Dissonance - Book One

eleven

But before he can answer, the snow begins to whip and spin in vicious circles as the helicopter is nearly directly above us, only it's not a helicopter. It's some sort of hovercraft. I've never seen anything like it before. Definitely not civilian grade. This has military written all over it. Any small shred of hope I had that this might be Ivanov's people, is gone.

A spotlight shines brightly, illuminating the area surrounding us, as the predator hones in on its prey. But I'm too distracted by something else to be scared of what lies ahead. The light from the hovercraft has lit up the ground for several hundred yards and I'm taken aback by the sight of human sized snow banks, one after another. There must be at least 100, under which lie the bodies of one innocent person after the next, all of which have experienced a horrendous death and have been laid to rest in shallow nameless graves that no one will ever visit. A single tear rolls down my face in mourning for their lives that will soon be forgotten, and I wonder if I will meet a similar fate, or perhaps worse.

The aircraft comes to a landing. At least twenty armed soldiers exit the hovercraft shining the bright lights attached to their guns in every direction, looking for their target, looking for me. Instantly, my sorrow is replaced with hatred. Hatred for the corporation that could be helping to save millions of lives, but instead, all they are concerned with is one life. Mine. And I'm not even sure saving it is exactly what they want to do. I take a deep breath as Wyler steps forward slowly with his hands in the air. This is it. This is how the end begins.

They move in aggressively and Wyler shouts, "Be careful! She's injured!"

One of the men approaches cautiously, pointing his gun at me, making sure it's not a trick. I unwrap the blanket slightly for him to see the gruesome state of my abdomen, which I haven't dared to look at since it happened. It doesn't look great, but it's far better than I expected.

He moves in close and grabs a flashlight that is strapped to his right pant leg, pointing it at one of my eyes and then the other. The color of the light is odd, and unlike a normal flashlight, my pupils are unfazed by having light shined directly at them.

"It's her," he says to the other men, then he presses a small button on his left shoulder and radios for assistance. Within minutes, the cavalry arrives, placing me on a stretcher and rushing me towards the aircraft while Wyler is escorted with a gun pointed to his back.

As soon as I'm on the plane, I'm placed on a gurney and a team of people surround me, all wearing masks over their mouths and noses. They're dressed in white lab coats with the word, Environettix, embossed on the left breast pocket. I can see a sick sort of excitement in their eyes. To them, I'm not a person with a soul. I'm a rat in their lab experiment. I can only imagine what they will do to me, but in hopes that I might not have to find out, I sneak the beacon under the pad beneath me, as the men and women in white coats are distracted by someone shouting directions at them. I glance around nervously, praying that no one saw what I did. One of the men in fatigues notices my hand as I bring it back to my stomach, eyeing me with suspicion. No! He couldn't have seen me. This is our only hope and I may have just screwed it up, but I didn't know how many chances I would get to make a move unnoticed. I had to take it.

He lowers his gun and slings it to his side as he moves towards me. I try to keep a straight face so that he won't be able to read the panic racing through my body. I contemplate reaching down, grabbing the beacon and smashing it against his head, but that would only injure one of their men and I would surely be punished for my attack. Instead, I try to remain calm as he pushes one of the doctors out of the way.

Once he reaches my side, he looks me up and down, gauging what I'm up to. I want to spit in his face. I despise him and it's impossible to hide. He can see the fire in my eyes. He may not have seen me hide the beacon, but his distrust of me is clear. His lips turn up in a disturbing smile. He knows he holds all the power, and that I have none, and it gives him a sick sort of fulfillment. He towers over me for a moment before grabbing my wrists and strapping them into the leather cuffs at my side. I try to wriggle my arms free but all my squirming does is send a searing pain through my abdomen. I scream and my arms fall limp at my sides as my stomach contracts in agony.

"No!" Wyler shouts. "Don't hurt her!"

At his outburst, two large men grab his arms, twisting them behind his back. A man, who appears to be in charge, steps forward and pats Wyler on the shoulder.

"Good work Wyler," the man says. "You proved to be more useful than I expected. A pity that is no longer the case."

"You promised you wouldn't hurt her."

"Oh Wyler, don't you know? Promises were meant to be broken," the man sneers.

"I'll kill you," Wyler threatens with hatred coursing through his veins.

"I think it will be the other way around," he chuckles. "Take him away," the man orders.

Wyler thrashes violently, trying to break free from the hold they have on him.

My face twists in confusion as he looks over his shoulder at me with pleading eyes. Good work Wyler. Good work. The words repeat in my head over and over. You promised you wouldn't hurt her. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks and I can tell Wyler sees the realization on my face as he mouths the words, "I'm sorry."

Wyler is a double agent, just like Kelly. Only he's playing for the wrong team. This whole time I thought I was safe, but really, I was sleeping with the enemy.