Jaden Baker (75 page)

“Well, if he’d help, maybe we need him. Who is he?” Christine asked again.

“Why did you try to kill me?” Libby shot back.

Christine harrumphed, layed her head on her hand and continued driving in silence. Libby smirked, leaned back and rubbed Jaden’s forearm. He didn’t look at her.

Whatever Seth was, his appearance bothered Jaden, and Libby suspected he was embarrassed. Granted if she had a second personality, she probably wouldn’t want to share it either, but she wasn’t as bothered as she thought she should have been. Maybe she was caught up in their perilous moment and Seth would bother her later, she wasn’t sure. It was a big psychological issue, but almost an afterthought. Maybe voicing this to Jaden would put his mind at ease. Seth was no longer Jaden’s darkest secret. He had no more secrets. But now was not the time. She stayed silent.

The Land Rover merged with California 1, which curved through Marin City, then they passed Sausalito, the edge of the bay to their left, visible in the remaining daylight. Darkness filled the car as they drove through a tunnel in the hill, and her stomach flipped.

San Francisco in twilight.

They crested a hill and the city glimmered with scattered lights ahead of them as night approached. A strong sense of tension settled over the four of them. The Golden Gate Bridge loomed closer. Her grip on Jaden tightened instinctively, and he squeezed back. His pulse quickened and she heard him sigh. Perhaps it was a side effect of the epinephrine, or just nerves, but his hands were shaking.

Reassurances failed her. What did you say in a situation like this? The giant orange towers of the bridge made her feel small, helpless. The two 9mm pistols were like squirt guns. To her right lay the vastness of the Pacific Ocean, and to the left, the bay, Alcatraz somehow magnified, a supernatural prison. On the other side of the bridge, tall coastal trees reminded her of childhood vacations her chromosomal donors forced her to go on. She couldn’t remember the names of the trees; they were unique to the North Coast.

They followed the freeway for a little while, then they headed into town toward Madrid’s home, if he was even there. She didn’t know if she was ready for this. What if something happened and they failed? What would Madrid do?

Can’t think about that.

“Are you guys sure we want to do this?” Alan said, his jittery voice an echo of her mood.

“You don’t have to come,” Jaden said. “But I’m going.”

Alan flipped open the glove compartment, then closed it again, looking for something to do with his hands.

“What about the—” Alan signaled to Jaden’s throat.

“Oh, I can take care of that,” Christine said, taking her eyes off the road to examine the collar on Jaden’s neck. “I’ll wait till we park. It’s going to take my concentration.”

“Let’s do it before we get there, though,” Libby said, thinking of how stupid it would be to park in front of his house and start blasting things off.

Christine pulled off the road to park, then positioned herself, her back to the steering wheel, as she stared at the collar.

Jaden locked eyes with Christine, and for a moment Libby wondered if they were reading each other’s minds. Wrong superpower, she thought, and shook her head.

“Does anyone have a pocket knife?” she asked.

Alan handed one to her. Christine crawled to the back seat, signaling that Libby should move. She took Libby’s old seat and flipped open the blade.

“Careful,” Libby said.

“Chill out,” Christine said. She tried cutting the sheath material, but was having some difficulty. “I don’t know what kind of material this is, but we need a sharper knife, something with a serrated edge.” She sat down, folded the knife, and gave it back to Alan.

“Now what?” Libby asked.

Christine ducked her head and surveyed the houses outside. “I’ll be right back,” she said as she opened the door and crawled out over Jaden’s lap. She shut the door behind her and jogged the sidewalk to a house up the street, then disappeared inside it.

“Okay,” Libby said, her hands up, “now that she’s gone, will someone please tell me—”

“She’s my half-sister,” Jaden said, staring at the seat in front of him. “Archcroft has manipulated her into doing things. I don’t know why she attacked us, but I’m sure she was fed a story of lies.”

Libby’s mouth was open. She tried closing it but struggled.

“She’s helping us now, that’s all that matters,” Jaden added.

A sister? He had a sister? She didn’t understand, tried breaking it down mentally. Actually it was pretty simple, no need for breakdown, but an explanation. “How?” she asked.

“Same father. Dalton told me about it, right before...” he swallowed, but perked up when he saw Christine dashing back to the car with a steak knife in her hand. She crawled back into the car, over his lap, and sat down, sawing at the material protecting the collar.

Libby couldn’t watch, she imagined Christine losing her grip, sawing off Jaden’s head, blood everywhere, screaming. The image made her sick, and she cursed her vivid imagination. Taking deep breaths, she looked out her window and watched cars drive by.

“Can you see it now?” Jaden asked.

“Yeah, it’s a chain, pretty complex.”

“Can you blow it off?”

“I think so.”

“Wait, wait,” Alan said. “It’s tapped into his spinal column.”

“Gross,” Christine said. “I’ll try breaking a link and we can just unwrap it.”

Libby had to watch. Jaden’s glanced at her then away, his cheeks flushed. But he shouldn’t be embarrassed by this. She was so angry with how Madrid had made him feel subhuman, an object. If he was here right now she could easily strangle him.

Christine gripped the collar with her fingers and held her breath, concentrating on something. After ten seconds, there was a
clink
. She pulled back the material she’d cut, and worked one chain link out of another.

“There,” she said, and Jaden pushed her hands away and he took the collar in both of his, gently pulled the back of it up at an angle, as if he’d done this before...

He scratched his neck and tossed the collar in the back of the car. “Thank you,” he muttered to Christine.

She nodded, kissed his cheek, squirmed to the driver’s seat, powered on the car, and drove on. They headed east for a while, then turned south, going up a hill towards a red and white electrical tower. They didn’t go straight for it, but curved around the hill into residential territory.

“We’re close,” Christine said, and Libby’s stomach was bubbling with nerves, her limbs numb. They drove up a street, going back up toward the top of the hill. The houses were large, close together, expensive. They had the classic San Francisco look to them: flat surfaces and straight angles, jutting windows and decks. Some of the houses were old, others more modern.

“He lives on this street,” Christine said, slowing the car. “We can drive there, or park here and walk. What do you want to do?” she asked Jaden.

“Drive past it, I want to see it first,” Jaden said. He reached back and unzipped one of the two suitcases and pulled from it a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. After scrounging around inside of it, he also found athletic shoes.

Libby turned away, giving him privacy as he changed into his pants. She faced him when she heard him tying up the laces.

“I want to borrow a gun,” Alan said.

Libby hesitated before handing over one of her pistols, giving him the second magazine.

The Land Rover climbed a hill. There were brick houses, grand in scale, modern concrete homes with windows facing their views, and then a Spanish villa at the top of the hill.

“It’s that one,” Christine said.

Jaden ran his hand through his hair and leaned across Libby to look out the window, to see the house he was about to enter.

The house was enormous, the kind of home she expected him to have. The Daltons had frequently visited the Madrids before, but never at this house. She didn’t say it aloud, but she thought this home was new to Madrid.

Christine drove to the end of the street and stopped the car. “Well?” she asked.

“Park it across the street from the house, maybe diagonally,” Jaden said.

Libby felt like throwing up. They didn’t know the layout of the house, if Madrid was home or not, if he had big guns, swords, or dogs. They were blind.

Alan, the only other person there who was wholly unremarkable, bent over, putting his head between his knees. He’d planned a simple getaway. The last minute attack wasn’t his idea. He probably wished Jaden and Libby had taken the extra car, gone and started a new life. It would’ve made his life much less likely to end in the next few minutes.

Christine parked kitty-corner to Madrid’s house.

“Oh God,” Libby whispered, her hands shaking.

“I’m not sure I want you to come,” Jaden said to her. “Maybe you and Alan should go on without us.”

Alan jerked out of his slump, looking at Libby expectantly.

“It’s just, if Madrid’s inside, he might be able to control me,” Jaden said, staring at his feet. “I don’t want to hurt you. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened.”

Abandonment wasn’t an option. She remembered the state she found him in, even when they first met, how scared he was to go back to Archcroft. He had told her everything Madrid had done to him, and it had enraged her. At the time she’d forced herself to look strong and calm. Thinking it over, though, she had always wanted to kill the bastard.

Then she thought of the other Jaden, the one who marched up the stairs, wet from the rain, and told her that if he had a choice, he’d never be separated from her.

“You won’t hurt me. I couldn’t live with myself if I left you,” Libby said.

Christine and Alan were silent in the front seats, trying to act as if they weren’t there.

“Are you sure?” Jaden said. “He said he’d do things to you if I disobeyed him again.”

Libby nodded, tears threatening her stability. “Then we need to finish this. It’s time for Madrid to meet his maker. Have his maker send him to Hell.” She gave him a watery, weak smile.

“Always with the jokes,” he said heavily. “Okay, let’s go in.”

Jaden was out of car first, then Alan and Libby, Christine last. They jogged across the street and up the brick stairs that flowed up the hill to the front door of Madrid’s non-humble abode. They couldn’t be seen by anyone inside, as no windows looked down on the entryway.

“Is he home?” Alan asked, gun pointed to the ground.

Jaden and Christine both frowned, eyes darting through the house as if they had heightened visual skills and could see beyond the walls.

“I don’t sense anything,” Christine said, and she sounded alarmed. “You?”

Jaden shook his head.

“So he’s not home?” Alan asked, hopeful.

Jaden tried the door knob, slammed into it as he twist it, but the door wouldn’t open.

“It’s locked?” Libby asked.

Christine pushed Jaden aside, tried the knob but she couldn’t get the door to open either.

“How’s he doing it?” Jaden asked, stepping back from the house, looking up to the roof and upstairs windows. “I don’t get it.”

“What’s going on?” Alan asked.

“I can’t feel anything,” Jaden said. “It’s like my PK is gone.”

“Mine too,” Christine said. She reached her hand toward the car but nothing happened. She took the steps, and on the last step, the Land Rover shook on its tires.

“So in this house, you’re just like us? No Jedi powers?” Libby whispered.

Jaden shook his head.

“How do we get in?” Alan asked.

“We don’t,” Jaden said.

Libby ran her hands along the top of the door jamb. Nothing there. The entryway was covered with plants. She tilted pots. Nothing underneath. Then she saw a rock. She picked it up, surprised by its lightness despite being quite large. She examined it, didn’t see an opening. Taking it in both hands, she threw it on the ground, where it shattered. Among the dust and rubble was a key. She picked it up and handed it to Jaden.

“Don’t look so surprised,” she whispered. “Either one of them probably locked themselves out before.”

“Either one of them?” Jaden asked as Christine came up the stairs, looking less confident than before.

“Yeah. Joseph or Anita. His wife.”

Jaden dropped the key. He had to search for it before sliding it into the door lock.

“Anita?” he hissed. “Anita is his wife? Are you serious?”

“Does it sound like a joke?”

“Anita the child therapist Anita?”

Libby nodded. “Yeah. That’s the one. Are we going to unlock the door or have a chat about this guy’s family before we kill him?”

“I agree, let’s just get this over with,” Christine said.

Jaden cursed under his breath as he unlocked the door and swung it open.

Libby raised her gun as she proceeded inside the dark house, grateful for the training she’d done with the NRA for home defense. She felt like a cop clearing a room, only there wouldn’t be a commercial to break up the suspense.