And one by one, each of my arms and legs become weapons. I test the grip of the gun attached to my right thigh. It crackles and snaps into my hand and when I look down the sight, I picture the Blue Boar’s head.
We’ve been building towards this transformation for almost a decade. Case has been here for the planning and Thomas filled the funding gaps. Running a high-tech lab in a cave is no small thing. And even though I’m the only one who went through with the procedure, we were all ready and we were all scared.
“It worked,” I finally say.
“It worked,” they repeat together.
“We’re gonna kill that motherfucker and take his whole company down with him. Load my bike on to the helicopter.”
I walk over to the new weapons hanging on the far wall. Sheila has been a very busy girl while I’ve been under. I grab a modified rocket launcher, some poison and hallucinogenic grenades, and vector bullets that will deliver the biological agent through the tip of a dart with so much force, it can pierce body armor.
The whole place becomes a frenzy of preparation as I use my new computer interface to access the databases in Cathedral City. I know that Sheila looked, but let’s be real. She’s not SuperAlpha Lincoln.
I find what I’m looking for just as Thomas indicates that the helicopter is ready, and I am not surprised to find that the Blue Castle has been using six hundred times their normal amount of energy in the top few floors of the spire.
“He’s got her up there,” I say to my brothers, pointing at the spire in a web feed of Cathedral City. “He’s changing her.”
“Into Omega,” Thomas says. “I always knew he would.”
I look over at Thomas and a few things about his behavior over the years start to add up. “What are you gonna do?”
“Proceed as planned.” He looks over at Case and me. “You do your jobs, I’ll do my job, and we’ll meet at the top.”
“Don’t fuck it up, dude.”
Thomas shoots me a smile. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for this moment.”
The ceiling opens up, just as Sheila gets the ’copter running. Thomas pushes the bike up the ramp and secures it in the cargo area, and I follow him in. Case sits in the pilot’s seat even though Sheila will be in control once we reach city airspace, and Thomas shrugs a black pack over his jacket and vest.
I sit back in my seat and imagine how fucking good it will be to finally end this shit once and for all. Case lifts us up into the night sky and then the underground bunker closes back up, sealing my cave from the world.
I’m coming for you, Old Man. Can you feel me?
As soon as we clear the mountains the crystal spire beckons to us. It’s lit up from the inside. And I know, no matter what happens, this is the end of something.
“He made us,” I say over the intercom. “And he’s gonna live to regret that.”
I can see Case’s reflection in the windshield as he pilots the ’copter. “Let’s go hunt us some boar,” he says.
“We’re in this till the end,” Thomas says. “And if we go down tonight, we’re going down together.”
Chapter Forty-Nine - Molly
“Omega Three, open your eyes.” The command pierces my brain and brings an intense pain with it. “Omega Three, open your eyes.”
I try, I really do, but nothing is cooperating. Where am I? Why do I feel this way?
“Omega Three, open your eyes.” It’s a computer voice.
But then there’s another. “Do you remember who you are?”
“Molly,” I mumble.
“No, Omega Three. You were never Molly. It’s a fake name for a fake life. A life that someone gave you. Who was that?”
“Lincoln Wade,” I say, my throat so dry it comes out as a hoarse whisper.
“Put her back under. She’s not ready.”
The stabbing pain is back in my head. It feels like fingers digging into my brain and ripping out my very essence. “Please,” I say.
“‘Please, more,’ is all I hear, Omega Three. Who gave you a new life?”
I know it’s Lincoln, but that’s the wrong answer. And those stabbing fingers will squeeze me until there’s nothing left. I need to keep what I have left. I need to hold on and survive. So I try a new name. “Crazy Bill,” I say as images of my father pop into my head.
This time there is no warning. My head feels like it will split in half.
“Stop!” I scream. “Stop!”
I run all the people who gave me a new life over and over in my head and they come tumbling out of my mouth in a stream of desperation. “Will, my mother, the school—”
The pain eases just the tiniest bit, but I grab on to it and hold fast. “The school,” I say again. “Prodigy School.” The pressure begins building again, letting me know I’m close, but not on target. “Please!” I scream. “Please, please, please!” But the pain increases with every word. Every second that passes that I fail to find the answer, the agony builds until I want to claw my eyes out.
“You!” I finally say.
The pain stops immediately and I start sobbing.
“Who, Omega Three?”