are our orders?” Carlyle pointed to two
guards.

“You
two come with me. Everyone else get out.”

“Sir—”
More screams, closer now. Carlyle stepped to one of the walls and a secret
panel slid open.

“What
about Phantom, sir?” One of the guards said.

“We’ll
get him later. If he’s survives this. Hurry up.” Carlyle vanished inside the
wall and it slid shut. The remaining men stood, watching the entrance to the
hallway.

“Run!”
I yelled, doing the same. I probably couldn’t go through the paneled doorway, but
I had spied another door leading out. I took that.

I
glanced back before I left, just as one of the guards stepping out the other
door.

“Stop!”
I yelled.

He
never stood a chance.

Sykes
was a force. Like a vengeful storm he ripped through the man like paper, painting
the wall behind him red. Clipboards clattered on the ground as the scientists holding
them were cut down one by one. Silver flashed. Blood sprayed. The last man
tried to run. Sykes casually flicked his knife at him and pinned his throat to
the wall. The man gurgled something unintelligible, groping at the gaping wound
in his neck. Sykes walked over and tugged the knife out of the steel and let
the man crumple to the ground.

He
turned to me. His front was soaked in blood and bits of gore. Already the
stench of copper filled my nose. A trail of crimson followed him as he walked,
but still his face remained calm.

“They
could have been innocent!” I said. Sykes looked down at what remained of the
men. Then he pointed his jagged knife at me.

“Leave.
Now. You can’t stop me. Not here. Not now.”

I
was terrified, but who knew how many people were still left in the lab. How
many would he kill? Some knew what they were doing but they needed justice, not
slaughter.

I
dropped into a pose. Sykes growled and, covered in blood, it made it seem like
there was no humanity left in him, just killer animal instincts.

“You
fight to protect those that wronged you. Your ideals are skewed.”

“This
is murder. They deserve justice.”

“This
is justice.” The alarm wailed louder.

I
vaulted over the table, aiming a kick at his chest. At the last second I spun
again, trying to catch him off guard. I kicked him back. He slid across the
floor, leaving a long streak of red. He was up again, driving his knife at my
throat. I grabbed his forearm and twisted it out of his grip, caught it as it
fell and hurled it away into the wall.

Something
was different about Sykes. He looked lost in thought. Like he wasn’t all there.
More than usual, I mean. His inhuman speed seemed dampened.

“I’m
not here for you,” Sykes said, as though reading my mind. “You’re as much a
victim as I am. Leave.” He pulled his head up and in his eyes I saw complete
sadness. “Please.”

What
was this? Where did this Sykes come from?

Before
I had time to think about it, Sykes had pulled out another knife and stabbed me
in the side.

It
was the most intense pain I have ever felt. I kicked out and Sykes had to step back,
taking the bloodied knife with him. My blood. I stumbled and Sykes kicked me in
the face, throwing me back into the corridor. I groaned and rolled over. Fire
lanced up my stomach.

“Leave,
Phantom!” Sykes said. “We’re done for now.”

 
I clutched at the torn skin. I could tell
the costume had taken a lot of the blow but I was still bleeding badly.

I
sucked in a breath, stood and faced him. Sykes had the knife balanced on his
fingertips but his eyes were on me. His shirt was so soaked in blood it looked
like he had just taken a swim in a bloody pool.

I
punched. His knife sheared the cuff of my costume and sparks flew as it
deflected. Sykes spun under my arm and sent me sliding back again with a rib
cracking kick.

As
much as I hated to leave, I needed to get out. I could already feel the blood
loss slowing me down. Hopefully I had distracted Sykes enough that more people
were able to escape.

Sykes
had already went through the door into the other room. I took my chance and
ran. If Sykes followed me then I couldn’t hear him.
 

I
tried to not look at the bodies as I ran past another hallway, darkened. My
feet crunch on broken glass. A few other people were moving about, running away
from me. I made it back to elevator and slammed on the up button. The wall
closed and the ceiling opened. The floor started to rise.

           
My head was spinning. The knife wound still bled, but less since I had
pressed my hand against it. My earpiece started to clear up as the elevator
finally stopped and I stumbled into the warehouse. Nobody was there. There must
have been a separate exit.

“Cody?”
I said into the earpiece.

“Drake!”
It was Melanie. “Drake are you okay? They just left to go after y—Cody!
He’s here!” I heard pounding feet grow closer to the mic.

“You
crazy son of a bitch!” Cody roared. “You about made Matt and me run in guns
blazing to save your sorry butt! What’s going on?”

          
“Sykes,” I said as my only explanation. “And I’m hurt.”

Cody’s
voice softened a bit. “Hurt? How bad? You—” He paused as he checked
something on the screen nearby. “Somebody called the police. There’re right on
top of you! Run!”

I
tore back through the boxes and burst through the doors of the warehouse,
straight into headlights. No fewer than fifteen police cars ringed the parking
lot. Their flashing lights played havoc with my vision. I shielded my eyes as
police Chief Ryans stepped out and hefted a megaphone.

“You
are under arrest! Down on the ground now!”

“Sykes
is inside!” I yelled. “He’s right inside! He killed—”

“On
the ground!” Another cop yelled. Guns cocked all around me.

“Empty
loading dock leading outside the compound to your right,” Cody said. “Can you
make it?”
             
I pressed harder on my bleeding side. “Yes.” I feigned putting my arms
up—and bolted, immediately ducking behind some stacked crates as gunfire
followed, cutting splinters into me.

“There!”
Cody yelled. I dove right, down into a loading bay and up the other side to a
fence. I had maybe a second before the police were on me.

I
hefted myself over the fence. A bullet ricocheted near my back. I ran hard
until I was forced to stop in the dark cover of a stretch of woods.
 
My side was agony.

“Drake,
buddy, are you going to make it?”

“Meet
me at the Lab. Bring a first aid kit.”

He
hesitated, about to make sure I wasn’t going to collapse right there, I think.

“Please,
Cody,” I wheezed.
   

“Right.”
             
I knew it would take more than some simple first aid kit to patch me up
but since I couldn’t go to the hospital…

By
now the sirens started up again but they were headed the wrong direction. I
limp-jogged across the street, winding my way to the Lab. It was stupid for me
to go back there just after seeing Carlyle as the leader of Project Midnight,
but my thinking was that I wasn’t really thinking at the moment. There was a
good chance he was still underground or had another place he could hide. Even
he wouldn’t be bold enough to flee the scene of a crime and then seek refuge inside
a high-profile facility on campus grounds.

Kind
of like I was doing…

Fresh
blood ran down my hand. The wound wasn’t deep but it wouldn’t stop bleeding and
it would be a miracle if I could make it back to the Lab without passing out.
It wasn’t too far, I knew, but my strength was fading fast.

Melanie’s
voice quavered but came through. “You still there, Drake? Should we come get
you?”

“I’ll
make it,” I said. “Just make sure you aren’t seen.” With great effort I started
a lumbering jog that would have made an inebriated zombie embarrassed.

“We’ll
be there,” Melanie said. As I kept out of sight and then emerged beneath the shadow
of the Lab, I heard her leave and the microphone go dead.

Getting
in to the Lab had to be one of the top ten greatest entrances of all time, for
the sheer fact that I spilled minimal amounts of blood in the empty lobby as I
crossed it and got into the elevator. I exited on our floor and made it to Cody
and Matt’s room in the back. The Lab was completely vacant, as usual.

My
vision swam as I slid to the floor inside their room. Gingerly, my side
screaming, I took off my hood and mask and let the sharp, cold air free the
sweaty hair plastered to my forehead. All the lights on our floor were off; the
only sound was the hum of the air conditioner and the small creaks echoing
along the ceiling. The stab wound contrasted with the sting of air on the back
of my throat with each ragged breath.

What was I doing?

Project
Midnight, the same people who had destroyed my life, were still at it, probably
stronger than before. If I had tried to stop them from hurting that man. If I
had stepped in sooner, if I couldn’t…if…if…

 
If I couldn’t stop those bad things
happening then what was the point? When I thought back to the last few months I
realized nothing had really changed in Queensbury. I was just a kid running
around in a costume. Sykes was still free and I hadn’t come much closer to
finding out about my past.

I
heard the sliding door open and a second later the lights came on. Cody’s
footsteps froze in the doorway.

“Drake….”
He started. I saw him clutch the wall and take some steadying breaths.

“I
don’t look that bad,” I croaked. Surprisingly, Matt didn’t hesitate, but
brought the first aid kit next to me and began dabbing the wound. Melanie entered
last and she looked just as distraught as Cody.

“This
will sting,” Matt said a second before the cloth touched my cut. It hurt bad,
but not as bad as the knife.

“I’ve
got high pain tolerance,” I bragged. Bull crap. I was about to pass out. My
head was spinning again.

Cody
managed to pull himself from the wall and brought some water over. I drank it
greedily.

“Sykes
did this to you?” he asked. It took me a moment to remember I had taken the
camera out. They hadn’t seen Sykes. They hadn’t seen Carlyle. Cody bent down to
look at the cut. “The suit should have deflected the hit better than this. He
must have had perfect form to run it through like that.”

“He’s
like me, Cody. Better than me, actually. Of course he has perfect form.”

Cody
nodded. “Right…right.”

“Let
me do it, Matt,” Melanie said. She peeled back the costume and finished
cleaning.

“Woman’s
touch.” I winked sluggardly at Matt. Geez, I sounded like an idiot. I blamed it
on the blood loss. Cody fished through the kit and came up with a few pills.

“You’re
going to need these,” he said. “And you’re lucky you have the premium costume
insurance package. It’ll take ages to get these stains out.”

“We
need to get you to a hospital,” Melanie said. “It just hit muscle but you need
a professional in case there’s any internal trauma.”
            
“And how will you explain how I got hurt?”

“Easy,
you’ll think of something—”

“I
come into the hospital with mysterious bruises and wounds right after the
police saw Phantom injured and fleeing the scene of a crime. They’ll link the
two.”

“They
can’t possibly think you—”

“Melanie,
Carlyle was down there.”

All
three of them froze. It took a second for Melanie to resume cleaning. The
sterile stench of antiseptic clogged my nose.

“You
must have seen wrong. Carlyle is director of the Lab, not some guy for Project
Midnight.”

“It
was him, Melanie. He told me I was their design. He offered me answers.”

“You
must have seen wrong, Drake, you must have.” Her voice was tinged with
disbelief. “I’ve worked with Carlyle a couple times. He’s strict, yes, but he
would never run something like that. Something that hurts and kidnaps
and—”

“Kills.
They had a man down there who looked like he had just been grabbed off the
street. They were testing a serum on him and it killed him.”

“What
was the serum?” Matt said. Both he and Cody looked in shock. I guess I would
too if I had found out the Lab I was working for was led by a sadist.