Arise (Book Three in The Arson Saga) (3 page)

“Enough, Kyro,” Joel demanded as the boy pulled his hoodie over his head.

“That’s not necessary, Redd. We’re just about ready to head out. We can all leave together.”

“I never liked vampires,” Aimee grumbled.

A violent image flashed in Redd’s mind: her gun lodged between Aimee’s teeth. Weak cries muffled by the black metal sliding against the terrified wife’s tongue.

Joel was the last one to leave the motel room. He locked the door and followed Aimee and Kyro down the steps toward the parking lot. His hunched shoulders told her that, in spite of the hope beaming from his eyes, there was doubt. This search might leave him empty.

Redd walked stiffly behind the man, the gun nudging up against her lower spine. Every minute she kept them alive was another opportunity for her identity to be compromised.

Her phone suddenly began to vibrate hard in her jacket. She checked the screen. It was the vulture she knew as Saul Hoven. Ignoring him all night had been a careless move.

As Kyro and the Phoenixes headed toward the lobby to proceed with checkout, she stayed in the parking lot and answered the call.

“Yes, sir, this is Casey.”

“You’ve made getting a hold of you rather complicated,” the deep voice spoke from the other end. “I’m not particularly fond of unnecessary complications.”

“I didn’t want to risk compromising my identity.”

“I’m perplexed that you think me so naïve. With all the prep you had for this, it was supposed to be easy. I let you off the hook with the grandmother. All you had to do was get rid—”

“I will,” Redd assured him. “It’s just… There’s been a slight miscalculation on my part.”

“Oh? What might that be?”

“There’s a boy with them, sir.”

“Do you see what happens when you reconfigure the plan, try to make your own rules? Your emotions cloud your judgment.” Hoven’s uncomfortable breathing engulfed the speaker. “I don’t have to tell you what needs to be done.”

Redd paused before responding. “Of course.”

“Time is not our ally. Listen to me carefully. When we chose you to be a part of this, I could tell what you were. Your weaknesses were transparent. I have overlooked your maternal tendencies only because I believed I could mold you into a fit and worthy companion for our order. I believed you could become capable, stronger.”

“I am stronger,” she fought.

“I’m beginning to doubt your loyalty of late, I’m afraid.” His words were daggers.

Redd’s left thumbnail dug into her middle finger, stabbing the skin until it bled. “I will contain it, sir.”

“Good. I don’t like feeling threatened.”

Redd searched the lot, making sure there wasn’t a set of eyes studying her.

Hoven added, “Just so you are aware, Subject 218 has gone rogue.”

“Come again?”

“Did I stutter? She managed to escape last night. I have a feeling they had a little help from the inside.”

Krane. He’s always pushing them too far, always testing to see what they’re capable of.
“Who aided in her escape?”

“The
who
is not important. Krane and Lamont will be bringing her back shortly, I imagine. She can’t have gone far. She’s just one little girl. One weak, little girl.”

Hoven’s sick tone twisted her insides.

“I do not need any more aggravation. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir. We’re clear.”

“Good. Choose your next movements carefully, Lana. My eyes are everywhere.”

Her company returned to the parking lot. Kyro brushed up against her and pretended to apologize as the call went dead.

Chapter Three

A
dam wasn’t breathing. But
he had bled enough for Emery to officially reach the point of total panic. His blood was all over her hands. The stain had crept beneath her fingernails. He looked so fragile, and his skin was turning pale. Why on earth wasn’t he breathing? Had he lost too much of himself? Had he sacrificed too much energy during the fight?

The shaking wouldn’t stop anytime soon, Emery knew that much. She couldn’t handle this. She wasn’t good at coping with situations where people she cared about just stopped breathing. Her mind returned to that night when her cousin had taken too many pills. Then it fled to Mandy’s beach, that stupid party she never should’ve gone to. Arson went nuclear then collapsed. He’d stopped breathing too. Maybe that was how it worked with special abilities. Letting out too much power could cause the source to deplete then black out.

But did the source die, or did it just temporarily shut down? Oh no. Her mind had no stop button. Just rewind and blitz forward. Her skipping heartbeat was lost between the bloody scenes. The screams. The bodies scattered around the stairs and in the hallways of that tormented house. Some had been ripped apart, others scorched beyond recognition. None of them had been left with breath in their corrupted lungs. Like Adam now, they just lay there, pitiful human paintings left unfinished.

“Wake up, Adam. Please wake up!” It didn’t matter that her tears dripped over his body. It didn’t matter that she bawled into his blood-soaked t-shirt. He still didn’t move.

The silence of the country road enveloped the Pontiac Firebird. It was closing in, quicker and quicker as the sun grew comfortable in the distant sky. Emery wondered how long she could stare at the brilliant orb before eventually going blind. The more she considered the possibility, the more okay she became with losing her sight. If she were blind, she wouldn’t have seen the hell that existed inside Salvation Asylum. If she were blind, she wouldn’t have constant images of Arson and the lake and her arguing parents cluttering up usable storage space in her brain. If she were blind, the sight of Adam lying lifeless, covered in blood, wouldn’t be freaking her out like this.

Maybe.

Adam needed medical attention. She had to get him help. But where could she go? Hospitals weren’t safe. She’d bet money—if she had any—on the fact that the cops or feds or whoever comprised the asylum’s personnel would have men and women in long coats, sunglasses, and ominous demeanors parked at every hospital or police station in this county and the next; that’s
if
she and Adam weren’t still being tracked.

“How many trackers did you say they put in you?” she asked, but communicating with Adam’s corpse instantly made her feel like a moron.

No, he wasn’t a corpse, not yet. She had to believe it.

Emery gnawed at her fingernails and tasted the flavor of blood. She hated that her nerves refused to settle. Hated how her throat throbbed. “Oh no! Did they put one of those freaking chips in me too?” she screamed. “Adam! Adam, time to come back. You gotta wake up! What am I supposed to do? They’re gonna come! You should’ve killed those creeps back at the house. You should’ve killed them when you had the chance!”

She couldn’t believe what she was saying. She wished those horrible people dead. She imagined a suitable circle of hell awaited them. But before they arrived to their fiery prison, they’d endure Adam’s relentless torture. How she longed for power like that. The power to instill fear. For bravery that would allow her to race back and hunt down every last player in this sadistic game, paralyze and torment them. With shut eyes, she would unleash a fury like they’d never seen. And if that were so, dying wouldn’t matter because she would have vengeance.

Emery dropped her sweaty forehead onto his shoulder. Unstable breaths bled out. She looked at her hands, noticing the lines and smudges of red. Adam’s hands were darker, though. Dirt and black blood had mixed on his pale wrists and lower face. Even his scalp had remnants of his aggression. For the first time she caught a glimpse of a massive gash on the back of his skull. It wasn’t healing. She felt a hideous form of unclean.

“Adam,” she cried softly. “Just wake up. I need you to wake up.” Emery rubbed her ribs. Her body ached. She touched her temple then her legs. New paranoia crawled inside her veins. She wondered where the implant might have been placed in her, and how much time was left before the demons came to take her back.

Chapter Four

The patterns of his
nightmare were a disease. Arson hated the hallways, the rooms—they all had the same ruined look: identical flaking, green-black walls and dead windows. His rage had spawned a reckless trail of flames that wandered beyond and behind their cautious footsteps. Faded lockers had hindered some of his harshest memories from being exposed; nevertheless, he noticed that a sequence of metal cages had been pulled open, bent. Rust formed along the lockers’ twisted edges. A leak from the ceiling now trickled down to corrupt their feeble frames. It didn’t take long at all for things to decay in this place; that much was obvious. Arson’s pulse quickened at the sight of all the torn-open realms.

Adam approached each step with a certain fearlessness Arson desperately wished he possessed. A steady pace that suggested he was looking for something and was close to finding it. But all the silence was driving Arson crazy. He had so many questions, about his powers, about sliding, about why he was plagued to live memories that weren’t his. If Adam could enter another’s subconscious by sliding, did he too have to endure someone else’s intense past? Had he ever before gotten stuck inside of a nightmare like this?

Arson’s eyes opened and shut rapidly, as if his body—or, the body of his mind—knew that doing so was a waste of time. He took a deep breath. As much as he wanted to know the answers to all of his questions, there was one mystery he needed solved first. It was the one thing that mattered above all. He’d been distraught over it since he got trapped in this distorted reality, prior to Adam’s arrival, which had only made everything even more of a blur.
Was Emery still alive?

Why hadn’t
she
broken through?

Why hadn’t she crossed into this supernatural existence?

Why hadn’t the vision of his escape been real? He’d held her against his chest. He’d felt her skin on his skin. Emery was real; all of it was. Arson knew he had mutilated every last one of the sick fiends who had fed him lies and injected him with poisons. They all turned to ash in a matter of minutes. He’d risen out of his coma already and ended their scheme. In fact, he was there again now, his body unleashing a torrent of wrath, power he barely could control. With one breath, he’d watched a doctor become dust. Just by thinking it, his father’s heart had incinerated. The asylum was laid to waste, and Emery’s beautiful smile was first to welcome him back to the real world. If he entertained this reality long enough, maybe he’d smell her again, feel her hair slide across his knuckles, and even sense his knees quiver as her warm breath tickled his neck. He would never let her go.

“Cut it out,” Adam said with a rough nudge. “You wanna get out or stay in la-la land? If we plan on escaping, keep all that sentimental garbage at bay. You need to be able to tell the difference between what’s real and what isn’t. Your ‘breakthrough’ never actually happened. This place just made you think it did. Get over it.”

“This is
my
nightmare,” Arson snarled. “My mind created it. I can control it.”

“Can you?”

No reply. Arson just kept walking.

“Some people say you can control what happens in your dreams. I say maybe, if you’re strong enough.”

“I am. Look around you.”

Adam studied the fiery shapes blazing around them. Colorful flowers that bloomed into the bodies of creatures only a teenage mind could fathom. Dragons and bats and spiders and combinations of reptiles and mammals blended together. An intoxicating splash of sapphire, crimson, and golden light.

“Okay, showoff. But starting fires doesn’t mean you can control everything that happens here. There’s some stuff that goes way back. It’s deep in your subconscious. I’ll bet you don’t even know half the stuff that’s locked in here with us. Or even remember it. I’m talking memories, ideas, bad dream kinda crap. It’s no wonder you haven’t gotten out yet.”

Adam spoke like a frustrated teacher. As they walked by another classroom, Arson was instantly reminded of several teachers he hated. Maybe Adam’s voice was theirs.

“It makes sense if you just think about it for a second. Your mind is a powerful computer. It’s capable of storing images you may have only seen once, thoughts you probably didn’t even mean to think. You read a book, and in that book a woman gets brutally murdered. Your imagination takes a picture with the words that described the action. That picture is now floating around in your brain, forever. You hear a song and it makes you angry. Watch a movie and you get excited because some couple is going at it. All of those things—the lusts, the fears, confusion, hatred—it all lives in here. A part of us can contain it only for so long, but when you’re stuck, like this, all bets are off. There is no delete button, no shut-off switch. You get the good with the bad. Unfortunately, your mind seems to like letting out all the bad. Not to mention, in here, you’re weaker.”

“You make it seem like I’m powerless.”

Adam stopped midstride and scratched his temple. His eye twitched when he spoke. “You’re missing it, Arson. It’s not just about power.” Adam snapped his fingers, and his thumb lit like a candle. As the flame crossed fingertips, a grin toyed with his mouth. “See? You could be your own personal superhero in here if you want, but that wouldn’t be enough. You still wouldn’t get out. Because that’s not how it works.”

“I know, the code and whatever.”

“Hey, lose the attitude. I’m trying to help you. There
is
a specific code that should be able to set you free. Maybe if you got over yourself and started thinking about the future instead of drowning in the past you might be able to help me find the locations of these codes. And just maybe, we get out of here alive.”

Adam quenched the fire in his palm and continued walking.

“Wait a second. You mean it’s possible for me to die in here?”

Adam abruptly replied, “I’ve seen some strange things in my years, but like I said, this is different. All bets are off. Anything’s possible.”

“But if I die in here, maybe I just wake up.”

“You’re in a coma, Arson. Your real-world body will atrophy. A day in here can wear on you out there. Given your weak physical state, if you die in this place, I don’t think you’re just gonna wake up. Besides, if you do, it’ll just keep going. More experiments. More tests. It’ll never step until we end it. I can help.”

A tidal wave collided with Arson’s mind. He was close to drowning, couldn’t breathe. His thoughts crashed into one another—a jumbled, fearful mess. “But these are my thoughts—”

“Most of them.”

“Right. They can kill me?”

“An idea is more dangerous than a bullet. One thought can destroy you. It’s perfect, in a sick way, how the mind works. A nightmare of your own design. You’ve got some freaky stuff in here.”

If I could see your brain, I’m sure I’d be shocked too
, Arson thought.

“Maybe you would be, maybe not,” Adam said.

“I hate it that you can do that.”

“We’re in your head, remember? I can feel everything you think. For all intents and purposes, I’m just another memory. I slid into your mind and chose Danny’s shell because he isn’t a threat. A lot of other things in this place are.”

The heat from the fire he created was starting to push into his pores. Arson began to sweat. “If what you said is true, you know, about the memories and the things trapped in here with us…why should I trust you?”

“Maybe you can’t.”

Arson was anything but comfortable with that answer.

“But right now, I’m here with you, trying to locate the codes that can save your life. You’re no use to me stuck in here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What?” Adam said.

“No use to you?”

“Is that what I said? I meant no use to us. To people like us.”

“There are more?”

Adam grinned. “Yes. And there are still more whose abilities have not manifested, but in time they will. Listen to me; you are by far the most unique. I need you, Arson.
We
need you. Your power, your mind. There’s a darkness coming. Our kind needs someone like you on our side.”

The weight of everything was crushing. Arson had just wanted to be a normal teenager with normal problems. He wanted to freak out about which college to attend. He wanted to bicker with his girlfriend about which movie to watch on a Friday night. But he wasn’t that boy. He didn’t have the luxury of normalcy.

“Being normal is overrated. I would’ve thought you’d have grasped that by now. And the scumbags who did this to you, they’re a virus.” Adam pounded his palm against Arson’s chest like a commander instilling the values of war into one of his troops. “Never forget that!”

Arson nodded and followed the fierce leader around the corner. A man with sharp ears stood in the shadows, waiting with a knife in his hand.

Adam sighed. “Great.”

“Isaac?” Arson said, puzzled.

Adam turned his head but never took his eyes off the man lurking in the shadows. “Well, on the bright side, at least you’re already acquainted.”

Isaac’s fingers choked the blade. Slivers of blood snaked down the metal tip and leaked onto the ash floor, where Arson swore Isaac’s body should have been.

“I killed him.”

“Nothing’s permanent. Haven’t you ever had the same dream twice?”

“What do we do now?” Arson’s throat trembled with a lack of confidence.

“Now? Now, it’s playtime,” came Isaac’s intense whisper. His arm flinched, and he moved closer. Arson tried to focus on the man’s shape, but every time he did, the image distorted, like a bad television signal. Body features got choppy, clothes faded out then came back. But the knife, and that sick glow in his father’s eyes, never left.

“I killed you once, Isaac. I’ll do it again.”

“No need for the threats, son. I’m here to help you, really. To save you. To set you free.” Isaac’s lips peeled back to reveal a horrible smile made of twisted, iron teeth. Black smudges lined the corners of Isaac’s mouth, and spots ran up his cheek. He looked infected.

“Stay away from us,” Arson ordered, his eyes expanding as new fire spread to the walls.

“This is how you see me, son. I am a fractured mess. You want me this way so I can’t harm you, so the truth can’t harm you. You’ve made me a villain. But I swear I’m nothing if not made of good intentions. Daddy knows best.”

“You abandoned me when I was born.”

“But I am here to walk you into your resurrection. Just one cut is all it will take. I swear you will be free.”

“Don’t buy it, Arson,” Adam said.

“But what if this is a part of me? It came back. It didn’t want to stay dead after all. What if it’s trying to save me from…” Arson hesitated, “…myself?”

“Are you blind? Do you not see the bloody knife? It’s not your father, Arson. This ghost will never be him. You could make nice in here all you like, but it doesn’t change the fact that the real Isaac Gable is a part of their system, the ones who did this to you. The ones who put you here. You wouldn’t be in this coma if it weren’t for them. He’s been with the order for a long time. Bury him!”

Isaac licked his teeth then his lips, and his eyes glowed with anticipation. He clenched the undersides of his raw knuckles against the handle of the blade and started running toward them. A wild flame raced out from the wall and cut through the floor. The fire cradled Isaac’s feet, and as fresh cries ascended into the air, Arson imagined blistered soles and ankles. He wished he could capture the terrible sound.

“It won’t be that easy, boy.” Isaac still had the weapon. He lunged out to strike. Arson glanced down at the figure’s feet, now blood-red, the flesh nearly devoured. Bone had replaced flesh. “Let me finish it,” Isaac cooed. “Let me set you free. I set Grandma free. Come here!”

Arson didn’t move when Isaac leapt toward him. Adam stood motionless as a fiery bat swooped down from the ceiling and began to melt the skin around Isaac’s neck. Arson should’ve closed his eyes, but he couldn’t. Isaac’s smile turned a distorted kind of sad as pink material dripped off his cheekbones. His clothing wilted to ashes, and Arson could see his beating heart, but as he blinked, the screams played a sorrowful chorus in his eardrums, like an orchestra building to an otherworldly crescendo. And with a blink, the horror was gone, but a whisper drifted into the air for one final refrain. “I set Grandma free.”

“You hesitated.” Adam exhaled deeply, disappointed.

“He’s gone. Isn’t that what matters?” Arson replied, the flames cowering back to the walls and corners.

“No. He was going to kill you. How could you even think for a second that he was on your side? What if he’d gotten a little closer with that knife, huh? What if he decided to end this nightmare? You’d be dead.”

“You don’t know that for sure!”

“I know enough to be sure that death isn’t the best way out. It’s far too dangerous.”

“Let it go. The arson in me took over anyway, and it killed him.”

“I killed him!”

Arson spun around.

“When
you
hesitated, I sent those flames to do what you couldn’t. It’s that weakness in you that held you back. It’ll be your undoing.”

“Don’t do that again.”

Adam’s gaze challenged his. “What? Make the choice you can’t? Please. If I hadn’t acted, you’d be a bloody mess, and maybe the same goes for me. I’ve never been inside someone’s head when they bought the farm. You may not entirely care what happens to you in here, but I’m not ready to quit just yet. So pull your head out of the sand, and start thinking straight. Isaac’s not the only thing that’ll be looking for us.”

Arson’s eyes wandered from Adam, the boy who looked so much like his childhood friend. A friend who had misled him.