Collide (20 page)

“Of course not.” Josh stepped back and assumed an attack stance.

The Architect laughed. “Of course not,” she mocked. “I’m stronger than you now. You can’t beat me. You might as well just come with me. You may still be able to save your mother. Your sister, on the other hand . . .You’re too late for that.”

Josh bristled, lunging toward the Architect again. He caught her by the throat, his eyes wild with rage.

“That got you riled up, didn’t it?”

Josh tightened his grip around her neck.

“You think you have me, don’t you?” The Architect coughed out the last words, the pressure on her throat cutting off her air supply.

She closed her eyes and imagined herself free from his grasp. Instantly, he let go, stumbling as he did so.

“I told you, I’m stronger than you now. I’m stronger than all of you.”

Josh scrambled to his feet. His gaze darted from side to side like a hunter about to strike.

The Architect turned away from him and started to walk back toward the house. “So be it,” she called over her shoulder.

Josh took a step to follow, landing in the lake instead.

I don’t want to kill you, Josh. Submit to me. Give in.

Josh struggled, his intention clear.

The Architect centered her thoughts, mentally dragging Josh into the lake’s depths. He fought against her hold on his mind, shoving his own images into her consciousness. Pictures of her father’s death, his face contorted with pain bounced through her mind, followed by images of the Creator’s disdain. The mental attack found its mark, and for a moment the Architect faltered, a prisoner to her past, her fear.

Josh swam toward the shoreline, his mind clear.

Clarity didn’t last long.

“Cut it off,” the Architect shouted to the trees and corn that surrounded her. “Stow it away.” With a deep, feral scream she attacked Josh, dragging him deeper into the water. She imagined him opening his mouth, felt the burning sensation when his lungs took in too much water.

Suffocation quickly followed. Josh’s eyes bulged, his lungs crippled.

Josh stopped fighting. His body grew still. He floated face-down on the surface of the lake, lifeless.

The Architect stared at the water for several minutes. Tears tightened in her throat as Josh’s corpse floated toward shore. Her legs buckled and she stumbled to the ground. Gravel and pine needles ground into her skin. A loud sob escaped her lips. Josh was dead by her hands. She wasn’t sure what to feel, how to act. She only knew that his death barely put a dent in what she owed the Creator. He gave her purpose, a reason to get up and face each day. Now, as she watched Josh’s body bounce along the lazy current of the lake, she wondered why she’d ever wanted this life.

You have done well
. The Architect hadn’t sensed the Creator’s presence until he spoke.
Bring the others home. Bring her home.

Project Stargate 2.0

The Solomon Experiments

Dr. LeMercier’s Personal Journal –

November 11, 2002

Day 135:

She’s killed, at last. Without remorse. Without shame. She understands the necessity of taking action, of murder when required. She is willing to comply, to follow orders without objection. Tate is not as confident as I. He believes it’s too early to trust in her killing abilities. She has only killed a few lab animals. Nothing compared to the taking of human life.

He’s right, of course, though his concerns are unfounded. The Assassin enjoys the kill. The spark in her eye when her victim inhales his last breath—she wants more, craves more. And I will provide it in exchange for her fealty.

I wish Christyn shared my excitement, my anticipation for the future. She is distracted, withdrawn. I only see her during our debriefings. The rest of the time she counsels the recruits or hides herself away from me.

It pains me, but I don’t trust her actions anymore.

I will not tolerate disloyalty of any form, especially from her. Can’t she understand all that we’ve accomplished? Doesn’t she marvel in the impossible things we’ve brought to life? These experiments are a success. We’ve—I’ve—created the perfect weapon, one our enemies will never outwit. Surely Christyn can grasp the impact of this accomplishment. If she can’t . . . if she won’t . . . then I will do what I must.

I cannot afford to keep anyone here who is not committed to the project, including Christyn. She knew the price she’d have to pay to be involved with this, she knew what I expected. She cannot simply walk away. No one can.

What am I going to do if I can no longer trust her? What will she
force
me to do?

I BLINK ONCE, TWICE IN RAPID SUCCESSION AS THE MORNING SUNLIGHT STREAMS INTO THE CAR
. My head pounds mercilessly. “Ouch,” I groan, still not fully aware of where I am and what’s happened. I glance to my left. David slumps over, a deflated air-bag in his face. A thick trickle of blood reaches from his temple toward his chin. I reach over and brush my hand against his arm. “David,” I say. “David, you okay?”

He groans, his pain mirroring my own. “Yeah,” he manages to push through gritted teeth. “You?”

“I think so.” I release my seatbelt and push aside the deployed airbag. Last night comes back in a rush—the shaking car, jumping the curb, crashing through the fence. The car door creaks on its hinges as I force it open and the most important part of my memory returns.

“Josh!” I swing my legs free from the wreck. “I need to get to Josh.”

My body refuses to comply with my mind. I force my body to stand, every muscle screaming in protest.

“Dakota, wait.” I can tell David hurts as much as I do. He frees himself from the car with a grunt and wipes the drying blood from his face. “I’m coming with you.”

I walk away without a word as dread chokes my reply.

“Dakota!”

His words bounce off of my mind, unacknowledged. I mentally search for Josh, pushing into the spaces that surround me. Nothing. His presence is gone, leaving nothing in its place—no shadow to pursue, no echo to lead me to him.

“Josh,” I whisper. My heart clenches as I swallow down my worry and walk toward the lake. “Come on, dammit. Let me find you.”

Pushing through the tight thicket, I press toward the lake. The sun rises above the horizon, turning the rippling water into conjoined rivers of gold. It glitters against my eyes and renders them useless.

“Dakota. Where are you?” David’s voice sounds far away, my mind still concentrating only on Josh.

“Here,” I answer. “By the lake.”

I blink away my blindness and squint against the brilliant sunrise, my eyes glued to the rhythmic water gently lapping at the shore. Visually, I trace the banks of the shoreline, hesitating on each mound or lump. My heart rate jumps with every breath, preparing me for the inevitable. I shove down the gnawing doubt, unwilling to acknowledge the truth rising through me.

My search continues as my sight moves down the shoreline. Nothing appears out of place. Still, my breathing grows more erratic, shallow.

“Have you found him yet?” David asks as he catches up to me. “Can you sense him?”

“No. You?”

“Nothing. But locating people was never my strong suit. That was more Mari’s thing.”

The mention of
Mari
unleashes an unwanted chill that spreads across my back and down my spine. My eyes rest on a bright spot in the distance, two houses down from where I stand. A large lump at the edge of the shoreline bathed in blinding sunlight reflecting off the watery mass. My throat constricts, my brow furrows in concentration.

“What is it?” David asks, his sight aligning up with mine.

My breath catches, the panic surges.

“Dakota?”

I don’t answer, just walk-run toward the motionless lump.

The sun ascends as I get closer to the mass. The heaviness in my chest increases and I can barely breathe.
Relax, you don’t know what it is
, I tell myself.

A lie.

My legs turn to cement as I move faster toward my undoing. David yells, his words lost in the agony ahead.

No.

The mound morphs into a body, lifeless, eyes bulging and red, mouth open, skin waterlogged.

“No!” The scream rips from me, taking a piece of my soul with it. I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t stand.

My body crashes to the ground with a hard thud as my stomach clenches with a pain too raw, too feral, too real. I gag on my emotions and empty every ounce of feeling onto the ground ahead of me. Another wave of torment lodges in my throat. More agony empties from me. With each wave of nausea, memories of my forgotten life return.

The training and experiments.

The family and games.

The . . .

Death.

My mind spins away, my heart consumed with a need for vengeance. I stand, fueled by a rage I don’t try to suppress. I walk to Josh unable to breathe. Tears overrun my eyes and trail hot rivers down my cheeks. I chew my cheeks, my hands balled into fists.

“This doesn’t end here, Josh. I will figure out who’s responsible for all of this—for you, for Mom, for everything.” A scream wells in my gut and races up my throat. Lifting my head to the sky, I scream.

The sound says everything I can’t. Every moment of anguish. Every ounce of shame. Every promise of vengeance. The trees shake and move. Rocks swirl up around me, along with pine needles, leaves and anything not rooted into the ground. The cyclone whirls in front of me, commanded by me. “Time for you to pay,” I whisper.

The cyclone grows bigger, taller, faster.

“Dakota!” David rushes to my side. “Don’t do it. You have to calm down. You have to stop.”

“They’ll pay,” I scream. I spread my arms and the cyclone dissipates, sending rocks flying in every direction.

David pulls me into a tight embrace, his face buried into my neck. “I know. I know.” His tears mirror my own, as does his agony. “They will.”

My heart pounds against his body. I don’t want to calm down, relax, think. I don’t want to be in control.

I want my revenge. I want them to die.

All of them.