The Girl in the Box 02 - Untouched Read online

I felt a searing pain in my skull, one that dropped me to my knees. With my eyes almost squinted shut, I could only see blurry shapes in the mirror; one was flesh-toned, on its knees, the other was behind me, stalking back and forth—

  I turned, but there was no one there. I fell back on my haunches, felt the cold linoleum of the bathroom floor against my backside, and lay down, closing my eyes and putting a hand over my throbbing head. “You’re such a bastard,” I said. “Why don’t you tell me what you know about my mother?”

  I stared at the ceiling, waiting to see if Wolfe would reply. He didn’t.

  Mom had gone missing about a week before the Directorate had ousted me from my house. Everyone here denied knowing anything about her disappearance. Wolfe knew something, I suspected, but in the last day or so of sharing skull space with me, he’d been cagey.

  He was there, I could feel him, skulking in my brain. The headache was his doing. Whenever he had a burst of strong emotion, I felt its effects. Yesterday, when I was leaving the medical unit, a stay caused by my last fight with Wolfe, Ariadne had offered me different options of where I could stay on the Directorate campus.

  “We have a variety of dorm rooms,” she said, talking in a quiet voice, as though I were too brittle to be exposed to words spoken at normal volume. “Or, if you would feel safer, you could stay in the secure room in the Headquarters basement—”

  “How about the dorm room I stayed in before?” I asked her, not sure where the question came from.

  “The one where Wolfe...attacked you?” She took a step back, her eyes wide. “I assumed that there would be bad memories associated with...that place.”

  I had felt a little thrill run through me, a surge of pleasure at the memory of what he’d done to me there. It wasn’t my feeling, which would have been closer to nausea, but it was strong enough to overwhelm my own emotions. “Yeah,” I said. “I’ll stay there.”

  Ariadne didn’t have the most expressive face; it was reserved most of the time, and her red hair was always the only splash of color in her drab attire. Still, on this occasion, she had emotion—concern. For me.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “He’s dead. Nothing to fear from him now.”

  Oh, but there is. I ignored him.

  Ariadne’s fashion sense was prosaic; it was as if the dull and dreary winter weather was her inspiration. Wolfe threw out an uncharitable and crass thought about what he’d do to liven up her look and I ignored it even though it caused a vein in my eye to pulse. She didn’t argue with me anymore after that, just let me go to my room—to rest, I told her. I didn’t, though, not the rest of that day. Not until well after nightfall, and then I was plagued by the nightmares that had caused me to wake in a sweat.

  The linoleum on the floor was causing my body to ache, and I felt a throbbing in my head. I sat up, felt the pain Wolfe had inflicted fade, and grabbed hold of the counter, pulling up to my feet. I stared once more into the mirror, looking at myself, my face, my eyes. There were bags underneath them; I looked tired.

  I turned out the bathroom light and walked back out into the room, heading to the closet. The feeling that Wolfe had been watching me while I was nude left me unsettled; I dressed in silence, slipping on a long-sleeved sweatshirt and jeans.

  The air was warm enough; I could feel an unseen heater fighting against the chill of the winter outside. The window was one-way, Ariadne had told me, a type of special glass that was tinted so that whatever happened inside could not be seen from outside, even if the lights were on. I had walked around the dormitory building and couldn’t see anything but my own reflection, even at night, when I knew there were lights on inside.

  I walked to the window with confidence that I was unseen. The ground was covered in snow, at least a foot deep if not more; the only disruption to its smooth, unblemished surface was the place a few hundred feet away where a path had been cut with a snow blower so people could walk and some footprints that were not fresh—mine. Far in the distance lurked a pine forest, the green needles blending with the black of night.

  The sky seemed lighter than I remembered it being a few minutes ago. I stared out and saw a flat spot next to the headquarters building with heavy lights sticking up out of the snow around it, reminding me of a baseball game I’d seen on TV that was played at night.

  I watched, looking through the dark, and saw figures standing on the concrete—the red hair of Ariadne was visible even at this distance. Old Man Winter was with her, towering above her small frame, and it looked like the wind was swirling snow around his legs.

  Old Man Winter was the boss of the Directorate. Ridiculously tall, he looked like he was in his seventies, and his face looked as though it had been carved out of rock that had been exposed to the elements for too long. His eyes were the most piercing blue you could imagine, though even I couldn’t see them at this distance. Standing next to him was a shorter man, a fatter one, and I knew it was Kurt Hannegan.

  Kurt and I had a history of antipathy. He’d been the one that had helped me deliver myself to Wolfe, unbeknownst to Old Man Winter and Ariadne. Kurt and I had no love lost, not since our first encounter when he broke into my house and I pummeled him. If that wasn’t enough, since I arrived at the Directorate I had caused the deaths of quite a few of his fellow human agents. None of them were intentional but I doubt it mattered to him; he didn’t like me before that, and it wasn’t the sort of thing that was going to put me on his good side.

  The three of them stood to one side of the lighted area. The wind was blowing hard, and with the exception of Old Man Winter, they were wearing heavy coats. I pressed a hand against the glass and felt the chill seep through; the temperature outside had to be below zero. Two more figures joined them, one from the Headquarters building, the other cutting across the snow from in the distance. Based on the shuffle of the steps, I knew that one was Dr. Ron Sessions, the lab geek that the Directorate kept on hand. The other was shorter, her frame undeniably female, dark hair whipping in the wind. I suspected it was Dr. Perugini, the woman who ran the medical unit and had treated me several times since I arrived. When she turned, I caught a glimpse of her chiseled features.

  Once Sessions joined them, the five of them stood to one side of the patch. I watched, waiting for something to happen. Ariadne appeared to be speaking to Sessions and Perugini while Old Man Winter watched, his mouth unmoving, and Kurt stood to the side, stamping his feet to ward off the cold. I could feel Wolfe stirring in my brain, wondering what they were up to. His thoughts matched mine, but I was trying to mask my thoughts from him. I had my doubts that it was working.

  What are they waiting for, little doll?

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Why am I bothering to answer your sick ass?”

  Hard to resist the Wolfe, isn’t it?

  “Don’t think that just because you’re in my head that you have any idea what I think.” There was a flicker of movement outside, and Wolfe didn’t bother answering.

  A helicopter descended. I recognized the type, my photographic memory reconciling what I was seeing with what I had seen in movies. It was a Black Hawk, and I could see the doors open as they descended. I saw a figure emerge, hanging out the door while waiting for the helicopter to touch down, a figure that was shorter than Old Man Winter by a lot. It was all I needed to see, and I had grabbed my coat and was slinging it on as I ran out the door.

  Zack had returned.

  Chapter 2

  I barely remembered to put my boots on before I was off and running. On the way out of the dormitory building I felt the cold air slap me in the face, but I didn’t care.

  Little doll seems very happy to see the flimsy agent. Wolfe wonders if she knows how useless the little man is to her, he breaks so easy, he would burn if she touched him...

  “Shut up,” I said as my feet found the path and I loped along, barely keeping myself from dropping to all fours the way Wolfe’s instincts were compelling me to. “I’m not a dog,” I snapped to the voice in my head. �
��I can’t run on my hands and feet the way you can—could.”

  But it would be so good to see you on hands and knees again... A wave of revulsion washed over me and I tried to ignore it as I cut through the wintery air. Why is this little man so important to make you run out in the middle of the night?

  “He’s not...” I stopped talking when I realized I was giving the psycho in my head more fodder for taunting me. Besides, why was I running to see Zack? When last we had parted, it had been after he had extracted a promise from me to not go after Wolfe, a promise I had broken. Afterward, I had spent some time examining my thinking behind that promise and found it lacking; I believed I made it because Zack was hot. Tall, with tousled hair, brown eyes and in amazing shape. Downside: I suspected he was spying on me for Old Man Winter and Ariadne.

  At that moment, I didn’t care. Of all the people I had met since leaving my house, Zack was the one I felt most connected to. After he left, things around the Directorate got much worse and—I hated to admit it—I missed having someone to talk to who was close to my own age. It’s not like I had a ton of time to get used to it before he left, but still...I missed him. I felt a tingle of amusement that I knew came from Wolfe, and wished, not for the first time, that I could mentally slap the hell out of him.

  I covered the ground between the dorm and the helipad quickly, arriving just after the helicopter set down. None of the observers noticed me as I slipped up behind them and I felt a thrill of predatory success as I stared at their backs and realized I could kill every last one of them.

  I would have been disturbed by that, but Wolfe’s thoughts were bleeding into mine with such regularity that unless he “spoke” in my head, I couldn’t be sure whether it genuinely came from me.

  I lurked behind them, and saw Ariadne say something to Dr. Perugini that caused Old Man Winter to look back at them both. “He was stable for transit,” Ariadne said, then the rotors cut out her next words before I caught a few more, “…amazed they were able to catch him, really.” Old Man Winter looked past Ariadne and noticed me. He stared, his eyes into mine, before nodding in acknowledgment. He spoke, something low, but loud enough that those around him heard it and looked, each of them finding me in turn.

  I moved forward to join them, figuring that lurking in the shadows was a pointless game. I saw Zack, dressed in a paramilitary uniform, olive green overalls with a tactical vest, a submachine gun slung under his arm, and a headset covering his ears. He stepped down and tossed the headset back into the chopper. I could see him saying something to the figures inside.

  He turned and strode across the pad to Old Man Winter. I half-expected him to salute, as though I were watching a war movie, but he leaned in and whispered something to his boss. While he did so, others were stepping out of the Black Hawk, four of them, in quick fashion. M-Squad, I figured.

  A stir of interest from Wolfe kept me watching them rather than Zack. The first one off the chopper was a man. He had a jaw that looked like it had been carved from an iron bar. It extended down, giving him the look of someone who perpetually stuck his chin out. His skin was dark, his hair black and short, military-style, stubble on the sides and just a patch of black on top. I couldn’t tell what color eyes he had because of the dark, but they were moving fast and they were focused. They found me in the dark, surveyed me—not in the dirty way Wolfe had, but as a potential opponent.

  The next off the Black Hawk was a woman. Her hair was short, blond, cropped in one of those boyish, pixie styles of someone who has no time and no interest in impressing anyone with it. Her facial structure was pronounced, Nordic, but her skin was tanned. She saw me, too, and watched me for long enough to do an assessment of her own. She was so severe, I wondered if she ever smiled.

  The third off the chopper was a man with long, gray hair and a beard that matched it. The rotor blades stirred his silver locks, blowing them into his eyes, but it didn’t seem to distract him. He gave me the same once-over as the others and halted by the door to the chopper.

  The last guy off surprised me. I’m not going to mince words: he was fat. Not the size of a house or anything, but he was a big boy. The others were muscular, but his belly hung out under his fatigues. He was laughing about something as his feet hit the ground, but none of his teammates were laughing with him. His grin was not a happy one; for some reason I got a little dash of an unsettling feeling from looking at him.

  He reached into the chopper and pulled something out, slinging it over his shoulder to carry. It was a tube, about six feet long, a couple feet wide and a foot deep. It reminded me of an oversized coffin at first glance.

  Actually, it reminded me of the box my mother used to put me in, but smaller and more compact.

  The big guy joined his comrades and the four of them walked across the helipad as the Black Hawk spun up the rotors and lifted back into the air. I turned my attention to Old Man Winter, who had finished his conversation with Zack.

  Zack moved to talk to Kurt. The two of them were partners the day they came to collect me from my house. I didn’t know if they still worked together, because they’d had something of a falling out after Kurt tried to hit me at one point. I wasn’t sure if Zack knew what had happened since then, but I doubt he’d be excited to know that his partner had driven me to an encounter with Wolfe.

  I caught a subtle look as he was talking to Kurt. He held eye contact for just a second longer than he had to, and I saw a smile.

  Ariadne broke away from the crowd and walked over to me. “You should be sleeping,” she said, resting a careful, gloved hand on my shoulder.

  “Am I not allowed to be here?” My words came out more bitter than I had intended. I thought that was because of Wolfe’s influence, but given my past history with Ariadne, there was a strong possibility that it was all me.

  “No,” she said, remaining cool in spite of my acrid tone, “I just meant that I assumed you would be resting.”

  “I heal fast.” I looked past her, trying to catch Zack’s eye again. “I’ve rested enough, anyway.” That was more defensive.

  “I heard you broke into the cafeteria after it closed and took some food.” She watched for my reaction.

  I froze, trying to keep my eyes from widening. Had I done that? I managed to speak after a short pause that I hoped she attributed to my guilt at being found out. “It’s better for all involved if I don’t have to go to the cafeteria when I don’t want to. Safer, really. It’s like a public service.” With the flight of the Black Hawk, things had gotten quieter on the helipad. “I’m surprised you don’t have a helipad on the roof of Headquarters.” I was desperate to change the subject by that point.

  “We do.” Ariadne crossed her arms and looked back at M-Squad. “But it’ll be easier for Clary to carry his...cargo...” She nodded to the burden that the fat guy was carrying over his shoulder, “...to the science labs without having to navigate an elevator or stairwell.”

  “Big guy like that?” I inclined my head toward the coffin. “He looks like he can carry a lead casket for a ways.” I stared at the object, but he had it inclined so that I couldn’t see anything but the bottom and sides. I was beyond curious about what it contained; I wondered if it was the mysterious reason why M-Squad had been in South America for so long.

  “I’m sure he can. But it’s delicate, and it would be best if it were undamaged.” She smiled, a tight, insincere one that told me worlds about how much of my question she was avoiding answering.

  “Hey.” Zack appeared in front of me, Kurt a few steps behind him.

  “Hey,” I said, feeling like the single greatest idiot in the world for repeating his greeting back to him. Genius level IQ, and I was still reduced to this by a boy. FML. (Yes, I know what it means.)

  “I heard you broke your promise.” He didn’t come off as accusatory, which surprised me, and yet, didn’t. If he was spying on me, getting into an argument seemed counterproductive. “But I also heard you killed Wolfe, so...good job.” On the other hand, ma
ybe he was just happy that Wolfe was dead. I knew I was.

  If I was dead, I wouldn’t be talking to you.

  Shut up, I thought with all my might. I must have grimaced while thinking it, because Zack raised an eyebrow. “Yeah...I’m sorry. I just couldn’t wait for you guys to get back.” I looked away from him.

  “Damn shame you killed Wolfe,” the fat guy from M-Squad said, loud enough that it told me he’d been eavesdropping. I turned to find him leering at me; well, not so much me as my body; his eyes were looking below the equator and moving up slowly. “I was looking forward to tangling with him. But if he can get himself killed by a little girl, “ he said with a laugh that sounded like a bark, “ I guess he wasn’t so tough, was he?”

  “You’re a moron, Clary,” said the leader, the first guy off the helicopter from M-Squad. “You’re just lucky most people judge by appearances, like you do, and write your fat ass off or you’d be dead ten times over.”

  “You think I’m fat?” One of Clary’s eyes had squinted, drawing his puffy cheek up his face and causing it to wrinkle. “This is three hundred and twenty pounds of ripped steel.” He waved a hand over his body. “And the ladies love it.”

  “The next lady to love your body will be the first, I’d wager.” I said it before I knew I had, and heard the snickers from M-Squad, Dr. Perugini and Zack. Even Kurt seemed amused by my barb. The old guy in M-Squad let a low, rolling guffaw of purest amusement. “Unless you’re resorting to picking up lovers from the graveyard,” I said, pointing at the object on his shoulder, “in which case they’re not loving you so much as—”

  Clary turned a bright red and I watched him clutch the coffin a little tighter, and he let out a loud grunt. “I’m not gonna sit here and be insulted by some tweener punkass bitch.”

  “Yeah, you’ve got important things to do,” the older guy spoke up. “You were talking about your damned motorcycle the whole time we were gone. You gonna go ride your ‘phat hog’?”