The Breaking

CHAPTER Fifteen


Three miles north of Westcliffe, Colorado

An hour earlier

Cole and Lambert rode in an old Chevy hatchback they’d stolen not too long ago. Actually, Frank had stolen it. The Squam waited alongside County Road 255 until he spotted a solitary car with no others in sight. Bounding in a loping stride that forced him to lean forward and swat the ground with his hands, he caught up to it, pulled the passenger door open and climbed inside.

Although Cole felt bad for the petrified, twenty-something girl behind the wheel, he had to admit it was one of the coolest things he’d ever seen. He rushed over to the car, pulled the trembling little blonde out through her door and shoved her into the back with Lambert. “Who are you guys?” she screamed. “Please just let me go!”

“Can’t do that, darlin’,” Lambert said with a slimy grin. “What’s yer name, sweetie?”

Cole, behind the wheel and about to look in the purse he’d seen on the passenger seat, snapped his eyes up to the rearview mirror. “Lay off,” he said. “We’re just getting what we need.”

“She likes me.”

“No I . . . don’t,” the girl muttered.

“She likes the bad boys,” Lambert said. “Gangsta types. That’s what she’s thinkin’.”

According to what Cole heard, Lambert had been locked up in G7 because he was a mind reader. Judging by the look on the girl’s face, he might have struck a nerve. Even so, he told Lambert, “Just watch her. The only time you need to touch her is if she makes a wrong move.”

Lambert met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “What do you think I’m gonna do to her? Just because I’m a—”

“Spare me the hurt feelings speech and just watch her!”

“What is that . . . thing?” the girl asked. “The thing that climbed into my car.”

Frank was nowhere in sight, but Cole assumed he’d return on his own, as he had before. Instead, he concerned himself with the purse. He took most of the cash as well as a debit card, left the credit cards, and kept digging until he found the girl’s cell phone. It was a newer model, wrapped up in a hot pink case with little fake jewels glued around the portrait of a Hollywood pretty boy who’d made a living playing even prettier vampires in a cable television series. “Great,” he sighed.

“Let me go,” she demanded.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” he assured her. Tossing the purse on the seat beside him, he put the car in gear and pulled back onto the road. “We just need the car, okay?”

She nodded and wrapped her arms around herself. Lambert stayed on his side of the seat as the car picked up speed. Thanks to the DOOR AJAR light on the dash coming on, Cole knew exactly what the inmate was doing when he lunged across at her. After grabbing her arm, Lambert pulled her away from the door that now swung open. By the time Cole pulled over, Frank had run up close enough to the car to shut the door again. As soon as she saw him, the girl yelped and pressed herself against Lambert.

“See?” the inmate said. “Told ya she liked me.”

Cole twisted around and placed his arm across the back of the seat. “I know this is scary,” he said to the blonde. “We aren’t going to hurt you. Just bear with us and you’ll have a hell of a story to tell to your friends.”

“Or to the cops,” Lambert said. “Or the news. That’s what she’s thinkin’.”

“Could you always read people that easily?” Cole asked.

“Nope. Just when they ain’t guarding their brains. Young ones are easier too,” he added. “They think they’re so smart but . . . Ooooh! That’s nasty, girl!”

She scowled at him and grew pale. The combination of fear and excitement in her eyes was close to what Cole had seen on the faces of humans who’d frequented Steph’s Blood Parlor and paid for Nymar to feed on them. Apparently, being the food of supernatural predators was still what all the cool kids were doing.

“Hold on to her, Lam,” Cole said. “What’s your name, miss?”

“Brianne.”

“She don’t like bein’ called miss.”

“Yeah,” Cole said. “I figured. Okay, Brianne. Just sit tight and we’ll let you off the first place we can. Sound good?”

She didn’t say anything, but must have been thinking in some pretty colorful terms because Lambert chuckled and shook his head.

Cole kept driving south, simply because that was the easiest way to keep the prison behind them. On all sides there was nothing but flat land covered in dead grass. The air was getting crisper, as if blowing in straight from the top of the distant mountains. Frank bounded ahead of them, scouting for any policemen or roadblocks set up in response to the situation at the prison. Every so often the Squam would show up on the side of the road to wave them along. The next time he showed up, he pointed them toward another highway to avoid a pair of state troopers. Cole drove for another several miles until he caught sight of a billboard advertising a truck stop coming up. Pulling off to the side of the road, he asked, “Have you been able to read Frank?”

“Off and on,” Lambert replied. “That’s why Waylon forced me to stay so close to him for so long. He wanted to know where the rest of them lizard men were hiding.”

“Lizard men?” Brianne squeaked, as if she’d convinced herself the sight of her carjacker had been a bad dream. “Oh God.”

“Can he be trusted?”

Lambert screwed his face up into a distasteful frown, but shrugged and replied, “Hasn’t dicked us over yet.”

Since it had been a while since the last time he saw his scaly partner, Cole kept his eyes on the shoulder until the Squam bounded into view. He reached for the shotgun he’d tucked near his feet, making sure Brianne saw it as he stepped outside. “Stay put,” he told her.

She couldn’t take her eyes off the weapon as she nodded meekly.

“What’s wrong?” Frank asked as he approached the car. His eyes darted back and forth before focusing on a vehicle approaching from the other lane. He stood closer to Cole and lowered his head so anyone in that dark blue Camry couldn’t make out more than the shapes of two men standing beside the hatchback. “We can’t stop in plain sight like this.”

“I know,” Cole replied. “You’re taking this girl into those trees and keeping an eye on her.”

Frank’s brow furrowed. It would have been a menacing expression for anyone his size, but on a man covered in yellow scales with gill flaps along his nose, it was downright chilling. “I won’t kill her.”

“Damn right you won’t. I want you to keep her here while me and Lambert drive ahead to that truck stop. Give us about fifteen minutes to top off the tank and get some supplies and then point her toward the same place. It’s only about a mile walk so she should be able to make it.”

“And what if she doesn’t?” Frank asked. “A pretty girl on her own, walking on a stretch of road, she could get into trouble.”

Suddenly, Cole felt bad for bringing the shotgun along. Not only had Frank proven to be nothing but honorable this far, but he seemed more concerned for Brianne’s welfare than he himself did. “Then stick with her to make sure she gets there safely. You might want to stay out of sight, though. I think you freak her out.”

“I understand.”

Cole opened the car and settled behind the wheel. “Hand her off to Frank.”

Brianne looked outside and practically jumped into Lambert’s arms. “No. No! Please don’t!”

“Get out,” Cole demanded.

When she looked to him, Lambert said, “You heard the man, sweet stuff.”

Somehow, the endearing tone in Lambert’s voice seemed more of a motivator than the shotgun in Cole’s hands. She kicked the door open. Almost immediately Frank was there to take her hand and help her out. Resigned to her fate, Brianne sobbed to herself and shuffled away.

“How far away can you read someone?” Cole asked.

“Don’t know. Depends on if I know them or not.”

“What about her? Will you be able to read her from a mile or two down the road?”

“Hell yes. That girl’s scared shitless, and not too bright anyways. Makes for a good combo.”

“Just let me know if she gets hurt.” Grudgingly, Cole drove away. The next time he checked his rearview mirror, Frank and the blonde were already out of sight.

About two minutes later he pulled up to the farthest pump at the truck stop that had been advertised on the billboard. “Thank Christ,” Lambert said. “I gotta take a piss.”

“Hold it.”

“I can’t!”

“You’re dressed in a freaking gray jumpsuit. You know what that makes you look like? Someone who escaped from a prison!”

“Fine,” Lambert grunted as he unzipped the front of his jumpsuit and rolled down the top portion so it was gathered around his waist to reveal a sweat-stained wife beater similar to the one Frank wore. “Better?”

Cole counted up Brianne’s money. She had thirty-eight bucks and the debit card. He handed the cash to Lambert and said, “Get as much food and water as you can with this. Don’t attract attention. If there’s trouble, run for the highway and I’ll pick you up. Come to think of it, wait until I’m done pumping the gas.”

“You wanna pump somethin’?” the inmate grunted. “Then follow me into the toilet.” With that, he stuffed the cash into his waistband and headed for the main building of the truck stop.

Cole felt a tension in his belly that had nothing to do with the tendrils wrapped around his guts as he slid Brianne’s debit card through the reader on the pump. The fact that he was probably being taped by a security camera didn’t bother him, since stealing a tank of gas barely qualified as legal trouble anymore. He was more concerned that the card would be denied for some reason. It wasn’t, so he topped off the tank. By the time he was done, Lambert still hadn’t shown up. Cole couldn’t see any signs of a commotion through the front window of the truck stop, so he pulled off to another parking space and dug out the phone from where he’d tucked it away.

Before he touched a single button, he reminded himself that it wasn’t his phone. Considering what had happened, it was more than likely that the cops or somebody would be monitoring calls made on Waylon’s line. Even if they didn’t do so now, the records would be there if anyone decided to do it later.

“God damn it,” Cole grumbled as he chucked the phone out the window.

His luck changed for the better when he found three folded ones and about four more dollars in change stuffed into Brianne’s ashtray. Since Lambert still hadn’t reappeared, he walked up to a bank of three pay phones outside the building. Peeking in past a faded cardboard advertisement for Ding Dongs in the window, he saw cash registers, soda machines, snack bars, showers, a metric ton of unhealthy snack foods, and a line for the restrooms. Scraping up enough cash to make a call had been fortunate. Discovering even one of those phones to be in working order was something close to a miracle. He dialed a number from memory and got an answer right away.

“Midwestern Ectological Group, this is Stu.”

“Hey! I was hoping I wouldn’t have to get transferred a hundred times to get ahold of you.”

“Cole? Is that you?”

“Yep.” Before he could say another word, the connection crackled and there were several clicks that made him wonder if he’d been disconnected. Since his legal troubles were extraordinary even for a member of a group with rampant issues at the moment, it could also have been a new MEG policy where Skinners were concerned.

When Stu’s voice returned, it was a little tinnier, but twice as excited. “Can you hear me okay?”

“Yes.”

“I’m using some new equipment that should make certain nobody’s listening in on us.”

“Are your phone lines being tapped?” Cole asked.

“I don’t know, but with all that’s been going on, we figured a little extra security wouldn’t hurt. Where the hell are you, man?”

“Did you hear about what happened in Colorado?”

“Of course I heard!” Stu said. “It’s all over the news! When they’re not showing clips of those two things running away from all that wreckage, they’re comparing it to archive footage from K.C. The video is still coming in. It’s shaky and doesn’t really show a lot as far as those creatures are concerned, but the online footage is impressive. I don’t know who leaked it, but it’s like a damn movie! Cops are shooting and running around a bunch of trashed cars, with the prison walls crumbling behind them and those two big guys just turn into some kind of four-legged bear things and jump completely out of the frame. Epic!”

Cole couldn’t exactly hold it against Stu for getting so excited. Considering the MEG guys spent most of their time sifting through black and white footage of empty rooms or surveillance videos of supposed Bigfoot sightings, actual recordings of werewolves fleeing the scene of a major attack was bigger than a jackpot. It was hitting the cryptozoological Power Ball.

“Is that all the video there was?” Cole asked. “Just those two running away?”

Stu’s voice dropped as if he was on the razor’s edge of squealing with glee. “Do you have anything else for us? I mean, you were there in the middle of it, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I knew that wasn’t you wrapped up in that trial!”

“What trial?” Cole asked as a new urgency rushed through him.

“The trial in the news. There’s reports of you being put on trial for what happened to those cops, but no footage. Just a lot of talk about court dates, testimony, and you being held in federal custody until you’re put in front of a judge. That’s all crap, though, right?”

“Look,” Cole said impatiently, “whatever’s on the news, whatever’s on the Internet, whatever’s being gossiped about or shown on TV, it just doesn’t matter anymore. I need a favor.”

“Wait a second. If you’re not in prison and you’re not surrounded by cops, does that mean you’re running from those things that were on TV? Were those Full Bloods?”

“No, I’m not in prison, and yes, those were Full Bloods.” Before Stu launched into an overexcited meltdown, Cole asked, “Do you know where Paige is?”

“Oh! I just talked to her! She’s in Oklahoma! That’s a whole other story! Wait’ll you hear this!”

Cole looked inside for Lambert and found him sniffing around the snack food aisle. “No time for stories,” he said. “I need to get in touch with some Skinners in the area, and since Paige isn’t nearby, I need someone who’s close and can get to me real fast. Can you do this now or should I give you some time?”

“I can call three more people, balance my checkbook, and play some War Mutant co-op online while talking to you.”

“War Mutant?” Cole scoffed. “You’re into that game? I thought you had taste.”

“Just because it’s not from Digital Dreamers doesn’t mean it’s bad. Besides, the new patch they just released fixed a lot of those matchmaking issues.”

More than once Cole had entertained the idea of going back to Seattle and trying to reclaim his position at Digital Dreamers, Inc. After all that had happened recently, he’d be lucky if Jason would ever talk to him again. For now, he could only indulge in some quick geeky banter. Suddenly, even that felt strange. It was like putting on an old skin. Those things never fit right and they all stank after being left alone for too long.

As always, Stu had a knack for keeping Cole on his toes. “Did you escape from prison?”

Deciding it would save time if he didn’t attempt to deflect that question, Cole said, “Yeah.”

“That’s so freaking cool! All right. Let me see here.” From the other end of the digital connection came the tapping of frantic fingers on a keyboard. Every now and then Stu would mutter to himself, but Cole didn’t interrupt the process. Before too long Stu declared, “Found a few that might be what you’re after. There’s someone named Maddy. Last time she checked in, she’d just flown into Arizona from Jersey.”

“Who else? Someone in Colorado or close to it.”

“There’s some guys who used to work out of Kansas, but they dropped off the grid years ago.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Just what I said,” Stu replied. “Not all of you guys report in regularly. Some are real jerks. I don’t think they trust us. Anyway, those guys from Kansas aren’t a very safe bet but Jessup is usually pretty reliable.”

“Jessup? I think I met him in Philly.”

“That’s the one! He went out there to get what he could from all of that Lancroft loot.” After a few more taps Stu added, “Looks like Jessup isn’t available or he’s outside of coverage. Could be his phone is off. If you’ve got stuff to do, I can keep trying and let him know you’re looking.”

“Can you connect me to Paige?” he asked.

“Sure, hang on.” After a few seconds Stu returned to say, “Voice mail.”

“Call right back. Maybe she’ll pick up this time.” That was the same trick he had used to get his parents to pick up the phone after they bought their first answering machine.

“I’ll dial again,” Stu said hesitantly, “but I don’t . . . Wait. Someone picked up. Hang on.”

Sometimes, even in the era of Smartphones and caller ID, the old tricks were still the best ones.

“Cole!” Paige said excitedly. “Where the hell are you?”

“I’m in Colorado, heading south on Highway 69.”

Lambert stepped up to Cole, tapped him on the shoulder and said “The best place to be when you’re f*cked. Heh heh.” When Cole snapped around to look at him, the inmate added, “You know. F*cked . . . sixty-nine. I got the snacks and some clothes.” Holding up a bag containing a few Broncos T-shirts, he added, “Clearance sale.”

“Hey!” Paige snapped. “Remember me?”

“Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Who’s with you?”

“Long story,” Cole sighed. “Before I start in on that, I want to know who you handed me over to.”

She paused for several heartbeats, and when she spoke again, it was in a voice as quiet as it was tender. Knowing Paige as well as he did, Cole had no doubt the former was to cover up the latter. “I was looking for help while all of that garbage went down with the Nymar. I had to find someone to take some of the pressure off of us because we were getting set up for killing those cops, and I wound up talking to a guy named Adderson. He runs a group that’s pulled together from police, feds, and some other law enforcement and media people. They’re called the Inhuman Response Division. Bob Stanze hooked me up with them and they seem to know their stuff. There’s not enough time to explain it all, but the IRD wants to prepare an armed strike force to be used against Nymar, shapeshifters, and all the other things that have been tearing up every other city lately. I wasn’t sure about it, but Adderson said he already had a team working on curing Nymar. After almost losing you to that Shadow Spore, I couldn’t pass on a chance to get you fixed up.”

Listening to Paige, Cole felt ashamed for all of the terrible things he’d wished upon her when he was in custody or getting beaten to within an inch of his life.

“Adderson believes Skinners weren’t killing cops,” she continued. “He was supposed to get you out of prison and to someplace where you might get cured. If someone was needed to take the fall for those cop killings to put all of that shit to rest, I was going to be the one. Please believe that, Cole. After I almost—”

Rather than make her relive those moments when she’d thought her only choice was to kill him before he became a full Nymar, Cole said, “I believe you.”

“What happened in prison?” Paige asked. “Why were you moved from Canon City?”

“That’s another long story,” he said.

“Did they cure you?”

“The guys running that place did cut me open. I think they honestly tried to get the tendrils out, but they didn’t succeed.”

“Damn,” Paige sighed.

“They’re also not who you think they are, Paige. I don’t know if they’re the same ones you talked to or someone else, but I wound up in some place run by followers of Jonah Lancroft. They used runes to hide themselves and were ready to cut me to pieces to learn whatever they could.”

She pulled in a deep breath. When Paige spoke again, her voice was cold steel. “What did they do to you?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Tell me, God damn it!”

“The place is leveled, Paige. Two Full Bloods got to it and tore it down. One of them was Mr. Burkis. Do you think this Adderson guy knew what was going to happen?”

“No,” she said, with some measure of relief in her voice. “I honestly don’t. He knew you were taken from the prison in Canon City and was trying to get me to tell him anything I knew about where you’d gone. I seriously don’t think he knew where you were.”

“Are they Skinners?”

“The IRD?”

“Yeah,” Cole said as he looked around. The fact that he’d wound up talking longer than he’d expected, combined with the subject matter, was making him increasingly uncomfortable standing in front of a busy door at a public truck stop. “Are those guys Skinners?”

“No. They barely know the first thing about us, but are plenty eager to learn.”

“Well, the guys who held me at the other prison were Skinners. Old school Skinners who knew about the runes. Do you know about a group of Lancroft disciples who have the balls to take over that prison?”

“Holy shit,” Paige breathed. The more she spoke, the faster Paige’s words came out. “I do. Oh my God, Cole, and I handed you over to them. Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” It didn’t take her long to collect herself and switch back into business mode. “Do you know about what’s going on in Oklahoma?”

“Stu mentioned something. Sounds serious.”

“I’m in the middle of it.”

“Just you?” he asked.

“No. Me and some of our European friends.”

“How bad is it?”

“Bad,” she told him. “Looks like this whole town is swarming with Half Breeds. There are at least two Full Bloods here and one of them is Liam. That shapeshifter we met in Denver is there too. The one the Amriany call Ktseena.”

Lambert was already in the car and they were quickly approaching Frank’s fifteen minute deadline. “I need to find Rico. He’s got my weapon.”

“Don’t contact him.” After giving him a brief rundown about what happened in Toronto, she said, “I don’t know if he’s still thinking he should kill me, but I think it’s safe to say he’s with the Vigilant. Do you know who they are?”

“I’ve heard that name before, but don’t know a lot of details.”

“They’re some kind of Lancroft cult. Lots of Skinners looked up to that old man, and many still do. Just don’t contact Rico, okay? And don’t send word to MEG about where you are. There’s no telling if or how far the Vigilant have infiltrated them.”

When Paige stopped, there was only silence on the line.

He prayed she couldn’t sense the tension that had clenched his eyes shut or caused his lips to form silent obscenities.

“Cole? You didn’t already call MEG, did you?”

“Maybe.”

Instead of the unholy tirade he’d expected, she only took a long, measured breath before saying, “We’re on our own now. Don’t call MEG again. Don’t go anywhere you’ve used as a home base before. The Full Bloods are converging here for some reason, and I don’t know how many more will be coming. There’s already one that I’ve never seen before.”

“Have you heard them talking about something called the Breaking Moon?”

Paige chuckled into the phone. Although her breath made a scratchy bit of static as it hit her speaker, he savored the moment as much as he could. It was the closest thing to touching her that he could hope for.

“All they’re talking about out here,” she told him, “is how badly they want to rip us up. One of the new Full Bloods did mention the Breaking. She told me to enjoy mine. Since it was after she tore the hell out of me, I’m guessing it could be what they call transforming someone into a Half Breed.”

“Shit!”

“Don’t worry,” she said before he could get even more worked up. “I’m getting patched up right now. Our Euro pals brought supplies we needed, and by the look of things, the stuff works faster than what we whip up. I’ll have to get the recipe.”

Cole couldn’t understand the language that drifted in from somewhere beyond Paige, but it had the same feel as the Amriany dialect. Judging by the venom in the woman’s tone, she wasn’t too anxious to swap medical tips with a Skinner. “I should get going,” Paige said. “Lots of work to do. Do you think Tristan will follow through on her promise to help transport you somewhere safe if you needed it?”

“That was before the legal trouble, but I may be able to wrangle something. She does owe us big-time.”

“You’re damn right she does,” she snapped. “Call her and set something up if you can. If not, just try to get someplace where you can stay alive.”

“No!” The word came out of him as if it had been squeezed up from his ankles. He winced at how much noise he’d made, but continued in a determined whisper. “This is my fight too, remember?”

“You’ve been through more than anyone. I made the mistake of trusting someone too soon and nearly lost you. I thought you were dead,” she stated in her steely tone. “I won’t hand you over again.”

“I was unconscious most of the time,” Cole said with a forced, unconvincing chuckle. “From what I’ve heard about prison life, that’s a good way to go. Randolph told me some things.”

“Randolph, huh?” Paige grunted. “No more Mr. Burkis?”

“That’s one of his names, and I’m sticking to it, okay?” In a strange way, squabbling with her again made Cole feel better than any amount of food he could smell whenever someone opened the door to the truck stop. It filled him up, heart and soul. Knowing better than to get that corny with her, he said, “You’ve got your thing going on in Oklahoma and there’s something going on here as well. Since they’ve both got Full Bloods attached to them, I think our things are connected.”

“Insert dirty joke here,” Paige said. “Before I let you go, I think we should consider something.”

“What?”

“That we may need all the help we can get,” Paige said with a wince Cole could feel through the phone line. “Lancroft worshippers or not.”

Cole ground his teeth together hard enough that he thought the sound might have carried through the phone line.

“If these guys are all like the ones that took me from Canon City,” he said, “they pride themselves on being the ultimate Skinners or something. They were getting slaughtered when I left that place.”

“But they’ve got to be preparing something against what’s happening. At the very least, they’ve got more people to stand against these things.”

“Cannon fodder,” he said. “I like the sound of that. Too bad Rico’s still got my weapon.”

“You can make a new one. Are you okay?”

The change in her voice was subtle, but Cole picked up on it without a problem. For Paige, the absence of that edge to her tone was no small thing. “I’m better now that I’m out of that prison. What about you?”

“In the middle of a freaking meat grinder. Don’t know if I’ll live to see the next hour. Same as always.”

“Good to hear it,” he said with a tired laugh. “I’ll call you when I can.”

“Ring once and hang up, then call me right back. That way I’ll know it’s you.”

“Old school. My grandma used that one for us to let her know we got home safe after Christmas.”

“Mine too. Just sit tight, baby.”

Cole was still recoiling from that last word when the connection was cut. Did Paige just call him baby or was something garbled along the line between Colorado and Oklahoma? Unable to think of any profanities that would have fit at the end of her sentence that could have been mistaken for “baby,” he hung up and hurried to the car.

“Can you still read that girl?” he asked Lambert.

“Yeah. She’s by herself and thinking of all the nasty things she wants to do to our balls with a hammer. Other than that, she’s fine.”

“I’m circling back to make sure she’s all right, then we’re getting out of here.”

“Any way I can convince you to just drive before we’re spotted or picked up?”

“Nope,” Cole replied. “Buckle up.”