The Forbidden Trilogy(190)

They closed the door, covering Drake in darkness once again.

He sat back down and let out a sigh of relief. The truck revved back up and drove into the quarantine zone. Just a short drive and they'd arrive at the building where most of the kids with powers were being held.

The truck sped up, and Drake's senses pinged. Something about his control over the driver felt off. Tires screeched outside. The truck shuddered and lost control, tilting to one side and crashing Drake into a wall of cans. He held on as the truck skidded down the street.

Shit! He shouldn't have let himself get distracted. People under compulsion weren't as aware, and any attention at that moment could spell disaster. He kicked the door open and slid out the back.

The post-apocalyptic look of the city surprised him. Crowds of dirty, homeless people huddled in groups. Some ran toward the crash, attracted to any form of human pain and suffering. Others hesitated, perhaps scared of the army, or perhaps beyond caring about anything anymore.

Litter lined the streets, as though people had given up taking care of their city. Dark clouds settled in the sky like unwanted houseguests, unusual for this part of California, but certainly fitting the mood of the place.

The truck he'd hitched a ride in had crashed into another truck while going through an intersection. The other truck had a smashed fender, but hadn't toppled as they had. At least few cars travelled the street, and no one appeared seriously injured.

Drake opened his mind and strengthened his connection to the driver. 'You will forget you ever saw me.' With that done, he slipped into the crowd. No one seemed to notice or care about his presence. The drivers interested them more.

Protesters rallied to "Free the Children" at a large hospital a few blocks down. Though, to call them protestors created a much cleaner, more organized mental image than what Drake witnessed. A ragtag group of humanity, staggering under the weight of their own fear, had made one last ditch effort to retrieve their loved ones in the hospital, carrying signs that could have said "Will Work for Food" instead of "Free the Children."

That must be where they're keeping Toby.

Drake jogged over and pushed through the desperate mass of people camped near the equally desperate mass of protestors. He couldn't figure out who all these people were or why they had come. Had more drugs been released into the area somehow? Drake had assumed Blue Power was only a street drug, which would have limited the demographic exposed, but the scene in front of him led him to believe that more than just drug users had been infected.

Someone screamed in the distance—guys in white hazmat suits pulled an old man into a truck.

Drake fought an impulse to save the guy. He didn't have much time before his own powers waned, and Steele had only given him a handful of vials and a large stack of cash. The purple drug lasted longer than the blue, but they still faded after time. He had to conserve. He needed the vials to help get Ana back, and each one he spent here put his own child at risk.

Besides, maybe the old guy's in danger, or a danger to others. Maybe he needs to be handled that way. He didn't know and didn't have time to find out.

Seven armed guards stood sentry at the entrance of the hospital—whether to keep people out, or keep patients in, Drake couldn't tell. Probably both. Controlling all of them at the same time would be difficult—maybe too difficult.

Shit. Maybe if—

"You there, don't move." One guard raised his gun and aimed at Drake.

Drake put his hands in the air as the crowd backed away from him.

The young guard stared vacantly at him through black wire-rimmed glasses. "Come with me," he said, and led him down an alley and out of sight.

Good. The compulsion Drake planted had worked. 'Now take off your uniform.'

The guard stripped down to his boxers and handed over his clothes.

Drake changed into the guard's uniform, grabbed his ID—he and the guard looked close enough alike that Drake thought he could pass at a glance—took his weapon, and released him.

'Somebody robbed you. You didn't see who did it. You will forget me completely.'

A twinge of guilt interrupted Drake's flow. The solider would probably catch hell for this, but what else could he do? Sick of the "ends justify the means" argument he'd fed himself so much lately, he purged it from his mind and walked toward the building, flashing his ID on the way. It only took a small nudge from his power for them to glance past his face and let him through. The guise saved him from burning his drug on full mind control.

Stepping into the hospital was like entering a different world. Clean, polished floors and brightly lit corridors greeted him. In contrast to the dirt and chaos outside, uniformed military nurses and doctors went about their business with the calm ease of routine. Just another day at work.