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Authors: James A. Moore

Subject Seven (26 page)

BOOK: Subject Seven
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Hunter started moving from desk to desk, seeking anything that could help them find Evelyn Hope or anyone else who supposedly worked at the Janus Mask offices.
After the third desk provided nothing, he started to lose his temper. He slammed drawers shut and cursed under his breath, his eyes rolling almost madly in his skull.
“Dude, calm down.” Cody barely had the words out of his mouth before he was recoiling from the look Hunter shot his way.
“I can't calm down!” Hunter's voice echoed through the nearly empty area. “I can't calm down! I need to find this stupid bitch and get this done! I want my family back! I want my life back!”
Kyrie opened her mouth to say something, but Hunter shook his head. “No! You don't get it! This might be new to you, but I've been stuck for the last five months! I can't get away from Joe Bronx! I can't get away from any of this and I can't deal with it anymore!” He was starting to hyperventilate, his breaths coming in short, fast gasps. His teeth were clenched and he looked almost as menacing as Joe in that moment.
“Nobody move!” The voice came from the elevators and all of them turned at the same time to look at the police officers standing there. The Boston Police Department had sent at least four officers, all of whom looked like they ate convicts for breakfast and spit out the bones when lunch-time came around.
Hunter shook his head. “Are you serious? Who the hell called the cops?” His voice cracked as he spoke and Gene couldn't decide if he was laughing or crying as he raised his hands above his head.
“Silent alarm, buddy. This floor is off-limits.” The first policeman moved closer as he spoke and reached for a pair of handcuffs fastened to the back of his belt.
Everyone tried speaking at once. Kyrie said she wanted her father. Gene started trying to argue that they were supposed to meet someone at that location. Tina used enough profanity to make a whole crew of construction workers blush.
Hunter shook his head and got a strange look on his face. His face twitched and the shape of his jaw warped slightly, growing broader. His eyes grew darker, then flickered for just a moment toward Cody, and the other boy let out a soft grunt that would have been ignored completely if Gene hadn't watched the silent exchange.
Hunter just shot a look and Cody made a noise. Gene stared harder, not resisting as the officer cuffed him. He stared hard at Cody and then understood.
No,
he thought.
Not Hunter. Joe. Joe's maybe different from the others. He just woke up Cody's Other.
Gene looked toward where Hunter had been standing and saw that he was right. Joe had taken the other boy's place.
Sure enough, Cody doubled over, his face twisted by the sudden pain of growing. Every teenager gets aches and pains, a good number of them caused by bones growing longer fast enough to cause discomfort. That means in a few months the teen might grow a whole inch or maybe two. Cody's entire skeleton grew, as it did every time the transformation took place. All of them grew when they changed, but the one who had the biggest difference in size was Cody.
His small groan became a growl and the cops who were in the process of restraining people looked his way, not understanding what was happening.
Cody's eyes were aimed at the ground and he laughed, his normally soft voice much deeper than it should have been, his face twisted into a strange smile.
“They aren't cops. Look at their shoes. These assholes aren't cops!” Cody's voice was a harsh barking laugh.
Gene looked down at the feet standing behind him. The uniform was right, but the police officer was wearing loafers. They weren't standard issue with any police officer he'd ever seen, especially since they were the wrong color.
“You shut your face, kid. You're in enough trouble already.” The man behind Gene spoke with a sharp, stern warning in his voice.
Cody grunted and laughed and fell forward, catching himself on his hands instead of falling on his face. His hands were too big. His arms were heavily muscled. His hair, always a little longish, fell in front of his eyes but wasn't long enough to hide the broad face. Cody was a thin boy. The boy standing in his place was anything but skinny.
Gene fought off that strange nausea that hit him every time he thought about the impossible changes and felt his knees grow weak.
Behind him the man cuffing him let out a squeak of surprise. “What the hell?”
“I'm in enough trouble already?” His voice was a deep rumble of thunder in comparison to Cody's usual squeak. He stood up and the man behind Gene let out a watery moan. “You ain't seen trouble yet.”
Another of the cops let out a scream, and Gene turned just in time to see Joe Bronx flip the uniformed imposter through the air. The man slammed into the floor hard enough to rattle his teeth, and Gene got a look at the stunned expression on the face. The man had the wind knocked out of his sails.
Half a second after that, the giant that had been Cody reached past him and grabbed the cop's face like a pro would grab a basketball. His fingers completely covered the man's upper face and head and Gene could see the muscles in Not-Cody's hand flex and strain even as the guard screamed.
Not-Cody lifted the man off the ground by his face. He didn't even break a sweat. His arm didn't show any strain at all as he hefted the guard—a good 185 pounds of meat and bone—into the air and pulled him closer.
“Tell me about the trouble I'm in. Go ahead, tell me!” Not-Cody looked at Gene, and the eyes that scanned him seemed to take his measure and decide he wasn't a problem. Gene was okay with that. He figured if he didn't get the monster's attention, he might be okay.
Joe moved fast, slapping aside the one who'd handcuffed Tina like he was wrestling with a toddler. The man staggered back and flopped to the ground, still breathing but very obviously unconscious. Joe wasn't smiling this time. He seemed dedicated to getting this done as quickly as he could.
The Cody monster used his free hand to pull the keys from the fake cop's belt buckle and a moment later dropped the man to the ground. A second after that, he was behind Gene, and despite his best efforts to be brave, Gene's whole body shook. The last thing he wanted or needed was for the bruiser to decide he didn't like Gene. He knew he wouldn't survive the encounter.
Instead of killing him or breaking his arms, Not-Cody patted his shoulder. “Free as a bird.”
Gene managed to get a shaky “Th-Thanks” out of his mouth despite the dusty dryness caused by panic.
Not-Cody laughed and patted his shoulder again. “
De nada, hombre.

Gene shook his hands out and felt where the cuffs had pressed for a moment as he looked around the room.
Joe had dropped the other guards and was uncuffing Tina. Impossible. The whole thing was crazy. What had been Cody looked around with a dark, twisted expression. Gene knew the expression and understood it: back when he was younger, he'd hung around with a kid named Mike Berrington. Mike had been, well, he'd been a sick freak. He liked to burn bugs with a lighter or with a magnifying glass or whatever he could find. He'd watch them burn and he'd get a look on his face that meant he was enjoying it.
Not-Cody wore that expression. Gene wasn't conscious of rubbing his arms in an effort to get warm, but that was exactly what he did. The look on Not-Cody's face chilled him that much.
Joe looked his way and grinned. The gesture was cheerful enough, but there was still that underlying sense of threat.
“You okay, Gene?” The voice was completely different from Hunter's. It wasn't just the face or body, it was everything. He heard Joe speak and that, as much as anything else, made it clear. He wasn't Hunter on steroids or Hunter under the full moon. Joe lived in the same physical space as Hunter. Only one of them could occupy that space at a single time, but he was no more Hunter than Gene was.
“She's not here.” Joe looked from one of them to the next. “Evelyn Hope decided to cut her losses and run.”
“Why? You think she's running from us?” He was looking right at her, but it took Gene a moment to realize Tina had spoken.
Joe shrugged his broad shoulders. “Don't know. She might want to run from us or she might want to put together a better team for taking us down.”
“Wait a minute.” Gene held up his hand. “You think she's the one behind all of these guys?”
“Who else?” He looked around again and frowned at Not-Cody. The other oversized boy looked at him for a second and dropped the fake cop he'd picked up. Not-Cody looked like a kid who was told he had to wait until Christmas morning to unwrap the presents he was looking at under the tree.
“Listen, Evelyn Hope has answers. She may not want to share them, but she has them, and if any of us would like to have a normal life, we need to confront her.”
Joe was talking, getting into the subject, and he didn't notice as the door behind him opened. The door led, according to the light above it, to the stairs. One figure stepped out, dressed in black and toting two police-style billy clubs.
Kyrie was watching him from the corner of her eye and took in the details. Dark black hair and dark eyes, a young face, and sneakers. He was wearing sneakers. Looking closer, she saw how young he was. Maybe their age, maybe a little older, maybe a little younger, but he was big. Hard to tell his exact age, but he wasn't an adult.
She opened her mouth and pointed, not sure what to say.
Joe looked in that direction and his eyes widened.
Not-Cody looked in the same direction and his face split into another grin. Here was something new he could play with.
The figure started for the elevators, keeping his eyes on all of them, justifiably wary.
Not-Cody charged, moving like a bulldozer on overdrive. The dark-haired figure dropped down, spinning his leg out and catching Not-Cody on the hip hard enough to stagger him.
Not-Cody growled as he stumbled into the wall.
Joe reached for the newcomer, but the boy moved faster, slamming his nightstick into Bronx's temple hard enough to drop him to his hands and knees.
Both of them were knocked flat in an instant. The difference was that Joe was back up and swinging before anyone knew what was happening. His hands reached out and grabbed the weapons in each of the stranger's hands, blocking him from using them again.
As fast as Joe was, the stranger seemed equally quick. While Joe blocked both of his hands, the boy let go of the weapons and dropped back, using the momentum of his drop to help him kick Joe in the face. His foot connected solidly with Joe's jaw and sent him backward.
Not-Cody was back up and starting to move, but Joe waved him off, not saying a word. He didn't look angry. He looked intrigued.
Joe whipped the first of the nightsticks at the stranger's face and watched his attacker roll out of the way. The wooden missile hit the ground and bounced into the wall hard enough to chip the paint. Joe moved forward, not letting go of his second prize, and swung the stick with all of his might. The stranger was crouching, ready for the maneuver, and he ducked as the baton came down. Unfortunately for him Joe was also good at feinting. Joe kicked and the shoe cracked into the side of his chest and sent him sprawling.
Joe watched his attacker roll across the ground and moved after him in a near blur. The stick slammed down on the dark shape's back and he grunted as he hit the ground.
But instead of staying down, the stranger twisted around and slid backward, regaining his feet.
Joe looked at him and scowled. His face registered how surprised he was. Most of the time when he hit someone, that someone stayed down.
Gene stared at the two of them as they faced off. There were similarities. It wasn't his imagination.
“Joe, he's one of us.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
The stranger looked at him for a second, staring hard. That second was all it took for Joe to attack again. He grabbed his enemy by the throat and at his crotch. The boy let out a gasp of pain as Joe lifted him over his head and threw him against the nearest wall.
There was no finesse to the move. Joe didn't feel the need to test any further. He heaved the stranger at the closest wall with all of his might and they watched as the dark shape crashed into plaster and drywall and broke the structure behind him.
He dropped to the ground and landed on his feet, shaking off the impact.
“Who the hell are you?” Joe's voice was a roar of challenge.
Instead of answering, the stranger turned on his heels and ran hard and fast. As he moved, he threw something small at Joe. It hit him on the brow and dropped him hard. Without even seeming to pause, he threw something else at the monster Cody had become and nailed him in the throat.
A moment later, Joe was back up and growling low in his throat. Not-Cody was behind him, still coughing and gagging from whatever had hit him. Gene saw the two metal ball bearings that had been thrown. They were the size of small apples and had hit each of them with deadly accuracy. Neither gave chase.
“We need to leave,” Joe warned, rubbing his temple. “They might bring back others.” He looked around for a moment and then went to the receptionist's desk and fished around for a few moments. He came back with a Rolodex full of business cards.
“Maybe we'll get lucky. I saw a few addresses in here, including one for Evelyn Hope.”
“What does it matter?” Kyrie was the one who asked the question that Gene wanted to ask. She spoke softly, but just loud enough for everyone to hear. “How can we have a normal life? How can any of us have normal lives? There's two of us in each body.”
BOOK: Subject Seven
7.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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