42: Always welcome

Requiem sat with her head tilted back, her eyes unfocused. She stared at the dark ceiling, the dusty cobwebs going in and out of focus, seeming to split in two before reattaching when she blinked. She was bored, and at a time when she should have been frightened.

Cyrus wanted to see her, something that would have most people shivering. Yet, Requiem wasn’t bothered, for a reason even she didn’t know.

Hmm, I guess I’m just that fearless.

An older, grey-haired man with a twisted face and a blue bandana approached her, the unmistakable scent of alcohol trailing along with him. “The boss be ready to be seein’ yas,” he croaked. The man had a disgusting voice, so Requiem followed him without argument, not wanting to hear another word. Requiem hoped they’d be moving on soon, because if this man’s voice didn’t kill her, then the smell of fish guts surely would.

He led her even farther underneath the fish-packaging facility, down into a wide tunnel with steam valves and loose-hanging wires emitting sparks. Requiem wondered just how deep the place ran, or why such deep tunnels existed in the first place. There was a tradeoff to the place, too. No longer could Requiem smell the unbearable rot of fish, but now, in the corners of her eyes she could make out disgusting rodents shuffling from corner to corner.

“In here yas be going,” the man cackled. His breath held the same smell of rot as the upper floors. Requiem wanted to stab him.

The man turned the handle on a large circular door that ran from her boots to the ceiling. It slid to the side rather than push open, and at once Requiem could hear the combined hum of laughter. There were about twenty people inside, all laughing in intervals at the sound of Cyrus’s voice. There would be a moment of relative quiet, where Cyrus’s powerful, rumbling voice was the only sound in the air, followed by another fit of laughter and applause.

Requiem stepped inside and shook her head at the display of arrogance. Cyrus was sitting on a throne adorned with gold and diamond, surrounded by his adoring followers. Requiem moved closer to hear his speech.

“And then,” he said, gesturing with his hands and laughing, “the guy’s body fell to the floor almost a full ten seconds later. It’s true!”

Requiem knew what he was talking about: she’d watched the whole thing from the shadows. That one team—an Op. team they were called, if she remembered correctly—had been thrashed by Cyrus.

The girl that resembled death, Clair, chortled at his story, covering her mouth with a medical-gloved hand. Requiem did not like her. Oh, no, she most certainly did not. Requiem was never what most people would consider normal. She always knew she was a little crazy. She knew that in a world filled with light bulbs that she was a florescent light. But Clair, well, now that girl was a different sort altogether. That nut-job was cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. Requiem didn’t even want to look at her. She was wearing a white wedding gown, covered in thick strips of dark blood. Not even human blood, but pig’s blood for whatever insane symbolic reason she’d conjured in that labyrinth of decay that passed for her mind. Her laugh was twisted, and she always covered a hand to her mouth and chortled away like a middle-aged British noble gossiping over tea.

“Tell me more, tell me more!” Clair demanded of Cyrus.

“Like does he have a car?” Requiem mumbled under her breath. She became infuriated every time the girl spoke. Requiem wanted to staple her mouth shut and force her to wear human clothing. She looked ridiculous, her humongous wedding dress hiding her tiny feet underneath. Her pale skin and blond hair made her look like a zombie, an annoying, chortling zombie.

“Ah, you know what? I need to show you guys for you to believe what happened, maybe I can recreate it,” Cyrus said. “You!” he shouted at a middle-aged man standing at the edge of the ring around him. “Step forward.”

The man trembled as he walked, his eyes looking down at the floor. “What is your name and affinity?” Cyrus asked.

“My name is Colton, sir. I’m a Telekinetic, just joined today.”

Cyrus nodded, removing a piece of paper from the pocket of his slacks. That was another thing odd about the man. Cyrus always seemed to be well dressed, no matter where he was. It looked so out of place on him, with the circular scars on his face and the menacing look of evil that escaped his dark eyes. “Recite this line for me. It’s what the man said earlier. I want to show these people a recreation.”

Colton gulped and took the paper. “You ready?” Cyrus asked. “I’ve got the first line. Now, remember everyone, this is exactly how it happened.” Cyrus left his throne to come standing before the frightened Kinetic.

Cyrus cleared his throat. “Ehem. Would you like to beg for your life now? I’ll wait.”

Colton trembled. Cyrus whispered, loud enough so all could hear. “Don’t remember to do the action as well.”

Colton spat on the ground in front of Cyrus, reciting the line. “I never beg. Just end it.”

Cyrus shrugged. “Well, if you say so.”

Much like he had done to the Op. team only a day before, Cyrus rubbed his hands together. There was a short, but high-pitched cry of pain, followed by Colton’s head popping off his body as if it were nothing more than a child’s action figure. An instant later, the body fell to the ground, blood pouring from the empty socket where once his head had been.

There was a round of applause and cheering from all around, Clair the loudest of them all. Cyrus’s face changed, going from amused and entertained, to bloodthirsty and furious. “Silence!” he shouted at them.

The applause and cheering cut off at once. “This is not how it happened! When I killed the other man, his body remained standing for almost a minute before falling to the ground. Damn it all!” he hissed, kicking the lifeless, headless corpse. “Doesn’t he have a brother here or something? I want to try it again. Who here isn’t marked?”

All at once, with a desperate and maniacal haste, everyone around the room—with the exception of Requiem and Clair—lifted up their sleeves and displayed a tattoo in the shape of a raven, much like the one on his forehead. They all turned to look at Requiem. “This one is not marked!” a man shouted.

As quickly as his anger had appeared, it left in an instant. Cyrus smiled and held out his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Ah, Requiem, I am so glad you’ve come. I’ve wanted to speak with you. Everyone else—get out!”

No one would disobey the man, no one that wanted to live, anyway. It only took a few seconds for the Psychs to leave. Requiem had no idea why this man wanted to see her, but she forced herself to remain calm.

“Well, I’m here now, Darling. What is it you want?”

Cyrus sat back down in his extravagant chair, or throne, or whatever it was. Requiem didn’t care either way. “I’m very disappointed that I had to ask you to come see me, and that you didn’t decide to come by yourself, dear.”

Requiem didn’t know what Cyrus was on about, but she kept her face straight. “And why is that, Darling?”

An odd look crossed Cyrus’s expression, and it seemed for a moment that he looked hurt or offended. “Requiem, sweetie, I know that you’re not Sebastian’s stepdaughter. I’m not an idiot, you know?”

Requiem continued to keep a straight face, but a burst of panic shot through her, attacking her stomach. She knew better than to lie to this man; a single lie could kill her, and she promised Jack she’d live as long as he did. She couldn’t die just yet. “Ah, you’ve found me out.”

Cyrus stood up from his “throne” and paced the room. “Requiem, dear, why did you lie?”

Requiem’s words were the truth, even if they weren’t the whole truth. “I wanted to join you, Cyrus. I am a powerful Telepath, one that can be of great use to you. Darling, does such an insignificant detail really matter?”

Cyrus sighed. “Normally, no, but you should know that you’re always welcome here, Requiem. In fact, I was very unhappy that you didn’t come to me sooner.”

Sooner? What is this foolish man talking about?

“You look confused, and that can only mean one thing.” Cyrus walked up to Requiem, coming to stand before her. Even Requiem felt fear in his presence—the man exuded power. It was more than just his unforgiving face.

“Redemption used to go on and on about you and your brother, but he must not have mentioned me. That is why you were alone all this time. Ah well, you’re here now, and that’s what matters. Requiem, you have always and will always be welcome here.”

Requiem worried that her heart would stop, and that she’d die on the spot. “Redemption!” she shouted out. “Our true father, you know of him? Please, tell me where he—”

Cyrus gently put a finger over Requiem’s lips, silencing her. She had to resist the temptation to bite it off. “Ah, ah, ah,” he said, wiggling his finger over her mouth. “You know that if the man doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be. You also know that he doesn’t approve of divulging secrets. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?”

Requiem wasn’t happy, but at least now she knew she wasn’t going to die. If Cyrus knew Redemption, there’d be no way he’d kill her. “Where is your brother?” he asked. “From what I’ve heard, you two are inseparable. He’d also make a fine addition to our family.”

Requiem felt tears beg her for release. All it took was a single thought of Jack Harris, and they ceased before they had any real chance to form. She looked Cyrus straight in the eyes. “He’s dead,” she said. “Killed by an Op. team.”

Pity and remorse filled Cyrus’s expression, and oddly enough, Requiem was sure it was genuine. “Oh, no, no, no, that is horrible. Ah, such a pity! Though, it’s not entirely unexpected, either. As I hear it, Redemption was only able to train you two for a short time. I’m amazed you’ve survived this long on your own. You truly will be a fine addition, and know that I am forever sorry about your brother. Things will be different here, though. That much I can promise you. I won’t let you wander the world as helpless as Redemption did. I’ve gathered quite a few Telepaths here, all very powerful. They’ll teach you things you could only dream of being able to do. I might even teach you a few things myself.”

This was something Requiem wanted to hear. She wanted to be as powerful as she could be, perhaps even more powerful than Deven Moore, who commissioned her to this rot-hole in the first place. Deven had told her that Jack Harris, her Darling, her angel, could never be free, because he was something called an Unrestricted. He told her that if she completed her mission, he’d let her see him. If Requiem became powerful enough, she’d be able to free Jack from those awful people and take him away to somewhere they could live their lives in happiness and peace. It was her dream.

“Now listen, dear, because this is important. I’ve got something of a temper, you see? And usually when I get angry, people start to die. I’ve just got to kill, you know? Of course you do. Anyway, when someone shows their loyalty and dedication, they get ‘marked’. What this means is that unless they screw up real bad, they’re guaranteed my protection, and not only from me, but from the others around here. Make sure you speak with Clair on the way out; she’ll use her Manipulation to give you The Raven.”

Requiem grunted. “I don’t like that Pig-faced horse of a woman, almost as much as that other pig-faced donkey.” Cyrus didn’t know about the Melissa girl, but Requiem had to vent her frustrations anyway.

“Well, deal with it. By the way, how did you get Sebastian to go along with this, anyway? Must’ve been money, because I don’t take him for the type to be into young girls. He’s a good man, that Harris guy. Too bad he’s such a softy, though. Rest assured I’ve got plans for him. He only cares about the money now, but when he sees what I’ve got in store, I’m sure he’ll put more of his heart into our efforts. You see, when I was just a boy, I … hey! Are you listening to me, Requiem? Put the phone away!”

“Hush, Darling, I’m playing this delightful thing a friend of mine has told me about. It is called birds most angry and fowl. Or was it Angry Birds?” Requiem knew she was disrespecting a man that had killed people for literally breathing the wrong way around him, but she had a feeling Cyrus liked her.

“Hmm, you’re a tough one, you are. I can see why Redemption talked about you all the time. Ah well, as long as you’ve got the basics down. Now, go get that mark, and then get some rest. I’ll be around if you need me.”

Requiem left the room and exited back through the tunnel. She rushed back to her own room and slammed the door shut behind her, making sure that no one was around to see her. She had promised Deven that she’d make no attempt to contact the outside world once she established a connection to Sebastian and 90-B, or, Cyrus as he was known here. But she had an emergency, a message that needed to be delivered at all costs. She took out her phone and made contact. There was news she needed to deliver, she needed to report at once!

******

Jack felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He leaned forward with a grunt—it hurt to make sudden movements—and looked down at the message on his screen.

Darling, I have completed another level! Soon I shall become better than you are at Discontent Avians.

Jack laughed and smiled as he texted back.

Its Angry Birds Sandra How maaany tim sdo I gotta tell u?

The response was immediate. And how many times must I tell you, Darling? It’s “you” and not “u.” This is why you received an 8 on your last book report.

Jack moaned, not wanting to remember his horrible grade. He’d actually read the book too, which made things suck even more. The door to the student pickup area opened, and Melissa walked inside. Jack fumbled around for a moment, scrambling to put the phone away before Melissa could see it. Sandra had told him repeatedly that she’d be in big trouble if Jack let anyone know she’d been contacting him. Jack promised he’d keep quiet, and thus far, he had.

He still planned to see Sandra the first chance he was able. Deven said she was staying at a room in H.Q and that she was safe and being cared for, yet every time Jack wanted to see her there’d been a problem. The first time he tried, she wasn’t there, and the secretary told Jack she was busy learning Psych-stuff. The second time, she was sleeping, and the third time there was a problem with the I.D. card they’d given him, and he couldn’t get into the building. Three expensive bus rides to New York City and three failed attempts, but Jack would keep trying.

Melissa took a seat next to him on the green couch. The office was small, with only two benches and a window where the secretary kept an eye on the kids going home early. Jack was still in pain, but he’d been told his injuries looked far worse than they actually were. The nurses had cleaned him up, and when Jack looked into the mirror, he had to admit he looked much better without the blood all over his face. The swollen eye was somewhat gross, but they said that would be gone in a few days’ time.

“Melissa, how come you’re here?” Jack asked.

“I’ve been suspended,” she grumbled. “Paro’s coming to pick the both of us up.”

“Huh?” Jack said. “Why isn’t my mom coming? And why were you suspended?”

Melissa’s face tightened, and she tried not to look Jack in the eyes. “I beat up Kip, that’s why. I taught him a real good lesson. In fact, I even made him cry, so there’s nothing to be ashamed of anymore. He cried even louder than you did, like such a baby. I bet that—”

“You lied to me!” Jack shouted. The secretary whispered “hold on” into the wired phone she held to her ear then gave Jack a reproachful look. Jack lowered his voice. “Melissa, you promised you wouldn’t do anything. Why did you lie to me?”

“Does it really matter? The point is I taught him a lesson that he needed to learn. See, now he knows what it’s like to get a beating.”

Jack scowled at her, something he never thought he’d do to Melissa. She flinched at his expression. “He already knows,” Jack said. “All you did was help make his life even worse than it already is.”

Melissa shook her head. “Wait, what? What are you talking about, Jack?”

“When he was hitting me, I did that thing again, and I saw something from his life. His father beats him every day, almost to the point of unconsciousness. His life is hell, a constant agony. All you did was make that worse. He took his anger out on other people because he didn’t know any other way, and he needed someone to help him. School was the one place where he meant something, a place he felt safe. Now, he’s been beaten here and at home. Melissa, why did you attack him?”

Melissa looked stunned, her mouth moving but no words coming out. It was a while before sound parted her lips. “Jack, I didn’t know. How could I know? I did it for you.”

“Andy told me the same thing about hurting all those people!”

Melissa’s mouth fell open. Her face reddened.

Jack sighed. He felt sorry for getting angry with her. “It’s not your fault, I guess. But I worry about him now.”

“Even after what he did to you? You still worry about him?”

“I can’t help it. It’s just how I am.”

“That’s true, I guess. You are you. I’m going to have to make this right somehow.”

“No need,” Jack said. He tried to keep the anger from his voice, but he was failing at it. “I’m gonna handle it.”

Melissa looked concerned, and she placed an arm on Jack’s shoulder. Her voice was soft, but at the same time stern. “And just what do you mean by that?”

“It seems to me like the reason people keep lashing out with violence is because they forget there’s other ways to express themselves. Andy did it, Sandra and Anthony did it, and now I see that Kip is doing it. I’m going to talk to his dad and straighten him out myself.”

“I don’t know whether I want to hug you or hit you, Jack, but you absolutely cannot do that. Not only is it not your place, but you could also get into serious trouble for it.”

“I don’t care. I’m doing it, even if I get punished. And if he won’t speak to me, I’ll rip off his door and make him listen. Yes, with my power, I don’t even care about the consequences.”

“Dangerous words,” Melissa whispered. “Look, can we at least talk to Paro about it before you do anything? You keep forgetting you’ve got a team for this very reason. I promise you he can handle it. Don’t forget, our team-leader is also a captain, and he has the power of, like, I don’t know, a supercop or something. He can walk onto any crime scene in the country and take it over, even without permission from the higher-ups. Let him handle it, Jack.”

Jack sighed. “Fine, if he can get it done then I’ll let him do it. But I’m gonna make sure of it one way or another. The only way any of this stuff ever ends is if you stop it at the source. Don’t ask me how I know that, either. I just do.”

The door opened again, and this time it was Paro who entered. He looked at Jack and sighed; then he looked at Melissa and frowned. “I’m here to pick up Melissa Sayre and Jack Harris,” he told the secretary.

“Are you their father or guardian?” she asked. “I need to see some I.D. or I can’t—”

“Will this do?” Paro asked, flashing some kind of badge.

The secretary looked at it then gasped in disbelief. “Whoa, what did those two do to have you come after them? Take them, take them, and don’t let me be the one to get in the way of government business. Jeeze, I knew Harris was trouble, but if you’re here, it means I didn’t know the half of it.”

Paro and Melissa stood in unison. Melissa cast her eyes away from Paro as she spoke. “Listen, Paro, I—”

“Don’t want to hear it,” Paro said, cutting her off. “I’ll deal with you later. Jack, how are you feeling?”

“All right, I guess. I’m still in a bit of pain, but I’m already starting to feel better since they gave me the Tylenol.”

Paro nodded. “Listen, I’ve got something I need to tell you, and it won’t be easy to hear. Come outside, the rest of the team is waiting for us in the van. I can’t speak here.”

Paro led them out of the school, passed the courtyard that still held a few people sitting around cutting class, and into the parking lot. They crossed the street, waiting a moment for a few cars to pass, before crossing it. It was a beautiful June day. The sun was out, birds were chirping, and Jack felt his mood brighten as a gentle breeze washed over him. Paro slid open the back door of the van, then Jack and Melissa jumped inside.

“Hey, bud,” Michael said. “How ya feelin’?”

“It’s good to see you, Jack,” Sarah said. “We heard what happened, and we were all worried.”

Jack looked around. “Where’s Kazou?”

Paro put his arms on Jack’s shoulders and took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking the whole way over here of how I should say this to you, but in the end I’ve decided to say it all in one quick burst, because I just want to get this over with.”

Jack felt the beginnings of alarm. Did something happen to Kazou?

“I found out that Kazou was the one who called the Op. teams on us, so here’s the deal. I kicked him off the team, and he’s by himself now. His brother was just murdered, and we’re on our way to see him, because he has no one else to tell him the news. Wow, that actually wasn’t so bad. You know, I thought that would be a lot harder. Did you take all that in, Jack? Hey, now don’t give me that look, Jack. I’m serious, don’t give me that—”

“Why would you do that?” Jack yelled, pushing Paro off him. “Are you kidding me, Paro? You kicked out Kazou? How could you? I’m calling him up right now and telling him you’re just a stupid idiot and you didn’t mean it, and then you’re going to apologize to him and—muhph”

Melissa covered Jack’s mouth, and his words trailed into mumbles. “This was a very hard decision for him, you idiot, show some respect.”

“It’s okay,” Paro said. There was sadness in his voice. “I’m not happy about it either. But I did what I had to, and you’re free to yell and scream about it all you want, Jack. But I’m not changing the decision and you will accept that.”

Jack turned his head away and crossed his arms. “Like hell I will.”

“Do you even realize what his actions have done? Because of his actions, you, your mother, even Melissa, all of you almost got killed by Cemmera Wilson. That boy, Ruin—”

“Anthony!” Jack snapped.

Paro held out his palm in a gesture of calm and continued to speak. “Anthony then, if you insist. Because of Kazou, the Op. team was able to kill him. We’d have been able to save him otherwise.”

“That’s true,” Jack said. “But everyone makes mistakes. I bet he only did what he did ‘cause he thought they were too dangerous. I don’t think Kazou would’a done something like that just to be mean.”

“Well, obviously,” Melissa grumbled.

Paro shot her a warning look before turning his attention back on Jack. “We know that. Of course Kazou would never do anything to intentionally cause us harm.”

Hearing Paro’s words, Jack grew confused. “Wait, you mean you know this? You know he didn’t do it on purpose, and you still kicked him out? Why would you do that?”

“Because he disobeyed an order, an order that had he followed would have saved a life.”

Jack slammed his fist down on his seat. “That’s not fair! He made a mistake, and now he’s all alone and he doesn’t have any friends. You’re putting him back on the team, Paro.”

Paro’s lips pulled back, revealing his clenched teeth. “Now you listen to me. I’m trying to be nice here, but you’re wearing me thin. I’m your team-leader, and you don’t get a say in this. Now, I’ve heard enough out of you. Right now, I’m more worried about how to tell him the only person he has left in this world has died.”

Michael, Sarah, and Melissa all gasped in surprise as Jack sprung up from his seat and grabbed Paro’s throat. “He’s not alone! He still has us!”

Paro looked calmly down at Jack; though there was no anger in his eyes, Paro’s jaw tightened. Jack figured Paro had never been disrespected this way, but he wasn’t about to let Paro get away with abandoning one of their team-members.

“Easy now, Jack,” Michael said. “Paro, please don’t flip out over this. He’s just a kid …”

Paro didn’t flip out. Jack trembled as his team-leader only stared down at him without saying a word. His neck, which Jack was still gripping, tightened in his fingers. Jack was worried he might have gone too far this time. Slowly, Paro raised his hand and grabbed Jack’s arm, removing it from his throat.

“For that, Jack, I’m reporting you to your mother.”

Jack laughed. And to think, here he was expecting some epic punishment, and all he was getting was a phone call home? “My mom’s not gonna do anything, Paro. She loves me. What’s she gonna do?”

Paro grinned. “For what you just did? Quite a bit, I’d imagine.” Michael and Sarah exchanged nervous glances, and Melissa seemed troubled.

“Hey, I reckon you can just slap him around a few times,” Michael said. “We don’t have to take it that far.”

Paro looked at Michael. “We do. I didn’t tolerate this from Kazou, and I certainly won’t tolerate it from Jack.”

Jack shrugged. He didn’t care. Let Paro rat on him to his mom. He got in trouble at school all the time, so why should it matter to him?

*****

The last of the money was placed in the man’s hand, and he nodded and walked away. “Well, I’m glad that was taken care of,” Alana said. “Now all we have to do is wait.”

They were in a dark alley, in a less respectable part of Manhattan. The smell of trash was obnoxiously strong, and Alana wanted to be gone as soon as possible.

“Still,” Deven said, “I’m worried about Sebastian and the girl. I hope they play their parts well.”

Alana felt the return of her sadness. “I don’t like this, Deven. We’re using that poor girl. She thinks she’s going to marry Jack and take him away when all this has ended. It isn’t right.”

Deven nodded. “I know, and I feel awful about putting her through all of this danger. But the girl, she’s connected to Redemption, I’m sure of it. I told you what your son said to me; he must have seen something inside of her mind. We need her there.”

Alana’s phone rang, and she pulled it out from the white, loose-fitting general’s coat that covered her body. “General Harris,” she answered.

Her eyes widened as she heard the news. “Jack did what? Oh, I’ll deal with him all right. When I get home he’s gonna get it good.”

Alana slammed the phone shut and looked at Deven. “My son just grabbed his team-leader by the throat.”

Deven laughed. “That’s awesome.”

“Keh!” Alan spat on the ground. “You need to take these things more seriously. I’ve let Jack act like a fool for far too long. Only becoming a general again has helped me see that. Such disrespect, not only to a team-leader, but a captain nonetheless.”

“Poor kid,” Deven moaned. “Don’t go too hard on him.”

“You let me worry about that,” she growled.