The Syndicate: Darkest Before the Dawn - Part Two by: Enemyoffun Rick Grant has always been in control of his life, whether its living on the streets or stealing to survive. But when things get out of control he finds himself facing off against a very dangerous organization with vicious tactics, persuasive agents and a deadly agenda.

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Author's Note: Thank you everyone for your wonderful feedback on the first part of this story. A couple notes here. Only one chapter this time and not nearly as thrilling as the first two. I raise a few questions and don't answer any. But the answers will come. Oh yeah, kudos to anyone who gets the One Piece reference, I was watching it while writing.

Chapter Three:

You ever have one of those dreams where it feels like the world is collapsing all around you? Where you’re standing in the middle of nowhere and there are people all around but you’re the only one who notices that something is wrong? You don’t know who you are or where you’re from, you just exist. Those dreams are pretty weird aren’t they? I wish I was having one of those. Instead my dream was darkness. I’m in some kind of void and it’s black all around me. I appear to be floating and for some reason I’m not wearing anything. Maybe the Dream God is perverted, who knows? All I know is that somehow in Dream World I can defy gravity and apparently I’m a Nudist. Too bad there wasn’t a hot blonde in here with me then maybe everything wouldn’t be so bad.

“See you soon, sweetie”
_____

“Is It awake?”

The voice was stern and gruff, not something you want to wake up too. So that’s why I played possum. I learned a long time that if someone doesn’t know you’re listening then they say things that they wouldn’t normally. So I pretended to sleep while Mr. Talker No. 1 chatted with whoever else was in the room. I tried to process what was going on while I waited for a response. I could feel the bed underneath me, it was soft and firm. The pillow under my head felt like down but it was flat and well used. The room itself smelt sterile like bleach and the cologne Mr. Talker No. 1 was wearing was so overpowering I wanted to gag.
The response came quick and from a woman: “It appears to be still asleep, sir. However my instruments do not detect the REM from earlier”

Instruments? I wan ted to feel around to see what she was talking about but I knew if I did I’d blow my cover. But I didn’t need too, I could feel them. There were several cold things all over my chest, arms and legs. There were two cold metal things on my forehead and something sticking in my arm. I’m guessing that was an I.V., the one they talked about in all those medical shows my third Foster Mother Mrs. Reese used to watch. They were “monitoring my vitals’ whatever that meant. All I knew was it was itchy and invasive.

Mr. Talker got up, for now I knew he had been sitting because I heard him stand and screech his chair across the floor. I felt a foreboding presence over me as if he were trying to get a better view. I wondered if he was in charge of the Commandos. They had been pretty stealthy save for the big hole they made and they had been pretty organized. They must have grabbed Frankie before we woke. Maybe they were government. Perhaps the cops called them in to catch us after our little heist. But that didn’t explain why they killed Johnny and Dell.

Just thinking about them made my body hurt. I used every bit of will power to force back my tears. I don’t know who they were or who they worked for but I was going to nail these punks. No one kills my friends and gets away with it. I don’t know how I was going to get my revenge but it was going to happen.
Mr. Talker leaned back and spoke: “When It’s awake and fully processed, I want It in my office. Make sure all the preparations are made and ask Mr. Blue to put a couple of guards on this room at all times. I don’t want a repeat of Seattle”.

“Sure thing Mr. Zero”

Zero huh, what kind of name was that? Well obviously not his real one. Just like the mention of Mr. Blue, whoever that was. Clearly I was dealing with some kind of secret group, like in those spy movies Mr. Reese used to like to watch. What did these guys want with me then? I’m a small, skinny sixteen year old from nowhere. I don’t possess government secrets, I’m not the child of a diplomat or world leader (at least I don’t think so) and I’m definitely not some genetically engineered super freak with super powers and a cool hair. Don’t ask me where that last one came from, maybe Saturday morning cartoons.
Mr. Zero left the room, his thumping echoed loudly. It sounded like a vacant hall, maybe a hospital. That made sense, considering all the doodads stuck in me. You’re probably wondering how I know all this stuff and the answer is; I don’t. I’m scared and when I’m scared I like to make things up. We could be in a fricking Mickie D’s for all I know (highly unlikely though, I think). What I could tell was that there were a lot of people, for that I was certain. They wouldn’t have need for medical if there wasn’t. There were at least three people I knew of: Mr. Zero, Mr. Blue and the Nameless Doctor Lady. Plus who knows how many commandos at their beck and call. For all I knew they could have a small army. Which from where I was laying was not very comforting?

“You can stop faking it now”

Doctor Lady was smart. Well of course she was; she was a doctor after all. I just never pegged her for someone who could tell when someone is pretending or not. I was about to keep on pretending just to stick it to them when I felt her hand touch my bare shoulder. It was a gentle touch, soft and reassuring. I’m not sure what made me trust her but I did. That still didn’t mean I wanted to open my eyes and play nice. I acknowledged her my gently shrugging her hand off.
“Eavesdropping is a very serious offense, especially in this place”

I moved my head slightly. “And what is this place exactly?”

“That’s not my business to say. I’m just the doctor. I patch you up when you get put full of holes”.
Holes, what kind of place was this. I didn’t express my opinion though. I learned my lesson long ago that one’s opinion got them time outs, scoldings and in rare cases the belt. I could still feel the last one my bare bottom. Note to everyone never piss off an ex-Marine with a serious attitude and no anger management.

“You’re lucky they sent you to me, Dr. Orange has wandering hands”

Dr. Orange? Another color man, how many were there? I asked what I was thinking and only got a cryptic response. According to Doctor Lady there were enough to fill one single box of crayola crayons. Which if I remember my childhood that’s at least eight but I’m not sure if that counts Mr. Zero or not. I was too afraid to ask but seeing as he wasn’t a color then probably not. Which meant there were at least eight people in charge of this place, most likely all adults and if Mr. Zero was any indication, probably all seriously bad dudes? I mean who calls people “It”.

I asked the next reasonable question: “Which color are you?”

She laughed at that which made me smile. I made a grown woman laugh. “I’m Dr. White. Mind you that’s not my real name…” Her voice trailed off which could only mean telling me these things was a no no. Then she spoke in a whisper: “when it’s just you and me, you can call me Trish, ok sweetie” She tweaked my nose which would have annoyed me but was actually pretty soothing right now.

After that the two of us went through the usual question and answer. But I was probably more evasive then her. I thought it was cool and all her being an adult and allowing me to call her by her first name but I still didn’t trust her. Even if she was nice with soft hands and a sweet voice. She still worked for the people who killed two of my friends and kidnapped me. So whenever her questions got to close to home I lied. When she asked about my folks I said they were vacationing in the Bahamas. When she asked about school I told her I was so smart they let me graduate. When she asked why I was hiding in a burnt out shack with four other runaways I told her we were not runaways but merely sightseeing and got lost. I’m not sure but I don’t think she bought it. I don’t really care.

We stopped the pointless questions after that. Then we got into the heavy stuff: like why I was there and what did they wanted me for? She became cryptic again and only said that I was important for the safety of everyone. Or maybe it was I was there to keep everyone safe from me? Regardless neither answer seemed to make much sense. When I pressed matters she only told me that there wasn’t much she knew, she was only one of two medical professionals on staff and her clearance didn’t go that high. But that just led into other questions. Like how dangerous was I? why did anyone need clearance? Why were they posting guards at my door? But the most important of all was why did they have to kill my friends?

That question was the only one I got a straight answer too and it scared me: “Because, Sweetie, you would have killed them anyway”
What the heck kind of answer was that? Who justifies killing others by saying they would have been dead anyway and what did that mean? Why would they have been dead? I’m not dangerous. I’m sixteen years old for crying out loud, I’m not some crazed mass murderer. I voiced all of these questions to her and I heard the hesitation in her voice. She paused and sighed, clearly wanting to say something.

“You got to stop asking these questions” she replied in a whisper, real close to my ear. Then in a more normal tone, she said “Mr. Zero will explain everything when you meet with him tomorrow morning”.

I sighed. I knew the type of person he was. He was an administrative bureaucrat (like a glorified Case Worker). It was his job to be reassuring and condescending. I knew the type; I’ve spent the last several years trying to avoid them. Whenever I did end up in one of their offices, they played nice and I played nice. They told me what they wanted me to hear and I told them what I wanted them to hear. It was all false bravado. Even though Mr. Zero had sounded meaner than most, he was cut from the same cloth. But I couldn’t help but wonder if he would see through all my B.S.

“O.k.” said Trish as sweetly as possible. “Now that the awkward getting to know you phase is over. Why don’t you finally open your eyes, sit up and we can get onto the invasive physical part of this exam”

I groaned. I hated doctors. I hated cold instruments, tongue depressors and dry bed side manners. But I liked Trish, kinda. So very reluctantly I sat up. I stretched and groaned. I also forgot that my eyes were closed. I’d been so caught up in our little chat that it never occurred to me. I laughed slightly and opened my eyes.

The room exploded around me. It was the most bright, vibrant light I’d ever seen. It burned. It was like looking directly into the sun. I fell back onto the bed, screaming. I clutched my face, covered my eyes with my hands and withered in pain. Trish panicked for a second but she reacted like a doctor. She flew forward to check my vitals. I’m not sure what it was she was doing because I was thrashing and riving in pain. I kept screaming about my burning eyes. My voice was screechy. It was the first time I noticed. It was also at this particular time that I realized only seconds before that I screamed like a girl.

As soon as that realization hit me something else did: a sharp prick to the neck and I was out cold.

Photo Credit: MeetMeByTheLake2Nite