Runner: The Fringe, Book 3 (29 page)

“Starting with Windmere, I imagine.” Jynx prayed Foster really had delivered the cylinders to Michael “Overlord” Parker. She couldn’t save everyone, but saving a man hated almost as much as she was filled Jynx with a strange satisfaction.

“Very good!” Victoria reached out as if to pat her on the head, but Jynx ducked her hand. “I see the Fringe has changed you. You’re not quite so simple-minded anymore.”

“I never was. I just believed in what I was doing.” Jynx wanted to say more, but there was no point. Victoria would only take her earnest words and mock her further.

“I know. How delicious. Without you, we never would have found the cure or the delivery system.”

“You’re welcome.”

Narrowing her eyes, Roberts laughed. “You still don’t get it, do you? You will forever be the most despised person on this world and every other. Not a soul knows your truth but me. It’s a good thing your family is already dead, because the populace is so hungry for blood, they’d go after them.”

Jynx didn’t react, even though she wanted to. For the first time ever, she wanted to plow her fist into another human face. Fighting the urge down, Jynx strove to keep her cool, impassive façade. No matter how good hitting her would feel, Jynx knew her pleasure would be short lived. It was almost as if Roberts’s wanted her to lash out so she could rub the loss of the last bit of her manners in her face.

Disappointed, Roberts shrugged casually. “Doesn’t matter.” Roberts inspected her watch, then cast Jynx a look of utter disdain. “I’m off to get my reward for destroying you.”

“When you haven’t,” Jynx pointed out. “I know the truth, and you know the truth. Somehow, as crazy as it seems, I find that very satisfying.”

“Enjoy it while you can, because even now, you’re already dead.”

“Perhaps.” Jynx shrugged. “But you’ve been dead your whole life. This makes you feel no more alive than anything else, because nothing can fill the void in you, Roberts. You’re nothing but a gaping hole.”

“Down again?” Foster nodded to the scanner that he should have had to pass through to gain access to the courthouse. Security had already diminished now that Jynx was supposedly dead. Too, night was falling, and most of the people who worked around this area were long gone.

“Been on the fritz all day.” The officer slapped the unit twice, glared, then waved Foster through without checking his bonafides. “Send Steve up here, would you? He’s probably picking his nose and eating it in the security room.”

“I really don’t have time for this,” Foster returned, checking his watch. “I’ve got to check in with the officer on deck in less than ten.”

“Come on, you got time. Send idiot-boy up here. Do a guy a favor.”

Rolling his eyes, Foster said, “You owe me a pass. Beyond the fritzing scanner.”

Flipping him away with impatient fingers, the guard agreed. Foster made his way down the hall to the room that housed security and repeated what the officer had said.

Mumbling how it wasn’t his fault that Gary didn’t know how to run the scanner properly, the tech asked Foster to cover for him while he went to check it out.

Sighing with an impatient air, like a man with a million other things to do, Foster agreed but told him to hurry. “Seven minutes till I have to check in. You make me late—”

“I won’t. I’ll owe you one, okay?”

It made him a little nervous that it was this easy to get inside. Darting his gaze, he found the main unit and slapped an off-on-off to it. Wonderful device. In five minutes, it would start randomly shutting various systems off and turning other systems on. Off-on-off. Foster chuckled. It would keep the bulk of the officers busy while he spirited Jynx away.

Pounding in a set of instructions that would bypass the off-on-off, Foster then stood at the post until the tech returned. Four minutes all told.

Agreeing that Gary was an idiot and likely responsible for the constant scanner failure, Foster left security and made his way to the north end of the courthouse. Hiding in an alcove, he waited. When the lights went out, Foster’s brown contact lenses switched to night vision. Another wonderful invention the IWOG should have armed their officers with but didn’t because of the cost. While they fumbled around in the dark, he made his way down to the cells in the basement.

Halfway to his goal, he met another officer coming his way.

“What the hell is going on?” the woman asked with a somewhat hysterical voice as she clutched the walls, trying to make her way in the dark.

“Probably another glitch in the system. Pull yourself together and get to the main floor. Report to the O on D.”

“Yes, sir.” She straightened and made her way up to the main floor.

Foster gave similar orders to everyone he encountered until he was close to the main door that went to the north cells. He knew Jynx waited beyond because traces of the iridescent paint were still visible to his scanner.

The two officers who guarded the double-hung doors did not move from their posts. Resolute, they stood, guns drawn and pointed into the darkness. From the way they scanned the area, he guessed these two had night-vision contacts. Finally, a challenge.

Foster hung back, took a slender tube from his belt, pulled two little surprises from a pouch, placed the first in the tube and puffed up his cheeks.
Fffitt.
It flew straight into the neck of one of the officers. Down he went. Before the other even realized, Foster hit him with the other dart. Down he went. Prepared for a ballistic frontal assault, they didn’t expect a sly-boots approach.

Ducking back, Foster waited for reinforcements, but none came, so he moved to the two men who lay motionless. He plucked out his handmade darts, put them away, then handcuffed the two men together with their own hardware. They weren’t dead but were gonna wish they were when this was all over.

Pushing open the door, Foster recoiled with a screech when a bright blue blast ripped across his left arm. Thankfully, his smart contacts shut down so he wasn’t blinded, but his arm felt like molten lava burbled on it.

Drawing his pistol, he ducked behind the partially opened door, leveled his gun and fired. In a blaze of blue, the chest of the IWOG officer exploded.

Entering the hallway, dodging left and right with a low crouch, Foster took out another guard. Then a third who came running down the hall.

Foster waited for more guards. None came.

Stunned, warily cautious, he made his way to the glowing blip of Jynx on his scanner. She was now less than fifty feet away. What had appeared to be too easy really was. Everything was coming together without a hitch.

A shrieking alarm went off and Foster groaned. “Shit.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Murderous rage flared in Roberts’s eyes, and Jynx knew she’d gone too far.

“A gaping hole?” Roberts demanded. “Screw waiting around for your baby. I’ll put you brain dead on life support after I kill you with my bare hands.” Roberts launched herself at Jynx, her hands seeking her neck.

Jynx fought back with every survival instinct she’d tamped down. Up came all her anger, hatred and fury. Jynx smashed her fist into Roberts’s mouth.

Roberts’s lip split, and she crashed to the floor of the cell, utterly stunned.

Pulling her hand back, shaking it, Jynx feared she’d broken her thumb. She realized she should have put her thumb on the outside of her fist, not the inside. A beginner’s mistake that she would not repeat.

Dropping to the floor, Jynx straddled Roberts, pulled back her left fist and smashed it into Roberts’s eye. It connected awkwardly but didn’t hurt so much this time with her thumb on the outside. Even though the blow hurt her hand, it still felt incredibly good. Shockingly good.

She expected guards to rush in, but then she realized they were far away because Roberts had wanted privacy to torment her. Jynx shot her fist out again. Roberts’s head jerked to the side to avoid the blow, causing Jynx to hit her temple.

Struggling, Roberts flung her head side to side as she attempted to lift her hands to protect her face.

Pinning her down, Jynx grasped Roberts’s hair and gripped it with her injured right hand as she struck her left fist with clumsy but furious blows to Roberts’s face.

“I’m not just going to sit here and let you kill me without a fight.” Revulsion at how good beating Roberts felt didn’t stop her from hitting her again and again. Roberts wasn’t going to keep her alive anymore, so Jynx fought with everything she had. Forcing herself to Roberts’s mind, if only to cause pain, Jynx shoved her mind so forcefully to Roberts’s, her powder-blue eyes went wide.

“Hurts, doesn’t it? It hurts worse than anything you’ve ever felt in your life. I’m in there with you now, in that gaping hole of your sick mind.” She pushed deeper, determined to seat herself firmly in Roberts’s brain, and then she realized she could take over her body. The links from her brain to her nerves to her muscles were clearly defined—all Jynx had to do was tug upon them, and Roberts would move like her puppet. Simultaneous enjoyment of her power and horror of it pulled Jynx back.

Clawing desperately at her, Roberts struggled, her eyes squinted shut in anguish as Jynx continued to force herself into that utter black mind as her left fist nailed blow after blow to Roberts’s flinching face.

Working her arm free, Roberts swiped her manicured nails across Jynx’s cheek. Flimsy and weak, the false nails bent easily and broke off without inflicting much damage.

“My life has been devoted to helping people. That you turn me into the creator of the Tyaa plague when I am the power behind the cure sickens me to no end. You unbelievable, malicious bitch.”

Struggling in vain, terror making her eyes wide for the first time Jynx had ever seen, Roberts whined, “You’re hurting me!”

Capturing her hand, pinning her down, Jynx said, “I’m not the same woman, and I don’t think I ever will be again.”

Before Roberts could scream for help, Jynx grabbed the covers off the bed and stuffed them into Roberts’s mouth.

Sudden darkness startled Jynx, but she didn’t let up her hold on Roberts. Off in the distance, she heard the slap of running feet, orders being shouted and panicked guards looking for guidance.

“Code and duty. They can’t think for themselves, can they?” Jynx kept Roberts thoroughly pinned. “No one is coming to save you. In fact, I think someone is coming to save me.”

Jynx heard panicked IWOG officers, a bare trusted handful, clustered together at the far end of the hall that housed the cells. On the opposite end there was a small door that not a soul went in or out of. Pretending a bored curiosity, Jynx had found out that that door went from this cell room to an elevator that went nonstop to the roof. “Upper E,” the officer had said, meaning the upper echelon. He’d rolled his eyes and mocked the self-importance of his superiors.

A blast of blue from the far end of the hallway startled her, but she kept the pressure on Roberts with her mental connection. Closing her eyes tight, Jynx listened. Another blast. Shortly followed by a third.

“He’s here.” Jynx didn’t open her eyes. An alarm blared, but Jynx held steady. Shortly, she heard sly feet come her way. Air swirled around her, and she caught a whiff of male cologne. Old, worn, put on hours ago. Mingled with it, she found a taste of salt, Hallertauer hops, and straining need.

“Foster.”

He recoiled. Jynx sat atop a wriggling body and turned her head toward him in the dark. Night-vision contacts made her eyes shine metallic green as her hair glowed preternaturally bright.

“I know it’s you. I can taste you from here.” Jynx tossed her head back, then crushed the slight wiggle of the body below hers.

“Jynx?” By all that was fair, Jynx should have been astounded at his arrival. Instead, she gazed at him, obviously pleased he’d finally shown up.

“It’s me. Guess who this is?”

Since his contacts made everything in the room monotone green and black, Foster peered closely as he jammed a break to the durosteel bars that separated him from Jynx. Popping with a metallic
snick
, the device deactivated the lock. Foster yanked the door open and joined Jynx on the floor.

“Roberts.” Foster couldn’t believe it. Where his plan could go wrong in a million ways and did, it went right in a way that shocked him profoundly.

“Jynx Brennan, space doctor.” Grinning impishly in the dark, Jynx asked, “How’s Mr. Nash?”

“Mr. Nash is shocked right out of his skin, Sweets. Never met a woman like you. Bold and brazen and don’t it beat all that you go me one better every damn time.” Even though Jynx couldn’t see him, she worked with him to take Roberts into custody, almost as if she felt him in the dark.

“That door, that one over there.” Jynx pointed with an accuracy that astonished him. “She’s been trying to get there. Her personal transport is waiting to take her to Banna to receive an award for killing me. Did you know that? That I’m dead?”

“Yeah. Saw the vid on the trans, but I knew it wasn’t you. The eyes were all wrong.” He stood, pulled Jynx to her feet and kissed her. Peace stole over him as soon as their lips touched. On a long, deep sigh, Foster pressed a dozen kisses to her forehead as he crushed her to his embrace. He thanked every god in every pantheon that he knew for allowing him to hold her one more time.

Roberts spit the covers out of her mouth and took a gasping breath. “What in the hell are you doing here? You’re in violation of the contract, Nash. I’m going to have you—”

Ripping a strip off the sheet, Foster gagged Roberts. “I promised to deliver her, but I didn’t say anything about not stealing her back.” Foster pulled Roberts to her feet and leaned into her, right up into her fury-gripped face. “Told you security on this place blows. You got to kill her, but I get to keep her.”

Struggling, trying to wriggle free, Roberts spit and hissed behind her gag.

“Don’t worry,” Foster said to Roberts, “we’re taking you with. You’re our get-out-of-jail-free card.” Jamming his gun into Roberts back, he forced her to the door. Jynx followed behind him.

“How can you see in the dark?” Jynx asked.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing. Night-vision contacts. Very handy. Just put your hand on my belt and follow along.”