Until It's You (19 page)

His message came at the same time as she arrived at the train station. She got on and sat down, then looked at the address. It was going to take a while for her to get up to the house, but she knew the place. It was a place Kevin had used before, but it had been a while.

When she got there, she wasn’t sure what she would find. She hoped Landon—and his mind—would still be in one piece.

Slowly, clawing each step from a reserve of energy he hadn’t been sure he had, Landon made it to the light in the distance. It had been some amount of time since he had talked to Kristina. He did not know what that amount was. There was the present, and then there were things before the present, and he could not delineate more than that.

He needed to get away. His brain had been seeped into, poisoned, and his thoughts as well. Intellectually, he knew this, but the half of his brain that wasn’t the intellect felt like it was on fire, only if fire were a black sludge. Time had slowed to half or less of its normal speed.

But he made it to the stairs. Looked up. The light was brighter up there. He climbed. Hand on the railing, legs staggered but gaining strength because he was going to beat this. Step and step.

Something loomed above him. A towering shadow. The shadow was joined by another shadow, and it
pointed
at him. A blast of air hit him in the face and he turned away.

The lights turned on and reality snapped back into its usual space. He blinked. What had happened?

With each deep breath in, the extra spice Kevin’s aeros had thrust upon his world faded a little more. Sharpness returned.

He looked up the stairs at where the shadow had been and found Kevin.

“Good morning," he said nastily. "You look like you’ve had a day.”

Landon grit his teeth. "What the fuck?" he gasped. His lungs were still seized tight.

Kevin laughed. "Sucks, doesn't it?"

Landon's lungs began to loosen up, but the muscles of his chest still felt like they were wrapped tight around his organs like a fist. “There had better be a good reason for this, Andersen.”

“Or what? You’re going to fuck my sister? Because that ship’s sailed. Am I wrong?”

“What the fuck is the matter with you?”

“With me? What the fuck are
you
doing, Tatum?”

A gasping breath. “It’s none of your business."

Kevin's eyes bugged out of his head. "It is. Stay the fuck away from my sister."

"What the hell does that have to do with anything? It's not your business. At all."

Kevin scowled, the muscles in his face contracting seemingly on their own with rage.

Landon shook his head. This was going nowhere.

"Is the bastard even down there?" he asked, trying to move things on.

“He is,” Kevin said. Somehow, that seemed to relax him a bit. He straightened up to his full height. “And believe me, chump, Kristina’s well-being is my business and has been my business for a long time. I’ve saved her from some bad, bad shit and I’m going to keep doing that until I’m dead.”

Landon straightened up himself. “Well I’m not bad shit.”

Kevin shook his head. “I disagree.”

Landon pressed his lips together hard, fighting the lingering fog in his mind. “Then fuck you."

The corners of Kevin's lips quivered. Landon waited, his pulse pounding from his chest to his fists. If this came down to a fight then it did. Kevin's bully shit had gone on long enough.

An eternity seemed to pass. Landon continued to wait.

Finally, Kevin shook his head. “This isn't fucking over,” he said. He brought his comm out of his pocket and held it up. “But I’ll turn the aeros down long enough for you to talk to him. Come to me first thing you hear that isn't some version of telling you to fuck yourself.”

"No bullshit?" Landon asked.

Kevin shook his head and turned wordlessly back up the stairs. Landon watched him go until he disappeared around the corner, then turned back toward the hall.

Decision time. Did he trust that Kevin had actually turned the aeros off? His head did seem almost back to normal, now. And, whatever else happened, it was the logical thing.

He flexed his still clenched fists, let his hands go limp. He'd go. If Kevin wanted to fuck with him again, this time at least he'd be ready.

He checked his comm. The call with Kristina had been fifteen minutes ago. It felt like an eternity.

Fighting the urge to take a deep breath, he walked down the hallway again, wary for the first sign of pharms poisoning him again. But the sound of ventilation fans—a sound that had been absent before—gave him confidence that Kevin was holding up his end of the bargain.

At the last room on the right, he found Roy. The other man was tied to a chair with his arms behind his back, and he looked half asleep but mostly unhurt.

There was a brushed metal folding chair a few feet from where Roy was seated. The room was lit by an uncovered, dim bulb overhead. The bulb flickered in a way that Landon guessed Kevin had set up on purpose.

Roy looked up at Landon dimly as he took a seat in the folding chair. His eyes were bloodshot and heavy-lidded, but they followed Landon enough for Landon to know he was conscious.

“Quite a setup you have here,” Landon said. “I can see Kevin’s been treating you well.”

“What the fuck do you want?" Roy shot. The force in his voice was surprising. "I don’t know anything.”

Landon's eyes opened wide. “You don’t know anything, huh? You found the apartment.”

“I followed her for that.”

“Kristina?”

“Yeah." His eyes bugged out. "I already told you assholes about that. Followed her and the scientist from Washington Square.”

“Why?”

“Orders. I told you that too. I don't know anything else exactly for situations like this. You guys think people are stupid, but people aren't stupid.”

Landon nodded, his mind working overdrive as he searched for a weakness in Roy's body language. The man was exhausted but holding firm. “I did hear you the first time," he said lightly. "Who were you supposed to call when you were done?”

“What?”

That was something. “Said you’d never seen the boss," Landon said, picking up the pace. "But who do you call? To tell them you have followed your orders?”

Roy's eyes buzzed around the room. His voice was strong, but his mind wasn't quite with it. “Listen, why the hell should I talk to you? If you’re going to turn me over the cops then you won’t hurt me too much. If you aren’t going to turn me over, then I don’t see a way I’m not dead.”

Landon watched, holding very still.

Roy shrugged and pressed his lips together, eyes open wide. “I ain’t seeing an awful lot of incentive. Neither you nor the soldier have it in him to torture me. Not unhinged enough. I've seen
that
shit, and you don't forget it.”

There it was. That had been fast. “How you liking these pharms he’s pumping into you?” Landon asked, returning Roy’s shrug. He traced the pad of his thumb in a small circle along the side of his finger, idly.

Roy’s face was stone. “It’s temporary. In and out like bad music. Guys like you put your finger in people’s ears and push our buttons and we respond like fucking puppets. You just have to live with it. I’ll live with it. You have to train your mind to hold onto a piece of yourself that knows the pharms won't actually kill you, and ride out the rest. Just like anything else.”

Landon looked at Roy skeptically. “Finger in people’s ears? The pharms people interact with in their daily lives are all positive.”

Those bugged out eyes again. “Who the fuck are you to say what’s positive?”

"I'm a business man who guesses. The market decides if I'm right." He shrugged. "It turns out people enjoy the pharms my company sells.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know if I actually want it or my brain is being tricked into wanting it?" Roy spat on the ground near Landon's feet. "With that fucking finger. It's all just a treadmill of bullshit you put people on to get them to tomorrow so they can spend some more money.”

“That isn’t how it works.” Landon shifted in his seat. Why was he arguing this, anyway? “Pharms don’t directly control desire. Anything that people ingest is an amplification of what’s already there.”

“Bullshit.”

Landon locked his eyes with Roy’s. “One of us knows the science.”

Roy shook his head, still agitated. “It doesn’t fucking matter. There’s an effect people don’t understand, but they like it. Fucking sheep, everyone.”

Landon's nostrils flared. His hands were in fists again, just like they'd been with Kevin. Who was rattling who here, anyway?

Whatever. This was as good a transition as any for his threat. Part of him even wanted to follow through, against his better judgment.

“You must hate me,” he said quietly.

Roy scoffed. “They say you're a genius.”

“Wouldn’t want to let me control you,” Landon continued.

That made him still. “What?”

“You don’t know anything about what you’re doing or even who it’s for, right? Just following orders. All you can do, isn't it?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Do you know why your boss is after me?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

Roy's eyes flicked toward the door, then back to Landon. “Yeah, I'm sure.”

Landon licked his lips and brought his hands together, then leaned forward so his elbows were on his knees. His face was maybe a foot from Roy's. “So if I said I had a dosage of the Phobos project with your name on it," he said, his voice quiet. "That wouldn’t mean anything to you. Right?”

Roy didn't flinch, but drops of sweat had formed under his eyes. “Knowing you it sounds like scary shit.”

Landon leaned back. “It is. Because if I give it to you, you will be my
fucking slave
. And then you’ll tell me everything you know.” He put his hand up as Roy opened his mouth to object. “Save it. You’re not cooperating because you don’t have an incentive. This is an incentive.”

Roy looked away, into a corner of the room. He was silent for a moment. “Bullshit. If you have this stuff you would have used it already.”

Landon shook his head. “I don’t want to use it. Really. There’s a reason your boss is trying to steal it from me. But if I have to use it on you to protect myself and the people around me, I will. I didn't get to where I am by being sentimental.”

Again, Roy looked away. Landon studied him carefully as he seemed to weigh his options. The air in the room was still, the lightbulb above them unwavering. It was a place that felt like death—just another moment in time absent the presence of days. At the very least, it was un-life.

The silence weighed down. Dimly, Landon thought he might have heard a creak in the floorboards that indicated Kevin was walking around. He couldn’t be sure it wasn’t in his head.

Roy looked up. “Get me my comm.”

“What?”

“You win, I’ll help you. Get me my comm.”

Landon shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Listen. I have an ID in my comm that I can message. I send a message and then I take the asset to a motel. I wait there. They confirm and they come in. That's all I can do for you.”

“Who’s they?”

“Don’t know. Might be the boss, might be another goon like me. This asset seems high-profile enough to be the boss.”

"Why do you sound like you're some kind of armed forces? You really call your victims assets?"

Roy grit his teeth. "You people think everyone is stupid."

“And you’ve never seen your boss.” Landon shook his head. “This sounds like so much bullshit.”

Roy sat up straight and his expression shifted into a puppy dog begging look. “Listen, you can use the comm and send the message yourself if you’re worried I’m up to something.”

Landon stood up and went to the door. This was the point where he should talk to Kevin. Even if the guy was an asshole.

“We’ll see about that,” he said.

He stood up and left the room. Walked down the hallway with the aero fans still turning on full blast. Went up the stairs. He emerged and walked around the corner, through an underused living room and into a bright kitchen. Tom was sitting at a white kitchen table, while Kevin was leaning against the yellow laminate counter. Their conversation stopped as soon as Landon came into the room.

"Learn anything?" Kevin asked.

Landon shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "He says he wants to play ball. Asked for his comm. He wants us to send a message to an ID in there."

Kevin perked up with interest. "What for?"

"Meet up at a motel, supposedly.”

“Who's the contact? His boss?”

“Maybe. Or someone who knows where the boss is.”

“So he still won’t admit he knows who his boss is?”

Landon shook his head. “No.”

Kevin grimaced, then looked over at the clock on the oven. Landon's eyes went to Tom.

Tom wore a look of utter panic. He didn't seem to like his brother and sister's line of work. It was a wonder they were from the same family.

Finally, Kevin let out a long sigh. “I don’t love it," he said. "At all. But I need to get him into the cops soon. This might be the best we can do.”