Betrayed (3 page)

“FIRST AND FOREMOST, CONGRATULATIONS
are in order.” Loki offered his most generous smile as he turned to Dr. Glenn and his other mild-mannered colleagues in white lab coats. The single exposed lightbulb hanging down from the ceiling was just bright enough to illuminate their grateful if somewhat reserved smiles.

“I know I can be quite demanding at times,” Loki went on, making brief eye contact with each of the dimly lit doctors on the team, “but perhaps now you can all see why I have been so demanding. Phobosan II is an unequivocal victory, and for that, I commend you all. I only wish you could experience its remarkable properties firsthand, as I have.”

“Sir, if I might,” Dr. Glenn interjected, the smile still pasted across his face. “I am a bit concerned about your decision to volunteer yourself as the test subject for the second generation. We really haven't been able to fully test the drug, and I'd like to—”

“Oh, I appreciate your caution, Dr. Glenn,” Loki interrupted, “but I assure you, you are selling yourself short.” He stood up out of his tattered black leather chair and moved closer to the doctor, staring into his eyes with sharp, pointed confidence. “Look at me, Doctor. I think I'm far from a ‘test subject.' The testing stage is clearly over. No kinks, no side effects, not even any
mild
side effects. Unless, of course, you consider supreme confidence and total clarity of mind side effects. I'm not even sure you understand how profound a victory this is. We've done so much more than just concoct a fearless serum here.”

“Well, sir, I know that
right now
you may be feeling quite—”

“Doctor, I assure you, you have
no idea
what I am feeling right now. You might understand if you or your staff had even a fraction of my courage and were willing to take the injection, but I suppose that's the irony, isn't it? You're all too afraid to be fearless.”

Loki turned from the doctor and took a few steps back from the group to address them more officially. “Now, enough of the congratulations,” he announced. “Let me move on to
apologies.
Because I owe one to each of you.”

Loki watched as the faces before him took on varying degrees of confusion. Looking particularly baffled were the two matching faces to his right—the faces of QR1 and QR2—the two remaining genetic clones of Josh Kendall. Of course, their DNA was now the only thing that remained of Josh, as Loki had been forced to terminate the real Kendall. The boy's feelings for Heather Gannis had led to him to be quite stupidly disloyal, and Loki had been left with no choice but to eliminate him. Normally, having to look at these two identical images of Josh's face would only frustrate Loki further, but with phobosan II coursing through his veins, nothing so trivial was going to faze him.

“Apologies?” QR1 asked with that same insistent tone that had begun to make Josh such a nuisance. “Apologies for what?” Apparently their faces weren't the only things that were identical. It seemed one could clone an attitude as well.

But they did have every right to be confused. Loki knew that his staff wasn't at all accustomed to hearing him apologize. After all, he had always made it quite clear that
they
were the ones making all the mistakes. But now he had come to realize a certain ignorance in that perception, and he felt compelled to set the record straight.

“Well, for a couple of things, actually,” Loki replied. “First of all, I'd like to apologize for the rather shoddy surroundings.” He opened his arms slightly and referenced the grayish-white walls and the dark, creaky floors of the five-story Brooklyn brownstone. He'd left all the splintered wooden floors unfinished and put in no furniture other than a few absolutely necessary secondhand items.

“I know these are not the kinds of accoutrements you are used to, but I assure you, this is all we're going to need. We're not going to be here for very long, and when we leave, that is when we're going to want to dispose of the furniture and clean the floors of evidence.”

A few members of Dr. Glenn's team averted their eyes. The word
evidence
clearly made them uncomfortable.

“But much more importantly,” he went on, “I want to apologize to all of you for…well, for making a mess of things, really.”

Now his audience looked downright shocked. “You can all stop gawking now,”he said, smiling. “It's true. I have made a mess. And I'm quite sure that more than a few of you have whispered as much behind my back. The truth is, I've been wasting so much of our time pining for Gaia's love and affection when in fact, all we ever really needed…was her blood. So, from this point on, I assure you, blood is the only thing we are out for.”

The silence in the room was deafening. His unusual degree of bluntness had apparently left them all speechless. “The logic couldn't be simpler, really,” he explained. “When one makes a mess, the only solution is to clean it up, and that is why, as of 9
P
.
M
. this evening, Operation Clean Slate will commence. We have finally found success with phobosan II, but the road to that success has been littered with witnesses and enemies, and that simply won't do. All of them will need to be cleaned out within the next forty-eight hours. That is our deadline. Once the last of the mess has been wiped up, we'll be leaving this filthy city for quite some time and moving on to far greater things. Now, thankfully, some of the mess has already been taken care of—George Niven, Josh Kendall—”

“What?”
QR1 blurted, shooting up from his flimsy folding chair. “What are you talking about? What did you do to Josh?”

Loki turned to QR1 and locked eyes with him. He had no time for attitude. “I just
told
you what happened,” he explained calmly, staring QR1 into submission. “Your ‘brother,' Mr. Kendall, has been cleaned. He attempted to betray me, not to mention everyone else who has worked so hard on the serum. If he had succeeded in administering the counteragent to our first test subject, Ms. Gannis, we might never have completed the testing of phobosan I. His betrayal left me with no choice but to terminate. Do you have a
problem
with that?”

Silence filled the dimly lit room again. The one stark bulb suddenly seemed to cast an interrogation like light on QR1 as Loki watched this carbon copy of a young man have a most unexpectedly emotional reaction to Josh's death. There seemed to be a genuine sense of loss in his usually inhuman neon blue eyes. Loss, and sadness, and even a tinge of deep resentment as he and Loki stayed locked in a visual showdown.

Loki was of course being facetious when he referred to Josh as QR1's ‘brother
.'
A clone couldn't truly have a brother. How could he have a brother if he didn't even have a mother? This was what made QR1's reaction all the more curious. But now was not the time for curious
.
There would be plenty of time for curious once this operation was complete.

“I just don't see…,” QR1 began. “I don't see why you had to kill—”

“Before you answer,” Loki interrupted coldly, “I suggest you take a look at QR2 and try to emulate his behavior.” QR2 was still sitting quietly in his chair, indicating no emotion whatsoever. “Is that clear? Now, are you going to sit down…or are you going to add to the mess?”

Loki reached inside his coat and wrapped his hand tightly around the handle of his nine-millimeter automatic, hoping to speed up QR1's reply by simplifying his options. But there was no need to even remove the gun from its holster.

“I…I'm sorry, sir,” QR1 uttered quietly, dropping back down into his chair and wiping any traces of emotion from his face.

Loki waited one more discomforting beat before removing his hand from the gun.

“Fine,” he said finally, scanning the room for any further dissidence. “Then let's dispense with the congratulations and apologies and begin going over this operation. Forty-eight hours should be plenty of time, but I'll need you all to follow my instructions with absolute precision. As I'm sure you all know, each one of these messes will require an entirely different method of cleaning.”

WHY WAS SHE ALWAYS RELIVING
the worst memories? Why couldn't it ever be a memory of that trip to Cape Cod with her parents or that cup of Godiva hot chocolate with real whipped cream that she and Ed shared three months ago at Balducci's? No, it was always the horrors that repeated themselves. The mistakes and the accidents and the World's Most Painful Moments. Right now Gaia could think of a thousand other experiences that would make for a preferable déjà vu. Reliving last year's dental surgery would certainly be a treat. A kick to the gut from one of Loki's thugs would be a holly jolly Christmas memory compared to this.

Because this moment—this walk of shame through the cold white linoleum halls of St. Vincent's Hospital…this was the déjà vu from hell.

Everything was exactly as it had been the last time Gaia visited Heather in the hospital. The same stink of ammonia, the same garbled voices barking over the PA system, the same phantom faces of the sick floating by in wheelchairs, making Gaia feel guilty for even being able to walk. And once again Gaia was trying to form the appropriate apology to Heather in her head, knowing all too well how meaningless it would be. At least this time the entire senior class of the Village School wasn't lining the hospital halls, staring at Gaia like she was the class Antichrist for letting Heather get slashed. But it didn't really matter if they were there or not because Gaia could still feel them there. She could still feel their eyes ripping her to pieces for being so cold and heartless.

After all, her mistake was, for all intents and purposes, the exact same one it had been the last time. The same mistake that she'd already spent most of the evening punishing herself for: saying nothing. That night all those months ago when she'd run into Heather, that was the one time in Gaia's entire life that she
hadn't
opened her big mouth. And that's all it would have taken. Just one sentence. Just a few words of warning to Heather about that gang of sicko skin-heads waving their knives around inside the park.

And it was really just the same with Josh. Sure, she'd tried to warn Heather about him, but what was that really worth? It took a whole lot more than words to deal with Josh Kendall, and Gaia knew that. She should have just sought him out herself and dropped him down a manhole, but she'd been too busy being trapped in her own succession of nightmares. And yes, Heather's new obsession with trying to pick a fight with Gaia had been a most bizarre and troubling pain in the ass. But if Gaia had taken any real time to think about it, she would have considered the likely possibility that Josh had just been systematically driving Heather crazy. Just like he'd done to Sam. Just like Loki tried to do to everyone else.

Loki. It always led back to Loki. There was simply no one else on this planet with such an uncanny ability to infuriate Gaia or make her despise herself. At least that was what she thought. Until she opened the door to Heather's hospital room and saw Heather's family.

In case Gaia hadn't learned it already, here was a very valuable lesson: No matter how bad she felt…she could always feel worse.

The moment she opened the door, it felt like the fluorescent lights in the room had suddenly gone to black and a glaring white spotlight had nailed her against the wall. Heather's entire family was seated around the bed, staring at Gaia, boring holes through her skin with their eyes. Of course, she was the absolute last person the Gannis family would have wanted to see right now. As far as they were all concerned, they were staring at the girl who was responsible for the near murder of their beloved sister and daughter.

Heather's father's jaw was clenched so tightly, Gaia thought he might never be able to unlock it again. Her sister Phoebe's gaunt face and dark accusing eyes made her look like some kind of vengeful ghost. And then there was Heather's mother, whose rage toward Gaia was so laser focused, it sent her two steps backward. But Gaia couldn't allow herself to leave yet. After all, she still had more hatred to face. There was Ed, who was staring at her like she was in a police lineup. And then there was Heather…

Gaia couldn't even begin to read the expression on her face. Her eyes seemed so hauntingly blank—just staring aimlessly into space as if she couldn't bear to look directly at Gaia. As if Gaia weren't even in the room. Somehow, that hurt so much more than the vicious glances from Ed and Heather's family. At least there was some kind of twisted catharsis in being actively hated. But for someone to hate you so much that they couldn't even acknowledge your presence?

“Who's there?” Heather asked in a raw scratchy voice. She was staring just over the top of Gaia's head. “Is that Gaia?”

Gaia had no clue how to respond. Was this Heather's immature way of insulting her? Was she playing some kind of I'm-ignoring-you game like she probably used to do in the third grade? Gaia looked to Ed for answers, but all she got from him was that same accusing stare, until he finally turned back to Heather.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That's her.”

“Gaia…,”Heather uttered. “You came.”

“Yeah,” she replied, taking a step closer to the foot of Heather's bed, trying to ignore the Gannis family firing squad. “What…what happened?”

“I'm not sure,” Heather said, still staring off into space.

“Heather…” Gaia darted her eyes to Ed and the family before turning back to Heather reluctantly. “Heather, why won't you look at me?”

The entire family bowed their heads with discomfort, as if Gaia had just asked the one question she wasn't supposed to ask.

“Because I can't see you,” Heather replied, coughing out a horrid, nervous laugh. The laugh immediately died as narrow tracks of tears began to fall from each of her aimless eyes, dripping onto her bleached white pillowcase. “I can't see anything.”