Catalyst (18 page)

“So you want to use me to get to Anderson?” Typical, but it would get me close to him. I would have preferred a weapon, my hunting knife, anything…but I’d settle for a bare-handed, old-fashioned beating. I’d kill him—for Griffin, for what I suspected he had been using Sonnet, for the evil he was happy to infect humanity with.

As the car rolled in front of the Anderson estate and into the drive, Enoch warned, “You’re to stay in the vehicle. I’ll check on Seven.”

The hell he would. But I nodded anyway.

The black sedan was parked in the Anderson’s driveway, spotless and shining in the afternoon sunshine. “Looks like they released her early,” Enoch mused.

I was fuming.

Enoch put the car into park and stepped onto the driveway. He climbed the steps and knocked on the door. One of the servants, I think Giles was his name, ushered him inside. Soldier Enoch disappeared behind the solid, painted-black, wooden door.

I didn’t waste time. The grains in the hourglass top were thinned to the point of disappearing altogether. Wrenching open the door didn’t work. It was locked from the inside, so I shuffled across the seats and went out the driver door, leaving it wide open. Alerting them of my presence was the last thing I wanted to do.

My legs were wobbly and jelly-like, but they held my weight. I stumbled into the side yard, stooping low to avoid being seen through the long windows. Around back, the door was locked. I pushed my shoulder hard just above the handle. Wood splintered but didn’t give way, so I pushed again, much harder, putting all of my weight into it.

This time, the door broke free, and I spilled into the basement of the Anderson home, catching myself on the smooth concrete floor. The sound of amicable male voices filtered through an air vent above my head.

“I trust that you’ve gotten her settled in,” I heard Enoch say.

“She’s doing well. She’s resting now, but thank you for your concern, Soldier.” Anderson answered.

Knowing that Anderson and Enoch were above me, I moved to the front of the house and crept down a long hallway until I found the staircase. Climbing the steps to the ground floor and then to the second story, I winced at every creak my feet made before tip-toeing down the hall that led to Seven’s room.

Just as I approached, a door swung open. My face was two inches from Zara’s. She gasped, and I covered her mouth with my hand before she could scream.

“Where is Seven?” I whispered, my eyes begging her to stay calm, to trust me.

She shook her head, but her eyes unconsciously ticked toward Seven’s bedroom door. “Zara, I didn’t hurt her. It was Sonnet, I swear.”

Her worried eyes raked over my face, searching for lies. She didn’t find any. “I love her. I would never hurt her.”

She gulped and gently peeled my hand from her mouth. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “She’s very fragile.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“Sonnet?”

“Yeah. She’d been doing it for years, but she wasn’t alone. I heard her paging someone last week about it—the day that Seven got really sick.”

Zara wrung her hands. “It’s
him
, I think. He’s been…difficult since they got home, especially towards the Missus.”

“Mrs. Anderson?”

She swallowed and looked to make sure we were still alone. “Sonnet just died. He should be grieving, but he is so angry with his wife that he… I don’t know. But something isn’t right.”

We stared at each other in silence until finally she ticked her head toward Seven’s door. I nodded my thanks and stepped to her left to go around her. A gruff voice stopped me in my tracks. “Zara, would you like to explain who let the pet back into the house?”

She opened her mouth, glanced from Elect Anderson toward me quickly. He was standing behind me at the top of the staircase. We were in trouble. Zara paled while Anderson’s face was turning the deep purple that I’d seen just after Seven chose me as her companion. My heart was racing. My eyes sought a weapon. There was nothing in the hallway at all. Even the paintings that had hung there just a few days ago had been removed.

But Zara wasn’t at fault for any of this. “No one let me in. I came in through the basement door. Check it. I busted it open.” He turned his attention to Zara, so I moved slightly in front of her.

“I’m not going to harm her, scrub! Zara, you are dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.” She stepped to my right and began walking toward another bedroom along the corridor.

He laughed. “I don’t think you understand. Your service in this household is no longer required.”

Zara inhaled sharply and then nodded. “Very well. I’ll clean out my room.”

“Don’t bother,” warned Anderson. “I’ll have it emptied and your belongings sent to you.”

She didn’t respond, just glanced at me and then turned and walked the length of the hallway. As her footsteps faded away slowly, Anderson had stalked forward and was now standing toe-to-toe with me, his eyes unblinking, and his jaw ticking rapidly.

“Breaking and entering is a crime punishable by death.”

I stared, refusing to respond. So he continued. “What I don’t understand is how you were released. The military has evidence that you were responsible for poisoning Seven. So either you escaped…or you were set free. Is it a coincidence that I just let a soldier leave the house?”

Best to avoid that question, or part of it. “I didn’t poison her. Sonnet did.”

He laughed. “Sonnet? Sonnet is dead, young man.”

Why would he be laughing at his daughter’s death? Anderson had lost it.

“I see the question in your eyes,” he said, stepping toward me, making me take a step backward. “You want to know if I killed her.”

He took another step, and I took another away from him.

Anderson’s lips thinned. “I didn’t kill Sonnet. I
had
her killed.”

“Why would you have your own daughter killed?”

He scoffed. “I didn’t. Seven and Sonnet aren’t my children.”

What?

Anderson laughed approaching with another step. “By now you know of the testing?”

When he paused, I nodded.

“Funny thing. I was one of the first subjects that the geneticists used. They had to make sure that their tests were flawless if they were to be used en masse. I tested with superior genes. The scientists asked that the rest of my family also have their DNA tested as a control of sorts. My wife tested as a Greater as well. The scientists knew without a doubt that if their tests were right, our daughters would share our genetic dispositions. Seven was tested. She was young, maybe eleven or twelve, at the time. But lo and behold, her profile was inferior. Sonnet’s was the same: inferior. The tests were wrong. The scientists had made a mistake somehow. Right?”

He waited for an answer that I didn’t give him, so he continued. “Wrong. The scientists, my colleagues, my friends, said there was only one reason for the abnormality. Seven and Sonnet were not fathered by me.”

“So you poisoned Seven and killed Sonnet? Didn’t you love them? Even if they weren’t blood, you raised them.”

Anderson narrowed his eyes. “How could I love something created by lies?” he snapped. He straightened his suit jacket and took a composing breath before continuing, “Sonnet had hated Seven since she was born. She’d always said that Seven stole the limelight from her. She was jealous and rightfully so. The two always competed, and Sonnet was always found wanting. When I suggested that we slowly make Seven sick, only for a short time and only to win the sympathy vote, Sonnet volunteered to help. Arsenic was easy to get ahold of. She never gave her more than a tiny amount until the larger dose you overheard her speaking about.”

As he stepped forward again, I pivoted. My shoulder blades brushed against the door of the room directly across from Seven’s bedroom. He was trying to box me in and I needed to be able to run. Over his shoulder, Seven’s door slowly opened. It was silent, not even creaking. She stood, eyes blank, staring at the back of the man she’d called her father for her entire life. Tears streamed from her eyes, dripped off her jaw. When she went to brush the tears away, I saw the way her fingers shook.

I looked at Anderson and kept my eyes trained on him. She was weak and didn’t need his crazy turned on her right now.

“You’re pathetic. You probably killed your wife, too,” I told him.

His eyes widened. “There is nothing about me that’s pathetic, boy. Look around.” He stretched his arms out. “I own this city and I’ll own the next, too. And my wife has been committed. She’s somewhere she can get help for her addictions.”

“My guess is that you were responsible for those addictions. You’ll rot in jail for what you’ve done, or maybe they’ll just put a bullet in your head and be done with it.”

Anderson’s upper lip curled up and he reached inside his suit jacket. When his hand appeared again, it was holding a pistol. “You know, only the Elite and the soldiers have access to bullets.” I hadn’t seen a functional one in years. Dad had one, but there was no ammunition. Griffin and I had played with it as children, pretending to be gunslingers in the Wild West—a time hundreds of years before The Fall itself—before the plague swept across the land indiscriminately.

I raised my palms in front of me. It was a reflex. I knew that my flesh couldn’t stop the bullet in the chamber, but I didn’t know what else to do.

“You…I should have put you down when she brought you home. But I thought she’d be gone by now. I thought you could sit with her and clean up her filth until the end. The doctors said days, not weeks.”

“Not enough poison?” I smarted off.

“You gave her
hope
. She even called out for you in the hospital. Mitis, where’s Mitis?”

“There are a lot of differences between you and me, Elect Anderson.”

He snorted, aiming the gun at my chest, fumbling with the safety.

I continued, “The biggest is that I love Seven. I’ve loved her since the first time I saw her. I just didn’t know it then.” I glanced at her, saying all of my goodbyes. He was going to shoot me and probably finish her off, too.

But I wasn’t going down without a fight. I raised my fists, ready to fight him to the end. He narrowed his eyes…

I struck out as he aimed, but he blocked the blow, striking me in the temple with the barrel of the gun.

And then his mouth gaped open, his eyes went wide, and he made a strangled, gasping sound. It was desperate, like the man had been drowning and needed a gulp of air or he would die. Anderson coughed once, spraying my face and clothes with bloody spittle. I looked over his shoulder and Seven was standing there, both hands clasped tightly over her mouth.

He turned to look at her, and it was then that I saw the butcher knife sticking out of his back. Anderson dropped to his knees and then collapsed to the floor, wheezing loudly. Seven jumped out of the way so he wouldn’t knock her down.

She’d stabbed him. The knife must have torn through the lung and heart, and in the process, tore through her own. She wasn’t cut out for this. Killing wasn’t something anyone should grow accustomed to.

Seven’s heaving sobs echoed through the hallway. I crouched down, checking his throat for a pulse. It was there one second and gone the next. And so was Elect Anderson.

I moved toward Seven, hands out, extended in surrender. I’d worried that she would believe the lies that he told her, that she would think I had poisoned her.

Seven didn’t yell or shrink away, and she didn’t hesitate. She picked herself up off the floor and launched her entire body at mine. I caught her and held her tight. The floral scent of her hair, the silkiness of her skin was home.

I was home. And I never wanted to let go of her.

Then she freaked out. “He was killing me! He killed Sonnet!” She rocked back and forth, sobbing and shaking.

“Shh. I know.”

“It wasn’t you,” she cried. “They said it was you, but everything in me screamed that it wasn’t. It wasn’t you. And he would have killed you! He would have shot you, Mitis.”

I hugged her tight. “I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“I know.” Her fingers dug into my flesh, and I couldn’t hold her close enough. They’d tried to tear us apart. They’d failed.

Ex
·
tin
·
guish

/i
kˈ
stiN
Gɡ
wiSH/

verb

1. cause (a fire or light) to cease to burn or shine.
   Synonyms: douse, put out, stamp out, smother, beat out
   
2. put an end to; annihilate.
   Synonyms: destroy, end, finish off, put an end to, bring to an end, terminate, remove, annihilate, wipe out, erase, eliminate, eradicate, obliterate
   
3. cancel (a debt) by full payment.
   

SOBS WRACKED MY
body. I clung to the only truth I knew: Mitis. He was here. He hadn’t hurt me and he never would—not like
him
. A crimson puddle spread beneath my father’s prone body. I never imagined being able to kill another person, but I hadn’t imagined that I would need to. When it came down to it, the decision had been easy. I couldn’t let my father kill Mitis and I couldn’t let him kill me anymore either. He had taken so much from me, but none of that mattered—the time, the hours spent sick, the countless trips to the doctor. The fact that he’d had someone kill Sonnet meant he wasn’t afraid to do anything at all to get his way.

He was evil, and he was going to take Mitis away. Mitis had been prepared to fight, he’d balled his fists up and swung at my father. Before my father struck him in the head with his gun.

I pulled away, searching for the injury, finding it on his left temple.

Pressing a soft kiss to the swelling, purpling bruise, I let go of him. Reality had set in. There was a knife in my father’s back. I’d put it there, but Mitis would hang for it.

“We have to get Cason and get out of the city—now.”

Mitis swallowed. “We do. Can you page him?”

I let him pull me up. “Let me grab a few things. You run to my father’s study and find anything you can to prove that he was responsible for Sonnet, about the testing—anything. If we get caught, we’ll need it.”

Mitis nodded. “Meet me at the front door in five?”

“Okay,” I agreed and watched him step over the body. I smoothed my hair back trying to keep calm, grabbed the page from atop my dresser and sent a quick page to Cason’s owners asking for his help with a few things around the house.

From my closet, I threw on my red tennis shoes and grabbed a small bag, stuffing it with a bottle of water and a sweater. That’s all that would fit. I rushed toward the door but stopped, remembering my list. Easing it out of my pillowcase, I slowly stepped across the room on trembling knees and stepped over Father’s body, careful to avoid the blood. A trail was the last thing we needed.

I was numb.

Paging Cason had been the right decision. He came straight over, meeting us at the front door, offering to help us escape the city. “It’s market day, so the gates are open, but we won’t have long,” Cason explained, adjusting the shoulder straps on a black bag. His companions had given him food, containers of water and a backpack full of other supplies they said we might need. Mitis gave Cason a stack of files, stuffed with white paper.

“Did you find anything useful?” I asked Mitis.

“More than enough, though I’m not sure it’ll help if they catch us. We’re in a lot of trouble.”

We needed to leave the city. Now. “We can take the car and ditch it near the gate,” I offered.

Cason and Mitis agreed, and we set off toward the car I knew was parked around back. The keys were on a hook just inside the front door, so I snuck back in to grab them. No servants were present. I knew Father had dismissed Zara, but where were the others? Usually Zara, and at least one other servant, was home. Did Father have more blood on his hands?

The car was warm. Mitis and Cason rolled their windows down immediately. Driving was easier this time. I steered gently down streets that led to the Eastern gate easing my foot on and off the accelerator and brake pedal instead of mashing them to the floor.

The closer we came to the gate, the more violently my hands shook. I squeezed the steering wheel to steady them but worried it would make the entire car shake. From the passenger seat, Mitis noticed, glancing from them on the wheel to my face and back. Cason’s head darted up between the two of us, his huge hands gripping the headrests. “We should find a place to ditch the car.” His voice startled me and I pushed the brake pedal too hard. Cason was literally in between us then.

“Sorry,” I apologized and then scanned for a good place. A small white house with a dilapidated carport sat just ahead. The carport was overflowing. There were old bicycles, towers of stacked cardboard boxes, smashed empty glass jars and junk all over it, but just enough room to squeeze the car into.

Cason and Mitis jumped out while I eased the car into the mess. Pulling the handle, I pushed the door open. It thumped hard against something. Looking down, I saw that it was hitting an old, window air conditioning unit. I couldn’t get out of the car.

Mitis called out, “Out the window. It’s the only way.”

Great. My body was so tired. I wasn’t sure there was enough strength left in me to lift my own weight. And I didn’t weigh much.

Before I could push myself up, Mitis was there, somehow wedged between the air conditioner and the car itself. “Let me help you, Seven. We’ve got to move.”

Any feminist retort was squashed by my screaming muscles. I let him lift me up and out and then I threaded my fingers through his and we took off with Cason together.

“The story, if they ask, is that I’ve been sent to the market by my father, that you are both with me to ensure my safety and help carry back anything that I purchase.”

Both guys nodded, and we walked across the road, through the sparse grass that crunched beneath our feet and the dust clouds that billowed up with the gusts of wind caught it just right. The gate was in sight. Two guards were positioned in its center.

The younger, I recognized as Soldier Enoch. He was the soldier who had used his stunner on Mitis, just before he stuffed him into the back seat next to me. The other was middle-aged with salty hair and a sour disposition.

I heard him mutter something like “more scrubs,” and gave him a stern look. He just snorted and stepped in front of me. Cason and Mitis were one step behind. “Where are you going at this hour?” the surly soldier asked.

“My father sent me to the market. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”I tried to step around him, but he mirrored my steps, blocking my path.

Mitis and Enoch were staring at one another. Cason was staring at the guard bothering me.

“And who exactly is your father? Market is closing.”

“Elect Anderson,” I replied confidently, daring him to deny me.

The man’s eyes widened and then he fastened them on Mitis and Cason. “Well, you need to hurry. The
scrubs
are packing everything up and leaving.”

He stepped aside and I led the two scrubs—the two men I trusted above anyone else in the city—outside Confidence’s gates, first one and then the other. We walked quickly toward the market and Cason began searching the shanties for someone or something.

“He’s finding some clothes for us,” Mitis explained, placing his hand on my lower back. I looked down at my outfit. Gray yoga pants and a teal, long-sleeved T-shirt. He chuckled. “You won’t blend in, Seven. And out there, you need to blend.”

Mitis looked beyond me into the sparse trees just a dozen yards away. What was out there? I was about to find out.

Cason returned with his hands full of dull brown fabric. “Slip these on. Quickly.” Blushing, the giant of a man turned his back to me and blocked me from most people’s view. Mitis turned his back, but only after sneaking a peek over his shoulder. To his dismay, the garment was already in place. It was filled with holes, and the material was itchy and fibrous. A dress of sorts, it had been patched several times over.

Mitis looked down at my red sneakers and shook his head, grinning. “I guess you can keep those.”

I ticked my head back. “You aren’t taking my shoes, Mitis.”

He chuckled but then tensed when the sound of gravel crunching got closer to us. It was the younger soldier. My heart was beating so loud he could probably hear it.

“Lose the collar and go now while he’s distracted,” Enoch told Mitis.

“Why did you leave the Anderson’s and where did you go?” Mitis asked.

Enoch looked around before whispering loudly. “I got paged. And I told you not to leave the car!”

“You knew I wouldn’t stay put.”

Enoch looked me over and then nodded. “You look good as a scrub, Seven Anderson.”

I twisted my balled up shirt in my hands. Could he see the blood stained on the cuff?

“How’d you slip out without Elect Anderson noticing?” Enoch asked, shifting on his feet.

Mitis swallowed, so I spoke up. “We didn’t.”

Enoch’s eyes widened. “He’s at the estate, second floor.”

“Come with us,” Mitis offered, waving for him to follow.

Enoch shook his head. “I have unfinished business. If the computers go down, they’ll lose all the data and won’t be able to separate anyone.”

Cason nodded thoughtfully. Mitis clapped Enoch on the back. “Be safe. If you head due east, you’ll eventually find the coast. There are boats. Just bring something of value to pay for your fare.”

Every muscle in my body tensed when I heard him say my name. Aric. “Seven? What are you doing here?”

I turned around to find him standing behind me, waiting for an answer, thinking himself entitled to one. “Father sent me to market.”

Aric’s brows furrowed, but he stepped forward and leaned down to my ear. “I’m so sorry about Sonnet.”

“Thank you. And I’m sorry for your loss, too.”

He looked me over and ticked his head back. “Why are you dressed like that?”

My mouth gaped open. “Um…”

Aric’s eyes darkened. “You’re leaving!”

“No!”

“You’re leaving with
him
? You’ve got to be kidding me. A scrub?” He was quiet for a few beats and then, “No.”

“No?” I felt Mitis tense behind me. Enoch was watching the scene unfold, and Cason was a quiet force behind us all.

Aric crossed his arms. “I can’t let him take you, Seven.”

“I’m not going against my will. I want to go.”

“I don’t believe that,” he whispered loudly, grabbing my elbow.

Mitis interjected then. “Get your hands off her. Now.”

Aric removed his hand and then shook his head. He pinned me with a strange look and then walked away from us, back toward the city gate.

Everyone breathed in relief.

After he wished us well, Soldier Enoch retraced his steps and Cason, Mitis and I stepped toward the scrub land. The dry grass gave way to a thick carpet of dead leaves, briars, and underbrush just inside the tree line. Just inside the thicket, we heard a commotion. Looking back, the older guard was using his stunner on Enoch. Aric stood to the side, just out of the melee.

“You are under arrest for the murder of Elect Anderson, the murder of Sonnet Anderson and the kidnapping of his daughter, Seven! Tell us where she is!”

“I didn’t do it!” he screamed.

“No!” I shrieked. Standing behind me, Mitis clapped his hand tight over my mouth. But the guard’s head snapped up, focusing immediately on me. Aric pointed toward us.

“Seven Anderson?”

Mitis turned me around. “We have to run! Get on my back.”

“No, Mitis! You’re weak. You can’t carry me.”

The soldier was half-limping, half-running toward us as two other soldiers subdued Enoch. “Seven Anderson! Stop! Your father! I have news of your father,” he bellowed, waving one hand and with the other, charging his stunner.

I turned to Mitis. “I’ll stay! I’ll tell them everything.”

“You can’t. They’ll kill you and this time they won’t miscalculate. You’re dangerous because you know what they’re doing.”

Cason interrupted us. “Get on my back, Seven. I can carry you.”

The soldier was close. Cason handed me his backpack, and I hefted it over my shoulder. Mitis lifted me and I wrapped my arms around Cason’s thick neck, my legs across his midsection. Mitis shewed Cason and said he would meet us at Burnette’s Bridge. He told us to camp there and wait for him. When I turned to tell Mitis I would see him at the bridge, he was already gone.

“Hold on tight,” Cason said. I made sure of my grip, and when he was satisfied, he nodded and took off running. For a giant of a man, he was fast. My weight didn’t seem to affect him at all.

The soldier shouted my name and tried to reach us, but he was no match for Cason. We disappeared into the labyrinth of pines and oaks, the sun at our backs and the sound of the dog’s gnashing teeth ever too close for comfort.