“You think you’re the only one?”
Despite the situation, a dangerous hope curls in my chest. “Is that where you’re taking me?”
“There’s a facility. Where you and others like you can get the help you need.”
“Why didn’t you say that before? In front of the others?” I ask.
“And spill your dirty little secret? You two were trying so hard to keep it.”
“So all this—all the tests and the broken equipment—was all you? Just a way to get to me?”
“With the added bonus of destroying my son’s futile career.” He says it so casually. He really believes in what he’s doing.
“Why not just take me?” But as soon as I say it, I realize I’m an idiot. “You tried.”
“Those men were weak. They let themselves be bested by you. Your powers are more out of control than I thought.”
There’s nothing I can say.
“My son has no clue. I saved him from himself. I had a weakness for a freak like you once. And I see the weakness passed to the product of that mistake.”
I drop my head to my hands, absorbing the bombardment of information. There are others like me? Nathaniel always suspected … His own mother. My head is spinning. I have so many questions, but as William seems rather chatty, I have to keep him going.
“Tell me about the facility,” I say. “How many are there like me?”
I glance at him again. His face remains unchanged. “Sixty-five, last I counted.”
“Wow, really? And are they all like me? With uh, the light?”
“No. We’ve yet to meet any of your kind.” His tone is laced in disgust.
“Who’s ‘we’? Who is funding this? Is it a private or public sector thing? What about—”
“That’s enough for now.” His voice is eerily calm but the message is clear enough.
End of discussion.
All too soon we pull up to the abandoned factory. The area is a little more worn than where I typically park when I come up here to go off. A few crushed beer cans litter the ground around the charred remnants of a campfire. A metal guardrail signals the end of the road, a NO TRESPASSING sign decorated with graffiti bolted to it.
“Get out of the car and stay where I can see you. If you move, I’ll hurt Lincoln. Do you understand?” He pulls a gun out of his suit coat.
My body starts to shake all over. “You would shoot your own son?”
“If I have to.”
William extends his long legs out of the car, his hands gripping the sides like a spider crawling out of a drainpipe.
Abruptly, he tugs open the back door. Lincoln falls out and sprawls to the ground, the action waking him. I don’t have time to react. Lincoln scrambles to his feet but having his long legs tucked under him must have caused them to fall asleep. He stumbles and leans against the car.
“Don’t go with him,” Lincoln says. His voice is strong, but he won’t look at his father. He’s putting on such a brave face. I want nothing more than to run to him and hug him but I have to get this monster away from him.
William rubs a thumb between his eyebrows. “This complicates things a bit.”
He paces two steps away and then back. My heart slams against my chest. “Well, there’s nothing to be done.” In a series of events faster than I can even follow, William takes two strides back to his son. At the same time, he pulls back the handgun and without even the slightest hesitation, swings the butt of the gun at his son’s temple.
I scream as Lincoln dodges, but just barely. His leg sweeps out and kicks his father in the stomach in one swift movement that reveals hours of practice. William makes an oomph sound as he crumples. The gun flies out of his hand and falls a few feet away. Father and son stare at each other, both in shock at the other’s action. But just for a moment.
“Run!” Lincoln yells to me.
