Of the Knowledge of Good and Evil (10 page)

His resolve strengthened.
Well, tough.
That feeling hadn’t deterred her from her crimes, and it wouldn’t deter Jericho from dragging her right back to the scene.

Relief that he was finally back on track with his orders crowded through him, pushing the confusion he had been feeling over the last few minutes into the back of his mind. “We leave in ten,” he said brusquely to Dahlia, waiting for her nod of acknowledgement before heading into his room.

He closed the door quickly and dialed Eli’s number for the second time that day, glad that this time he would actually have something to report. He studiously ignored the fact that he’d had something to report the first time as the phone rang in his ear.

Eli picked up immediately. “That was fast,” his friend said, his tone obviously pleased.

Jericho relayed the information he’d gotten from Dahlia and let Eli know they were headed over to the facility right away.

“God,” Eli said. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. That man’s evil is
still
haunting me.” Eli’s shuddering breath echoed through the phone. “We need it — whatever it is — here at the base so we can secure it and figure out what exactly makes it tick.
And
to see if that crazy son of a bitch was right about what it does.”

Jericho agreed. They finalized the plans — Eli assured Jericho the armed guard at the Needles Facility would be expecting them — and then Jericho remembered he had more intel to share.

“I have a new theory on how the Knowledge works,” Jericho said hesitantly.

Eli got really quiet. Finally, “A new theory, huh?”

“Eli,” Jericho began, then paused, not quite believing what he was about to say himself. “Last night, the Knowledge told me Dahlia was …
good
.”

Silence. “But, she’s not,” Eli said.

“Now hear me out,” Jericho said quickly. “Dahlia said something … it got me thinking. What if the Knowledge wasn’t based on what a person
was
, but what they were currently doing? What their intentions were?”

Eli sighed heavily into the phone, and Jericho knew he’d lost him.

“Just think about it,” Jericho said before Eli could shoot the theory down. “At the very least, it’s something to test once I haul her back to base.”

Eli’s sigh this time was one of relief, and Jericho realized that the doubt that he would stick to orders was lurking in his friend’s thoughts. That knowledge stung.

They ended their conversation, and Jericho walked out into the living room to find Dahlia waiting for him. “Let’s go,” he said shortly. “Give me the keys. I’ll drive; you navigate.”

Dahlia looked at him for several seconds, and he could tell in an instant that she’d shaken the embarrassment and uncertainty of earlier when she snapped, “Drive what, dip shit?”

Jericho frowned.

“We don’t have a car,” Dahlia said. “We use our money to eat.”

Jericho’s eyes roamed around the spartan living room, taking in the decay of the furnishings, the lack of decoration. Shame swarmed over him followed quickly by concern.

“You don’t have a car?” he repeated woodenly. “But what if there’s an emergency?”

Pure rage flashed across Dahlia’s face, and Jericho realized he’d just insulted her ability to care for her family. She opened her mouth — probably to rip him a new one — but Jericho interrupted her. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “Look, it doesn’t matter. Quick fix.”

Then he stormed out of the house with purpose, Dahlia close on his heels.

• • •

An hour later they were sitting in the office of the local Ford dealership as Jericho paid — with a
personal check
— for a brand new Super Duty truck totaling close to fifty grand. The man hadn’t even batted an eyelash at the quoted price, had done an abysmal job of negotiating (“That seems fair”), and had pulled out a pen.

The amount of money he’d spent in a heartbeat made Dahlia ill. Just who in the hell was this guy? Even the dealer seemed dazed.

All throughout their dealings, Jericho kept brushing up against her — she could swear it was purposeful — and flashing his teeth at her in a mix between a grin and a grimace. It was slowly driving her crazy. Each contact was much too brief, and then she would get upset with herself for missing his touch. Her nerves were strung to their breaking point.

The final paperwork was done in a flash. Nothing got people to move quickly like someone throwing an obscene amount of money around.

Before she knew it, she was sitting in the passenger side of the truck and they were trundling through the desert right at the speed limit.

“You’re quiet,” he said in a grumbly, grouchy voice. They hadn’t spoken to each other since leaving the house, and now Jericho was breaking the silence.

Dahlia had so much on her mind, but she didn’t know a polite way of asking, “Why the fuck do you have that kind of money?”

When Jericho snapped his head back, she realized she’d said the words out loud. She sighed. Well, at least it saved her from having to find the polite way to ask the question. Manners had never been her thing.

“Oh, um — ” Jericho stuttered. “Did that make you uncomfortable?” He was looking at her intently, his eyes a hybrid mixture of resentment and concern.

The man was actually worried that he’d made Dahlia uncomfortable by spending a lot of money.

She laughed unkindly. “Yeah, you could say that.” Considering the only people she knew with that kind of money broke the law. A lot.

“That’s not what I intended. I’m sorry. I just wanted the safest possible car for you and Gabriel, and having the truck will make life that much easier.”

Dahlia couldn’t believe her ears. “I’m sorry — for
me and Gabriel
?” she could hear her voice was loud as it rang throughout the cab.

Jericho frowned and … blushed? “Well, yeah. You guys needed a car.”

Dahlia looked out the car windshield and tried to breathe slowly and steadily. It didn’t work. “No. Stop the car. Turn around. We’re taking it back.” She waited for him to immediately follow her direction. After a full minute when the truck had not slowed down at all, she finally forced herself to face him again.

When he saw she was looking at him, he said simply, “No.”

“
No
? You think this is a negotiation? I don’t want or need your help, and I do not accept
cars
from people who drag me away from my son. So turn the fucking car around or so help me I will — punch your … leg.”

Well, that had sounded sufficiently less bad-ass than she’d planned.

However, it appeared to have worked because he pulled the truck over to the shoulder. He didn’t even look at her. That muscle in his jaw was throbbing again. “Dahlia,” he began, “you’re not going to win this argument, okay? I know you’re mad and upset at how this is going to end up, but this is the least I can do. It’s not a handout — it’s reparation. And if you need to punch my leg all the way to and from the facility, well, I think I can handle that.”

Then he nodded his head as though he was just now agreeing with what he’d said, turned to the road again, and pulled them back onto the interstate.

Oh, he was in so much trouble. Buying a truck in no way made up for dragging her away from Gabriel. But she was more upset that she’d lost an argument. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d lost an argument. And who the hell wins an argument by literally saying to the opponent
you’re not going to win this argument
? That seemed … underhanded.

She fumed silently as they drove across the desert, plotting ways to make him eat his damn truck.

They arrived at the facility far too quickly for her tastes. She’d been so distracted by her thoughts that she hadn’t had time to mentally prepare for being back here. Every muscle in her body clenched at the sight of the building.

She did not want to be here. Had promised herself that she would never have to come back. And here she was.

It was all worth it to save Gabriel.

The two posted military guards allowed them to pass through the high-security checkpoint, and then much too soon, they were walking toward one of the most evil places Dahlia had ever encountered.

Dahlia had instinctively moved closer to Jericho as he walked through the doors of the run-down old building. She mentally chastised herself and forced herself to maintain a normal amount of distance. Jericho noticed her movement and glanced at her curiously while he walked leisurely through the hall, gazing into rooms, and moving on quickly.

Dahlia thought she might vomit. They were getting close.

They made it through the entire civilian portion of the building before Jericho turned to her and asked, “Where to?”

This was the part where she lost Jericho forever. Pain coursed through her before she drew herself up short.
Lost him forever?
She didn’t want him. For any amount of time. Another pang of pain followed that thought.

She shook herself. She had to get this over with and get out of here. The walls felt like they were closing in, their evil a tangible thing. Dahlia braced herself and turned to walk to the supply closet. “Follow me,” she said, not looking behind her to make sure he did.

She walked into the dark room. All of the medical supplies had fallen from the shelves to lie in a pile on the floor. And against the far wall, the shelving hung haphazardly from the corner of the room revealing a staircase that descended into the dark.

The light switch didn’t work when she tried it. Jericho looked at her askance and silently pulled the flashlight from his belt, clicking it on and pointing it down the stairs.

Dahlia did the same.
Here goes nothing.
She followed him into the abyss.

The safety glass that separated the lab from the staircase threw the beams of their flashlights back at them. They quickly moved through the open door and entered the main lab. Their twin beams arced over the ground, hitting what looked to be props from a horror movie. The ground and walls were littered with bone saws, a toppled stretcher with leather restraints, x-ray films, surgical implements, and the overwhelming essence of pain and fear.

Jericho cursed long and low. And then the moment she’d been dreading arrived: through the dim, yellow light of the flashlights, Dahlia watched his eyes make their way slowly through the refuse on the ground to find her, and he looked at her with horror.

“What happened here?” he asked hoarsely.

Dahlia closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she was surprised to find that Jericho’s shadowy form was blurry. “Terrible things,” she whispered.

He stepped toward her, his boots crunching on the glass, until he stood right before her. His eyes were glittery and bright. “Terrible things for Eli or for you?”

The question caught her completely off guard. She reeled back in shock, and something inside of her fought back against his unexpected kindness. “
For me
?” she asked hysterically. “I
am
this, Jericho. I helped Major Taylor do this to Eli!
I’m
the bad guy, not the victim.”

His eyes searched hers for several minutes, and his arm rose leadenly toward her, his fingers brushed her cheek, and just as the Knowledge whispered
good
to her, Jericho’s face flashed relief. And Dahlia realized why he had been brushing against her so much in the last few hours. He was trying to identify her. The only thing that surprised her in this was that he was obviously pleased with his findings — and that could only mean that the Knowledge had been telling Jericho that she was good.

She frowned. But she wasn’t. No one knew that better than her.

Jericho’s finger brushed past her cheek and ear and into her hair. She couldn’t resist leaning into his hand and she tried to anchor herself against her roiling emotions. What the hell was going on?

“It’s over now, Dahlia,” he whispered to her.

She jerked her head away before the Impulse made her do something stupid. What had happened in this room would never be over. Not for her. She focused on a point over Jericho’s shoulder when his eyes grew to be too much for her. “It’s buried in the wall,” she said roughly.

Jericho sighed, a sad sound, and dropped his hand.

• • •

Oh, this woman was tying him into knots. Even now, watching the self-loathing cross her face every few minutes, Jericho was caught between passionate hate for her and passionate … passion. The small taste of her he’d gotten in the kitchen had deeply affected him. He didn’t know up from down. And damned if he hated seeing her in this lab. His instinct fought with him, making him long to protect her from this horrible place.

He cast his eyes around the walls, seeing no indication of what she’d just said. “In the wall?” he repeated.

She nodded and then walked over to the wall. “Hidden right in here,” she said as she laid her hand against the rough cement wall.

The wall beneath her hand suddenly began to flicker with light. An unease settled into Jericho’s stomach, and he sprinted over to her and snatched her hand from the wall.

The flickering continued. They both stared at the wall.

“It’s never done …
that
… before,” she whispered uneasily.

Their eyes met and held for a few seconds. “Stand back,” Jericho whispered. She moved back several feet and shined her flashlight on the wall. Jericho located an axe — the use of an axe in Eli’s imprisonment caused momentary unease — and he approached the wall with purpose.

Jericho heaved the axe over his shoulder and put all of his strength into the first swing. The wall completely crumbled under the axe. Jericho stumbled back from the exertion he hadn’t needed. “Fast-drying cement,” he said to himself.

A gaping hole hovered in the wall about chest-height. The flickering they’d seen against the back of the cement was now full color and filling the lab with light.

Dahlia edged closer to the wall and tried to look into the hole, but Jericho snatched her back.

She glared at him, and Jericho half-smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Let me look first, okay?”

Dahlia rolled her eyes, but she nodded and let him lean in to look.