The Revenger (10 page)

Fuck.
He couldn’t get them to understand this was urgent. It was so important. The phone call from Dr. Sethen yesterday had been especially disheartening. First, he’d had to convince the guy to even talk to him, patient confidentiality be damned, since his sister had disappeared without a trace. Toby remembered him as the doctor interested in analyzing and identifying the substance from Savvy’s crash, but they hadn’t heard from him in months.

After a long-winded and perplexing discussion about energy and a German physicist who had established that energy in one form can disappear but the same amount of energy will appear in another form, Dr. Sethen had explained that the green sludge that had burst from the truck that hit Savvy’s van and covered her face after the accident was something known as
Compound E, and until now he had not thought it actually existed
.

“It seems, Toby, that someone, somewhere has created a substance we thought was only a theory. It can hold energy in a liquid state, and that is what Savvy absorbed. I really wish she were around for a full physical because I would love to run some tests on her. Evidently the chemical lies latent inside living beings for a period before any effects can be identified, and over time it settles into their organs, binds to their blood cells.” The doctor was not nearly as good with human emotions as he was with analyzing a difficult microbiology equation.

“So, it’s like oil? Liquid energy?” Toby had jotted down various words in the small scrap of clean white space at the bottom of the newspaper.

“Yes, in that the compound is a liquid, but oil needs a stimulant—something to propel it from one state to the next by burning it, or the like. This theoretical type of liquid energy is available just sitting still. I’ve done some tests with the little bits I was able to save from Savvy’s clothes…” The doctor had seemed lost in thought as he paused. “I wish the truck hadn’t exploded. A sizable sample would help me continue testing the substance.”

Toby had pressed on the pencil until the tip snapped off. The accident had taken some very important people from this world. He didn’t give a rat’s ass about the energy slime this dude had an academic boner for. He’d pushed a question through his grinding teeth. “What did the tests tell you?”

“Well, the structure of Compound E completely defies the registered beliefs we have for energy. It has so many applications, but of course, I needed to try to replicate Savvy’s accident. I applied the substance to some mice and observed them with the help of my interns. For several weeks, there were no measurable effects, but then suddenly the mice became ridiculously strong. They could chew through their metal cages, and they attempted to bite some of the students, while others could handle the mice with no problem. Have you seen any changes in Savvy besides her depression? I’m not sure if the process and timing would be similar in humans or not.”

The doctor had listened with baited breath. Toby had felt his hopes and excitement trying to pull the answer through the phone.

“No, she was just really sad. No change at all,” he’d answered quickly, though he still had no idea why he’d felt compelled to lie. “So how are the mice doing?”

What can I expect my sister to be like when I find her, if I find her?

“Please keep in mind that mouse trials and human trials are inherently dissimilar,” the doctor had continued. “Our DNA and bone structure, intellectual functions—it’s all very different. And as you pointed out, Savvy isn’t having any of the symptoms we’ve witnessed in the mice.” The doctor cleared his throat.

All at once Toby had realized he didn’t want to know. Whatever it was, he was fine not knowing. But everything in his head had emptied out as he looked for the end button on his cell phone. How could it be so hard to find? He pressed it every damn day.

The doctor’s voice had been loud, every word clearly enunciated. “The mice have all expired. Eventually they turned on everyone, even those they’d seemed to like. In the end they seemed to get even stronger, but then they died in a rather…well, listen... Please—”

Finally he’d been able to hang up. But he couldn’t unhear the words.

He stared down into the bottom of his empty water glass. The police were still treating Savvy as a missing person. But if he didn’t find her soon, he wasn’t even sure she would be classified as a human anymore. If the mice had turned on everyone, maybe even he wouldn’t be able to talk sense into her. Maybe she wouldn’t even be found alive.

Toby wiped his hand across his lips. He would do tonight what he’d been doing every night: ride his motorcycle until his eyes were blurry, listening for the screams of scared-shitless grown men.

*~*~*~*

In the last three weeks Savvy had eaten enough frozen dinners to make her want to blow up the microwave. Tonight she and Boston sat in front of his TV with another salt-filled concoction, watching a prerecorded, steam-cleaned show. She liked to think her media was censored because Tobias was raising hell, and he was handsome enough to make the newscasters want to air his pleas for information on her whereabouts.

“You know what? If I have to eat another one of these damn meals I’m going to scream. Why do we eat such crap here?” Savvy set down her fork.

She expected him to give her some criminal-style answer, like trying to avoid being poisoned.

Instead he shrugged. “That’s all we ever have. The guys get fast food; the girls eat, like, nothing.”

Savvy’s fancy prison appeared to have all the trappings, but she knew differently now. There was no caterer, no chef. Food was only what the people in the house brought in. Some of the rooms were finely appointed, but others were sparse and cheaply furnished.

“Dude, get me the card the bastard sent me.”

Boston raised one inquisitive brow and then left to get the credit card Savvy had sworn she would never accept from the boss.

Silas Sagan sent her flowers every day—huge, exotic arrangements.

Dutifully, Boston brought them up from downstairs and handed them to Savvy. Savvy had read the first card, which was attached to the stem of a Casablanca lily:

Thinking of you ~ S.S.

She never opened another one. She’d also taken the vase to her balcony and heaved it toward the ground below. It had smashed on the sand, scattering flowers everywhere, and she’d felt his eyes race up her spine, watching her destroy from oceans away.

He must have enjoyed it, because every day the routine continued. He’d send her a vase of blooms, just to watch her toss it out like garbage. She wished there were a nice pile of her destruction accumulating below, but the groundskeepers ushered the evidence into trash bins soon after her temper tantrums were complete.

Boston returned, and Savvy took the credit card from him. It had been another gift from “Thinking of you. ~S.S.,” and unlike the flowers, which Boston didn’t seem to care about, he’d refused to let her toss it.

“It’s worth too much,” he’d told her.

At the moment, Savvy was inclined to think he might have been right. She logged on to Boston’s computer and surfed a very limited version of the Internet. She was pleased to see she had access to an online grocery store, and in no time she’d stuffed a ridiculous amount of fresh vegetables and meat into the digital shopping cart. After expediting the order, she clicked the computer shut and smiled. Soon she’d have everything she needed to make a real meal. The next dinner she and Boston shared would be homemade meatball lasagna.

Cooking in the kitchen the next day served as a renewed exercise in self-control. She usually avoided the assholes who lived in the mansion. Savvy had found a few ways to ignore the auras’ calling, to keep herself as focused as possible in the face of their distraction, in the weeks she’d been living in the strange mansion. But every time she didn’t tear the owner of a red aura to pieces, she worried she was letting Kal and Sara down. What if they were waiting as eagerly for their next visit with Savvy as she was?

And what if for one second she forgot about the accident and its horrible, horrible aftermath? That would be unacceptable because if she didn’t keep it in mind, Kal and Sara weren’t being remembered. This emotional torture was almost as challenging as the physical and mental strain of being around the auras without acting, so preparing the meal had been almost a joke. Every time someone with a red aura came close, Savvy just stood stock still, abandoning whatever task she’d been working on. Boston tensed each time, waiting to see what she would do. When she finally pulled the dish from the oven and plated their meals, they almost ran back to their rooms.

Once in the calmer context, the meal was delicious. Savvy had almost forgotten what fresh food tasted like, and it seemed she wasn’t the only one. Boston tried to hide his smile as he scraped his plate clean, and Savvy took him up on his offer to clean the kitchen.

As the days added up into weeks, Savvy had immersed herself in running. She went to the beach with Boston twice, sometimes three times, a day. And once they’d trotted up to the turnaround point, they’d begun taking a break to talk.

Talking to Boston was really pretty easy, Savvy had realized. He wasn’t worried about her mental health or lack of a soul; he just listened. She told him about Sara and what it felt like to be a mom. She told him about Kal and what it felt like to be loved. She didn’t tell him about the auras, because that seemed like information best kept under wraps. In return, she listened to him. His aura glowed gold as he explained why he was in the mansion, working for Sagan.

“While I was in Iraq, my brother got into some trouble.” Boston’s voice was always calm, but as he spoke about his brother, it had a softness as well. “He’s all I have, and he built up his gambling debts the point that he was hiding when I came back on furlough.” Boston dug his hands into the sand.

“What branch?” Savvy asked.

“Marines. I had to take a dishonorable discharge to stay here and protect him. Crap, I didn’t make nearly enough to cover his debt, but Mr. Sagan had a need for a sharp shooter, so I took the job.” Boston unburied his fists, letting the sand slip through his fingers.

Savvy made two fans in the sand with her sneakers. “Is it really a job? I mean, could you choose to leave it?”

“I’ve got stuff I have to do here, and we’ll just leave it at that.” Boston brushed off his hands and stood. He held a hand out to her.

He pulled a little too hard helping her up, and Savvy stumbled, steadying herself on his chest. He held her just a breath too long. She knew without looking up at him that this wasn’t good.

She spoke to his feet. “I’m still married, in my head. There was no end to that, just so you know.”

Boston released her and began jogging home. She took off after him but couldn’t catch up until she began to feel the house’s evil again. When she did, he spared her a look that held regret and obvious embarrassment.

“Hey, the boss won’t care if your husband is alive or dead. He gets what he wants, just so
you
know.”

Instead of the relief of a good run, Savvy felt rage curl up inside her like a tight metal coil. But she kept it inside. She needed things not to be weird with Boston for tremendously selfish reasons: she could talk to him about Kal and Sara, and once she’d pushed through the pain, saying their names made them more real. She’d finally realized that. Without the memory rewards after attacking someone, which had gone by the wayside for now, her conversations with Boston were the next best thing.

Despite the lingering awkwardness, he waited with her by the door as usual. They’d developed a system for walking through the maze of tempting assholes. Her body’s surging response to the red auras fogged her vision, and there were times she literally couldn’t see. She could only feel her rage like a heartbeat giving her hate a life of its own. She hadn’t learned names or made any attempts at menial small talk. That would be asking too much. She just kept to herself, as if the others didn’t exist.

Savvy stutter-stepped through the French doors, and Boston put a hand on her arm to help her find her way.

Bugs stopped them both. “I just finished telling everybody else, but you two need to know: the boss is coming to town tomorrow. He wants a welcome-home party.”

Savvy could hardly hear him over the swirling blood in her head, which longed to turn her into the monster she wanted to be.

Boston didn’t even answer Bugs, he just pulled Savvy up the stairs to their wing.

It took a good hour before Savvy could speak and uncurl her fists.

Him. Here.

It was more than she could manage. She shrugged when she made eye contact with Boston. “I can’t stop myself from hurting him.” And she knew what that meant. Tobias would die.

“Well, you’re going to have to, Savvy. It’s that simple.” Boston seemed doubtful himself.

There was a knock on the door, and one of the assholes dropped off a delivery. Boston took the large box and kicked the door shut. Savvy hugged her arms as he pulled a knife from his oh-so-sexy fanny pack and carefully sliced through the tape. He proceeded to open the package as if it was for him. She was grateful he’d learned that she hated to touch anything from Sagan.

He parted the black tissue paper inside the garment box and stepped back so she could see what was inside. A ridiculous silver miniskirt and string bikini top lay next to a pair of silver high heels. Savvy gave Boston a disgusted look.