The Face of a Rogue Page 8

  “Will do, Jim. Dion, it’s Nico. Do you copy?”

  Dion stepped behind the bar.

  Thomas caught Fred’s attention and nodded. “Changers bullshit. Just like I was talking about.”

  Dion frowned and looked at Thomas. “You can’t possibly know that.”

  “It’s exactly what I just said. You people need to correct your vision, the way you look at things. If something’s out of place, assume it’s the Changers first. If it’s not, you’re out nothing. If it is, you’re prepared. Mark my words.”

  “Nico, it’s Dion. I copy. Go ahead.”

  “Hey, Dion. Quick synopsis. Kids are acting strange. No adults present except a woman we found in an alley. She’s been beat up pretty bad. Some kids were at the scene with her, but they ran off.”

  “Thanks for that, Nico.” Dion looked up at Thomas. “First off, we haven’t put out the word in Tremayne that the Chybrid threat is contained. The adults have their families holed up in their homes. They won’t resume business until we make that announcement.”

  “Copy that, Dion.”

  “Secondly, kids will be kids, right?”

  “Negative, Dion. I’m not on board with you there. The kids aren’t just being kids. They’re downright weirded out. Something’s messed up about the way they’re acting.”

  “Copy that, Nico. I’m gonna send Winter and Lace to the hospital to speak to that woman if they’re allowed. Leave Unit Two in charge and head back here. We’ll talk then.”

  “10-4, Dion. I’m out.”

  Dion lit a cigarette and looked at Fred and Thomas. “Okay, so let’s assume what’s happening in Tremayne has something to do with the Changers. What are your thoughts on it?”

  “I don’t have any specific thoughts,” Fred said. “But I can say I agree with Thomas. This sounds very Changer-esque. Mostly because it’s not something you would expect.”

  “Then how can we confirm anything?” Ryker asked. “I mean, Punks run on adrenaline and instinct. But we can’t throw pure guessing into the mix.”

  “I still have a reliable contact inside the Changers’ organization,” Krystal volunteered.

  Thomas walked over and flopped down on the leather sofa. “If you’re thinking about Dr. Yaz, he’s off the grid. We haven’t been able to make contact since we left the Underground.”

  “I have direct contact, any time, twenty-four seven,” Krystal said. “If this activity is due to the Changers, he’ll know. And he’ll tell me.”

  Ryker smiled at Dion. “Shoulda voted to keep her, bro.”

  “I’m changing my vote,” Dion said. “I vote to keep her now.” He tipped his chin at Fred and Thomas. “Even if it means keeping these two slugs as well.” He looked back to Krystal. “Reach out to the doctor. We’ve been in the dark for so long, we can’t afford to take any chances.”

  Chapter 12

  Unlikely Allies

  Four Changers security guards made their last round of the evening on Level Three of the Underground City.

  “I’m about beat, boss,” one of the male guards said.

  “Yeah,” a female coworker agreed. “Hey, Steph. How long are we going to be doing twelve-hour shifts, anyway?”

  Steph shrugged. “Got me. Until we receive the order to resume business as usual, I guess.”

  The four stopped in the hallway at a nondescript door marked FACILITY 301 – AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Steph checked the door handle and peered inside its small window. “Hold up. Light’s on inside.”

  Steph passed her hand over the keyless identification panel as a woman in a lab coat approached the quartet.

  The woman waved her hand at the guards. “Excuse me. I’m presently working in there. No need for intervention.”

  Steph smiled at the woman. “Sure, no worries. We noticed the light is on inside. In keeping with the organization’s conservation policy, please remember to turn out the lights when they’re not needed.”

  The woman nodded. “Yes, ma’am. My apologies.”

  “Well, good night, and have a nice evening,” Steph said.

  “And to you.” The woman opened the door and stepped inside the small green room.

  When the door closed and latched, the woman peeked out the small window. She pressed her cheek against the door and watched the guards disappear around a corner in the corridor. Satisfied that the hallway was now empty, she turned and leaned back against the door. Her body vibrated momentarily before she ventured into the spacious room beyond.

  Just inside the entrance to the right, Silver lay slumped forward on top of a large pipe. A hand gently shook her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open, and she felt the blood pounding in her head. Gingerly, she touched the egg-sized bump at the back of her skull. Ow. She rubbed her neck. The hand on her shoulder was persistent.

  “All right already,” she said, looking up. She squinted at the figure standing in front of her. “Felix.” She rubbed her neck again. “How did you find me here? Did your little device not work?”

  “Be sensible, woman,” Felix said. “I tracked you until your chip was disabled. I knew exactly where you were, but I was unable to leave immediately.”

  “How long have I been here?”

  “At least eight hours. It’s evening. We must leave at once.”

  Silver stood, her wobbly legs steadied by an eighteen-inch-diameter pipe on one side and Dr. Yaz on the other.

  “Before we enter the corridor, we must change,” Felix said.

  Silver rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

  The two separated, changed their appearances and exited the pipe-filled room looking like two middle-age males. Silver glanced at Felix and smirked. “Great minds still think alike, Doctor.”

  Felix removed his lab coat and handed it to Silver. “Utility workers don’t wear pantsuits. Put this on.” He snatched the clipboard off the bulletin board as Silver picked up a nearly empty toolbox from the small desk.

  Felix checked the hallway before the two stepped out. “This way.”

  He led the way down the corridor and stopped at a small passageway on his right. A wire-mesh gate blocked the opening. Felix unlatched the gate, and Silver followed him into the passageway.

  “Where the hell are you taking me, Yaz? I thought we’d be going to your quarters.”

  Felix ignored Silver’s blather and continued walking. When they reached the end of the passage, he stopped and opened an unmarked door. He stepped into a small room and motioned Silver to follow. Looking up, Felix grabbed a thin chain and yanked. A single LED bulb illuminated the tiny space.

  Silver looked around. The little room was filled with cleaning supplies and tools, with a floor-length locker on one wall. The room reeked of various chemicals, mold and air freshener.

  Felix opened the locker and waved his hand over a warranty sticker on the back wall. The wall at the back of the locker opened, and Felix motioned to Silver to step inside. He turned around, switched off the overhead light, closed the locker door and followed Silver through the opening.

  When the portal closed behind Felix, a narrow hallway was illuminated by blue strips of light along the corners of the walls and ceiling.

  Felix turned to Silver. “Now, we’re going to my quarters.”

  Silver looked around as she touched the wall. “What is this, some kind of smooth metal?”

  “Of course,” Felix said. “This acts as a type of Faraday cage. Detection by electronic means is virtually impossible.”

  “Honestly, Yaz. Must you be so secretive about all this? With your intellect, surely you could have come up with something more high tech.”

  “Exactly why I don’t use methods you would think of. It’s what great minds would expect me to do. Greater minds think differently. Remember I said that. It may help you one day.”

  “Whatever. So I get that your quarters is under tight security. Isn’t the interior of your quarters monitored as well?”

  Felix stoppe
d walking and held up a finger. “I’m going to tell you something. Please keep in mind the only reason I tell you anything from here on out is not because I trust you. It is because time is of the essence. You, Ms. Long, are in more danger than I.”

  “Why? Aren’t you a more valuable prize if you’re captured?”

  “Yes. But I am smarter. And I have more resources at my disposal than you could ever imagine.”

  “Hmph,” Silver snorted.

  “You are riding on my coattails, my dear.”

  “Fine,” Silver said. “I agree. So, why are we so pressed for time?”

  Felix slowed the pace as the two continued down the long passageway. “I have had numerous communications from allies outside the Underground. Allies you must resolve to work with. Former enemies of yours.”

  Silver smiled nervously. “How bad can they be, Felix? I can get along with anyone, you know that.”

  Felix stopped at a blank wall at the end of the passage. A wave of his hand opened the wall, revealing a small elevator. He gestured to Silver. “After you, my dear.”

  When the elevator door closed, Silver turned to Felix. “Enemies? Who are these people I’m supposed to work with? Worst case.”

  Felix pressed a button on the elevator’s keypad and clasped his hands behind his back. “Worst case?” He smiled. “Krystal Peterson.”

  Silver leaned back against the wall as the elevator descended. She folded her arms across her chest. “Oh, no. Not her. No way.”

  When the elevator stopped, the two changed back to their previous appearance.

  Felix turned to Silver. “What are your loyalties, Ms. Long?”

  Silver remained with her arms crossed leaning against the back of the elevator. She raised her eyebrows, deliberately avoiding Felix’s gaze. “What do you mean?”

  “I think you know,” he said. “I know what the Changers are capable of. More than that, I know what their plans are. I need to know right this moment whose side you’re on.”

  Silver reached down and tapped several times on the keypad. “What’s with this door anyway? Doesn’t it open when this thing stops?”

  “Only I can open it. Now, you must answer my question.” Felix folded his arms.

  Silver sighed and dropped her hands to her sides. She looked at Felix. “Fine. I’m on your side, okay?” She glanced up at a small red light blinking above the door. “Now open up. I’m getting claustrophobic.”

  Felix closed his eyes. “You have not convinced me. If you are still loyal to the Changers, I will take you back out and release you into the Underground. You will be on your own.”

  Silver mock-laughed. “Oh, no. I’m not on my own. Not by a long shot.”

  Felix opened his eyes and held up an index finger. “You are, my dear. You obviously don’t know this. But you are.”

  Silver folded her arms again—tighter this time. “Well, you sure as hell can’t turn me loose down there. I’m a dead woman walking if you do that.”

  Felix smiled. “There is always the surface. You might make your way to Blythe before the Changers catch up to you.”

  “I’ll go to Tremayne. At least I can change, and I could blend in.”

  “What I’m hearing makes me believe you are still loyal to the Changers,” Felix said.

  A rare case of nervousness overcame Silver. “I…I’m still trying to decide.”

  Felix turned to her and placed his hands on her cheeks. “Now. Now is the time to decide.”

  Silver brushed Felix’s hands from her face. “Get your hands off me! How dare you?”

  Felix shoved his hands into his pockets. “You no longer hold rank here, Ms. Long. You see, you have no friends here in the Underground.”

  Silver thought of Steph. Her mind raced, but she could think of no one else. “You’d be surprised.”

  “No one with any authority or power,” Felix said. “I have many loyal followers, despite having been rejected by Levi and the appointment of Xander Rasmus.”

  “Xander Rasmus?”

  Felix nodded and stared at the floor. “A great mind. Dr. Rasmus is a force with which to be reckoned.”

  Silver smiled. “So he’s your replacement? Never heard of him.” Her eyes widened. “Who’s mine?”

  “Her name is Angelica DeMone. I must say, I believe she is more ruthless and conniving than you.”

  “Not a chance,” Silver said. She tapped the elevator pad again. “Hello? Are we ever getting out of here?”

  “Your answer, Long?”

  She looked into Felix’s eyes. “I don’t have any choice. You’re right, I don’t have any real decent contacts here anymore. I’m with you.” She breathed deeply once. “I’m with the Punks.”

  “Very well.” Felix tapped the keypad once again.

  Silver swayed involuntarily sideways as the tiny cubicle moved. She braced herself against one wall. “What, this thing moves laterally?”

  Felix clasped his hands in front of him. “It is my transportation cube, not merely an elevator.” He closed his eyes again. “I am able to travel anywhere in the Underground undetected.”

  Silver slid down the back wall of the cubicle and sat on the floor, knees up. “Maybe I have underestimated you.”

  Chapter 13

  Irony

  The room was cold. The floor and walls were white. A single computer station extended down from the ceiling, supported waist-high by a sturdy rod.

  Curtis stood silently and stared at the seven-foot-tall cylindrical pod in front of him. The pod was made of smooth brushed metal. He noticed a panel on one side—obviously a touch-pad-type control console—with numerous lights and buttons. The huge glass door on the front of the pod matched the curvature of the cylinder.

  Three Changer attendants stood with Curtis, one on each side and one behind him. The Changers dressed in hospital blues, sterile masks, caps and safety glasses.

  “You’ll have to remove your underwear now.” It was the female attendant at his back.

  Curtis slowly hooked his thumbs under the elastic waistband of his shorts. He hesitated momentarily, then slid his underwear to the floor and quickly brushed them to the side. He clasped his hands in front of him and gazed at his reflection in the glass door. What have you done? A momentary wave of jealousy swept over him as he wondered if Krystal had gone through the same procedure when she had become a Changer.

  A loud whoosh snapped him out of his trance. The curved door on the pod popped outward and slid to the right, revealing the inside of the cylinder. A soft blue glow illuminated the interior. The inside was made of the same smooth metal as the exterior. The floor contained thousands of tiny, evenly-spaced holes. In the center of the floor were two large, solid metal, shoe-shaped pads.

  “Step inside, sir,” the attendant said. “Stand on the foot pads.”

  Curtis stepped forward and placed one foot on the edge of the pod while he braced himself, one hand on each side of the door. His legs were shaking ever so slightly.

  “Are you scared, sir?” The attendant’s voice seemed sharp against the dead silence of the white room.

  Curtis’s voice quavered. “Just kinda cold.”

  “You are not undergoing the Change, sir. This is sterilization.”

  “Please move into the pod, sir,” a male attendant to his side urged.

  Curtis stepped into the cylinder and turned around to face the door.

  “Drop your hands to your sides and stand on the foot pads, please.”

  Curtis complied, and the door slid closed. He watched the Changers through the glass portal. The female attendant stood in front of him holding an electronic tablet. The other two moved out of his view—he assumed to manage the controls and the computer.

  The pod’s interior turned noticeably warmer as the air swirled around Curtis’s body. Static electricity filled the cylinder, and the hair on his arms stood up. His body felt lighter. What is—? What? He looked down at his feet. Hair?<
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  Thousands of strands of hair whirled around the cylinder and down to the floor. The fibers seemed to disintegrate into—or through—the tiny holes in the platform. Curtis looked at the raised hairs on his arms. As he ran his hand over his forearm, the hairs detached from their pores and swirled downward. He fought the panic welling up in his gut. He reached up to his head. Bald. My Hawk! Tears pooled in his eyes, only to be evaporated by the chamber’s atmosphere. He looked down in horror and watched the last vestige of his outward personality turn to fuzz and disappear through the holes at the bottom of the pod.

  A heavy mist descended with the night inside the Perimeter at Punk headquarters. Outside the communications Depot, the ground at the compound quickly dampened.

  Krystal allowed herself a moment of repose as she gazed at the embers floating skyward from inside a burn barrel. She had lived a lifetime in the month since the Punks had booted her from their organization. That was the night she lost the only real family she’d ever had. That was the beginning of discovering herself—and losing Curtis. Curtis. She’d be dead if not for him. He had discovered the real Krystal before she did. Miss you, Curtis. I’m sorry. I really fucked us up. The stiff evening wind plastered her duster against the back of her legs. She buttoned the front and turned up the collar.

  Ryker tossed another log into the barrel. “You look a million miles away, kid.”

  She blinked and looked up. “I’m sorry, Ryk. What?”

  “Aw, nothing.” His eyes sparkled in the firelight. “You’re starting to look like your old self. I like that.”

  “A lot’s happened, Ryk.” She looked up from the embers. “You wanted me dead that night.”

  Ryker slipped his bandanna off his head and ran his fingers through his hair. He untied the knot in the bandanna and shook out the creases. “I was stupid, Krys. We all were.”

  She wrapped her arms across her chest and hugged herself. “Curtis wasn’t.”

  Ryker looked around the compound. Sodium vapor lights cast a soft glow on the concrete walkways and benches. Punk security guards walked in pairs, dutifully patrolling the area. “Dion sent word to Tremayne that we’re lifting the red alert.”