She cackles. “You won’t find your son. You might as well kill me now.” Her voice strains to be heard.
The doors of the building slam again. Multiple footfalls reverberate through the nearly empty building. A group of men dressed in black tactical uniforms enter the room. Among them, one man wears a white t-shirt with brown stains splattered down the front of his chest and green athletic shorts with an emblem on the right leg.
I narrow my eyes, but I can’t see much detail from where I am.
“Beaver, where is your cousin?”
“Sir, I’ve been all over the training grounds, and I couldn’t find him. I don’t think… I think?—”
Crack.
His head snaps to the side from an open-handed slap to the face.
“I didn’t send you into the recruit program to think,” the large man hisses, venom dripping with every word. “You had one job—to find your cousin.”
“S-s-sir, between my searching, I also helped collect data o-o-on the recruits. They even have a special ops team with magic wielders.”
The man glances over his shoulder at the woman on the floor, who tries inconspicuously to crawl toward me.
“Where is my son?” he says, in a menacingly calm tone.
“He’s dead,” a voice rasps from someone in the group of men. They part, allowing the speaker to stand in front.
Held up by two others is a man with pure white hair. His head droops forward, barely able to stay upright on its own, and his hands are cuffed in front of him.
I’ve seen that man before. But where? Movement through my periphery catches my attention. Somehow, the woman inches closer to me. She slides a flat object along the concrete floor and tucks it under the mattress. I glance at her face. I feel the urge to wrap my hands around her neck and snap it.
A deep cry full of wrath fills the room, making this pathetic woman jump. The man fists a handful of white hair, yanking the man’s head back. “Where is my son!”
“I killed him.”
“No!” The man raises a beefy hand in the air and swings it toward the white-haired man’s face. He hits him over and over until his body sags, his legs giving out beneath him. The men holding him let him drop to the floor. The large man kicks and stomps on the unconscious body.
A queasy feeling rolls up from the pit of my stomach to my throat. I want to get up and help the man. I’m not sure why. I don’t even know him. I didn’t feel this way when the same man beat the woman, who now covers both sides of her head and whimpers.
Someone rushes forward. “Sir, you need to stop! We were given orders to keep him alive.”
Face full of rage, he turns on the men. “I want all of them dead! Regroup! Take the remaining men and bring the girl to me alive. TONIGHT!”
“Sir, even if they could get past the guards, she’s deadly. She struck them down with lightning and created a snowstorm. Our men don’t stand a chance against her.”
“I may have an idea, s-s-sir.” Beaver raises his chin. “I know her weakness.” Beaver briefly tilts his head in my direction. “And she’s also close with the head guard. We could lure her out, make her come to us. I’m sure they won’t let her come alone. We can attack them when they’re on our turf. Instead of guns and weapons, you could use the tranquilizer guns to suppress their magic.”
The more he talks, I note his lisp. Well, not exactly a lisp. He’s missing his front teeth. I clench my jaw, stifling my laughter. I’m not sure why his missing teeth amuses me so much.
“If we lie low for a couple of days and let them think that they won?—”
The tall man booms with laughter, throwing his head back.
“Psychopath,” the woman mutters under her breath.
He slaps Beaver’s face a few times as if he found a new pet. “Boy, I think you just earned a place among the Resistance after all.” He slings his large arm over Beaver’s shoulder. “Have the bitch take care of this mess.” He swipes one last kick at the man with white hair. Like buddies, the two stride toward the door. The rest follow like puppies behind them. “Now tell me more about this special ops team.”
Chapter 71
A Long Overdue Gift
JESSICA
