Page 29 of Winter Halo


  I shut the thought off, not wanting to think about it. Not yet.

  The two men took me into the end cell on the left and dumped me facedown onto the single bunk. One adjusted my position so that I was in no danger of suffocating, then followed the other man out the door.

  As the sound of their footsteps faded, I said, Bear, spin slowly around so I can see what’s in the room.

  He obeyed. It was little more than a two-by-two-meter square that was barely big enough for the bed. There was nothing else in the room except for the camera perched squarely in one corner, aimed right at the bed. I couldn’t do anything until that was taken care of.

  I can short-circuit it, Bear suggested.

  Good idea. But start with the other cells first. We don’t want suspicions raised.

  As he broke our connection, then raced off, Cat returned. The women are in the dissection rooms. Her mental tones were solemn. They are being connected to the machines that will keep their flesh alive.

  So they’re still alive?

  At this point, yes.

  Which meant if I wanted any hope of stopping the procedure and giving them a chance, I would have to act quickly.

  Bear returned and sparks flew as the camera short-circuited. A few seconds later came the sound of running steps.

  Guards, Bear supplied helpfully. They’re checking all the rooms.

  The heavy steps came closer and then someone who smelled faintly of garlic came into the room. “This one’s out, too,” he said, voice loud. “Why the hell would all six go out like that?”

  “How the fuck would I know?” came the reply from the next room. “Do I look like a technician to you?”

  “No, you look like a dick, but I won’t hold that against you.”

  “Asshole,” was the good-natured reply. “For that, you can report back to Tech Support.”

  Garlic Man snorted. “I can’t see how it even matters. They’re all comatose, so it’s not like they can actually do anything.”

  “We’re being paid good money to watch the near dead, so quit the grumbling and go report to the tech heads.”

  Garlic Man continued to grumble as he left the room. I opened my eyes and sat up. To get into the more secure areas I was going to have to either take out the guards or shut down the power for the entire floor. The former was definitely the easier option—one that would give me at least some time before anyone suspected something was wrong. How I was going to get out once someone did was another matter entirely—and a question I couldn’t yet answer.

  One thing was certain—Sharran could never come back here. She didn’t deserve to end up on a dissection table—or worse—for agreeing to help us.

  I sucked in the power of the lights and created a sun shield, then hurried down the hall after the guards, who were still good-naturedly ribbing each other. Obviously, they, like the scientists, saw absolutely nothing wrong in any of the experiments being conducted in this place.

  It made me wonder if there was any hope for humanity as a whole, because nothing seemed to have been learned from the mistakes of the past. The déchet program had been the result of experiments such as the ones that were happening on this floor, and while I owed my existence to them, they were definitely something that should have been left in the dust of the past, right alongside the bones of all déchet.

  Bear, can you go back to the doctor’s lab and grab a knife and the sealant for me?

  He raced away again and Cat pressed closer, her energy biting at my skin. We are nearing the dissection laboratories.

  I know. The faint scent of blood rode the otherwise sterile air.

  We should help the ones who lie open, even if it makes them ghosts.

  Right now our priority has to be getting rid of Sal’s body. If we have the time afterward, then we can do something.

  We could short-circuit everything. That will stop the machines that keep them alive.

  And drain you both. We can’t help everyone, Cat. In a war, sacrifices have to made.

  We are not at war.

  Not yet. But the principles still apply. I sent her a mental hug, and wished I could do it for real. I want to help these women as much as you, but it may yet come down to a choice of saving them or getting out of here.

  And we need to get out of here to save the children. She was silent for a moment, then said, I’d feel bad about not helping them.

  So would I, Cat. So would I.

  The two men swung into a room on the left. I hurried up and snuck in behind them. Inside, there was a long desk filled with an array of light screens, a huge, rather sturdy-looking metal cabinet, and a third guard.

  Think you can take him out, Cat?

  Yes.

  The determination in her voice had a smile tugging at my lips. As the door behind us began to close, the third man turned and said, “Well? What’s the problem?”

  “Fucked if I know,” Garlic Man’s companion said. “It’s a job for the tech assholes, not me. Jim’s about to give them a call.”

  “Since when did that become my job? You’re the one getting paid the supervisory money, not me.”

  Now, Cat, I said, then stepped closer, raised a fist, and punched Garlic Man as hard as I could. As he went down, I swung and booted his companion in the balls. His breath left in a wheeze and—as he instinctively clutched himself and doubled over—I hit him again. He fell treelike across the prone form of the first guard. A grunt had me turning quickly; the third man toppled from his chair, an assault rifle hovering—butt first—a foot or so above him.

  “Good work, Cat.”

  She preened. I stepped past her and opened the unlocked cabinet. It was filled with weapons, and by all rights should have been locked. The guards had obviously suspected the worst when Bear shorted the six cameras, and had simply grabbed their guns and headed out without relocking it. Which was good news for me; if things went wrong—and they more than likely would once I started destroying things—then at least I had an arsenal to use.

  Once I released the sun shield, I patted the men down, relieving them of their weapons, then hit the door switch and partially opened it again. Bear might be able to slip through solid matter, but anything he was carrying wouldn’t.

  As I waited for him to return, I sat down at the desk and studied the various light screens. There were more guards situated inside what I presumed were the main labs, given their size and the number of people within them, but none in any of the dissection rooms—including the one that held Sal’s body. Janice Harvey wasn’t in the purification room and didn’t seem to be anywhere else on the floor. The two guards who’d escorted me up here were also missing.

  Unease stirred, but I shoved it aside. I could deal with them if and when I came across them. Right now I needed to find a way out, and then I needed to go finish what I’d started at Old Stan’s.

  I keyed in a search for floor plans, and after a second or two they popped up on the nearest screen. This level was basically broken into three squares—the inner, smallest being the elevator foyer, the second being a series of large labs, and the third being smaller labs and rooms such as the cells and the dissection laboratories that ran around the exterior walls. One main corridor ran around the entire floor, and the corridor that led from the elevators appeared to be the only way in and out.

  I frowned and made the image larger. There had to be fire escapes somewhere—it was illegal to build without them. After another couple of minutes, I found one tucked into a corner of a lab near the lobby, but I couldn’t see where it was accessed.

  I can check, Cat suggested.

  “Please.”

  She returned the rifle to the cabinet, then headed out just as Bear was coming in. He plunked a plastic bag in front of me. Inside was not only the sealer and scalpel I’d asked for, but a syringe and the Oxy45.

  Thought the latter
might be useful, he said.

  “You thought right.”

  I quickly injected the three men, then began stripping the uniform from the man closest to my size. While I was incapable of taking on a male form, I could certainly alter my features and make everything appear a bit manlier.

  With that done, I grabbed the scalpel and cut his RFID chip out of his arm. Blood pulsed over both his companions and the floor, an indication that I’d probably nicked a vein. Whether he’d bleed out or not I didn’t know, and to be honest, I didn’t really care.

  I cleaned off the chip and then, using the sealant, secured it to my palm. It probably wouldn’t last as long as the false skin Jonas had used, but it didn’t really need to. Once I’d altered both my features and my scent enough that a causal glance might mistake me as male, I changed clothes.

  Eww, Cat said, when she returned. That form is not your finest.

  I smiled. “The fire escape?”

  Locked but otherwise not blocked off.

  Locks could be shot off, but did I want to be trapped in such a small space?

  Did I have any other choice?

  Not really. Not unless I totally shut down all power to this place, and I could only do that by studying the electrical plans and finding the isolation switches. That would take time, and time was something I might not have a whole lot of right now. Not if Janice’s comment about notifying lab 2 that I was prepped and ready meant they would be coming to fetch me sooner rather than later.

  I ran my stolen RFID chip over the scanner, ordered up the main security control screen, and systematically shut down all the cameras on this floor. I couldn’t afford to have them active when I began destroying things, because I had no idea if they streamed anywhere else other than this floor. Shutting them all down might well result in alarms being raised, but the guards had made an initial report about the camera fault in the cells, so they might just think this was an extension of that.

  I pushed away from the console and walked back over to the weapons cabinet. I slung several assault rifles over my shoulder, clipped a couple of smaller guns onto the hooks at my waist, then pocketed as much ammo as I could carry. Then I hit the button to fully open the door and strode purposefully down the hall. Several white-coated men passed me, but none paid me any attention. I followed the corridor around to the other side of the building, slowing only when I approached the lab that held Sal’s body.

  I took a deep breath, steeling myself against Rhea knows what, then ran the stolen RFID chip over the scanner and entered the lab.

  He was lying on a table in the middle of the room, his body barely visible thanks to all the machines that were keeping his flesh viable. But I could see his face even though his skull lay open and his brain was exposed. The ugly mask of hatred—the very last expression he’d managed before the Sueño I’d used on him robbed him of life—was still frozen on his face.

  I ignored the stubborn remnant of remorse within me despite knowing I’d had no other choice but to kill, and moved closer. The metallic click of the pump that had replaced his heart filled the silence and sent unease shivering down my spine.

  Aside from the pump in his chest cavity, there was a dialysis machine as well as a myriad of other bits of equipment monitoring his various life signs. Although life was a misnomer in this case, because this wasn’t life, only flesh being kept alive. His spirit—his consciousness—had long departed.

  I continued on past the table and studied the rest of the lab, looking for some means of destroying his remains. Cutting the power wasn’t really enough; I had to make sure there was absolutely nothing of him left that they could use to further their macabre plans. Which meant I had two options; either I needed to find a powerful acid that would destroy every scrap of flesh, muscle, and bone, or I’d have to create a chemical reaction that would have the same sort of effect. Given that there were plenty of chemicals in most labs, surely I’d be able to find something to use.

  After a moment, I spotted a secure cabinet and walked across. Inside were half a dozen or so chemicals in heavy containers, all of them bearing warnings about toxicity and handling. I had no idea what any of them did, but several had “acid” as part of their name, so I grabbed them as well as the pair of heavy-duty gloves hanging inside the doors and walked back across.

  And felt it.

  A stirring of energy across the far side of the room.

  I stopped. Cat? Bear? Are you both okay?

  They assured me that they were and then Cat added, But there is a ghost here.

  The unease I’d felt when I first stepped into this room leapt back into focus. Given the number of women who must have been killed on this floor over the years Sal and his partners were dissecting and experimenting, there were plenty of reasons for ghosts to be here.

  Plenty of reasons not to be afraid of them.

  But this ghost was in the same room as the body of a man I’d murdered. And I really, really didn’t want it to be him.

  Can you see it? Maybe even talk to it?

  It hides its form, Cat said. I’m not sure it’s aware of our presence. It seems solely focused on what you’re doing.

  The tension within me ratcheted another notch. Keep it that way, but warn me if it moves.

  As their agreement ran through my mind, I pulled on the heavy gloves, then carefully undid the lids and lifted the first container.

  But as I started to pour its contents over Sal’s body, the ghosts screamed a warning and the container was ripped from my hands. It flew across the room, spilling liquid all over the floor before skidding across a table and smashing into several glass vials.

  Then, on the other side of Sal’s body, a figure began to form.

  It wasn’t the ghostly form of any of the women who’d died here.

  It was, as I’d feared, Sal himself.

  Chapter 14

  He looked so real it was tempting to reach out and touch him. To once again feel the heat of life in the man I’d once considered my closest—and probably only—friend.

  But while he was real, his solidity was little more than an illusion. The newly dead tended to cling to the shape they’d worn in life, but over time, that necessity generally faded. Eventually, he’d become as insubstantial as any of the ghosts who inhabited my bunker.

  His energy touched me, creating a link between us. It was an oddly gentle—almost tentative—caress, and yet there was nothing gentle or tentative about his expression or the steely, cold glitter in his eyes.

  He knew who I was. Despite the fact that I’d changed my appearance, he knew me. But then, he always had.

  How did you survive the poison I administered?

  “I was able to get an antidote before it could take full effect.”

  My Sal would have known the lie. But this one—the one who was a product of a rift and who contained the memories and the DNA of three others—seemed to remember very little about the war and our time together.

  “Was it you who stole the two children yesterday?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You could hardly call it stealing; it was more a retrieval.”

  Amusement touched his beautiful features, but there was something behind it that sent all sorts of warnings skidding through my mind. Sal had never been the type to stand around and chat. That meant he was doing so for a reason.

  It was then I remembered that the rift hadn’t only merged their DNA, but created a mind link between them all—and there was no reason to presume that link had ended on his death.

  Cat, Bear, you want to go watch the elevators and the stairwell? I’ve a bad feeling he might have called reinforcements.

  As they raced off, Sal said, So why come back here? Why risk your life like that?

  My smile held very little in the way of humor. “Why do you think I’m here?”

  To erase my flesh so that it cannot be us
ed.

  “Glad to see that death hasn’t affected your intelligence.”

  An odd sound caught my attention and I looked past him. Whatever had been in the vials the container had smashed through was causing a reaction—one that had white-yellow smoke curling toward the ceiling.

  Was it strong enough to cause an explosion? There were certainly plenty of substances in laboratories that could, but—as far as I was aware—it was generally the noxious vapors generated when two incompatible substances were mixed that were the main problem. Some of those gases were flammable, but I had no idea whether there had to be an ignition source for that to happen. There were no open flames in this laboratory, nothing that I could use to start a fire with.

  Except, maybe, the machines that were keeping Sal’s body alive.

  If the gases were strong enough—flammable enough—then maybe all I needed was a spark. Even an exposed wire might be enough.

  I flexed my fingers and returned my gaze to Sal. New ghosts generally weren’t in full control of their abilities, nor were they overly strong. He might have wrenched the container from my hand, but that, combined with his insistence on appearing solid, would weaken him.

  If I was fast enough, I might just be able to do what I’d come here to do.

  “You always were a little idealistic,” he said. “It was your downfall in the past, and I’m afraid it will be your downfall now.”

  “They’ve got to catch me first, Sal.”

  “It would be one against hundreds, and you are a lure, not a fighter.” The smile that tugged his lips didn’t erase the cold calculation from his eyes.

  My muscles were wound so tight my body was practically humming. I placed my hands on the table and leaned forward, as if I were trying to get closer to him. “I will die before I let those men or your partners take me alive.”