H.A.L.F.: The Makers (44 page)

Anna found the keys and unlocked the back door of the van. Jack put Thomas down as gently as he could. His legs and back were relieved to have the weight off them.

Thomas’ face was as pale as printer paper. The dyed-black hair created a sharp contrast with his snow-white skin. He looked dead.

Jack put his fingers to Thomas’ neck. There was a weak pulse.

“Alecto, get into the back and pull him up into the van. Gently.”

She did as he asked without hesitation or argument.

“And stay in the back so you’re not seen,” Jack added. “At least until we can find some clothes and a way to cover your head.” An image of Alecto covered in a burka came to mind, but he quickly disregarded it. A head-to-toe covering might draw as much attention as her hugantic head and eyes.
We’ll deal with a disguise for her later.

As Jack closed the van’s back doors, the curious couple approached them.

“Do you need help?” the man asked.

“No. We’re fine,” Jack said.

“He was asking
her
,” the woman said.

Anna had been standing behind Jack, her back to the couple. She turned and faced them. The woman visibly recoiled from Anna and the man grimaced.

Anna mustered a semi-cheerful voice. “I don’t need help. Thank you. He’s taking me to the hospital.” She didn’t wait for them to press further. Anna slid herself into the front passenger seat, locked the door and buckled in.

Jack didn’t bother buckling. He slammed the door closed, turned the key and jammed the gearshift into reverse. The couple still stood by the space the van had been in and stared at the back end as they drove away.

Jack checked his side mirror. The man was staring intently at the van. “I think he’s memorizing the license plate number.”

“I’m sure he is,” Anna said. Her voice was low and tired.

Jack wound them up through the underground parking and eased into midday traffic. “I’m taking him to a hospital.”

“No,” Anna said. She unbuckled and teetered on unsteady legs as she slid past Jack to the back of the van. She knelt by Thomas and took his limp hand in hers.

“This isn’t up for debate, Anna. If we don’t get Thomas to a hospital, he’ll die.”

“I know.” Anna let out a long, slow sigh. “Just drive away from here.”

Jack knew how Anna felt about Thomas. There was no possibility that she actually wanted him to die. He knew they should lie low, but blending into the woodwork would have to wait until after they got Thomas out of the woods. “Dammit, Anna, we can’t just let him die. I’m not going to have that on my conscience too.”

Anna shook her head. “No, Jack. I beg you not to. You’ve got to understand this by now. If we go to a hospital or the police, he’ll die and we’ll die too. And Alecto will be back in Croft’s hands before sundown. Don’t you see?”

Jack looked at her in his rearview mirror. Silent tears ran down her face in a steady stream.

Jack couldn’t agree with Anna. The Crofts were killers. That much was clear. And yeah, they surrounded themselves with hired guns. Lizzy Croft was little more than a Mafia princess. But thugs and guns were a far cry from the kind of control and reach that Anna and Thomas ascribed to them. Jack still questioned where paranoia ended and truth began.

He kept driving. He didn’t know how to get to a hospital. He didn’t even know how to get off the island.

“I can help,” Alecto said. She knelt beside Thomas, one hand on his chest.

Tex had healed Jack’s first gunshot wound, one much worse than the graze his shoulder took today. And he’d watched Alecto lay hands on Erika and heal wounds that she’d inflicted. But neither of those injuries were life threatening.

“Do you have the strength?” Jack asked.

Alecto didn’t answer. She closed her eyes and put her other hand on Thomas too. She moved her hands slowly around his midsection and chest. She opened her eyes and looked toward Jack. “I can.”

“Then do it,” Jack said.

Alecto was still and perfectly quiet. Anna was quiet as well.

Jack drove though he didn’t know where to go. He had no map or GPS. He still thought that a hospital was in order, but he didn’t know how to get to one. All he could do was try to put as much distance between them and the Croft penthouse as he could.

Jack saw a sign for New Jersey and figured that was as good a place as any to find a hospital, so he took the exit. They entered the Lincoln Tunnel and Jack had to fight a panicky feeling at being underground once again. The overhead lights flashed and flickered as they sped under them. It seemed to Jack like they’d never get out of that tunnel and back into daylight.

Thomas coughed as they exited the tunnel. The unexpected sound broke the silence in the van and startled Jack.

Alecto pushed herself back from Thomas, her eyes closed and her head slumped slightly toward her chest. Thomas sat up, his long fingers lightly touching Anna’s swollen face. His eyes filled with tears.

“My butterfly,” he whispered. “I will kill Lizzy for doing this to you.” His voice seethed.

Anna pulled his hand from her face and put it in hers. “I thought I’d lost you.” She wrapped her arms around him.

At first Thomas sat and simply accepted her embrace. But after a few seconds, he wrapped his lanky arms awkwardly around Anna. “Me too.”

Many questions zoomed through Jack’s mind. Questions about the Makers and Robert Sturgis’ involvement in the organization. And he wanted to ask, ‘Hey, what’s up with your mom?’ But he kept his questions to himself for the time being. They had long days ahead of them still. Plenty of time to seek answers.

Anna released Thomas. “Thank you, Alecto. By the way, we have not been formally introduced. My name is Anna Sturgis. And this is my twin brother, Thomas.” Anna reached her hand out to Alecto.

Alecto did not take Anna’s hand. It was hard to say if she was snubbing Anna or simply unaware of the custom of shaking hands. “I have a brother too,” she said.

“You do?” Anna asked.

“Yes. We are enemies. But he is gone now. You and Thomas are not enemies?”

Anna tried to smile but winced. “No. We’re not enemies.”

“I did not know that siblings could be friends.”

Thomas smiled. “Sometimes best friends.”

Anna nodded. “You saved his life. Perhaps my aunt Lilly created you to heal rather than kill.”

Alecto cocked her head to the side. Her eyes remained as blank of emotions as ever.

Jack had remained quiet, but there was one more thing they needed of Alecto. “If you have the strength, you need to help Anna too.”

“I’m fine,” Anna said. “Save your energy.”

“You’re hardly fine,” Thomas said.

“Only bruises. They’ll heal in time,” Anna said.

Anna couldn’t see her own injuries. Her face was so swollen, it might have become numb.
Or maybe Anna’s good at ignoring pain.

“Anna, it’s more than bruises,” Jack said. “If she doesn’t do something for your eye – well, you may lose it.”

Anna slowly reached her hand up to her face. Her fingers trembled as she lightly touched her left eye. Her hand drew away quickly and was covered in blood.

Alecto didn’t wait for more discussion or to be asked twice. She moved herself closer to Anna and placed her fingers on Anna’s face. Her fingertips spread from her brow bone to her high cheekbones.

Anna gasped in pain. But Alecto didn’t withdraw her fingers. She kept them pressed firmly to Anna’s face.

“Try to remain calm.”

Thomas took Anna’s hand in his and watched as Alecto used her telekinesis to slowly heal Anna’s wounds.

“It tingles,” Anna said.

Every few seconds, Jack stole a glance in his rearview mirror. With each fleeting look Jack took, Anna’s face was less swollen. The color faded from deep purple to red and finally to Anna’s normal pale pink.

After many minutes of intense healing work, Alecto collapsed away from Anna. “I have done all that I can.” She grabbed a jacket off the floor of the van and wrapped herself in it. “I must rest. Please do not disturb me.” She lay down and curled herself into a tight ball.

Anna held her arms out and inspected them. The bruises and swelling were gone. The rope marks around her wrists a thing of the past.

Anna pushed herself up and Thomas grabbed her hand. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“I want to look at my face in a mirror.”

He pulled at her. “No. Stay here. You can look –”

Anna pulled her hand away. “No, Thomas, I need to see now.” She angled herself through the seats and plopped into the front passenger seat. Anna flipped down the visor and stared into the mirror.

Jack couldn’t see her face full on, but he didn’t have to. The gash Lizzy had sliced into Anna’s face was across her left eye. All Jack had to do was turn his head to the right to see that, though it no longer bled, there was still a deep, angry gash over Anna’s eye.

Her hand trembled as she lightly touched the scar. She didn’t cry and said only, “This will take a while to get used to.” She turned to Jack and wore a sardonic smile. “What do you think?”

Jack stole peeks at Anna’s face while trying to keep to his lane in the heavy traffic on its way to New Jersey. The gash itself was raw and red. Over time he figured it would age to a pale sheen like most scars. It marred her flawless beauty, but even a six-inch-long scar on her face couldn’t make Anna Sturgis ugly.

But what the knife had done to her eye was another matter. Jack didn’t doubt that Alecto had done all that she could to heal the eye, but the brilliant blue iris was gone, replaced with a milky white color that clouded the entire eye.

Jack didn’t know how to answer Anna’s question. Anything he said would likely be of no help to her. “Can you see out of it?”

Anna covered her right eye with her hand. “A little. Everything’s cloudy.”

“I wonder if it’s permanent?” Jack asked.

Anna shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t know. But right now that’s probably the least of our worries. Where are you taking us?”

“Thomas suspected we wouldn’t be able to go back to his apartment, so we brought all the essentials with us. And after how it went down, I’m thinking we should get as far away from NYC as possible. California’s about as far from NYC as we can go without getting on a boat or plane, so I’m thinking California it is.”

“You read my mind, Jack Wilson,” Anna said.

With Anna’s help, Jack found his way to I-70 west, and after a couple of hours on the road, he finally relaxed a bit. He was glad to see skyscrapers in his rearview mirror. With each passing mile, he shoved the vision of dead men – men he’d killed – further and further down. He began building a thick, sturdy wall around those memories. His journey was not over. The worst was likely yet to come. He’d need to be strong if he was to survive it, if he was going to do a better job of guarding Anna than he had of protecting Erika.

And as she slept in the seat beside him, he was surprised to realize that he was compelled to do just that.

Sturgis had spent six weeks behind bars at the Miramar military prison. It required her to taste the life she had forced on those who opposed her and on those who simply knew too much. The irony did not escape her.

She rose when the fluorescent artificial daylight and the clang of metal doors to their cages signaled wake-up time. She was compelled to sleep when her lamp was extinguished, forcing her to end her writing. The food was horrid and the work mundane. She had a PhD in genetic engineering from MIT and a master’s degree in biochemistry from Stanford, yet she had to spend her days in the prison laundry, washing and folding clothes. Before she was taken by Croft’s men, she had never done her own laundry a day in her life, always having had the means to hire others to perform such pedestrian tasks so she could focus on what she considered to be more important work.

The other prisoners talked behind her back and sneered at her. There were no friendly smiles or commiseration. The guards had made sure that all the other prisoners – former soldiers one and all – knew that she had been convicted of knowingly endangering those in her command. That made her the lowest of the low and worthy of no show of respect by other inmates.

She’d been in prison over six weeks and had received no phone calls. Even if she had been allowed visitors, she doubted anyone would come see her. She had no friends. She’d never had time for a social life. Her work was her life.

Her brother, Robert, knew what had happened to her. But he’d keep it from his wife and children like he kept everything about the Makers part of his life from them. And he couldn’t contact her or come see her. To do so would put his life at risk. She knew how it worked. Croft had practically branded her with the mark of a pariah. She was persona non grata, and anyone seen as showing her a kindness would be held to a high level of suspicion.

It came as a complete surprise when two guards came to her door after dinner and said her attorney was there to see her. It was doubly shocking since she hadn’t been given the opportunity to hire a lawyer.

They put her in handcuffs, which she thought was unnecessary. But she did not protest. She didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the meeting. She didn’t know who she was seeing, but it was the first opportunity she’d had to talk to anyone.

The guards escorted her through the prison and to a wing she’d never seen before. A guard swiped a keycard, and double doors swung open to a carpeted hall with offices on either side. Skylights flooded the corridor with natural light.

She wished she had something to wear other than the dreadful orange top and matching bottoms. The color orange made her look green. Her grey roots were showing and her skin was dry. If her mother had been there to see her, she would have gasped at how horrid she looked.
“If a woman wants power, she has to look like a model and act like she has balls made of iron,”
her mother would say. Sturgis had done what her mother advised. Her reward was a prison cell.

A guard opened a door with a window in it and gestured for her to enter. It was a typical meeting room with a table and chairs, white walls and blue office carpet. There were no visible cameras, no phone and no intercom. That didn’t mean the room wasn’t bugged. She had to assume that it was.