Untouched tgitb-2 Read online

  “I see.” Her words were soft, contemplative. “Is he still alive, like us? Or our mother?”

  Aleksandr seemed to shudder. “Mother died giving birth to me. Father…” He hesitated, looked away, then turned his face back to her but the joy was gone. “Father died on the same day I thought you did.”

  There was a cold silence, broken only by the howl of the wind around us. When Kat spoke, it was with more chill than the tempest around us. “Did you…kill him too?”

  I cringed and waited for Aleksandr to respond. He did, but not as I expected. “I did,” he said with a glint of pride. “He was not kind to you, Klementina, nor me. He…tortured us. You would come to me, to help salve my wounds after he beat me. And I would console you, after…” He broke off, unable to finish his sentence. “You remember nothing?”

  Kat licked her lips and looked to Scott for reassurance. “Before the lab, I can’t really remember anything concrete. I remember a light. I remember…burning. Some other things…a baby crying. But it all seems very far off, so long ago.”

  “But not what he…” Aleksandr shuddered, emotions tearing through the formerly seamless mask of his face. “Not the nights, not…what he did…?”

  “I don’t—” Kat looked away, to Scott, then to me, then stopped mid-sentence and screamed, but it was too late.

  I didn’t see the fist come at me, didn’t sense it coming in all the air rushing past us on top of the tower and by the time I reacted to Kat’s warning, it was too late. I felt my legs buckle as the fist hit the side of my head and I went flying, smashing into the metal ducting that ran across the roof. It collapsed on impact with my shoulders and back and I came to rest, blood dripping down the side of my head to my cheek. I blinked, trying to assess the damage. It hurt. A lot.

  I tried to rise to my feet but before I could move, he was on me, hand around my neck, suffocating me. David Henderschott, his armor now all black, clutched me in his metal-clad hand, his cold mask blacked even to the eyeholes, not a trace of remorse or humanity visible as I started to pass out.

  Chapter 26

  A fireball exploded behind Henderschott, causing him to stagger and drop me. I would have been thankful, but one of his armored feet caught me as he stumbled and tread on my midsection. I felt pain in my guts like I hadn’t experienced since Wolfe stuck his finger in my belly and started ripping. I tensed my abdomen and heaved, knocking him off balance and sending him clattering to the ground. I clutched at my stomach, fighting for a breath and left with a perfect view of Kat, Scott and Gavrikov.

  “She’s not coming with you,” Scott said, holding his hand out, palm facing Gavrikov, who had already burst into flames.

  “Do not stand in my way,” Aleksandr said, that lifeless rumble in his voice again, the guttural horror that he sounded like when he was an inferno. His hands were out, one beckoning to Kat, the fire put out of it, the other pointed at Scott. “I will not warn you again.”

  From where I was, rolling in agony, cursing the day I left my house, it looked like Scott smiled. “Do you know what I am?” He seemed to be asking Gavrikov. “Ever heard of a Poseidon-type?”

  I didn’t have time to connect the dots before water rushed out of Scott’s extended hand, a pressurized force that knocked Gavrikov back thirty feet into a radio transmitter. I heard the impact; I compared it to the blow I’d taken when Henderschott hit me and thought myself the lucky one.

  I started to pull myself up, trying to ignore the pain as I hoped it would subside, but Henderschott was faster. He was on his feet and reached me as I got to one knee. His armor had been painted, all black, causing a bizarre contrast against the night sky, a shadow in the dark. He grasped at me and I lunged. My shoulder hurt as I caught him under the arm, knocking him off his feet with a tackle that I rolled out of. He landed on his back, once more looking like a turtle.

  I leaned against some ductwork as I tried to stand up straight. His foot had done some damage to my insides, of that I was certain. I grunted at him as he stood up. “First you were obsessed with Iron Man. Now what?” I stared at his black armor. “You a Darth Vader wannabe? Or just a big Johnny Cash fan?”

  He took a swing at me and I dodged, falling to my knees and rolling away. Not my preferred method of avoidance, but it worked. His fist caved in the ductwork I had been leaning on, burying his arm up to the elbow. His metal mask swiveled to look at me and I dodged his other hand, wrapping my arm around his neck, trying to get my upper arm between the metal plates to choke him out.

  It was a stupid move on my part. He brought his helmet down and pinned my wrist between his chestplate and the metal that protected his chin. I heard the bone break and I cried out as he grabbed me by the arm and tossed me through the air like I weighed nothing. For the few seconds I was aloft, it was like flying with Aleksandr again.

  I landed, skidding and bouncing until I hit a wall. My arm screamed at me where he’d broken it, and I was gritting my teeth. I caught a flash as Gavrikov flew nearby, a thick burst of fire shooting forth from his hands in a continuous stream like he was holding a flame thrower. I saw it meet a similar burst of water on the other side and saw Scott Byerly with a cocky smile on his face, pushing Gavrikov back while keeping Kat behind him. Gavrikov shifted directions and Byerly countered, a jet of water hitting Aleksandr across the chest, snuffing out the flames and revealing his bare chest beneath before it ignited again.

  Full Metal Jackass came hammering across the roof at a run, and I had only seconds to move out of the way. He clipped me with a clothesline that caught my good wrist and shoulder and flipped me. I landed on my back and all the breath rushed out of my lungs. I watched him lift a foot to stomp and I had the presence of mind to reach up and catch his foot, pushing and sending him teetering off balance as he fell again to his back. It was one of the only weaknesses I saw from him, the fact that it took him a minute or so to get up. Like a turtle.

  I got to my feet, clutching my injured wrist to my side and ran away from him. It wasn’t my best plan but I was hurt badly, and needed time to recover. Or formulate a strategy. Or hurl myself over the edge to end the aches and pains. Maybe the last one, actually.

  I slumped behind one of the outcroppings on the roof, trying to catch my breath and assess the damage, and remembered my last fight with Henderschott. It brought a little smile to my face because it had gone so much better than this one. And it was all predicated on the fact that in both fights when he sucker punched me, I ended up dancing to his tune, to my detriment. Then the question became how to get him to dance to my tune, how to beat him, get the Full Metal Jackass out of his armor. Or kill him. I looked out over the edge of the building and realized it was a long way down. One question was answered.

  I heard him behind me over the dull roar of the fight between Scott and Gavrikov, the weight of his footsteps causing the roof to tremble. He sounded like he was heading in the wrong direction, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I worked out how I could get him to the edge and fling his sorry metal ass over it. I hoped that would kill him; I thought it would. If it didn’t, I’d have to find something else, but as far as strategies went, it was the best I had with the little I had to work with.

  I peeked over the top of the little radio shack I was hiding behind and saw Henderschott moving parallel to me. With ease I got to my feet and stayed low, trying to creep up behind him. I had an idea, but it was based on stealth, on being able to sneak up and turn the momentum of the fight.

  Making my way around one of the ducts, I slid through the snow beneath to come out a little behind him. I kept low, almost walking hunched over, creeping up behind the armored man. I took a last step and started to reach up. I planned to grab him by the helmet, drag him down with a horse-collar tackle, pull him to the edge of the roof and send him flying. I didn’t want to kill him, but I had a feeling it was down to him or me, and I wanted to live. Really, truly, down to my bones, I wanted to.

  My last step led me to a small patch of ice that wasn’t visib
le. My boot found it and I went down with a loud cry as the landing jarred my already hurt innards. Henderschott swiveled and was on me before I could recover, one hand on my neck and the other on my broken wrist, pinning me against the rooftop. He wrenched hard on my hand, drawing a scream of pain from me, then another. I hit him with my free hand, right on the head, doing no damage to him but causing him to yank my wrist so hard my vision blurred and I started to black out.

  I thought I was crying but I couldn’t tell through the pain. All I could feel was the anguish from the damage he’d already done and the screaming of the nerves through my forearm as he bent it back. A thrumming sound in the back of my consciousness made its way through my ears, the blood rushing and making a connection for me.

  The cable company truck I’d seen at the Directorate and outside the tower were the same. He’d followed us. Somehow he’d found the Directorate and watched. Sure, Scott nearly ran him over, but he’d recovered and managed to tail us all the way here, follow us up the elevator and show up when we least needed him to.

  I saw Gavrikov and Scott, still facing off in the distance. I complimented myself on my knowledge of how Aleksandr would react; he hadn’t exploded yet. Then I felt the squeeze of Henderschott’s iron grip on my neck and wrist again and I realized that was of little consolation as he hauled me into the air and dangled my feet over the edge of the tower. I felt the brush of the freezing wind as it rushed past my face and then felt the push as his hand let go and I started to drop.

  Chapter 27

  My broken arm reached full extension and his grip on my wrist stopped me. I screamed again, the surge of pain down my arm dragging cries from my lips. The sound of blood in my ears had gotten worse, so bad that I could tell that Henderschott was talking to me, but I couldn’t tell what he was saying, only hearing fragments. “Submit…do not resist…”

  I twisted and dangled, hanging by my broken wrist and staring fifty-something floors down to the plaza below where we had entered, the atrium lit up like a light with spiderwebs of darkness running through it. There were no clouds for the first time I could remember since leaving my house, and the first strains of light on the horizon told me it was close to sun up. The noise in my ears was getting worse, and finally I realized that it wasn’t the blood rushing through them, or the wind.

  A Black Hawk helicopter dropped into view from above. Henderschott looked up and froze, almost as if he were shocked at its appearance. I could see the members of M-Squad inside, the door was open and someone wearing a tactical vest was hanging out as it swooped low over the rooftop. It didn’t slow down and I saw the person jump out about ten feet above the roof as the helicopter started to pull up and gain altitude. I saw an M16 with an underslung grenade launcher go skittering as they landed rather badly.

  Henderschott dragged me in from the edge and tossed me to the ground, then placed his boot on my chest. I felt the pressure of his weight lean onto me and I couldn’t breathe. “Don’t…go…anywhere.” His words came out in low gutturals but I understood every one of them.

  “Why…would I go anywhere?” I put my good hand on his foot. “I like this…spot,” I said, fighting for breath. “It’s you who…needs to move!” I lashed out at the last, rocking my hips and pushing my legs up so my heels hit him in the chest, sending him teetering off balance. I pulled in my leg again and then kicked him, knocking his feet out from underneath and sending him toppling.

  I stood, ignoring the fire in my side. “You know,” I said, “I used to spend hours encased in metal too. Probably wasn’t as pleasant as how you’re doing it.” I tried to grab him by the leg but got a metal boot to the chest for my troubles. If possible, the already painful injury to my stomach multiplied and moved north. I suspected he had broken some ribs. I curled up into a little ball and tried to catch my breath, then attempted to force myself to stand. I watched as Henderschott got to his feet and I backed away from him, taking one hobbling step at a time.

  “Hey!” The shout caught my attention, forcing me to look back and see Zack, holding the M16 with the barrel slightly elevated, pointed at Henderschott. I covered my ears and dived to the ground as I watched Henderschott’s metal head tilt in confusion (or maybe amusement) at the sight of Zack. He didn’t stay confused (or amused or whatever) for long. A low, whumping noise cut across the roof as the grenade launcher on the bottom of Zack’s weapon fired and it caught Henderschott right in the armored chest and exploded, sending him backward, arms pinwheeling, over the edge of the building.

  I got to my feet and lurched over to Zack, still holding my chest and side. “Big strong man, come to save me,” I said, cringing from the pain.

  “You looked like you needed some help.” He pointed his gun in the air.

  “He sucker punched me,” I said. “Again.”

  “Yeah?” He looked at me with a little acrimony. “Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t totally disregarded what Old Man Winter told you—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said, mocking. “I don’t see the city leveled, so don’t count my strategy out yet.”

  “What was your strategy again?” He looked at me. “Get pummeled by the man in black while Scotty and Kat tried to avoid getting toasted?”

  “You should talk.” I took a deep breath and cringed at the pain from it. “If I’d had a helicopter, none of this would have happened. That armored assclown followed us from outside the campus.” I looked back at the helicopter, which was swinging around for another pass. “Besides, what was your strategy?”

  “Parks is up there with a sniper rifle,” he said, pointing to the Black Hawk. “Clary’s jumping down on their next pass, but if we get even a sign that Gavrikov means to explode, Parks will drop him.”

  “Why didn’t Clary jump the first time?” I looked at him. “You know, with you?”

  He looked a little hesitant, almost embarrassed. “I uh…I wasn’t supposed to.”

  “You fell out?” I tried to hide my amusement.

  “I jumped out,” he said, “to save you. Clary was tasked to Gavrikov, he wouldn’t have helped you in time, so I forced the issue. The crosswinds are a real bitch up here, though, and it wasn’t the best moment to jump. Bastian is having a hell of a time keeping the chopper steady.”

  “Makes me wonder how Parks is gonna pull off his shot,” I said, starting to limp toward the other side of the roof. I could see Gavrikov and Scott still going at each other, the flame versus the water.

  “He’ll pull it off,” Zack said. “But honestly, we don’t really need him to.” He pulled his gun up and stared down the sights. “I can riddle him with holes if we get closer.”

  The helicopter swooped overhead and Clary appeared at the door. It looked like Bastian was trying to keep it level but there was serious chop and the helicopter was swaying in the wind. I watched Clyde yell out something that sounded like “Geronimo!” and jump, his skin turning to darkened steel on the fall. He was aimed perfectly, and hit the roof only a few feet to Gavrikov’s left, causing the flaming man to look up from his battle with Byerly. I watched Clary land—

  And disappear, falling through the roof. I turned to Zack. “Boy, am I glad we amateurs left this crack mission in the hands of you professionals. Marvelous work.”

  He shot me a pained look. “I’m sorry, I gotta—”

  “Go,” I said. “Do what you have to in order to stop him.” I started to say more but a black metal glove hit Zack across the back and he went flying, his gun skittering off the roof, his body stopping just before the edge. I wheeled and threw myself back in time to dodge Henderschott’s next assault. “Next time we throw you over I suppose I’ll have to make sure you really fall.” He swung at me again and I started to panic; I couldn’t evade him like this forever.

  Something stirred inside me as the fear took over. He had beaten and pummeled me, hurt me again in a way I would never get used to. Whatever it was came from deep inside, was primal, destructive, awakened by my purest survival drive. It was fami
liar, a feeling and a consciousness that had been suppressed by the drugs that I hadn’t taken in…I glanced at the lightening sky…over 24 hours.

  “You’ve got more lives than a cat, Henderschott.” I shouted as I dodged another attack. The pain started to fade and it felt like it had in the cafeteria when I had attacked Scott; I was there, but parts of me were starting to respond to someone else’s command. I vaulted over him, the pain in my side masked from my feeling it, and I grabbed hold of him before he could turn to face me, somehow gripping him with both hands. This was going to hurt tomorrow. A voice, deep and sinister, something absolutely nothing like my own, filled my ears with a hissing, lustful sound. “But not as many as Wolfe.”

  My good hand grabbed at his helmet and pulled, ripping at it with a strength far beyond my own. I twisted, dragging him off his feet, tearing at the metal surrounding his head, knowing it was attached to his skin and ripping as hard as I could. I could hear him screaming inside his suit and his hands reached up for me but I fended them off, turning him over, stretching out of their reach even as he hammered at my wrists and I ignored it, blind to any sort of pain at all.

  With a last, wrenching tear the helmet came off, filling the world with Henderschott’s scream. His face dripped blood as the helmet came off and my hands brought it down across the back of his head. I heard a sickening crunch of metal on bone. Henderschott went limp, but I wasn’t the one who brought the helmet down again and again. My hands did it while I watched, dumbstruck, his head turning to little fragments of flesh and bone before my eyes.

  “Wolfe,” I said, whispering, “enough.” But he was in control and I had none. My hands grasped Henderschott by the remains of his head and dragged him across the roof to the edge. I lifted him up in one hand, his eyes dead and rolling, but they found mine for a second and the awful, hissing voice of Wolfe came back. “Wolfe should have done this a long time ago, but Wolfe showed you mercy. Now there is only the mercy of gravity.”