Soulless (The Immortal Gene Trilogy Book 1) Read online

Page 11


  “Keep moving, drifter,” he ordered. Diesel lifted his gun and fired, throwing the doorman’s head backward as blood haloed the wall behind him. I tensed up as Diesel’s fingers hooked around my arm and pulled me into the entrance.

  “So much for keeping a low profile!”

  “No cops will come running to the mad pit, gun shot or not.” We had to duck our heads as we eased down the slope into an underground bunker hidden beneath the building. It reminded me of an old cubby house the kids used to hide out during air raids. It was dirty, filled with old couches and tables you would find at a tip yard and had little to no lighting. Four men stood up at our entrance and swung their guns into view. Diesel ushered me to the side out of sight.

  “You stay here and don’t say anything.”

  “What? Why?”

  His eyes hardened. “Seriously, shut your mouth or you’re going to hobble out of here with all your toes missing.”

  “Gees, fine. I won’t say anything.”

  Diesel walked on ahead as the four men promptly turned their bodies to face him. Each were tall, thick and had stashes of knives and ammunition under each armpit and across every notch in their belt.

  The one man that remained sitting shifted in his chair. “Well, well, well, you have a lot of nerve to come back here.” Diesel opened his arms as though in a welcoming gesture. The seated man then gestured to the others with a wave. “Put your weapons down. We have a VIP guest. Let me guess, I need to hire another door man?”

  “I’m not one for formalities,” Diesel sneered.

  “I can recognise that sadistic smile on any face. It’s been a long time. How was prison? Did the good doctor pass on my regards?”

  “Let’s not pretend we’re buddies, Cesar. I’m busy and you look like you’re one cupcake away from exploding.”

  I chanced a second look over. The man, who I assumed was Cesar, pushed himself up into a stand. He was, putting it nicely, as large as a billboard and probably just as heavy. The weight he carried on his stomach hunched him forward and his stump ankles disappeared into leather shoes. The wealthy always ended up being fat. A man his size couldn’t run; he must put a lot of trust into his henchmen. Though blurred, I could vaguely see his face. He was covered in so much scarred tissue that it made it impossible for him to smile. One eye looked out to the left, white in its blindness as the other strained beneath pinkish folds of his eyebrow-less forehead.

  “Right, straight to business. What brings you to my humbled home?”

  “I’m looking for a girl drifter. She has red hair, blue eyes, young and has been hanging around the old construction yard.”

  “Where those Mad Dogs used to be?”

  Diesel straightened up. “Do you know where they went? I’m delivering precious cargo.”

  Cesar eyes shot toward me. “You mean her? Don’t’ tell me you’re digging into my turf of human trafficking.” My knuckles curled.

  Diesel barked, “Eyes off before I shove them down your fat ass throat.”

  “Ho, ho, look at you. Guess prison really can change a man. Tell me, do you still have a dick in between your legs or is it pinned to her trophy case along with your balls?” Cesar shuffled over to get a better look at me. I pulled my arms in tighter and turned my back, not wanting to reveal my face. That’s when I caught onto a pair of prying blue eyes spying from behind the wall. I gasped, not expecting the girl to be there as she quickly jumped back.

  It’s her! I turned to signal toward Diesel but his commanding words hit me. Shut your mouth or you’re going to hobble out of here with all your toes missing. I didn’t exactly want my toes in a jar to risk calling out so I didn’t.

  I turned on my heel and ran out into the street. I could see her fleeting red hair whipping through the crowd, quickly disappearing among the mass of bodies. I used my elbows to clear myself a path, catching just glimpses as she ducked and weaved around corners to outrun me. She ran into an empty building and slammed the door shut. Gotcha! I barged my shoulder through the door to a long, spiralled staircase. I grabbed the railing and looked up. There must be at least thirty levels. I lurched myself into a sprint as a door bounced off its frame and her footsteps disappeared.

  My feet clashed like cymbals on the metal stairs as I raced up two steps at a time. I reached the third level where the door was left ajar and ran inside. I bolted in to see a large shadowed silhouette blocking most of the hallway. I skidded to a stop as the bulky machine jerked in my direction and a spark of red flashed across the room, hitting my retinas. Oh shit! Oh shit!

  I slipped and fell to the ground, landing hard on my tailbone as my feet flew out underneath me. The Sweeper turned itself toward my direction as shafts of neon city lights reflected off its metallic armour.

  I propelled myself back as it moved forward like it was on balancing on stilts.

  “Halt, citizen.” The floor shook as it stepped closer when a sudden piercing bang sounded above my head. The Sweeper’s helmet cracked back as another shot was fired into the centre of its face. A squirt of oil shot out before the Sweeper buckled and crashed. I looked up as Diesel stepped over me.

  He checked the chamber on the gun then made an angered tsk sound. “Great, empty.” I scrambled up and clutched my hand to my heart.

  “You followed me?”

  “Of course I did,” he said without turning. “What did I say about you running? Huh? I will always, always, find you.” That sounded more menacing than comforting.

  From the air vents above our heads, I heard the distinct clicking of a crossbow’s strings being pulled back. We turned toward the noise just as an arrow was released into Diesel’s thigh. The force threw Diesel to the wall followed by a yelp. I scrambled to a stand as a lone figure in the air vent called out, “Next one is going into your eye socket.”

  The stranger slowly edged out of the vent and landed effortlessly in front. The boy’s face was identical to the red-haired girl as the neon lights highlighted his red, scruffy hair and icy blue eyes.

  From beside us, the homeless girl stepped out from the shadows with my backpack over her shoulder. “Nice going, idiot! That was our only Sweeper and you destroyed it.”

  I looked at her then back to him, before down to Diesel who was pulling at the arrow in his leg. “What’s going on? This was a trap?”

  The boy walked over to what I could only assume was his sister without lowering the crossbow. “I hear you’ve been looking for us.”

  Diesel groaned as he wrenched the arrow from his thigh, “My backpack… give it to me… now.”

  “Finders keepers,” she teased. “We’re more interested in those special contacts you’ve been building. We want to know if they work.”

  I licked my lips as the air started to feel a bit like hot water. I could see the twinkle in their eye. It was the same look of excited opportunity Diesel had when he first looked at me. “No, they don’t. We haven’t even made them. It was… just an idea.”

  “Hmm is that so?” The girl pulled her hand held gun out and pointed it at me. “It takes a liar to know a liar.”

  “Point that gun at her and I’ll make you eat it,” Diesel snarled as he managed to pull himself up using the wall.

  “Shut it, you mutt,” she snapped before addressing me again. “I know you’ve made them, so don’t try to bullshit us. Do the contacts work?”

  I glanced back at Diesel but his hard expression was unreadable. I swallowed again, “We’re not sure.”

  “Where are they? Give them to me.” She held her hand out.

  Diesel sneered, “They won’t work on you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Only she can wear them.”

  As though a thought clicked, the girl nodded slowly. “Oh! Of course, because of her lack of imprints.” Alarmed, my body tensed as she looked back at me. “I read the files; it’s all they talked about. You really have everyone spooked. At least we won’t be needing you.” She swung the pistol toward Diesel and I quickly stepped across to
block her shot.

  “Just hold on a second. I’m not sure if they work one-hundred percent yet, and if you shoot him, there’s no way he can fix them.”

  Annoyed, she dropped her aim but didn’t lift her finger from the trigger, “Well isn’t that convenient.”

  “How about we test it?” the boy suggested. His twin sister looked at him as he continued, “Have her break into the vault. If the contacts work, then she should be able to get past the cameras.”

  “That’s not a bad idea. If you help us, and we’ll give you all your stuff back,” the girl offered lightly. “If you don’t, I’ll kill your boyfriend.”

  I slowly exhaled in contemplation. “What do you want with the contacts anyway?”

  “That’s for us to know, now do we have a deal or not? I’ll happily shoot you too if you rather.”

  I licked my lips, “I already told you it’s not guaranteed to work but… fine. I’ll break into your vault, but if you kill him, I’ll ensure you never get to use these contacts. Deal?”

  The twins looked between each other with a grin. “This is going to be interesting. Fine, deal.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

  “So, do you understand?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure I can manage.” I took the mobile she passed over and tucked it into my pocket. Looking out across the low-lit streets of China town, I could see the tower she was directing me to just at the back of the block. The sign outside said Anton Lawyers, but it had dislodged from its nails and now hung upside down by one corner. It wasn’t a particularly large building, ten storeys tops with most of the windows boarded up.

  “You’ll need to get to the sixth floor. Once you’re there, call me on this number and I’ll tell you what to do.”

  “What am I looking for exactly?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry about that now; just call me when you’re in the room. There’s a security system you’ll need to get past on the sixth floor. It’s only accessible to one person’s imprint. That person is Krist Truggian, but he’s long gone out of the city. If what you claim is true, then your contacts should be able to trick the camera and open the doors.”

  Diesel barked disgruntled, “If something happens to her, pumpkin patch, I’m going scoop out your eyeballs and use them as marbles.”

  “Pumpkin patch?” The girl repeated with a snort. “I’ll have you know my hair is red, not orange.”

  Diesel had been handcuffed to an old pipe sticking out of the wall at the back of the room.

  The twin boy jabbed him in with the arrow point. “Watch it. The agreement was alive, not dismembered.”

  I reassured Diesel, “I’ll be fine.”

  “This is not a good idea,” he growled again. His eyes snapped toward me. “Do I need to remind you of what is happening out there?”

  I approached him and crouched down to his eye level so I could whisper. “I know but what choice do we have? If I don’t go, they’ll kill us.”

  “Yeah but if you’re scanned I won’t be there to stop the message from reaching the Elite’s database. Listen, so far they’ve only been able to mimic Doctor Fitzgerald’s print. And even then it doesn’t always work. They are clearly not perfected yet, and there are cameras everywhere around the city. If you’re spotted-”

  “It’s fine. I’ll wear the gasmask. I’ll only take it off to have my eyes scanned. Just in and out.”

  “Come, let’s go.” A hand grabbed my shoulder and heaved me up.

  Diesel’s hand quickly snatched my sleeve. “If they find you, just run. Fuck these guys and their dumb-ass test. Go back to the bunker. I’ll find you there.”

  “Chop, chop, love birds!” The hand pulled me again and I stumbled out of Diesel’s grip. I chewed anxiously on the corner of my lip at the impenetrable stare he shot at me. His look of concern was more a look of mistrust and I was uncertain of the flutter in my stomach at leaving him behind.

  With a last brisk nod, I hiked the collar up of my coat and made my way out of the building. The wind picked up as an icy draft ran up my spine. Not even the scattered bonfires offered relief from the cold. I tucked my hands under my armpits and moved quickly. It was different being out here on my own. The drifters were so lost in their madness that rats chewed through their boots and devoured their toes without even a flinch out of them. As I parted with the crowded street, my mind de-clattered too. This was my chance.

  A wave of realization moved over me. Diesel was tied to the pipe back inside the abandoned office building. From where I stood beneath the canopy, there was no way they could see which way I took. I could turn left; I could run out of the city and make my way to freedom. I could start a new life, head toward a smaller town not overshadowed by the Elite. By the time they realised I had ditched them, I would be long gone. I turned my body toward the left side of the street. It was clear and there was a gap between the towers I could reach in a quick sprint.

  I hesitated. If I ran away, they would kill Diesel. Kill, no, they would torture him. But, is that my problem? I mean, I don’t have an obligation to him. What did he do for me? Sure he rescued me from Alpha prison, and from my parents and the Sweeper, but does that mean I’m his property to drag around?

  Everyone is out for themselves. No one would blame me for running. If I stayed with him, I had no idea what type of danger I’d be forced into. Plus, I didn’t know what he’d do once I was no longer useful. He saw me as a product, as some freak to use like a master key. I lowered my head, if I really believed that then why am I still standing here?

  Diesel was sadistic. He was violent and sometimes frightening, but he was also honest. Not even my own family would take the same risks as Diesel took to rescue me. He was the only person who looked out for me; the thought made me feel sick. Great, my only ally is a blacklisted psychopath. At least he’s on my side, I guess. I turned back around and made my way toward Anton’s Lawyers tower as promised. If Diesel died, it was not going to be because of my betrayal.

  I moved quickly around the block and reached the front entrance of the tower. As promised, I hid my face beneath the gasmask as I climbed the three steps up to the door and checked over my shoulders twice. It was clear. I tried the doorknob but the wood had warped, making the door stick. I promptly rammed my shoulder into the panel and the door swung open. I didn’t hover. Once the door opened, I slipped in and quickly slammed it shut behind me. I turned to face the open foyer to find it blissfully abandoned. I stepped around carefully to avoid the scattered deep cracks that ran along the tiles and into the walls.

  I took the phone out and used the backlight as a torch. At the back of the room were barred doors next to a sign with a staircase picture. I weaselled through the gaps in the wooden barricade and started up the stairs. It was so quiet that every scrape of my boot sent a spiralling ring up the staircase. I reached the fifth floor but the stairs connecting the fifth to the sixth had been destroyed.

  The sixth floor’s door looked like it had been melted shut around the doorframe, and the stairs didn’t start up again until the eighth. Crap! I took the fifth door in hopes of finding an alternative way in. I peeked in to a clattered office, fitted with abandoned work desks, wheelie chairs and emptied filing cabinets. Unsurprisingly, the office had been gutted of any valuables; the only electronics left over were the dead calculators. I slowly crept through the deserted office, keeping the phone light ahead of me. There wasn’t anything in here, only trash. I got to the other side of the room where the windows were and yanked the blinds down.

  The outside city lights shone over me in harsh neon. I tapped the glass with my fingers. It felt thick; probably shatter proof too. I tore the blinds down on the window next to it to find bullet holes. The glass around it had cracked but it still felt too secure to smash. I pocketed the phone and turned back around to notice a puddle had accumulated on the floor. The dark patch had solidified chunks in it, making me think of blood. I stepped back and looked up. The roof above the puddle was intact, but there was a moulded patch w
here the liquid must have seeped through.

  Well, I guess that’s my way up. I stacked a few of the tables together and balanced on my toes on the top of the chairs. I shifted the panel above my head carefully and tossed it to the ground. Behind the panel, there was a small man-sized hole drilled into the floor of the sixth floor.

  Bingo! I hopped down and collected another chair to stack. It was unstable, but I managed to balance on the chair arms just long enough to secure my grip. My blood pressure dipped and I wobbled off balance and gripped tighter. Adrenaline ran low, my stomach squeezed in demand for food and my vision spotted. Even with exhaustion fumbling my limbs, I couldn’t stop. I took two deep breaths, pushing the pain of hunger down and letting my swirling head settle. I then lifted myself onto my stomach and through the hole.

  As I crawled through, the upper level was covered completely black aside from a red light flashing from the back corner. That must be it.

  I scrambled onto my feet when a strong, curdled smell swarmed around me, causing me to gag and drop down to one knee. Even through the gasmask, the stench wrapped itself around my face like an unbearable hug. I turned the phone light toward the blackened carpet where there were bloodstains and chunks of flesh splattered through-out the room. What the hell happened here? A mixture of curiosity and repulsion filled my clouded head. How many people have died trying to get into this vault? Suddenly, my confidence in the contacts just dropped to one percent. If I was not careful, I’d also be joining the blood soup in the carpet.

  I pulled the mask down and pulled out the phone to send a message to the only number in the contact list.

  I’m here but it looks dangerous. There’s a lot of blood.