Samantha: Book One
Part 1
By Erynn A. Louviaite
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 Erynn A. Louviaite
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Chapter 1 - Preface
“I think I found it. I’m...” Although she’s speaking softly, her words seem to echo in the deserted restroom. Her normal vocal level isn’t usually so easily interrupted.
“Good. Don’t go inside yet. We’re sending backup.”
“Backup?” Surprised and offended, her tone raises a decibel and bounces of the surrounding tile.
“Change of plans. Wait outside; it could be dangerous.” When she doesn’t respond to the curt explanation, the phone voice emits a sigh. “You’re already inside aren’t you?” Still nothing. “Damn it Samantha! You’re going to cost me my job. Just stay where you are.” The line goes dead and she pockets the phone.
Just stay where you are? Calling from the restroom had seemed like a good idea, but not anymore. She paces the length of the room twice before tiring of that and sitting between the sinks. Her feet swing like a child’s, too short to reach the floor. Time passes slowly and she is nearing the dangerous kind of boredom where anything will do for entertainment. Her wish for an escape from this is granted when a familiar voice drifts into her prison.
“Joey!” Neither the speaker nor the one addressed have a reason to be there tonight. Alarms go off in her head, but she is completely composed as she enters back into the bar to investigate. “I thought you said you were on-call this week,” slurs a drunken David loudly. Not good. Her destination - the long wooden bar that dwarfs the rest of the quaint room - seems so close in this small, intimate bar. The bartender ignores the girl who doesn’t look old enough to purchase anything as she approaches his boisterous customer.
She never gets a chance to quietly ask to speak to him outside as planned, but instead is greeted with, “Hey Samantha! I thought you were working for Mr. Garner tonight.” Busted. She is unable to hide the shock from her face.
In her moment of bewilderment, she is quickly trapped in strong arms from behind. With the reflexes of a trained professional, her limbs fly and she wriggles free… barely. The bartender and another man hurdle the bar, heading for Joe and David. The latter breaks a bottle over the man’s head while Joe dodges his attacker with ease.
The trio is sprinting at the door when a gun explodes. The bullet may have hit David if he hadn’t stumbled over a chair and Samantha is sure she feels the air ripple as the projectile passes her head before breaking a sconce less than a foot away. She freezes with her hand on the door, weighing her options.
If she were alone, she’d be halfway across the parking lot by now. The gravel would be kicking up by her feet as she escaped the range of the guns. She wouldn’t slow down though and soon the bar would be left behind in the dark. She can’t leave them though. They’d be even worse off than the sticky situation they are in now.
“No sudden movements, Miss. Hands on your head and take a couple steps away from that door.” The man who shot the gun is obviously in charge here. “Come on now. Slowly,” he coaxes, tearing her from her thoughts. Having no other option, she does as she’s told.
Her brow crinkles slightly, as she assesses the situation. Outnumbered. Five to three… well the third is slumped over vomiting after the short adrenaline rush. Her hand itches to reach for her gun, heavy on her hip, after realizing there is only one weapon visible and threatening. Joe should have one too, assuming he is actually on call. The two glance at each other, both at a loss as to how to proceed.
Their decision is quickly made for them as the backup charges through the door, startling everyone from the handful of petrified customers who are too stunned to escape, to the bartenders and workers, to the group needing the backup. Her eyebrows pull closer together as she scans the help that has arrived. Mr. O’Riley stands out – a captain and very talented man – but she doesn’t recognize the other five on his heels. They have the numbers now, but these guys must be fairly new.
In a flurry of movement with flashes of metal, guns are drawn on both sides. The room falls silent. Only occasional heavy breathing can be heard. It feels as if time has paused for a moment while each individual analyzes the situation and evaluates their options. It is impossible to consider every scenario – too many factors, too many people crowding this building.
“Bring her over here.” It is the man that shot the gun what seems like so long ago. No one seems surprised that he is the first to speak, but it does snap everyone from their thoughts. Time is no longer paused, but it still feels slower than before. Only two men are no longer frozen. They have both taken a step towards Samantha when she realizes she is the only “her” there.
She stands firmly between the two groups, gun drawn now in an unwavering hand. Her pursuers hesitate until their leader speaks up. “Put it down.” He sounds amused.
“Or what?” is her quick response, which is met with a chorus of chuckles.
“Where did you find her, Mr. O’Riley?” Samantha snaps around to see Mr. O’Riley’s reaction to this direct address. She is surprised they know each other, but Mr. O’Riley isn’t fazed.
“I’m…” Samantha is quickly cut off. She allows the interruption from Mr. O’Riley, being more confused than insulted.
“This is Mr. Colman’s niece,” he lies. The man in charge nods his head in approval at the mention of another captain that he is apparently familiar with. Samantha can no longer suppress the utter confusion that has been threatening to spread across her face.
Who is this man? Why does he know these prominent men? Why doesn’t she have any idea who he is?
The grip on her gun loosens as she struggles to figure out the situation before her. Stupid mistake. It jerks out of her hands to go sailing across the room into the hand of the man in question. Confusion quickly turns to disappointment on her young, transparent face as he tosses her weapon to the ground.
“Now bring her over here.” Her resisting is useless as she is easily overpowered and brought to the ring master of this little circus. He pulls her close after she is handed over and runs his gun through her hair causing her squirming to recommence. “Don’t do that, miss, unless you want a bullet buried…”
“Enough!” Finally Mr. O’Riley speaks up. “What are your terms?” This inquiry sends a smile across her captor’s face.
“My terms?” he sneers. “I had planned on killing the lot of you. You may be talented sir, but an old captain, a couple drunkards, and a bunch of children aren’t exactly a force to be reckoned with.” His tone drips with condescension, especially when commenting on the youngness of the group. New recruits have no place here, but how could anyone expect something so routine to turn into such a mess? Wasn’t that why she was here? This wasn’t supposed to be dangerous.
“But I’d consider keeping this one. She has potential. What do you think about that?” He leans in so that his face is nearly touching Samantha’s. Her response is to elbow him in the stomach, which earns her a bruise-worthy knock to the head with his gun. She doesn’t cry out, but the sound of metal on bone is plenty loud and the anger coloring her face is enough indication of what she’s thinking.
Mr. O’Riley sees this, and he knows he really ought to do something. Samantha senses that something is still strange with Mr. O’Riley and she won’t be getting much help there. This is clear to her so she decides to take matters into her own hands.
The countdown on her fingers begins at five. Her splayed palm is clearly visible to her group. Four… the looks on the newbies’ faces mean they see the countdown and know they will have to act soon. Three…
Chapter 2 – James
April 2nd
A pounding on my door woke me up today. The alarm clock on my nightstand read 7:02. Reluctantly, I rolled out of bed and trudged over to the door, the dream still on the fringe of my mind. When I opened it to see my visitor, I attempted to shut it again, but she stuck her foot in the gap.
“Seven o’clock? Really? What the hell are you doing here?” I just wanted to sleep.
“Frank said we need to get another session in by tomorrow,” my trainer, Elizabeth, answered.
“Can’t it wait?”
“I already have plans after class today. Don’t stay up so late if you can’t wake up early.” That answer and her conniving smile earned her a slamming door in her face. “Be at gym four by quarter ‘til,” she called through it, unfazed.
It was a battle I wasn’t going to win, but she didn’t have to be so rude about it. This is what happens when you force two strong personalities and two oversized egos together. Clash of the titans.
Going back to sleep was useless so I dressed and ate breakfast, making sure to leave time to get a coffee before the gym. As usual, I was the last one there. “Where have you been?” Elizabeth’s voice greeted me when I entered.
I glanced at my phone before answering, “I’m three minutes early.” I set it, along with the rest of my things, down while she rolled her eyes.
“We’re going to start with weights today,” Elizabeth announced, but before I could partner up with Ashley, she added, “Samantha you’re with me. You and Ashley never get anything done when you’re partners.” I let this one slide, at least for now and lay down on a bench. Elizabeth’s version of spotting was to lean on my equipment while supervising the rest of the group.
After finishing my first set, I waited for her to move her hand out of the way, but she wasn’t paying attention. I put the bar down on her fingers. “What’s your problem?” Her icy blue-eyed glare was piercing.
“I thought you were paying attention. Sorry.” My voice was completely devoid of apologetic tones though.
“I’d watch the attitude if I were you.” I picked the bar back up for another set before asking her why, even though I didn’t particularly care. “I believe you’ve broken some rules… wouldn’t want Mr. Garner to hear about that.”
“Are you threatening to tattle on me?” I laughed. Her response was to push the barbell down toward my chest so that her face was within inches of mine.
“You had a guy in your apartment last night. You know what Mr. Garner says about distractions while on-call.”
“I’m not technically on-call right now.” I pushed the barbell back up onto its rest.
“So you aren’t going to deny it?” I shook my head.
“Are you and James getting serious?” Kayla asked. Her voice alone made me want to hit her. How this group has been successful is beyond me.
“Yeah what were you up to last night?” Erin, her minion who is almost equally annoying, joined in, much to my displeasure.
“We were just watching a movie. He didn’t stay the night.”
“She’s hiding something,” Elizabeth announced with a grin. Kayla and Erin agreed.
“Why do any of you care what Samantha does in her free time?” Ashley came to my rescue.
“Don’t worry about it Ashley. I have nothing to hide,” I argued.
“Then maybe I’ll just tell Mr. Garner and he can give you a lie-detector test like last time,” Elizabeth laughed. Everyone joined in. They are so jealous of me.
“Did he really ask if you and Brad had sex?” Kayla asked. “How awkward!”
“You lied to him right?” Erin assumed.
“I didn’t have to. Brad’s the liar. I didn’t do anything with him,” I corrected. “After I dumped him, he started the rumors.”
“Sure Sam, whatever.” Elizabeth obviously didn’t believe me, but I didn’t care. The subject was dropped and the remainder of the training session went smoothly.
I had to shower and prepare for class quickly in order to get there early for a test that I missed. I would rather have been taking the test the first time than missing it for some stupid errand for Mr. Garner which ended up being a dud. Mr. Campbell, the history teacher had already placed it on my desk when I arrived. We only exchanged a few words before the test and I finished quickly.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked when I got up to leave since class didn’t start for another twenty minutes. I pointed this out to him, but he insisted I stay to work on the homework I missed. I knew better than to argue with a teacher.
Those twenty minutes crept by. Then the class itself was sluggish and the rest of my classes weren’t much better. Finally as my last class of the day was winding down, a young girl hand delivered the teacher a piece of yellow paper.
Everyone knew what that was – a list from Mr. Garner’s office with names and appointment times. Usually people would be called to his office to be assigned missions or other tasks. Usually it was a good thing to be called down…
“Only two today,” the teacher, Mrs. Clark, announced. “Samantha Garner at 4:15 and James Louis at 4:30.” I looked at James; He seemed nervous. Mr. Garner had done the same thing last time I had someone over. He calls me to his office first and lectures me, and then he calls the guy down and lectures us both. I was not in the mood for this.
Class ended at four and I met Ashley in the lobby as usual. We talked there for a while and waited for my appointment time. At about 4:10 James came running through the lobby, looking worried.
“There you are! Are we in trouble? I can’t afford to get into any more trouble. I’m going to be put on probation.”
“I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry,” I assured him. I gave him a hug, and then he kissed me, but the timing couldn’t have been any worse. Mr. Garner walked in right at that moment.
“Sorry to interrupt. Can I escort you to my office?”
“Don’t I have like five minutes?” I attempted to stall, not wanting to be lectured for longer than I had to.
“It’s 4:12. Stop stalling.” He knows me too well.
“Let me get my stuff.”
“She can watch it for you.” He was getting frustrated. I looked at Ashley.
“I have to be somewhere at…” Ashley started, helping me buy time.
“Don’t even try it, Miss Brewer.” He linked his arm through mine. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, Mr. Louis.” We took the elevator to the third floor. Luckily, there were other people in the elevator so he didn’t begin his lecture early. When we got to his office, I paused to talk to the secretaries.
We had become pretty close since I’ve come there nearly every day for the past few years. Mr. Garner allowed this as he unlocked the door to his office and stood with it open, waiting for me. He cleared his throat when I didn’t enter promptly, then closed it behind me. “You managed to make us three minutes late. I hope you’re happy,” he announced, looking at his watch. I sat on one side of the large wooden desk while he made his way to the other side. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at me.
Right when he started to talk my phone rang. “Give it to me,” he demanded. I took it out of my purse and he grabbed it away. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.” He started almost all of his lectures like this. “I made the rule about distractions while working because of you, and you are the only one who can’t seem to follow it. You are a very talented young woman, but you need to get your priorities straight.”
“James has just arrived,” one of the secretaries said over the intercom. Mr. Garner glanced at his watch. James was early.
“Go ahead and send him in now.” Great, he was just getting started. James came in and sat next to me, looking a nervous wreck. I smiled and squeezed his hand behind the desk where Mr. Garner couldn’t see. “Mr. Louis you know the rule about distractions while working, don’t you?”
“Yes sir,” James answered politely.
“He wasn’t working,” I pointed out.
“Am I going to have to ask you to leave so I can have a decent conversation with James?” I didn’t respond, just sunk back into my chair. “Were you aware that Samantha was working?”
“Yes sir.”
“You’ve been in a bit of trouble lately haven’t you?”
“Yes sir.”
“James are you nervous?”
“No sir.” That was a lie.
“What were you doing with my niece last night?”
“Just watching movies, sir.” Mr. Garner paused for a long time. Bringing up the uncle/niece thing didn’t produce the flinch - visible or verbal - he always seems to be looking for when he brings it up. It’s not like they don’t already know it; it’s not like everyone doesn’t know it.
“James you are dismissed, but I’m warning you, don’t become a distraction for my niece. She has more important matters to worry about right now. And stay out of trouble or I’m going to have to forbid you to see her.” James and I got up. “Samantha you were not dismissed.” It was worth a try. I sat back down, angry. Mr. Garner waited for James to leave.
“Everything I do is for your own good. I make rules to protect you. That boy is nothing more than a distraction. You have a job Samantha, and I expect that to be your priority.”
“Correction: everything you do is for your own good, whether it involves me or not. And…” Was all I got out before he cut me off.
“That’s enough. I don’t want to hear any more from you. You are dismissed,” he said sharply. It was useless to argue with him, but I was still angry. I stood up and kicked my chair over before marching out the door.
It may seem easy to have your uncle as your boss, but it’s just the opposite. My uncle raised me because my parents disappeared when I was a toddler. Mr. Garner was never much of an uncle though… or a parent… or even a guardian.
Chapter 3 – Taking Charge
Her fingers drop one at a time. Three… two… one.
The man looks around, confused and holding his empty arms in front of him awkwardly. His head jerks backward as an invisible force connects with his jaw. Seconds later, his gun clatters to the floor in front of one of Mr. O’Riley’s men.
Samantha’s gun disappears from the ground at the man’s feet. Two bartenders run blindly to the place she was last seen. The first immediately clutches his stomach and the second stops dead before his knees buckle from a crippling blow.
“Everybody freeze! Samantha get over here.” She doesn’t want to be in his line of fire and does as she is told. “All of you put your hands where I can see them.” Silence blankets the room again until a gunshot interrupts it. For a moment, the entire room is unsure where it came from.
Mr. O’Riley drops to his knees, clutching his chest. The silence feels heavier now and the temperature of the room seems to have increased. Does this place feel smaller than before?
“Are you alright?” Samantha asks, bravely blocking out the panic.
“I’m fine,” he mutters, but he isn’t fine.
“Who shot that?” Samantha’s gun is drawn and ready to fire. “Who shot that?” she repeats louder. Mr. O’Riley is blacked out when she glances back down at him. One of his men is dressing the wound, unconcerned with the rest of the commotion.
Seemingly simultaneously, another shot sounds and Samantha’s arms drop limply. A window had shattered that time. Blood drips onto the ground as she raises her gun and returns fire through the broken window that is letting a cool draft into the stifling room.
Someone outside screams in pain, but her gun is now pointed at the man in charge. It feels heavier than before. “Order them to stop shooting.” Her voice threatens to crack.
He shakes his head with a smile as he answers, “They’re not my men.” With that, more bullets penetrate the building and everyone ducks. No one is mortally wounded, but redness is flowering on the man’s shoulder. He orders his men to take care of the nuisances outside. An onslaught of gunshots is followed by wounded yelling. Whoever had been outside is dead now including whoever Samantha had already shot if he wasn’t dead already…
Believing it is safe, everyone begins to stand again, but it is too soon. Not all of them are dead. A man runs in from the back of the bar, badly injured and covered in blood. He is going to die fighting though. Samantha’s gun is still pointed at the other man when the wounded warrior sends a bullet into her neck, right above the bulletproof vest.
She clutches her hand around the gash. It had been a great shot, but her’s is better. He flops down on the ground after her bullet nails him between his eyes. She has killed him and is sure she is about to faint. The smell of blood strikes her nostrils, burning them and making her stomach churn. Red stickiness is trickling towards her and the metallic scent is growing continually stronger.
She is unaware that Mr. O’Riley is being hurried outside while the gunmen are occupied. The mess she has created on the floor mesmerizes her and she jumps when Joe gently touches her shoulder. He attempts to speak, but nothing comes. Instead, he pulls David to his feet and the trio walks each other towards the door.
Before they can exit, a forceful grip clasps around Samantha’s arm. It doesn’t even faze the man that Joe and David both have guns touching his temples. She tries to pull away, but his hand is unyielding. Paying no attention to her struggles or the threat of the guns, he roughly pulls the bloody sleeve up to examine the place where she was shot. He wipes away the blood, knowing what he would see underneath… nothing. Not a scratch.
She allows him to remove her blood-soaked hand from her neck, already aware that he had discovered the secret. She turns away as he leans in to get a closer look. His inspection yields the same observations as that of her arm. The bullets are gone, probably laying on the ground somewhere covered in a darkening red liquid, and the skin where the wounds should have been is perfectly smooth.
“I had suspected that is was you, Miss Garner, but I didn’t recognize you. The last time I saw you, you were just a toddler. You’ve grown to be a very lovely young woman.” She successfully jerks her arm away from him, but only because he allows her to this time.
Panic and fear increase her heartbeat and breathing. He knows and Joe and David are her only protection. He is going to kill her or take her prisoner, which is arguably worse. He’s going to run tests and do experiments. She’ll never see her friends again.
Samantha had frozen, but Joe had not. He tugs on her arm gently at first, but it takes a firmer pull to get her moving. “Have a safe trip home. Let’s not wait so long until we meet again.” The man just stands there as the three of them exit without another problem.
Chapter 4 – Mr. Locke
April 3rd
For the second day in a row, a knock on the door woke me up before eight o’clock. I opened it - looking awful and probably angry - to see one of Mr. Garner’s messengers with a hint of fear in his eyes.
“Good morning.” The relief in my voice after seeing that it wasn’t Elizabeth came across as friendly enough.
“Mr. Garner wants to see you.”
“For what?”
“He didn’t tell me, sorry.”
“I’ll be out in a minute.” I threw on a sweatshirt and redid my ponytail before following the messenger down the hall to the dreaded office.
“Go on in, he’s expecting you,” Mrs. Shrotz, one of the secretaries told me. He was looking out his window that overlooked the front lobby. I came in quietly, sat down, and made myself comfortable. After a moment, he sat down too.
“I need you to do something for me.” He paused, looking for a reaction, but I didn’t give him one. “We tracked down a man that used to work for Mr. Brown. I need you to bring him to me.”
“Alive?”
“Yes, I need to ask him a few questions.”
“What do you need me for? That sounds easy enough to give to someone else.”
“I think he’s expecting something and…” Mr. Garner was interrupted by the other secretary over the intercom, announcing that Mr. Jefferson had arrived. “Send him in.”
A short bald man scurried into the room with a tape measure, explaining that he had to take measurements for my costume. I gave Mr. Garner a questioning look. “Mr. Locke frequently calls a… an extreme dating service.” Color rose to his cheeks, apparently quite uncomfortable with the discussion.
“This guy is expecting a prostitute?” I laughed, but no one joined. The silence meant yes.
Mr. Garner continued where we left off after our guest exited. “I need you for this because I think he’s expecting something, and you will not be carrying a weapon because…”
“Nowhere to put it.”
“Don’t interrupt me Samantha. I guess that’s part of it, but part of his talents enable him to detect weapons.”
“So how do I take him down?”
“We’ll discuss all that at the briefing. For now, rest up. I’ll send you the timeline when it’s finished. You’re dismissed.”
I met Ashley and James for breakfast later and before I could even start talking about the mission, a messenger delivered the timeline. “Is that for today?” James asked and I nodded in response as I scanned the paper.
“I have a briefing at three for an hour then dinner five to seven. Damn that’s a long time.”
“I won’t even suggest skipping out early after how mad he got last time,” Ashley laughed. James held back for a moment, but was unable to refrain from joining in.
“People told me they could hear him screaming at you in the elevator.”
“Real funny, guys.” It was supposed to be a privilege to have dinner with Mr. Garner in the formal dining room. Other “important” people would be there and it was an honor usually given to people before “important” missions or other special occasions. I’ve always dreaded it because it is extremely boring. “So what do you want to do until three?”
***
Three o’clock came around quickly. After being wished good luck, I hurried to the briefing room where Mr. Garner and Don, the briefing guy, were already waiting. “You’re late. Pick a desk.” I chose not to point out that I had arrived a minute early according to my phone.
This was the worst part of any mission, especially when I acted alone and had to sit through the briefing by myself. The lights turned off and Don started his slideshow of boring information about Mr. Jeffrey Locke. I zoned-out after about five minutes, and began falling asleep after ten.
“Samantha!” Mr. Garner yelled. “Pause for a moment,” he instructed Don. “Samantha, what was Mr. Locke’s first job when he began working for Mr. Brown?”
“Umm… he was….” I struggled to remember or at least come up with a guess.
“You weren’t paying attention.” Mr. Garner was frustrated with me already, but what else was new?
“Yes I was,” I lied. “He was a security guard.” It wasn’t a bad guess. That was a normal starting level job. Not to mention it was the first thing that popped into my head.
“That was a lucky guess. Now pay attention. Start it again.”
“From the beginning?” Don and I asked in stereo. He nodded. From that point on, each time I put my head down or rested my head on my hand he would yell at me. After a half hour of watching it a second time for a total of forty-five minutes, I fell asleep sitting straight up. It didn’t last long because my head fell giving away the fact that I was asleep. Mr. Garner slammed his hand on my desk to wake me up, and I nearly fell out of it.
“Go get ready for dinner. Be there by quarter ‘till, and don’t even think about sneaking out early. It’s time to get serious. We’re down to six hours.”
I was so glad to get out of there early, but I still barely arrived to dinner on time.
I fought sleep through the entire boring ordeal. My seat at Mr. Garner’s right was surrounded by his rich, powerful friends and their snobby sons. He’s been trying to get rid of James in exchange for one of these monsters in order to use me to get closer to these powerful families. It’s not going to happen and I’m sure he knows this, but he continues to try nonetheless.
Finally, the dinner was over after two long hours and Mr. Garner made his final good luck toast. I could feel his eyes burning into my back as I hurried out of there to avoid any unnecessary socializing. No lecture could be worse than spending extra time with these people.
I had a little time to change into something more comfortable before costume and makeup, which I arrived to slightly early so as not to push Mr. Garner’s limits. Kaeleigh, the makeup artist, had already received her instructions and went right to work. The two of us chatted away while Mr. Garner sat with Mr. Jefferson, drinking coffee and having their own conversation.
When I emerged from behind the screen where I put on my costume Mr. Jefferson made adjustments while Kaeleigh fixed my hair and makeup. Mr. Garner didn’t even look up, but instead appeared to be busy on his phone until it rang.
“Now?” he asked, surprised. “Why is she so early? …She’ll be right down.” He snapped the phone shut and tossed me a coat. “Time to go.” He was out the door immediately and I had to jog to catch up. We walked down to the garage where the van was waiting and he mumbled good luck as he ushered me inside.
“Sammy!” It was Mr. Garner’s usual group, all of whom is in their twenties and treats me like a little sister.
“Our little Sammy is growing up.” They all laughed.
“And who knew she could look so hot,” one of them added. The back door opened to reveal a Mr. Garner who was not as amused as the rest of us.
“I don’t appreciate those comments, boys, and Samantha don’t encourage them. It’s time to get serious.” He shut the door again, and the van was full of muffled laughter as we pulled away.
It didn’t take long until we stopped again. Two boys jumped out to get the real girl. They would probably manipulate her memory and leave her somewhere safe until she wakes up again. The driver motioned for me to get out and I was left alone.
It was only a few blocks to Mr. Locke’s apartment but it seemed a lot farther. The streets were empty, and most of the streetlights were broken. Cracked paint and crumbling roofs covered the apartment buildings. The unlocked door creaked as I pushed it open and I took the stairs to the third floor. Mr. Locke’s apartment was the very last one at the end of the quiet hallway. When I knocked on the door, it seemed to echo through the building.
“Hello beautiful,” Mr. Locke greeted, opening the door. He invited me in and I cringed as the older man took my coat and hung it up. I had to get this over with quickly. Before either of us could say another word, I thrust a needle into his stomach, which was supposed to knock him unconscious.
He didn’t go down though. In fact, he didn’t seem affected at all. I was so shocked that I hardly even reacted when he reached for my neck. Soon I was pinned to the wall with a small shiny knife in my face.
“Who are you? Who sent you? And what was in that needle?” he demanded. Silence. I couldn’t have made my mouth work even if I wanted to; it felt like sandpaper. My phone, which I could’ve used to call for back up, was in my coat out of reach. Lovely.
“It would be a shame if I had to cut this beautiful face. You best start talking,” he threatened. I wasn’t talking; that’s what gets you into trouble. I pulled the oversized needle from his stomach and stabbed the hand grasping the knife, which clattered to the ground. I disappeared and dashed to the other side of the room while he punched a dent in the wall where my head had been.
“I have to admit, that was pretty impressive, but what are you going to do now? Those windows don’t open. This door is the only way out.” I stayed still and silent. He would pass out any minute. My heart sank when he began ruffling through my coat pockets. I did nothing as he found my phone, threw it on the ground, and crushed it beneath his foot. “Don’t make this difficult, dear. You’re trapped. Show yourself… Now.” He took a few steps toward me and I was sure he could see me somehow, but he stopped and pulled something out of a cabinet.
“Ever heard of revealing dust?” I had, but never experienced it. Suddenly the whole room seemed to be covered in whiteness including me. “There you are.”
Taking a step backwards cornered me even more so I stood firm until he was closer at which point I attempted to duck passed him. His hands tangled in my hair first before pulling me into a painful headlock and forcing me to my knees. Tears wanted to come and panic was creeping in, but I held them both off.
“Show yourself.” I attempted to pry his arms off, but he only tightened his grip. “Don’t make me ask you again.” I appeared when I could no longer breathe, and he wasted no time. I was quickly pinned on my stomach and my arms were wrenched behind my back into handcuffs with his legs holding mine immobile.
“Now I’ll ask you again. Who are you, who sent you, and what was in that needle?”
“I’m not telling you anything.”
“Last warning.” No response. The pain in my forearm shot all the way up to my shoulder and I screamed. It was a clean cut, though, and healed quickly.
“No… no he didn’t send the little Garner did he?” He already knew the answer. “The old man is getting stupid isn’t he? Maybe we should teach him a lesson, but how do you kill someone who can heal themselves? Perhaps we should get out of here before someone arrives to help you.”
“You’re making a big mistake. He’ll…” The sound of something solid making contact with my head reached me before the pain. I don’t remember finishing that threat.
Chapter 5 – A Weakness
April 4th
I slowly opened my eyes.
“She’s awake.” I saw blurry images of people standing around me.
“Let me through. Let me through,” said a familiar voice. It was Mrs. Lorry, the nurse. I was back at headquarters. “How are you feeling?”
“Dizzy.” I tried to sit up, but lay back down. “How long was I out?”
“They weren’t able to get into the apartment until about an hour after you were knocked unconscious,” Mrs. Lorry explained. “You’ve only been here for about thirty minutes. I have other patients, but I’ll be right back to check on you. It looks like you have plenty of people to keep you company.” The five boys from the mission, Ashley, James, and few others were crowded around my bed.
“What happened to Mr. Locke?”
“He’s detained in the basement somewhere. You were both unconscious when we finally got inside.”
“Everybody out! What are you all doing in here?” Mr. Garner stormed into the room. “You boys can stay. I need to talk to you too.”
“Great,” Patrick, the oldest and most leader-like of the group mumbled.
“First of all, Samantha what happened to you? I warned you this could be dangerous.” I wasn’t surprised Mr. Garner thought this was my fault.
“Well whatever was in that needle of yours didn’t work.”
“I do not need the attitude, Samantha. You all have done enough to anger me this evening.” But his actual version of this statement was much more colorful. “Boys what took you so long?”
“We couldn’t get in, sir. There were too many people. They would’ve seen us,” Patrick explained.
“Well next time you better come up with a plan B.”
“Yes sir,” the boys answered in unison.
“So what were you doing this whole time?” His attention was back on me.
“What was I doing? I was trying not to get killed by the psychopath that should’ve been knocked out by the needle I stuck him with as soon as I got there. That stuff sucked. It took forever and that guy…”
“That’s enough Samantha.”
“He knew it was me. He was going to kill me.” I sat up much too quickly.
“I said enough. You boys are dismissed.”
“I don’t feel good.” I put my head in my hands and willed my stomach not to empty itself. Mrs. Lorry helped me to lie back down slowly.
“You stay put. Do you feel like eating?” I told her I didn’t then she turned to Mr. Garner. “She needs to rest. Quit exciting her.” He frowned, but said nothing. This woman was one of the few people who had the guts to speak to Mr. Garner like that. I’m sure plenty of people could get away with it though.
“I’m calling in some experts to look at you. I don’t like how slowly you’re recovering,” he announced after she walked away.
“Please don’t. I’m fine. Really.” I failed at fully hiding the pained look as a wave of dizziness and nausea swept over me.
“Sure you are. Listen to Mrs. Lorry. Stay put.” With that, he left. She checked on me often and eventually convinced me to try to eat something. Moments after I got situated with the meal tray, Mr. Garner reappeared. He took away the tray despite my protests and told me to lose the attitude.
When his phone rang, he instructed whoever it was to “Send them in.” Three people dressed in doctor whites entered and Mr. Garner turned into the perfect host, smiling and introducing me.
“And Samantha, this is Dr. Sidel, Dr. Klarck, and Dr. Cameron. She’s all your’s.”
“So how do you feel right now?” Dr. Klarck asked. He was older than the other two with grey hair and glasses.
“I’m fine.”
“Sounds like you had a rough night last night,” Dr. Cameron commented. She had dark hair slicked back into a tight bun. She had the potential to be very pretty if she wore makeup and took her hair down.
“Yeah, but I’m fine now.”
“Mr. Garner warned us that you weren’t going to be happy that he called us,” Dr. Sidel was a smartass - I could tell already. He was the youngest and very cocky.
“Because this is all totally unnecessary. I’m fine.”
“Better safe than sorry. We just want to do a couple tests. Follow my finger please.” Dr. Klarck got right to work. The trio hooked me up to machines and wheeled me to other parts of the hospital wing for scans and stuff that seemed pointless to me.
The clock insisted that only two hours had passed, but it felt like at least twice that. “This is getting ridiculous.” I had been extremely cooperative and quiet until that point. They ignored me while they stood gathered next to a screen, looking at something intently.
“Have you found anything wrong yet?”
“Something abnormal, yes,” Dr. Cameron finally answered. “I think we’ve found your weakness.”
“What are you talking about?” That was not what I was expecting to hear.
“Your head,” Dr. Klarck explained. “It seems you’ve suffered at least one blow too many. It’s abnormally sensitive and it’s not going to take a lot to cause another concussion from here on out.”
“But I… no… no… That can’t be right.” I could hardly get the words out, but then mumbled softly, “He’s going to kill me.”
“What was that?” Dr. Cameron asked. She surely saw the fear in my eyes, but her assumption about what she thought she heard was wrong. “Mr. Locke is…”
“That’s not who I’m worried about and I… I didn’t mean that literally. You should probably tell my uncle now so we can get that over with.”
If this news were to get out I would be in serious trouble. What is the point in being able to heal myself if all someone has to do is hit me in the head for the fight to be over? There are people out there who would love to capture me and run tests on me like a stupid lab rat. This can’t be leaked…
“What do you mean?!” I hadn’t even heard Mr. Garner enter, and his voice made me jump.
“Sir, please stay calm and let me explain…”
“This can’t happen. Are you sure? She can’t have a weakness. I’ve worked for over ten years to prevent this!” The doctors weren’t sure how to respond. “All my hard work. There has to be something you can do.”
“With all due respect, I think you are blowing this out of proportion. Please stop for a moment and consider what you are saying.” Dr. Klarck spoke calmly, but was obviously shocked at Mr. Garner’s reaction. The doctors exchanged glances.
The whole situation was awkward for all of us, except maybe for Mr. Crazy who continued pacing and running his fingers through his small bit of hair. I tore off some medical-thingy that was attached to my arm and got up from the hospital bed. “I’ll show you to the door,” I said softly. The doctors followed without a word, but when we got to the door they seemed reluctant to leave.
I thanked them but had trouble making eye contact. There are very few people who have seen my uncle explode like this. It was embarrassing. I just wanted them to leave. “He’ll be fine,” I assured them, but this didn’t seem to satisfy them. “I’ll be fine.” That’s what they wanted to hear.
“Make sure to call us if you have any problems,” Dr. Cameron offered. I nodded. All three of them shook my hand and the awkward exit finally came to an end.
I slipped back to my apartment quietly, only wanting to be alone for a while. “A while” turned into all day. Lunch had already passed and I didn’t want to go down to the cafeteria for dinner so I ate a bag of chips and a juice box instead. That was the only food I had in my apartment because I usually ate every meal in the cafeteria.
My television was on, but I wasn’t really watching it. My mind wandered. Mr. Garner’s outburst earlier had stirred up some old memories. He has always had a horrible temper, and it gets worse with alcohol, which he used to drink frequently until about four years ago. He did a good job of keeping it secret, for the most part. His ex-wife, Janice; his daughter, Kristen; and I were probably the only people who knew about it and were affected by his over-drinking.
He started abusing alcohol after a raid at headquarters in which twenty-three people were killed. A large group went after the people who were responsible for the raid. He was part of this group. So were both my parents. Twenty-eight of these people never returned, my parents included. The survivors said that it was as if these people disappeared into thin air. One by one, they were separated from their group. Their radios stopped working and the tracking device in their radio was deactivated. A gunshot was never heard. No trace was ever found.
I was put into the custody of Mr. Garner, though he had never been much of a kid person. It was a bad decision from the start and it only got worse. They already had a six-year-old, my cousin Kristen, and they found themselves also having to raise a four-year old. My uncle never wanted much to do with me until he came up with a bright idea, probably after getting drunk one night.
He decided that the Force - our elite military group - needed some kids for special undercover-type missions. He said that it would be a great way to “make some of these orphans useful.” That’s what he considered me. He didn’t care that I was his niece. I was only another orphan – one of many little burdens in our society because of all the violence and lack of acceptance of people like us. I was a burden that he was determined to make into a blessing. His drinking eventually grew worse and he and Janice divorced.
I can remember waking up before the sun rose to run and exercise. It was like boot camp, but I was the lone participant. He yelled at me and beat me. His clichéd motto, of which I was reminded constantly, was “what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.” He taught me how to use a gun and I was probably as good, if not better, than any man or woman around when I was only seven or eight.
During that time, my cuts and scars and bruises from the beatings seemed to heal faster. My arms didn’t look as banged up as they used to. My uncle didn’t notice, but I did. When he wasn’t around, I used to prick my finger and watch it heal or touch a hot burner and watch the blister disappear. It was exciting and my confidence spiked. Maybe I would be like the amazing people Mr. Garner talked about.
I became less disciplined, which made my uncle angrier, which caused more beatings, but what did I care? I’d be healed before the next morning. His beatings also caused me to discover more of my talents.
One day when I was about nine, he had me cornered. He stood ready to strike and I waited for the painful blow, but it never came. I slowly looked up at him. He was staring at me, stupefied.
“Samantha?” he asked. The anger seemed to have left his voice. He looked around the room and called my name again. I was afraid to answer. He had never acted so strange. The floorboard under me squeaked when I started to crawl away. His head snapped back around to look at me and he reached his hand out in my direction. I guarded my face with my arm. When the tip of his finger touched it, he jerked it back.
“What are you doing?” I was nearly in tears. Only “nearly” though because tears didn’t go over so well in that household.
“I can’t see you.” I obviously didn’t understand.
“What are you talking about?”
“All I can see is the wall behind you. Samantha you are invisible.” I had a fit, of course. This was terrifying news to a nine year old. My uncle put out his arms to find me, and then pulled me close to him. This was the first and the last time I remember receiving any sort of affection from him.
When I relaxed, I became visible again. I pulled away from him and he reached out his hand toward me. He was probably going to try to continue comforting me, but I ran away to my room. I lay down on my bed before realizing I had gotten there in less than a second. I had run across the living room, down the hall, and into my room in the blink of an eye. This was all too overwhelming. Most kids slowly begin developing their powers around age twelve or thirteen. I had just discovered two within a period of five minutes. I could disappear and run at extremely high speeds in addition to being able to heal myself. I began to rebel against my uncle.
I was tired of living in fear and trying to please Mr. Garner. I was out-and-out disobedient. I didn’t do a thing I was told and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. I would run away from him and disappear and hide from him. After a few months of this, he realized that he had to sober up. I was out of control. He sent me away to live with my father’s cousins, Steve and Megan Barber.
The Barbers were nice people. Everything was very structured and organized. Mrs. Barber began teaching me. I turned out to be a fast learner. Mr. Garner never taught me to read or write or anything academic for that matter. He said that it would never be necessary for me. The Barbers made sure I had contact with other kids my age, which hadn’t happened in over four years. The Barbers were the best thing that ever happened to me. I turned out to be a “normal” kid for the most part and I was caught up in school when I finally began attending at thirteen.
While I was away, Mr. Garner sobered up and regained his spot as president of Headquarters. He gave me my own apartment near his office in the luxury end of the building as a gift for my fifteenth birthday. I soon realized that he was beginning to bribe me. It was too good to be true.
Seven months later, he sent me on my first mission. He said it was an initiation. The Barbers tried to object, but Mr. Garner sent me anyway. He said that he had prepared me well. There was some kind of undercover business going on at this restaurant that he wanted me to “check out.” The “backup” that he sent were a bunch of scared, new guys who were even less experienced than me. They were led by someone more experienced but he was shot. I tried to take control of the situation with little success, and was shot in the arm and the neck. I shot and killed two men that night, putting a bullet right through one’s head and he fell only feet away from me. I was only fifteen.
Chapter 6 – Eavesdropping
“She’s going to be amazing!”
“Frank honey, you’re drunk. She’s still too young - she’s just a child.”
“I’ve waited long enough. I have to start developing these skills while she’s young. By the time she’s a teenager, she’ll be the ultimate fighting machine! She’ll be the head of the Force the day she turns eighteen.”
“She’s a child, not a soldier. Kate would not have wanted this for her daughter, and Joseph would’ve disapproved with starting her so young.”
“Janice, don’t worry so much. She’s not your child or your responsibility. All you need to worry about is Kristen.”
“Kristen is your daughter too. You can’t put all of your effort into making this girl a military machine. You’ll be doing her more harm than good, not to mention what this will do to our family.”
“Who’s going to stop me?”
“Your father won’t approve of this.”
“My father will be retiring soon. Since his oldest son has disappeared, I’ll be put in charge and then I am my only boss. I’ll sculpt her into the perfect girl. I can see her now….”
“You’ll never get away with this.”
“You’re just afraid that Kristen will have to live in her shadow.”
“Frank, I can’t stand to hear any more of this nonsense.”
“Nothing is keeping you here.”
* * *
Though this happened years ago, I clearly remember the hurt, worried look on my Aunt’s face as she stormed off. I hadn’t understood what they were arguing about and he yelled so frequently that it hardly bothered me anymore, but that look scared me.
This argument frequently crawls up out of my subconscious to torment me. I understand it now; I’ve decided that’s not a good thing though. I rather be the naïve child eavesdropping and not knowing just how badly that should have scared me.
Chapter 7 - Abedeji
April 5th
I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. I didn’t have any haunting dreams from past missions like I do frequently. I looked at the clock; it was only nine. I was actually up early enough to go on my morning jog and still make it down to the cafeteria for the breakfast bar, which ends at eleven. I got dressed, pulled my hair back, grabbed my iPod from the charger, and headed downstairs.
I tiptoed through the lobby. Most people were either still asleep or already at their office. As I opened the front door, someone grabbed my shoulder. I didn’t recognize the guy that was standing there. Obviously not happy about being stopped, I yanked out my headphones.
“Ms. Garner?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Abedeji.”
“Nice to meet you too.” I had no idea who he was and I really didn’t care at that moment, being the complete opposite of a morning-person.
I put my headphones back on and pulled open the door, but he forced it shut. I snapped my head around to face him. I’m not often told “no,” but I suddenly lost the urge to argue. This was the first time we actually made eye contact. Neither of us said anything for a moment as we studied each other.
He was trying to look serious and authoritative. His jaw was stiff and he held his lips together in a thin, straight line, but this looked unnatural for him. I could see a smile behind his dark brown eyes. Something intangible held us there and prevented either of us from looking away. That is, until someone tried to open the door from the outside. The trance was broken.
We stepped out of the way for a tall, sweaty man who had probably just returned from a morning jog. We both let out an awkward laugh. Who was this mysterious stranger? It was time to get back to business. “So what do you want?” I asked. He still appeared entranced.
“I’m your new bodyguard.”
“You’re my what?” I had heard what he said, but couldn’t believe it.
“Mr. Garner said that you weren’t going to happy about this. The other thing he said was that he doesn’t want you leaving headquarters.”
“Well you can go and tell him that he was right. I’m definitely not happy about this. I don’t need a babysitter. You can also tell him that I refuse to stay here like a prisoner. And add that he’s a controlling a....”
“Do you want to get some breakfast?” Abedeji interrupted. I stopped in mid-sentence and stared at him in disbelief. My outburst didn’t seem to have bothered him at all. “That is unless you would rather continue ranting about something neither of us can do anything about right now.”
“Breakfast sounds good,” I mumbled. I turned toward the cafeteria and he followed. The cafeteria worker saw me coming and mixed up a protein shake and a bowl of oatmeal. She then took Abedeji’s order, which consisted of eggs, bacon, sausage, and the list went on and on. I headed for a table near the center of the cafeteria, but Abedeji asked if we could sit somewhere a bit more secluded. Even though I found it strange, I headed to a row of high-backed booths in the corner of the cafeteria.
“Is this okay?” He shook his head yes. As he sat down, he put his tray of food in front of me. “What are you doing?” He flashed me a gorgeous smile.
“They didn’t even give you a chance to order, and I can tell you’d rather have something like this.”
“How do you know this isn’t what I order every day?”
“Am I right?” I nodded. This guy was good.
“I can’t eat your breakfast. You need to eat something.” I pushed the tray toward him. He pushed it back.
“I already ate.” I couldn’t help but be suspicious of him. He wasn’t acting like a normal bodyguard, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing if for the right reasons. Most bodyguards were quiet and reserved. They never flirted and rarely smiled while on the job.
Download this book for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-27 show above.)