Soulless The Girl in the Box - By Robert J. Crane Page 0,34
become calm resignation. “As if you don’t know.”
“Oh, I know. I just wanted to hear you say it.” I took two steps toward him. He didn’t move. “Tell me where Site Epsilon is.”
His eyes widened and I watched his aged hands turn white as they clenched each other. “How...?” His face went back to relaxed. “You...are batting at shadows.”
“Nah, I’m batting at the things that cast shadows.” I took another step. “Site Epsilon. Andromeda. Where? Last chance.” I angled a hand toward him in warning. “And don’t even think about coming at me with those—”
His battered jacket burst open, the ripping of the fabric like a thunderclap in the quiet summer eve. I jumped forward and hit him three times in the face before he landed the first attack, a hard bite on my shoulder. I grunted in pain and slammed his head against the wood floor. Two gargantuan snakes extended from his body, one from behind each of his shoulder blades. I snatched a butcher knife from the block next to the sink and cut into the first as it struck at me, splitting the head from its body. It went limp and dropped, flopping on the floor behind him.
I got to my feet, knife in hand as Beauregard struggled to his knees, the remaining snake head giving him license to do so. It extended five feet from his body, keeping out of range of the knife, hissing and striking every time it got close to me. I feinted toward him and it snapped and came at me. I reached out with my free hand and wrapped my arm around it, trapping it in a headlock as I drove the blade through the top of its skull, slicing the head off. Without so much as another sound, it fell still and quiet, and I turned to Franklin, who was on his knees, both snake bodies limp and hanging from his shoulders.
“Andromeda,” I said as I dangled the knife before his eyes. “Would you care to guess what you lose next?”
He bowed his head, and I heard a whisper. “Decorah, Iowa. It’s in Decorah.”
I knelt and dropped the blade to the ground, clucking my tongue. “Why do you have to lie to me, Franklin? It demeans us both.”
“I’m telling the truth.” He looked up at me, his fingers resting on the floor as though he were drawing strength from it.
I reached up and my hand wrapped around his neck, applying only the slightest pressure, forcing him to look me in the eye. “Site Epsilon is not in Decorah, and we both know it. You’ve certainly got an Omega safehouse there, but that ain’t where Andromeda is.” I smiled at him. “So...the hard way, then.”
He gasped as the pain began, my other hand holding him tight on the cheek. “But...you...would have done this anyway...”
“Of course,” I said, my hands holding him as he started to grunt, then let out his first scream. “It’s not like I trust you.” I felt the surge begin as his life, his soul, drained out of him, my hands pressed tightly to his cheeks. His memories flooded into me, into my mind, causing it to swirl, a fresh infusion of life into my brain. I let his body drop to the floor and I stood up, looking down on him in pity. “Now that you’re in here,” I tapped the side of my head, “you can’t lie to me anymore, Franklin.”
I heard something move behind me and I turned. His son (I knew because of his memories now in my head) was stirring, moving from where I had put him down against the wall. I walked to the back door and knelt next to him, flipping the boy over. He still looked young, but I’d put a nice gash on his forehead. His eyelids fluttered and he mumbled something. “Shut up,” I said. I stared at him for a minute, then shook my head, letting out a sigh of impatience. Too young.
“This is your lucky day,” I said as I pressed my hand against his face. Even unconscious, I felt him squirm when the pain started. I held contact for another couple of seconds and then pulled my hand away. I could see the rise and fall of his chest, the regularity of his breathing a sign of the mercy I didn’t even know I had in me. “Don’t worry,” I said. “You won’t remember any of this.”