A Question of Will Page 15

Adam went over to the sleeping woman and held her hand, apparently deep in thought or prayer, and then he leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead, releasing her hand. He crouched down and looked in the eye of the tiny boy huddled at his mother’s feet. “Hi there, William. I’m a bit hungry and would love to get a candy bar. Do you know anyone who could show me where I might buy one?”

  The little boy, his eyes red from draining out all the tears his tiny body could produce, tried to look brave. “I know where,” he whispered.

  Adam smiled, and glanced at Baker. “If it’s OK with your dad, can you show me? I get lost all the time.”

  To Baker’s shock, and Howe’s as well, the little boy glanced at his dad. “Can I, Daddy?”

  Baker only nodded, and the little boy crawled out of the bed, and led Adam by the hand from the room.

  Baker glanced at Howe. “You do know that man, right? He’s not going to run off with my son, is he?”

  Howe shook his head. “I’ve met him before; he runs parts of the Starks’ businesses. He told me he’s the secret Advisor just before we figured out you might be here.” He paused, glancing at the doorway. “I get the feeling your son is safer with him than just about anyone.”

  Baker nodded. “Oddly, I get the same feeling.”

  “He said you’d know he was the secret Advisor, because of something Will would have told both of you.” Howe gave Baker a pointed look. “Any idea what that might be?”

  Baker shook his head. “Not a clue. But I have a feeling he’ll tell me in due time.”

  XIV

  Purge

  Will woke to the sound of Angel and Fil entering the room, not because of a door opening or closing — such devices simply didn’t exist in this room — but because the two were having an animated discussion in whispers, and were unaware that Will could hear them.

  “—brought him here, what were you thinking—”

  “—plan, the...change him—”

  “—if he’s wrong?”

  Then they seemed aware that they had an audience, and ceased whispering. Angel had the decency to look guilty. Fil looked at Will as though offended the man had dared to be right where they’d left him.

  Will arched an eyebrow. “Anything I should know about?”

  “No,” Fil said.

  “That’s it? Just no?”

  “Just no.”

  “You know, you’re reportedly going to give me something that will make me feel worse than I did shortly after receiving what were probably second-degree burns, getting shards of glass blasted into my body, being thrown through the air, and having three men I’ve since learned have what I would consider to be supernatural powers kick me with so much force that bones broke. I’m putting a lot of trust in you. Keeping secrets from me isn’t exactly going to help our relationship.”

  “We have no relationship,” Fil said, his voice cold. “We’re doing each other favors. My life and my business are none of yours.”

  Will glanced at Angel. She shrugged. “It was a private conversation and it has nothing to do with you. If there’s something you need to know, you’ll know.”

  He sighed, but calmed noticeably as the young woman approached. He knew she was sending calming Energy his way, and wondered if the technique worked on everyone. He glanced back at Fil, and the man’s face was still cold.

  Apparently not.

  “OK. Then can you at least give me some explanation of what this Purge is, exactly?”

  Fil pulled a bottle out of his pocket. It was larger than the mere vials that Angel usually provided him. “This is it.” He handed the bottle to Will. It was a dark, reddish color, and looked a lot like...

  “Is that blood?” Will gasped. “Seriously, you told me you aren’t witches, but I guess I should have asked if you’re some other type of supernatural creature. I have no interest in becoming a vampire.”

  Fil scowled, and opened his mouth to hurl an insult Will’s way. Angel placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, and he closed his mouth, still seeming to look daggers at Will through the ever-present mirrored sunglasses. “Mr. Stark, it’s not blood. That’s just the color that the various components create when mixed together. We are very much human, just operating with a higher degree of the potential we can reach compared to most of our fellow humans. None of us drink blood.” She glanced at Fil, who still looked annoyed at the suggestion, and gave him a friendly elbow. “Well, Fil thinks about it sometimes.”

  Will sighed. “It does look like blood, but I appear to have no choice. What does it do, exactly?”

  Fil answered. “It’s a mixture of selected food substances chosen for their individual and collaborative impacts, as well as special additives of our creation, designed to extract and expel harmful substances from the body and enable true health and Energy development.”

  Will blinked. “What?”

  Fil scowled. “What do you mean, what? I just answered your question. Weren’t you listening?”

  “I don’t want a scientific explanation. Just the facts. In English. With specifics on what it’s going to do to me. I’d like to mentally prepare myself for the tortuous pain I’m supposed to endure from swallowing the blood stuff.”

  Fil’s face curled into a snarl. Angel spoke up. “What we’ve found over time is that most humans have large quantities of what could best be called contaminants in their bodies. These contaminants have two primary effects, though sometimes they’re subtle. First, they prevent your body from operating at optimum efficiency. For example, you might eat something that lessens the ability of your stomach to fully digest the next food you eat, or slow your recovery from an injury. Over time, these contaminants can add up, and it means your body operates at less than peak efficiency, sometimes dramatically less. You’ll see various aging markers, lower muscle tone, and so on.”

  Will glanced down at himself through his glasses and patted his stomach. “I think I can relate to that point.”

  Angel nodded. It was quite clear that she and Fil did not relate. Both were extremely lean with excellent muscle tone. Will thought they both looked like the gymnasts he’d watched during the Olympic games when he was younger, before the worldwide economic depression caused the event to be canceled starting in 2020.

  “The second thing they do is mask the Energy that your body naturally produces. Everyone produces some, but few can actually sense it, and if you can’t sense it, you can’t manipulate it to perform various tasks, like those I demonstrated to you before. Once those contaminants are gone, you’ll feel better than you’ve ever felt before. You’ll sense the Energy. Your body will be able to produce more Energy, and attract more from nature.

  “Contaminants are impossible to avoid, so most of us will do a Purge several times per year, and it’s unpleasant for us, like having a really bad cold. But with thirty-five years and no Purges...I can’t imagine it will be pleasant.”

  “I’ve had colds before, Angel. I can deal with that.”

  Fil shook his head. “The various agents in the formula will seek out and bind to the contaminants, wherever they are. In muscle, in bone, in organs, in your brain, in tissues and ligaments. They will then seek an exit from the body, taking the contaminants with them. When there’s not much contamination to remove, it’s sweating and a runny nose. You, on the other hand, may literally bleed out your eyes. We simply don’t know; we’ve not had anyone Purge before with such a buildup.”

  Will winced. “Your bedside manner needs work, but I appreciate the warning. Still, if this is what I need to do to prevent others from going through what my family and I went through, it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

  Fil glanced at the bottle. “Angel will stay and be prepared to take action if needed. When the effects of the Purge hit, please try not to kill her.”

  “Wait,” Will said. “If I’m going to be dangerous, why are you leaving?”

  “You’re far more likely to try to kill me. I’d exaggerate your desire for violence.”

&
nbsp; Good point. Will watched as the man walked through the wall of the room. He wondered when he’d leave this place. He hadn’t actually tried to leave the room, but wondered if he needed this Energy to get through the wall.

  “Can I ask you something?” Angel asked, and Will nodded.

  “What were they like?”

  “Who?”

  “Your family. Your wife and your son.”

  Will sighed. “They were my whole world. A lot of people thought my world was business, or making money, but those were just things that I did. My life was pretty lousy until I was about twenty years old, because before that all of my family was dead and I was completely broke. It wasn’t much fun before that. I had an older brother, but he died when I was only about four or five years old, and it destroyed my parents. They were the type who thought the oldest child was always the best, but they tolerated me while he was around. After that? Let’s just say I didn’t get many examples of love from them. When they died, I didn’t even care, and I doubt that fact would have bothered them because they didn’t think I was worthy of having an opinion on anything.”

  “That’s awful. You’re not exaggerating just a bit though, are you?”

  “They said those exact words to my face on more than one occasion, starting right after my brother died.”

  Angel’s hand went to her mouth.

  “They never had money. We were living in an economic depression, so that wasn’t unusual. They showed no sign of love for me at all, or to each other, and I promised myself that I was going to fall in love, and live my life for that love. I promised myself I’d be rich, too, but it was more important to be accepted and loved just for being me. Hope gave me that. She was the first person who ever simply accepted me for who I am, and loved me for it unconditionally. If I hadn’t met her, I don’t know where I’d be. I guess I’d still be pretty rich, but there’d be no purpose in having it, or guidance on what to do with all the money I would have had. I never had that issue with Hope. She accepted me and let me be who I needed to be, and gave me a moral center and heart. And she made me laugh. We laughed all the time. It was such a happy home.”

  Angel wiped a tear away from her eye. “She sounds wonderful.” Will could only nod. “What about your son?

  “We wanted so desperately to have children, but we couldn’t, and I found out that the fault was mine. I visited doctors in secret, and nothing helped. I finally found a private researcher who had some different ideas and after I went to him, Hope was expecting not long after. Josh being born was the happiest moment of our lives, and we were very happy people, total opposite of what I grew up with.”

  Will smiled. “He had the most incredible eyes. They were this amazing blue color, like ice reflecting a clear sky, and they had an amazing intensity to them. I’d watch him for hours, because I’d look into that little boy’s eyes and feel like I was looking at a truly amazing soul, one with wisdom and intelligence and knowledge. Somehow, though, he was never able to talk. Our doctors gave up trying to figure out why, because there was nothing physically wrong with him. Hope and I would spend a lot of time with him every day, especially Hope, and we’d read him stories and try to teach him things. We joked that if he ever started talking he’d be the best educated child in history. I’d teach him how to throw different pitches and hit, because I loved baseball and wanted to share that with him. I have no idea if he knew what I was doing or if he’d like baseball if he could play.

  “He never spoke or laughed or cried. Never made a sound. I always wondered why, if maybe it was something I’d done by accident, or if there was something I hadn’t done. I wondered if I’d failed him somehow, failed some parenting test and because of that, he couldn’t speak. That’s one of the things those attacks took from me. I never heard my son’s voice in any form. I wish I could have heard him laugh just once. You know, Hope called me while I was heading home that day, and told me he’d started talking, and I was so emotional about it that she wouldn’t put him on the phone because she feared I’d lose control and crash the car. Maybe I should have insisted, and talked to my son even that one time, and tell him I loved him and was proud of him.”

  Angel’s face was damp with tears. “That was beautiful. I think they both knew how you felt about them. Including your son.”

  Will nodded. “I hope so. Do you understand now why I need to do this? I don’t care if it’s painful. It’s a way to honor their memory by making sure those monsters never hurt anyone else. They denied me my chance to connect with my own child, and I can’t let that happen again.” He glanced at the bottle. “I guess I need to drink this.”

  He took the top off the bottle and started drinking. The liquid was smooth and cool, and tasted minty, not at all what he imagined blood would taste like. He drank the entire bottle, and sat it down.

  After a few minutes, he glanced at Angel. “Will I start to notice everything working?”

  Angel nodded, tears forming. “Sadly, I think you will. And very soon.”

  Will nodded. Then it started.

  A sensation of heat — not a soothing heat, but scorching heat, hot enough to boil water — started in his core and arced out to his extremities, followed by what felt like a razor carving his insides up. He tried to scream in pain, but couldn’t gather the requisite air, his body seeming to shut down in pure shock. The razor sensation seemed to be literally scraping against every internal inch of his body, caring not what it cut or shredded. His limbs moved crazily, as if seeking something to strike as if it would calm the pain, and he understood Fil’s request not to try to kill Angel.

  There was a brief respite, and he was able to breathe for a moment. He noticed the moisture on his skin as he sweated with the strain of the experience, and felt the moisture around his eyes. And he noticed that Fil had returned, laying a comforting hand on Angel’s shoulder, a hand she grasped and held with great firmness. Apparently, he wasn’t always cold and heartless after all.

  Then the next wave hit.

  The materials in the Purge formula found every possible exit from the inside of his body. The sweating was of incredible ferocity, gallons of moisture pouring from his pores. He just had time to smell the foul aromas before material poured from his nose, ending his sense of smell. Fluid seeped out his ears. He retched, if it could be called that; there were no heaves, just a mass exodus of putrescence exiting his mouth. His mind reeled, unable to comprehend what was happening, shrieking for oxygen, unaware that his excretory organs were participating in the expulsion efforts. His limbs lost all control as muscles and tendons spasmed, and he slumped to the ground as if made of jelly, his limbs contorting out of his control.

  He had no idea how long the torture lasted, only that he was suddenly breathing pure, sweet air again, gasping in huge gulps to feed his screaming cells with their fuel. He could not open his eyes out of pure exhaustion, but his ears worked well enough to hear Angel crying, the sobs seeming to come from miles away.

  He sensed footsteps. “We’ll need to clean him,” he heard Fil say, his voice tight.

  “He can’t walk,” Angel said, choking the words out between sobs as she sought to calm herself.

  “I know,” Fil replied. He bent down and picked Will up with ease, and started walking.

  “He looks awful,” Angel whispered. “He smells awful.”

  “I know,” Fil said again, his voice strained, yet patient.

  “Will he ever forgive us? I didn’t know it would be that bad. I tried to warn him, but I still had no idea it would be that bad.”

  “I didn’t either.”

  Will managed to crack his eyes open for just a moment, before the bright sunlight of the outdoors blinded him. His body thoroughly exhausted from the horrific intensity of the Purge, he finally crashed into unconsciousness.

  But not before he’d noticed the single tear sliding down Fil’s cheek.

  The fire still burned in Will as he woke up, but he found it to be a pleasant sensation. It was more akin to a hot w
ashcloth on his face, rather than the burning embers he’d been subjected to, internally and externally, in the past several days.

  He wondered how long he’d actually been here. He’d been asleep a lot, and given the traumas or medications he’d been subjected to prior to each round of sleep, he imagined he could easily have slept twelve hours or longer each session. He’d also been inside the entire time, which meant he had no ability to observe the daylight or the nighttime. He vaguely remembered being carried outside after the Purge had completed, carried somewhere by Fil with Angel following, apparently to clean him from the mess of everything that had come out of him. When it had all ended, he’d caught a brief whiff of the stench and gagged, but there was nothing left in him to vomit up.

  His strangest memory was the sight of the tear on Fil’s cheek. Did the man actually have compassion for his suffering? Overall, he seemed cold and distant, and while he wasn’t specifically seeking friendship, he sensed a deep resentment from Fil, something that was uncomfortable with Will’s presence in their community. Perhaps he believed Will to be a threat in some fashion.

  Regardless of Fil’s opinion of him, Will had work to do, and right now that meant recovering from the trauma of the Purge. His initial assessment was that he definitely felt better. Much better. He felt lighter. His muscles had no knots of tension and moved with greater smoothness. He thought he was seeing with a lot more clarity as well. He moved his hands to adjust his glasses, only to note that they weren’t there. He blinked with surprise, but reminded himself that one of Angel’s magic potions had healed broken bones; there was no reason at this point not to believe the ability of Fil to create something that could perfect his eyesight. His eyesight was now strong enough that he realized, with shock, that his all-white bodysuit actually had streaks of pink in it. He figured that must be Fil having fun with him.

  The warmth he’d noticed inside was still there; what was odd was that it seemed to move and be more intense wherever his concentration focused. When he thought of his eyes, the warmth seemed strongest there. He concentrated on his feet, and his toes tingled. He looked at his hands, and felt them warming, almost seeing something sparking off of them. He cupped his hands together, and felt the warmth grow until he seemed to be holding a ball of fire. Smiling, he went into his pitching windup, turned, and threw the ball of fire at the chair that was standing in for the catcher in his little daydream.