There aren’t any windows here either. Rigid lines of cinderblock greet me on either side. They seem to go on and on forever. Antiseptic is strong in the stagnant air, burning against the sensitive skin on my nose.
“You can’t imagine how busy I’ve been,” Cooper comments as we walk. “The serum I gave you this morning was just a start. I’m changing the world.”
Doors dot either side of us, with only slim panes of glass to peer through. I look into the next one and immediately need totake a step back, the urge to gag so strong that I retch from the sight within. The deformed figure of the man in the room no longer looks like he was once human. Layers of skin peel away from his form to leave long, infected gashes all over his body, green with puss. Like someone had flayed the tissue with an old, rusty razor. Every inch or so across his complexion a peek of the characteristic gray hue of skin gives away the cause of his suffering. The putrid smell of the rot permeates through the door, like sulfur mixed with compost and burning hair, and when the man opens his eyes, there is nothing in them but two large, bloody holes.
“For a small percentage, negative side effects can go along with some of the benefits. Sometimes I encourage them.” Cooper pulls me away, toward the end of the hall where a large, open room awaits. “There will always be casualties while progress is being made—that’s just a natural part of life. How many people died while we were discovering the flu vaccine? And I think you’ll agree that the results are highly beneficial, having experienced them yourself.”
Dread and understanding sink into the pit of my stomach, the echo of the voices I thought I had dreamed ringing in my ears. “How could you?”
“Stop being so overdramatic. I used the purified version. Nothing was ever going to happen to you.” He rolls his eyes at me like I’m being a petulant child rather than having justified reactions. “Besides, if I hadn’t done something you would be dead right now, even with your specialpowers.Though, they’re what got you into this mess to begin with.
“Oh, and you’re welcome,” he snaps. “That’s twice now that I have saved your life already, little sis.”
“GET AWAY FROM HIM.”
Zane.
My eyes find him immediately, drawn like a magnet. He is strapped to a sinister-looking leather medical chair. Cold, sterile, silver instruments fill every inch of flat surface and menacing vials of gelatinous liquid in bright neon rainbow colors decorate the walls. Small rolling tables litter the ground every few feet in the space. The air crackles on my skin, so thick with chemical vapers that I imagine it would take very little to ignite. Several computer monitors flash random numbers across their screens and a softbeepemanates from an IV monitor attached to Zane’s arm.
His eyes are wide open, angry and frightened. The white mask that hunts my nightmares sits on a tray table beside him. Blood drips slowly down his cheek from a long gash on the left side of his temple. His normally pristine attire is covered with ichor and filth so thick it embosses the slick black fabric of his suit. Several fingers are bent at sickening angles on his left hand.
“God, Cooper.” My voice cracks on his name. “How did you get involved in all of this?”
Zane groans, his expression turning pained and imploring. “He’s C.”
Cooper looks at me, his eyes dark and dangerous, like a farmer about to slaughter a sheep. Devoid of any humanity. And I know. Of course, I know.
33
KAYE
“No,” I gasp, choking back nausea.
No one else in my family can do things like me, at least no one that I know of, except maybe my brother, Cooper. He’s never lost a patient, even when all others thought the cause was lost…
“You?Youcreated Rose?” I struggle to push down the emotions that are threatening to overtake me, fighting back tears of anger and actively working to get my breath back.
Was it always so much work just to remember to breathe?
“I’m saving lives. Anyone can see that,” he states, as though betraying everything good and decent in the world is common sense. As if it were the only logical solution.
“Are you using your drug to save lives or are you making a profit from addiction?”
My anger spikes as I think of our father. I feel a thread hanging in my mind and I tug on it, my mind exploding with memory. Peter Grace. The man who sold his daughter and his morality for a lifetime of syringes.
“Youknewabout Dad’s Rose addiction,” I accuse.
“I found out about it a couple of years ago,” he calmly responds, staring me down with an expression of pure intensity.“I told you to stay away from him. It’s not my fault that you don’t know how to listen. And it’s not as though dealing with your little outbursts around town has been fun for me, Kitty. Do you know how many of your messes I have had to clean up?”
“Poor baby,” I spit. “Fuck. You. You knew, and you still sent me into that hellhole to die.”
“Imagine my shock,” he continues, as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “When I got the news that Checkmate had been captured by the CCP. I knew sooner or later you would wise up to what was happening in New Malcolm and look for the responsible party. Knew you’d flip faster than a coin and that Checkmate would have to be dealt with. I knew how to deal with a stranger that had outlived her usefulness. Then imagine, if you will, my utter panic when I discovered that the woman who would ruin everythingwas my little sister.”
How did I not see it before?
“You are my responsibility,” Cooper says. “So I looked to the one person I knew would be interested in purchasing you, who would actually have the means and wouldn’t look strange at the auction. The one person I trusted to keep you safe.”
“You’re a fucking bastard,” Zane grinds out, muscles straining as he pulls against his restraints.
