Flashback (11 page)

IT WASN’T TOO
far to the waterfront, but the back of the truck was extremely uncomfortable. It appeared Carrington was something of a handyman outside his detective work. The truck bed was filled with tools, some loose and some packed away neatly. There were also pieces of wood, ceramic floor tiles, a medium sized bag of what looked like cement, and cans of paint and varnish, none of them particularly safely stacked.

Each time they stopped at a set of traffic lights Max could hear the radio playing through the small sliding window that was open at the back of the cab. The songs that had been hits in the mid-’90s, along with songs from earlier eras, were a little familiar to Max from some of his video games and movies. Max kept thinking about what he’d got himself into but knew he had no choice but to see it through.

Eventually, the truck slowed down and took a sharp turn to the left. The road became extremely bumpy and Max struggled to stop some of the heavier items in the truck bed from falling on him. Eventually the truck came to a stop and the engine was turned off. Cautiously, Max peered out from under the plastic tarp as much as he dared.

Twenty years in the future, the waterfront had been completely renovated, becoming a trendy shopping district. Back in the time of David Dexter, it was still a dismal, rundown industrial area, filled with rusting cranes and abandoned warehouses. This particular part of the waterfront was completely deserted. Most of the buildings looked as if they hadn’t been in use for several decades.

To the right, there was a long steel building with an arched roof, beside some single story wooden structures that appeared to be interconnected. A high chain-link fence topped with barbed wire surrounded the buildings. There was a sliding security gate built into the fence, but it was firmly closed. A white van, with
Richardson’s Heating and Refrigeration
written on the side in red lettering, was parked next to the main building.

Carrington was taking a drink from a plastic bottle and looked to be talking on a radio. His attention wasn’t on the rearview mirror, so Max clambered out of the truck bed. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do, except get somewhere safe and plan his next move. He crept along the side of the truck, intending to dart across to the nearest building, but Carrington spotted him.

“What the hell?” he demanded, as he burst out of the cab. “Where did you come from? Were you in the back of the truck?”

“I told you I could help,” replied Max.

“And I told you this isn’t a game, David,” Carrington snapped. “This could be really dangerous. This is no place for kids.”

“I’m fourteen,” Max shot back indignantly.

“Look,” Carrington continued, “you can’t be here, David, and what the hell would your father think? This is nuts, just nuts.”

Carrington shook his head in disbelief, turning away. As he did so, Max saw the security gate slide open. Two men emerged from the main building and hurried towards Carrington’s truck. One of the men carried a rifle.

“Great,” said Carrington, “what do these guys want? Okay, just stay calm and let me do all the talking.”

They both remained still a few feet from the truck as the men approached. As they drew closer, Max instantly recognized younger versions of Connor and Drake, who was holding the rifle, but not pointing it directly at them. Connor had a pistol in a holster attached to his belt.

“Who are you?” Connor demanded. “What are you doing here?”

“Just got lost,” shrugged Carrington.

“Yeah, we took a wrong turn,” Max added.

“Who are you, kid?” asked Drake.

“I’m his nephew,” lied Max.

“Got any ID?” Connor asked Carrington.

“Sure,” said Carrington.

While Drake nervously toyed with the rifle, Carrington slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, handing it to Connor.

“Check this out,” said Connor, showing Drake the private detective’s ID.

“Okay,” said Drake, “you’re both coming with us.”

The journey to the arched metal building was undertaken in silence. Connor and Drake, the latter keeping a firm grip on the rifle, remained focused on Carrington, with only the occasional glance at Max. He realized there was a fair chance that he and Carrington might not get out of this alive. Hoping that the men’s attention would remain focused on Carrington as they approached the metal building, Max readied himself to run. His plans were interrupted, however, as they arrived at the entrance, where a tall slender woman wearing a white lab coat was standing.

“So who are these guys?” said the woman.

“He says they were just lost,” Connor told her, “but this guy’s a private dick.”

He handed the woman Carrington’s wallet, open to his ID.

“And who’s the boy?” she asked.

“His nephew.”

“Does he have any ID?” said the woman, frowning as she studied Max’s face.

“I never checked him,” Connor admitted, then told Max, “Give me your wallet.”

Max reluctantly reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet. He handed it to Connor, who immediately passed it to the woman.

“Well, well, David Dexter,” the woman said icily, before giving Max back the wallet. “I thought you looked familiar. Take them inside. I’m sure Doctor Kovac will be pleased to see them.”

As she turned back into the building, Drake lowered the rifle slightly. Carrington pushed Connor over then swung a fist at Drake, who dropped his weapon.

“Run, David!”

Max ran, but Carrington was knocked to the ground. Max glanced over his shoulder and saw Connor hit the detective on the head with the butt of the rifle, before Drake kicked Carrington in the stomach.

Max kept running until he reached the nearest wooden building. There wasn’t much inside, just a few old oil drums along the walls. There was some rusting industrial equipment in the far corner, where a small door led back outside. The building also had an upper level, accessed by a ladder.

Max went over to the small door and eased it open slightly. He watched Connor and Drake take Carrington inside the steel building. Max was certain that it wouldn’t be long before they came looking for him too. He had no idea what he was going to do. He could try and get help, but had no idea how far he was from the main road. Max knew that he had no choice but to attempt to rescue Carrington.

PEERING OUT OF
the side door, Max confirmed that the steel building was relatively close. Yet before he could make a run for it, Connor and Drake emerged with two other men and headed in his direction. If Max ran across the open area, they’d spot him for sure. He’d have to wait until they were almost at the building’s main entrance then slip out the door. Max held his breath as the men came closer. When they were just about to enter the building, Max gently pushed open the side door and raced for the steel building.

Five cars were parked inside. Otherwise the building was almost completely empty, apart from some old wooden crates stacked along the far wall. There was no indication where Carrington might have been taken. Before Max could explore further, he heard a vehicle approaching. Max darted behind the crates as a car entered the building and parked. A man around the same age as Kovac, with thick gray hair and dark rimmed glasses, stepped out of the car and walked through a doorway. Max hurried over to see where the man had gone and discovered that the door led into the interconnected buildings.

The corridor ahead of him was empty. Max crept along the hallway, hoping to find where Carrington was held captive. The first room Max found had a single chair in the centre and a row of filing cabinets beside a desk near the door. The bottom drawers of the cabinets were open and empty. When Max looked inside the other drawers, there was nothing in them either. There were, however, a few file folders on the desk. Max gasped as he opened the first one.

It contained information similar to what he’d found in Carrington’s mailbox, about mysterious deaths around the world.
This was clearly when the operation had still been in the planning stages. It was all connected to something called
Project Mindstorm
. There were memos and other documents marked confidential from government departments, mentioning Jonathan Dexter, Kovac, and military officers. Before Max could read any more, he heard footsteps approaching. He quickly hid behind the filing cabinets, crouching down as he heard a familiar voice.

“Is Kane on his way?”

Peering out from his hiding place, Max saw Kovac and the man who’d arrived in the car. Both were wearing white lab coats.

“Yes, he shouldn’t be long,” replied Kovac’s colleague. “So you said we won’t be releasing the results of this?”

“No,” replied Kovac. “Dexter and the others have no idea how far we’ve progressed.”

“If they knew about this,” said the other man, “they’d probably think twice about shutting us down.”

“It’s more likely they’d be much more worried about defection,” Kovac corrected him. “Keeping Dexter and the others in the dark makes it more likely that we’ll get away with all our research data. We can then restart the project somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else?

“I’ve changed my employers before, Doctor Lawrence,” replied Kovac. “We’ve already had offers from the Russians and China, even the Middle East. We might even end up with a wealthy private backer, rather than a government. Wherever we go, the others will eventually be there too.”

“But they’re nowhere near ready yet,” said Lawrence.

“Perhaps,” Kovac replied, “but you remember what Kane was like when he first came to us? That girl has significant abilities and eventually she might be at Kane’s level. Still, I’ll admit that none of the other ones we’ve tested here has been anywhere near as impressive. Not like the ones Kane’s been in contact with telepathically. Did you know he can connect with others, anywhere in the world? Imagine them working together.”

“Are we ready to proceed, Doctor?”

A young man, with shoulder-length dirty blonde hair swept back from his face was standing in the doorway. Max shuddered as he recognized the younger version of Kane.

“Yes,” said Kovac, “bring him in.”

Kane stepped back into the corridor then returned pushing a gurney on which lay a blindfolded man, who had tape covering his mouth. Kane and Lawrence lifted the seemingly unconscious man from the gurney and tied him to the chair in the centre of the room, his hands and arms bound behind his back.

Fifteen feet in front of him, Kane stood perfectly still, staring at the man with an expression indicating intense concentration. At first, nothing happened, but then it appeared that the man in the chair was now awake and in considerable discomfort. His body seemed to be steadily consumed by tremors and his head began violently shaking from side to side. The man was obviously in excruciating pain. Blood began to trickle first from the man’s nose, then from his ears, and even from beneath his blindfold—the man’s eyes were clearly bulging and bleeding too. Then abruptly it was all over. The man’s head slumped to his chest, his shirt covered in blood.

“Very impressive, Kane,” said Kovac, clapping his hands. “Very impressive.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Kane replied.

“Take him away,” said Kovac. “Get the girl ready for the lab procedure and get me an update from Connor about that boy.”

Kovac left the room, leaving Kane and Lawrence to untie the unfortunate man, put him back on the gurney, and wheel him out of the room. Max felt sick to his stomach at what he’d witnessed. He suspected Kane possessed some sort of mental ability, but this went far beyond what Max had experienced at the police station or anything that Deanna had told him about. It looked as if Kane had killed the man, just with the power of his mind.

When he was sure it was safe, Max crept out from behind the filing cabinets. He cautiously went over to the doorway and peered out into the empty corridor. He crept along the passage until he reached another room, which resembled a hospital. Twelve beds were positioned around the perimeter, all connected by wires and cables to various forms of computer equipment or medical devices. All but two of the beds were empty.

On the nearest one lay the man Max had witnessed being subjected to Kane’s mental assault. He looked in pretty bad shape, with a number of thin wires leading from adjacent medical machinery to his left arm and other areas of his upper body. His right arm was connected to a drip and a machine was monitoring his evidently weak vital signs. On the farthest bed lay a young woman with short-cropped green hair, who looked to be asleep, or more likely sedated. Her face was turned away from him, but Max shuddered when he realized it had to be Deanna Hastings.

He was about to walk over to verify the woman’s identity when Max felt his knees buckle and he collapsed to the floor. He tried in vain to stand. He felt as if his head was going to split open from the incredible pressure and started to black out. Kane was standing over him, concentrating intensely, his pale blue eyes locked on Max’s own.