Flawed (6 page)

The cold penetrated her clothes and inched over her skin, raising goose bumps. After sweating for the last few hours, she didn’t mind. She smiled and was about to greet her hosts, but before she had a chance to say anything, she found herself in the same predicament as Woody had. For someone as small and frail as Sarah, she was incredibly strong. Her arms wrapped around Ellyssa in a vise-like hug.

Surprised, Ellyssa stood still for a moment, arms dangling uselessly. But Sarah’s warmth and spirit fed Ellyssa with a sense of familiarity she was growing accustomed to. Finally, she hugged the older female.

Sarah didn’t seem to notice Ellyssa’s hesitation at all. She pulled Ellyssa in for one last squeeze, then stepped away, wiping her hands on her yellow coat. “My, you are all just soaking wet.”

“Yes,” she said, feeling the warmth seep away. She wrapped her arms around herself. “It is cold.” She turned and grabbed her parka from the sweat box she’d just escaped. It was damp.

“Tim, we need to go inside,” Sarah said, pulling blankets free from a box. “Here, dear.” She unfolded the blanket, then pulled it around Ellyssa’s shoulders. “This will help until we get you inside the house.” As she spoke, her eyes suddenly lit up, erasing away another ten years. “Rein.”

Rein held his arms open. “It’s been a while.”

“At least a year,” Sarah said, muffled in his chest.

As Rein and Sarah greeted each other, Ellyssa noticed Trista walking toward Tim. The older male looked at her, his brow bunched in questioning wrinkles. Trista gave him a subtle shake of the head.

Ellyssa wondered what secret message the two exchanged. Going by their worried expressions, whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be good. Narrowing her eyes, Ellyssa asked, “What’s wrong?”

Tim nervously fingered his beard. “Let’s get in the house first.”

Ellyssa felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Sarah smiling sadly. The older female dropped her hand and reached for Rein and Woody.

“I’m so sorry for the loss you’ve endured. It was terrible when news reached us, then Trista,” her head lowered, “filled us in on the rest of the gruesome details.”

“I haven’t had time to tell them everything,” Trista piped up.

Sarah nodded. “I see. Well, there will be plenty of time for all that. I’m sure you must be starving.”

Tim approached Rein and gripped his shoulder. “We’re truly sorry, son.”

“Thank you,” Rein replied, looking away and blinking.

Tim fidgeted for a moment. “Well, then, I guess we should go in the house.”

Sarah opened the door. Snow swirled in and freezing wind snuck under the folds of her blanket. Shivering, Ellyssa filed out after the others into the backyard that had been green at her last visit. Browns and gold, with a light powdering of snow, dominated the landscape. The fruit-bearing trees’ bare limbs stretched into a cloudy sky.

Tim took the lead as they neared the back door. With his hand on the doorknob, he hesitated, then turned around. He rubbed his bearded chin. “Do you remember what makes up the Resistance?”

Both frowning, Rein and Woody nodded.

“Remember that.” He turned and opened the door to the sunny kitchen.

As Ellyssa walked inside, a remembrance of hominess and warmth enveloped her. She’d never lived in a real home, and the love and comfort flowed as if alive. Yellow lit the room like sunshine, from the walls to the sunflower tablecloth. Knickknacks littered every open space, and French doors opened into the living room.

Rein walked in behind and slipped his arm around her shoulder. He looked around, apparently expecting to find something, but the kitchen was empty. “What’s all this about?” he asked Tim.

“There’s someone you need to meet,” Sarah said, walking toward the living room.

Rein exchanged a curious look with Woody. “Okay. Someone who defected?”

Chewing on her bottom lip, Trista’s eyebrows drew together. “You could say that.”

Someone new?
Ellyssa visibly tensed, her soldiering instincts uncoiling. With everything that’d happened, she couldn’t believe everyone else was so calm.

Rein’s fingers trailed down Ellyssa’s arm, leaving behind tingles, and slipped into her hand. “This is how our society is made. We accept people for who they are, not what they did in the past.”

“I understand…trust. But with everything that has happened, how can you be certain they are not a spy…or worse?” she questioned.

“I don’t.” Rein shrugged. “We’ve never known for certain.”

Woody leaned toward her ear. “You can, though.”

Ellyssa gave a short nod, but before she had a chance to expand her mind, Trista brushed by, grabbing Woody’s hand.

“I promise you that he is not some sort of spy,” she interjected.

With a slight shrug of his shoulders and a reassuring smile, Rein released Ellyssa’s hand and followed.

As soon as Rein and Woody crossed the threshold, they stopped. A tsunami of angry tension crashed.

Something was wrong. Very wrong. Whoever was in the other room, Rein and Woody definitely recognized him.

“What is this?” Rein asked through clenched teeth.

He didn’t wait for an answer as he flew into the room. A crash sounded, followed by a bang.

Fear squeezed Ellyssa’s heart. “Rein!” She bolted forward, passing Woody and Trista, where she skidded to a stop.

Rein’s fingers were locked around a male Ellyssa recognized from Detective Petersen’s mind. Muscles bulging beneath his shirt, Rein knocked the captain’s head against the wall. “What the hell,” Rein yelled.
Thump
. “What. The. Hell.”
Thump
.

Captain Dyllon Jones was up on his toes, head bouncing off the wall, sea-blue eyes swollen. The dark-green uniform of the area police he wore was crumpled, the swastika armband ripped. An electroshock weapon hung from his belt, but the captain made no move toward it. Instead, the captain’s hands fluttered around Rein’s wrists, trying to free himself. Red splotched his face as he gasped for air.

“Rein,” Trista squealed, horrified. She pushed around Ellyssa.

Woody reached out to stop her, but the blonde ducked under his outstretched hand. She darted to Rein and hit him on the back. “Let him go! Damnit, Rein. Let him go!”

Rein didn’t even seem to notice Trista. He kept knocking Captain Jones’ head into the wall.

Thump
.

Woody grabbed hold of Trista and yanked her away.

“You don’t understand,” she said, her voice high with anger as she tried to pull free. “God damn it, Rein! Stop it!”

Ellyssa stood mesmerized, unsure. Confused. Surely, Trista hadn’t betrayed them, but there was the male who had accompanied Detective Petersen.

“Please, Ellyssa, make him stop,” Trista begged from behind her. “I promise, he’s done nothing but help.”

Certainly Trista wouldn’t lie. It definitely wouldn’t hurt to look since Rein had him under control.

Thump
.

Ellyssa opened the door to the captain’s thoughts. Fear and confusion circled in his head, vying for dominance. He remembered Rein, remembered Woody, but that was all Ellyssa could read. The emotions were too loud to get a clear scan of his true intentions. She released his thoughts and went to Rein.

“Let him go,” Ellyssa said.

Rein glanced at her, his eyes circles; wildness raged within the green. Red splotched his face as well. A slew of cussing saturated the room.

“Let him go, Rein. If he is a spy,
I
can get information from him.”

Rein stopped knocking the captain’s head but didn’t let go of his neck. His knuckles were bleached white from the death grip he held. “It—It’s him,” he stuttered, his words pained and angry. “He helped her.”

The
her
Rein referred to was the now-deceased Detective Angela Petersen, The Center’s
Schutzpolizei
. Ellyssa’s father, Dr. Hirch, had sent Angela to find Ellyssa when she’d escaped from under his control. It was the detective who’d delivered Rein to Dr. Hirch, and ultimately into the hands of Ellyssa’s sister, Aalexis.

Rein’s lips curled into a snarl as he turned back toward the captain, their noses almost touching.

Thump
.

Plaster dust fell. A bluish grey tinted the captain’s face.

“Stop it!” Trista screamed, still trying to break free from Woody.

Ellyssa didn’t need to read Rein’s mind to know what he was thinking. The pain and suffering he’d experienced under Aalexis’ influence had been torturous. She herself had felt the faux fire lick through her veins as her sister manipulated his pain receptors. Even with Ellyssa’s genetically enhanced capabilities and high threshold for pain, the intensity had crumpled her to the ground like a ragdoll. Frankly, it surprised her that Rein, a normal human, had been able to withstand such agony.

“I know. I understand,” Ellyssa said. Calmly, she reached up and stroked Rein’s face. “I can get to the root of this if you let him go. If you give me the chance.”

For a moment, Rein acted like he wasn’t going to listen to her, the tips of his fingers hidden in the flesh of Dyllon’s neck. Then, he let out a breath and, slowly, he nodded. One by one, Rein’s fingers relaxed. Blood rushed back into his knuckles, turning them pink.

Hacking, Captain Jones slid down the wall to his knees. “I…” he croaked.

Ellyssa knelt before him, her face clear of emotion. “I know who you are,” she stated.

The captain looked at her, understanding filtering into his eyes.

“I need you to calm down.”

He acknowledged her words, but his expression, and the way his eyes darted around, showed lack of ability.

Ellyssa looked up at Rein, whose face was still flushed in fury, then at Woody. He held Trista by her upper arm; she no longer struggled, her blue eyes locked on Ellyssa. Back by the French doors, holding hands, Tim and Sarah stood.

They were all watching her.

“I want you to understand,” she said, facing Dyllon, “as of right now, no one will hurt you. But you must relax.”

Hand around his neck, breath ragged, Dyllon stared at her, apparently confused. He glanced at Trista, pleadingly, as if he expected her to save him.

Ellyssa shook her head. “Do you understand?”

He nodded and exhaled a raspy breath.

She looked into his eyes, the bluish-green peeking around the edges of dilated pupils. “Calm,” Ellyssa said in a soothing voice.

Surprisingly, the captain did. His pupils constricted slightly, and the anxiety on his face dimmed. As Dyllon sucked in a ragged breath, Ellyssa swung her mental door open. Images and emotions filed in, one fading into another, a blend of past and present.

First, instant recognition of Rein when he’d barreled in the room. Rein grabbing him off the chair and slamming him repeatedly against the wall. Fear, confusion and betrayal. Trista had assured him he’d be accepted.

The captain was infatuated with Trista. Blonde hair and blue eyes, Trista could blend so easily into society. Yet, Trista was part of the Renegade camp. If Dyllon hadn’t helped her, Trista would’ve been amongst the exterminated, captured or lying dead in a pool of blood back at the cavern, like so many of the Renegades.

The picture shifted.

Males and females dressed in black riot gear, armed. Darkness, then flashes of light. Shots fired, screams of terror. A river of crimson, thick and flowing. Men, women, and children falling to the ground, eyes glazed over in permanent accusing stares.

Guilt saturated Dyllon, wiping free the fear and confusion. He hadn’t pulled a trigger; his eyes stayed glued to the macabre, unable to step forward and stop the madness.

Through the captain’s mind, Ellyssa lived the horror, feeling Dyllon’s repulsion. Her friends and family gunned down without mercy. Bile bubbled in her midsection. She wanted to stop looking but couldn’t, just like when she’d been drawn to the toddler down in the cavern that was now a tomb.

Finally, the captain’s gaze shifted to Trista. Like a tether broke, Ellyssa slammed the mental door, cutting off his thoughts. Trying to blink away the nightmare she’d just seen, Ellyssa shook her head. She looked up.

Rein stood over her, his eyebrows pinched together over the bridge of his nose and arms crossed over his chest. Woody was behind him with the same expression, his hand locked around Trista’s arm; her blue eyes had narrowed to angry slits.

Standing, Ellyssa nodded once. Rein’s and Woody’s postures relaxed a little, but not completely.

Hesitantly stepping forward, Tim said, “Why don’t we all go into the kitchen?”

Ripping away from Woody’s grip, Trista ran to Dyllon and helped him to his feet. She faced Rein, her eyes like icy shards. “If you guys would’ve listened…”

Rein didn’t reply, his face set hard and angry.

“Are you okay?” Trista asked Dyllon.

Massaging the tender flesh where Rein’s fingers had dug in, Dyllon nodded. Trista helped him into the kitchen.

Sour moods cast an ugly grey over the yellow, covering the sunshiny ambience of the kitchen. Woody stood behind Captain Jones. Tim took the seat at the head of the table while Sarah went to Trista, who leaned against the counter. She patted the younger girl’s shoulder consolingly. Looking apologetically at Trista, whose eyes flashed dangerously, Ellyssa sat across from the captain.

“Start talking,” Rein said, plopping into the seat next to Ellyssa.

“I can’t believe how you’re treating him,” Trista mumbled.

Rein and Woody both glanced at her, but neither commented. The tension in the kitchen thickened, almost suffocating.

For a moment, Dyllon didn’t say anything. He just massaged the sides of his neck as he stared at Ellyssa, then Rein. Finally, he set his hand on the table and cleared his throat. With him calmer, Ellyssa locked onto his mind. If he told one lie, she would finish Rein’s job.

“There’s a lot to tell you,” he said, grimacing with each word. Finger-shaped marks shaded his neck.

Leaning back in his chair, Rein crossed his arms over his chest. His jaw worked nonstop. A vein pulsed in his temple.

“It was awful.” The captain closed his eyes and swallowed, loudly. He massaged his neck. “I’d never witnessed anything like it,” he said. “Before, we captured Renegades and sent them to concentration camps. I had never been on the front lines.” He opened his eyes, his expression apologetic. “Children, women…”