Chapter 1.2.7 — Lock 6

Lachlan had been ready for a quiet Thursday night in when he got the text:

UNKNOWN 10:36 PM: Immediate assignment. Report to testing ground.

So much for that.

~

Lock jogged the West End streets of Belport, past Gnosis’s sprawling headquarters, until he reached a set of unmarked buildings that looked like storage warehouses. He walked between the buildings to a secret doorway. Hidden sensors scanned his tracking chip, and the door slid open.

Lock had been through this process dozens of times over the last few months, but today the three guards that greeted him were on edge. Not only could Lock smell the extra sweat on them, but the guard’s hands were trembling. As soon as the guards scanned him psychically, they ushered him inside. Then they proceeded quickly into the flickering lights of the hallway and down the pitted concrete stairs.

The smell of blood grew thicker as they descended.

At least he didn’t feel the psychic touch of the guards anymore. They really were focused on something else…

His suspicion was all but confirmed as they bypassed their normal stop at the medical wing and continued deeper into the Gnosis underground. For a moment, Lock methodically considered the possibilities as to why they called him in:

Security job for a client—not likely. New clients were rare and repeat clients contacted him directly.

New client—possible. They would want to meet in a safe location and see what he was capable of. A high-profile client might be enough to put the guards on edge… Doubtful.

Impromptu testing—not likely. Gnosis was a slave to procedure when it came to these things. This possibility went out the window when they skipped the medical wing.

There was one last possibility, and it was confirmed when they came to a second and third group of guards, both situated at a corner of the hallway. These guards wore Gnosis’s proprietary light model power armor: Hardened impact plates, actuator enhanced joints, and personal rebreathers. Their rifles were trained down the hall.

Lock’s escort said, “Asset is here.”

Without looking back, a soldier confirmed, “Target is still in the room.”

The escort turned to Lock, and she looked him directly in the eyes for the first time. Her lip trembled even though her words sounded rehearsed.

“Your target is in the lab at the end of the hall. Potential Class three super. Telekinetic and electrical elementalist. Do not attempt communication—their mind is gone. Kill them, quickly.

“A sterilization team is waiting outside the other entrance to the room. Announce when the target is eliminated. Do you understand these instructions?”

Lock pulled off his hoodie and handed it to the guard. Then he rolled his neck, causing pops to echo through the hall.

“Yes.”

Then he strode forward with the confidence that only a super possessed.

Lock breathed slowly, feeling his muscles begin to pulse beneath his clothes. He’d always been muscular, but now it felt like every fiber writhed like snakes trying to slip out of his skin. His fingertips grew into a grotesque mix of nails and bone spurs. Lastly, Lock deadened his sense of pain.

He passed the second set of armored guards and saw the single metal door at the end of the hall. Lock knew from experience that the doors were two inches of reinforced steel. They could hold a Class 3 super.

The door was bowed outward. Its frame and surrounding concrete hadn’t fared much better. The scent of blood practically poured out of the cracks.

The target—the super—waiting for him probably was mentally wrecked. They probably didn’t even realize how close they were to escape.

Lock paused at the door and listened. With his enhanced senses, Lock could just hear quiet, measured breathing…

Their mind might be gone, but not that gone.

Lock wrapped his bony and scabbed fingers around the edge of the door, slowly pulling and working it open. The lock squealed in protest, but the door came free. He peeled it open as easily as opening a jar.

He opened it just enough to step through sideways.

Inside were the ruins of what once would’ve been a lab. Stainless steel medical tables lay in twisted piles along the wall—the bodies of two or maybe three guards were visible beneath them. Cracked monitors hung by their wires and shattered glass covered the floor. Chunks of concrete were missing from the walls. Blood trickled out from the pile of rubble and bodies.

A young man in a bloody hospital gown sat in the middle of the room, clutching his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth. Thin streams of blood trickled from the bodies and across the room, coalescing on the target. He seemed to be absorbing it through his gown and into his skin.

He couldn’t have been much older than Lock.

The target looked up at Lock for the first time, eyes hollow and vacant.

Lock stared back, feeling much the same.

In the end, Lock wasn’t sure how long he stood like that, or how long he would have stayed like that, because the decision was made for him.

The target’s eyes narrowed, and the air in the room shimmered as he let out a burst of telekinetic power.

But Lock was already halfway across the room.

The wave hit him mid-lunge, and Lock felt his muscles spasm like he’d been hit with a cattle prod. A normal human would’ve folded themselves in half, but Lock’s muscles reset a millisecond later, and the sensation was over as quickly as it came.

Even if the blast would’ve been powerful enough to stun him, momentum would’ve carried him into the target.

The next instant, Lock’s hand was around the man’s throat. He looked up at Lock, wide-eyed, and whispered, “Thank you.”

Lock snapped his neck with one hand and let the man fall lifeless to the ground. It had been easy—barely any force at all.

“Clear,” Lock called out, his voice wavering. He had to concentrate to keep his hand from shaking.

Gnosis agents in full containment gear filed in from the other door. All but one of them wore a tank and carried a sprayer—the psychic confirmed the subject was dead, then the rest of the team set to work.

In a daze, Lock stepped back to the edge of the room and watched.

The first was a flamethrower, so hot that the flames were smokeless. After charring the body, the next agent sprayed the area with carbon dioxide to extinguish the flames. The last agent sprayed bleach over the remains. They all did the same to the rest of the room.

Lock had seen the disinfectant team work before, but this time… Would it be cliche to say that this time felt different? Was it really any different?

He let his sense of pain come back, but his muscles were already healed. The only thing that he felt was the residual heat and the tinge of chemicals in his nose.

Lock didn’t feel anything. Anything at all.

~

The three guards in regular uniforms escorted Lock back the way they came, back toward the surface.

But instead of ushering him to the exit, they took him through another series of halls.

Lock followed close behind, but began to look around as he walked. Something had changed, and it caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end.

Something was wrong.

He thought back to the steps he’d taken on the way down… This was a different path, but that wouldn’t set him on edge. The prickly sensation could be from a reality warper using their power. He wouldn’t put it past Gnosis to have a powerful one on their payroll, especially in their headquarters.

The guards led him to one last door and opened it for him.

Inside was a bare concrete room, some twenty feet square. It was only partially less chipped and stained than some of the other wholesome places in Gnosis underground.

But Lock didn’t focus on that or the door locking behind him. He focused on the one businessman standing in the center.

Even at a glance, Lock could tell he was someone high up in Gnosis.

He was tall with long, jet-black hair. The well-tailored suit hid just how gaunt he was, even if the foundation on his cheeks couldn’t. Between that and his pale skin he might as well have been a skeleton, but the man exuded the danger of a powerful super.

Slowly, Lock’s brain caught up with his senses, and again he felt the prickling sensation on the back of his neck. He was what Lock had sensed. And now that Lock was in the room, every fiber of his being screamed at him to get out.

Lock did his best not to react.

The man smiled, revealing pointed teeth. He spoke with a breathy voice. “Lachlan Harris. Well done. I expected nothing less.”

Lock nodded slightly because he couldn’t bring himself to do or say anything else.

The man began to pace back and forth slowly. Again, Lock saw two things: A man carefully considering his next words, and a lion stalking toward its prey.

“Potent… Reliable… Decisive… You’re one of our best assets in Belport, and it’s time you were rewarded for your effort.” He paused and stared at Lock with bloodshot eyes. “I would like to offer you a new line of work.”

Up until that moment, Lock’s body had been screaming at him to run. But now it was the opposite.

Lock stayed absolutely still and said the one word expected of him because he was absolutely terrified of saying anything else.

“Yes.”

~ ~ ~