Sanctuary (35 page)

“Carter is no better than the Chemist. He wants to use you up, advancing his agenda. You belong with me. Not with him.”

“Carter is a hard man. But he’s not an evil one.”

He chuckled but his eyes remained flat. “That’s what the Chemist’s henchmen say about their boss, too.”

“What would I even do here? After this is all over? I’d need a job.”

“Are you kidding? You’d be the best cop on earth.”

I grinned. “I’d be pretty good at that.”

“Holy crap, yes. Two months flat, crime would stop cold. Besides, I think the Chemist is right about one thing; we shouldn't be hiding. You were born with traits that others don’t have. You could use them to make money. Probably a lot of money. Legally.”

I shook my head. We were getting side-tracked. “But Chase, in the meantime. There’s a megalomaniac out there. And he’s dying. And he wants you to be the face of his new empire. And our best chance of getting him is in Houston. Then life can go back to normal.”

Before he could argue, the breeze shifted and tossed strands of his hair. He froze. His eyes sharpened and he stood up. I felt it too. The falling dusk air carried something new. The hairs on my neck rose in alarm. There was…something…

“Do you feel that?” he whispered.

“Yeah. One of us. An Infected.”

He closed his eyes, tilting his head and inhaling deeply. He held it a long moment, let it out, and said, “Tank.”

I can move fast, but nothing compared to Chase.

We Moved, bolting toward Katie’s. I’m not sure Chase touched the ground. Tank’s distinct odor, mixed with seared flesh, became stronger as we neared. Most trick-or-treaters had gone home, thankfully.

Tank was behind Katie’s, about to leave. He had a struggling bundle of sheets hefted over one shoulder. His appearance was gruesome. Second and third degree burns coated his shoulders and face, some leaking puss, discolored and swollen. Much of his hair was missing.

The crosshairs of my .45 Beretta locked onto his left eye-socket. Our only chance. The other eye was caked shut, a coagulated mess. He backed defensively into the bricks, growling.

Chase asked, “Kidnapping again? Didn’t you already try that?”

The pile of sheets squeaked, “Chase?!”

Tank spoke in a rattle, “Not kidnapping. Just want to talk without that bitch of a mother screaming at me.”

“Fine,” I said, and I thumbed the hammer back. Unnecessary but effective. The clicking sound is so sexy. “Put her down and let’s talk.”

“Did you hurt her mom?”

“Ain’t hurt nobody, pajamas. And I won’t. This between me and her.”

“No chance, Tank.” Chase was furious, his voice a low and dangerous whisper. “You can’t have her. Not again.”

“Ain’t like last time,” Tank woofed. He was getting angrier too. Could be a problem. “Don’t want to fight. Just talk.”

Katie’s muffled voice, “
Last
time??! What last time??”

“You two little people sure you want to do this? You can’t win. I know that now.” His voice caught, and he closed his one good eye in pain and frustration. “Not even sure I
can
die.”

“I’ll think of something. Put her down.”

I kept my gun trained on him, but I needed to call for reinforcements. We couldn’t beat him, not just the two of us. There’d never been an Infected like him before.

“Tank,” Chase said, “You need a doctor. Like, serious medical care. I will help you. I swear I will.”

To my relief, he dropped Katie onto the grass, against the wall. The sheets fell away from her head. There she was, a cocoon with a beautiful face. I hated Katie for making me love her.

“This wasn’t your business,” Tank said. “Just wanted to talk, hero. Didn’t want to fight. Now, no choice.”

“Chase, Samantha,” Katie panted, tears pooling in her eyes. “Call the police! Please! He’s too strong.”

“Police?” Tank chuckled, giving Chase a long, penetrating glance. “She still ain’t know the awful truth about you?”

“I will tell her. Not you.”

“Let’s tell her together,” he grinned. Once handsome, his face was now twisted and splotchy. I almost pulled the trigger then. Almost.

Katie asked, “Tell me what?”

“Lover Boy here is a liar,” Tank said. “A secret keeper.”

“Tank,” Chase groaned, raking nails through his hair. He appeared wildly anxious, and kept glancing at Katie. “Please. Maybe this could be the one area of my life you don’t try to ruin?”

“Can’t trust him, Katie.” Tank shook his head. “Not who he says he is. He’s a fraud and a coward. Lies to you. Constantly.”

“Chase, what-”

“Katie.” Chase took a big breath. Let it out. Then he took another one. Oh wow. Now
I
was nervous. “I returned your phone that night.”

“My phone?”

“A year ago. When it was stolen? I got it back. It was me on that video. Wearing a stupid mask.”

She didn’t speak. Just stared.

“It’s been me all along. I didn’t know how to tell you. And then the whole charade got bigger and out of hand. I took you jumping on rooftops. That was me.” He was crouching now, fixing her hair, pushing it behind her ears. His fingers trembled. “I almost kissed you then, but Samantha shot me.”

“Oh yeah!” I laughed at the sudden memory. “Forgot about that. …sorry.”

“Samantha shot…how did…Chase, what?”

He continued. “I visited you. With the mask. We sat behind those pine trees and talked and you rested your head on my shoulder.”

She glanced at the pines, nodding, stunned.

“It’s me.” He pulled out the bandana and mask. “I was born weird. My abnormalities cause me to do weird stuff. Like put on masks. I’m the Outlaw.”

Katie’s eyes were large pools, capturing and holding Chase and all the galaxy within. As always when she truly looked at Chase, a rosy patina settled into her cheeks. Finally, at last, the truth was open between them. Their faces were close and the sheets rose and fell with her deep breathing. Her lips slowly turned up into the most magnificent smile I’ve ever seen. She was so beautiful it hurt.

“Really?”

He nodded. “Really.”

“Both of the men I love are found within the same man?”

“If you’ll still have me, we’re both yours.”

“This is the hottest thing ever. Why did you not tell me?”

The moment was forcibly wrenched from them. I made a mistake. I was distracted. I cared too much. I let my guard down. And Tank took advantage. Before I knew it, he had my pistol and my fist in his huge hand. His other hand was around my neck, easily raising me off the ground, squeezing. No air! I hit and kicked but it was useless. He was a statue made out of tempered steel.

Katie cried, “Samantha!”

Chase spun. Tank crushed the pistol until my fingers popped out of socket.

“You took everything from me!” Tank roared. “An eye for an eye!”

A new voice interrupted us. Lee!? Cute little Lee ran around the corner, wearing an Outlaw vest, and cried, “Not while I’m around, bitch! Bam!” He shut one eye, raised something that looked like a pistol, and fired.

In his surprise, Tank released me just as the electroshock projectile connected with his chest. Lee’s handheld device transferred a high-voltage current through the wire and into Tank’s body, an instantaneous bolt of lightning. A bright pop of blue energy, and it was over.

It was too much for Tank. The distress, the football championship, the injuries, the heartbreak, and now the electricity. He was felled like a mighty tree, unconscious.

“Oh crap. I killed him, dude.”

“No, you didn’t,” I coughed and gagged. “He’ll live. And I need one of your toys.”

Katie wondered, “Samantha, where’d you get a gun?”

Lee cried, “She’s the Los Angeles Sniper, baby! And I’m the Outlaw’s sidekick! Waaahoooo!!” He pumped his fist and started dancing around Tank’s prone body. “In your face! In your face!”

Chase picked up Katie, cocoon and all, and held her close, her face in the crook of his neck. No more distractions. No more lies. A union of souls. I pretended I wasn’t jealous of her beauty. I pretended I wasn’t jealous of their white hot happiness.

I flexed my fist, realigning bones and joints, and used my other hand to make a phone call. A familiar voice answered and I rasped, “Richard. Come to Katie’s apartment. We’ve got Tank. He needs to be restrained. Bring…bring everything you got.”

“And a doctor,” Chase called. “He’s hurt.”

I sighed, “And I suppose a doctor. But seriously, you’ll need every elasticuff you have. And chains. And tranquilizers. And the biggest straightjacket on the planet. I’m not joking, Richard. Chains.”

Richard and two squad cars arrived. The four grown men worked quickly. They bound Tank’s wrists together, behind his back. And, because I demanded it, his forearms. Then they pinned Tank’s arms tightly against his torso. Six elasticuffs so far. Next, his ankles. And finally, two cuffs connected his ankles and wrists.

He was trussed like a chicken. And it wasn’t enough.

He woke, flexed, and snapped one of the forearm locks.

The cops panicked. Richard calmly drew his X26 stun-gun, but I got there first. I pressed the big barrel of a shotgun into the soft flesh under Tank’s jaw and switched the safety off. He froze.

(“Whoa! How’d she get my shotgun?” the cop yelped. Richard lied, “I gave it to her. Now shut up.”)

“Tank,” I said reasonably, “I pull this trigger and your brain turns to jelly. It’ll be noisy and messy. And you’ll be dead.”

He made a soft noise.

“You’ve lost this round. You understand that. Right? I’d rather not kill you.”

Another quiet sound.

Chase knelt by him. “You need help. I promise I’ll come explain things as soon as I can. Our fight is over.”

Another noise. It was a whimper. He was crying. This mountain was leaking tears.

“Hurts,” he said. “Everything. All of it. Hurts.”

“Tank,” I said. “Did you kill that cheerleader? The girl on fire?”

“Told me,” he spoke between great shuddering sobs, “burning me to help Chase. Screaming. Fire. To protect him. Burning. Hurts.”

“Is she dead?”

“Don’t know. Hope so.”

Richard spoke. “I don’t want to transfer him in a squad car.”

“Smart move,” I said. “He could tear it apart.”

Richard ordered a flatbed truck. Six men hefted Tank and laid him on the cold, hard slab. A heavy chain was crisscrossed five times over his inert figure and cranked tight. The eighteen-year-old kid was being treated like Godzilla. Made sense though; he was the only living Infected the government had. Richard was part of the Hyper Human apprehension team, and this capture would surely bolster his career.

One of the uniformed cops called, “Detective, the office just radioed. News chopper inbound.”

“Fantastic,” he grumbled. “Load up. I don’t want our caravan escorted the whole way with a spotlight. Ryan, you’re riding in back with a taser.”

The cops jumped into action, and Richard walked our way. He eyeballed all of us in turn. I tried not to preen.

“Nice job…kids.” He put a thick hand on my shoulder and squeezed. It was warm and strong, and I wondered how long it’d been since I was touched like that.

“Thanks Dad,” Chase grinned.

“I zapped him, Mr. J! Zap Pow, baby!” Lee demonstrated.

“Well done, Lee. Saved the day.” Richard looked at me then. I fidgeted. “I’m in over my head. I know it. You know it. You’ll let me know how I can keep him locked up?”

I nodded, thrilled he wanted my help. “I’ll call you later.”

“Or swing by. I have a lot of questions.”

“Okay…I’ll swing by. Still have stuff in your guest bedroom anyway.”

Chase groaned under his breath.

Katie and I stayed up late talking. And kissing. Lots of kissing. That night, her perfume, her soft neck and shoulders, her lips, was pure magic.

She had questions about everything. I answered them all honestly, anything to prolong the enchantment. We talked about the Infected, and Tank, and Samantha, and the Chemist, and my headaches, and my mask, and the future. She insisted on strapping the mask to my face, which quickly led to another bout of intense making out.

After all the years. After all the longing. After all the lies. Finally we belonged to each other. Every second that our lips weren’t touching felt wasted.

Her mother had not been hurt, just knocked unconscious. She recovered, iced the back of her head for several hours, and then shooed me out the backdoor at two in the morning.

I barely slept, and then shattered my alarm clock on accident when it blared to life at six.

Puck texted me as I dressed for school.

>> hey dummy Carter is on his way

On his way to my house??

>> yes he wants u to know he comes in peace. no fighting

Thanks for the heads-up.

>> hey man. just so u know. Ive decided whatever happens, PuckDaddy will keep in touch with u. my allegiance is 2 both u and carter he will just hafta be pissd. But. i might need 2 live with u if he gets mad. need protection

That’d be AWESOME! Definitely. Come live with me.

>> was just a joke. PuckDaddy is a loner

Carter arrived four minutes later. Dad wasn’t home yet. I met Carter in the yard; no way that creep was coming into my home again. The early morning was foggy and crisp, and my grass was damp with dew.

He greeted me by saying, “I’m withdrawing my protection from Los Angeles.”

I shrugged. “Wasn’t doing a lot of good anyway.”

He ignored the insult. Usually he dressed in simple black tactical clothes. Today he wore a duster, similar to the Chemist’s trench coat. His hands were shoved into the pockets. His truck was idling. “You pack your stuff now, you can come with us. Jet goes wheels-up in ninety minutes.”

“Not leaving until the job is done. This is my home.”

“Job here is finished. He’s going to ruin as much as he can in the next twenty-four hours, and then he’s gone. Activity is ramping up in Houston. We’ll be ready.”

The next twenty-four hours?? Felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach. Today. He was attacking today.

I asked, “Ruin as much as he can? What’s his plan?”