Anarchy Found (22 page)

“You really are the one responsible for killing those Blue Corp scientists.”

I sigh. “Yes.”

“I have to go.”

I grab her by the arm and twirl her around, a wave of nausea rolling in my gut. I let go of her immediately to allow the inhibition sickness to pass, but I catch the anger for manhandling her. “Just wait, Molly. Let me explain.”

“Explain? What exactly is there to explain? You’re a murderer.” She scans the wall, taking in all the newspaper printouts I’ve collected over my fifteen-year career. “A mass murderer. And these,” she says, ripping more printouts off the wall, “are your trophies? How many are there, Lincoln?”

I shrug. It’s all I can do. “I used to keep count, but—”

“Oh, my God.”

“—a lot.”

“And that lab out there? The one with the mice?”

I shoot a look at Sheila and she stares back, unaffected.

“Tell her,” Sheila says. “Tell her everything, Lincoln.” And then she turns to look at Molly. “I’ve begged him for years to stop. I’ve tried reason, I’ve tried threats. I’ve tried to be supportive. I’ve done it all, Detective. He’s not afraid of getting caught. He has a death wish. And if you weren’t his long-lost partner from Prodigy, he’d be playing a cat-and-mouse game with you right now. Just like he’s done with the other detectives who tried to figure it out.”

Molly glowers at me, but I have nothing to say except, “I am the monster they made me.”

“Bullshit,” Molly yells. “Bull-fucking-shit, Lincoln.”

“How would you know? You don’t even remember what they did to
you
, let alone what they did to
me
.”

“I remember enough—”

“You don’t remember shit,” I growl at her. It comes off so animalistic, she takes a step back. Then she looks over her shoulder at Sheila and retreats to her side, assuming, correctly, Sheila will keep me at bay. “I have always needed a control, even after I sent you away, Molly. And maybe Sheila isn’t my Omega. I gave her severe limitations. But if I’m in the cave, she can… dissuade me from acting. You don’t have to fear me. Ever.”

Molly directs her anger at Sheila now. “Then why did you allow this?” She points to the printouts and photographs that paper the wall from floor to ceiling. “Stop him, for fuck’s sake.”

“I can’t be everywhere, Detective. All things have limits.”

“What is going on here, Lincoln?” Molly sets her jaw and grits her teeth, determined to figure out the truth. “What is all this?” She sweeps her hands wide. “What is all that?” She points to the cave outside my room. “And what are you doing in that operating room?”

Fuck. She saw all of it. “I wanted to explain—”

“But what? You wanted to fuck me first?”

“Stop it,” I bark, scaring her into a backwards step. “Don’t get vulgar with me in front of Sheila.”

“Sheila? Fuck you and your stupid robot minion! What the fuck is going on? Are you really keeping me here? Am I your prisoner? Is that why you told me to come find you? To save yourself the trouble of luring me out here?”

“Of course not,” I snap. “What happened to, ‘You’re my Alpha, Lincoln. I’m your Omega?’ I mean shit, Molly, if you’re just looking for an excuse to bail, fine. But the truth is all those people I killed were associated with Prodigy. Every one of them is guilty. Every one of them was fucking
there
, Molly. With you. With me. With Thomas and Case. They killed my parents. Burned my goddamned house down so I’d never have a home again. This lab, this cave, this work. This is all I have left. This is the only thing on this whole motherfucking planet that’s still mine.”

“So you kill them. Pick them off one by one and make it look like a suicide.”

“I didn’t make it look like a suicide. They really did kill themselves.”

“But you helped them do it.”

I shrug.

“How?”

I have to turn to hide the diabolical smile. Because what I’m doing is life-changing, world-shattering, and downright evil. Does she really want to know?

I turn back and eye her.

She stares me in the face and says, “Tell me.”

“You’re not gonna like it.”

“Tell me,” she repeats.

“Did you know,” I start slowly, barely a whisper, “that some species of jellyfish can regrow their own bodies?”

She swallows and backs up a step.

“Did you know they can even regenerate their own brains? Even after you detach them from their bodies? It’s practically a miracle, Molly. Scientists have declared it unnatural. But those neurons are completely natural, and so is everything I’m doing. I can take those cells out of the jellyfish and replant them into the mice. I can grow new parts to their little mousey brains, Molly.”

“I feel sick,” she says, her hand going to her stomach.

“And did you know that you can drive mice to violence if you stimulate a certain gland in their brains in just the right way?”

“You c-c-cannot be serious,” she stammers.

“That gland is in every brain. It’s a part of you, of me, of every human being on this planet. And did you know that there’s a serum you can inject to make people more violent?”

“You’re sick,” she says, her eyes searching my face for the Alpha she once loved. “You’re sick. I was right the first time. You’re some kind of deviant maniac.”

“The lab, the jellyfish, and those mice, the computers, all of it—everything you see in here is what Prodigy School was doing, only better. More advanced. They made me smart. The smartest of all the kids they had. They made me that way, Molly. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you gotta use the gifts you’ve been given.”

“I should arrest you.”

I put my hands out, wrists together. “Go ahead. There’s no evidence, I promise you. There is nothing here but legal research on mice and jellyfish. I have permits and permission. Hell”—I laugh—“I even have government grants funding this shit.”

“Who the fuck would give grants to a lab in a Batcave?”

“His retrovirus, Molly,” Sheila says, speaking for me. “He can rewrite any program in the world using me as his vector. I’m a delivery mechanism for a global technology revolution. We can reprogram any computer to do our bidding. Governments, private companies, anything.”

“So you stole that grant money. You’re a serial killer and a thief. A crazed liar who wants to end the world? Just what the fuck are you doing?”

“You forgot monster, devil, and evil. Go ahead, Molls, spit in my face for good measure.”

She recoils, but it’s from the nickname, I just know it. “I want to leave now.”

“Molly—”

But she pushes past me, grabs her jeans from the floor, and starts pulling them on. “No,” she says. “No, no, no. I can’t listen to another word. Just let me go.”

I sigh, looking over at Sheila. But Sheila’s gone. She got what she wanted, I guess. She wants me to be accountable to someone and she got her wish. I pull on my own jeans just as Molly finds her shoes and slips her feet into them.

She walks forward, pushes me hard on the chest to get me out of her way, and bolts past, heading across the cave to the tunnel where she disappears into the darkness.

I follow her, slowly, giving her a little time to calm down.

“Open the fucking gate, Lincoln,” she yells, and once I turn the corner, the breaking dawn outlines her shape against the rusted bars of the gate that stands between her and freedom.

I walk up to her. She looks scared, and confused, and tired. “Molly, please—”

“Open the gate.”

I have nothing left. Nothing to say. No more ways to justify anything I’ve done. I only have one excuse and it’s not good enough for Molly. Sheila was right. All this shit has finally caught up with me and it’s gonna cost me everything. Again.

“Open the gate, Sheila,” I call out to the air. Seconds later the rusty bars begin to lift up. Molly doesn’t even wait for it, she drops to her knees and crawls under, heading for her bike.

I follow her out and watch helplessly as she grabs her helmet and shoves it on her head, then straddles the bike and kickstarts the engine. It roars to life and I stay quiet. Hoping she’ll say something. Anything.

But she doesn’t. She gives the bike some throttle, whips it around in the dirt, and then speeds off, her front wheel leaving the ground for effect.

She is outta here.

I turn and walk back into the tunnel. “Close it up, Sheila.” And the gate comes back down, whining and creaking the whole way. I make my way back into the cave, pass Sheila standing in the middle, looking like she’s got something to say, and then go into my room and close the door.

I feel like a kid again.

No. I never got sent to my room by my mom as a kid. I don’t even remember my mom. And my dad never paid much attention to me. He was always down here, I guess.

No.

It doesn’t remind me of being a kid. It reminds me of being Alpha.

Molly wants him, but only the parts she loves. Because if she thinks the killer in the cave is worse than the Alpha from her dreams, she’s lost more than her memory. She’s lost her sanity.

I sit down at my computer and type in my password, then bring up my scorecard. I started with so many names. But I’m down to the last few now.

Three more targets and I can be finished. Three more days of killing and I can be done with this life.

After that, I’m not sure there’s anything left for me. After that it’s just a big black hole. After that I might think about using the protocol on myself.

After that it might be the end.

Chapter Thirty - Molly

I have to stop the bike on the side of the mountain. I can see all thirteen cathedrals of the city staring back at me as I lean over a silver guardrail and hurl over the side of a cliff. I can’t stop thinking of the images on that wall.

He’s sick.

Sick. Sick. Sick. I cannot say it enough, that’s how sick he is. I have spent the last few years committed to protecting people from harm. I joined this department to help the innocent and the underrepresented. The forgotten and the disregarded. To get to the bottom of crimes that no one cares about. And now I’m in bed with a person who spits on everything I believe in. A person who takes the law into his own hands and uses science—the pursuit of knowledge, for fuck’s sake—to kill people in the name of vigilante justice.

I know why he uses that anarchy symbol now. Because he is the antithesis of everything society represents. Authority, safety, and the rule of order mean nothing to Lincoln Wade. He is right. He
is
what they made him. He is evil, he is wicked, and he is insane.

I try to throw up again, but my stomach is empty. And I never got to pee, and right now, I might piss myself if I can’t get it all under control. So I drop to my knees, still holding the guardrail, and bow my head into the cold metal. The wind is strong up here, and I’m shaking from the cold. I left my jacket and my backpack. And now I’ll probably have to break into my own house because I don’t have my keys.

My back pocket vibrates and I realize how lucky I am to still have my phone.

It can’t be Lincoln, he doesn’t have my number.

He’s a criminal hacker, Molly. How hard would it be to get your number
?

But it’s not him, so I don’t even bother wondering. I just tab accept and speak into the phone. “Yes, Chief.”

“Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been calling you since yesterday morning. Partying too hard on the weekend again?”

“Sorry, Chief, but it’s my day off.”

“You don’t get a day off, Masters! You’re a city employee! You’re a servant of the greater good! You’re a—”

“I got it, Chief,” I snarl back at him. “I don’t need reminding.”

“What did you just say?”

Dammit. I sigh heavily. “I’m here now, OK? I wasn’t drinking. I was up in the mountains with no service.”

“Get your ass into the station. Now. There’s been another suicide.”

And then he hangs up on me. Just like clockwork.

But I get to my feet and force myself to get back on the bike. Because this shit needs to be dealt with. Lincoln needs to be dealt with. I’m not sure what that entails, to be honest. I’m not sure if it means I turn him in or turn a blind eye. I’m just not sure. But I can’t stay here.