Flight (17 page)

Dawn. I awaken gasping for air, sweat dripping from my neck. I’m alone in the room surrounded only by scattered papers that mean nothing. Asher’s gone.

Despite my new knowledge of Valhalla and its plans, I’m still fumbling through the dark for the root of what’s happening. The resistance is still new and is grasping at the straws of their M.O. And which side does Myra truly rest on? I’ve been hearing everything but learning nothing. It’s time for a visit to Myra Elder’s office.

I wait until the stars in the Holo-sky have just begun to dim, signalling early morning. I take the stairs through the Corp building up to level eight, avoiding all possible camera angles. As expected, there’s a guard standing before the entrance to the offices and work rooms. Luckily, I know this guard, his name is Frank and I’m one of the only Hunters who’s actually nice to him, and I have a plan.

He yawns widely just before he catches sight of me. He cocks an eyebrow.

“Bit early, don’t you think, Piper?” he states. I throw on a slightly embarrassed smile and stand close to him, like I’m sharing a secret.

“The thing is, Frank, I’ve got some reports due today and I’ve been a bit busy. If I don’t finish them I’m going to get chewed out really bad. If I start now I can have them finished by morning,” I plead. I wait as he licks his lips, thinking. I really don’t want to take the alternative route and have to knock him out. He’d surely remember and then there really would be some retribution. But I’ve caught him at a good time. He shrugs and gestures for me to head on through. “Thanks,” I whisper as I pass him.

“Don’t let me regret it,” he mumbles in reply. With my plan being a success, I strut down the long hallway and around the corner. I reach Myra’s door, and am prepared to use a fake key-card I’ve jigged, but when I turn the handle, the door opens on its own. I step into the office cautiously—the office where Myra is sitting at her desk, looking at me expectantly. I stare at her for what feels like a year, chewing on my lower lip and trying to come up with something to say, while she simply looks at me, her expression never wavering. But what kind of excuse could get me out of this mess? I’m about to turn and run away, pretending it never happened when she speaks.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Piper,” she says.

My head’s praying that this is just a dream. Please, just be a dream.

“I don’t know what to say,” I admit. She beckons for me to take a seat.

“You don’t need to say anything. I know Central sent you here to spy on me. It was only a matter of time before you came here to snoop around. So let me ask, what exactly were you looking for?” she asks.

The calmness of her voice is slowly driving me insane. So even
she
thinks I’m reporting to Central.

“Files. Information, anything to help me out,” I say honestly, “but not for Central. I’ve reported nothing to Rupert, nor do I plan to.”

Her mouth sets into a straight line framed by smile wrinkles as she ponders. I wonder if she believes me, but she ignores my statement.

“You won’t find anything more incriminating than what you already know,” she says.

“And harboring Harpy royalty isn’t enough?” I mutter.

“While I’m honored that you haven’t reported anything about this to Central, I’m also very confused. Where, exactly, do your loyalties lie?”

“I don’t know,” I reply, “I’m kind of caught between a lying traitor and an untrustworthy President who thinks I’m not strong enough to handle real work anymore.”

“Do you really think I’m the only one who’s lied to you?” Myra says sternly.

A lump rises in my throat, and I’m brought back to the ominous file with my name on it. “I’m not so sure anymore.” I look at her as if to say
tell me everything you know
. I want to appear strong, but my desperation seeps through. I
need
to know what Central’s been hiding from me, and for how long.

“Tell me, how long have you known about the possibility of a vaccine?” she begins.

My brows furrow. Is this a trick question? “I was told about it by you,” I state.

“And all throughout your training and your work you’ve never been told about this threat?”

I shake my head, no.

“Lies. The Corporation has known about this for years, we just haven’t been able to obtain any credible evidence until recently,” she says.

“Why would they keep that from us?” I ask, my voice sounding a little too frightened, a little too paranoid.

“I’d imagine for the same reason they lied about your brother’s death,” she quips.

I chew down hard on my lower lip, tasting the tinny blood in my mouth. Please don’t bring him into this. I don’t know if I’m ready to hear this, even if deep down I already know.

“Tell me Piper, were you told about the medical testing David was undergoing?” she asks.

Her voice is cutting into me like a knife now, and I shake my head, trying to quiet the sobs threatening to release themselves. She sighs before beginning, as if it’s painful for her as well.

“This is the truth about David Madden’s death. The scientific team at Central was performing trials on him, giving him shots of what was to be called
Enaprin
, a drug designed to give the Hunter a certain set of advantages. Nano-machines were designed and placed into his bloodstream, giving him quicker speed, heightened senses, and the ability to regenerate cells faster than normal. Do you have any idea how they created this drug?”

I don’t have to answer. Harpy blood. They put Harpy blood into David’s system.

“The Nano-machines were used to offset any reaction caused by the Hunter blood already present in David. The only problem was that any severe stress on his mind or body could activate the blood, causing it to mix.”

“We got into a fight. I hit him,” I say quietly, tears readily streaming down my face.

“And the blood mingled, causing an adverse reaction. The same kind of reaction we see when we pierce a Harpy’s skin with our modified weapons. So, you see, Piper. Your trustworthy friends, your loyal colleagues, everyone you worked with day by day are at fault. They were the ones who killed him,” Myra sneers, her face twisting with contempt.

I sink to the ground, and it gets harder to breathe as the truth settles into my bones. It was the Corporation all along. Everything comes rushing back to me, David convulsing on the ground until his body faded to ash, my mother’s warning, “Don’t trust them”, David constantly shooting himself with that little needle. It all makes sense. Who can I trust? Who’s really my enemy? The Harpy, or Elder Corp? Why would David agree to do a med trial and not tell me?

“What do you want from me?” I ask Myra finally. She’s still at her desk, staring at me, watching me break, and probably enjoying it.

“I want you to join me,” she says.

“In what respect?” I ask. This is the truth I’ve been looking for, isn’t it? This is why I came here, so why is my body still quivering?

“I mean that Elder Corp is running out of control. The testing and technology they’re creating is becoming an abomination, and I don’t trust a single one of them,” she explains. The figures on the financial reports rush back to me, all of that spending on genetic research, bioengineering.

“So you want to overthrow the Corp,” I state. It’s not really a question, I just want to hear the answer from her personally.

“I merely want the truth to come out, and I want Rupert Elder to…retire. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories about my husband. The truth is that Rupert and his band of Corporation lackeys poisoned him themselves because they were so resistant to change. This Corporation was my birthright; I simply want to take back what is mine.”

My teeth clench. She wants to assassinate the President, her
brother
. I’m silent, trying to contemplate whether or not she’s completely insane.

“It’s okay for you to think on it, Miss Madden. I understand it’s a lot to ingest all at once. Go home, get some rest and enjoy yourself at the Banquet. I’ve upped security and hidden all of the files that don’t need to be seen in case my dear brother insists on looking for them. And I already know you’ve been speaking with my little task-force, but I’d like it if you kept this conversation to yourself for now. Don’t think on it too long, because I’ll be awaiting your answer. By the way, watch out for that Nelson boy. Rupert’s had him under his claws since you came here,” she says, then nods, dismissing me.

I wander out of the office just as the sun’s rising, more dazed than ever, but determined to figure out the truth, no matter what it takes.

I stumble home, the cracks in the sidewalks blurring as I struggle to keep my emotions at bay. But there’s only so long you can quell all that pain. Eventually it has to be set free. I’ve always been the strong one, always had to be the strong one, but I can’t do it anymore. I break down as soon as I enter my apartment. Shelley’s gone for the night, so I drag my sobbing body into the bathroom and turn on the shower, letting the water pour over me, soaking through my clothes, willing it to wash everything away. I sit down in the corner of the stall and let the water pour over my eyes and fill up my mouth. Memories of the past flash through my head, some clear, others cloudy. I can even let out a slight chuckle through my shivering teeth. It’s true what they say: the truth hurts more than lies.

I’m thoroughly drenched and numb when the shower curtain flies open. I’m so cold I don’t even have time to react, I just stare as Asher finds me, his bright eyes filled with concern.

“What are you doing here? Shit, this water’s cold, and you’re all wet. Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he says. He steps into the stall and shuts off the water, easily lifting my sopping body.

“How did you find me?” I ask as he sets me down on the linoleum floor and starts looking for towels.

“Your smell,” he calls from the cupboard in the hallway, “it travelled through the pipes.”

My smell? I lay out on the floor, willing the numbness to remain as my body warms.

“What do I smell like?” I murmur. Asher returns with some towels and wraps them around me. He sits me up and shakes me gently.

“Stay awake,” he says, “your body temperature’s too low.”

I open my eyes wide to prove that I’m not going to pass out. His body heat rubs against me and licks my skin like kittens. His hair is damp and hangs over his eyes as he adjusts me.

“You never answered. What do I smell like?” I repeat.

He raises his gaze to me and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear.

“You smell like the ocean,” he replies, “now you answer me. What are you doing here in the middle of the night in a freezing shower?” I sigh, unwilling to give in that I was wallowing.

“I needed to know something. Then I found out and I couldn’t take it. I wanted to wash it all away,” I say incoherently with teeth chattering.

Asher raises his eyebrows and lets out a chuckle. “You were snooping, then?” he says.

“I needed to know.”

Asher wraps himself tightly around me and I sigh in relief at his warmth. He inhales sharply, like he’s about to speak, then stops.

“What?” I ask.

“I don’t like seeing you with him,” he says, his voice slow and coarse. He must have been watching me, and saw me having lunch with Tor.

“I can’t ignore him,” I whisper.

Asher’s eyes widen and his body tenses. “Because you love him? Because he isn’t a monster?” he quips.

“No. I don’t love him, and you’re not a monster, Asher. He’s been reporting all of my actions to Central. If he suspects anything, well, I don’t know what could happen,” I say. Letting the Harpy Prince fold himself around me is enough to warrant treason in Central’s eyes, maybe even death, and my tight-lipped conversations with Rupert won’t help anything if he finds out.

“You were gone in the morning,” I say, referencing the last time we were together. Even though my body is warm, I still let Asher hold me. I try to memorize the feeling of his touch.

“I was scared,” he whispers finally. I wiggle around to face him. His gaze is locked on the floor.

“Of me?” I ask.

He shakes his head, lips curling into a grimace. “No. Of myself. What I feel. How I feel about you. Knowing that it’s wrong, immoral, illegal. But I can’t push it away. I’m sorry.”

I bring my hand to his face, rubbing my thumb across his cheek. His skin is so smooth.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I just wish—”

“Shh,” he whispers, planting his finger on my lips, “We don’t have to talk about it right now, just promise me you’ll save a dance for me at this big party of yours.”

I nod as I untangle myself from his embrace. “I promise.”

He grips my hand as I turn to leave and locks his eyes with mine.

“I’ll find you,” he says. I squeeze his hand tightly.

“I’ll be waiting.”

“You can’t be serious,” I say to Grier as she comes out of the bathroom in her apartment in the Corp building. She’s fully decked out in a black and white checkered ballroom gown, complete with a matching masque covered in feathers. Her ebony hair is twisted on top of her head and her lips are painted bright red, contrasting the gentle white strokes of pale makeup over her face. She places her hands on her hips and glares at me while I smother laughter.

“What’s wrong with it?” she asks.

“Nothing. Don’t you think it’s a little over the top, though?” I point out. She shakes her head, a smile appearing on her lips.

“I’ve never been to the Elder Corp Banquet before. This is the first chance I’ve had to really dress up, so I’m going all out,” she points out. I look down at my own simple black gown and frown.

“So you think I’m dressed too simply?” I ask her. She nods and her eyes light up like a kid’s in a candy store.

“No,” I answer before she can say anything.

“Please, Piper?” she pleads, “I have a ton of outfits that would look amazing on you.”

I look at myself in the mirror again, sighing at the stark contrast between our two dresses. I groan, disgruntled, and throw my hands in the air.

“Fine. Do what you want with me,” I say. Cue the freaking movie montage music.

When I’m finished, I’m strapped into an emerald green taffeta ball gown with black lace adorning the sleeves and collar line. It’s tight in the bodice and the skirt is an enormous bubble. I turn to face the mirror, overcome by the mountains of lace.

“I look ridiculous,” I state, pulling the dress up past my knees to show the enormous heels I know I won’t be able to walk in.

“No you don’t, you look amazing!” Grier gushes from behind me. She hands me a green masque fully equipped with feathers and lace to complete the outfit. I sigh as I strap it onto my face, checking out my reflection once more. I’m surprised. With the masque on, I can’t see my features, and in the mirror there seems to be a beautiful young woman dressed for a ball. Put a smile on my face and I might even look charming.

Shelley barges in just as I’m spritzing on a bit of perfume, and gasps.

“You look fantastic,” she says.

Shells looks pretty good herself in a lavender gown covered in purple and pale yellow flowers.

“It’s Grier’s,” I say, “You’re sure I don’t look stupid?” She shakes her head vigorously and seats herself on Grier’s couch. She squeals when the other girl comes in, drinks in hand, and they complement each other profusely before getting seated, wine glasses spread around.

“What should we toast to?” Grier asks. I shake my head as they look my way. I’m already itching to get out of this dress.

“I’ll do the toast. To Grier, for kindly hosting us in her apartment; to Piper, whose expertise will make the resistance shine; and to me, for supplying the wine,” Shelley says. We clink glasses and swig back our drinks, and the smiles on my friends’ faces warm me like a hazy bubble. Grier pours herself another glass.

“Alright. No shop talk tonight, girls—tonight is about having a good time and forgetting about all the crap that we do in real life. Agreed?” she says. We both nod and clink our glasses again.

Shelley leans forward. “So, Grier, I need to ask you this. Why do you live in the Corp building?” she asks.

Grier yawns as if it’s old news. “I’ve got no parents, and it’s cheap,” she replies, then takes a generous sip. I sit silently, unsure how to follow up this statement. I know Grier well enough now that she doesn’t want and won’t take any sympathy. And though we’d agreed not to talk about our work, it seems to be the only thing on everyone’s mind.

“Your Chief from Central’s going to be there, Piper,” Grier says finally.

I groan loudly. “Don’t remind me. After all that’s happened, he’s the last person I want to see,” I say, though they don’t understand how very serious I am. How am I supposed to look my brother’s killer in the eyes?

“Just keep it up like you have been, and he won’t suspect a thing,” Shelley chimes in warmly.

But I really don’t know. We carry on, sip our wine and gab about anything until the time comes to leave. I inhale deeply and check my reflection one last time. Tonight I have to be the old Piper; close to Tor, and most of all, loyal to Rupert.

“Let’s go, or we’re going to be late!” Shelley trills out excitedly. My body’s buzzing from the wine, and even though the night’s sure to be filled with uncomfortable awkwardness, I’m kind of excited. I check myself in the mirror once more as Grier and Shelley leave before me. I want to arrive alone, so I wait a few minutes before leaving, but no sooner than I exit the apartment I’m barraged, a bag thrown over my head as I’m pushed and shoved into another room down the hall. I kick out in frustration, elbowing and punching my invisible attackers. I hear one cry out in pain and think I might have made it when everything stops and the bag is ripped from my head. After the shock of the light to my eyes adjusts, the room wobbles into place. My attackers are two goons standing behind me, one wincing slightly. It cheers me to see the other has a broken nose.

“You weren’t kidding when you said she was tough, boss,” one of them grunts. In front of me stands someone who I assume is their
boss
. Sleeved in a perfect three-piece suit, imitation alligator shoes that must have cost a fortune and casually puffing his cigar, Rupert Elder narrows his eyes at me. Beside him is his assistant Charlene, wearing a gown shaped like a skirted suit, and chic, pointed glasses.

“Hello, Piper,” he drawls, smoke lingering from his mouth.

“Rupert,” I say with a nod. Without thinking I fix my dress, making sure there are no rips or tears in Grier’s gown. I can barely look him in the eyes. All I can think about is how much I want to strangle him right now. The image of my hands around his neck is too tempting.

“You haven’t been conferencing with me much lately,” he says. Charlene is already furiously typing notes into her palm-screen.

“Is that the reason you had your monkeys here drag me into a private room?” I ask with a sneer. The one with the broken nose kicks me in the back of the knee, making me wince. Rupert softens, putting out his cigar and raising out his arms in a truce.

“Now, now, pet. I’ve simply been worried about you. I get very little correspondence from this end and I never know if you’re truly okay,” he says.

“I’m fine,” I reply stoically. This time he doesn’t play nice. His eyes burn over with anger and he rushes toward me, wrapping an ape-like hand about my neck and slamming me into the wall. He puts his nose to my nose, and the stink of his cigar makes me gag.

“You listen to me, you little bitch. I hear one word that you’re in with my sister and I’ll have you killed faster than you can count to ten. Tor tells me every little detail, including who you’ve been friendly with. You’re either on my side, or your head is mine. Do you understand?” he growls.

I hold strong, not letting his threats get to me. “You’ve got it,
boss
,” I manage to squeeze out. He lets go of me, shakes the tension from his hand and allows a quaint smile to return to his face.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? You swore your Hunter oaths to me. I made you.
Don’t you remember
?” he says. He chuckles, his gruff voice sinister as he summons his minions to follow him out the door, leaving me alone and panting in the room, with frustrated tears in my eyes and nowhere left to turn.