Hope of the Future Read online

  Kaden stared at her as if dealing with an unruly child. “That is the way you wish to see it. So that is the way it is in your mind. But that’s not reality.”

  “Stop acting like I’m a mental case and talking in circles. It’s not in my mind as you keep implying. If anyone’s mind is messed up, it’s yours.”

  “How’s that head feel? Or rather, your neck?”

  Hope didn’t have to think about it. “What did you do?”

  Kaden’s grin slid over his lips like a Cheshire cat. “Added an extra precaution to make sure you stay under control and I don’t lose you again, sweetiekins. Though I guess it’s not about the control part. Can’t get it up can ya babe? Poor kiddo.”

  Hope screamed at him, “What did you do?”

  He shrugged. “Implanted a barbed tracking device with a few extras.”

  Hope struggled against the ropes and cussed him out. “Is that why my neck hurts? Asshole.”

  Barbed tracking devices were implanted—typically—in animals, but many people in the past had begun using them to keep track of their children as well. The tracker worked like trackers implanted under skin in the old days, but the barbed were harder to remove.

  The barbed implants bonded with the recipient and needed a tedious surgery to remove. Try to remove them without understanding how, and the individual was left with a massive hole in their body. Often that hole didn’t heal.

  The extras Kaden mentioned that would keep her under control were not things that would work on her if she could access her power. On that front, he was right. She couldn’t “get it up” as he said. Not unless she wanted to blow herself up.

  The extras he mentioned were used in the military to keep soldiers under control, but they also gave them added strength and speed. The military extras were brought in before Darrok’s rule and scientists learned that an Amaranthine with those inside of them became super soldiers.

  The problem for Hope was that like e-cuffs, which had been instilled also in the military usage first, the tracker sapped her energy and made her weak. With a device like that implanted in her, even if she wanted to use her powers, she couldn’t. She was rendered human. A reminder shoved back in her face to torment her. Even if she had powers to use.

  Will I ever be able to use them again?

  “Face it, Hope. You’re not getting away from me anytime soon. I should’ve done it long ago, but who would’ve thought you’d live? If you refuse to die, I’ll make money off you instead.”

  “Was there something important you wanted, Kaden? Or are you going to bore me to death? Make better use of your time.”

  Kaden clenched his jaw, furious that she’d speak to him that way, but more because she wasn’t cooperating. He advanced on her and struck her again, reopening the cut on her cheek.

  The blood tickled a path down her cheek. “I bet that’s the only way you know how to treat a woman. I find it hilarious. Hit me again, since it’s the only foreplay you got.”

  Kaden raised his hand and paused. She met his stare and said nothing, daring him to strike her again. He shook his head and put distance between him and the temptation. “That’s the difference between you and I. I know how to hold back. You don’t.”

  “I hold myself back fine. I keep from calling you a pompous know-it-all ass, don’t I? Or a selfish jerk who needs to go back in time to tell his mommy to kill him. Have I said any of that before? No.”

  “If they weren’t paying me such good money I’d kill you right now. This world doesn’t need you in it. You are a waste of body. Nobody wants you, or haven’t you figured that out yet. You’re not important.”

  “I’m important to your wallet.” She glanced at his pocket.

  No matter how he tried to cut her down, she wouldn’t allow it and that fueled his rage even more. He stared at the defiant face in front of him and wondered why he bothered. His eye twitched. He combed a hand through his hair. He wanted her hopeless.

  “That’s it isn’t it? You already have so little hope for the world that you don’t care about yourself at all,” Kaden said as if he felt so sad for her. “That’s why you keep fighting me. It’s because you know there is nothing for you in this world. You wanted to die when I left you there. So . . . why didn’t you?”

  And with that, he received what he craved so much. The life drained from her and her strength shriveled up into the small place that claimed her over and over again. She no longer saw him, but her past. Hope saw the man Kaden had worked for and the child she lost. Tears welled up and though she fought them, a few trickled downward.

  Hope turned away and whispered, “I don’t know.”

  Kaden took great pleasure in his final win. “Well, you get your wish. Once those scientists get all the information they need from your body, they’ll take you apart until there’s nothing left of you to identify. They'll place you into plenty of little jars to study for years to come. Won’t that be great?” Mister peppy all of a sudden.

  Hope scowled at him through tear-rimmed eyes. “Fuck. Off.”

  “We’re waiting to get word.” He shrugged and as he left, he said, “In the meantime, I’m guessing we should keep you fairly healthy.”

  TWENTY SEVEN

  A WEEK AND HUNDREDS of miles later, Kaden made the announcement that they were stopping at a safe house to make the switch. He refused to allow Hope to sleep, taunting her at every turn, forcing her to stay awake.

  Most of the time Kaden made sure she was awake by shouting her name over and over again when he spoke. He wanted to talk to her just to talk, and not allow her to sleep. If it wasn’t him, it was one of his men. Then when Hope glared at him, he smiled like he was the happiest boy on the planet, opening presents Christmas morning with the folks.

  “I’m trying to help the ride go quicker for ya, Hopester.”

  “Then let me out. It won’t seem as long, baby.”

  “I will when I’m paid to.”

  Hope didn’t go along with him in his conversations anymore until he demanded it. If she still refused, one of his men prodded her until she cooperated.

  They reached their destination at long last and the men dragged Hope from the back of the truck. They took her inside a grungy, worn down, abandoned warehouse. Hope examined the place on her way in to find a way out, but then the butt of a gun hit her in the back of the head and her world went dark.

  Hours later, Hope woke tied to a cot. The cot was lying at a downward angle from broken legs at the foot area. With her wrists were bound against the top railing, she felt like she was on display in an oddity museum.

  A small lantern couldn’t extinguish all the shadows, nor did the smoke rid the stench of moldy dampness that surrounded her. Hope rather hoped the mold would seep into her body and kill her in however many hours she’d be stuck in this hellhole. If the mold damaged her system, that too, would be great.

  Outside the room, which had no door, were a bunch of male voices. They were arguing, but Hope couldn’t make them out until they got much closer.

  “—understand how tough this whole process must have been for you.” The voices approached the door, but Hope didn’t know the speaker. “We appreciate the hard work and plan to make sure you are rewarded for your efforts.”

  “Because it matters? I want the agreed upon cash so I can go. You can see her to make sure no harm has come to her, then give me my money,” Kaden said.

  The shadows loomed in the doorway. The light in her face cast shadows over the doorway. Hope blinked, trying to see their faces and who they were. It was the scientists Kaden had talked about, or someone who worked for them.

  They moved into the room and a short man stopped at the end of the cot. He was much shorter than Kaden, who stood at least six feet tall, and wore glasses. Everything screamed mad scientist.

  Hope snorted under her breath. Kaden glared at her from his dark corner. Another figure approached the doorway, but stood in the shadows, almost taking up the entire door. Kaden stepped further away from t
he man. By the way he held himself, mister newbie was the backup.

  “Come to inspect the merchandise? My body. Not yours.”

  Kaden chuckled. “Don’t mind her. Grumpy pants isn’t the most cooperative person in the world.”

  Mad Scientist turned to Kaden. “Are any of them? We’ve been studying them for years and rarely does one cooperate. It is a specimen and nothing more. I do not need it cooperative. I will study its body and determine if it will be viable for birthing again. If so, how it is possible.”

  Hope rolled her eyes. “You can get a hard on over someone else. You come near me with a knife and I will do the chop-chop-chopping. I’m not helping you or any part of this world figure out how to have children.”

  The scientist cocked his head. “Who gave the specimen the impression we wanted to help women of this world have children?”

  Hope struggled to swallow. The complete lack of emotion brought chills to her body. How could someone who wanted to understand why she could have children, not want to help—

  “You want to stop women from ever having the chance at children.”

  In the dim light, it was almost impossible to see the little man’s smile creep across his face, but she did. “It is smart. I can appreciate that.” Dismissing her, he turned to Kaden. “You are sure it’s viable? There is no question? This is the one you spoke of?”

  “You think I would have wasted my time? It is the one.” Kaden decided to refer to her as a nothing as did the scientist. “Trust me. There is no other.”

  The small man nodded. “Satisfactory. It seems in better health than I imagined.”

  “Yes,” Kaden said with so much disgust it may as well be oozing out of his body in gloopy drops. “Seems it always has been healthy.”

  “Ahem,” Hope dragged their attention back over to her. When she had their attention, she screamed as loud as she could, “Why don’t you want women to have children?”

  The scientist stared at her until she quieted. Staying as calm as before, he replied, “Why would we allow Amaranthine females to produce on their own? We can manufacture perfect specimens that will last no more than a year. To the highest bidder, we will provide a great opportunity to have a child. If they wish to keep their child around, they may go through the auction once more. Darrok’s men will provide the shot that will allow another year. Every year, we start again.”

  Hope gagged. They wanted to manufacture a child, then take it away from the mother if she couldn’t afford to pay the highest bid each year. What was wrong with these people? Mothers had to pay to have their child for one more year?

  You people are insane.

  What didn’t make sense was where Darrok stood in all this. He didn’t want the world to have a child without paying him for it like rental space, but he expected to have his own children at will? Who was this man? What did he gain from having a child?

  Hope refocused. No way, she was not going down that path. “That’s disgusting. You’d make a child who would only last as long as you choose. How is that even possible? You need men and women for that.”

  “This is what the body of the specimen is for. It will tell us what we lack and how to finish the process of manufacturing eggs.” He turned back to Kaden, once more dismissing her. “Shall we deal? I am most eager to hook it up and get knowledge.”

  Kaden clapped the man on the back, but snatched his hand back the very instant his hand made contact. From the disgust on the little man’s face, the scientist didn't like to be touched.

  “Let’s go outside and take care of the transaction. Your man here can sit with it.” Kaden winked at her on his way out.

  The scientist nodded and they left Hope alone without acknowledging her. “You’re both assholes,” Hope said. “I’ll find a way to destroy your precious little body you wish to dissect before you can touch it. And you’d better be sure as hell that goes for screwing with any test you put me through while I’m alive.”

  Never once paying attention to her angry threats, they exited the room without another glance. The man who’d stayed in the doorway entered the room with the grace of a cat, being a little too quiet for his size. By sheer size, he shrunk the room and seemed to gobble up all empty space. He stopped at the end of the cot and watched her. Half his face was burnt into filth.

  Instead of being repulsed, she thought it interesting. He had a metal plate on his cheek, and wires that kept his jaw together. The giant was menacing. She wasn’t afraid of him, she knew monsters and often they didn’t look like monsters, they looked like friends.

  “I hope you don’t think you’re getting into my pants there, big boy. Not. Happening. I’ll make sure you need far more of that wire to hold your jaw together when I’m done with you.”

  Big boy seemed amused by her comment. “Fun,” came the gurgle beneath the metal on his face. Hope was surprised he could talk, and it sounded somewhat normal. Except for the slight wheeze-gurgle his mouth made.

  Hope smiled. “I think I like you.”

  “Oh?”

  “I can tell you’d love to kill me. That’s why the little man keeps you around. I bet he calls you, ‘it,’ like everyone else. You kill me and we’ll be besties. Rip my body into little pieces that they can’t dissect and I’ll really love you.”

  The man stared at her and murmured, “Won’t happen.”

  “Can’t even find a serial killer who will kill you. Geesh.”

  One of his shoulders raised. “Got money?”

  Hope’s eyebrows jerked up. She jerked her wrists, bound against the railing as if to say, does it look like I’m carrying money. “I can get money. What if I did let you play with me? Would you kill me then?”

  He shook his head. “No. Not enough.”

  “Why’d you freakin’ ask?”

  “Would have stolen,” he said with a smirk.

  “And left me alive, right?” He nodded. “You know that doesn’t make you a very good serial killer,” she grumbled beneath her breath.

  “Know my name?”

  “And I would know that how?”

  “Bob . . . the Builder.”

  He said it so low Hope didn’t think she heard him, then it sank in. When it did, all hope for an escape through this man abandoned her.

  Named after the popular cartoon character of old, Bob the Builder was the worst serial killer the world had ever known. Far worse than Bundy, and a man who would’ve made Ed Gein look like he played in the minor leagues.

  Bob the Builder stacked up enough bodies in his entire lifetime to put others to shame. They nicknamed him Bob the Builder because he loved to build things from the bones of his victims and sell them as high-priced items. He ground the bones into a powder, which he would then make into his own stone furniture. The skin of his victims was used for tops to unique drum sets, and far worse things that Hope refused to acknowledge.

  Before he became famous for his killings, people thought he was “slow” and simple. Everyone who met him loved him, and took him in when he needed a place to stay. Soon after, those same people went missing. The Hunters would find Bob, and the authorities would find another home for him and his unique furniture making skills.

  Bob always lived alone, but people weren’t discouraged from stopping by his house. He sold his furniture through the shop in his basement, but Bob didn't allow anyone in that part of the house. Soft grinding came from the basement at all hours of the day, but the neighbors never suspected anything suspicious. They figured he was sanding wood for “the beautiful furniture he makes.”

  The neighbors came to his defense when he was first accused. Many testified that he was no harm to anyone. He was a gentle giant who the kids loved to hang out with, and who they loved to help make furniture.

  Bob never dated women for long. Nobody ever knew the women he brought by his house. Later discovered that those women were conned into coming to his home with the promise of him taking care of them. When the investigators ordered tests, they discovered Bob wasn’t
so simple after all. In fact, he had a genius IQ and was a master manipulator.

  The girls he brought home were homeless and in desperate need of attention. They saw him as a sweet man, who’d do them no wrong, so they came willingly. Bob destroyed them day-by-day and took them apart bit-by-bit, making them into the cheapest furniture he sold, and he sold those pieces at a bargain.

  Bob felt that they represented such a low place in society, they didn’t deserve to be made into high quality items. To him, women didn’t allow themselves to be used that way. His freezer was always well stocked with meat people remarked was the best they’d ever tasted: tender, fresh, pure.

  Bob loved money. His house was simple, but it was large.

  What made him famous weren’t the killings, but the way everyone loved him. Enough that during the trials, during the convictions, they never thought he could do it. When proved time and again that his furniture was made from body parts, and the meat in his freezer was human. He had manipulated everyone so much that that alone made him a place in history.

  “No way is Bob a serial killer. He’s such a gentle giant. Someone must have set him up. I smell conspiracy.”

  They hailed it one of the biggest conspiracy theories of all time. He gave money to orphanages all the time so he was never capable of murder. Bob was the go-to man for the best homemade furniture.

  It couldn’t have been Bob.

  Hope shuddered. After his conviction, nobody heard what happened to him. He disappeared. People thought he faced lethal injection. By the look of his face, Bobby had been through a fire, or somehow had his face burnt in an accident. Who knew how it happened, but she wondered if the scientists had been tinkering with him because of the way his jaw was wired.

  Hope swallowed a few times and then cleared her throat. “You can stop that.”

  “What?” he asked in childlike amusement.

  “You’ve established you won’t kill me. So tough luck. I’ve had worse around me.” She glanced at the door, contemplating an escape.