“Yes, I see,” Evan rubbed his brows with his gloved hands in worried frustration. Realizing he was still wearing his gloves, he pulled them off, one folded into the other, just the way his mother taught him to do all those years ago in her lab on the ranch. That life felt very far away now; so innocent.
“I would need about five hours,” Evan said looking up at the wall clock and estimated the necessary samples, procedures and calculations to make the serum from scratch. “The product should be exactly what was given to us since I’m using our own blueprint to recreate it, though you have to appreciate that I wouldn’t have time to test it,” his voice slipped. “And we don’t have room for any errors.”
“Your calculations are always right, Ev. I’ll help you,” Margo stepped closer to her son and gave him a big hug. “Meggie needs us to come up with something. And though those doctors who work for Williams are on the wrong team, Creed is right. They are the greatest scientific minds specialized in metahumans on Earth, and your sister is running out of time.”
“I know mom. I’ll get you that serum,” Evan said before squeezing her gently once and letting her give him a mom-kiss on the cheek.
“Have I ever told you how proud of you I am?” Margo smiled up at her little boy.
Evan smiled back and said, “All the time, lady.”
He was exhausted, but he would find the energy it took to keep his promise to his mother.
29 The Spider and the Fly
“Tell me you’ve made contact,” the Director’s voice was tight with anger.
“I have done much more than that, sir,” Creed smiled into the phone, imagining the old man’s pleased facial expression.
“What do you mean?”
“The female has been given the ‘gift’ as planned, and I hand-delivered her to her family. I’ve gained their trust; I even sat at their kitchen table and ate a turkey sandwich with them! They think I’ve turned against you, just as we planned. The female meta’s condition is worsening, and they’re getting desperate,” Creed surmised.
“Excellent. Yes, you have done well. Your family will be proud to hear how resourceful and successful you’ve become,” Dr. Williams said, dangling that carrot in front of the young meta soldier. “Have you proposed they seek help from me?” Williams asked loving the anguish that suggestion must have caused his old friend Margo Winter.
“Yes sir, and though they summarily dismissed the option at first, I know they’re thinking about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if by morning they have a change of heart,” Creed’s voice was intentionally devoid of feeling. “By the way, they’ve invited me to stay at the guest house on their estate.”
“My, you have been welcomed into the fold!” Williams laughed.
“Yes, I have. Sir, the female meta, Meg—her condition does look very precarious. The ‘gift’ we gave her, it isn’t going to do lasting damage, is it?” Creed asked, aware his feelings for the girl were at direct odds with his directive and may be showing right through.
“Lasting damage? Well, if you consider death, lasting damage, then yes. I’d say she is in very real peril,” Williams snickered into the phone.
Alarmed at how quickly Williams could knock the air out of his lungs with just these few words, Creed blurted, “Sir, that wasn’t the agreement. You told me the illness was only for show and she could be cured quickly and easily.”
“She can be cured quickly and easily—once you bring her here, Mr. Young.” Any pleasantries the doctor’s voice hinted to before were gone now. “Bring the metahumans to me and kill Margo Winter. That’s all you have to do, and everything will fall into place,” he summarized.
Creed clenched his jaw. He hated working for this snake and was counting the seconds until he would be free of him. “Yes, sir.”
Creed was just hoping the work Williams was requiring of him before he was given the information to find his biological family wouldn’t leave him permanently scarred and jaded.
“Call me when the family is ready to make negotiations,” Williams said curtly and hung up.
Creed mumbled into the disconnected phone words that made him feel better for saying, but had no bearing on his current situation. He was still at the mercy of Williams if he wanted a chance to lead a normal life.
He sat heavily on the edge of the hotel room bed. The tacky, green, floral print on polyester bedspread stared back at him with mutual contempt. This all felt so wrong. Now that he’d stepped across that line by allowing Farrow to dose Meg with an obviously deadly unknown toxin, the reality of his actions was stinging hornets to his heart. Nothing about what Williams was telling him to do felt like it was going to be worth it.
And what assurances did he have that Williams was going to follow through with his end of the bargain? Even if he did know his parent’s contact information, why would Williams give it to him? Or was he just going to keep stringing him along, always with one more loathsome task for Creed to complete?