Oblivion (7 page)

FOURTEEN

Jason

I felt the
restraints before I was fully awake. The leather rubbed at my already raw
wrists, and I wanted to disappear the way my companion had. In all the loss of
life, I barely felt his movements. Then he was gone. Nothing indicated he had
ever been here, except for the fact that I could feel fewer guards on patrol.

My head throbbed,
and a groan slipped out. All I wanted to do was sleep for a week. And rub my
head to soothe the ache. The other person in the room with me guaranteed I
wouldn’t be able to continue sleeping. And I obviously wouldn’t be allowed the
freedom needed to give myself a head massage.

I had no desire to
face anyone after discovering what I could do. The power that took over
everything and could not be controlled.

Was this the
ability the Doctor wanted? Nothing about it seemed good. There was so much
destruction in such a short time, and nothing I could do about it.

Obviously my crazy
ability was triggered by extreme emotions. Jeremiah… he was a killer. How could
I be associated with such a person?

Voices startled me
as bits of conversation floated in from outside the door, “…incredible. …never
seen. …how many?”

Pulling at the
restraints, I cringed. As far as I knew they had no reason to connect me with
what Jeremiah did. They quite possibly would have no idea what had caused the
power to explode.

The door cracked
open, and the Doctor walked in. He ignored the guard in the corner of the room
and spoke to me.

“Jason,” his voice
was clipped, and my body tensed in response. “You did a lot of damage. Care to
tell me what you hoped to accomplish?”

Mouth suddenly
dry, I swallowed a couple times. The Doctor was staring at me, his gaze
unwavering, and his jaw clenched. “I…”

“What? Spit it
out. We were only about to do some mild testing, and you destroyed the entire
courtyard. I’ve been told there was some damage done to our building as well.”

Words refused to
come. Letting the Doctor know I could feel the heartbeats of his people as they
were being slaughtered didn’t seem wise. Telling him what I could do—especially
when
I
didn’t know exactly what I could do—also didn’t seem like a good
idea.

However, acting as
though I was cooperating could work to my advantage. “I was trying to distract
you so I could escape.” With a bitter laugh only partially faked I added,
“Apparently, not my best idea.”

Sneering, he
replied, “Putting it mildly, no. Not your best idea. The Boss wants to see you
punished for the damage you did, and honestly? I don’t see a good reason not to
let him.”

From the look in
his eyes, there was no good response to give, so I didn’t even attempt to
protect myself. “Nothing to say? Perhaps I’ll leave you to think about what the
Boss will do to you. We’ll pick up the testing again tomorrow, and I hope your
attitude has improved by then.”

He turned to
leave, and I found myself asking in a low voice, “Who are you people?”

Pausing for a
moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob, he answered, “That’s a long story,
kid. And one that won’t help you in any way.”

I opened my mouth,
wanting to follow up. To say that of course it would help to know who was
holding me captive. But something about how he said it made me hesitant to push
the subject. The Doctor waited a few seconds as if waiting for me to ask again,
but then walked out.

Great. Now I had
nothing left to think about besides what the Boss had in mind as a punishment.
And the fact that the one person I knew in this world—besides those holding me
prisoner—was apparently a cold-blooded killer.

Jeremiah, the
Boss, the Doctor, some kid called Oblivion, and a little brother I don’t remember.
These are the people who make up my world right now, and at least three of them
are untrustworthy. Jeremiah’s opinion of Oblivion I took with a grain of salt.
His actions were horrific, so how could he judge another person’s
trustworthiness?

As far as I could
tell, Jeremiah would still be my best chance to get out of here. He had
promised to come back. An occurrence I both dreaded and desired. What could
such a person want with me? How had this killer become a part of my life? All I
knew was he was my most likely rescuer.

Unless I could get
a handle on my powers; if I could access them purposefully, maybe I could
actually make a legitimate escape attempt. Obviously they were unprepared for
the extent of my abilities, so directing them to protect me as I made my escape
could work.

Of course if my
plan worked, I would still have nowhere to go. As far as I knew, this was the
only building in the area, and I would have to walk miles to get anywhere.

But the vibrations
travelling through the ground told me there was likely some sort of traffic.
Maybe I could find someone to help. Someone who
wasn’t
a psycho killer. But would that be safe for them? The people
here clearly wanted me as their prisoner. I couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t harm
someone for attempting to help me.

There was also the
thing they injected into my arm. How could I get it out of me? Anywhere I went,
they’d be able to follow unless it was removed.

I settled back
onto the thin pillow with a heavy sigh. What could I do? The only person I know
by a real name is a killer. The other two are the ones who kidnapped me, and
threatened to hurt me if I didn’t follow their agenda. If I managed to escape,
I could go to the authorities. One thing stopped my train of thought; if the
only man I know is a killer, what does that say about me?

FIFTEEN

Jeremiah

The child scared
me. It is embarrassing to admit, but is true nonetheless. The Tracker’s little
brother—the kid I had always dismissed as unimportant and uninteresting—ended
up being the one I feared. His threats worried me, and I wondered how much was
my own emotion, and how much was pumped up by his power to make the fear sink
in.

Even knowing the
kid’s abilities did not allow me to protect myself from them. I have some
mental shields in place, but the only time I’ve had to use them was to push Sam
out of my head. It worked at that point, but I had no guarantee I could prevent
more subtle prodding at my emotions. I was envious of Jason’s mental shields.
Although they too were unable to protect him from his brother’s power.

The brothers were
definitely an interesting pair. Jason had helped me, and managed to make me
want to change. For the last two years I hadn’t harmed a single person.
Instead, I chose to help them. It surprised me to realize that I actually
enjoyed using my powers to aid others instead of plotting ways to harm them.
All of the changes I made since meeting Jason were made with no adjustment in
my attitude by anyone but myself.

Sam so far had no
thought of trusting me, and he had harmed his brother more severely than I ever
did. How would the child react to seeing a blank look on Jason’s face instead
of happy recognition? Would he be able to contain his own emotional turmoil
enough to not push the excess onto someone else?

“What kind of
energy would you need to use to make everyone in that building see what you
want them to see?” Detective Farrow asked from behind me.

“It would take enough
energy that I don’t believe I would be able to help in any other way. There are
too many people to fool for long, and I would have to constantly change things
to hide whoever goes in to get him,” I answered. “And I wouldn’t be able to
guarantee that I could hold the illusion for long.”

“Long enough for
Jason to escape on his own?” she asked hopefully.

I nodded
thoughtfully, “Potentially. If he was already free of his restraints, I could
tell him when to move and he could make it out.”

The kid came and
stood beside the detective. “So it would be worth a try then?” he asked, hope
just as obvious in his voice as in the woman’s.

“We may not be
able to try right away,” I warned. “After Jason’s loss of control earlier, they
won’t trust him unrestrained for a while. They may not even take him out of his
room, and he won’t be able to get out unaided.”

“Can you sneak one
of us in? You managed to stay hidden for a while, right? So we know it can be
done.”

“It would add to
the risk, detective. I’m not certain I can, nor am I completely sure I can’t.”

Rolling her eyes
at my response, the detective spoke slowly. “Are you willing to try?”

“Something tells
me you won’t take no for an answer,” I answered wryly. “Yes. I will try. Who
will be going in?”

She tapped her
finger against the side of her leg thoughtfully. “You can direct us to the room
Jason is in, right? So it won’t matter who goes in?”

“Correct.”

“It will be either
Mark or I.”

The kid opened his
mouth, most likely to protest, but I answered, “I agree. Sam should remain with
me and monitor the emotions of everyone in the building. And Jason’s too. Keep
in mind, detective, he will not remember you, or Agent Jones.”

“So he won’t be
ready to trust us, right?”

Sam cleared his
throat uncomfortably and I narrowed my eyes at him, not willing to excuse what
he’d done. “Correct,” I bit out, my gaze not moving from the boy’s pale face.

“He’s still
Jason.” Sam’s voice was soft. “He’ll still be able to tell if you’re being
honest about wanting to help him. None of his abilities are gone; he just
doesn’t remember how to make them all work.”

“So how…?”

“Hey, what’s going
on out here?” the federal cop asked, coming up behind the detective.

“We’re discussing
options for retrieving the Tracker,” I answered brusquely.

The other man
glanced between Sam and me, his own eyes narrowing suspiciously. “And what are
we deciding?”

I gestured to the
detective to answer her… boyfriend’s question.

She huffed a bit
before explaining what we’d been discussing. “And, to finish my question, how
will he know to access our heartbeats to tell if we’re being honest?”

Raising his hand
slightly, Agent Jones answered, “He can’t help it.” In response to our
questioning gazes, he continued, “He told me once that it was an ability he
couldn’t control. That he couldn’t help but monitor people’s heart rates,
especially if they were near him. Honestly, I think he expected me to get mad
at him for it or something.”

“He would,” Sam
muttered softly. “With our father… I never got it as bad as Jase. Never was
sure why…” he shook himself and returned to the topic at hand. “No matter what
happened, our father made it our fault. I wasn’t with him long, but it still
sunk in a bit. Jason was with him, on his own, for years.”

No one spoke for
several seconds. Every one of the people in this room wished they could make
the man pay. And he was only one of the people who’d affected Jason. I smirked
a bit. Unlike the others in the room, I had managed to get rid of the worst
offender. Despite his lack of appreciation, I still got satisfaction from
removing Jason’s father as a threat.

The two law
enforcement officers looked at me and exchanged a glance. I grinned at their
obvious discomfort, knowing the self-satisfied grin had upset them. “You know
it was necessary for him to move on,” I told them.

Their disapproval
rolled off them in waves I could almost feel. It made me wonder what the strong
emotion would feel like to the kid. I turned toward him to ask, but he wasn’t
paying attention to us anymore.

“Something is changing.”
Sam… no… Oblivion, I corrected upon seeing his faraway gaze, spoke hesitantly.

Detective Farrow
and Agent Jones stopped glaring at me, and instead focused on the boy.

“What’s happening,
Sammy?” the detective asked. Despite her wariness about the boy’s powers, she
was definitely ready to use them as a resource. It was similar to how she’d
once used Jason’s abilities.

I wondered
sometimes how Jason felt about being used in such a way.

My musings were
interrupted when Oblivion answered the detective in a slightly dreamy tone. “Jason
has been terrified, but now he’s more… I don’t know, determined, I think. He
might be planning something.”

His eyes snapped
up to meet mine, suddenly right back with us. “We have to move before he does,
or we may not be able to find him again.”

SIXTEEN

Sam

Facing off with
Kindred was not what I had in mind for the evening—although it may end up being
more useful than my initial plan of sitting around uselessly trying to
interpret my brother’s emotions.

Frustration was
the main one I felt now, both from myself and from Jason. Apparently, his
attempt to plan an escape—or whatever he was actually doing—was not going as
smoothly as he wanted. My frustration came from the assassin’s clear desire to
wait until the situation was better known before going in to get Jason.

Concern was
another emotion coming through loud and clear. It was mostly directed at me by
Hannah and Alice. They had become concerned when I first approached the
assassin, and it had only grown when I actively threatened him.

My mouth twitched
in discomfort at the thought of worrying the people who were like family to me,
but I had no better course of action than to tell Kindred… Jeremiah—whatever he
wanted to call himself—what would happen if he attempted to keep my brother
from
me.

Would I follow
through on my threats? For the answer they only needed to look back and
remember what happened to Hunter. Threatening me or my brother is not conducive
to long term mental health. Physical health either, I mused. Jason has caused
his share of damage to prove coming for us is a bad idea. Too bad the criminals
haven’t gotten the memo yet, that coming for us is a bad idea.

Of course, I’d also
felt the disgust and disapproval from both Alice and Mark that was aimed at
Kindred. The man had killed my father. In some ways I was glad. He had deserved
to die for everything he put Jason through. I also had to admit that it was
nice to not have to look over our shoulders for the guy. His obsessive desire
to get Jason back had scared me for a long time. I had always been worried I
would lose my brother to my father, and be powerless to get him back.

Now my brother was
gone. It wasn’t my father who had him, but the powerless feeling was
threatening to overwhelm me. This group would not hurt my brother. I had to
push the others into getting him back.

Alice’s voice
suddenly raised, and for the first time I realized she was on the phone.

“How long ago?” she
asked. After a moment’s pause she sighed. “Dan, how did he even know where we
are?”

“What’s going on?”
I asked Hannah quietly.

She shrugged, and
we were resigned to waiting until Alice hung up.

“Fine. Thanks for
the heads up. We’ll see him when he gets here.” Alice hung up with an irritated
huff.

She looked at the
rest of us, realizing we’d all gone silent and were staring at her expectantly.
Sighing, she put her phone away and brushed some hair out of her face. “Paul is
on his way here,” she explained.

My eye brow
furrowed and my eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“From what he told
Dan he was sick of not being able to help. He and the other kids are your
family too, and he says he wants to be here for you and to help find Jason.”

Hannah shifted
uncomfortably and I felt the discomfort rolling off her in waves.

“You called him,”
I said.

“Yeah. Before I
came out here to see you guys I told him I would keep him updated. He made me
promise.”

Alice glared at
her sister. “You try talking Paul out of something,” Hannah snapped
defensively.

Rolling her eyes
slightly, Alice relented. “You may have a point.”

Apparently
satisfied, Hannah nodded and took a step back.

Paul coming would
be a good thing. He was always like a big brother to me, and helped me whenever
Jason wasn’t around. The last couple years without Paul and the others had been
hard. Jason and I lived with them on the streets for years, so to be suddenly
separated was difficult to get used to.

My honorary big
brother would be angry. We left him. Something Jason promised he would never
do. Paul would take Jason being in trouble personally. He was already plenty
upset by the fact that my brother hadn’t called him when Hunter took me. I
should have known he would fight to be here now that his protector and mentor
was missing.

“What about Ginny
and Jeffrey?” I asked. “Do they know what’s going on?

Hannah answered,
“I filled them in a bit. They basically know what happened with Hunter and that
Jason is missing.”

“How are they?” I
asked, a wistful tone in my voice.

The answer this
time came from Alice. “They’ve been doing pretty well. Jeffrey still has a hard
time with school, but with help he has improved. Both of them miss you and
Jason a lot, but they don’t let us criticize him for leaving.”

A small smile
crossed my face, and I huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, they wouldn’t take that well.”

After Jason
rescued the kids from horribly abusive situations and did nothing but protect
them from anyone who meant them harm, not one of those kids would speak a word
against him. Paul was the first of the kids Jason found, and was his
second-in-command. He might argue with my brother in private, but only rarely
would he speak against him in front of anyone. Although he would leap to
Jason’s defense without a second thought. Jeffrey and Ginny were just as
protective, but not as likely to speak out. They were more likely to shut out
anyone who spoke negatively about their guardian.

Alice and Hannah
both had fond smiles on their faces. “No, I guess they wouldn’t. Not after
everything they’ve been through with him,” Hannah agreed.

Keeping track of
our conversation became difficult as I felt a major flux in Jason’s emotional
state. My vision became unfocussed as I concentrated on my brother. He was on
high alert, and seemed overly focused.
What’s
going on, big brother?

Taking a deep
breath, I expanded my focus in an attempt to read the people around Jason. One
seemed angry; ready to burst with a fury I worried was aimed at my brother.
Another was cooler, more controlled. He seemed unflappable, but I could read
some tension deep down. Perhaps a little concern at dealing with someone with
Jason’s abilities? In theory he could squash them all like bugs, although I
doubted he would ever do that.

“Sam!” Alice spoke
loudly, shaking me a bit.

“What?” I snapped;
irritated that she broke the connection I was working hard to create.

She stepped back,
eyes wide. “We were talking, and you phased out. What happened?”

The muscles in my
face relaxed, and I wondered what I looked like to her initially. “I was trying
to figure that out,” I told her in a calmer voice. “Jason is getting ready for
something, but I have no idea what. One of the people near him is ready to do
something bad; the other is prepared to let it happen. I wish…” I trailed off,
looking at the scarred assassin in our midst.

My wish could come
true. “Kin… Jeremiah, I need you to contact Jason. Try to find out what he’s
planning.”

Uncharacteristically
hesitant, the man stuttered, “I… uh… I don’t think he wants to hear from me
right now. His loss of control directly correlated with my escape. I think he
knows exactly what I did to get out.”

“Let me be
perfectly clear,” I snapped, my words overly enunciated. “You
will
contact my brother. You
will
get him to tell you what he’s
planning. And you will do it
now
!”