Winter's Warrior: Mark of the Monarch (Winter's Saga 4) (5 page)

“What’s going on?  The lights went out and then I heard gunfire!” The girl’s gunmetal gray eyes never left Creed’s face, ignoring the other two fully armed soldiers behind him.

“Do you remember our conversation in the lab the other day?”  Creed’s words came
out rushed as he was unsure how much more time they had before other soldiers arrived.

“Of course.”  She answered in the same hushed voice, searching his eyes for answers.

“Well, I filled in the blanks.”

“Blanks?”

“I don’t have time to explain, Sloan.  I’m offering you a way out.  Will you come with us?” he asked earnestly, depending on her sense of right and wrong to control her decision.

“If I don’t, will you kill me?” she asked, stoically. 

“Of course not.” Creed glanced back at Evan and Farrow, making sure they weren’t pointing their guns at the small doctor. 

“You’re as free as you choose to be,” Creed offered.  He stepped back from the girl.

“Are you here to right the wrongs?” she asked and watched Creed’s facial expression to conclude his answer, even before he spoke. 

“I am,” Creed answered solemnly.

“Then I’m with you,” she countered.  With the trained eye of a scientist, she scanned both Farrow and Evan before nodding respectfully to both.  This all happened inside of five momentous seconds before she moved herself into the middle of the soldiers without further question.

Evan found himself staring at the girl whose eyes locked decisively on his, as though she could read his innermost thoughts.  Evan felt like a microbe in the sites of a scope.  It both fascinated and startled him.

He broke the connection, looking away. 

“Stay with us, Sloan, and we’ll get you out of here,” Creed muttered softly, eyes fixated on the same door from which the girl had just exited.  “She’s nearly here.”

Before the young doctor could ask who they were waiting for, the door inched open.  Out spilled long, dark curls first, then the shining, dark eyes of a girl.

“Meg?” Evan breathed even as his sister’s small, powerful frame slipped out of the slit she’d allowed the doorway.

In a flash, Meg’s dark eyes brightened as she leaped across the hallway to hug Evan—relief washing over both.

“Oh, thank God, Evan!” she whispered into his shoulder.

Evan wrapped his gangly arms around his sister, who stood several inches shorter, but carried herself as if she were a giant. 

Behind her came another, a male
who was bleeding from head wounds and was bare-chested.  Dark bruises stood in shadowed contrast against his muscular torso. 

Having studied metahumans scientifically, Sloan found herself comparing his well-developed physique to Creed Young’s.  Creed was truly amazing in his size and strength, but this meta wasn’t too far behind him.  She wondered if he had also been exposed to a different version of the Infinite serum.  

Creed watched as Alik’s eyes locked onto Evan and Meg.  Oblivious of everyone standing and watching, the meta sprinted across the hallway and enveloped the two in his muscular arms in what could only be described as a touchingly sweet embrace.  Sloan watched in amazement as she saw what looked like a wild canine with a bloodstained muzzle trot across the hallway and push his way to the center of the three, licking any hand that reached down to rub his alert ears.

Creed’s e
yes watered slightly but he blinked all emotion away before he turned to explain.  “Sloan, this is Meg, Alik and Evan Winter—and their coyote, Maze.  These are the metahumans, the siblings, I chose to side with during my last assignment.”  Each of the Winter children turned to nod at the tiny, gray-eyed, blonde as they were introduced.

“Everyone, this is Dr. Sloan Mor.”

Sloan could only stare in silence, astounded by the emotion she saw displayed among the three metahumans.  Having grown up at the Facility, she’d never seen affection displayed in this manner—ever.  It was mesmerizing.

“Thank God you’re okay,” Meg’s attention was drawn back to her brothers, her voice muffled as she alternately buried her face into the chests of the two males she embraced. 

“What are we going to do about Mom?” Evan asked, looking over at Maze and putting together the logic that if the coyote was here, his mother was, too.

“We have to go,” Creed’s voice was harsh, though whispered.  “More are coming,” he nodded toward the downed soldier he was dragging out of the main lobby so as not to attract more attention.

“Children are in the basement, Creed,” Meg’s voice cracked between desperation and a whisper, reaching out to rub the soft ears of her best friend just as much to soothe herself as the coyote.

“What children?” Creed’s face paled; his jaw working angrily.

“Twelve that we saw.”  Meg’s eyes darted to Alik for confirmation. 

“She’s right.  Williams has them strapped to beds down there.”

Creed’s head whipped back to Sloan.  “Did you know about this?” 

Her eyes dropped shamefully. 

Sloan wanted to deny knowledge of the testing on the newest of metahumans, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie to these people.  Before she could confess, she was interrupted.

“We don’t have time to discuss it now,” Meg growled.  She stepped back, positioning herself so she had a commanding view of the metahumans in the passageway. 

Instinctively, she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, easing her calming empath vibrations across the group.  Like an invisible cooling breeze on a suffocating hot summer day, Meg watched as everybody raised their faces and breathed the strength she sent coursing through them.  Even through the eerie glow of the red emergency lights, Meg could see her gift working to relax the tension in their bodies and focus in their eyes.

Sloan stood in awe, never having experienced Meg’s empath skills.  “What was
that?
” her voice a breathy daze.  A warm, sweet breath spoke directly into her ear.  “Don’t worry, Sloan.  My sister is just helping everyone feel focused.” 

The girl turned her head toward the source of the voice and found herself staring into the bright, honey-green eyes of Evan Winter.

“We have to go rescue them,” Meg said calmly.  “We also need to go take care of our mom.”

“I need to get you to safety,” Creed growled protectively.  “I already lost my brother, I won’t lose anyone else.”

Meg’s eyes watered immediately as she scanned the corridor and confirmed Creed’s anguish.  In all the excitement, she’d overlooked Gavil’s absence until now.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Creed, but we must save them.”  Meg spoke softly as she stepped closer to the soul-shaken soldier.  She reached out to touch his shadowed face as though they had all the time in the world.

His eyes closed briefly, breathing in her strength.

When his thick lashes fluttered open he stared at the dark-eyed beauty that held what was left of his bruised and broken heart with the strength and tenderness of a tigress, and he knew he would follow her anywhere.  He nodded once before saying, “What’s the plan?” 

Meg crouched, motioning everyone to follow, huddling in the shadowed corner of the passageway.

“Alik, you, Farrow and Maze get the van and pull it right up to those doors,” Meg pointed to the front doors of the Research Hospital. 

“Keys?” Farrow asked.

“I left them in the visor,” Alik assured.

“Creed, Evan, Sloan and I will take the elevator downstairs, gather every child we can find and meet you back here in eight minutes.”

“Okay,” Alik said, staring at his battered, but still functional watch.  

“Stay sharp, everyone, and God be with us all,” she whispered as they stood.

Just then, the front doors to the Research Hospital burst open and the red emergency lights were pin
-pricked with blinding white flashes of gunfire.

MetaMonarchs, Part 3

13 years ago

The Institute in Southern California

“Just calm down, Williams.  Start from the beginning. Who stole what?”

Kenneth’s face was brick red with rage.  “I just hired that woman you recommended.  Your former student—The West Point graduate, Dr. Margo Pullman.”

“Yes, I remember her. What happened?”

“She was supposed to be the perfect soldier!  You said she would obey orders without question!”

“She’s not a Monarch, Williams.  What did she do?”

“She stole them!”

“Stole whom?”

“The three most promising metahumans I ever created!  She took the first survivor of the serum, a three-year-old female labeled M57, a two-year-old male, M61 and the youngest subject who had just been dosed today with the most advanced version of the Infinite serum—a newborn male, M74.” 

Senator
Donovan Arkdone didn’t interrupt Williams’ tirade.  During the past year of their partnership, he’d learned how fragile Williams’ psyche truly was.  Better to let him burst into flames and stand back so as not to get burned.

Kenneth’s breathing was coming out in furious puffs.

“The stupid woman snuck into the building after hours telling the guard she was anxious to set up her office.  He saw her walking to her car a few minutes later with a laundry cart she claimed would help her bring in her things.  She stole them by hiding them in a damn laundry cart, Donovan!”

He started panting like a laboring animal.  Donovan responded as he would to any psychotic patient, by repeating their worries and confirming their emotions proving to the subject that he truly was listening and did “care.”

“Of course that is horribly upsetting,” Arkdone placated believably. “Yet it's only three, and you can create many more.”

“That’s not all she did. 
She destroyed my mainframe, took all their files and completely removed all the data and samples we had of the perfected infinite serum.  How the hell did she think to do that?”

“She was special ops and an exemplary West Point grad.  She is capable of anything she sets her mind to.” 
Senator Arkdone’s voice accidentally sounded almost wistful.  Kenneth wanted to reach through the phone and smack him in the forehead with a baseball bat.

“Are you listening to me,
Professor?”  Spittle flew from his pursed lips.  “Now I’m going to have to start back at the beginning!  Do you have any idea how far back this set me?” 

“Well, Kenneth, didn’t you have backups of your files?”

“Yes.  Of course I did.  She destroyed those when she took out my mainframe!”

“My, she is thorough, isn’t she?” Donovan nearly cooed into the phone, forgetting his need to calm his associate.  “Can you imagine what a weapon she could have been as a MetaMonarch herself?”

“Focus, Donovan,” Williams seethed between clenched teeth.

“Well, the solution is quite simple, partner
—
Get them back.
”

“I already have people hunting her.”

“Excellent.  Then it’s just a matter of time before you get that original serum back from the subjects themselves.”

“Right,” Williams forced himself to take a deep breath.  “I mean, where could they possibly hide that money couldn’t find?”

“Exactly.”

“Hit the deck!” Creed yelled to the others as he ran toward the gunfire, his thick hands ablaze with returned gunfire.

Sloan crouched on her belly, instinctively holding her hands over her head and closing her eyes at the onslaught of at least a half-dozen metahumans firing directly at their group.

She was sure she was going to die right there on the floor and experienced her life flashing before her eyes.

She was just a little girl, a baby, when she solved the complex puzzle before her, then she was strapped down to a bed, face-down, and she saw a wicked-faced man come toward her with a syringe dripping with some unknown fluid.  He yanked her elastic pants down, exposing her left hip and jabbed her with the needle.  He giggled horribly as the pressure and fullness billowed beneath her skin. 

Sloan had screamed; screamed until she was hoarse. 

Then she saw a notebook under her wrist, notations written in her hand as she pressed her face harder into the eyepieces of the microscope.  She saw Dr. Williams smile as she presented her first case study and findings.  He was nodding in approval.  Then his face morphed into a bloody mass.  His lips cracking as he spoke.  Bloody liquids oozed down his skinless face… slipping down his jaw and raw neck. 

Sloan shivered.

The d
eafening sound of bullets blazed above her as she felt reality slip aside. 

Just then a warm, strong hand gripped her waist and pulled her aside.

Her eyes closed, she felt the hand release, but the heat of a body beside her remained as a shield between her and the attackers.  The gunfire intensified, if that was possible.  The echoes of bullets ricocheting off the cement walls were deafening, but she had to see who was beside her; who pulled her to safety.  She willed her eyes open just wide enough to look.  Beside her, crouched defensively around her, was the boy no older than she.  He glanced back, over his shoulder as though checking on her and she found herself lost in his hazel eyes.