Reckoning (14 page)

S
even recoiled, shocked at the image
s
splaye
d
across his mind. “Bitch!” he screamed out loud as he threw the images back toward the Assassin.

“No,” ripped from her lips. Seven could hear the agony in her voice as her screams poured through the windows.

Fresh images formed in Seven’s thoughts, gripping his heart:

The Creator holding a young boy, no more than three years old. The boy looked pale and sickly. His hair was blond, his eyes a piercing blue. A younger version of Seven.

His master wiped tears away from the boy’s eyes, comforting him. “You’re safe,” his master repeated over and over. “Mother is near. You will be with her soon.”

More pictures tossed around Seven’s mind, pulling him deeper into a past he didn’t remember.

A woman cries as a baby yells.

Two older children take the baby into another room and crawl under a bed to hide.

“Shh,” the older boy says to the others. He rubs the baby’s back, coaxing him to stop crying. “He’s just mad. He’ll yell at Mom and then he’ll leave. Just like always.”

Seven stared at the baby in the vision. Same blond hair, same blue eyes. He looked at the other children and noted their similarities to him, with one exception. Where they were tan and looked healthy, the baby looked weak.

The vision spun forward and Seven watched the baby visualize his father’s death.

Anger exploded through Seven’s thoughts. More images bloomed through him:

The same woman drops the baby off at Social Services, crying as the baby screams.

The Creator takes the toddler away from a family, smiling as the child screams
.

Each picture inflicted more pain, more torment. Seven’s hands shook in response, his breath coming in short pants. Rage consumed him.

Lies!
he screamed.

Slamming the car into drive, Seven drove to the house. He raked the Assassin’s mind, extracting painful memories and fears from the deepest corners of her thoughts. He leapt up the porch steps in one fluid motion and crashed through the front door of the house.

The Assassin screamed, locked in the torment Seven caused. The Samurai lunged forward. Seven dodged and sent the Samurai reeling backwards.

“Stop!,” the Assassin yelled toward the Samurai. “Get Elaine and Mark out of here.” She grabbed her head and a piercing scream filled the room.

Seven lunged toward the Assassin. They crashed to the floor. The Samurai grabbed Seven, pulled him to his feet and away from his precious assassin.

I will kill you one day,
the Samurai said in Seven’s thoughts.

Until that day,
Seven said. He pounded his fist into the Samurai’s arm, covering the bandages with fresh blood.

The Samurai screamed.

The Assassin screamed.

Seven . . .

Smiled.

“David! Go find them,” the Assassin ordered the Samurai again, still clutching at her head with her hands.

The Samurai slammed into Seven and threw him across the room. Seven snarled. In his thoughts he searched for the others. He slammed visions into their thoughts, their nightmares come to life. Screams floated from the other room.

“David!” the Assassin screamed as the Samurai fled.

Seven rounded on the Assassin. “Just you and me now!” He drew back his fist and swung. The Assassin ducked under the punch and spun. Seven swung again, his fist colliding with her flesh. He assaulted her mind and her body, unleashing every ounce of torment she had inflicted on him.

She growled, her jaw clenched. More images floated into Seven’s mind.

The woman, the baby.

A family he never had
.

Seven smashed his hatred and his pain into the Assassin.

Her body crumbled.

Her mind . . .

Closed.

The Assassin’s eyes popped open, filled with fresh power. She jumped to her feet. “This ends now,” she growled.

Seven reached into her thoughts, finding only a cold shield. The Assassin drove her shoulder into Seven, forcing him backwards. Pictures of the baby and the woman bloomed through his mind. He wobbled and reached for the wall.

The Assassin continued her assault. “Get out!” she screamed. “Get out!”

Bring my assassin home.

Kill her.

The conflicting orders swirled in Seven’s thoughts and fused with the memory-like images of the younger version of himself. Confusion, rage and pain mixed in equal proportion. Seven stumbled.

Ran . . .

The Solomon Experiments 3.0

The Order

Dr. Benjamin LeMercier’s Personal Journal –

February 25, 2016:

I know where she is, where they all are. Finally. The Architect will bring them to me. The Order can’t stop her. Soon they will know the extent of my plan. They will understand that I can be trusted. The Assassin and Seven will join. They will be unstoppable.

And loyal only to me.

The Architect is concerned. She worries that the Assassin will not join us willingly. She may be right. But there’s more than one way to draw out her loyalty.

Seven grows stronger each day. His loyalty continues to be absolute. He is anxious to prove it, desperate for me to see him in the same standing as I view the Architect.

In truth, I see him as so much more.

I am not training the Architect to bond with the Assassin. I am not using the Architect to lead my army, to secure the future. These are roles reserved for my Assassin. And Seven.

He will learn this soon enough.

For now, I concentrate on the Architect and her role in the coming weeks. The Order may never appreciate the events that are coming. But when the world burns and my army is the only thing to protect us, they will see that I had no choice but to take action now.

Today.

See you soon, my Assassin.

See you soon . . .

T
oo many images splash against mind
.
Pictures of my mom, my brothers, a life I’ve forgotten. I struggle against the onslaught. Rage permeates my every cell. I want to hurt the recruit, kill him in ways I refuse to acknowledge out loud. My thoughts bend, twist. I chase after him, desperate to unleash the hellstorm living in my thoughts.

He escapes before I reach him, speeding down the twisted street.

“Ahh,” I scream.

David runs to me, stopping me before I can give chase. “Let me go,” I bark.

“No.” His arms pin me and I struggle against his hold. “Stop fighting me.”

My eyes blur. My minds fills with images of the recruit. I bulldoze into his thoughts, pulling images conjured from his nightmares. I feel his emptiness, his longing. Confusion—his confusion—merges with the unyielding pictures.

“Stop,” David says. “Stop!”

His voice means nothing as I continue to attack the recruit.

“Dakota!” David spins me to face him. “Stop!”

I look into his eyes and note the horror reflecting back at me. Before I can say anything bullets ring all around us. Elaine and Mark rush onto the porch.

“Watch out!,” I yell as more projectiles crackle and explode.

Elaine screams and Mark pulls her to the ground.

“The roof,” Mark says.

I raise my hands toward the unseen gunman. A scream and a thud.

One down.

David runs to the body as more bullets split the night. Retrieving the man’s Glock, David spins, shoots. Another scream. Another thud. He aims at the last man crouched around the corner of the house.

Before he can fire the shot, I sweep my hand from left to right. The gunman collides with the garage with a heavy thud. He falls to the ground, blood pooling around his skull.

David’s gaze meets mine. He raises an eyebrow and nods.

“What?” I ask.

“Someone’s been practicing, I think.” David’s smile calms my thoughts.

“Nice shot,” Mark says to David as he pulls Elaine to her feet. “That didn’t go exactly as planned.”

Not even close.

“What do we do now?” Elaine asks, her voice shaking.

Shame coats my tongue. I never should have let her and Mark stay. They don’t deserve any of this.

Stop bashing yourself,
David says, knowing every thought.
There was no way you could’ve gotten them to leave.

He’s right. But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop feeling guilty.

“I guess we need a better plan,” I say as we walk inside.

The sun casts long shadows across the floor of Elaine’s living room. Broken furniture—a table and two bookcases—litters the floor.

“Sorry about the mess.” I pick up several books and stack them against the wall.

Elaine’s face is ashen. “This scares me,” she says. Her voice quivers on the last word.

“What scares you?” Mark takes her hand in his.

“This.” Elaine waves her hand to indicate the room. “Everything. I don’t understand it. How can anyone do what he did?”

Mark pulls her into an embrace. “It’s okay, babe. We’ll be okay.”

I replay the images the recruit had placed in Elaine’s mind. Fresh anger rises through me. Now I understand the fear etched in Elaine’s features. It’s the same feeling I had when I freaked out at the coffee shop. I close my eyes and push calming thoughts into my best friend. I may not be able to take away the torture the recruit inflicted, but I can sure lessen it.

Elaine’s body relaxes against Mark. He whispers into her ear and her face calms.

“Thank you,” Mark mouths at me. If I didn’t know better I’d think he had gifts of his own. How else can he explain the extent of his knowledge about this world?

I continue to stack the books against the wall, careful to avoid the broken glass frames and splintered wood scattered across the floor. My mind drifts back to the recruit and the images I saw in his mind. One by one, each scene replays in excruciating detail. The woman who looked so much like Mom. The younger versions of Josh and me. The baby—my brother Liam.

I focus on his face, noting the similarities of his features to mine. Same angled face and full eyes. Same hair color. Liam’s eyes were like Josh’s. And the recruit’s. My mind matches the baby’s features to the recruit’s. There is no doubt they are the same person.

My mind reels, confused.
No,
I whisper in my thoughts.
No
.

“You okay?” David asks as he stoops down to help me.

“Not really.” I note the fresh bandages on his arm. “Are you?”

“I’m fine.” David’s mind brushes mine. He sees the images I see, hears my thoughts. Confusion and disbelief pass across his face in a single heartbeat, followed by stoic resolve. “Is it him?” he whispers.

“I don’t know. It might just be a trick, something LeMercier designed to torture me.” My mind circles in on itself.

“You need to tell them,” David says as he nods toward Mark and Elaine.

“Tell us, what?” Elaine asks.

I hesitate, but the look on David’s face brooks no argument. I release a deep sigh and turn to face our friends. “I don’t know if any of this is true, but David—both of us—think that there’s more to the recruit that we originally thought.”

“Like what?”

My mouth won’t formulate a response.

“Dakota saw images in the recruit’s thoughts that could indicate his identity.”

“His identity?” Mark asks.

“Yes. I saw, um, baby pictures.”

“I don’t understand.”

Again my mouth refuses to work. David takes my hand and squeezes.
It’s okay,
he says in my thoughts.
I’ll tell them
.

“Dakota saw pictures of herself, Josh, her mom. And Liam.”

“Liam?” Mark asks. “Why would the recruit have a picture of him in his head?”

Elaine’s gaze moves from me to David and back. “Oh my gosh. You think this recruit is Liam?”

My body stiffens against David. He strokes my arm, gently encouraging me to relax.

“I don’t know anything right now.” The words pour out too fast. “But when I attacked him and ripped his memories forward, I saw pictures of
my
childhood in his thoughts.”

“Maybe he was trying to trick you,” Mark says.

“That’s what I think. I mean, there’s no way the recruit can really be Liam, right?”

“He could be,” David says in a soft whisper meant only for me.

“Let’s figure this out logically,” Mark says. Clearly he’s the most reasonable one of our group. “Tell us exactly what happened.”

I explain the sequence of pictures I gleaned from the recruit’s thoughts. The image of LeMercier and the toddler. Mom, Josh and me. The vision of baby Liam crying and Josh comforting him. As I retell the story, my mind reels. Fresh confusion rises through me.

“And these pictures, memories, do they look familiar at all?” Mark’s tone is calm, the exact opposite of what I feel in this moment.

David senses my emotions and puts his good arm around me.

“That’s just it,” I say. “I’m not sure. They felt real enough. But no, I can’t say that I actually remember them.”

“Hmm.” Mark taps his finger on Elaine’s shoulder as he thinks. “I say it’s a trick. It wouldn’t have been hard for the recruit or the doctor . . .”

“LeMercier.”

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be that hard for them to plant those images on purpose. Just to mess with you.”

“I don’t know,” says David. “I think we need to assume that the images are real. The recruit seemed as shocked as Dakota to see them.”

“Excuse me,” Elaine cuts in. “but does any of this matter? The recruit is a bad guy, right? He wants to kill us.” She trains her razor-sharp gaze on me. “He wants to kill you. Why do we care if he’s your long-lost-brother that you never knew about? Whoever he was before, he is a killer now.”

Elaine had a point. The recruit wanted me dead. Regardless.

I stand, no longer able to control the anxiety threatening my mind. I pace back and forth. Back and forth. A nagging feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. Blurred memories rise from the depths of my mind. They settle behind my eyes, just far enough beyond my reach that I can’t make out the details.

Try to relax,
David whispers in my thoughts.
You won’t figure anything out when you’re this stressed.

I’m trying,
I say.
It’s hard. I need to know if it’s Liam. I have—
Before I finish, a new presence enters my mind. I slam my defenses shut at the threat, but the presence still comes. Chills chase down my spine as my skin turns to gooseflesh.

Dakota
. The voice is familiar. Water pricks behind my eyes and I look at David, wondering if he hears her.

He locks his gaze with mine. Shock toys with the corners of his mouth and I know he can.

Dakota. It’s me. It’s Mom
.

Tears overflow my eyes as the voice continues to speak.
Trust your instincts, Dakota. This recruit—this boy—is your brother.

My eyes widen and I forget to breathe.

David takes my hand in his, his eyes never leaving mine.

Mark opens his mouth and David raises a hand, stopping Mark’s words.

How is this possible? Are you . . . dead?

Mom laughs in my thoughts.
No,
she says.
I am very much alive
.

My heart clenches. An acrid taste forms in my mouth.

I know you have questions. There will be time for them soon
.

“When?” I say out loud. “When will there be time?”

“For wh—” David silences Elaine with one look.

Mom, why are you here now? Why haven’t you come sooner? I needed you
. I can’t stop the tears from pouring down my cheeks.
I still need you.

I know, baby. And I am trying to get to you. I am
.

My head spins as longing, anger, and grief still my breath.

I need you to find Liam, sweetheart. I need you to free him from LeMercier. Can you do that for me?

I stare at David, unsure of how to respond, what to think.

Please baby. I can’t do this without you.

My legs wobble and David steadies me.

Why can’t you do this, Mom? Why can’t you be here to do this?
I shake my head, willing the strange dream to end.

But this isn’t a dream.

David is telling the others about the conversation in my thoughts. He explains that Mom is alive. I hear his words, but can’t react. I’m too lost within the recesses of my own mind.

Please Dakota, find your brother. Bring Liam home
. Mom’s voice leaves as quietly as it came.