Winter's Legacy: Future Days (Winter's Saga Book 6) (3 page)

4  For the Greater Good

“Sir, Kylie Monroe, here.”

“Kylie, my dear, what news?”  Dr. Kenneth Williams was sitting in a lavish hotel room and had been staring at a picture of his beloved daughter June, feeling the effects of opiates he ingested fifteen minutes before.  He forced himself to focus on the conversation through the drugged haze.

“Sir, he’s been cleared to return to the States in two to three days.”

“Well, that changes things, doesn’t it?  Hmm.”  Williams stood slowly, allowing his equilibrium time to steady before walking back toward the spa-like bathroom.  Brackish blood remaining in the sink looked to have stained not just the granite countertops, but the plush cream rugs splayed across the tiled floor. 

“Yes sir.” The frown forming in Kylie’s brow was deepening.  In her mind’s eye, she kept seeing Evan’s face when she effectively blew him off not more than an hour ago.

“Tell me, have you gotten him to share about his evolved gift?” he asked eagerly.  He still hadn’t bothered to look at his image in the ornate mirror above the bloody sink.  He already knew what he looked like and how desperately he needed his daughter’s curative blood.  The evidence of that desperation lay in shriveled chunks near the drain.

“Yes, sir.” The girl forced herself to focus on delivering the intel with efficiency as she had been trained. “The altercation in Flagstaff happened right during his evolution, shaping his gift around the scars the burns created.”

“How so?”  Williams’ voice rose an octave with excitement, a smile beginning at his misshapen lips displaying more signs of decay inside his rancid mouth.

“He is a light and fire manipulator.  The scarred hand can trap any source of light, harness its energy and redirect it.”

“Fascinating,” the scientist breathed.  He was looking down at the black blood caked under his formerly manicured fingernails.

“That’s not all.  He can also absorb fire back into himself.”

“Really?  Did you see him do these things?”  Williams reached into his pocket for his metallic orbs and began rolling them thoughtfully in his hand.

“I did, sir.”

“How dangerous do you think he is with his gift?”

“I believe he’s only learned a fraction of what he
can do were he to embrace it, but he’s too afraid of hurting others to embrace it.  He sees the gift as a curse to be contained.”

“Beautiful!” Williams laughed
.  Bloody spittle flew from his mouth and splat on the mirror, catching the doctor’s attention.  The deterioration his fragile skin displayed was occuring more rapidly than his scientists had predicted.  The laugh stuck in the throat of the monster staring back at him through milky, black eyes.  He turned away quickly leaving the macabre scene to be cleaned by Stanly Marks, his manservant. 

“Sir, he’s not a threat to anyone but himself.”

“You don’t know that, Kylie,” his voice flipping from syrup to razors instantly.

“I’ve spent time with him, sir.  He’s opened up to me.  I don’t feel he poses a threat to the Metahuman way of life.”  The young female offered meekly in the face of her Director’s changed temper.

“You’ve only known him for a week?  I’ve known him all his life.  I know the people with whom he associates—the people he calls ‘family’.  They have one goal: To expose and destroy Metahumans and our way of life at The Facility.   You read his dossier.”

“I did.  It just doesn’t seem to match the Evan Winter I know.  He cares too much about life to be part of a group whose goal is genocide.”  Remembering Evan’s intelligent, soulful eyes gave her courage to speak.

“Has it ever occurred to you that he has been brainwashed?  Deep down, there may have been a good person in there somewhere, but his actions are those of a cold-blooded killer.”  The Director’s tone was decidedly one of righteous indignation.   Kylie didn’t dare interrupt.

“When reading the do
ssier Miss Monroe, did you ignore the destruction he personally caused at our research hospital?  Do you need further reminding of the metahuman body count from that night?  His actions were appalling!”

“I read the file, sir.” She nodded, tears springing to her eyes at the memory. 

Her survivor’s guilt was tremendous as she had spent the entire day at the hospital and had just gotten off duty little more than an hour before the building’s invasion and subsequent destruction. 

She remembered clearly the events of that day. She and four other doctors worked to prepare the newest recruits, twenty children, for their exposure to the Infinite Serum. 

The process was always the same.  The subjects arrived in the predawn hours at the hospital’s loading dock in one cargo-load.  Even as they were removed from the transport vehicles, they were immediately assessed for sustainability.  Those who survived transport were sent on to a thorough physical evaluation.  After passing the preliminary exam, the subjects were inked with a unique Meta number for cataloging purposes.   Once dosed, the subjects needed constant monitoring to see whether their bodies would reject the serum.  The first twenty-four hours were crucial.  Doctors, such as herself, worked in shifts to stay in constant contact with each subject’s assimilation progress.  Those who survived were branded with the infinite symbol and sent to the recovery wing of the hospital. 

After the first week, the new metahumans were sorted.  Some stayed on and, depending on their age, began their training as cadets at the Facility.  Others were transported to another facility in the
U.S. where Monarch conditioning began under the supervision of Senator Donovan Arkdone.

After that fateful night in May, the entire Facility was in mourning for a week as every surviving metahuman, from the youngest cadet to the most seasoned instructor, worked tirelessly to locate the bodies of the fallen by sifting through the rubble piece by piece. Each grave was dug by hand. 

The Director made sure the surviving metahumans knew exactly who to blame for the “senseless deaths.”  If there ever was a doubt as to the intentions of the “Original Three,” as they were known throughout the Facility, it was smeared red with the blood of those caught in the hospital’s annihilation.

“We have a score to settle here, Kylie.   Not only must we avenge our murdered brothers and sisters, but we need to stop this faction from ever hurting us again.  Knowing our enemy’s weapons and how they plan to use them against us is essential.  You have been entrusted with the task of uncovering this intel and thus far, you’ve performed your duties with unilateral effectiveness.  Do not fall into that boy’s web of lies, Kylie Monroe.  You know who you are and what you stand for!”  His words resonated deep in the young
metahuman’s heart. 

“Yes, sir.” Kylie looked up to see Captain
Rais, the senior instructor posing as her father, watching her from the far end of the living room.  His cold eyes narrowed.  He’d been listening the entire time.

“Was there any further information you gathered that may be of use?  Did you
learn what Evan was working on in the lab?” Williams took a slow, deep breath, the effects of the opiate forcing him to return to his chair.

“No, sir.  He was very protective of his work.” Kylie’s eyes were locked on her sergeant.  They had many discussions
of how much she should push Evan into divulging the nature of his research.  The secret had become a sore subject between them.

“Sir, knowing my primary objective was to learn of his evolved gift, I have never found an opportunity where this secondary intel was going to be ascertained without jeopardizing my position.  Essentially, he allowed me to wash beakers for him.  That’s all.”

“I see.”  Williams knew she was lying.  She was too clever not to have gotten at least a cursory understanding of Evan Winter’s work.   “Where is the boy now?”

“Sir, he’s headed back to his family’s home.”  Kylie cringed.

“You were to detain him for interrogation, Monroe!” Williams’ anger flared beneath the narcotic fog.

“Yes, sir.  We got into a—” Kylie hesitated.

“Into a what?”

“There was a miscommunication.  He decided it was best to go home.” Kylie was wincing waiting for the worst of her Director’s fury.

“This bit of information should have been the first thing you told me.  Thanks to you, we’ve wasted precious time.  Put Rais on the phone.  Now!”

“Yes sir.” Kylie peeled her white-knuckled grip from the phone and held it out to her sergeant who yanked it away angrily.

He turned his back to Kylie and spoke his greeting to his superior in clipped tones.  His back was rigid as he listened.  Kylie knew she didn’t have much time.  Now that her intel was delivered, leaving the Director unsatisfied, she knew what would come next and she didn’t want to stand around to wait for it to happen. 

On silent feet she turned and slipped to the kitchen, grabbed the car keys that always hung from a hook by the back door, and turned the knob.  Hurriedly, she ran to the unassuming four-door and yanked the handle, begging for a soundless escape.  

  In her mind, she knew words like “compromised” and “incompetent” were thrown around like projectiles in the conversation between Williams and Rais.  She needed to get out of there now. 

She jammed the keys in the ignition and started the car, then turned around in her seat to back out of the carport only to slam down on the brak
es when she caught a glimpse of her Captain’s enraged face directly behind her.  His eyes were glowing red from the brake lights.  She watched as he raised his weapon.  Everything moved in slow motion as she tracked the red dot of the gun’s laser sight crawling up the car’s trunk to the back of the passenger seat before settling directly on her face, blinding her. 

She didn’t have time to think.  Her survival reflexes took over.  She ducked and floored the car in reverse, not stopping to assess damages as she heard bullets shattering glass and piercing metal.   

Rais was furious at the girl for trying to escape.  He leaped to the side of the oncoming vehicle and landed hard on the rough desert landscaping that surrounded the houses in the area.  He continued to fire at the girl even after his gun was spent, raging at her for making him fail the Director for the first time in his long career.  

This isn’t over,
he growled at the disappearing taillights. 

***

Kylie was trying to catch her breath as she sped past the University of Cairo campus.  Her ears still rang with the sound of gunfire.

A barrage of thoughts darted like a humming bird through her mind.  Cool night air spilled in from the shot-out windows and caressed her face, as though coaxing memories from her. 

Since she completed her medical training at the Facility a year ago, she had dosed dozens of subjects with the Infinite Serum.  It was her job, all she knew and just a way of life. 

She wasn’t supposed to think of the subjects as anything other than empty vessels waiting to become Metahumans.  She wasn’t supposed to worry about what happened to the vessels that didn’t survive.  As far as she had been taught, the subjects were only of value after proving their capacity for enhancement. Only metahumans mattered.

That’s what she repeatedly reminded herself even after the nightmares became more intense leaving her sleep deprived and traumatized.  The look in their eyes haunted her.  She tried not to make eye contact, just as she’d been trained.  She tried to mute their cries for help as though they were simply wails from howling dogs.  She tried, but it wasn’t working.  As the months dragged on, Kylie was becoming desperate to avoid duty on new recruit days.  

She felt trapped. 

She couldn’t talk to anyone about the guilt and trauma she was experiencing over the handling of the new recruits any more than she could have given up her designation as a Research Doctor in the Field of Metahumanology. Her path had been chosen for her and there was no way out. 

But, everything changed the night of the explosion. 

She was performing her duties with as much mind-numbing internalized anguish as ever when one of the subjects in her charge started to fail.  His death would be the third one on her watch.  She remembered feeling dizzy and nauseous with anger as this subject slipped past the point where his body shivered and his throat moaned in agony.  The serum was ripping through his DNA strands, recalibrating them one by one, but the subject’s body was fighting it. 

Kylie knew there was only one way this would end. 

The level of pain gripping this subject was nearing fatal.  Kylie had seen that Infinite mask of death before.  It was cruel and ugly.  Watching this, her third subject of the day, start to succumb was just too much. 

She’d been secretly calculating possible bridges that could increase the survivor rate of the newly dosed, but she had to do everything in her mind.  She couldn’t afford using anything that could be traced—no computers, no equipment, not even a piece of paper and pencil. 

In theory, she believed if the subject were given a precise dose of synthetic corticosteroids at just the right juncture, the anti-inflammatory would weaken the immune system enough for it to stop fighting the Infinite Serum’s hostile takeover. 

She watched the subject struggle to breathe, his lips turning
bluer by the second and she knew what she had to do.