Disclaimer: See chapter 1
Burden of Truth pt4
By Phenyx
05/23/2005
It was night. In the windowless room there was no natural light with which to determine the time. But it had gotten much colder over the last couple of hours. The drop in temperature indicated that the sun had gone down outside.
Miss Parker sat on the floor with her back to the wall. She hugged her knees to her chest in an effort to keep the chill away. Jarod sat only a couple of feet away. His head was bowed low and his arms were folded across his chest as he dozed.
Fidgeting quietly, Miss Parker eased a fraction of an inch closer to the sleeping man. She was close enough to pick up a faint sensation of warmth from his direction. Jarod seemed to radiate heat like a furnace, luring Miss Parker nearer still.
"If you want my coat, just ask," Jarod spoke suddenly. He kept his voice low so as not to wake Sydney or Nicholas.
Miss Parker flinched in surprise. Jarod had not moved and looked as though he was still asleep. Just as Miss Parker was beginning to think she had imagined his voice, Jarod turned and gazed at her with dark, expectant eyes.
He smiled sadly. "You can't bring yourself to ask even that of me, can you?" Jarod asked.
"I'm fine," Miss Parker told him.
"You're cold," Jarod said. "You don't have to be. But you'd rather shiver than admit that I might be able to help you."
"Jarod," Miss Parker began. Jarod cut her off with a shake of his head and a heavy sigh. He straightened enough to pull his arms out of his jacket. Then he leaned toward her and tossed the leather over Miss Parker like a blanket.
Without another word, Jarod stood up and stretched. He hugged his arms around himself and yawned. For several minutes, Jarod simply stood in the middle of the room. He didn't seem to be doing anything in particular, just standing.
Miss Parker watched him wordlessly. The warmth of Jarod's coat was a great relief, comforting and safe. Without realizing it was happening, Miss Parker allowed her eyes to close and she was lulled to sleep by the security she was feeling.
It seemed like only moments later when Miss Parker abruptly snapped awake. She immediately realized that she had not rested for long. Jarod was still standing sentinel where Miss Parker had seen him last. But now, his body was rigid with tension and his head was cocked to one side. Miss Parker had sensed Jarod's sudden alertness and the change in him had woken her.
Miss Parker opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong but Jarod hushed her with a glance. He glided silently across the room and crouched beside the closed door as sounds of movement approached. When the door made a loud click, Miss Parker stood.
The next few moments occurred very quickly. The door swung open and a man with a rifle began to enter. Jarod, hidden behind the opening portal, grabbed the barrel of the gun and used it as a pivot point. With a speed that made him little more than a blur of color, Jarod whirled. The man was yanked off balance and thrown into the wall where Jarod pounced on him. There was a sickening crunch as Jarod bounced the other man's face against the hard surface of the concrete wall.
Another man entered the room. Miss Parker lunged at him while yelling a warning to Jarod at the same time. But it was to no avail. She could not stop the second man before he pulled back the butt of his shotgun and hit Jarod. The wood thudded into the back of Jarod's head and he went down hard.
Jarod's world went gray at the edges as he clutched at his skull. He fought to remain conscious, struggling even more when the grayness faded and was replaced by stars. Grimacing with pain, Jarod rolled on the floor, vaguely aware of the voices around him.
"Son of a bitch," the second man cried as he leaned over his fallen partner.
"Jarod!" Sydney and Miss Parker gasped in unison. Miss Parker reached Jarod first and knelt beside him.
A third man entered the room. He was much older than the first two and had long, dirty gray hair that was pulled into a loose ponytail. The man was thin but muscular, wiry like a scarecrow. His hawkish nose had an odd crookedness to it. It had obviously been broken at least once.
He glared down at the bleeding man on the floor, still unconscious from Jarod's attack. "Is he dead?" the older man asked.
"No," was the reply. "But his jaw is broke for sure."
"Idiot deserves worse," the older man said calmly. "I told you that Jarod would be the first one to try something." The old man stepped over his fallen mate and crouched beside Jarod. Holding his shotgun across his lap with one hand, the man grasped Jarod's chin with the other. "This one has a strong survival instinct," the man continued.
Jarod pulled away from the other man's touch. He instinctively disliked this man. A strange spark in the man's eyes made Jarod's stomach squirm.
Smiling with amusement, the man stood up. "This will be quite interesting," he said. "I wonder how far the boy will go to survive."
"Who are you?" Miss Parker demanded as she rose to her feet. "And why have you brought us here?"
"The good doctor here hasn't told you about me?" the man asked with a sarcastic grin. He turned toward Sydney as he continued to speak. "I'm surprised, Jacob. Have you never entertained your children with the tale?"
Sydney shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sir. But there has been a mistake. My name is Sydney. My brother's name was Jacob. We were twins."
"I know who you are," the man growled. His eyes narrowed as he glared at Sydney. "You don't recognize me." The man laughed in an eerily humorless tone.
"I'm afraid not," Sydney admitted.
The pain in Jarod's head had faded to a dull throbbing but he chose to remain on the floor. He watched the two older men carefully, ready to leap to Sydney's defense should the need arise. Miss Parker stood nearby equally prepared to rush to her old friend's side. Nicholas, completely out of his element, could only look on in befuddled wonder.
"Does the name Ravenhurst mean anything to you?" the old man asked as he twirled the shotgun in his hand.
Sydney swallowed reflexively and stepped back.
The old man nodded. "I see that it does," he said softly.
With a nervous lick of his lips Sydney began, "You've confused me with my brother."
"I KNOW who you are!" The old man screamed. Rage suddenly erupted from the gray-haired being. "I was THERE! I SAW what you did!" he roared. "There was no accident. I planted the device that made the car swerve off the road. I tried to kill you as you had tried to kill me!"
"No," Sydney gasped.
"YES!" The other man raved on. His laughter rose maniacally. "Fate has such a twisted sense of irony, does she not?" he said. "The fire you set in my home did not take my life. But instead it murdered my wife and son. The boy would have been three years old the next day. Did you know that?
DID YOU?" Ravenhurst hollered.
"My brother," Sydney whispered, shaking his head frantically.
Ravenhurst shook his head. "I missed, just as you had." He went on. "And another car arrived on the scene before I could rectify my mistake. It is true that your twin was badly wounded in the incident. But Sydney was not the brother who walked away from the car that night."
"No," Sydney repeated. He held his hands up, palms outward, as though he could ward off the other man's words.
"Oh, but you were good," Ravenhurst pressed on. "You knew that your days were numbered. The Centre had marked you as expendable. Someone had your number in their pocket the way you had carried mine. Switching places with your brother was your only chance. If I had not seen it myself, no one would ever have known."
"You're wrong," Sydney said.
Ravenhurst laughed. "I was watching from the tree-line!" he cried. "I even followed you to the hospital. I would have finished you then but the police caught up to me." The old man nodded sadly. "Oh yes, you were very good. You'd left just enough evidence at the fire to incriminate me. You framed me for the deaths of my family.
I have spent the last thirty years planning my revenge upon you, Jacob," Ravenhurst said. "Three decades in prison have allowed me a long, long time to ponder the problem. I will have my retribution. I will have your life. But not before you have suffered as I did."
The old man made a sweeping gesture at the other three captives. "I have brought you here Jacob, to watch them die," Ravenhurst said. "The child of your flesh, the child of your heart, and the child you have sworn to protect. All will lie at your feet, cold and bloodless."
"Please no," Sydney begged.
"I shall grant you a favor, Jacob," Ravenhurst continued. "In deference to our old acquaintance." He smiled cruelly. "You may choose the first."
Sydney's eyes grew wide. "What?" he gasped.
Ravenhurst shrugged. "Pick the one who will die first."
"No."
"Yes," Ravenhurst demanded in an icy tone. "You will choose. I shall return in three hours at which time you will tell me which of these children is to lead the others into the afterlife. If you refuse, I will rape the girl, castrate the boys and force you to pick anyway."
"You're mad," Sydney hissed.
"Quite," Ravenhurst agreed. "It is a prerequisite of Centre employ, is it not?" With a nod to his henchman, Ravenhurst ordered that the fallen man be dragged away. A moment later, the door slammed shut leaving the four prisoners alone once more.
A heavy silence filled the room as the group stared at one another in shock. It was Miss Parker who acted first. Her high heels clicking sharply as she stepped up to the psychiatrist.
"Is it true?" she asked in brittle single syllables.
"Miss Parker," her old friend began. "I can explain."
"Is it true?" Her voice rose as she repeated the question.
"You don't understand," he exclaimed.
"Are you Sydney?" Miss Parker cried.
The older man shrugged. "I have been for many, many years."
"LIAR!" With a scream, Miss Parker launched herself at her target. She shoved him against the wall and began flailing blindly. "Liar, liar, liar!" She made contact more than once, her small fists doing noticeable damage. In her rage, she could see nothing, hear nothing. She knew nothing but the bitter betrayal that burned through her veins. Another loved one had lied to her.
Suddenly there was a band of steel around her waist and a well-muscled arm hauled her away. Miss Parker kicked and screamed incoherently as she was dragged off of her stunned victim. Instinct drove her, urging her to lash out with all the fury she was feeling within. She wanted to fight but the arm around her middle was joined by another across her shoulders. She was pinned against a wall of sinew. Struggling fruitlessly, Miss Parker arched her back and cried out in despair.
It was the smallest of sounds that brought her back to her senses. Somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, the noise was so soft as to barely register as such. And yet, in that strangled intake of air was an eternity's worth of anguish.
Miss Parker slumped limply as the fight drained from her body. She twisted in Jarod's arms and buried her face in his shirt. When the tears came, they were quiet heart-wrenching sobs. They clung to one another, Jarod and Miss Parker, as they wallowed in the pain of this newest revelation.
Miss Parker was only vaguely aware of the cement wall at her back. She was pressed into a corner as Jarod hunched protectively over her. She could feel Jarod trembling. Some part of her mind registered the fact that he was crying soundlessly.
Miss Parker was amazed at his silence. How often had Jarod grieved in this manner? How many times had he wept without a sound, with no outward sign save for this slight shivering of his body? To hide his misery from the cameras, Jarod had learned to attain this small measure of privacy.
"Jarod?" The voice, heavily laden with its Belgian accent, was gravelly and woeful.
"Please don't," Jarod whispered in a deceptively calm tone. "Don't." Still holding Miss Parker close, Jarod turned to gaze mournfully at his old mentor. "Don't tell us more lies, Sydney." He gasped in pain for a moment then rephrased the statement. "Whoever you are, please don't lie to us anymore."
End part 4