Authors: Christine Fonseca
“Better. You must learn to face any challenge without losing control of your feelings. Doubt has no place in your mind—doubt about your mission, your training. Doubt regarding the Order. Me. When you can control this, then you will be ready for the task ahead.” The Creator motioned for Seven to sit.
Seven nodded. His muscles trembled as he plopped onto the grass. Memories swirled to life in his mind. Thoughts of the fire and the compound, as well as images of the girl who’d escaped. The pictures flooded forward and slowed. Seven noted every detail of the girl’s face: the depth of her golden eyes, the color of her tan complexion, and the angles of her cheekbones. He recalled her voice and her hesitation. The Assassin had been scared that night, unsure of her abilities.
Why hadn’t I noticed that before?
“You can defeat any opponent.”
“Yes, Master.” Seven’s anger grew as he noticed every weakness and flaw in the girl. She didn’t have his skill. He should’ve beaten her that night.
“You can beat her, yes. But don’t be fooled by her lack of confidence. Her talent exceeds anything you have faced. She is deadly, with or without training.”
“Am I to go after her then? Kill her?” Seven hoped for the chance to fix his past mistake and prove to the Order and the Creator how far his skills had matured.
“You are to track her. Monitor her. I must know if she is training and who is with her.”
Seven expelled a deep sigh. He didn’t want to babysit the Assassin. He wanted to prove himself.
“You understand your assignment, its importance.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, Master. I will take care of it.”
The Creator turned and walked away from Seven just as all thoughts of the girl subsided. He reached for the memories of her face, holding onto each image. He wouldn’t let his master down. Not again.
Seven closed his eyes and focused on the task, silently fuming. A loud bang boomed through the recesses of his mind, followed by a rapid series of images. The girl and the boy. Fire burning all around him. Faint pictures of a childhood he never knew. Emotions followed; sadness, pain and bitter betrayal. The images continued as a fire began to eclipse his thoughts.
More pain, betrayal. And white-hot rage.
The emotions consumed the images, leaving nothing but a picture of the Assassin burned into his mind. Seven wanted to find her. Hurt her.
Kill her.
The Creator’s voice whispered through his mind, fusing to the image still etched in his thoughts. “Yes, Seven. She is the cause of your pain. She is the reason you suffer.”
Seven stood and walked back to his quarters, the voice of his Master still echoing through his head.
The Solomon Experiments 3.0
The Order
Dr. Benjamin LeMercier’s Personal Journal -
January 28, 2015:
Things are not going as planned. The Order isn’t who I thought they were—they want too much involvement in my experiments, too much control over the outcome, over me. More than once they’ve expressed their distrust. Today’s meeting was the worst yet. They accused me of lying to them about the Assassin. My Assassin. They don’t share my vision for her potential involvement. They doubt she can be rehabilitated.
I don’t care what they want or what they think. It isn’t for them to determine the fate of my experiments. They are financial backers and nothing more.
I only need to hold their trust a little longer.
The Architect will not fail me. She wants acceptance too much, longs for positioning with the Order. She will return with the Assassin. She knows exactly what will happen if she fails.
As for the Assassin, her place is by my side. Christyn may have damaged her mind and blocked the memories of her true nature. But it will not last forever. I can make the Assassin find her true place, make her remember where she belongs.
The Assassin will come home. She will remember who she is and then the Order will understand. I am not wrong. She is still the key to everything. If the Order threatens to get in the way, if their plans continue to derail my own, I will execute a new plan. One that ensures the success of the experiments above everything else.
Such contingencies have always been necessary. I had them in place with Project Stargate. I planned for every problem with the first Solomon Experiments. Now it is time to protect this new project.
The Architect will help. She can obtain the information I need, anticipate the Order’s moves. But only if they are weak, distracted. I need them to grow too comfortable, believe they rule over my decisions. They must see me as subservient, afraid to lose their funding. They must find me weak enough to believe their idle threats.
It is a fiction I must create.
So I will submit, comply with their demands and lure them into false thinking. Anything to ensure the success of the experiments. I’ve come too far to fail now. I will play my part and convince the Order that I serve them.
At least, for now.
We’re home before I expect, the house as quiet and peaceful as when we left. David mumbles to the Hawaiians who gave us a ride, thanking them. His words float meaninglessly on the air around me. I stare at the quiet house, still afraid, still uneasy. Wind carries the scent of tropical flowers as birds continue to sing into the night. I grab the railing that leads to the porch, praying my knees don’t give out. The ground beneath me begins to shake and my body weakens. “David,” I whisper moments before my vision blurs and turns to black.
I wake to the feel of steady hands against my back and legs. Within moments, my body settles into a soft mattress, my bed. “What happened?” I ask as I try to push myself up.
“Shh. Don’t try to move. You fainted on the porch.”
“Fainted?” Images flood my thoughts—David’s promise, bullets whizzing past, LeMercier in my thoughts. Again I attempt to sit upright and again David refuses to let me move.
“You’re safe, Dakota. Just relax. You’re safe.”
More memories pour forward. The sound of the gunmen’s rifles and the screams that ended their lives.
All because of me.
“No one is looking for us here. We’re safe for now. You need to get some rest.”
Safe? I doubt it. LeMercier will send more assassins. Or worse, he’ll come himself.
“Just rest tonight,” David says, knowing my thoughts, my fears, as he always does. “We’ll figure out a plan in the morning and leave.”
My brow furrows in fear.
“I won’t let anyone get to you.”
“You can’t protect me now. He knows where we are and he knows I am using my abilities. He won’t stop until he finds me.”
“We’ll leave tomorrow.” David covers my hands with his. He meets my gaze, his eyes like steel. “But we can’t just stay on the run. I won’t let us live that way. We have to go somewhere where you can get stronger with your skills, learn to block attacks better and shield your thoughts.”
“What? You want me to use my skills more? Are you crazy?” The words spill from my mouth like accusations. “Didn’t you see what I did? I killed those men with only a thought. I confirmed to LeMercier that we’re here. I’m never using those skills again. Not ever.”
“That hasn’t worked for you yet. Your instincts are too strong. You will always—”
“What? Kill people?” More accusations fuse my thoughts, more anger.
“I was going to say protect yourself.” David leans closer, his hands tightening around mine. “Your gifts are part of you. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can learn to control them.”
I pull away, untangle myself from the bed sheets and walk in to the other room.
“Dakota,” David calls out.
“I just need some air.”
I walk onto the porch, every instinct in me screaming to run as far and as fast as I can. David’s ring burns into my skin, along with the promises he made. I never told him my answer, never said I would do anything to live a normal life with him. My fingers worry the small band, rubbing against the cool metal.
“Dakota,” David whispers into my neck.
My body shivers in response.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. Please come back inside. You need your rest.” His words are barely more than a whisper. His arms wrap around my waist.
“I’m not upset because of you.” I turn to face him, his eyes reflecting the feelings I can never seem to be able to say aloud. “It’s just LeMercier, the experiments, everything. I don’t want this life—being on the run, fearing that we will die any minute.” My vision blurs as water fills my eyes and spills onto my cheeks. “I want a normal life with you, away from this. Can’t we have normal?”
David pulls me to him and covers my mouth with a kiss before I can refuse. He steals away my fears with each passing heartbeat, chasing away the other thoughts.
The kiss ends and David leads me back into the house and to our room. We crawl into bed and he wraps me in a blanket of safety, his body keeping the bad guys away, at least for tonight.
“You’re safe,” he whispers between kisses. “I promise.”
I believe the lie and accept the fantasy of a normal life . . .
For tonight.
The dream comes fast tonight. Too fast. The same tight feeling in my chest, as though all of the oxygen has been taken out of the room. The same hard wood enclosing me. The same thud as dirt covers the box I’m in and buries me alive. I bolt upright, my eyes open wide.
David stirs, his hands grabbing for mine. “It’s okay,” he mumbles, not fully awake. “You’re safe. We’re both safe.” He coaxes me down and snuggles next to me, his arms covering me in warmth and safety. “I love you,” he says as he drifts back into a deep sleep.
I drink in his embrace and everything it represents. I hold on to his words, willing them to be true. Within a few moments my mind calms and I drift back to sleep.
Only to find myself back in the box.
It’s only a dream
, I say in the recesses of my thoughts.
None of this is real.
Isn’t it? How can you be so sure?
My father’s voice fills my mind.
Go away,
I think. I force myself to think of David, his promise, our future. For a moment, the box begins to fade, replaced by images of David and me together and the feel of his body next to mine.
The constriction in my lungs eases. Until the images again darken and fade. The air grows heavy and stale. I hear the familiar sound of the dirt as it encloses me in my tomb.
You can’t escape me, Assassin
. The image of LeMercier surrounds my thoughts.
I know where you are. I’m coming for you.
I’m not your Assassin. Not anymore.
You killed the others without hesitation. You are everything I hoped you’d be. But I can still make you more powerful. Join me. Come home.
I will never join you
. My lungs constrict on the last word as the air grows more stale.
LeMercier’s face grows, his eyes dark and filled with rage.
Then you and everyone you hold dear will die, starting with David
.
My throat closes. My lungs scream for oxygen that does not exist. Panic seizes my thoughts. I jab my nails into my palms and try to wake myself from this nightmare. The sides of the box tighten around me. Darkness refuses to abate. My mind swirls, blurs . . .
Ends.