Winter's Awakening: The Metahumans Emerge (Winter's Saga #1) (15 page)

“I vote we move,” I whispered to the boys.

“Looks good to me, too,” Alik nodded.

“Okay, it’s unanimous,” Evan said. “We approach through the loading docks. Alik, pull around back and back up to the door. We’re going to need the back door open so we can load up,” he gave these instructions with an icy calm to his voice.

Once we were positioned, Alik popped the truck’s back door and jumped out. I followed motioning for Maze to stay and be quiet.

Evan stepped confidently up the three steps to the back door of the shop. There was a security panel, all right. He flipped the cover open and looked at the buttons. With a quick motion, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a Swiss Army knife and popped open its simple screwdriver. Within one minute, he had the faceplate off the panel and we were all looking at colorful wires sticking out of the wall. A quick adjustment of the knife showed him put the screwdriver away and flip open the miniature wire cutters. With a confident hand he chose two of the wires, and cut them. Then took two others, spliced them and made them connect. One final spark of a connection and the door made a buzzing noise then popped open.

He smiled triumphantly to himself and stepped inside first. After he closed the door behind us he explained that not only had he disarmed the alarm and motion sensors, but he had created a loop by which the parking lot video surveillance would continuously show an empty parking lot.

“Wow, it’s a good thing you’re on our side, Evan. That was scary, cool!” Alik didn’t pass out compliments too often so I was proud to see him show his appreciation now. Evan nodded once then pulled out the shopping list from the front pocket of his jeans.

“Okay, you know what you have to do, guys. Get to it!” Evan spoke with authority.

We each ran to get a shopping cart and to our preassigned section of the store. I was to head to the clothing department to retrieve coveralls, canvas sack, boots, socks, ball caps and a helmet.

Alik was to head to the camping/hunting section to get backpacks, ropes, first aid kits, night vision glasses and binoculars.

Now Evan, he went running to the locked safe where this store kept their ammunition, explosives, detonators, wires, and everything else he needed to make a lot of Williams’ building go boom.

We made quick work of our collections and met up at the back door to load up the truck. Evan carefully placed his volatile items in the front seat then went back around to help load the rest of the equipment.

“Hey, Alik. Why’d you go back after we were loading up? Did you forget something?” I asked my brother. That was very unlike him to disappear when there was work to be done. Even if it were just for a minute.

Mom always kept a thick stash of cash in the house. The best hiding place was in the freezer in what looked like a regular box of frozen spinach. Clever, huh? Mom’s pretty brilliant.

“She always said it was for emergencies only. Well, when Andrews was coming to get us to go find our missing mom, it felt like an emergency to me.”

We three looked at each other, smiled and nodded.

“I just left a thousand on the cash register. I’m hoping that’ll cover what we took. We still have plenty left. I was just sure mom wouldn’t want us to turn into thieves even if it was to rescue her.” Alik said all this with a shrug and a smile.

Evan and I beamed at our brother. Yeah, he did the right thing. Gotta love my good-hearted brother!

Chapter 42 Margo’s Memories

She always taught the children to be fighters. There was always a plan, even when there was no plan. Action. Move. Never give up. There was always a way. Look for options and choose one. Just don’t lie still and take it. That’s what she had taught them. And right about now, she was trying to take her own words to heart.

She was in agony. After her failed attempt to punch the life out of Williams, his thugs were given a free hand to teach her a lesson. She gave up trying to assess what was broken or bruised or ruptured. Everything hurt. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to blink. Even the air on her skin hurt.

She had never been so close to death, even when she was in the military special ops and her helicopter crashed into a mountain. Even then, she could still feel the adrenaline pulse through her veins, pumping her full of a strength she had never felt, deadening the pain so she could perform her directive.

This is what dying felt like. She realized that and with a very saddened heart was having to come to terms with it.

Her poor babies. She remembered the night she stole them away from here. She only had two arms and there were three children. She couldn’t just waltz right out the front doors with the kids in her arms.

Even if she could carry all three of them, there was no way she could slip under the radar so conspicuously. So, she devised a simple plan. She would ask the janitor for a laundry cart to help her load items from her car and bring them back into her new office so she could set up. She remembers smiling sweetly at the man whose name tag read Kevin. He happily passed a cart to her, even offering to help her, if she liked. Margo remembered politely declining his offer and promising to bring the cart back when she was done. It was late so the corridors were eerily vacant as she pushed the empty cart toward the children’s rooms. She remembered hearing the one squeaky wheel that spun stupidly as she pushed.

When she arrived at the first door, she only had to swipe her badge gently across the metallic keypad and the door clicked, unlocked. She was sure the little girl would be asleep considering the hour and how quiet her room was. But as she stepped closer to the bed, her breath caught in her throat stifling a surprised gasp. The little girl was sitting up, her dark curls framing her face and her dark eyes watching expectantly.

Margo remembered feeling a moment of panic that the child would scream and give them away before she could explain she was there to help her. But before she said a word, the little girl raised her arms to Margo in the universal baby sign of, pick me up. Without a word exchanged, Margo lifted the three-year-old with those dark-brown eyes and held her for just a moment in a gentle hug before she placed her carefully at the bottom of the laundry cart. Margo remembered adding one of the blankets from the child’s bed to the cart before placing her index finger over her lips showing the child they needed to stay silent. The baby girl nodded, as if she completely understood.

Margo quickly and quietly wheeled to the next room where the little boy would be and repeated the swiping of the badge, opening of the door and silent walk into the dark room.

Feeling the top of the bed empty, she knelt down and felt around under the bed. Sure enough, a warm little bundle moved under her searching hand. She gently scooted the baby boy out from under his bed, lifted his still sleeping body and watched as the dark-eyed girl tried to make room for the next child to be rescued. Margo remembered praying that the little boy wouldn’t wake crying and give them way. But that’s all she could do, pray. And in the end, that was more than enough.

The last room held the newborn. The cart was heavier this time as she pushed it. In the darkened “nursery,” Margo had to feel around for the metallic crib she saw earlier that day. It was exactly where she remembered it. Reaching into the crib, Margo felt the softness of the baby’s arm. He was so soft and so cold.

Oh, dear God. Please don’t let him be dead, she remembered praying as her blind hands moved further up toward the baby’s face waiting to feel any movement, breath, anything. She held very still and waited for what felt like an eternity for his chest to rise and fall. He was breathing, but not very well. Oh God, please help me save this little guy. Please.

It was as though the pain wracking her body with such precision awakened clarity to her memories. Margo remembered exactly how it felt to lift that cold little baby into her arms. Her heart was screaming for strength, for a way to save them.

The little girl with dark eyes held up her arms, this time seeming to understand that the small bundle Margo held needed special care. Margo placed one baby into the other baby’s warm and open arms. She had grabbed more blankets off the crib to drape on top of her stolen cargo.

Margo prayed with every step that no one would stop her as she pushed her filled cart closer and closer to freedom. Just as she was rounding the last corner before the exit doors, a voice called out from behind her.

She remembered that panicked moment in which she debated whether she should stop, turn around and try to talk her way out of here, or make a run for it. Something told her to turn, and there stood Kevin, the janitor, smiling flirtatiously.

“So do you need any help, after all?” he asked.

Margo had tried to disguise her tremendous relief to see it was just this unassuming fellow who had stopped her. With an attempt at a casual smile she said, “Thanks for the offer Kevin, but I got it.” A quick wave good-bye and she had kept walking, pushing her little stowaways.

In her mind’s eye she saw herself hurrying to her car still waiting for sirens to blare and a chopper to swoop down, but nothing happened. She put the children on the floor of the back seat, left the empty cart in the parking lot and drove away from The Institute hoping she would never come back.

And here she was. Lying on the floor of a dusty, empty, locked room thinking how grateful she felt.

She smiled, though it hurt tremendously to do so, thinking how blessed she had been to have spent twelve years with the most precious gifts from God. She felt honored that they called her mother. She knew she had done the best she could teaching them about life and love, faith and family.

Margo lay slowly dying from the wounds inflicted by a monster, but she was at peace. Because though the devil meant it for evil, God turned it to good.

Chapter 43 The Beginning of the End

The back of the truck was packed with their newly acquired supplies. They decided the safest and most logical thing for them to do now was to try to get a motel room. They needed a place to rest, pack and plan. But just as importantly, they needed a place to spread out as they designed and built the explosives.

It was four in the morning when they drove around looking for a place that seemed likely to accept cash and ask no questions about their ages. Alik looked the oldest, so he was going in to talk with the desk clerk.

Pulling into a modest establishment that had lights spilling from its front lobby windows, Alik jumped out of the truck and walked confidently up to the doors.

As I watched him, I tried to imagine what others saw when they looked at my brother. I had a clear view of the empty desk and smiled ruefully when it was a younger, cute blond girl who appeared behind the desk. She smiled sweetly at my brother. He was patting around his jean pockets and running his hand down the sides of his jacket as if feeling around for something.

He was pretending he couldn’t find his wallet, where his ID was held. But look at this, he found a wad of cash in his jeans. Would she mind just letting him pay cash and when he found his wallet, he’d bring it back to check in properly?

The girl glanced from side to side as if looking for her boss. Her eyes locked onto Alik’s for a moment, and she let loose with a huge grin. Alik passed her several bills and in exchange she gave him a room key. He flashed one thankful glance back at her before he walked back to the truck where Evan, Maze and I were waiting.

I shook my head in amazement. My brother, the flirt! I was still chuckling to myself when Alik returned. He whispered, “Hush. I got the room, didn’t I?” He knew he had laid it on pretty thick for the girl. But I didn’t feel too bad for him. He seemed to be enjoying his newfound ability to sway girls.

“You got the room or two nights, right Alik?” asked Evan.

“Yeah,” Alik yawned.

Room 117 was perfect for us. It was around the back of the building, so passersby wouldn’t see our bullet hole riddled truck and there would be fewer, if any, people to witness us bring our multiple bags into the room, with no sign of an adult.

Alik backed our truck up to the door of the room. Just a few steps and we’d be out of view—safely inside. We jumped out of the car and got to work.

I opened the door and ushered Maze inside, hitting the light switches as I went. Maze jumped up on the bed and lay down as if he was trying hard to stay out of the way.

Evan came in first, arms loaded down with items. Close behind him came Alik, both of his ample arms were balancing even more merchandise. The boys put everything on the floor between the beds and Evan walked out to retrieve the fragile materials that would be the juice behind our explosives. I followed him out, closing the truck’s door behind him as he used two steady hands to hold these goods.

Once the truck was unloaded, the curtains drawn and the door locked, it was time for some rest. We would be no good to mom exhausted and making stupid mistakes during her rescue.

“Five hours, guys,” I said as I set the bedside clock’s alarm. “We sleep until ten. That’ll give us plenty of time to work on explosives and nail down the game plan.”