Flawed (Perfection) Page 6

  Even with death threatening, the prisoner had remained loyal to the Resistance. The wounds Commandant Baer had inflicted should have at least elicited a scream, a pathetic mew, but the male hadn’t uttered a sound. Of course, the prisoner hadn’t even begun to feel pain yet. Soon he’d be given the opportunity.

  As much as Aalexis hated to admit it, the stubbornness of the Renegades was a strong point of theirs. So were their devotion and loyalty to each other.

  It would also be their demise. Ellyssa had already proven that when she’d risked her own life to save Rein’s.

  Aalexis had hoped the prisoner would succumb to the comparatively mild torture of the Commandant, but she knew such would not be the case. Doc had other welts in different stages of healing.

  As much as Aalexis didn’t want the Commandant to witness her ability—the greed for power the subhumans couldn’t understand—it seemed there was going to be little choice. The thought angered her and, surprisingly, excited her at the same time. Aalexis was unsure if the excitement stemmed from the thought of hurting Doc or from the power surge from her ability.

  Much had changed since Ellyssa had destroyed The Center.

  Aalexis stepped up next to the Commandant. “Let me try.”

  Hans looked down at her, his eyes wide with surprise. She knew it was because such a request from a teen female was unheard of. His lips set firmly together as if he was thinking about denying her, but then he stepped back; the crop extended from his left hand.

  Eyeing the primitive weapon, Aalexis said, “I have no need for that.”

  “Oh,” the Commandant said, looking rather silly. He tucked the crop back under his arm.

  Aalexis pointed to a corner of the room. “Stand over there,” she ordered.

  Once again, Hans’ lips pursed into a tight line and his posture went rigid, but he still didn’t say anything. He walked over to the corner, his leather boots smacking against the linoleum.

  Aalexis returned her attention to the pitiful creature, who eyed her with trepidation, as if he knew something terrible was about to happen. If Ellyssa had shared the secrets of The Center, most likely he had an inkling.

  She settled onto her haunches, at eye level with the prisoner. “I will ask you only once,” she stated. “What news do you have of Ellyssa? Where has she gone?”

  Doc’s pleading gaze swept from her to her brother, then to the Commandant, who stood obediently where Aalexis had sent him.

  Finally, Doc looked back at her. “I don’t have anything to tell you,” he mumbled, his voice firm. Defiantly, he pushed himself into a sitting position.

  “That is an unfortunate answer for you,” she emphasized, standing. “Xaver.”

  She felt the air disturbance as her brother reinforced the energy bubble that cocooned them from outside forces, then created a small hole for Aalexis to focus her energy through. She squared her shoulders and stared deep into the betrayer’s eyes, locking him within her gaze.

  Powerful tingles coursed through Aalexis and tickled her skin as her sight blurred and the room transformed. Everything shifted into simplicity as she zeroed in on the subatomic particles. She couldn’t actually see them, per se, for even her eyesight was too weak, but within her mind, they formed and, with the formation came understanding of their inner workings, their vibrations. Billions upon billions, the air hummed with the particles.

  Twelve years ago, it’d been a simple connection when she’d first moved the block with the letter A with nothing more than wishing it so. How everything was made up of energy. Once she’d made the association, it’d been a matter of time to train her mind to visualize and manipulate, to send the commands. Because even thoughts were energy, nothing more than electrical impulses twitching with potential.

  Unfortunately, it was that same energy which had allowed Ellyssa to slam the door onto the burning inferno Aalexis had created in her sister’s mind when Ellyssa had stupidly risked her life for the inferior being, Rein. An unfortunate setback.

  The purr of the vibrations brushed against Aalexis’ sensitive skin, making the hair on her arms stand on end. But she was looking for a distinct vibration, and quickly discarded the particles with the wrong atmosphere until she found the familiar repetition of the atoms that made up the molecular structure of the inner thermal nociceptor. She saw it clearly in her mind—the soma, the dendrites that forked into tree-like limbs, the axon that stretched into the spinal cord. Sending out her own energy stream, she latched onto the cellular body. Within a second, Aalexis’ force surrounded the pain receptors of the inadequate human.

  Afterward, Aalexis’ vision cleared, and her lips hid a smile. Burn, she commanded, her thought mimicking damaged tissue.

  At one moment, Doc was looking at Aalexis with confusion and fear; the next, his face contorted, his mouth tightened and his eyes bugged. He struggled against the phantom pain, tried to fight it by covering his face with his hands and biting his palms. But fighting something that wasn’t really there, a hallucination, was impossible. The prisoner couldn’t hide from his own mind.

  Aalexis knew his struggle wouldn’t last long; Rein had also tried that with little success. In the end, Rein had screamed.

  Aalexis tweaked the neurons a bit more, the imaginary flames growing to an inferno. Slowly, the inferior being slid from his upright position and writhed on the floor, back arching. Screams followed, echoing around the cement bricks.

  Watching the male squirm on the floor like the worm he was, Aalexis’ heart accelerated at the release of dopamine and endorphins. Such feelings were forbidden, but even her father had felt excitement. She’d seen the way his eyes had lit when he’d studied her, even though he’d tried to contain the feeling. Why shouldn’t she, also, take pleasure on her quest to complete his work? Her father should be proud.

  Sweat beaded on Doc’s forehead and ran into his greying dark hair, forming matted clumps. His tanned skin blotched with red.

  Disgust for the creature twisting in agony sickened her. How could such insects flourish within their society? Walk on the Earth? One day soon, all inferiority would feel pain. And afterwards, they all would be exterminated. Including the ones acceptable by society’s standards, like Commandant Baer. She glanced over her shoulder.

  Face slack, eyes wide, jaw hanging open like a simpleton, Hans stood frozen. The crop hung from his lax hand.

  Since Aalexis had first walked through Commandant Baer’s door, she’d witnessed his feeble attempts to hide his anxiety, gathering bits of courage to defy her. It served him well to be put in his place, to know true perfection. Finally, he understood he was nothing. How could he not? The corner of her mouth curled.

  Facing forward, she released her grip. Doc curled on his side, chest heaving with rattled breaths. He didn’t call any names as Rein had, but then again, he hadn’t even begun to taste the pain Rein had endured.

  Doc moaned, arms wrapping around his midsection; the aftereffects of her torment still burned, like embers of a dying fire. Still, he said nothing.

  “Would you like more?” Aalexis asked.

  Doc shook his head, then looked at her in desperation. “Please.”

  “Talk.”

  He shook his head, again. “I can’t. Please.”

  Doc’s plea landed on deaf ears. Aalexis was incapable of feeling pity for the creature. The brief stint of pleasure and disgust had left. She felt hate, though. An urge to finish him off.

  But it wasn’t time for that yet. If the creature refused to divulge the information she sought, then she had other plans for him. Her sister’s devotion to the one called Rein had enlightened her. Maybe Ellyssa’s allegiance extended to other members of the Renegade family. Until then, though, she could make Doc wish he had done what she’d requested.

  Tears dropping onto the floor, Doc reached out to her as if seeking help. Aalexis stepped back. Of course, the insect couldn’t actually touch her; Xaver’s shield protected her, but she still didn’t like the thought.

 
“Unfortunate.”

  Aalexis ignited the flames once again.

  7

  With stomachs full and dishes cleared, everyone sat around the table. For the time being, conversation steered away from pressing matters, which suited Ellyssa just fine. She felt awkward with the lingering tension. She wanted nothing more than just to forget for a while. Closing her eyes, Ellyssa settled back in her chair; sleep tugged at the edges of her mind.

  “To answer your question,” Trista said, collapsing Ellyssa’s reverie like an imploding star, “no, but he is trying.”

  Apparently, the moment for relaxation was over. “Who’s trying what?” Ellyssa inquired.

  “Dyllon is searching for survivors,” she answered. “And by the way, I still want to know what’s up with all the freaky he’s telling the truth stuff?”

  Exhaling, Ellyssa deflated. The moment had come, and all she wanted to do was slip into a bed and mull over everything, alone. Or, better yet, forget and sleep. She glanced at Rein, who squeezed her shoulder, then at Woody, who gave her a “go ahead” nod.

  “It’s hard to explain,” she started. She didn’t know how to continue. She still remembered the way Rein had reacted, although, Mathew, Jordan and Woody had accepted the truth rather easily.

  Raising her eyebrows, Trista prodded. “And?”

  “I can read minds,” she blurted out. The finality of it all blanketed the kitchen with silence.

  After a moment passed, then two, Tim broke the silence, a frown tugging his brow. “Have you always had this ability?”

  Nodding, Ellyssa responded, “Since I was a child.”

  The older male eyed her for a moment longer, thoughtfully, then looked at Sarah. “It’s true.”

  “Seems that way.”

  Shocked, Ellyssa leaned forward. “You knew?”

  “Kind of, but we didn’t know it was you—at least, not one hundred percent certain. We wondered, with you being from The Center and all. The contacts in Chicago had sent word of the experiments at The Center. It was mostly whispers here and there, nothing concrete. It seemed they had a—a double agent, for lack of a better word, working with one of the doctors.”

  Ellyssa nodded. “Yes, Leland. He worked with my father, Dr. Hirch.”

  “I believe those were the names, weren’t they, Sarah?” he said, looking at his wife.

  “I believe so.”

  “Yep, there isn’t much more than that, except… Do you have brothers and sisters?”

  “I had brothers, and only one sister.”

  “And they had abilities, too, I take it. Moving things without touching them, able to tell the future, stopping people from moving, things like that?”

  “Not completely accurate, but, yes. It doesn’t matter now; they are all dead.”

  “And it’s a good thing, too,” said Rein, “with what Dr. Hirch had planned.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, Rein and Woody gave them a shortened version of the events leading up to the destruction of The Center, her father’s plans, and how she and her siblings were prototypes of an Aryan breed that was even more superior and capable of destroying them all.

  Not wanting to relive the past, or revisit the guilt still tingeing her mood, Ellyssa sank back in the chair, trying to make herself invisible. Finally, Rein finished. The worst was over. Everything lay before her extended family to pick through and examine.

  Thoughtful, Tim pulled at his beard. He stopped and locked eyes with Ellyssa. “You don’t happen to have any files or anything left, do you?

  Sighing on the inside, Ellyssa shook her head. “Everything was destroyed with The Center.”

  Tim’s hands caressed his beard again. “It’s better that way. No one should mess around with the natural order of things. No one should play god. That’s the downfall of Hitler’s plan, you know?”

  “Can you do it now?” Trista chimed, thankfully, breaking into the conversation before Ellyssa could answer her host.

  Tired of talking about the whole ordeal, every word bringing up stabbing memories, especially when Rein had recounted the events of his torture, Ellyssa glanced at her friend. Trista flashed a smile and fidgeted in her seat.

  “I could.”

  “Would you?”

  Uncomfortable, Ellyssa looked at Rein. He just shrugged.

  She shook her head. “I don’t like to. It’s like an invasion of privacy.”

  “So, what? You can control it?”

  “I can block your thoughts.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Trust,” Ellyssa stated, simply. “That, and with thoughts streaming nonstop, I had to learn to build…a type of wall. People are loud.”

  “Oh.” Trista looked disappointed for a moment. Slowly, her lips curled into a grin. “But, if I’m giving you permission, then it isn’t an issue of trust. Tell me what I’m thinking.”

  Ellyssa couldn’t help but smile. Trista’s blue eyes lit with expectation. Concentrating on her enthusiastic friend, she opened the door. Good feelings thrummed inside Trista, all buzzy and excited. Trista concentrated hard on the number seventy-two, but, gradually, an image of Dyllon dominated over the digits. His sea-green eyes, his smile, the kiss they’d shared out in the barn the day before Trista had left to explore the cave and find them.

  The way Dyllon had looked at Trista before he’d leaned over and softly brushed her lips reminded Ellyssa of Rein and they way he kissed her. Slightly embarrassed, Ellyssa closed the door.

  “Are you sure you want me to tell you what you’re thinking?” Ellyssa asked, cocking an eyebrow.

  Confident, Trista folded her arms across her chest. “Go ahead.”

  “Don’t you believe I can read your mind?”

  “It’s not that I don’t believe; it’s more like it’s hard to believe.”

  “Suit yourself. You’re thinking about Dyllon.” Out of respect and definitely not wanting to cause anymore problems, Ellyssa left out the kissing part. A vein was already pulsing in Rein’s temple at the mention of his name, and Woody didn’t look too pleased, either.

  “Nope. You’re wrong. I was thinking of the number seventy.”

  Smiling, Ellyssa shook her head. “Actually, you were thinking the number seventy-two, then Dyllon came into your thoughts.”

  Red flushed Trista’s face as her lips parted in astonishment. Woody chuckled, and amazement widened Tim and Sarah’s eyes. Rein’s chest puffed out in what Ellyssa assumed was pride, even with the pulsing vein. Dyllon was going to be a subject of controversy. Hopefully not tonight.

  Trista narrowed her eyes. “Okay, you can get out now. You made your point.”

  Ellyssa put her hands up in surrender. “I told you.”

  Her friend’s eyes shifted from side to side. When she made sure no one was watching, she mouthed, “Thank you.” For not telling exactly what she’d seen, Ellyssa assumed. Apparently, Trista didn’t want to get into it either.

  8

  Rein stood in the shower. Hot water cascaded down his face and body and puddled on the blue tile before seeping down the drain. He wished the plague of his memory could join the water, but instead the images of his fallen family had engraved themselves into the folds of his brain, forever a part of him.

  Swallowing a growing lump forming in his throat, Rein looked up, willing the tears away, refusing to blink. Steam rose in humid clouds and escaped over the glass door into the bathroom.

  All his life, Jordan had tried to prepare him for the possibility of the demise of their band of Renegades, his family and friends. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight they’d found in the depths of their old home. All the faces frozen in surprise…in fear. Dead eyes staring into nothingness. Men. Women. The children. All had been gunned down as if their lives held no meaning.

  Rein pulled his fingers through his wet hair, then rested his head against the tiles. Water fell onto the back of his neck and ran between his shoulder blades. He wanted the thoughts to stop. Of course, they didn’t. />
  The whole thing with the captain was another chapter. Dyllon was very lucky Ellyssa had been there, or his corpse would had been lying in a shallow grave. Rein could still feel his fingers digging into the man’s flesh, his intent to choke the life from Dyllon; he could still feel the cold satisfaction at the look on the man’s face, his eyes bulging in their sockets.

  At the sight of him, memories had flooded through Rein, like currents of a river. The blond bitch who’d captured him and turned him over to Dr. Hirch, then to…Aalexis. Even with the heat of the water, a shiver shot up his spine. The torture he’d endured; he’d never felt anything like it, and the blonde girl with the angelic features hadn’t even laid a finger on him.

  If Dr. Hirch had been able to carry forward with his genetic manipulation…

  Rein shook the thought away. Dr. Hirch didn’t pose a problem anymore.

  He couldn’t shake away the images of the lifeless bodies or the pain. Those were memories he wanted to leave buried, never to explore or think about again. He slid down the tiled wall to his backside, wrapping his arms around his knees.

  Rein didn’t know how long he’d sat at the bottom of shower, filing away all that had happened, but the water started to lose heat. He looked up into the cascade; cold drops plunked against his face.

  No more.

  If he was going to continue, he was going to have to accept that the ones who were gone were gone, and appreciate who he had left. And hope that somehow an opportunity would arise leading them to Doc, to Eric, to everyone else who was missing.

  Hope.

  Resigned, Rein stood, turned the water off and stepped free of the shower, stepped free of the chains of his sorrow. There was too much to do; he could not allow himself to wallow around in his regret and grief. The Renegades had always survived, somehow, always. Jordan had taught him to endure, to continue, and Rein would be damned if he didn’t do whatever he could to make sure all who were left were reunited.

  He dried off and exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. The hallway was dark save for a night light leading the way to the room Tim and Sarah had afforded him and Woody. Ellyssa was one room over. Rein hoped she wasn’t asleep; he wanted to feel her arms around him before he went to bed. He padded down the foyer and knocked on Ellyssa’s door. When she didn’t answer, he let himself in.