THE FOURTH NIGHT

“The times come and pass, and are reckoned on our account.”

- Paolo Giorello, Turb leader

Twinkling stars became visible among the dimming skies, the bright crescent of the moon glistening above the setting sun. Shops were closing, businesses were shutting their doors, people hurried to the warm safety of their homes.

Inside the Turb Corporation Building, Paolo Giorello lay silently in his bed, waiting for the illness which had stricken him to pass. The week had been rough for him. He had become sick over the month and was still expected to manage the Turbs. Even so, he had passed most of the responsibility onto his second in command, Trevor. At least until he got his strength back.

He groaned softly, reminiscing back to when the Turbs were simply the Tyrant Urban Corporation, how they had originally been a packaging industry. He grinned. How the times had changed.

A knock came at his bedroom door. “Come in,” he grumbled. The door slowly opened and the figure of Miss Victoria stepped into the room. Giorello gave a sigh of relief. “Ah, my sweet niece Integra. I was worried you were just another of those bumbling doctors.”

She smiled timidly. “Good evening, uncle Paolo.”

“What news have you brought with you?” Giorello coughed.

“None, I just came to give you some company.” She walked across the room and took her seat in a chair next to the bed. “So, how are you?”

Giorello chuckled. “I’ve been getting better. The doctor says I should clear up in a week or two. You don’t have to worry about me dying any time soon.”

“That’s good to hear,” Victoria replied.

Another knock came at the door and a domestic entered the room, carrying a tray with two glasses placed on it. “I have lemonade, as Miss Victoria requested.”

“Good,” Victoria said. “Leave it here and go.”

The maid placed the tray onto a table, smiling briefly at the two before quickly shuffling out the door.

Victoria stood up and walked to the drinks. “They never make it right.” She grinned as she pulled a flask from her pocket. “They need to mix in a little brandy to get it the way you like.”

Giorello laughed weakly. “You know me better than anyone else here.”

The woman smiled, pouring a small amount of alcohol into each drink. She turned momentarily to make sure her uncle wasn’t looking, then pulled something else from her pocket. It was a tiny capsule, which she quickly broke and stirred into one of the drinks. “Almost done,” she said.

After finishing she picked up both glasses and carried them to the bed. She handed one of the drinks to Giorello, keeping the second for herself. She raised her glass into the air. “To good health.”

“Cheers.” Giorello raised his glass, then took a small sip. Victoria did the same, watching the man carefully out of the corner of her eye. Giorello took another sip, followed by a large gulp. “This tastes just as good as it always does.”

Victoria smiled. “I think it tastes even better.”

Giorello laughed. “You know, my dear, I’m so happy to know that you—.” He stopped abruptly. The glass slid from his grip and shattered on the floor, spraying the air with drink and broken glass. Giorello opened his mouth, gasping for air, his hand at his chest, clutching his fiercely beating heart. He looked up at his niece, who was smiling deviously. “What did you—.”

She shushed him, placing her hand over his mouth. “Your time as leader of the Turbs is over.”

The man stared at Victoria with a look of profound shock and agony in his eyes, his breath coming in wheezing gasps. “How could you do this to me? I’m family!”

Victoria grinned. “For someone who has been in the business as long as you have, I really thought you’d understand.”

Giorello shook his head slowly, a stream of red blood appearing from the side of his lips. He opened his mouth to speak, but he had not the strength to utter a single word. His eyelids became heavy, slowly fluttering shut. His hands slipped down, his right resting on his stomach, the left dangling off the side of the bed. With one final anguished breath, Paolo Giorello died.

Victoria stared down at her dead uncle. She had finally done it. The Turbs belonged to her now.

She smirked. Don’t act too happy, nobody will believe you. She walked to the door, tears running down her cheeks. Now it was time for the waterworks.

—————————————————————————————

Zack groaned softly, slowly returning to reality. Every bone in his body ached, he could feel every bruise and cut singing a solemn requiem of suffering.

He opened his eyes, staring hazily at three dark figures looming over him. His vision was moist and blurred, but he knew who the people were.

“I think he’s awake,” David’s voice claimed.

“Zack?” asked a voice he recognized as Anne’s. “Can you hear us?”

His jaw ached, his cheeks were bruised and swollen, but he managed to mutter the word, “Yes.”

“Oh, thank God,” Anne said.

Link was standing behind Anne. “I’m glad you got out of there okay, kid. You really could have died.”

Zack tried to sit up, but was greeted by a stabbing pain in his back. He quickly laid back down, moaning softly in pain. “Where’s Gregory?”

David sighed. “Gregory’s dead. Andrew killed him.”

“Where is Andrew?”

“We don’t know. He left a while ago.”

Zack sighed, staring weakly into space. “I want to go home.”

“You can’t go home yet,” Anne replied. “It will be a while before you can leave this place.”

“Well, that’s just great.” Zack twitched as he was struck by a pain in his mouth, he quickly decided to stop talking.

A doctor in a white coat entered the room, carrying a clipboard in his hands. “I see you’ve come to,” he said in a surprisingly deep voice. “Can you see, hear everything okay?” Zack hesitated, giving a simple shrug as though to say “sort of.” The doctor nodded his head. “That’s good to hear. You took quite a beating there. What did you say happened?”

“He was jumped by a crook,” David lied.

The doctor nodded again. “Well, you’re very lucky. There are no broken bones, no severe injuries. Just a little bed rest and you’ll be good to go. I’d say maybe a few days before we can let you leave.”

Zack groaned. Anne patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. “It’s okay, Zack. We’ll be here for you.” She coughed. “Well, maybe not twenty-four seven, but we’ll be here as often as we can.”

David nodded. “We’ll keep with you, buddy. Friends don’t leave friends behind.”

Zack forced every ounce of strength he had to muster a tiny smile, which lasted only a few seconds before the pain silenced him. David smirked, Anne giggled.

The doctor cleared his throat. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave soon, we need to—.”

“It’s okay,” David interrupted, “we have to go anyways.”

Zack watched as Anne approached and gave him a hug. He felt pain but he didn’t mind. David came up to do the same, and then the three left the room, leaving him alone. He sighed. A few days in a hospital. It can’t be that bad. He leaned his head back, staring up at the white ceiling above. Maybe a little boring.

—————————————————————————————

Spenser slammed his fists onto the table. “No, no, no! I’m tired of hearing these excuses!”

“But sir,” Reese assured him, “we are trying our best to capture the boy. You have to be patient!”

“You’re asking us to find and kill a single boy,” Mr. Lucas said, “who could be anywhere in the damn city. We’ll need more than just two days.”

“I try myself,” Spenser growled, “and I get closer than any of you.”

Lucas coughed. “But what stopped you from killing him?”

Spenser shook his head. “That woman Alexandra got between me and the boy. I had to take care of her first.”

“So you killed her?”

Spenser growled. “She got away.”

Seeing how agitated Spenser had become on the subject, Lucas decided to speak no more of it. “I see.”

Miss Short stood up from her seat. “Perhaps if we increased our efforts, we would—.”

“Yes!” Spenser slammed his fists onto the table again. “I don’t care what you do, I just want that boy dead!”

Sparrow sighed. “We will do everything within our power to get David Kohler. I just have one question.”

“It had better be a question worth my time, Sparrow.”

The man hesitated. “Never mind.”

Samuel Meyer, who watched Spenser’s complaining from his seat across the table, laughed out loud. “I can see my colleagues are too afraid of you to get anything done, Spenser.” He stared at his superior with a look of suave confidence.

Spenser stared back angrily. “What do you have to say, Meyer?”

“Not much, I just think it’s rather sad how everyone here is too frightened of you to get anything done.” He smirked. “That is, everyone except for me.”

Fists clenched, Spenser stomped around the table, pushing past Deputy Lordly, to reach Meyer. The espionage agent coolly remained in his seat, leaving Spenser fuming mad. “If you do not have something to report to me, the consequences shall be dire.”

Meyer chuckled. “Well, sir, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I do have news. Too bad, you won’t be killing me today.”

“Just tell me!”

“Yes, sir. Just let me have a sip of my coffee first.” He grabbed the cup from the table and slowly raised it to his mouth.

Before the glass could reach his lips Spenser snatched it from his hand and threw it across the room, shattering into tiny shards against the opposite wall and spraying the area with hot coffee. “No! You are going to tell me right now!”

Meyer grinned. “Yes, sir. What I have to tell you,” he said as he leaned back in his chair, “is that the Mole is returning soon tonight with more information on David.”

Spenser’s look of infuriation slowly melted away to one of calm. “Yes, that is good to hear. That son of yours is still a part of David’s inner circle?”

“Yes,” Meyer said slowly. “Link is a very resourceful young man. But I must say, he has been rather difficult to convince. He doesn’t want to lose his girlfriend’s trust.”

Spenser wiped the sweat from his brow. “Well, if that boy puts up any more of a fight, tell him we’ll kill his girlfriend.”

Meyer seemed to hesitate, but quickly smiled. “Can do, will do.” He leaned back further in his chair. “Link really does love that stupid girl, he’ll do anything to keep her safe.” He laughed. “Do you remember your first crush, sir?”

“I’ve never loved,” Spenser spat, “and I never will.”

“But what about that one woman? I do believe you were mar—.”

“Enough!” Spenser was burning mad once again. “That was a part of my past, she is dead! And soon, that boy will join her!” He slammed his fists onto the table one time more. “From now on, there is to be no discussing of that woman or anyone else affiliated with Marcus Kohler, unless it is his son David!”

Meyer smirked. “Fair enough.”

Lordly stood up from his seat. “Erm, sir? I hate to be a bother, but it’s going on seven, and this meeting is officially—.”

“—Adjourned!” Spenser finished for him, quickly turning and pushing his way out of the double doors, robes trailing behind him like the shroud of a dark phantom.

—————————————————————————————

David waved goodnight to the receptionist as he left the hospital along with Anne and Link. The three passed through a pair of automatic doors and into the bitterly cold evening air. The large clock across the street on the North Tower, duly nicknamed “Old Glory,” read a little beyond seven o’clock.

David sighed, walked casually with his hands in his pockets. Anne walked right beside Link, holding hands and leaning her head on his shoulder. She breathed silently, resting at her lover’s side. Link turned his head slightly, looking into her eyes. She looked back, smiling. No words needed to be spoken, it was clear between the two that they both had said, “I love you.”

A cold gust of air blew through the streets. David shivered, burying his hands deeper into his pockets. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Anne and Link were huddled close together. Those two are so happy together. It’s like nothing could tear them apart. He sighed. I wonder if I’ll ever find someone to love.

The night grew older with each passing minute, and the three quickly decided it was best to get to the safety of their homes. “Maybe we should get home,” Link suggested.

“That does sound like a good idea,” Anne replied.

“It does,” agreed a third voice.

The three spun around to see none other than a tall, blonde-haired woman. Alexandra smiled. “It’s getting awfully dark.”

David shook his head. “Alex… I thought you had died. What happened last night? Did you get Spenser?”

“I’m afraid not,” she said solemnly. “In fact, I barely escaped with my life.”

“How did you get away?” Anne asked.

Alexandra grinned. “I had some help from a furry little friend.” A look of profound confusion fell across the three kids’ faces. Alexandra laughed. “But how I got away isn’t important. I notice that you left Zack at the hospital. I assume he got hurt pretty bad. Not by a gang, though, I believe.”

David nodded. “It was Gregory.”

“Ah, yes. Did you finish him off?”

“Andrew did.”

“So you know where Andrew is?”

David scratched his head. “Actually, he’s gone off again. He’s been acting really weird.” He looked up at his cousin. “Over at Outlook, he said that if he told us what was really going on, ‘they’ would kill him.”

“Who are ‘they?’”

“I have no clue, he wouldn’t tell us.”

Alexandra cracked her knuckles. “I believe it’s a gang. And not just any gang, but either the Helots or the Turbs. From how you described it, I’d say it’s more likely the Turbs.”

David raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say?”

“The Turbs are known for their use of technology over conventional weaponry. They prefer stealth over brute strength.” She stared at David with a look of foreboding. “There have been cases in which the Turbs have implanted tracking devices in the brains of certain people. But that doesn’t explain how they would know when to kill him, if he did reveal to you what was going on.”

“Would they shoot him if he told? How would they know if he spilt the beans?”

“They wouldn’t shoot him, they would detonate the tracking device.” David suddenly gave a look of shock and Anne gasped out loud. “The resulting blast would kill him indefinitely, and could kill or injure anyone around him.”

David nodded. “So maybe that’s why he wouldn’t tell. They would have killed him, and maybe us in the process.”

“But it still doesn’t explain how they would know when to kill him.” She shook her head. “I used to work with the Turbs, they are ingenious as hell. Who knows, they might have come up with something new.”

David was stunned. “You… worked with the Turbs?”

Alexandra shot David a look of silent solemnity. “It was a very long time ago, and only for a short while.” She shook her head. “I didn’t really have much of a choice.”

“But if you—.”

“Let’s speak no more of it, David.” She stared down at the boy with her powerful blue eyes. David gulped, he knew it was no use arguing with her. “Now, I was just checking up on you three. David, Anne, Link.” She put a special emphasis on the last name, one that went unnoticed by all but Link, who gulped nervously. “Remember, I know everything you kids know.”

As Alexandra moved to walk away, David stopped her. “Alex… When will you tell me about my father?”

She looked away, seeming deep in consideration. Finally, she spoke, “No. Not tonight. You aren’t ready yet.”

“But you said you would tell me about him!”

“When you are ready,” she said firmly. “You are not. Were you ready today when your friend was beaten mercilessly? Were you ready last night when you were almost killed? No, you were not.” She read the insulted look in David’s eyes, quickly adding, “You will be soon enough. But not tonight.”

David sighed. “I don’t care if I’m ‘not ready,’ I just want to know what there is to know. I want to know the truth about my father.” He looked up at his cousin. “Was he really the wonderful man I remember from when I was young?”

Alexandra wore a look of reflective thinking. “He used to be a great man. I knew him very well. But he died so young, at the hands of John Spenser.”

“I want to know my father’s connections to Spenser.”

Alexandra shook her head. “When you are ready. I have to go now.” She turned back and walked away, not speaking another word to the three. She slowly disappeared into the darkness, fading away like a long-lost memory.

David sighed. “Let’s go, Anne, Link.” He began to walk off, the two lovers following close behind. Shuffling his feet against the pavement he moved down the street with his two friends.

After a long period of silence, Anne spoke. “What do you think Alexandra means when she’s talking about your father?”

“I have no idea.”

“How do you think he’s connected to the Helots?”

David grew angry. “How was he connected? I’ll tell you. Those bastards murdered him, that’s how he’s connected!”

Anne withdrew, and Link grew concerned. David quickly calmed himself down. “I’m sorry, I just don’t like it when people talk about my father. I knew him, he was a great person. I don’t see how he could be affiliated with any gang.”

“But why else would he have been on their hit list?” Anne asked.

David felt the anger swelling in him again, he silently tried to calm himself. “I don’t know. Why was your uncle on their list?”

Anne felt shocked at the mention of her uncle. “He… He was involved in their drug trafficking ring, you know that.” She sniffed. “He was a criminal, but he did it to keep his family safe from harm, he did it to protect me. Don’t you dare attack him.”

“I’m sorry,” David assured her. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I’ve heard from my dad,” Link announced, “that your father is a touchy subject when mentioned to Spenser. My father is kind of… high up in the Helot hierarchy.”

David shook his head. “Does your dad tell you much about the goings-on with the Helots?”

“Yes. But if I tell you, I could seriously get into trouble.”

“Link,” Anne said softly, “if there’s anything you know that could help us, please let us know.”

Link sighed. “I would, but if I do, and they find out, they could kill me. Or worse,” he said looking at Anne, “they could kill you.”

Anne stared at Link with a look of disbelief. “No, that’s impossible. If your father really is close with Spenser, he wouldn’t let them do that to you.”

“I wish that was the case… But my father has always valued his position in the Helots more than his family.” He choked. “He murdered my mother in cold blood. He sent my brother to his death. And he wouldn’t think twice before killing me.”

Anne gasped. “How can you live with someone like that?”

“He’s my father, he’s the only family I have. Even if I tried to leave, he’d find and kill me.”

A tear rolled down Anne’s cheek as she looked up at Link. “That’s so horrible. You’re such a wonderful person, I don’t see how you could have been born from someone like that.”

Link rubbed his eyes, as if resisting tears. “I’m a pretty horrible person too.”

“No, you’re not! You’re not at all like your father, you would never want to hurt us or do anything at all! I know you, you aren’t a horrible person.” She tightened her grip on her lover’s hand. “I love you, and I know that no matter what, you love me too.”

As hard as Link fought it, he could not help as tears fell from his eyes. “I’m so sorry, I feel so horrible.”

“Link, you haven’t ever done anything horrible to us, stop saying that!” She stared into Link’s moist eyes. “You haven’t, have you?”

Link paused, as if thinking deeply. Drops continued to fall from his eyes. “No, I haven’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Link shook his head. “Nothing. I’m sorry.”

Anne leaned her head on Link’s shoulder once more. “Don’t be, you have nothing to apologize for.”

David sighed. He worried about Anne, how close she had become to Link. Deep down inside David still didn’t trust the boy, and he was still suspicious of his ties to the Helots. He was worried that Link might be trying to use the girl. But he also felt as though the relationship could be the real thing, that Link really did love her, and all of his assumptions about him and the Helots were wrong.

He walked ahead for a short while, before he realized Anne and Link were no longer following him. He turned around, and saw them several yards away, standing on the sidewalk, looking back into the darkness. David hurried towards them. “What’s wrong?”

Anne looked frightened. “We heard something.”

“I think we’re being followed,” Link said.

David peered through the darkness, but could not see nor hear anything. He was about to tell the two that it was probably nothing, when suddenly a loud thump came from the distance. David stood still. “What the hell was that?”

“That’s it!” Anne cried. “That’s the sound we heard!”

David continued to stare into the darkness, and soon he heard another thump, exactly the same as the first. He felt his heart racing; he reached into his coat for his concealed gun. What the hell is making that noise?

Another thump was heard, followed by a grotesquely human moan. Anne clutched to Link, and David pulled out his weapon. Clearing his throat, he spoke to the figure in the darkness. “Who are you?”

There was no reply other than another thump. A dark shape was slowly becoming visible through the thick shroud of night. David was terrified, but he moved to the head of the group. “What do you want?”

The next noise was a horrific cry for help, in a voice that sounded vaguely human. “Help me.”

Anne buried her face in Link’s chest, who himself had begun to sweat. David raised his gun at the figure. “If you don’t tell us who you are, I’ll shoot.”

“Help me, please.” David did not believe what he was seeing. The shape moving towards them seemed to stagger; though it appeared human, one arm was enormous and hanging limp at the side. He saw it raise the arm into the air, and then drop it to the earth, creating a loud “thump.” David lowered his gun, fear racing through his heart. “Help me,” the thing said again.

Both Anne and Link stared in horror at the monster coming at them, holding each other close. David’s eyes were wide open, hardly accepting what they saw. He could see that the person—the thing—looked like it had once been a human. It wore an anguished look on its withered face, clothes ripped and blood-spattered. Whatever it was, it looked like something from a horror movie.

David gulped. “Who are you?”

The creature fell to its knees, still dragging itself towards the three. David was horrified as the thing got ever closer. He looked into the eyes of the being and saw a sad hopelessness which he had never seen before in anything. The creature opened its mouth as though to speak, and subsequently one of its eyeballs fell from its socket and landed on the ground. Anne began to cry, hiding her face in Link’s shirt. David’s hands were shaking, he accidentally dropped his gun. The tortured soul spoke in a horrific voice, “Paradise is among us.”

David forced the words from his lips. “What do you mean?”

The being opened its mouth once more, but its rotting jaw fell loose and dropped to the ground. David saw the inside of the thing’s mouth, the tongue hanging limp without a mouth to hold it, and he suddenly tasted vomit in the back of his throat. With great effort he kept the foul liquid down, his heart racing and stomach churning.

Link held Anne close to him, telling her not to look at it. Anne complied, her face still buried in his chest, tears soaking the shirt. The being began to shudder, as it raised its small arm towards David. From his throat he heard a horrible noise, which sounded like what he had said before. “Paradise.” Finally, the creature lost the strength to bear its own weight and fell to the ground, dead.

David was in disbelief at what had just happened. Was this an illusion? A dream? Some sort of sick joke? He felt the bitter taste at the back of his mouth again. Anne continued to cry, staring at the lifeless mound of flesh on the ground. Link could feel his heart pounding in his chest, he cleared his throat to speak. “What the hell was that?”

“I…” David didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know.”

Anne sobbed. “I want to go home.”

Link nodded in agreement. “Please, David, let’s leave right now.”

David looked down at the decaying thing on the road. He quickly turned away, and walked off towards his home for the night, Anne and Link following closely behind.

—————————————————————————————

The meeting room inside the Turb Command was bustling with noise. Members of the cabinet talked to one another, on issues regarding the gang.

The room itself was rather large, and had a futuristic feel to it. The silvery walls were dotted with monitors, showing security cameras, local news stations, and Turb propaganda, among other things. At the center of the room was a large, circular table, surrounded by oblong chairs. All but two of the seats were occupied.

Trevor sat in his chair, to the right of the two empty seats. He did not talk to anyone, he merely sat with his hands at his face. Though many at the meeting were unaware of the fact, even Trevor was not sure himself, but he knew Giorello was dead.

Powell tapped him on the shoulder. “Sir? I was wanting to ask you if the rumors are really—.”

“He’s dead,” Trevor said. “Giorello is dead.”

Powell gulped. “Do you know that for sure?”

“I know it.”

Scratching his head, Powell sighed. “I guess that means Miss Victoria is the big boss now.”

Trevor groaned. “I suppose it does.”

“There’s probably going to be a lot of changes.”

“Probably.”

“Most of them for the worse.”

“Probably.”

“I’ll bet you anything things won’t be pretty from now on.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Um, well…”

The doors at the north end of the room burst open and Victoria walked in. Her tan cheeks were reddened and tear stained. “My uncle has died,” she sobbed.

Trevor snorted, Powell looked up interestedly. “He finally collapsed in his bed from illness and passed on.” She sniffed, wiping a tear from her eye. “As you all know, it was his wish that I take over for him should something… happen.” She broke down crying.

Trevor groaned. She’s faking it, she doesn’t give a damn he’s dead. All she wanted was to be commander!

“And even though it will be hard,” she continued, “I will do my best to lead the corporation the way my uncle would have wanted it.” Slowly, she took her seat in the chair that was usually reserved for Giorello. Rubbing her face, she turned to Trevor. “Mr. Trevor, do you have the notes from Report 146?”

Soon I’ll have your head on a pike. “Yes, I do.” Trevor stood up from his seat, straightening the papers in his hands. “Report 146. Filed by J. Bronson of B-Sec. Apparently, one of the test subjects, subject AP001048, ‘Bronco,’ broke out of his containment cell and escaped into the sewers. He made it to Delta, but was eliminated by one of our teams.” He flipped the paper. “In a similar report, Report 147, test subject AP001035, ‘Hammer,’ broke out of his cell as well and escaped into the sewers. This was initially unnoticed, and by the time we found out he had already made it to the North District. We’ve sent a team out for him, but we’ve recently learned that he has expired, somewhere near the North Tower.”

A man stood up from his seat. “Were there any witnesses? We can’t let Paradise get out into the open.”

“We believe nobody has seen ‘Hammer,’ he is being disposed of as we speak.”

“But what if someone did see him?”

“Our team is doing a scan of the area. We have good reason to believe nobody was in proximity of ‘Hammer’ by the time he emerged into the streets via a subway. If anyone were to be found in the area, we would perform memory wipes.”

The man sat down in his seat just as another stood up. “What about the other one?”

“’Bronco?’ He never made it out of the sewers, nobody saw him.”

A third man stood up. “This is the exact reason why we must fortify our perimeters in the Test Sections with electrified bars! They are the only things that stop these creatures. They can break through regular iron bars, swim through moats, they can do anything short of jumping up and flying away.”

The second man cleared his throat. “Actually, some of the tests have proven that certain subjects do attain the ability to become airborne.”

The third man stared at the second with a look of apathy. “I don’t care! Hell, that makes it even more serious if any of them were to break out! What I’m trying to say is that we need to increase our protection against this sort of thing. We can’t risk the public finding out about our tests.”

“Good point, Mr. Melton.” Trevor made a slight hand motion towards the man. “You may take your seat.” The man obeyed. “Now, we have discussed the placement of electrified defenses at key locations throughout our labs, to prevent this from happening ever again. But the main thing holding us back is our funding. We already have too much invested in the Paradise project, plus the costs of maintenance, wages, bribes, all of that business, and it doesn’t leave us much to work with.”

“If funds are an issue,” Victoria said, her sorrowful façade quickly dissipating, “we could just lower worker wages.”

The second man almost swallowed his beard. “If we lower wages any further, our members, our scientists, our workers could try to quit!”

Victoria laughed. “Under my uncle’s dictation, maybe. But now that I’m in charge, let it be known that anyone involved with the Turbs shall remain so for the rest of their lives. Anyone who tries to leave will be punished duly.”

Trevor was stunned. “Y-You can’t do that! Our soldiers, our scientists, they’ll revolt!”

“No, they won’t. Anyone who wishes to do so will become new test subjects for Paradise.” She grinned. “A fate worse than death.”

“But many of our men have families! What will you tell them?”

“The same thing if a person is killed by one of the test subjects. We tell them their loved one died in the line of duty.”

Trevor shook his head. “If we lower wages any more, there will be more disgruntled workers, and therefore a higher chance of them leaking to the public our secrets!”

Victoria laughed again. “You gravely underestimate the power of a death threat.”

Trevor wanted to scream, he wanted to rip the woman’s head off, but he merely sat back down in his seat. “I suppose you are right, Miss Victoria.”

She smirked. “I always am.” Turning her attention to a separate member of the committee, she granted Trevor time to think to himself.

I have to kill her. I can’t let her drive the business I’ve worked so hard to into the ground. I’ll kill her tomorrow, for sure. He grinned. Her bloody screams for mercy will be music to my ears.

—————————————————————————————

David opened the door slowly. The room seemed to be empty. He stepped in and shut the door. Fumbling through the darkness he found a ceiling lamp above him. He pulled the switch, it flickered on.

The place he was staying at for the night was an empty hut atop one of the city’s skyscrapers. It was small, elevated, and well-hidden. It was his home, at least until he left in the morning.

The room was sparsely populated. It held only a small table, a stool, and a bed. Sighing, he sat down on the bed. There were only a couple of thin sheets to keep him warm. He snorted. That was still better than what he’d had at his former house at the South District Residence.

He yawned, rubbing his eyes. It was late, it would be nice to get some shuteye. He laid down on the bed, pulling the sheets over him. He yawned again, then turned out the light.

David felt sleepy, dreamy. His eyes were locked tight as he turned in his bed. It was rather easy to get comfortable. But something didn’t feel right to him. Something in the back of his mind was screaming at him, something didn’t seem as it should. He slowly opened his eyes.

He was in the church. He felt the bitter cold of the outside air nip at the back of his neck as the doors swung open. A line of men shrouded in black entered the room. “Can I help you?” the pastor asked.

“Where is Marcus Kohler?”

David saw his father stand up from his seat. “I-I’ll go peacefully, if you just—.”

Gunfire exploded as he watched his father die before his eyes. The gangsters fired into the pews, slaughtering innocent people. David looked about him in horror, before his mother dove onto him and pushed him to the floor. She was crying, her words almost incoherent. “I love you, David!”

He stared into his mother’s shimmering eyes, he felt like crying himself. Suddenly, his attention was drawn to the tall figure stepping over him. It was his brother.

David watched the boy, his brother Chris, leap onto one of the men. Angered, the man threw Chris against one of the wooden pews. He raised his weapon and fired, sending bullet after bullet exploding into the boy’s chest. David screamed.

He was suddenly back in bed. The gangsters were gone, his family was gone. Everything was gone.

Sitting up in his bed, he wiped the sweat from his forehead, and suddenly realized that he had tears dripping from his eyes. He could vividly remember his brother being murdered, so vividly he felt he was reliving it.

Sobbing silently, he laid back down in his bed. He hated the dreams, he wished they would just go away. It was a horrible experience, surviving the attack. He didn’t want to have to remember it every night when he closed his eyes.

Why won’t they just go away? He turned in his bed and tried to return to sleep, but the thought that his nightmares might return kept him up for most of the night.

126