Nemesis: Book Six Read Free Page B

for him to believe.
    But that inability to disbelieve didn't mean he understood everything, because Bryan was a complete mystery to him. Wren watched as the boy walked around him, making his way to the fucking bed again. Wren found himself growing angry at it, as if a piece of furniture actually caused his frustration at Bryan. The anger only grew, though, because every time Bryan did this, he went to the bed. Had he gone to the window and stared outside, Wren would have begun hating the glass.
    His anger truly grew from the desperation he felt at Bryan.
    The kid was broken and not willing to fight to fix himself. Wren certainly wasn't any professional in that regard, but he was doing his damnedest right now; Wren was keeping it together, for Michael if no one else, and this kid was acting like a pre-teen going through his first fucking breakup.
    Wren didn't know what happened just now, why Bryan went from speaking to silence in only a few seconds, but in doing so he shut Michael up as well. So much rested inside the boy now sleeping—or feigning sleep. He connected Wren to his son, and his son to the rest of the world. Bryan had Morena's knowledge, or what he was allowed to gather while he'd been possessed, but Michael was different from that.
    Had been different for quite some time.
    Michael was … connected. Wren didn't know to what, nor did he know how, but he was different than the rest of them. And Bryan halted that connection when he shut himself down. That connection might allow Michael to do something.
    Wren still looked at Bryan; the boy's eyes were closed. Wren didn't know if he slept or not, though he wasn't sure much difference existed between wakefulness and sleep for Bryan anymore.
    Something had to be done about him. The conclusion appeared on the horizon of Wren's mind like a blood sunrise, casting light across the world, but red and frightening.
    Something, but what?
    Michael lived inside the boy, and what was Wren thinking?
    Are you going to harm him? Linda said. Is that what you're seriously considering?
    He didn't know, not completely. He didn't want to hurt Bryan, but this couldn't continue—he needed to jumpstart whatever Michael was able to do, because in the end, only Michael mattered. Not Bryan. Not Wren. Not the rest of the world. Only Michael's survival.
    Jesus, Wren, his dead wife said.
    "Shut the fuck up," he whispered. She wasn't here having to make these decisions. She didn't have to watch all of this, unable to do anything. So she didn't get to judge, not now, not while he stood here sober, at last, trying to save their son.
    Even what she said didn't matter—not anymore, because she wasn't Michael.

4
    Present Day
    " T hanks ," Will yelled to the front of the helicopter. He stood at the door, ready to make the jump.
    Thumbs up from the pilot. No other communication. That had been his relationship with the man in the cockpit, hand signals, and when Will jumped from the chopper, their relationship ended. Another person Will would never see again. How many pilots had there been like this?
    What the hell are you thinking about?
    He didn't know, or rather, didn't know why . He stared out of the helicopter at the white ground five feet below him.
    This is what it's like when you see death .
    He wasn't staring at Morena in all her terrifying glory. He looked at white strands growing over each other where once existed a town called Grayson. He looked into nothingness and his subconscious couldn't stop understanding that this was it. That when he hopped out of this helicopter, no cavalry would show up to save him. Jumping from this machine was no different than a kamikaze pilot flying into a ship.
    He had stood here long enough, so long that the pilot had to be wondering if something was wrong.
    Will jumped, his suit fully attached, and landed on the relatively soft sponge beneath. His boots began shooting their endless cold, attacking the space around him. Will turned and watched as the helicopter