Metawars: The Complete Series: Trance, Changeling, Tempest, Chimera (116 page)

“Burn the demon out of her! Free her from its evil grasp!”

I was shaking and I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop the barrage of memories, either. Memories of events I’d shoved down and blocked out a long time ago, things I’d only ever shared with three people in my entire life: my foster parents and William Hill. William found out the broad strokes when we were still kids. His father had been in the Ranger Unit that rescued me that day, and William and I became reluctant friends. We’d talked about it again as adults, not long before he died in a gas explosion.

Another fucking fire immolating another piece of my life.

“We’re your family now, Renee,” William had said almost twenty years ago. “The Rangers are all you need.”

“I missed you, Blue,” were the first words he’d said when we met again at Rangers HQ nine months ago.

“Renee?”

I think it was Thatcher’s voice, coming from far away, on the other side of my descent into the pain of my past. My eyes stung and my cheeks were wet, and on the tail end of my fear came humiliation. I didn’t cry in front of others. I did it in private—always.

Someone touched my arm. I jerked away and kept going. I didn’t mean to run, not really, and I had no idea where I was going. I bolted across the road, half blind, and into the thick forest of trees and underbrush and fallen debris. No crash of pursuit. No shouts for me to stop. I kept going, strangely freed by the burn in my legs and lungs, urged onward by spiking adrenaline.

Away from that damned platform, I tried to put the ghosts of my past back into that dark, protected place in my mind. But this time they wouldn’t let me close them off completely. My brain echoed with the phantom taunts and my nose stayed full of the odor of charred wood and smoke. I ran until I stumbled, crashing to my hands and knees in a pile of wet leaves and dirt.

Gasping for breath turned into choking sobs. I hugged my knees to my chest and cried in the privacy of the mountains, with only holly trees and a few squirrels to see me. I didn’t have to be quiet, didn’t have to pretend it hurt less than it did. I cried for myself, for the girl who stole the bread, and for everyone this community council had publicly punished in the name of law and order. I hated them for their cruelty, and I hated myself for my weakness.

Eventually my sobs quieted. I lay in the leaves, curled tight in a ball, head throbbing, exhausted. I blew my nose and wiped it on some semi-dry maple leaves (you use what you’ve got). I had to go back at some point, but staying put seemed so much easier. It didn’t require getting up. I was also pretty sure that I was lost.

“Today just keeps getting better and better,” I said to a nearby holly tree.

The only way I was getting out of here was by getting up off my emotional ass. Easier said than done, though. Getting out of here at all required going back to town (which I had no idea how to find). I didn’t hate the town. Part of me admired their tenacity for sticking it out when the government had pretty much abandoned them. They kept their community alive despite all odds, even if they had to steal to feed themselves. I didn’t fault them for wanting their children not to starve.

I did fault them for that platform. Punishment for a crime was one thing. Public punishment and humiliation, especially brought against a child, was wrong. I couldn’t forgive that.

I managed to sit up, only slightly dizzy. I had a few small cuts on my hands I hadn’t noticed before, probably from running blindly into tree branches on my psychotic race into the woods. Those marks made me aware of a slight sting above my left eye, and I found another oozing cut there.

“Fabulous.”

Wood snapped in the distance, from the direction I was pretty sure I’d come. The sound repeated a few times, moving closer. Had Landon chased after me? Or sent Thatcher to bring me back? I stood up and waited, scanning the thick underbrush for any sign of movement.

“Renee!”

My ears perked up. “Here! I’m over here!”

The rustle and crash increased, growing steadily louder, until Ethan burst through the brush. He barreled right at me and swept me up into a tight hug. I threw my arms around his neck, never so glad to see him in my life. And it wasn’t until my cheek collided with cold metal that I realized he wasn’t exactly as he’d been yesterday.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He held me at arm’s length and stared at me like I was an idiot. Ethan had been fitted with a collar not unlike the security collars used on the Manhattan prisoners. And it looked exactly like the collar that had been used on Andrew last month. “I’m fine, Stretch. Are you all right?”

“Better now.”

“That’s not an answer. Thatcher said you freaked out and ran into the woods. That isn’t like you.” He touched my cheek in such a protective, brotherly way that I wanted to break down again. This was my family now. Nothing in the past mattered.

“I’m just happy to see you,” I said. “We’ve been climbing the walls since yesterday.”

“Me, too, trust me.” A brief flash of fear crossed his face. “How’s Aaron really?”

“Pissed and worried, like I said before, but physically fine. We found him pretty quickly, tied up like a Christmas turkey.”

“Stopping for a body in the road was a stupid idea, huh? When Aaron collapsed . . .”

“He’s perfectly fine, Ethan, I swear. And you’re sure you’re okay? What about that collar?”

He tugged at the metal cinched tight around his neck. “It’s annoying, but it doesn’t hurt. Bethany says it has a built-in shocking mechanism, and if it’s anything like the collars I saw the Recombinant clones use on Andrew and Freddy, I’m not about to test her word.”

“So she’s kept you here with the collar.”

“Basically. Says if I go farther than a half mile from the remote, it will automatically shock me into unconsciousness. How the hell did she even get a collar like this?”

Uncle.

“Did Bethany tell you anything about the man who raised her and Landon?” I asked.

“No.” He scowled. “She didn’t say much beyond a few attempts to flirt with me. Why?”

I summed up Landon’s comments about Uncle. “She couldn’t have gotten that collar on her own, and we know the clones got their collars from their creators. What if Uncle is tied to the Recombinant projects? What if training these kids is somehow part of a larger plan?”

The impact of what I suggested seemed to hit Ethan all at once, because he looked ill. “Then I think we’re in the middle of a bigger plot than any of us imagined.”

“But it doesn’t make sense. Landon and Bethany were raised as thieves, sure, but they use their skills to help people. It’s not like they’re robbing banks and keeping the money.”

“I understand that, believe me. But they’re still committing crimes. Worse, they’re Metas committing crimes, and that’s all the general public will see. Landon and Bethany have motivations, but all this will do is keep driving that wedge between Metas and regular people. And something tells me this damned Uncle or Overseer or whoever knows that.”

“He’s using them,” I said. “This Uncle told Landon that his father abandoned him to go off and murder children in the name of the Banes.”

Ethan pulled a face. “Derek’s not like that.”

“I know, but Landon didn’t. He believed it, and maybe he still does. I bet you Uncle told Bethany something similar about her mother.”

“Do you think Uncle sought out the children of known Banes in order to manipulate their emotions and make them loyal to him?”

“It makes sense. Another fucking fail-safe, just in case everyone’s powers returned. It gives them a ready-made army of superpowered young adults with massive grudges against their absentee parents.”

“How massive, do you think?”

“Well, before we left New Jersey, Landon said he’d had every intention of shooting Thatcher on the spot.”

“Crap.”

“Exactly. He obviously didn’t do it, but that anger and resentment doesn’t just go away. And Landon is powerful. We need him on our side, especially if we’re going to find out if Uncle has any other kids out there doing his dirty work.”

“He won’t help us if we turn them in for robbing those warehouses.”

“Right.”

Ethan heaved a mighty sigh, then ran his fingers through his already mussed red hair. “Why can’t our cases ever be simple? It’s always people possessing other people’s bodies, or fighting clones of our dead parents.”

“Simple is boring, Windy.”

“I would love a little boring. Bring on the boring.”

I laughed at the eager way he said that, grateful he’d managed to make me smile. “Thank you for coming after me.”

“Technically, I think you came after me.” His amusement disappeared, and he gave me a stern look. “Seriously, though, Renee, are you sure you’re all right? You know I can keep a secret if there’s anything you want to talk about.”

“I know that.” But the middle of the woods wasn’t the place to unload my personal pain on him, even if I wanted him to know it. “Rain check?”

“Okay.”

Ethan seemed to have his sense of direction finely tuned, so I let him lead us back to town. “Does Teresa know where you are?” he asked after a few minutes of walking.

“Not exactly. She knows we met Landon in New Jersey, but Landon blindfolded us before he brought us here. I’m not even sure what state we’re in.”

“Pennsylvania.”

“How do you know?”

He gave me a sideways grin. “License plates on the cars.”

The answer was so obvious I actually started laughing. “Guess Landon isn’t as smart as he thinks he is. But I do need to talk to Teresa as soon as possible, to make sure she holds off on giving Landon’s and Bethany’s names to the authorities.”

“Agreed.”

“What if she’s already turned their names over, though?”

“I doubt it. If Teresa believes you’re looking into a legitimate lead, she’ll wait until you report back.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Ditto.”

Because if he was wrong, then we’d just played right into Uncle’s hand. And I’d be damned if I got hustled by the house one round in. This little game was far from over.

Ten

Positional Awareness

T
en minutes later we emerged from the woods up the road from the platform. I avoided looking at it, too disgusted by its existence to risk another meltdown. Ethan headed for another wooden shack, this one slightly newer than the buildings in town. It was squat and square, more like a shed than a house, with only one window. The front door swung open and Thatcher stepped out into the sunlight, not even hiding his relief.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he came forward. For a split second I thought he might hug me.

“Just needed some air,” I said.

“And a run through the woods?” He gave my scratched forehead a pointed look.

“Well, I was sitting in a car for hours on end. It felt like a good time for some exercise.”

Thatcher scowled, then asked Ethan, “Is she ever serious?”

“Not when her guard is up.”

“Hey,” I said, poking Ethan in the arm. “Shut it, Wind Bag.”

“Was it that platform?” Thatcher asked me.

The short hairs on the back of my neck prickled. “It just dragged up some old shit, but I’m fine now. We need to talk about that.” I pointed at Ethan’s collar.

Thatcher looked at the collar like he hadn’t noticed it before. He touched his own throat, tracing the faint scar from the security collar he’d worn for fifteen years as a resident of Manhattan Island Prison. “Where did that come from?”

“Bethany put it on me,” Ethan replied.

“What? How did she get one?”

“That’s what we’d like to know,” I said. “How did an eighteen-year-old thief get her paws on a piece of technology used by both our federal government and a bunch of whack-job Recombinant clones?”

Thatcher blanched. “Clones?”

Crap, we hadn’t told him about that part of our adventures before and during last month’s earthquake. Only a select few in our entire HQ knew about the twenty-year-old clones of our dead relatives and friends: two mothers, two fathers, and a brother, complete with their original superpowers. The clone of Ethan’s mother was killed during our final encounter with them, and we hadn’t heard a peep from the other clones since.

Their silence made all of us incredibly nervous.

“I’ll tell you about them later,” I said. “The long and short of it is that either the government is funding the Recombinant experiments, or someone is playing for both teams.”

“Playing for both teams?” a familiar female voice asked. “Someone looking for me?”

Bethany Crow waltzed out of the shack, her short, unnaturally red hair spiked up like a porcupine, back in the same ripped jeans and layered tanks as that first night. She gave me a long, appraising look from head to toe and her singsong comment made more sense.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re not my type, sister.”

“Shame.” She winked as she slunk forward, like a cat wanting to rub up against someone’s ankle. “Blue’s my favorite color.”

“Sorry, but I like dick.”

Thatcher made a choking noise. Ethan snickered.

“Me, too, honey,” Bethany said with a saucy come-hither grin I’d perfected back in my Vegas days. “But not all the time. Variety is the spice of life.”

“Too much spice can give you the runs.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“A bad case of the clap?”

Ethan turned away, his face bright red from trying not to laugh out loud. Thatcher’s eyebrows were arched so high they threatened to jump right off his face. Bethany stared at me for a moment before dissolving into giggles.

Legit giggles, in a pitch so high that my own vocal range was a little jealous. “Oh, my God, I love her.” Bethany looked over her shoulder at the open shack door. “Bro, why didn’t we kidnap her instead? She’s totally cooler than Captain Grumpy-Puss over there.”

“I’d wager Ethan was pretty calm with you, considering that most folks object to being kidnapped,” I retorted. “Or were you expecting him to entertain you?”

“Well, I was hoping we could entertain each other, since we had all night, but he’s taken, or so he insists. Is he really?”

What were we? Teenage girls at a sleepover? “Yep, he is taken. And his boyfriend’s pretty damn cute, too.”

Bethany’s face fell, then immediately brightened up again. She gave Ethan a hopeful smile. “You two ever consider a threesome?”

“Enough!” Thatcher said, with enough force to make all three of us jump. He took a few steps closer to Bethany, dwarfing her slight size with his much taller, bulkier frame. “Where did you get the collar that you put on Ethan?”

She wasn’t the slightest bit cowed. She planted her hands on her hips and craned her neck to stare back up at him. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“From the man you call Uncle, the one who raised you.”

“Give the man a teddy bear.” She clapped her hands in mock applause. “So what?”

“I wore a collar like this for fifteen years. It was almost identical, so I have to wonder where this Uncle of yours acquired technology that’s under a federal patent.”

“How would I know? Landon and I don’t ask questions. Uncle gave us two collars in case we ever needed to restrain other Metas, and let me tell you, they’ve been useful.”

Ethan harrumphed.

“Bethany, are there any other kids like you and Landon?” I asked. “Raised by Uncle?”

She shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care. Landon and I take care of each other. We don’t need anyone else. And you can save your breath asking, too, because neither one of us would ever sell out Uncle. He saved us.”

“Because your biological mom was an evil, child-murdering monster, right? Like Thatcher over there is an evil, child-murdering monster?”

“Basically.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“About what?”

“Everything, but we’ll start with your parents. You’ve heard of Specter, right? Psychotic telepath who can take over your body from a distance and kill you with his brain?”

“Of course I’ve heard of him.” Bethany tossed me a look that clearly said I was an idiot. “He led the Banes.”

“Oh, I’m sure he led some of them. The rest he threatened to kill unless they fought on his side.”

“Bullshit.”

Landon appeared in the shack’s doorway. He leaned there, listening, out of Bethany’s line of sight. Likewise, Ethan and Thatcher were somewhere behind me, and I’d bet Ethan’s eyes were bugging out of his head as he listened to me defending the Banes. I half expected to be struck by lightning.

I jacked my thumb over my shoulder. “Thatcher didn’t have a choice about following Specter, but he did have a choice to hide his wife and son so Specter couldn’t hurt them. Your mother probably gave you up for the same reason.”

I was reaching with that last comment, but it was a logical deduction. Alice Stiles could have ended her pregnancy, but she didn’t. She disappeared during the War to give birth, then gave the baby to the biological father. Daddy Dearest may have dumped Bethany in an orphanage, but that was on him.

“You must be really desperate,” Bethany said with a snarl. “You should have chosen better lies.”

“What if they’re not lying?” Landon said.

Bethany spun around, startled. “Don’t tell me you’re buying this. They’re trying to manipulate you.”

“It’s the truth,” Thatcher said. “I swear on your life and mine, Landon, that it’s the truth. Once Specter found us, once he could sense our individual energies, there was no place on the planet we could hide from him for long.” He came forward, stopping next to me. Hurt and regret etched lines on his forehead and deepened the crinkles around his eyes. My hand jerked, as if to reach out and comfort him, and I froze.

Thatcher continued. “I was afraid of Specter, and I was too much of a coward to end my own life. So I went to war and I killed, and eventually I was punished for that. I regret so many things, but I don’t regret that I’m alive, because I got the chance to meet you, to see the man you’ve grown into. If you believe only one thing, please believe that I love you, son. Unconditionally.”

Landon’s face crumpled, then smoothed out as he caught himself. But I’d seen the first chink in his armor, and I bet Thatcher saw it, too. Landon was eighteen, raised to believe his father was some sort of scary monster, only to come face-to-face with a completely different kind of man.

And Landon wasn’t the only one seeing a new side to the Banes today, either, and that scared me. Scared me a lot.

“Dinner’s ready,” Landon said, as if his father had never spoken.

“Dinner?” I parroted.

“Yes, dinner,” Bethany said. “You know, that evening meal most of us like to have? Don’t worry, the food isn’t stolen or anything. I bought it on the way here.”

I rolled my eyes. The five of us went inside the shack, which was as comfortably furnished as I expected—which was to say,
not
. A folding table and chairs were set up in the middle of the room. Two inflated air mattresses stood up against the far wall, their linens stacked neatly on top of a wooden crate. A little gas camping stove was set up on another crate, next to a few bags of groceries and a cooler.

“We don’t stay here often,” Landon said, “but when we do, they wanted us to have privacy.”

“So Bethany’s libido doesn’t disturb the neighbors?” I asked.

My comment wasn’t meant to be remotely serious, but the way Landon’s cheeks flushed as he looked away made me think I’d hit close to home.

An awkward silence ensued.

“So what’s for dinner?” Ethan asked, jumping in to play peacemaker, as usual.

“Canned stew,” Landon replied. He ladled some chunky brown goop into a Styrofoam bowl, then held it out to Thatcher. “Spoons are on the table.”

Landon continued dishing up the stew. We settled around the table, but he didn’t sit with the rest of us. He ate standing near the camping stove, his face perfectly neutral. I choked down the salty stew, grateful for the meal since I hadn’t eaten the night before. I washed it down with water from a plastic jug.

“There’s a clean spring nearby,” Bethany explained. “It’s one less thing the town needs brought in.”

“Speaking of which,” Landon said, “we should talk about what you’re going to do next.”

“In regards to what?” I asked.

“Us. Turning us in now that you’ve seen the people we help. That’s why I brought you here.”

“Well, first I need to call and talk to Trance.”

“About?”

“To let her know we three are alive and unharmed, as well as make sure she hasn’t reported you both yet.”

“And if she hasn’t?”

“I think you should both come back to New York and talk to her. Tell her what you’ve told us.”

“Fucking forget it,” Bethany said. “No way.”

“Why not?” Landon asked her.

“Are you insane? They’ll lock us up the minute they see us.”

“And if I promise that won’t happen?” I asked.

“No,” Bethany said.

“What if we bring Trance here?” Thatcher asked. “Let her see everything we’ve seen.”

“I think she would agree to that,” I said. “She’s a good person, and she’s fair. She’ll give you a chance to explain.”

“Even though we kidnapped Ethan?” Landon asked.

“Even so.”

He and Bethany shared a long look.

“Fine,” Bethany finally said. She reached into her layered tanks and produced a slim cell phone. “Put it on speaker and call her.”

I took the cell and powered it up. “Where should I tell her to meet you?”

“Tell her to get on the Pennsylvania turnpike heading west,” Landon said. “Pull off at the westbound service plaza in Elverson. I’ll meet her there at seven o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes, tomorrow.”

“And if she wants to bring someone with her?”

“Forget it,” Bethany said. “Just her.”

“Okeydokey.” I dialed the number and waited.

She picked up on the fourth ring. “Trance.”

“It’s Renee,” I said.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I’m with Ethan and Thatcher, and we’re all okay. No one’s hurt.”

“Where are you?”

“I honestly have no fucking idea. Landon blindfolded us.”

“Okay. Are you still with him?”

“Yes. We’re kind of his and Bethany’s, um, houseguests.”

“Houseguests? Is that a code I don’t understand?”

I smiled at the phone. “No. Listen, T, like I said, we’re fine. But I need to know if you passed along any details of our investigation to the interested authorities.”

“As in names?”

“Bingo.”

“No, I haven’t. I was waiting for word from you.”

Good girl.
“Don’t. Things are more complicated than we thought.”

She sighed. “Aren’t they always? What do you need?”

“You. They want to speak to you in person.”

“Done. When and where?” Someone on her end made a noise. My bet was that Gage was listening in and actively hated the idea.

I gave her the information. “Landon will meet you. Please trust him and come alone. I wouldn’t be asking if this wasn’t legit.”

“I know that, Renee. Do you guys need anything?”

I glanced down at my dirty uniform. “Clean clothes would be nice. And tell Aaron his boyfriend is safe and sound, not a scratch on him.”

“He’ll be happy to hear that. Is Ethan nearby?”

“I’m here,” Ethan said. No one told him he couldn’t talk during the call. “I’m fine, promise.”

“Good.” I could hear her smile through the relief in her voice. She worried about all of us so much.

Bethany made a slashing gesture across her throat.

“Listen, T, I gotta go. We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Be safe,” she said.

I shoved the phone back across the table at Bethany. “Happy?”

“Whatever,” Bethany said.

“So now that we’re giving you the benefit of the doubt,” Ethan said, “how about taking this collar off? It itches.”

“Forget it.”

“Why not?”

“Because the minute it’s off, what’s to stop all three of you from making tracks out of town and then sending in the cops to ruin everything?”

“We won’t do that,” I said. “You have my word.”

“Beth, maybe we—” Landon started to say.

“No!” She stood up too fast and her chair toppled over backward. “I am putting my foot down on this one, Landon. The collar stays on.” She glared at the three of us. “And don’t even think about stealing the key, because I’ve already warped it, and I’m the only one who can bend it back into shape.”