Jenny Plague-Bringer: (Jenny Pox #4) (25 page)

Juliana felt relieved when they finally disembarked at a tiny, unidentified station
in the mountains, guarded by a pair of S.S. officers in black uniforms.  Nobody was
coming or going here except Juliana, Sebastian, and their two escorts.

Niklaus loaded their suitcases into the back of an old black Brennabor sedan, the
only car in the small lot.  The car coughed and chugged its way up a newly paved mountain
road, which passed through a solid wilderness of old, mossy spruce and thick banks
of fern.  The mountain forest was unbroken until they reached a fork in the road. 
They stayed to the right, while a smaller road branched off to the left.

The steep road took them up toward a brick wall with square towers at each end.  As
they drew closer, Juliana saw guards in the watchtowers, partially shielded by metal-grill
walls, with machine guns mounted below the grillwork.  A coil of wire ran across the
top of the brick wall, and the gate was made of steel doors.  Juliana had imagined
a place that looked sort of like a college, set among trees and mountain streams,
but this looked more like a prison than any kind of research lab.

“Do not fear,” Alise told her, seeing the look on her face. “It is all for our security. 
The inside is nice.”

“Okay,” Juliana replied.  She couldn’t think of anything else to say.  She had a sudden
urge to announce that she’d changed her mind and wanted to go home right away.

Guards were posted at the gate, and they spoke briefly to Alise before opening up
for them.  Niklaus drove them inside.

Juliana didn’t think the interior was at all nice, either.  The brick wall was actually
a big square perimeter, with a guard tower at each corner.  There were four low, squarish
buildings, single-story and made of plain concrete, and a long brick building like
a warehouse along the western wall.  She saw some smaller structures that she took
for strangely tall brick water walls, circular and with slanted tin roofs mounted
a few feet above them.  As they passed one, she saw that it had a whirling electrical
fan inside, and seemed to be sucking down a large quantity of air.

Niklaus parked in front of one of the squat concrete buildings and climbed out of
the car.

“We’re not staying here, are we?” Sebastian asked. “We’re just stopping here for a
minute, and then driving on to the real place.  Right?”

“This is the end of your long journey,” Alise told him.  Niklaus opened the door for
Alise and held her hand as she stepped down.

“I knew we couldn’t trust that Barrett guy,” Sebastian whispered to Juliana.

“Then why did you come?” Juliana whispered.

“To watch out for you. I knew you wouldn’t turn down a chance to find a cure.”

“I don’t have as much hope for that now.  This place feels wrong.” Juliana sighed. 
Niklaus opened her door and offered his hand, but she shook her head at him as she
climbed out. 

They carried their luggage inside the low concrete building, where a single guard
sat at a desk in front of a heavy steel door, like the door to a bank vault.  He exchanged
a few words with Alise as he stood and unlocked the door, and then he grunted as he
hauled it open.

Juliana and Sebastian leaned forward, curious.  Beyond the door, a wide concrete staircase
descended deep underground, lit on both sides by a row of electric bulbs.

“Down here.” Alise smiled and led the way, her polished black flats echoing with each
step.

Juliana and Sebastian held hands as they followed, Sebastian’s suitcase bumping as
it dragged along the stairs.  Niklaus followed, and the guard heaved the door shut
behind them.  It slammed with an echoing clang, like the door of a prison cell.

The stairway took them to an underground hallway, as brightly lit as a hospital and
wide enough to drive a truck through.  The floor was concrete, but the walls were
plastered white and hung with huge pictures.  Some depicted German historical events
Juliana didn’t recognize, mostly large battles.  Others were different pictures of
the same man, an odd, stern-looking person with a Charlie Chaplin mustache.  From
the German text on the posters, Juliana guessed this was the politician who so excited
Alise, Chancellor Hitler.  Stormy classical music echoed from somewhere.

“Boys,” Alise said, pointing to the right. Then she pointed to the left and said,
“Girls.” She smiled at Juliana, while Niklaus returned Juliana’s suitcase to her.

“Sebastian and I can’t stay together?” Juliana asked.

“We stay on separate halls,” Alise said. “Men and women together on the same hall
would be
too
much fun.”

“Can’t we just stay together for the first night?” Sebastian asked. “While we get
accustomed to this place?”

“You will accustom fast,” Alise said. “We will see each other again at dinner, very
soon.  Maybe even screen a movie tonight, to celebrate that you are here?”

“That sounds nice,” Juliana said.

“This way.  No need to fear.” Alise started walking away.

Juliana gave Sebastian a quick hug and a kiss.

“Are you going to be okay?” Sebastian asked.

“I hope so.” Juliana gave him a smile, though she was feeling scared and lost. “I’ll
see you at dinner, I suppose.”

He hugged her again. “If anybody gives you any trouble,” he whispered in her ear,
“Just kill them.”

Juliana laughed as she reluctantly stepped away from him and followed Alise down the
corridor.

“Girls’ hall,” Alise said as she opened a pair of double doors.  The short hallway,
with five doors on each side, was carpeted and hung with pretty pieces of art, like
paintings of flowers and sunset landscapes.  The lighting fixtures were encircled
with colored glass, and the walls themselves were painted gentle pastel colors.  The
classical music was louder here, echoing from somewhere up ahead, where the hall ended
at another set of double doors.

“Oh, this
is
much nicer,” Juliana said. “I thought you were joking.”

“I always tell the truth,” Alise said. “Even when people don’t like to hear it, which
is nearly always.”

Juliana laughed, and Alise showed her to an open door.  Alise knocked on it as they
entered.

The dormitory room was wide with a high ceiling.  A bed occupied each end of the room,
with plenty of open space in between them.  Drawers, cabinets, and bookshelves were
built into the walls, many more than Juliana could imagine needing for herself.

One side of the room was empty, the walls bare except for the built-in shelves, the
bed made up with a colorful quilt thrown on top of it, which looked like it had been
made by somebody’s very talented grandmother.  The other half of the room was plastered
with pictures of Hollywood movie stars cut from magazines and newspapers.  A girl
lay on the bed there, reading a paperback, and she quickly sat up when Alise and Juliana
entered.

“
Heil,”
Alise greeted the girl, then spoke to her in a language that was neither English
nor German—French or Italian, maybe.  She gestured to Juliana and mentioned her name,
and the girl slowly nodded, glancing nervously at Juliana.  Her hair was a dark burgundy,
almost black, and her eyes were sea-green.  Her skin was olive, and she looked very
exotic to Juliana.  She wore a long black skirt and a white blouse edged with scraps
of bright color.  Her hands were gloved almost to her elbow, Juliana noticed.

“Juliana,” Alise said. “This is Mia.  She will room with you and help you find your
way around.  She is from Sicily, but knows a little English.”

“Oh...that’s good.” Juliana smiled, feeling uneasy. “Hello, Mia.”

“
Piaciri di canuscirvi.
  Hello, Juliana.” The girl waved and tried to smile, but her face showed that she
was just as nervous as Juliana felt.

“Oh, you’re going to love each other!” Alise said. “I’ll make sure of it.  I have
to report to General Kranzler and Dr. Wichtmann now, so they know you and Sebastian
arrived safely.  We’ll talk more at dinner!  Any special food requests?”

“Anything to eat would be great.  I’m starving,” Juliana said.

“I’ll make sure the cooks give you plenty!” Alise winked as she left the room.

Juliana and Mia looked at each other awkwardly. 

“Your bed,” Mia finally said, pointing to the empty side of the room and nodding.

“Thank you.” Juliana carried her suitcase to the bed and sat down.  There was another
long, awkward pause.  She looked at the pictures pasted around Mia’s bed.

“You like movies?” Juliana asked.

“Yes!” Mia said, with an exuberant grin, probably just happy to have something to
talk about. She pointed to one of the pictures, an advertisement for the film
Red Dust
with Clark Gable and Jean Harlow locked in a passionate embrace. “I lived in Rome
for a time, many films.  You like Clark Gable?”

“Yes, he’s very handsome,” Juliana said.

“Handsome.” Mia nodded and pointed again. “Douglas Fairbanks?”

“Yes, also handsome.”

“Charlie Chaplin?”

“Very funny!” Juliana said. “I love him.”  She looked over the girl’s pictures. “You
like Mae West?”

“Mae West, yes!”

They shared a smile—Mae West was bold, flirty, and fearless, which, as a woman, made
her controversial and the talk of much scandal.  A modern, outspoken woman who just
happened to be gorgeous and glamorous.

“How long have you been here?” Juliana asked.

Mia concentrated. “Many days.  One...week?  Or is it month?”

“I’m not sure.  Do you have a touch?” Juliana raised her hands and nodded at the gloves
Mia wore. “Like me?”

Mia leaned forward, raising her eyebrows like she was about to share some good gossip.
“I see your future.” Mia stripped off her gloves and stood up, striding towards Juliana,
closing the door along the way. “I can show you.”

“No, wait!  I’m poisonous.”

Mia hesitated in mid-step. “Poisonous?”

“Yes.  I can’t help it.” Juliana took off a glove and spread her fingers.  She called
up the demon plague, letting her hand fester into open sores.

Mia gasped and stumbled back to her own bed, where she pulled up her knees protectively. 
Juliana started to regret bringing up the subject of their powers.

“I am sorry,” Juliana said. “But you should be warned.  No touching me, for your own
safety.”

“No touching.” Mia shook her head, staring warily at her now.

“I am sorry,” Juliana told her again.  She lay back on her new bed, looking up at
the pastel-pink ceiling.  She’d felt the possible beginning of a friendship with the
girl, but now she’d scared her away.  Everyone else had something useful: Sebastian
could heal, Alise could make people happy, Mia could see the future.  Only Juliana
had a useless curse, one that could only hurt people.

Even among the freaks, she was a freak.

Ward approached the grimy concrete building housing the nightclub, as well as a bail
bond place and a pawn shop that had both closed until morning.  The club was in the
half-buried basement of the strip mall, and its entrance was at the back, not visible
from the road.  Broken bottles littered the gravel parking lot, which was crowded
with cars even though it was the day after Christmas.

Two doors led into the basement.  One of them had been surrounded by chainlink to
form a smoking pen, where a few kids in spiked, dark mesh clothes smoked cigarettes. 
A boy whose earlobe had been stretched to grotesque proportions was making out with
a girl who had a long needle through her eyebrow. 

His target, Tommy, sat on a stool by the other door.  It was propped open, and the
sound of a loud band slamming their instruments pulsed out from inside the dark club.

Ward approached Tommy, flanked by Buchanan and Avery, who stayed a half-step behind
him.  They all wore thick leather gloves tonight, and he’d warned them not to touch
Tommy at all if they could avoid it.  The boy’s touch could shatter a man’s mind with
fear.

Tommy looked them over sullenly as they approached, studying their dark suits and
ties.  He smelled like he hadn’t bathed in a couple of days, and his long hair was
dirty and tangled. 

“I don’t think this is really your scene, guys,” Tommy said as they stood before him.
“Somewhere in Orange County, an Applebee’s is calling your name.”

“We didn’t come for the music or ambiance, Mr. White,” Ward said.

Tommy sat up on his stool, and his eyes widened.  He glanced among the three of them,
probably realizing that he couldn’t win a straight fight, and would need his power
if he wanted to escape.  Ward didn’t want him running just yet.

“Settle down, we’re not here to hurt you,” Ward told him. “That is your name, isn’t
it?  Thomas White?  Also known as Thomas Krueger?  Currently going by Thomas Voorhees. 
Cute.”

“Who are you?” Tommy asked.

“We are with the Department of Defense,” Ward said. “We know you escaped from a maximum-security
penitentiary in Louisiana, and the guards there would just love to have you back. 
We also know that you killed your foster father, Ben Tanner, just before you went
and caused that riot in Charleston.  Your foster mother says you were a very disturbed
boy.”