She Has A Broken Thing Where Her Heart Should Be - J.D. Barker Page 0,240

through the crowd of people back to the Pontiac. He nodded at the man in white standing beside the driver’s door.

He reached inside and pressed the trunk release.

The GTO’s trunk popped open, and David leaned inside. He appeared to be whispering to someone.

That’s when I spotted Latrese Oliver.

She had been gagged. The sling that once held her injured arm was gone, and the black appendage dangled loosely at her side. Blackened flesh trailed up from the arm over the side of her neck, to her face, the death slowly spreading. David forced her first to sit up, then climb out. He and one other helped her to the ground. I could tell by the awkward way in which she stood, whatever was spreading from her arm had worked its way down to her leg, too.

“You see, Jack. When I was a kid, the fine people at Charter used me to knock off the participants of Project Leapfrog. That’s what they called the shot they gave to all our parents: Leapfrog. I’ve got the file, if you want to take a look. I’ve read them all. Every scrap of paper. The adults were expendable once they had us kids. We were what they wanted. They used Stella, too. This woman here saw to that. Used us both, really. You too. Your father can tell you all about that.”

Latrese Oliver glared at him. David smiled back. “I’ve wanted to kill this woman for years, but I didn’t. I kept her alive just for you, so you could watch. Think of her as a peace offering. You, me, Stella, and now Darby, we’re 2.0, we’re next generation. We need to stick together. Latrese here is part of the problem, though, part of the mess. She’s got to go. I cleaned up the mess back at old Charter corporate. Now it’s time to sweep the last of the dirt into the pan.”

Stella tried to get up and nearly fell. I reached down and helped her to her feet. She drew in a sharp breath when she saw Oliver out there, the condition she was in.

David rubbed at his temple with his thumb. “I’m not gonna lie to you, Jack, the adults need to die. There’s no way around that. I frankly don’t want any more of us, and they can make more. Can’t have that.” He looked up at the building, his eyes scanning the dozens of people looking back at him. “It’s getting late, and I need my beauty rest. I think it’s time we get on with things, don’t you?”

I had one arm around Stella’s waist, the other on the edge of the windowsill. Her shallow breathing was the only sound in our little room.

“Not gonna come out, Jack? Oliver not enough for you? You need a bigger carrot?” David shook his head. “Do you know the name Penelope Maudlin? Our friend Dewey Hobson sure did.” He nodded toward Dewey’s broken, lifeless body on the concrete.

Stella’s hand went to her mouth. “That’s Dewey?”

I nodded.

“Your dad, Cammie, Dalton—or is it Preacher?—they all knew her well, college chums. Long before her unfortunate accident in 1992, she got herself knocked up and had a kid, too. A little boy, born the same year as you and me. She was a bit unstable, though. For the most part, the boy’s father raised him. Then that went to shit, too. I guess he’s a bit of a half-breed—his mother took the shot, his father didn’t…” David held out both his hands, weighing this. “Not sure what that means for him. Charter’s files said with only one affected parent, he exhibited no special abilities. They wrote him off. He does have a sense for business, maybe that’s what he walked away with, who knows. You know him pretty well, I gotta wonder—you ever see anything special there?”

Stella looked at me.

I shrugged my shoulders, not sure who he was talking about.

David tilted his head and swept his arm at the building like a game show host. “Will the son of Penelope Maudlin, please come down!”

Nearly a minute passed before Dunk stepped from the mouth of Carrie Furnace and hobbled on his cane through the crowd of white to David.

Dunk never mentioned his mother.

When he moved to Pittsburgh from Chicago, it had only been him and his father. Many of the kids in school came from broken homes. I figured if he wanted to talk about it, he would. He never did, though. Not once.

Dunk moved like a zombie through