Oblivion Read online

  “I can’t always tell my own emotions from other people’s,” I admitted softly. “When I was with Hunter, I felt more aggressive and powerful. Once Jason showed up, I was panicked.”

  “You can tell every time we doubt you, can’t you?” Alice asked. Shame flowed from her in waves, and I doubted I was the only one who could tell.

  Nodding once, I added, “When I lost it with Hunter, I knew Jason was in trouble. My big brother. My hero. He had fallen. The only way I could think to help him was to make Hunter feel everything I felt.”

  Mark whistled. “That’s a lot of emotion to pile into a sociopath, kid.”

  My mouth quirked. “I know. I hoped it would slow him down until we could get to them. I never thought…” My voice caught. I had killed him.

  “You and Jason are more alike than you realize.” Hannah pulled me in for a hug, tears glistening in her eyes. “You never want to admit when you’re hurting.”

  Sniffling, I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. “What can you do to help us?” I aimed the question at Kindred. “Berating me for a loss of control will not help get Jason back.”

  Pulling away from Hannah a bit, I spoke again. “Jason would do everything in his power to save me. In fact, he already did when he confronted Hunter. He may not want me to go down the same path, but how could I do any less? It’s my fault he’s in this situation.” I held up my hand to stall any arguments. “Don’t. I know it’s the truth.”

  I met each of my friend’s eyes as I made my promise. “If it is the last thing I do, I will find my brother and save him.”

  FOURTEEN

  Jason

  I felt the restraints before I was fully awake. The leather rubbed at my already raw wrists, and I wanted to disappear the way my companion had. In all the loss of life, I barely felt his movements. Then he was gone. Nothing indicated he had ever been here, except for the fact that I could feel fewer guards on patrol.

  My head throbbed, and a groan slipped out. All I wanted to do was sleep for a week. And rub my head to soothe the ache. The other person in the room with me guaranteed I wouldn’t be able to continue sleeping. And I obviously wouldn’t be allowed the freedom needed to give myself a head massage.

  I had no desire to face anyone after discovering what I could do. The power that took over everything and could not be controlled.

  Was this the ability the Doctor wanted? Nothing about it seemed good. There was so much destruction in such a short time, and nothing I could do about it.

  Obviously my crazy ability was triggered by extreme emotions. Jeremiah… he was a killer. How could I be associated with such a person?

  Voices startled me as bits of conversation floated in from outside the door, “…incredible. …never seen. …how many?”

  Pulling at the restraints, I cringed. As far as I knew they had no reason to connect me with what Jeremiah did. They quite possibly would have no idea what had caused the power to explode.

  The door cracked open, and the Doctor walked in. He ignored the guard in the corner of the room and spoke to me.

  “Jason,” his voice was clipped, and my body tensed in response. “You did a lot of damage. Care to tell me what you hoped to accomplish?”

  Mouth suddenly dry, I swallowed a couple times. The Doctor was staring at me, his gaze unwavering, and his jaw clenched. “I…”

  “What? Spit it out. We were only about to do some mild testing, and you destroyed the entire courtyard. I’ve been told there was some damage done to our building as well.”

  Words refused to come. Letting the Doctor know I could feel the heartbeats of his people as they were being slaughtered didn’t seem wise. Telling him what I could do—especially when I didn’t know exactly what I could do—also didn’t seem like a good idea.

  However, acting as though I was cooperating could work to my advantage. “I was trying to distract you so I could escape.” With a bitter laugh only partially faked I added, “Apparently, not my best idea.”

  Sneering, he replied, “Putting it mildly, no. Not your best idea. The Boss wants to see you punished for the damage you did, and honestly? I don’t see a good reason not to let him.”

  From the look in his eyes, there was no good response to give, so I didn’t even attempt to protect myself. “Nothing to say? Perhaps I’ll leave you to think about what the Boss will do to you. We’ll pick up the testing again tomorrow, and I hope your attitude has improved by then.”

  He turned to leave, and I found myself asking in a low voice, “Who are you people?”

  Pausing for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob, he answered, “That’s a long story, kid. And one that won’t help you in any way.”

  I opened my mouth, wanting to follow up. To say that of course it would help to know who was holding me captive. But something about how he said it made me hesitant to push the subject. The Doctor waited a few seconds as if waiting for me to ask again, but then walked out.

  Great. Now I had nothing left to think about besides what the Boss had in mind as a punishment. And the fact that the one person I knew in this world—besides those holding me prisoner—was apparently a cold-blooded killer.

  Jeremiah, the Boss, the Doctor, some kid called Oblivion, and a little brother I don’t remember. These are the people who make up my world right now, and at least three of them are untrustworthy. Jeremiah’s opinion of Oblivion I took with a grain of salt. His actions were horrific, so how could he judge another person’s trustworthiness?

  As far as I could tell, Jeremiah would still be my best chance to get out of here. He had promised to come back. An occurrence I both dreaded and desired. What could such a person want with me? How had this killer become a part of my life? All I knew was he was my most likely rescuer.

  Unless I could get a handle on my powers; if I could access them purposefully, maybe I could actually make a legitimate escape attempt. Obviously they were unprepared for the extent of my abilities, so directing them to protect me as I made my escape could work.

  Of course if my plan worked, I would still have nowhere to go. As far as I knew, this was the only building in the area, and I would have to walk miles to get anywhere.

  But the vibrations travelling through the ground told me there was likely some sort of traffic. Maybe I could find someone to help. Someone who wasn’t a psycho killer. But would that be safe for them? The people here clearly wanted me as their prisoner. I couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t harm someone for attempting to help me.

  There was also the thing they injected into my arm. How could I get it out of me? Anywhere I went, they’d be able to follow unless it was removed.

  I settled back onto the thin pillow with a heavy sigh. What could I do? The only person I know by a real name is a killer. The other two are the ones who kidnapped me, and threatened to hurt me if I didn’t follow their agenda. If I managed to escape, I could go to the authorities. One thing stopped my train of thought; if the only man I know is a killer, what does that say about me?

  FIFTEEN

  Jeremiah

  The child scared me. It is embarrassing to admit, but is true nonetheless. The Tracker’s little brother—the kid I had always dismissed as unimportant and uninteresting—ended up being the one I feared. His threats worried me, and I wondered how much was my own emotion, and how much was pumped up by his power to make the fear sink in.

  Even knowing the kid’s abilities did not allow me to protect myself from them. I have some mental shields in place, but the only time I’ve had to use them was to push Sam out of my head. It worked at that point, but I had no guarantee I could prevent more subtle prodding at my emotions. I was envious of Jason’s mental shields. Although they too were unable to protect him from his brother’s power.

  The brothers were definitely an interesting pair. Jason had helped me, and managed to make me want to change. For the last two years I hadn’t harmed a single person. Instead, I chose to help them. It surprised me to realize that I actually enjoyed using my
powers to aid others instead of plotting ways to harm them. All of the changes I made since meeting Jason were made with no adjustment in my attitude by anyone but myself.

  Sam so far had no thought of trusting me, and he had harmed his brother more severely than I ever did. How would the child react to seeing a blank look on Jason’s face instead of happy recognition? Would he be able to contain his own emotional turmoil enough to not push the excess onto someone else?

  “What kind of energy would you need to use to make everyone in that building see what you want them to see?” Detective Farrow asked from behind me.

  “It would take enough energy that I don’t believe I would be able to help in any other way. There are too many people to fool for long, and I would have to constantly change things to hide whoever goes in to get him,” I answered. “And I wouldn’t be able to guarantee that I could hold the illusion for long.”

  “Long enough for Jason to escape on his own?” she asked hopefully.

  I nodded thoughtfully, “Potentially. If he was already free of his restraints, I could tell him when to move and he could make it out.”

  The kid came and stood beside the detective. “So it would be worth a try then?” he asked, hope just as obvious in his voice as in the woman’s.

  “We may not be able to try right away,” I warned. “After Jason’s loss of control earlier, they won’t trust him unrestrained for a while. They may not even take him out of his room, and he won’t be able to get out unaided.”

  “Can you sneak one of us in? You managed to stay hidden for a while, right? So we know it can be done.”

  “It would add to the risk, detective. I’m not certain I can, nor am I completely sure I can’t.”

  Rolling her eyes at my response, the detective spoke slowly. “Are you willing to try?”

  “Something tells me you won’t take no for an answer,” I answered wryly. “Yes. I will try. Who will be going in?”

  She tapped her finger against the side of her leg thoughtfully. “You can direct us to the room Jason is in, right? So it won’t matter who goes in?”

  “Correct.”

  “It will be either Mark or I.”

  The kid opened his mouth, most likely to protest, but I answered, “I agree. Sam should remain with me and monitor the emotions of everyone in the building. And Jason’s too. Keep in mind, detective, he will not remember you, or Agent Jones.”

  “So he won’t be ready to trust us, right?”

  Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably and I narrowed my eyes at him, not willing to excuse what he’d done. “Correct,” I bit out, my gaze not moving from the boy’s pale face.

  “He’s still Jason.” Sam’s voice was soft. “He’ll still be able to tell if you’re being honest about wanting to help him. None of his abilities are gone; he just doesn’t remember how to make them all work.”

  “So how…?”

  “Hey, what’s going on out here?” the federal cop asked, coming up behind the detective.

  “We’re discussing options for retrieving the Tracker,” I answered brusquely.

  The other man glanced between Sam and me, his own eyes narrowing suspiciously. “And what are we deciding?”

  I gestured to the detective to answer her… boyfriend’s question.

  She huffed a bit before explaining what we’d been discussing. “And, to finish my question, how will he know to access our heartbeats to tell if we’re being honest?”

  Raising his hand slightly, Agent Jones answered, “He can’t help it.” In response to our questioning gazes, he continued, “He told me once that it was an ability he couldn’t control. That he couldn’t help but monitor people’s heart rates, especially if they were near him. Honestly, I think he expected me to get mad at him for it or something.”

  “He would,” Sam muttered softly. “With our father… I never got it as bad as Jase. Never was sure why…” he shook himself and returned to the topic at hand. “No matter what happened, our father made it our fault. I wasn’t with him long, but it still sunk in a bit. Jason was with him, on his own, for years.”

  No one spoke for several seconds. Every one of the people in this room wished they could make the man pay. And he was only one of the people who’d affected Jason. I smirked a bit. Unlike the others in the room, I had managed to get rid of the worst offender. Despite his lack of appreciation, I still got satisfaction from removing Jason’s father as a threat.

  The two law enforcement officers looked at me and exchanged a glance. I grinned at their obvious discomfort, knowing the self-satisfied grin had upset them. “You know it was necessary for him to move on,” I told them.

  Their disapproval rolled off them in waves I could almost feel. It made me wonder what the strong emotion would feel like to the kid. I turned toward him to ask, but he wasn’t paying attention to us anymore.

  “Something is changing.” Sam… no… Oblivion, I corrected upon seeing his faraway gaze, spoke hesitantly.

  Detective Farrow and Agent Jones stopped glaring at me, and instead focused on the boy.

  “What’s happening, Sammy?” the detective asked. Despite her wariness about the boy’s powers, she was definitely ready to use them as a resource. It was similar to how she’d once used Jason’s abilities.

  I wondered sometimes how Jason felt about being used in such a way.

  My musings were interrupted when Oblivion answered the detective in a slightly dreamy tone. “Jason has been terrified, but now he’s more… I don’t know, determined, I think. He might be planning something.”

  His eyes snapped up to meet mine, suddenly right back with us. “We have to move before he does, or we may not be able to find him again.”

  SIXTEEN

  Sam

  Facing off with Kindred was not what I had in mind for the evening—although it may end up being more useful than my initial plan of sitting around uselessly trying to interpret my brother’s emotions.

  Frustration was the main one I felt now, both from myself and from Jason. Apparently, his attempt to plan an escape—or whatever he was actually doing—was not going as smoothly as he wanted. My frustration came from the assassin’s clear desire to wait until the situation was better known before going in to get Jason.

  Concern was another emotion coming through loud and clear. It was mostly directed at me by Hannah and Alice. They had become concerned when I first approached the assassin, and it had only grown when I actively threatened him.

  My mouth twitched in discomfort at the thought of worrying the people who were like family to me, but I had no better course of action than to tell Kindred… Jeremiah—whatever he wanted to call himself—what would happen if he attempted to keep my brother from me.

  Would I follow through on my threats? For the answer they only needed to look back and remember what happened to Hunter. Threatening me or my brother is not conducive to long term mental health. Physical health either, I mused. Jason has caused his share of damage to prove coming for us is a bad idea. Too bad the criminals haven’t gotten the memo yet, that coming for us is a bad idea.

  Of course, I’d also felt the disgust and disapproval from both Alice and Mark that was aimed at Kindred. The man had killed my father. In some ways I was glad. He had deserved to die for everything he put Jason through. I also had to admit that it was nice to not have to look over our shoulders for the guy. His obsessive desire to get Jason back had scared me for a long time. I had always been worried I would lose my brother to my father, and be powerless to get him back.

  Now my brother was gone. It wasn’t my father who had him, but the powerless feeling was threatening to overwhelm me. This group would not hurt my brother. I had to push the others into getting him back.

  Alice’s voice suddenly raised, and for the first time I realized she was on the phone.

  “How long ago?” she asked. After a moment’s pause she sighed. “Dan, how did he even know where we are?”

  “What’s going on?” I asked Hannah quietly.


  She shrugged, and we were resigned to waiting until Alice hung up.

  “Fine. Thanks for the heads up. We’ll see him when he gets here.” Alice hung up with an irritated huff.

  She looked at the rest of us, realizing we’d all gone silent and were staring at her expectantly. Sighing, she put her phone away and brushed some hair out of her face. “Paul is on his way here,” she explained.

  My eye brow furrowed and my eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “From what he told Dan he was sick of not being able to help. He and the other kids are your family too, and he says he wants to be here for you and to help find Jason.”

  Hannah shifted uncomfortably and I felt the discomfort rolling off her in waves.

  “You called him,” I said.

  “Yeah. Before I came out here to see you guys I told him I would keep him updated. He made me promise.”

  Alice glared at her sister. “You try talking Paul out of something,” Hannah snapped defensively.

  Rolling her eyes slightly, Alice relented. “You may have a point.”

  Apparently satisfied, Hannah nodded and took a step back.

  Paul coming would be a good thing. He was always like a big brother to me, and helped me whenever Jason wasn’t around. The last couple years without Paul and the others had been hard. Jason and I lived with them on the streets for years, so to be suddenly separated was difficult to get used to.

  My honorary big brother would be angry. We left him. Something Jason promised he would never do. Paul would take Jason being in trouble personally. He was already plenty upset by the fact that my brother hadn’t called him when Hunter took me. I should have known he would fight to be here now that his protector and mentor was missing.

  “What about Ginny and Jeffrey?” I asked. “Do they know what’s going on?

  Hannah answered, “I filled them in a bit. They basically know what happened with Hunter and that Jason is missing.”