BACKTRACKER by Milo Fowler (books to read in your 30s TXT) 📗

man I know who could pull offsomething like this.

"Cyrus Horton," she said, dropping her eyes.

"Cyrus Horton," he mused, nodding to himself. Ofcourse! So much for unforeseen obstacles. Now everything was falling intoplace. He could not have planned this better. I just might be the luckiestman alive. "And he has another one, you say. AnotherBackTracker?" She appeared unresponsive, so he shook her. "Yes?"

"Yes." Barely audible.

"Where does he keep it?"

"Underground."

So the rumors are true. "Youall live down there together, do you?" Hewatched her nod. "And he has what, a secret laboratory or somethingamongst all those subhuman degenerates?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Somehow, I believe her. "Take methere."

"You are a fool." Cade stepped forward. "The freakswill kill you both."

Lennox chuckled, fingering the trigger. "I can take care ofmyself. But I appreciate your concern, nevertheless."

"Have you ever been Underground?" Cade took another stepand then crouched beside the bodies on the floor. Lennox's gun muzzle followedhis careful movements.

"No, but I've heard the campfire stories. Abandoned subwaytunnels, just the place for a genius-in-hiding to hole up." He jostled thegirl in his grip. "Shall we go, my fair lady? I would very much like tosee your father's secret lab."

Cade rose. In his hand now was a sword, the steel blade stainedblack.

"No!" Mary screamed and lashed out against Lennox.

He pulled the trigger, but the shot was wide, thrown off by thegirl. He slapped her hard across the face, and she stumbled to the floor at hisfeet.

Cade didn't move. "Send for a doctor, and I will join you.You will need my protection Underground."

Lennox saw it clearly in his mind, this white monk sailing throughthe air, striking the heads from those two mandroids in the alley. Deflectingthe rounds fired at close range with that infernal blade. I'drather take my chances with the freaks.

"What's to keep you from skewering me along the way?"Lennox said.

"You have my word."

Lennox laughed out loud.

"You may not be familiar with the concept, Mr. Lennox. Beinga man of your word, that is," Kuan said. "But for a Follower of theWay, our word is our bond."

"A brotherhood of conceit," Lennox muttered. Heseriously considered ending both of these holy men with his next two rounds."Here's a better idea. I shoot you and the kid, and we go on our merryway. How about that?"

"Then I won't take you." Her voice was barely audible,her eyes downcast, her long hair disheveled across her face.

But Lennox heard her well enough. And again, he believed her. He tappedthe plug behind his ear. George's ghoulish face appeared in a holo imageprojected from the deskscreen nearby.

"Yes, Sir Gavin?"

"Are they gone?"

"The police? Yes. They have left the building."

Lennox paused, sizing up the albino before him. He found himself onthe verge of trusting him. But it was only a fleeting lapse of judgment.

"Send for the doctor." Lennox smiled, as confident asever. "We're going on a little trip. From what I've heard, the Undergroundis beautiful this time of year."

He tapped his plug again, and George's stunned face dissolved. Thedesk's holo emitter blinked off.

"On your feet, my lady." Lennox extended his free handto the young woman. There his hand remained, hovering in mid-air. He narrowedhis gaze at her tousle of hair, nudged her with the toe of his boot. She didn'trespond.

What is she staring at?

"We came for you," she said in a hushed voice. Shewasn't speaking to him. It was the albino she looked in the eye. "We camefor you, Cade."

The monk's jaw tightened. His dark eyes, a stark contrast to hiswhite skin, seemed to soften. He knelt, and the sword's blade dug into thecarpet. "I know."

"Father said—" She choked, fighting back tears."Father told us where to find you, in that Blackshirt's car, but youweren't there. You were here. He was wrong about that." She whispered,"Now both Peter and Paul are dead."

"I am so sorry," he said, and to Lennox it looked likehe actually meant it.

"They were your brothers, too, Cade. Both of them. We—"Her lungs shuddered. "They were your brothers."

"Yes." He nodded.

"You accept it now?" She smiled, her face wet with bloodand tears.

"I must."

As Lennox watched, Cade reached forward to touch the girl's cheekwith genuine tenderness. She responded by cupping his hand in her own, staininghis alabaster skin with the blood of their brothers. The smearsbrought on an uncomfortable twinge of remorse, and Lennox swept his gaze towardthe bodies bleeding on the floor. His handiwork. The black man with most of hishead missing. The old man staring up at the ceiling with eyes that would neversee again. The blood that would never come out of the expensive carpet.

What a mess.

Lennox cleared his throat. "There's a restroom down the hall,in the master bedroom." He met Cade's gaze. For once, the albino appeareduncertain. "Get her cleaned up. George will return with the doctorshortly. Then we'll go."

Cade nodded.

"Leave the sword." Lennox raised the revolver a fewdegrees.

Cade let the blade drop to the floor with a dull thud and reachedout both arms, scooping up the girl and rising in a single movement. Shedropped her forehead against his neck, and he carried her out of the room, downthe hallway, the thick carpet sinking between his toes, the blood on her bodyslick against his robe.

Kuan watched them go. Then he turned to the boy and knelt at hisside. His hand came to rest on the boy's brow.

"Who is this kid to you, really?" Lennox said.

Kuan hesitated. "You would not understand."

"Try me." He squeezed the revolver's grip.

"Do you know the true meaning of loyalty, Mr. Lennox?"

"Are we headed into another metaphysical debate, Mr. Ti?Forget I said anything."

Kuan smiled faintly, a brief flash of white in his otherwisesubdued expression. "Some would say loyalty is merely a steadfastness ofdevotion. An allegiance." He swept the locks of hair away from the boy'seyelids. "But it is much more than that. It is love. I have seenthis child grow from a helpless infant into the young man he is today. Therehave been mishaps along the way—no lad is without his bumps and bruises, I'mafraid."

You were the source of a few yourself.

Lennox glanced at the kid's wrists, and a recent image flashedthrough his mind of