I pulled off the road, well-aware I was already being watched. But they’d recognize me. No matter how hard I tried to be forgotten.
The setting stars on the horizon triggered a sickly nostalgia in me. How many times had I driven here and left with a debrief folder on who I’d be killing next? My heart thudded against my ribs, ready to resume its role as executioner. The touch of pink in the purpling evening sky might as well have been blood smeared across the clouds.
I approached the aged, overgrown barn doors and waited. They didn’t open immediately.
It was dusk, which meant assignment time. It would be all hands on deck while files were passed out, information was exchanged, and hitmen geared up. It could get chaotic.
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel while I waited. My presence was probably causing a heated debate amongst newer staff. Should they let my car in? Maybe somebody recognized me and pled my case. Maybe a new grunt insisted my vehicle wasn’t on the access list, even though it’d been a parting gift all those years ago. Eventually, a higher-up would be summoned to make the call, and I’d be granted entrance.
“Took you long enough,” I grumbled to myself when the doors began to part painstakingly slow. The straw and dirt floor inside lowered to form a ramp into a cold, artificially lit concrete tunnel.FuckI hated this place. Worse, I hated that it felt like I’d never left. Familiar. Almost comfortable if I could get past all the baggage.
I drove down, pulling into one of a dozen or so parking spaces as the ramp closed behind me, sealing the operation underground once again. My knuckles were turning white as I gripped the steering wheel. I was doing the right thing. This is what it would take to set Vivian up for a life of peace. It wasn’t as simple as just her field; that I could handle alone. Ida and Drifael mattered to her. They needed protection I couldn’t provide on my own.
A female Lychan strapped with at least fifty pounds of weaponry walked towards my car. I inhaled sharply through my nose and kicked the door open, stepping out to face the climax of everything I’d worked towards. It wasn’t some grandiose achievement or story of true redemption, but it was enough. And if it was for Vivian, it meant everything.
“Theo?” the female asked.
I nodded.
“Arne is in a meeting, but will see you shortly. Follow me.”
Ah, so I’d caught the attention of Arne that quickly? The founder of the cause was usually harder to get a hold of. He boasted an impressive kill count himself, refusing to stop field work to manage the bureaucracy of leading a revolution. His mission was personal.
The cement and concrete of their underground operation hadn’t changed in twelve years. My eyes panned around a corner to a short hallway. Memories flashed, still fresh.
“What the fuck were you thinking?!”
“My gods, somebody get medical! Arne fucked him up pretty bad!”
“What did he expect?!”
The taste of copper, the ache of a broken nose, the cold floor dragging under my palms as I was pulled by my ankles down the hallway…
“You can wait in here,” the Lychan said as she pushed a heavy metal door open for me.
“Thanks.”
It was something between a conference room and an interrogation cell. We usually put people in here when we wanted to make them comfortable, while the possibility remained of shit going down. The shackles on the ground by the chairs proved as much. There was a floor drain for easy clean up. Décor was limited so there were less objects to break and use as weapons. And they chose to put me in here of all places. I guess they remembered what happened to Arne’s office the last time we…talked.
I sat in a jade leather chair on one side of the bare desk and ran my finger over the wood grain. I’d once been called in as the “bad cop” in an interrogation here. It was a scientist from E.A.R.T.H. We had questions about the technology in the energy pods, and he wouldn’t talk. He paid for his silence with his hand. Then, when the light in the top corner of the room flickered red, I’d broken his neck. Just as I was supposed to. It wasn’t like we could let him leave. Right?
“Son of a bitch, itisyou!” A gruff voice greeted me before the door was fully open.
Arne was half Thornian, half Quadmos. He had four arms plated in armor-like scales, horns far longer than any Quadmos, black eyes, and perpetually sharp teeth. Most children from interspecies parents were genetically one or the other, but every once in a while genetics threw a curve ball and made some form of Hybrid. I couldn’t think of a more formidable combination of genes than this huge, sharp, and blood-thirsty male.
“It’s been a while,” I replied, knowing he was remembering the violence between us just as I had.
He sank into the opposing chair, crossing a foot lazily over his knee and stretching his arms out. “No hard feelings of course.”
I eyed the shackles on the desk between us. “Of course.”
“Oh, don’t take the room choice personally. They’re painting my office.” He huffed out a full-bellied laugh. “To what do I owe the honor? I’m told you’ve been going on a lot of adventures these days.”
Part of me wanted to keep my mouth shut. We were on the same side, but I strongly disagreed with Arne’s methods. My rage over what he had me do was already bubbling up. Our last argument rang in my ears. I was still furious that I’d been used so thoughtlessly. So cruelly.
“I’ve been documenting the undiscovered fields.”
He raised a brow. “Now that’s interesting. How many did you find?”
