Beyond These Walls (17 page)

“You didn’t miss much.” Shrugging, London motioned to the shattered picture on the floor. “We honeymooned on the islands. Drank rum from coconuts. And then came home.”

“Sounds fun.”

“For a time.” She waved a hand to the ruined couch, and I sat taking a few seconds to slip the PM40 from my waistband. London continued, “How do you feel, Indeara?”

I raised an eyebrow at the change of subject. “I’ll survive.”

“Will you?” She rubbed her arm. “How much time do you think you have left?”

A shiver ran up the back of my neck. “What’re you talking about?” I tugged the sleeve of my shirt down, trying to cover the small red welt on the inside of my elbow.

“I haven’t told anyone.” She smiled sadly. “But you should. Nobody has a right to know. So does Quinn.”

I frowned. “My health isn’t your concern.”

“If you say so.” She swallowed, her throat constricting like a snake. “But the plague is. I have to stop it, and you might be the only mutant who can help me do it.” Her face grew older as if the task of saving the world had aged her. “The only reason you’re still alive is your mutation. And eventually, as you get older, even that won’t save you from this plague.”

Just like Calvin.

“Resden’s responsible.” She shook her head. “Your grandfather created the mutant plague years before. To kill one mutant.” Calvin. “But it backfired.”

“How do you know this?”

Her eyes dipped to the floor. “I was there.”

“Where?” A feeling of dread washed over me.

“At Resden, when your father came to beg for Emily’s life. I’d just turned nine, and Calvin was the first mutant I’d ever seen.” London’s voice shook, but with real emotion I wasn’t so sure. “Arthur turned him away. I’ll never forget the look in Calvin’s eyes.”

I nodded, remembering his desperation. He would’ve sold his soul to the devil to save my mother. “Why are you telling me this?” I placed my PM40 on top Quinn’s broken coffee table. “Why does any of this matter to you, a human?”

London glanced at her own gun as if weighing the dangers of setting it down. Finally she emptied the chamber and flicked on the safety before, laying the gun on the floor between us. “Resden needs to be stopped. Too many mutants have died already. Good mutants. When the vaccine is finished who knows how many more with suffer.”

Great, another bleeding mutant-heart.

A piece of the puzzle suddenly clicked into place. I jumped up, which made London back up a step. “You’re Mutant L,” I said. “That’s what Nobody’s been hiding. He’s afraid to put you in danger.”

“He wants to protect me.” She laughed, a genuine laugh born from deep inside her. In a flash I saw the woman Nobody likely did. I shook my head. My poor cyclops friend was toast.

“But it’s not you who’s in trouble.”

She shook her head. “No.”

“The HOA wants Nobody.”

“Yes.” Her face paled. “They fear him. Fear what he can do with his computer.”

“So you had him kidnapped.”

“We had no choice. The HOA learned Nobody’s identity, and it was only a matter of time until they captured him.” The fear left her face replaced by a small smile. “Plus, we need his expertise—”

“Who’s we?”

She shook her head, sending waves of blonde curls dancing across her shoulders. “That doesn’t matter now.” She was right. The only thing that mattered to me was stopping Resden, by whatever means possible.

The pocket of London’s jeans chirped in one of those annoying generic mobile phone rings. She looked down reluctantly and then back at me. “I have to get this.”

I nodded, walking to the other side of the room to give her the impression of privacy while staying close enough to hear her every word.

I didn’t trust London.

Or anyone else for that matter.

“She’s right here.” Out of the corner of my eye I watched London motion to me. “Yes, I know you told her to lay low.” She paused to listen and then let out a loud laugh. “Well apparently she didn’t want to.”

I grinned, picturing Nobody on the other end of the phone, his face growing redder with every word.

“When?” London’s voice grew taunt, all banter between her and the giant gone. “No.” Her head tilted to one side like a toy doll, plastic and beautiful. “She has a right to know,” she said into the phone. “Fine,” she added a minute later and hung up.

“What doesn’t Nobody want me to know?” I peeled away from the window ceil and stalked across the room. My eyes darting back and forth as London began pacing its confines while muttering to herself. Finally she stopped, either coming to a decision or fearing all that walking might make her sweat, and therefore ruin her carefully applied makeup.

I wasn’t sure which.

“The HOA has Quinn.” Her eyes met mine. “They caught him slipping across the wall.” A sudden flash of fear caught me off guard, paralyzing me under a weight of grief I hadn’t experienced since Calvin’s death. Like Quinn, love was hard to kill, I reminded myself. He’d survive until I mounted a rescue. He had to. Without him I’d never destroy the vaccine in time.

“And it gets worse,” London said.

It usually does, I thought.

Chapter 36

Worse, from the chatter on the mutant message boards, was a team of agents led by Agent Umber, all preparing for my arrival at Resden. Somehow I’d gone from gnome leg breaker to mutant super-fucking-hero.

“Must be the outfit,” London said, pointing at my Mutant Star tank top. I shot her a look that suggested physical harm if she didn’t shut up. She didn’t. “Add a pink cape, and a half-mask to protect your secret identity,” she added with a laugh. “And you’ve got it made.”

“Remind me to kill you when this is over,” I said. She ignored me and continued her teasing. “We’ll have to work on your name though.” Her finger tapped her bottom lip. “Maybe something like Mutant Girl.”

“Quiet.” I held up my hand and London instantly fell silent. We were about a twenty feet from Resden, hidden in the folds of an underground world of water pipes and drainage ditches. The sewer had become my home away from cramped apartment home. I sniffed the air, debating which smelled better, wastewater or a cyclops too busy with hacking into the HOA’s system to shower for four days.

Wastewater won out, just barely.

In my hands I held thirty pounds of plastic explosives, four timing devices, and a stuffed rag doll. Each served the same purpose, saving our asses if things went to hell. My plan for rescuing Quinn was hazy at best, but for some reason London had accepted it without question. Especially once we located enough c-4 to level a small country stuffed in the back of Quinn’s closet. Damn Tony.

“How much time do we have?” London motioned to the timer in my fist, its digital clock flashing red with warning. I secured the timer to the sewer grate above our heads and tapped a few keys until the timer read five minutes.

“Once I slip inside I’ll have twenty minutes to find Quinn and get the hell out before the first bomb detonates.” Climbing down the ladder attached to the sidewall of the sewer I grinned at the well-dressed, perfectly coffered beauty queen, knee deep in sludge, preparing to blow up one of the most powerful companies in the world.

I brushed my hand on the side of my pants. “Once I set these, there’s no stopping them.” I glanced at the timer dangling from a string around my neck. “So stay as far away from Resden as you can.”

“Please be careful.”

“Why?” I raised my eyebrow. “I’m as good as dead anyway.”

“Don’t say that.” London’s face gleamed in the dim light of my flashlight. For some reason she looked horrified at the very thought of death. Like she’d never experienced anything unpleasant in her short Ivy leagued life.

“We’re all dead if I don’t rescue Quinn, and destroy the vaccine.” I frowned, gesturing to the tall blonde. “Us mutants, I mean.”

London flinched.

Interesting.

I rubbed my chin and once again wondered at her connection to the mutated race. Why was she helping us? What did she have to gain? I hoped I’d learn the answer before it cost us all.

“Nobody’s going to be pissed that I’m helping you.” She shook her head. “Really pissed.”

“Yep.” I grinned. “But he’ll be alive.”

She glanced down at her fist, the one currently gripping an explosive timer. “Let’s hope when this is over, you are too.” The ominous words hung in the air long after I set the final charge.

******

A bus filled with afternoon commuters passed by giving me enough time to cross the street in front of Resden without drawing the notice of the two agents, Black and Brown, standing at the front doors. Not that anyone would notice me. I looked as human as human got in a pair of London’s jeans and one of Quinn’s t-shirts, my blonde curls stuffed under a skullcap.

After our trip down the sewer I’d changed from my bloodied tank top and cargo pants into my human costume. The jeans fit much too snug, so much so that I instantly went on a diet. Thankfully the t-shirt covered the extra inch of flesh mushrooming over the waistband. The t-shirt also hid two nine-millimeters and my PM40. Unfortunately, I left most of my grenades in the sewer below, along with the C-4.

However, in my hands, I did carry the rag doll, Ragged-Altered-Annie, its red string hair bobbed up and down with my every step. Black button eyes stared blankly up at me. When I reached the sidewalk I quickly ducked down the alley that separated Resden from a much smaller building. The alley smelled of rotting garbage and biological waste. From London’s hand-drawn map inscribed on the palm of my hand I maneuvered through the waste to a steel side door, a steel side door guarded by an impenetrable lock.

But I had a key or at least Quinn’s ID. Swiping the card, I crossed my fingers and prayed Resden hadn’t inactivated it. Yet. When the light flashed from red to green, I nearly sang with relief. I took a second to calm my racing heart and slowly opened the door. No alarm sounded. So far London’s intel was dead-on, but I still didn’t fully trust the beauty queen.

Stay alive, Quinn, I begged.

I slipped one of the nine millimeters from underneath my t-shirt and step inside Resden. Before I’d cleared the doorway, someone grabbed my arm, pulling me backward into the sunlight. I landed hard on my ass in the center of the alley. Agent Black dressed all in black stood over me, looking as dangerous as he had when we first met. My jade eyes reflected off the black lens of his wrap-around sunglasses.

“Not so tough now,” he said, kicking the gun from my hand before I could get off a shot. Two of my knuckles burst under the assault, sending sharp pains up my arm. Thankfully numbness quickly set in. “Come on, girl.” He sent a kick into my ribs. “Show me what you got.”

Stars exploded behind my eyes hurtling me to unconsciousness. I considered throwing up, but felt the effort might hurt too much. Instead I sucked in an unsteady breath and leapt to my feet. Black backed up a step and grinned.

“Now that’s more like it.” He cracked his knuckles. Pop. Pop. Pop. The sound sent a shiver up my spine.

I glanced at my gun, which lay a few feet away. Its shiny surface mocked me. This was gonna hurt. With a final glance of longing at the cold metal I threw my leg out in a sweep kick. The blow smashed into his calf, knocking him back. I followed the kick with a knife-edge fist into the throat, but he twisted, rendering the punch ineffective.

“Good,” he said. “But not good enough, sweetheart.”

Grabbing for my arm, he slammed me against the wall. My forehead smacked the brick, opening a gash over my right eye. Blood poured from the wound, blinding me. The agent took advantage of my stupor and thrust my body toward his in an old-fashioned fairy-wrestler clothesline move.

I ducked, missing his elbow to my thorax, but my shoulder paid the price. It sprung from its socket with a loud pop and my vision went grey. My stomach followed suit. I puked on the agent’s shoes. Hell, if I couldn’t beat’em, they’d sure as heck have a dry cleaning bill to remember.

“Bitch.” He grabbed a clump of my hair and spun me to the ground. I didn’t fight. The concrete seemed like the perfect place to sleep off the millions of sharp pains rocketing through my body. Or so it seemed until agent-asshole decided to the winner went my spoils. He grabbed the waistband of my jeans and pulled. Brass buttons flew in various directions.

I yelped as his sweaty hand touched the flesh above my pubic bone. No fucking way, I thought as I struggled to free myself from his hold. I wasn’t a victim to lay passively back. Nope, if he wanted my body, he’d pay the price with his life.

Wedging my knee into his thigh I pushed, hoping to send his nuts exploding through the top of his head. No such luck. His fist smashed into the side of my head. I spit out a mouthful of blood and resumed my fight. I fought with every dirty trick I had, but nothing deterred him from his assault.

He yanked my knees apart and fumbled with his zipper.

“No,” I screamed.

Pop.

Pop.

Gunfire exploded in the alley. Agent Black fell forward, crushing me to the ground underneath him. The warmth of blood oozed over me smelling of copper and death. Rolling out from underneath him I kicked his lifeless body aside and struggled to sit up, to breathe. London stood half out of the sewer, my shiny nine-millimeter in her shaking hand. Neither of us said a word as I crawled toward her. We sat in silence for a few seconds before I took the weapon from her limp wrist. I nodded once, and she slipped back into the sewer.

Wiping a stream of blood from my eyes I glanced at the dead agent and grinned. “Sometimes, Agent Black, it’s better to be lucky than good.”

Chapter 37

In the darkened corridor of Resden I consulted the map on my hand one more time, feeling much more faith in it, and London than I had an hour ago. Her willingness to kill to save my ass had significantly changed my outlook. As for the rest of my semi-hazy plan, I had little faith that: 1) it would work, and 2) either Quinn or I would survive it. But a little faith beat total destruction of mutants everywhere, right? So I shuffled onward, my destination, according to the map, just four short floors away.