Psion Omega (Psion series Book 5) (34 page)

BOOK: Psion Omega (Psion series Book 5)
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When Sammy went to
wake Jeffie early the morning of the next day, he paused before shaking her.
Despite the grime and sweat and stench on her, Sammy noted how beautiful she
was. He touched her cheek and ran his fingertips along her jawline. Vitoria lay
next to Jeffie and watched Sammy with fresh tears running down her face, but
closed her eyes when their gazes met. Her arms and legs were still bound.

“I’m sorry we had
to do that,” Sammy told her. “I’m sorry for everything you’ve had to go
through.”

Vitoria didn’t move
and her eyes stayed closed.

“If I give you some
time to stretch your muscles, do you promise not to run?”

Vitoria squirmed
and nodded.

Releasing her
ankles first, Sammy helped her to her feet, his hand still clasped around her
wrist restraints. He walked her away from Jeffie, away from the drilling site,
into the darkness of the sewers. “You look tired,” he said.

“So do you. I woke
up almost screaming every half hour from muscle cramps. What’s your excuse?”

“I’m sorry, Vivi,”
he said, hurrying to release her hands. “I didn’t mean to—”

When the bonds
around her wrists fell away, her body tensed up as though she wanted to run.
Sammy, in turn, tensed up too. “I’m not going to chase you.”

She stared at him.
“Yes you will.” And she took off.

Sammy swore.
“Jeffie, get up!”

Jeffie’s eyes
opened.

“Vitoria ran!”

Sammy sprinted
after Vitoria. Despite his larger size, longer legs, and greater strength, he
did not have her Anomaly Fifteen. By the time he reached the ladder to the streets
of Rio and blasted up through the sewer hole, Vitoria was already thirty meters
down the road. Thankfully it was still such an early hour that the streets were
nearly bare. Sammy called her name as he ran.

Vitoria peered over
her shoulder and kept running. Sammy chased her to a park. When he reached her,
she was on a swing, pumping her legs, arcing high into the air and back down.
No smile adorned Vitoria’s face, but there was something different: a look of
freedom or some small measure of peace. Each swing made her hair fan out behind
her. Her eyes locked onto his and they watched each other for a while. Sammy
felt in his soul that in a different world, a different life, he could have
feelings for her like he had for Jeffie. She was beautiful and strong and real,
despite being deconstructed and reassembled by the CAG.

Sammy took the
swing next to her and swung lightly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d
sat on one. It might have been ten years or even a lifetime ago. “We’re not
going to reach the mark in time without your help,” he finally said. “And if we
do, it will be from working night and day, wearing ourselves out. We won’t have
anything left for the last stage …”

“I know.” Her eyes
had taken on that lifeless, dull quality again. Her face was stone.

“But?”

“If I help you, I
lose you.”

“You’ll be alive.
And free. And we’ll have all but won the war.”

“You love Jeffie,
right?” Vitoria asked.

“You’re not going
down there with us. It’s me and Jeffie.”

“Because you love
her.” Vitoria spat the words.

“I—”

“Don’t know,” she
finished for him. “How can you not know?”

“I don’t know.” He
gave her a tight grin. “To love someone is a really huge thing. It means a lot.
I can’t just say I love someone when I don’t know.”

Vitoria rolled her
eyes. “Whatever. You love her. Still … you’d rather die with her and miss out
on growing old together just so you can win? What if the NWG becomes just like
the problem you’re fighting?”

“Then other people
will rise up to do what needs to be done.”

“I don’t deserve to
live. Jeffie does. You both do.”

“What makes you say
that?” The question hadn’t come from Sammy, but Jeffie, who was only a few
steps away. Both Sammy and Vitoria turned at the sound of her voice. She took
the swing on the opposite side of Vitoria. “I’m no better than you, Vivi.”

“Yes you are. The
things I’ve done …”

“You know better,”
Jeffie said. “We don’t have to keep telling you that they aren’t your fault.”

“Who will I have
when you two are gone?” Toad’s sister asked meekly.

Jeffie’s voice
cracked. “You’ll have your life. Do with it what you want.”

“Vitoria …” Sammy
said. “
Please
. We can’t do this
without you.”

Both Sammy and
Jeffie watched her, waiting. Vitoria sighed, her eyes on the ground. The sun
was just beginning to peek over the horizon, splashing reds and golds into the
sky on a palette of stray clouds. A hot breeze blew the girls’ hair and made
the strands dance around their heads. Jeffie looked over at Sammy, indicating
with her eyes that it was time to return to the sewers.

“Vitoria?” Sammy repeated.

She nodded. “All
right. I’ll go back.”

Progress on the
hole picked up the third day. They worked from morning to evening, finally
within centimeters of breaching the foundation’s service tunnels. Sammy and
Jeffie stopped the drills and walked the long distance up the tunnel. When
Vitoria saw them, she shut off the pump.

“Stopping point?”
she asked.

Sammy nodded. They
would not drill any deeper until early the next day. Instinctively, Sammy
checked the time on his watch, it was nearly evening. “I’m hungry. You pick
where we eat, Jeffie.”

What he had meant
as an act of kindness transformed into a moment of solemnity. Jeffie knew why
he had offered her the choice: it would be their last meal. She shook her head.
“You decide.”

“I don’t care. I
want you to choose.”

Jeffie was not
going to budge. So, they both turned to Vitoria. “Is there anything you want?”

Based on Vitoria’s
recommendation, the three ended up eating at a pizza-tilla, which served hybrid
Italian/Mexican food that neither Jeffie nor Sammy particularly cared for, but
Vitoria devoured. For dessert, they ordered three bowls of fried ice cream.

Sammy hadn’t taken
more than five bites of dessert when through the street-side window of the
restaurant he saw three men heading down into the sewers. They wore jackets
similar to the one the man asking for Sammy’s permit had worn, but their
cautious behavior—and the large, bulky duffel bag one of them
toted—told him these weren’t city employees.

“Check it out,” he
said, directing Jeffie and Vivi’s attention to what he saw.

“Aegis,” Vitoria
said.

“Let’s go,” Jeffie
added.

Vitoria jumped out
of her seat, but Sammy grabbed her by the arm. “Are you going to stay in
control? Follow orders?”

“I’ll do what I was
trained to do. Aegis killed my family.” Vitoria spun and grabbed his syshée
from its concealed holster, but before Sammy could react, she was running for
the exit. Sammy got up so fast he toppled the table, spilled ice cream in two
directions, and drove the corner of the wood hard into Jeffie’s knee. Jeffie
limped out the door behind him, running as best as she could.

“Vitoria, stop!”
Sammy shouted.

She didn’t.
Instead, she jumped feet first into the sewer hole. Seconds later, Sammy heard
gunfire. Blasts ready, he followed. It was much darker below the street level,
and it took time for his eyes to adjust. “Get behind me!” Sammy shouted to
Vitoria. But he was too late. She had already killed all three Aegis, each with
a shot to the head. Jeffie dropped in behind Sammy, panting, hissing, and
grabbing her knee.

Vitoria walked up
to one of them and kicked him savagely in the head. “Coward called in for
backup,” she reported. “They know we’re here.”

 
 

 
21.
Broken
 
 

Sunday, June 1, 2053

 

KATIE HID IN the hotel bathroom,
huddled in the corner next to the toilet until her mother came and got her. She
didn’t speak, she just sobbed in the back seat. Her mother cried too. The drive
home lasted an eternity, and when they finally pulled into the driveway, Katie
pushed past her parents, stumbled up the steps clutching her stomach, and
locked her bedroom door. Sleep finally came hours later. Her dreams were
macabre scenes of carnage and mayhem. Gruesome acts of violence filled her mind
and played out in visions no one could see or hear but her. They were vivid
down to the scent of the blood and the sounds of flesh bending to blades. She
woke exhausted.

By mid-afternoon
the next day her mother and father were begging her to open the door, but Katie
didn’t answer until they threatened to break it down. “Leave me alone,” Katie
finally pleaded.

Perhaps relieved
that she was even speaking, her parents stopped bothering her. Katie stayed in
her bed all day and stared out the window. The thought of going to school on Monday
made her nauseous. And the only thing that made the sickness better were the
visions of violence she saw in her mind’s eye. The gore and death stirred
something in her soul, something exciting and dangerous.

She rolled out of
bed and grabbed her yearbook. Flipping through the pages, she studied the
pictures, the faces. Then she closed her eyes to remember which ones had mocked
her, and circled them in red marker. Katie repeated the process until she had
singled out over two dozen students. A sudden wave of revulsion hit her, and
she ran over to her trashcan and threw up.

What is wrong with me? Killing people?
She threw the yearbook away and crawled back into bed, tears flowing once more.
This isn’t normal
.

That night, hungry
and a little cabin-feverish, Katie left her room. Her mom was sitting on the
floor facing the bedroom door, her back against the wall. Katie’s mother lifted
her head from her arms when she heard the door open.

“Honey …” she said,
standing and pulling Katie into a hug. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” Her mother
had streaks of makeup on her face. Her red eyes and mussed hair told Katie she
hadn’t slept. “I hurt for you. Your father is meeting with the principal
tomorrow. If you don’t want to go back, we’ll push for your transfer.”

“You think word
won’t spread, Mom? You think kids at other schools won’t know? It’s probably
all over the city!”

“You’re the prom
queen, sweetie. That means you still have a lot of people who like you.”

Again the image of
Katie’s fellow students flashed in her mind. Dead, decapitated, bleeding,
gutted, mashed and bashed … she pushed the vision away and hugged her mother
tighter. “I need to think about it.” Then she added, “What about Priyanka?”

“She didn’t do it,”
her mom answered. “Mark did. He used a laser knife like the one I bought.”

“Priyanka hugged me
right before I went up to be crowned.”

“Mark admitted to
it, sweetie.”

A wave of hate hit
Katie so hard that she started to imagine various and painful ways to kill
Mark. “She had to put him up to saying that,” Katie said. “She
had
to.”

“Whether or not
that’s true doesn’t matter. Mark confessed and was expelled. But listen, the
school wants to know by tomorrow if you’re going to transfer so they can get
your files from your teachers.”

Katie didn’t know
what to say. She didn’t want to go to a new school, and she didn’t want to go
back to her school either. “Can I please just have some more time?”

Katie’s mother
regarded her with love and pity. “Sure, honey. I’ll talk to them and let them
know what you need.”

Her parents stuck
by her, carefully and patiently boosting her confidence whenever she started to
feel depressed again. Courtney and Vivian came by on Tuesday and Wednesday to
cheer her up.

“Priyanka did it,”
Courtney confirmed. “I saw it—”

“We tried to stop you,”
Vivian added, “but Bobby John was blocking us from getting to you. And
everybody was cheering so loud you didn’t hear us.”

“But why did Mark
get the blame?” Katie asked tearfully. “Why wasn’t Priyanka expelled?”

“Priyanka.”
Courtney practically spat the word. “You won’t believe what she promised him to
get him to cover for her.
She’s
the
slut. We gave our story to Principal Simpson, she and Mark gave theirs. It was
our word against theirs, so Simpson gave Priyanka a one week suspension.”

That’s not nearly good enough
, Katie thought
bitterly.
She deserves …

Death.

Bobby John and his
parents stopped by on Thursday. Bobby John hugged Katie so hard she thought she
might break in half. “Bobby John loves Katie,” he repeated at least twenty
times.

Katie smiled for
the first time since prom. After Bobby John’s family left the house, Katie
approached her mother. “Are you feeling better, sweetie?”

“A little.”

“I’m so proud of
how you’ve handled this. I know I’ve said it before, but seeing how great you
turned out, I wish we could have had more kids just like you.”

Katie tried to hide
her grimace by smiling. “Mom, I need to tell you something, but I’m afraid it’s
going to freak you out.”

Katie’s mom raised
her eyebrows and sat up a little straighter. “Oh?”

“I—” Katie’s
mouth went dry as she imagined herself telling her mother about the dark
dreams, gruesome visions, and bedwetting.

Tell her. She’s your mother. She’ll love you and want to help
you.

She won’t understand. Neither will your father. You’re the only
child. You’re supposed to be perfect. They’ll send you to a doctor who will put
you on medication
.

You need help.

They’ll think you’re a freak for the rest of your life.

Katie made up her
mind. “I actually think everything is going to be fine.” Even as she said the
words, a gnawing sickness in her gut told her she’d made the wrong choice.

Her mother relaxed
and smiled with tears in her eyes. “See?” She rubbed Katie’s shoulder
affectionately. “You just amaze me.”

That night Katie
returned to the cave. As she descended the steps her body tingled with
anticipation, not fear. The dark was an old friend, not a blanket of mystery
and dread. Her senses seemed more acute than during previous trips. The cold
froze her skin. The smell of something foul and rank now stung her nostrils.
Strangely enough, however, none of it bothered her. When she reached the door,
she felt it pulsing, a reverberation through her body. Her heartbeat fell in
step with its throbs.

A faint light
emanated from under the door, giving enough illumination that once her eyes
adjusted she could see how the door had a deep red color that reminded her of
blackened blood. It twitched and rippled ever so gently with each beat of her
heart. When she finally reached out and touched it with her fingertips, the surface
quivered, and she jerked her hand away.

It wasn’t made of
wood. Nor metal. The texture of it reminded her of flesh. She reached for the
knob but found nothing. With both hands she searched and pulled and pushed and
even heaved her weight into the door, but despite its pliable nature it would
not open. She tried the knife in the juncture of the door and its stone frame,
but it stubbornly refused to yield. In her frustration she stabbed the door
with the blade, and the dagger sank in with ease. Black hot liquid spurted out
from the wound, searing her skin with an intensity that made her scream. She
jerked the knife down and lengthened the wound, causing more vile fluid to gush
out onto her hands and wrists. Then, with one final jerk, she rammed her shoulder
into the door and came through on the other side, clean and whole, but
knifeless.

The room was
sweltering, the scent of death so strong that Katie gagged and heaved, but did
not vomit. The smell came from her right where logs burned in a small fireplace,
glowing in flames of black and red and white. A perfect and unblemished white
pot hung above the flames on a hook, its lid bouncing merrily as thick black
steam trickled out from underneath and quickly vanished. The floor shone slick
and cold. A moan came from Katie’s left, on the other side of the room where
stones had been stacked waist high and a giant slab of rock laid on top formed
a crude altar. A figure in shadow writhed on it, hands chained in irons of
black and silver. When Katie took a step in her direction, the figure stopped
moving.

“Hello?” The
question was muffled.

The blaze of the
fire provided scant illumination, leaving the room in a gray haze. She quietly
stepped over to the figure and saw that it was a young woman in a white gown. A
black hood covered her head.

“Please,” she said.
“Don’t hurt me.”

Something about the
scene sent a tingle through Katie’s arms, legs, and chest. When she stopped
next to the altar, she stared at the hood and licked her lips.

Freedom. Take it from her
.

“Who are you?”
Katie asked. Her voice croaked from the long trek down the steps and the sudden
dryness in her throat.

“Please help me.”

Katie knew what she
would find when she removed the hood: Priyanka. She held her breath as she
yanked the cloth off her head, and almost screamed when she did. It was not
Priyanka. It was herself. The two Katies stared at each other, stunned and
silent.

Take it from her. Take your freedom!

“How?” Katie asked
aloud.

You already know
.

Katie glanced around the room for something to use.
She tried to pry a rock out from under the altar, but they were cemented in
place. Next she tried the fireplace. The logs crackled and glowed. She reached
into the blaze and braced herself for the blistering heat, but the flames only
tingled her skin like static and sent chills of energy up her arm. Even the
logs wouldn’t budge. Katie opened the lid to the white pot and a plume of black
smoke rose from within. When it cleared away she saw a heart beating on the
bottom of the otherwise empty cauldron, huge and swollen, pumping in a steady
rhythm.

Katie snatched it from the pot. The huge muscle
filled her hand, still beating. But each step she took toward the altar, the
pulsing grew wilder until it twitched and thumped so fast that Katie could
hardly keep a hand on it.

The copy of herself on the altar stared at the heart
in Katie’s hand, uncomprehending. “Please. Please, don’t.”

Katie raised it high above her head, closed her
eyes, and brought it down as hard she could on the other girl’s face. Over and
over and over and over. Black and red fluid splattered the altar, the floor,
the walls, Katie’s face. When she looked down again at the stone, the girl was
gone. Nothing remained but crushed pieces of the fleshy heart.

You are free
.

A sense of power filled her body and transformed her
soul. She was apart from the world now. She could sense that.

Katie turned to leave the cave, but the door had
sealed shut behind her. She put her shoulder against it and pushed with all her
strength but it would not yield. No matter how hard she beat on it, clawed at
it, even ran at it, it held fast. Finally Katie gave up and fell to her knees
laughing as tears ran down her face. Even as her laughter turned to screams,
power continued to infuse her.

Back in her bed, Katie woke dry as bone. Dashing out
of bed, she examined herself in the mirror. She felt so different, yet nothing
had changed.

“Katie!” her mother called from the kitchen. “Get
ready for school or you’ll miss first period again!”

“Come on, Queen,” her father added. “Listen to your
mom.”

Katie stayed at her mirror, grinning widely.

I’m free.

She glanced at the calendar.
Friday the Thirteenth
.
Today
is going to be a special day.

 

* * * * *

 

Sunday,
November 9, 2087

 

Brickert and Natalia sat in a parked
car in downtown D.C. sipping coffee from thermoses at 0400. Brickert rubbed his
eyes and put the binoculars back to his face. A team of workers were putting up
a fence and pouring concrete to create a barricade of steel and stone. Aegis
supervised the workers, directed the foreman, and oversaw the placement of
tanks and other armored vehicles. The longer Brickert watched, the more nervous
he became.

“What do you see,
Brickert?” Justice asked from the back seat.

“Just a second,”
Brickert answered. “You got anything to report?” he asked Natalia, who scanned
the skies with her own pair of scopes. If anyone could spot people in hard to
see places, it was Brickert’s girlfriend.

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