The Forbidden Trilogy (71 page)

Drake took the stairs two at a time, not wanting to get
trapped in an elevator if his cover was blown. The third floor looked much like
the rest of the hospital, sterile and bustling with routine activity. He
checked the room numbers as he walked the hall, his attention pulled into each
room he passed. One grabbed his attention more than the others. A little girl,
maybe six years old and tiny, lay strapped to a bed and hooked to a mass of
tubes that probably kept her unconscious and drugged. Whatever power she possessed,
they didn't want her awake to use it.

These people were not equipped to help these kids. Why
hadn't IPI intervened to take over this operation? Surely this would show up on
their radar. Drake suppressed the urge to rush in and whisk her away. He couldn't
help every kid here. He could only help Toby. But as room after room revealed
another kid in need of help, Drake wondered why Toby deserved help and they
didn't.

Is it because he was lucky enough to meet me first? No,
not lucky. Unlucky.

Toby had been unlucky enough to cross paths with Drake and
drink a drug that made him sick and killed his mom. Drake should have stopped
him, but he'd been too late. He felt responsible for Toby. That was the only
difference.

As he continued down the corridor, he knew with more
certainty that Steele had another method of introducing drugs to these kids
beyond what they'd acquired on the street.

Drake heard people talking in hushed voices behind the door
of one room. He peeked in and saw a soldier talking to a doctor. "Are you
sure all of the drugs have been removed?"

The doctor twisted a strand of gold hair that had fallen out
of her bun. "Yes, but now we have to replace everything. The drug was
found in pills and intravenous medication in every hospital in this area. Even
in the blood packs."

"Shit. What kind of sick freaks would do this?
How
could they even do this? Don't worry doctor, just let us know what you need.
We'll work with the CDC and other hospitals to get you supplies."

The soldier moved to the door and Drake walked away. Someone
had planted the drugs in the hospital, meaning Steele had infected thousands of
people. That meant a lot of deaths.

God, all of those kids.
He already knew Steele was
the worst kind of monster. Now, he just had to figure out a way to stop him.
Steele would pay for all of the pain and death he'd caused.

Drake arrived at Toby's room and found him strapped to the
bed, drugged. A clock on the wall said he had ten minutes left—not long to get
out of here. He closed the door and unstrapped the boy, taking care to avoid
the bruises he still had from the beating he'd taken. He pulled out the needles
of the IV and shook Toby gently to wake him, but he didn't respond.

Drake was going to have to carry him. But before he could
take Toby, he had to make a call.

He pulled out his phone and dialed. "Steele, I'm in.
There are guards on every floor."

"Remove them for me. Permanently."

Steele hung up, and Drake wanted to slam his fist into the
wall. He didn't want to follow this order, but he had to prove his worth to
Steele in order to get close enough to stop him for good, and to avoid
suspicion as he made his way to Sam. If he showed no worth at all, Steele would
kill him. That was certain.

He lifted Toby and carried him into the hall.

The soldier who'd been talking to the doctor walked toward
them. "Excuse me, where are you going with that boy?"

Drake tapped into his compulsion.
'Take your gun and
point it to your head.'

The soldier's eyes blanked out, and he raised his gun to his
head.

Drake stared at his eyes. This man didn't want to be here.
Like the girl downstairs, circumstances beyond his control had brought him to
this impasse, had screwed up his life. He just happened to be in the wrong
place at the wrong time.

Drake tried to derive some level of comfort from this. He
had to do this to get out and get back to Sam and their baby. He was
responsible for them, just as he was responsible for the boy in his arms.

Remove them for me.

It'd be easy. First, the man before him would shoot himself,
and Drake would collect his weapon. Then, like the Reaper himself, Drake would
haunt the halls, bringing swift death to all he encountered. He'd have to take
another dose or two of the purple drug—no way around that—but Steele would
replenish them if he did a good job. And Drake would do a good job. He'd leave
no one standing.

Remove them for me.

Steele might even give Drake his powers back if he handed
over all of these children. He'd said he would, eventually. Already, the drugs
slipped from Drake's body, stealing away his powers. How good it would feel to
be his old self again, to be the man Sam loved. It'd be easy to be that man
again.

Remove them for me.

Drake mirrored the man before him, forming a gun with his
fingers, bringing it to his head.

Another scene superimposed itself over this one. He and Sam
fumbled with the locked door in the Seeker's room, Mary outside. He'd been
willing to kill her to save them. He'd been willing to kill an innocent
person—and he was willing again. And look where that had gotten him.

Sam hadn't allowed it, and for good reason.

They both had great power. Drake had always thought she was
being foolish, too scared to defend herself and do what was necessary. But
now....
I'm so sorry Sam. I should have listened
.

He finally understood. She hadn't been scared to do the hard
thing. She'd been scared of what this power could do when misused.

'Lower your weapon.'

The guard followed Drake's instruction.

Steele would never trust him, but Drake would not kill these
people. He could use his para-powers to do good. He'd helped Sam develop mind
control so they could escape the clinic that would have destroyed them. But
Drake saw that they could also be abused—by the Seeker, by Steele... by him.

Father Patrick had once said these powers were gifts, and
that they didn't define him. They didn't make him good or bad. Rather, it was
how he used these gifts that defined him.

What Drake had been about to do, regardless of the reason,
was evil. He could no longer walk that path, not caring about the consequences,
out to get what he wanted—even if what he wanted was good.

He had an idea.

Drake shifted Toby to one arm and pulled out two more purple
vials. If he took these, he'd only have two left—around an hour of powers. Not
enough to fight Steele.

He downed one vial, then the other. Power surged through
him—stronger, bigger, more amplified than ever. His mind expanded and muscles
stretched his skin almost painfully. He reached out, connecting with the
soldiers and doctors, the girl downstairs, all of them.

'Leave, now. Leave and don't look back.'

Steele wouldn't kill the kids with powers, but he would kill
the others. This should keep them alive, at least.

Personnel shuffled out, and Drake followed, carrying his
charge.

His phone rang.

"Is it done?"

"Yes."

"Are they dead?"

"No. You didn't say to kill them. You said to remove
them, and I did. They've all left the building and won't be coming back."

Silence.

Steele inhaled sharply. "That must have cost you quite
a bit of drug. You won't be getting anymore. You know that, right? You've let
me down, Drake. I'm disappointed in you. I'll be in touch."

The phone went dead, and Drake walked into the crowd as
black trucks pulled up and men in black rushed into the hospital. Some already
wheeled the kids out on stretchers.

Drake wondered how the trucks had gotten there so quickly.

Perhaps they'd already taken up positions in the zone. Mr.
Steele could have had other people on the inside, even people in the Army. It
seemed likely. Maybe he just didn't have anyone with enough authority, or
capability, to clear the whole hospital.

Until Drake joined his team.

He slumped against the railing, Toby's body heavier than
before. The drugs were fading, pulling his powers with them. Only a small
amount remained, and he had no idea of how to get more. He couldn't have saved
Toby without his powers, and he wouldn't be able to help Sam without them
either.

He hoped that he hadn't made a bad situation worse by
helping Steele. At least he'd saved Toby from whatever fate Steele had planned,
but what about the rest of the kids? What would happen to them now?

The sun had set, and Drake walked into the crowds of
homeless people, losing himself in the shuffle.

One man stood out to him. He hadn't moved to find out what
was going on; he just sat in a corner, sipping from a bottle, lost in his own
misery. A hat lay on the ground at his feet, a hopeless plea for money. Drake
thought of the homeless man he'd nearly beaten to death for five dollars.

How? How have I fallen so far?

He stopped, pulled some cash out of his pocket, and threw it
into the man's hat.

The homeless man didn't speak, just nodded.

Drake nodded back, a silent affirmation of solidarity in a
hostile world.

Then he walked away, boy in his arms.

The crisp air smells like apples baking, as Lucy leans
against a rock and enjoys the sun on her skin. She doesn't want to keep talking
about their assignment in Russia, but she knows they have to.

Luke nudges her shoulder. "I don't know, Sis. I'm
not sure if we made the right decisions. How can you even know what the right
decision is when you're in the middle of it like that? Maybe if we'd done
something different, the scientist would have lived. Maybe even Adam would have
survived. How can we know?"

Their special valley hums with the magical chirping of
birds that shouldn't exist. Somewhere across the rolling green hills, Mr. K
pulses with life inside the earth.

Lucy pulls Luke's hand into her own. "We can't do
this to ourselves. We did the best we could with what we knew at the time. The
past is over—we can't change it. We have to look forward."

He pulls his hand away. "That's a cop-out. With that
attitude, no one ever takes responsibility for their own actions. What if we
didn't do our best? Or what if we did and it just wasn't good enough? We weren't
ready. They should've sent someone else."

"That wasn't our call to make."

"I know, but we still chose to go. We could have
said no. Maybe by being there, we made things worse."

Lucy throws a rock into the water and it skips twice
before sinking. That feels familiar, but she isn't sure why. "And maybe
things would have gone worse without us. Have you thought of that? Maybe more
people would be dead if we hadn't been there."

Luke shrugs and chases her rock with his own. "I
just hope we're making the right choices, because sometimes it doesn't feel
like it."

The water fills with flowers and Lucy dips her hand in to
play with a rainbow flower. This valley is so peaceful, so perfect. She lifts
the flower from the water and admires the many colored petals all working
together to create the rainbow effect. The simplicity and beauty impresses her.

She looks up to show Luke the flower and sees something
in the water coming near him. A pair of eyes peeks out, cutting a path through
the flower-strewn lake. Again, a sense of
deja vu
clutches at her,
filling her with dread. Is it an alligator in the water?

Her heart races in panic, though she's not sure why. "Luke,
there's something behind you. Run!"

Luke smirks at her but doesn't move. "Why?"

This is too familiar, but she doesn't understand. She
moves toward her brother and is about to tackle him, to push him away, but eyes
rise from the water and she sees it's not an alligator. It's a giant lizard.
She's seen it before, but where?

Green scales glisten in the sun, and its heart pulses
under its skin like a living ruby. With unparalleled speed, the lizard dives
forward and snatches Luke with its claws, pulling him back into the water.

"No! Leave him alone!" Lucy's screams fall
flat. She dodges the tail as it swings around to smack her.

She draws her gun and fires, over and over again.
Pow-Pow-Pow
.

Bullets imbed themselves in the flesh of the lizard, and
it roars and groans, spinning viciously, looking for something to attack.

Lucy doesn't stop firing. She empties her clip into the
beast.

The lizard roars again and flings Luke at her. His body
soars through the air and hits a tree, falling limp onto the ground.

"Luke. Luke!" Lucy rushes to him, eyes locked
on her twin, his pale face now coated in blood, a small hole—a bullet
hole—carved into his temple.

"Oh, my God, what have I done? What have I done?"
She can't take her eyes off her dead brother, though she can hear the lizard
approaching her from behind.

Her body refuses to move, refuses to pull away from Luke.
Even when she feels the beast take up the space behind her. Even when she feels
its hot breath on her neck. Still, she cannot move.

Cannot turn, or fight, or flee.

Goosebumps run down her arm and a cold sweat covers her skin.

Sharp teeth impale themselves in her neck and shoulder.
Pain. So much pain.

Then nothing.

***

Not nothing. More pain. Why did everything hurt so much?
Lucy pushed herself up from her stomach and collapsed back to the ground, too
weak to move and in too much agony to try again. A breeze stung her raw and
exposed back and she yelped in shock.