3
Moving briskly down the deserted halls of Welling and St. Aire, Davey couldn’t remember a time in her adult life when she had ever been so anxious. It killed her to be walking when she would have rather run to Hogan’s classroom, snatched him from his desk, and taken him to safety—to some place far away from Welling and St. Aire and the reach of a madman. But Ethan had insisted on this snail’s pace, not wanting to draw undue attention to themselves until it was necessary.
Her mind was racing, trying to understand what was happening—how a man who she’d watched die could still be a threat. Splicing together a rudimentary form of alchemy with modern technology in order to tether a human soul to a machine was one thing. Figuring out how to cheat death entirely was another. From Davey’s understanding, Ethan’s current form was permanent. Incredibly fast, strong, and agile, the synthetic body he essentially possessed was designed by Global Cures to completely mimic the outer appearance—and all biological functions—of an adult human male. Whereas the external skin of the automaton could be altered so as to lend Ethan varying outward appearances, his body was virtually indestructible. But if the transmutation circle—the binding seal tattooed on Ethan’s left shoulder—was ever heavily damaged or erased, then Ethan’s consciousness would cease to exist.
Such was obviously not the case with Agent Drekker. Drekker had been completely human—not a machine controlled by a human consciousness. Davey had watched some very organic grey matter and blood splatter against the interior of her car. Nonetheless, Ethan claimed Drekker was alive and would soon “possess another vessel.” It defied the laws of science. The impossible had somehow become possible.
And what does this have to do with Hogan? What could a fifteen-year-old have that an agent with such an incredible and frightening ability would want?
Reaching the main faculty offices, Davey stopped to address the secretary. “I need to speak with Headmaster Bannister,” she said. “It’s urgent.”
The secretary appeared to be barely older than Davey. Her perfectly polished, hot rod red nails clicked loudly across the desktop keyboard as she responded without looking up. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but—”
“Take a seat,” the secretary said curtly. “The headmaster is in a meeting for the next half hour, but I will see if she’s available afterwards. No guarantees though,” she added rudely.
Davey shook her head. “This can’t wait. I have to see my brother.”
The secretary stopped typing. Wearing an expression of absolute boredom, she propped both elbows on the desk and rested her chin in the palm of one hand. “It’s the middle of second block, honey. It’s against policy to interrupt classes.”
Forcing a long exhale through her teeth, Davey pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s why I need to speak to the headmaster.”
Unmoved, the secretary simply blinked. “She’s in a meeting.”
Seeing red, Davey leaned over the woman’s desk, but then Ethan—who had been quiet until then—stepped forward and tossed an open leather case containing some very official looking credentials onto the desk. “Special Agent Ethan Remington. What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Uh, Cathy,” she stammered.
“Uh Cathy,” he repeated, and Davey couldn’t tell if he was being an asshole or if he really thought that was her name. “You will either release Hogan Little into his sister’s custody or face charges for obstruction of justice.”
Pursing her lips into a thin line, Cathy blushed. “Give me just a moment, and I will get Hogan’s classroom information for you.”
A five minute powerwalk later, Davey and Ethan were standing next to a taupe-colored door with a single rectangular window cut out of its center. She could see Hogan on the other side, sitting in the center row near the back, maybe taking notes, but more likely doodling in his notebook. The class was New World Literature, after all.
Under the threat of arrest, Cathy’s entire disposition had changed for the better. Turning to Davey, the secretary smiled sweetly. “If you would please wait here, I’ll get your brother for you.”
Davey nodded. “Thank you.”
Knocking twice, Cathy entered the classroom and closed the door behind her but could be seen through the glass as she spoke with Hogan’s teacher. After a brief exchange, he began to gather his things and then left the classroom with Cathy following closely behind.
“Is there anything else I can assist you with Special Agent Remington?” she asked after they had reached the hallway.
He answered in a clipped tone, barely sparing her a glance. “No. That will be all.” Ethan had fully withdrawn into security mode and kept constantly checking their surroundings.
Accepting her dismissal, Cathy made an awkward little bow and departed. Meanwhile, Hogan looked from Davey to Ethan and back. The bewilderment on his face intensified when Davey pulled him into a tight hug. Emotions all over the place, she hadn’t felt this protective in a long time.
“What’s going on?” Hogan asked with some hesitation. “I have practice today, so you’re not supposed pick me up until seven. And who’s this?”
“Hogan, this is Ethan,” Davey replied, deciding it was much easier to focus on his second question.
“Ethan,” he repeated, looking extremely confused now. “Why does he look so different?”
It was a great question, considering that the Ethan who Hogan knew from five years ago had blue eyes, jet-black hair, and a jaw line most models would have envied. Her brother had been a terrified little boy when he’d first met Ethan in his current form. Both encounters had been brief, so it was no surprise that Hogan didn’t recall this original version. Hell, he didn’t even know there were multiple versions of Ethan to begin with because Davey had intentionally kept him in the dark about Ethan’s true design. It had been hard enough explaining the concept of death to a five-year-old and why Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t be coming back. Throwing in the story of a guy who had died and then returned from the afterlife to possess the body of a machine that could function exactly like a human being would have exponentially complicated that conversation.
“Uh,” Davey stammered. Hogan was older, but now was really not the time for a session of life-changing honesty. “He’s undercover,” she eventually answered, hoping to appeal to the kid who once dreamed of being a superhero without tipping off the precocious teenager who boasted shrewdness beyond his years.
Hogan nodded. “Cool.”
Ethan called to them from over his shoulder. “We need to move,” he said.
“Right.” Relief short-lived, Davey grabbed her brother’s hand and began following Ethan’s long and purposeful strides.
“So, what’s going on?” Hogan asked again.
She squeezed his hand. “I’ll explain everything later, kiddo. Right now, we need to do exactly as Ethan says because he’s here to help us.”
“Okay, Davey.”
Hogan was putting on a façade of bravery, but Davey could tell he was worried. The way his eyes stretched a little too wide and the white-knuckled grip on the shoulder strap of his backpack were sure signs he knew something big was amiss.
She squeezed his hand again. “It’s going to be okay.”
The main entrance was just up ahead. At the end of this corridor, they only had to make a right and then walk another fifty feet or so to exit the building to where Ethan’s unmarked patrol car was waiting. After getting her brother to safety, Davey could then focus on making Ethan remember who she was, because there was no way she could let him leave again without a fight.
As they walked, Davey noticed several speakers mounted throughout the hallways, about seven feet from the floor. She guessed the devices were part of a PA system. Confirming her suspicions, they were about thirty seconds from exiting the school when a loud beep sounded from overhead, followed by a burst of static. After the crackled feedback ended, a male voice spoke over the intercom.
“Ethan Remington, we meet again,” he said in a tone that was somehow cheerful and yet full of malice.
“Keep walking,” Ethan ordered.
The man continued speaking. “No doubt you are attempting to remove my prize from these premises, but I have someone here with me who is going to make sure that doesn’t happen.” A rustle of movement flowed through the speaker, accompanied by a whimper. Then the man and his discordant tone returned. “Sweetheart, tell Mr. Remington your name. Speak into the mic please. We need to be sure he can hear you.”
“S-summer Prince,” a woman answered in a frightened whisper.
Hogan stopped abruptly. “Davey, that’s my biology teacher,” he said, looking quite distressed.
“Summer,” the man repeated. “What a lovely name…a lovely name for a lovely woman. Thank you for your help in this most important matter, Summer Prince.”
“No, God,” the woman sobbed. “Please. Don’t—”
A gunshot rang out, exploding through the speakers, ending Summer’s frantic plea. A chorus of screams seeped through the walls as students and faculty reacted in shock. Horrified, Davey wasn’t sure she believed it. Next to her, Hogan started to shake.
“Ethan Remington,” the man said almost cheerily. “We now have the first casualty because of your interference. Give me what I want, and no one else has to die. You have twenty minutes.”
Swearing, Ethan grabbed Hogan by the backpack and began ushering him toward the exit. “Keep up, Ms. Little. We have to go.”
“Wait,” Davey yelled and ran to catch up. “We have to help them.”
Ethan’s face lacked all emotion as he dragged a dazed Hogan across the faded asphalt of the parking lot. When Hogan stumbled and briefly lost his footing, Ethan simply carried him, letting Hogan dangle by the straps of his backpack until he managed to walk again.
“Ethan!” Davey screamed.
“Stop right there!” a second voice commanded.
Davey froze. Already next to his patrol car, Ethan kept a firm grip on Hogan but also didn’t move.
“Turn around slowly.”
She watched Ethan comply, heart pounding as she wondered if it were Drekker giving the orders. Hogan slowly raised his hands, looking as frightened as ever and Davey didn’t know what to think.
The commanding voice spoke again. “You too, miss. Turn around.”
Davey did as she instructed, raising her hands as slowly as possible as she did so. She was comforted to see that the voice actually belonged to a cop. Balding and a little too thick around the middle, he was one of the officers assigned to the school’s security detail. What was less thrilling, however, was the Glock he had aimed in her direction.
“How about you let the boy go, son?”
Davey wasn’t sure how many years had passed since the car accident that had taken Ethan’s human life at twenty-two, but in a synthetic body, time stood still. He still looked like the same rookie she had met over a decade ago on a dusty roadside back in high school.
Ethan shook his head ever so slightly. “I can’t do that, Sergeant Kendrick.”
Taken aback, the cop lowered his weapon a fraction. Davey understood his confusion. There was no way Ethan could have already known who he was. It also wasn’t humanly possible to read a name plate from so far a distance. “Then you and I are going to have a problem,” the officer said, recovering. He refocused his aim. “There’s been a report of shots fired, which means this campus is officially on lockdown. So, I can’t let you leave here. And I definitely can’t let you leave with these kids.”
Davey looked at her wristwatch—a graduation gift from Travis when he was still only Dr. Kane to her. Five minutes had elapsed since the cold-blooded murder of Hogan’s science teacher. If Drekker remained to true to his word, then another innocent person would die very soon.
“Ethan, please,” she whispered.
He studied her for a long moment. Davey steeled herself, meeting those impassive grey eyes for as long as they held hers and swore she saw a glimmer of recognition. Her heart lunged forward, grasping at the hope-shaped straws. But then the moment was gone, and Ethan’s gaze shifted back to the cop. He turned back into the cold, all-business operator once more. “I am Special Agent Ethan Remington, and I am assuming control of the scene. Sergeant Kendrick, get on your radio and locate the rest of the detail assigned to this school. Notify them that there is only one gunman. I assume you have already alerted dispatch to the situation?”
Sgt. Kendrick lowered his weapon. “Special Agent?” he repeated, wearing an expression of bafflement. His stare drifted to the badge attached to Ethan’s waistband. Given the severity of the circumstances, Davey wasn’t all that surprised the officer hadn’t noticed it sooner. She guessed recognition (or lack thereof) had to be a disadvantage for any plainclothes operative dealing with uniformed authorities. “With what department?” the sergeant asked.
“ATF.” Ethan released Hogan, but the look on his face dared him to move an inch. “Davey, come here. Stay with Hogan.”
Once she had done so, he turned back to the cop. “We don’t have much time. In less than fifteen minutes, someone else is going to die. I won’t be able to stop that, but with your help, maybe the casualties can be limited.”
Hesitating for a moment longer, Sgt. Kendrick nodded. “Okay. You’re in charge.” Speaking into his radio, he rapidly located two of the other three officers assigned to Hogan’s school. The third did not respond, and Davey got a bad feeling.
“Simmons is on the west campus, near the gymnasium, and has fifty kids holed up with him,” Sgt. Kendrick reported. “Barber is holding position in the cafeteria. Only a few staff members are there. I couldn’t reach Yates on the radio.”
Ethan frowned. “Tell everyone to stay put.” He turned to Hogan. “Where is the deceased’s classroom?”
Her brother stared at him blankly.
“Summer Prince,” Ethan clarified.
“On the second floor in the Garber building,” Hogan answered quickly.
“Tell your men the shooter is there and give Simmons the green light to evacuate his kids. You can’t see the gymnasium from the Garber building.”
“How do you know that?”
“I read the blueprints,” Ethan said, tapping the side of his head. “What’s the ETA on backup?”
Sgt. Kendrick checked his watch. “Five minutes.”
“Good enough. Wait here for the strike team. Instruct the commanding officer to put snipers on rooftops, positioning them on the west side of the Invictus building and the east side of White Knoll.”
“Got it.” Sgt. Kendrick did his own swift appraisal of the sites and turned back to Ethan. “It would be wise to put someone on top of Curtis Hall as well.”
Ethan nodded. “That’s where I’ll be.”
Sgt. Kendrick raised a wary brow. “You’re a trained sniper too?”
The faintest of smiles crossed Ethan’s lips. “No. I’m something better,” he said. Turning back to the unmarked squad car, he opened the trunk to reveal a small arsenal.
Swallowing a thick lump that had formed in her throat around the same time her foolhardy idea came to mind, Davey saw an opening and took it. “No one else has to die, Ethan. We can save whoever Drekker’s next victim will be.”
Pocketing an extra clip of ammo for his sidearm, Ethan then pulled a rectangular case that measured about two and a half feet in length from the trunk. “I can get into position and acquire a visual on Drekker. Any further action without proper backup would only risk getting more people hurt.”
Davey took a breath. “Unless I go in.”
Ethan shot down the suggestion instantly. “Absolutely not.”
He started to move past her, but Davey grabbed his arm. She may as well have slapped him from the stunned way he stopped in his tracks. Pushing aside any inferences into what that could mean, Davey rushed to make her point.
“Why did you come back, Ethan?” she asked, trapping him not just physically, but with her eyes as well, daring him to defy her with any more “not authorized” bullshit.
His gaze slid away from her and then back. He spoke, but the words came at a halting pace. “My primary directive is to ensure Hogan Little’s safety and deliver him to my superiors. Mason Drekker is the secondary target. I am to neutralize him if at all possible.”
Davey licked her lips. Her mouth had gone paper dry. She was close to reaching him. She could feel it.
“Why did you come for me first? You could have used that fancy badge and taken custody of Hogan from Welling and St. Aire without me.”
Frowning, Ethan stared at the pavement and was quiet. Finally answering, he shifted uneasily. “Because you were in danger, Davey Little.” Starting to say more he stopped. “And because I have to protect you,” he finished.
Okay, that’s something. Letting go of his arm, Davey slipped her fingers into his. Though cool, the touch of his skin warmed her like the fire in a glowing hearth. “A long time ago, a little boy’s life was in our hands. Together we won against much worse odds. Do you trust me, Ethan?”
“I—I…” So confident and indomitable until now, it was Ethan’s turn to stammer.
She hooked her pinky finger into the curve of his, and a faint buzzing sensation flowed from his skin to hers. “We can save them, Ethan.”
“Okay,” he agreed hoarsely and swallowed. “Go.”
Elated by a dizzying wave of fear and wonder, Davey turned to her little brother. “I’m going to need your clothes.”