Oblivion (18 page)

FORTY-FOUR

Jason

Sam was on the
move. The only unfortunate thing about that was he was heading in the wrong
direction. Oh… and there were other footsteps following him.

“We need to move,
Jason,” Agent Jones warned. “The guards are coming.” He held his gun at his
side, but was ready to react at a moment’s notice.

I pushed more of
the now loosened dirt toward the door.

“I can feel that,
thanks. Sam’s in trouble, so we can either run away or go in and help him. I
know which I’ll choose.” I glared at the other man in challenge.

Jones wilted a
bit. “You’ll soon learn that you know me better than that, Jason. I wouldn’t
leave Sam—or any kid, for that matter—in a dangerous situation.”

A quick glance
showed the clenched jaw and hard look in the eyes of the FBI agent. He was
clearly not ready to give up.

“Sorry. What’s the
plan, Ag-?”

“Mark,” he
interrupted.

“What?”

“You were about to
call me Agent Jones again. We’re friends. Call me Mark,” he ordered.

The ground swirled
around us and I nodded.

“Okay. What’s the
plan, Mark?”

“Use the dirt to
smash through the door. Then keep control of it to use against whatever guards
we run into.”

A tilt of my head
showed my doubt. Not only doubt if I could keep control of the dirt for the
entirety of the rescue, but also in the less-than-detailed plan.

“Without knowing
exactly what’s up with the Mastermind, or Puppet Master, or whatever you want
to call him, I can’t make a better plan,” Mark answered with a shrug. “The
guards could be innocents who have been trapped here. We need to make sure none
of them are seriously injured.”

“Not sure a
whirlwind of rock and dirt is the best way to keep them uninjured,” I
countered.

“Better than a
bullet.”

I nodded once in
acknowledgment. “All right; let’s go.”

I pushed my hand
forward, and the dirt and rock tornado suddenly shot toward the door in a
single rock-hard stream.

Mark whistled as
the door shattered under the onslaught.

“At least we
weren’t going for the subtle approach,” he commented wryly.

“Nope. That’s
Jeremiah’s job. Let’s make sure they all know we’re here.”

We marched into
the building accompanied by the dirt.

“It follows you
like a dog,” Mark observed. He eyed the spread out dirt in amusement.

I smiled at the
thought. “That gives me an idea.”

With a surge of
power, I forced the earth into the form of a large dog that trotted along
beside us.

“That’s cool,” the
agent said quietly. He watched the dirt dog for a moment, before he shook his
head and kept his eyes open for threats.

A quick footstep
check showed Sam heading away from where we were.

“This way,” I
pointed down the hall and the dog ran ahead checking for any guards in our
path.

The stone claws
clicked on the tile floors as the creature rushed through and I heard a huff of
air as it tackled a guard. The thump reverberated through the floor as the man
hit the ground.

“Good dog,” I said
as we walked past the guard with the dirt creature standing over his body.

The dog’s rock
teeth were bared in a silent snarl, and the guard lay unmoving.

“You can’t save
him,” the guard warned.

“Puppet Master, I
presume,” I said, standing over the downed guard.

The guard’s head
moved in a slight nod. He stopped short when the dog shifted on his chest.

“Your brother is
lost to you. The only way you can see him again is to join him here, with us.”

I stepped forward
and the dog’s mouth opened again, now showing hardened dirt sharpened into
knife-sharp points.

“You can’t stop me
from getting to him. Haven’t you figured it out yet? You may be able to control
normal people, but you can’t control others with abilities. Not for long,
anyway.”

“Have you ever
wondered
why
you are different,
Jason? Why you and your brother have abilities while your parents did not? I
have the answers you seek, but only if you join us.”

The idea of
knowing was attractive, but until he mentioned it, I hadn’t remembered anything
about my parents. Nothing other than what the others told me about an abusive
father, anyway.

“Nothing you say
right now will change anything,” I answered with a shrug. “I have no memory of
my past, remember? I have no history for you to mess with.”

“Blessing in
disguise, huh?” Mark asked, his eyebrow raised.

“Sure. Why not?” I
agreed mildly.

“I can help remove
the scar from your mind. Your brother doesn’t have the knowledge to do it. If
you let me in, I can repair the damage he did to you.”

Another tempting
offer. “I get the feeling my brother isn’t the only gifted manipulator around.
Thanks, but I’d rather trust a rattlesnake,” I stated matter-of-factly.

“I wouldn’t
recommend following us,” Mark warned as we began to walk away. “I don’t think
the dog likes you.”

With a final
silent growl, the dirt dog followed us down the hall.

“We need to
hurry,” I said, ignoring Mark’s concerned look.

“How can he
control so many people? I don’t understand. Everybody has limits, so what are
his?” Mark asked in exacerbation.

“No idea,” I
answered. “And right now, we can’t worry about it.”

We jogged down the
hall; the only noise was our footsteps and the quick tapping of the earth dog.

“Sam’s up ahead,
but there are several guards with him,” I informed the agent.

“Any idea where
Alice and Jeremiah are?”

I couldn’t sense
them immediately, so I knelt and pushed power through the floor to attempt to
feel the entire building. A shake of my head told Mark they wouldn’t be here
any time soon.

“Other side of the
facility,” I told him, my voice was tinged with regret. We could use the help
if we were about to have a run-in with armed guards.

Some of the
guards’ footsteps began to move toward our location.

“They know we’re
here. Our frontal attack may have been a mistake. The Puppet Master will not
let up, and he has Sam in his control,” I informed my partner.

“We’ll stop him,”
Mark assured me. “Get the dog some friends and take out the force around Sam.”

It wasn’t a bad
idea, but the one dog took quite a bit of concentration to maintain. “Might be
easier from the courtyard. Maybe we can try to herd them in that direction.”

A guard appeared
around the corner ahead of us, and paused at the sight of the large
earth-hound.

“All right; let’s
get my brother back.”

FORTY-FIVE

Jeremiah

We made our way
through the facility unhindered. Apparently, Jason’s distraction had worked.
Either that or the Mastermind wasn’t worried about us getting in. Perhaps it
would be getting out that was the problem.

As we jogged
through the empty halls, we noticed that everything seemed to have been packed
up. Some of the supplies I had noticed during my last visit here were no longer
in sight, and the formerly locked rooms had doors standing wide open.

“I think they’re
planning on relocating,” I informed the detective.

She nodded.
“Noticed that. It looks like some of the houses I’ve seen when suspects pack up
in a hurry.”

“They must have a
plan for taking Sam and Jason. I know the Mastermind won’t leave without them.
He seems oddly interested in their abilities.”

“Feeling left
out?”

There was an odd
tone to her voice. It took me a moment to recognize it as a playful or joking
tone.

“Funny. No. I am
perfectly happy not being on this guy’s wish list. I think he’s scared of what
I might do to him if he tries to take me again.”

“Nice try. More like he’s not pushing you
because he’s thinking you’re going to work for him and help him attain his
prize. Tempting, isn’t it?”

Shutting out my
inner voice was growing tiresome. While the Tracker’s friends were warming up
to me, I suspected the man himself would not.

“Are you okay,
Jeremiah?”

I turned to her in
surprise. “You’re honestly worried about me, aren’t you?”

She shrugged and
glanced away. “You… you’ve been trying to help. I know you’ve done horrible
things that we were never able to punish you for, but you were coerced for many
of them. And the ones you weren’t… you were still affected by what Mason did to
you.”

“You’re a rare
person, detective. Most in your line of work would see me as nothing more than
a killer to get off the streets in any way possible. You would what? Rehab me?
Make me into a productive member of society?” I asked, honestly curious.

Another shock
followed; she nodded.

“We obviously
wouldn’t be able to keep you in a cage,” she answered. “So the best option would
be to allow you to relearn what you were before the torture changed you.”

Footsteps echoed
through the empty hall and she stopped speaking.

“I know you’re
here, Jeremiah. I doubt Jason would have made so bold an entrance if he wasn’t
attempting to cover for you. Have you considered my offer?” A male voice
resonated through the hall.

The detective shot
me a look I couldn’t decipher, and I shifted.

“It’s nothing,” I
said.

We were invisible
and no one in the building should be able to see us. I was uncomfortably sure
that if the detective was aware of what the Mastermind had promised me, she
would see me as nothing more than a threat. Her talk of rehabbing me would
dwindle, and I would be the dangerous predator she’d always suspected I was.
Even if I refused the man’s offer, she would have to have doubts.

“Nothing?” The
voice was amused now, and a guard appeared in the hall in front of us. A smirk
crossed the man’s face and he spoke again. “I beg to differ, Kindred. I know
it’s what you’ve wanted for years. A chance to mold Jason into a person who can
accept you. A way for you to be his friend.”

Now the detective
glared toward the guard. “A real friend wouldn’t try to change Jason to fit his
needs.
Jeremiah
is doing it right. He
is trying to prove he can become a better person. He already has friends behind
him to help.”

“So to be Jason’s friend,
Jeremiah must change? You say a friend wouldn’t try to force a change, so why
must he be the one to alter his behavior to fit Jason’s needs?”

It made sense.
Perhaps the reason Jason and I could not have a real friendship was because in
order for it to happen, one or the other of us would have to completely change
our personalities.

“Perhaps you are
both right,” I offered. “I cannot be his true friend without a different
lifestyle…”

“Jeremiah,” the
detective interrupted, again stressing my name. “Don’t listen. You are able to
be a better person. Jason will come around.”

“
Or you could make him come around. It might
be faster to force him into a new pattern than to attempt to alter your own.”

Was it the
Mastermind or Kindred speaking in my mind? Did it matter? Both said the same
thing.

“Help me, and you
can have your friend,” the Mastermind promised. “You are a remarkable specimen,
Kindred. You shouldn’t need to water yourself down to please others.”

Something must
have shown on my face, because the detective began to back away from me. She
had her gun drawn and at her side.

“I will not hurt
you, detective,” I promised. “But if I were you, I’d put the weapon away.”

It was difficult
to pull my gaze from the wide-eyed fearful look the detective aimed my way, but
I had to. Once again faced with my darker half I pushed hard against the desire
for power that flowed through my mind.

“I made a promise
to help protect the Tracker and his brother from you. I will not go back on my
word. You may take that as my final say in the matter.”

The guard took a
step back. “Both parts of you are in agreement? That… I don’t understand.
Kindred has always wanted control.”

I smiled at the
first sign that the Mastermind was not all-knowing. He couldn’t tell what a
person would choose to do, and he couldn’t force me to go in the direction he
wanted.

“I am a man of my
word, regardless of which name you use. I will not betray those who have helped
me. That has never been in my character. If you were unaware of it, I am not at
fault.”

Parts of me still
yearned for control over the Tracker and his friends. Yet more now desired a
true friendship with the group. Despite everything I’ve put them through; they
still wanted to help me.

“I am indebted to
all of them. They are under my protection. So it would be a benefit to you if
you were to allow all of us to leave.”

Even before the
guard raised his weapon, I knew my proposal would go unheeded.

“Detective, if you
don’t want this man to die, we need to move.”

She blinked,
apparently surprised by my declaration of loyalty, but we rushed around the
corner toward another door.

“This place is
like a
freakin
’ maze!” the detective exclaimed.

“I believe Jason
is in the building,” I informed her. “We should attempt to reach them.”

She gave a quick
nod, just before I heard the thud of something hitting the wall beside me.

“RUN!” she yelled.

Three guards
carrying weapons rounded the corner. Another one fired, and I saw a dart
sticking out of the wall.

“
Tranq
darts,” I informed her. “Guess he doesn’t want to
kill potential test subjects.”

Another shot
proved me wrong when a chunk of wall flew past the detective’s head.

“Guess they only
want one of us alive,” she answered breathlessly.

We pushed our way
through a door and found ourselves in a room overlooking the torn up section of
the courtyard. There was a pang in my conscience at the visual reminder of
Jason losing control because of my actions.

“There’s Sam!” the
detective exclaimed, pointing out the window.

Down in the
courtyard Sam was backing out the door. The reason why became apparent quickly;
a guard followed, holding the teenager at gunpoint.