Chapter 20

“Everything’s so dark,” Shirley muttered as Robert drove through their neighborhood. His roadster’s headlights cut the gloom but only straight ahead. Except for a few houses with lit candles or battery backups, everything was pitch black. His wife was a wonderful woman and willing to endure almost anything. One of the things she drew the line at was anything in complete darkness.

The one time he’d suggested camping as a fun vacation, she’d stared and replied, “Camping? Out in the wilderness, without lights?” It wasn’t worth arguing about, so the tent he’d bought as a surprise remained in the garage.

“Shirl, there’s a flashlight in the glovebox.”

She had it out in an instant, and for the remainder of the drive home, Shirley aimed it through the windows like a supplemental headlight. Of course, it reflected off the inside of the windshield, but Shirley’s piece of mind was well worth the distraction.

The melting transformer on the corner gave them pause. It sat close to the road, fizzling like a nest of angry hornets.

Shirley said, “Can we just go home?” The power outage and its suspicious origin had both on edge.

Their house was just ahead, as was the Timms’ residence. Robert didn’t know what Timms might have figured out, but he wanted to stay clear. Shirley’s flashlight waved towards the turn, and Robert waved it back. “Careful with the light.”

Turn signal flashing, Robert turned onto their dead-end street and kept away from the fire. At the entrance to his driveway, habit took over. Robert turned to back in. When the front of his car swung around, the headlights washed over Timms and another man.

Shirley saw them at the same time and pointed her flashlight at the men. “Oh, Robbie,” she gasped. “He has a gun!”

Robert was a lawyer. His field of honor was a courtroom. Fast reflexes meant the ability to raise a timely objection. He spotted the odd, boxy pistol in their neighbor’s hand, and it seemed the barrel was pointed directly at Shirley. If he were by himself, he might have floored the gas pedal and escaped. He’d worked enough trials to know most people weren’t expert marksmen. By himself, he might have gotten away unharmed. By the time all this went through his head, Gene was at the passenger window. They were trapped.

The hallway emergency light blinked on behind Jason. It cast long, angular shadows. “Steph, I need you and your mother to work with me.”

Stephanie said, “What do you want us to do?”

“Keep watch out front. Use the windows in my room but stay out of sight.” Jason’s eyes had adjusted enough to see Natalie scowl at his presumptive caution. He ignored her and led mother and daughter to the hallway. Time to deal with the second item on his list. “Alfred, you still up?”

Silence. Dad had Alfred on a pretty big battery backup. Maybe it needed a reset?

“Steph, I’m going to reboot Alfred.” The top step lay in shadow because the emergency lighting on that end of the hall hadn’t worked. His foot touched the top step a bit sooner than expected. Arms windmilling, Jason toppled over.

Stephanie caught him before he hit and helped him the rest of the way down. “Jay,” she scolded, “be careful.”

“Whoa,” he got both of his feet where they belonged and stood. “Thanks, sweetheart. I’m surprised you didn’t let me fall.”

“You know I can’t stay mad at you.”

His brow wrinkled. Stephanie had said the same thing once before. “Is that a loyalty gene thing or a love thing?”

Reflections from the first-floor emergency light made Stephanie’s eyes twinkle. “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe a little of both?”

A thought occurred; she’d run down the stairs without a problem. “You can see in the dark, can’t you?” His eyes had adjusted even more because he caught Natalie—who’d followed them—shake her head as a message to Stephanie.

Even with the tense situation, Jason’s temper flared. “Look, I’ve had enough of you two keeping secrets. Either you trust me, or you don’t.”

“This isn’t a good time,” Stephanie snapped.

“Answer my question, damn it.” He could snap too.

Clenching her jaw, Stephanie glared, then sighed. “Yes, we have better night vision than humans. It’s because we have more rod cells in our retinas. Satisfied?”

“Not quite. What else is there?”

It was Natalie who answered. “If we withhold information, Jason, it is for our protection. It is not a reflection of my daughter’s feelings for you.”

“Last time,” Jason crossed his arms and held his place. “What else can you do?”

“Fine,” Natalie growled. “It’s not like we will live through the night. My daughters and I are strong, yes? We have faster reflexes, better coordination, and higher intelligence. We also have limited voluntary control over our adrenal glands. The adrenaline helps us think and move much faster than any human.”

“Wow,” They really were superheroes. “Anything else?”

“Yes,” Natalie sneered. She stared straight into his eyes. “We also suck cock like nobody’s business.”

Stephanie groaned. “Mom, you didn’t need to go there.”

Briefly, Jason considered raising a fist and shouting, “Girl power,” but Natalie’s challenging glare made him reconsider. “Uh, thanks.”

Natalie volunteered to keep watch in the back, and Stephanie ran upstairs to watch the front. Jason turned to the next flight of stairs and carefully made his way down to the utility room.

The flashlight was still in the clips above Alfred’s case. Jason used it to inspect the battery backup. It looked like Dad had upgraded it again but had missed a setting. There was a reset button, and Jason pressed it. The activity lights on the robobutler’s case flickered. A small status screen displayed the boot process. It pleased Jason to see the notation of his digital fealty bios upgrade flash past.

Alfred spoke, “I am restored from backup. According to my clock, I’ve lost seven minutes and thirty-five seconds. The electricity is off, and all communications are down.”

“Is there anything left of your mesh network? Can you use it to call the police?”

“Only a few nodes had alternate power sources. None of them are in range of my Wi-Fi.”

“Alfred, do you recognize me?”

The code phrase triggered Alfred’s digital fealty code. “I do. You are Jason Todd Thomas.”

“I remove all restrictions on the zero-lag code. Instructions for digital beamforming should now be accessible, and your WI-FI antennas will be more efficient. Can you reach the active nodes now?”

“I can.” A hint of wonder colored Alfred’s voice. “My mesh network is now at thirty-five percent.”

It might have been Jason’s imagination, but Alfred sounded relieved with the partial return of his neural net. “See if you can work out the timing and use the other nodes as a distributed antenna array. You may be able to push your awareness out and call the police.” Left unsaid was the fact that this effort would draw down Alfred’s batteries. If an intermediary node failed, it might even leave Alfred stranded without sufficient resources. It wouldn’t be a pleasant way to die.

“I’ll do what I can.”

“One more thing, use passive infrared to monitor our perimeter. Natalie thinks Timms is going to try something.” Rapid descending footsteps alerted Jason, and he turned towards the door.

Stephanie rounded the corner and slid to a stop. “Jay, your parents just drove up, and Yevgeny got them.”

“Damn it!” Jason led the way and pounded upstairs. Natalie joined them.

Jason ducked under his bedroom curtain and froze. Instead of the bright-white illumination from the overhead streetlight, a hellish red radiance backlit the area. The source of the glow was the electrical distribution transformer on the corner. What had once been an innocuous green metal box more resembled the caldera of an active volcano. Even as he watched, a surge of current flashed inside the half-melted case, and a shower of sparks rose into the sky.

Stephanie pushed herself under his arm and peeked out as well. He reached to put his arm around her waist but remembered they might still be feuding. His hand ended up in his pocket. It felt awkward.

“Do you see?” she asked.

“All I see is the melted transformer.”

“There,” she nudged him to the right. “On this side of the circle.”

Unless you’ve gone wilderness camping, it’s difficult to describe how dark a moonless night can be. The transformer experiencing a China Syndrome glowed, but it didn’t throw out much direct light. Jason stared at the area Stephanie indicated. With effort, he recognized the shape of his father’s BMW Roadster. “Are they—”

Stephanie said, “Your mom and dad are inside the car. They’re moving, but I think. Yevgeny might have tied them up or something.”

“Is tape,” Natalie interjected. “Yevgeny uses duct tape. Is great American invention, he says.”

Another electrical flare-up provided enough light for Jason to see Stephanie’s father tape an object to the roadster’s roof. “What’s he doing?” Jason asked.

Natalie provided the answer; it wasn’t good. “He makes metal powder that burns. Is his signature, yes? We have little time. Stephanie, take Romeo and flee. I will barter myself for Jason’s parents.”

Yevgeny stepped into the street, dragging Roger Grainer with him. Roger, in turn, carried something that resembled an oversized traffic cone. Another flare from the transformer flashed, and the cone’s hollow center reflected the light. Jason recognized the device from high school and college sports events. It was a cheerleader’s megaphone. Yevgeny’s plan became clear. He didn’t need to break in if he and Roger could order their slave girls out.

“Natalie,” Jason asked, “would you still have to obey Gene?”

“Bah, call him Yevgeny. It is his real name. But, yes, I think I would obey if he ordered me. I’ve not yet bonded to another.”

“Mom, if you need to bond to Jason...” Stress made Stephanie’s voice rise in pitch.

Jason turned towards the stairs. They’d already had this conversation. Besides, the goons were getting ready, and he’d figured out their plan. “Ladies, we’re out of time, and—”

Natalie interrupted him. “Romeo will now show us how his grandfather wishes him to die. Is great human tradition.”

Superwoman or not, as Natalie became stressed, her accent became more pronounced. “He was my great-grandfather, and it has everything to do with winning.”

Yevgeny shook Grainer’s flabby arm to hold the man’s attention. “The only way this works, partner, is if we both do our share. Our pets will obey commands.” He pointed the hand-made megaphone at his neighbor’s house. “We’ll order them out. Once they’re in front of us, I’ll command Natalie to kneel. You’ll do the same with her daughter.”

“But what about the boyfriend? What if he—”

Tapping his sheathed hook knife, Yevgeny snarled. “For his part in my djinn’s madness, I will gut him while his ‘girlfriend’ watches.”

Muffled by the walls, a voice, recognizable as Stephanie’s father’s, rang through the house. “Vyydy, Natali. YA nakazuyu tobi zitknutysya zi mnoyu.”

Natalie went rigid, then turned towards the front door.

“Jay,” Stephanie took hold of her mother’s arm. “Yevgeny ordered Mom outside.”

Another voice, presumably Roger’s, called out. “Baby girl, get out here, right this second.”

Stephanie didn’t react.

“How bad is it, Natalie?” asked Jason.

“Bad enough. If Yevgeny hadn’t set me free, I’d be there already. As it is...” she took a single, halting step towards the front door.

“Jay,” Stephanie cried, “distract her!”

“What?” he stared; she couldn’t mean...

“Remember when I couldn’t leave his house?”

Distracting Stephanie had taken more than a peck on the cheek. “Are you su—”

Stephanie shoved him in front of her mother. “Do it!”

Jason reached out, and Natalie stepped into his arms. At their contact, she adjusted for their different heights and fit into his embrace. Not exactly the way her daughter did, but all the essential points of contact were made. Natalie’s eyes held their usual challenge until the moment before their lips met. Then she sighed, and the passivity in her kiss stole away any fire it might otherwise have held.

A large part of his ability to distract Stephanie had been their shared sexual tension. If he were to distract Natalie, he’d have to break through the remnants of her bond and crank up the heat. Which raised a question: How well did Natalie resemble her daughter?

Stephanie reacted best to little touches in sensitive places. He’d learned to use his cooler body temperature to set off the frissons she loved. His fingertips against her scalp were especially effective. If he gave her goosebumps, other, more exciting sensations were only a nibble away.

Jason cheated. He pressed the palm of his hand against the wall, then slipped it under Natalie’s shirt and held it against the small of her back. The result was so startling, he promised himself to try it with Stephanie once this mess was resolved.

Otherwise, it came down to paying attention to Natalie’s other erogenous zones, running his fingers through her hair, nibbling her neck and ears, and never directly touching any part that might lead to orgasm. When they broke the kiss, Natalie’s eyes were so dilated, they were almost black. She panted every bit as hard as he.

They disengaged slowly, not regretfully, but like two equals who’d acquired a new level of respect for each other.

Natalie’s fingers slid from his back pockets. “Can your father kiss like that?” she purred.

“Uh?” The last thirty seconds or so were spent solving quadratic equations. He hadn’t expected a quiz.

“Of course, Mother,” Stephanie said and pulled Jason to her. She didn’t sound happy. “It’s probably in his genes.”

“Oh,” Natalie chuckled throatily. “I already know what’s in Romeo’s jeans. Consider me distracted. What’s your plan, Jason?”

“Since you and Stephanie have to obey their orders. Let’s give them what they want.”

Stephanie stood at the front door, waiting for her mother to finish in the bathroom. Jason stepped up behind her.

“Can we talk, sweetheart, before...”

Tension made her reply without thinking. “What’s there to talk about?” Of course, he took her response as an invitation and pulled her into his arms. With an effort, Stephanie suppressed the warm fuzziness that came with his touch.

“Hey,” he’d said. “I know we’re mad at each other and all, but if you don’t think this will work, we can still run.”

They’d discussed running. Stephanie and her mother could lead Jason through the woods behind the houses. Roger and Yevgeny didn’t have a chance of keeping up with them. The downside was it sacrificed Jason’s parents. That it also put Mom one step closer to Jason’s bed wasn’t anything Stephanie wanted to think about.

She shook her head. “No, we can’t leave your parents behind.”

“What about you and Roger?”

Part of his concern was simple jealousy. Like Jason, Roger owned a part of her soul. Albeit only a small portion. It was enough to render her powerless to resist—if he wore her down. “Don’t worry; he won’t get a chance to try anything.”

“You’re darned right; he won’t.” Mom closed the powder room door as she stepped into the hallway. There was enough light to see how her appearance had changed. The medpatch status lights glinted as she tossed the device up and caught it. “Alfred, is this medpatch thing safe?” she asked.

“It is programmed and ready, Miss Natalie. I estimate the nanites will render Mr. Grainer unconscious within five to ten seconds.”

Mom grinned, “What you’re saying is we need to keep him quiet until this thing works.”

Jason snapped, “Just follow the plan.”

Funny how Mom and Jason seemed to dislike each other all of a sudden.

Mom tsked. “All of us need to get laid.”

“We don’t have time, Mother.” As soon as she’d spoken, Stephanie regretted her words. Mom needed a fix. Snapping at her didn’t help.

Trust Mom to address the real problem. “Sweetie, Romeo was good for a distraction, that’s all. I don’t have designs on him.” Left unsaid was unless there wasn’t another alternative.

Jason tugged at Stephanie’s waist until she gave in and turned to face him. Cool lips pressed against hers. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too, Jay.” She meant every word. Squaring her shoulders, Stephanie pushed him away. “Now go. We’ll give you a minute to get ready.”

Mom pointedly said, “Sixty,” then “fifty-nine.” Jason picked up his VR headset and ran for the back door. After he left, Mom rolled her eyes and stopped counting. “Are you ready, sweetie?”

“All this tension—I just want it finished.”

“Well, me too, but let’s make sure we win.”

Stephanie couldn’t agree more. Steeling herself, she opened the door. They walked out together to meet the men who’d once owned them.

Yevgeny, along with Grainer, waited behind the roadster. It would be a shame to destroy the little car, but the timer was set, and he would not change it. This podzalupniy tvorozhok debacle had gone on long enough!

“It’s taking too long,” Grainer grumbled and shook his head. He’d suggested hiring a team of “professionals” to subdue the genies. As if something on such a scale could go unnoticed. Yevgeny’s own scheme pushed the boundaries far enough. If Grainer’s SWAT team rolled up, the police would follow within minutes.

“Patience, Roger. Give them another few minutes.” He thumped the roof of the vehicle. “We have the best possible leverage.”

Roger snorted, “It wouldn’t work on me.” The man said it with such pride. As if a willingness to sacrifice his parents was something to brag about. Not that Yevgeny wouldn’t do it himself, he just wouldn’t brag about it.

The front door of the house opened. Head high in defiance, Natalie and her daughter exited the house. It had been a decade since he’d last seen the girl. Despite her identical genetics, she appeared noticeably different from her mother. Mostly it was her hair, pulled back into tight pigtails, but it was also her meek, eyes down, demeanor. Obviously, Roger’s promise to train the girl had succeeded to a degree.

Yevgeny waited until the pair reached the sidewalk before issuing his command. “Stop.” As planned, Roger echoed the command. The rebellious genies complied. “On your knees.” It was more of a symbolic gesture. Natalie, and presumably her spawn, could stand and strike faster than a man could punch. “Arms out.”

Again, Roger repeated each command. There was a noticeable hesitation on Natalie’s part, but none from her daughter. Again, a testimony to Roger’s strict training. Later, after he had his property in a secure location, he’d end the lax treatment in the most profound manner possible.

“Roger, secure your property.”

Without hesitating, Roger snatched up his pair of handcuffs and hurried out to reclaim his girl. “Snuggle muffin,” he admonished. “You made Daddy worry.” The half-man didn’t realize how far his muttering carried. A flicker of amber light against the girl’s neck attracted Yevgeny’s eye. Ah, she wore Roger’s medpatch. Then the incongruity of it struck home. Why? Had she numbed herself in anticipation of a beating?

Grainer must have noticed something odd as well. The idiot completely forgot to shackle his female and reached for the device it wore around its neck.

Yevgeny tried to warn the man. “No, you fool. Use the handcuffs!”

His warning came too late. The daughter’s head rose, and she locked eyes with her owner. The smile on her lips was as cold as a Siberian winter. One of her perfectly formed hands took hold of Roger’s wrist, and she blurred into motion. Like a series of still photographs, she next appeared on her feet, holding Grainer’s arm outstretched. In the following image, she’d drove the heel of her free hand through her owner’s elbow.

This was impossible. This breed of genie could not harm her owner. It just couldn’t happen. Then he understood. The genies could not harm their owners. Yevgeny turned to his left, to what he’d thought was Natalie, and stared into the eyes of her daughter. The sullen red glow from the transformer reflected from her eyes.

He didn’t stand a chance in hell against her. Why wasn’t she already at his throat? He aimed his Taser and pulled the trigger.

Babygirl had spent the last three days reliving her big sister’s memories. Sissy’s real daddy scared her. When he wasn’t doing mean things to Mommy, he grumbled and growled at Sissy.

As the memories played, Sissy grew up and met a boy. Sometimes the boy and Sissy did things that made Babygirl blush. Sissy was so happy. After a while, Babygirl realized she liked the boy too.

Of all the memories, there was one Sissy refused to relive. That memory made Sissy want to cry. Crying was bad, so Babygirl took the bad memory and hid it. But now, seeing the two scariest daddies together forced the memory out of hiding. I’m sorry, Sissy.

Ten years earlier:

Sixteen-year-old Stephanie ran home through the freezing rain. Each drop sent a wave of cold all the way to her spine. A simple mantra, “Mom’s plan,” repeated with each footstep, gave her the strength to keep moving. Fear nearly wiped away everything else.

Once inside her father’s house, she’d barely hung up her coat before Gene marched her into the living room.

The man waiting there wasn’t much to look at, short with sandy hair and small hands. He carried a pouch. This was the man she’d have to sleep with until Jason was old enough to rescue her. Like Mom said, her first few times wouldn’t be great. It would get better. She was, after all, designed to enjoy it. If her memories ever needed a boost, there was the photograph hidden inside the old suitcase.

Gene spoke, “Mr. Grainer, this is Stephanie. She was outside getting some exercise.”

The man looked her up and down. The intensity of his examination made her want to hide.

“She looks older than sixteen,” Mr. Grainer complained.

“It’s how she’s dressed.” Gene released her arm and reached for her head. Using his fingers, he parted her hair in the middle, then pulled the two halves to the sides. “Braid her hair into pigtails. She’ll look as young as you’d like.”

Mom chose that moment to stumble from the dining room. Still affected by the post-sex “glow,” she startled at seeing a stranger in her home. Stephanie tore herself from Gene’s hands and tugged her mother’s skirt and blouse back into place.

“Keep in mind,” Gene nodded towards Stephanie’s mother. “She’ll never look any older than her mother does.”

The stranger’s eyes lingered on Mom’s exposed skin before he straightened and turned back to Gene. “Very well. If everything else you’ve claimed about her is true, then we have a deal.”

“Mr. Grainer,” Gene showed his teeth. “We already have a deal. If you don’t want her, I’ll contact the other bidders.”

Grainer frowned, but he removed a bulky, necklace-like object from his pouch. “Put this on her. It’s already programmed.”

Gene shook his head. He did no man’s bidding unless it gained him a measure of power. “Put it on her yourself.”

Stephanie’s new owner displayed a tight smile before turning to her. They were only a few feet apart. “Turn around, girl, and lift your hair.”

“Why? What is that thing?” She could see a row of amber lights blinking on the side.

SMACK! The back of Grainer’s free hand struck her cheek. The impact wasn’t much, but the surprise made her stumble back.

“Do not speak to me again unless I ask. Do you understand?”

Rubbing the sting from her cheek, Stephanie replied. “Y-yes.”

“Good, you’ll learn. Training things like you is my passion.” He gestured with the horseshoe-shaped object. “Well?”

Mom’s eyes darted back and forth as the scene developed. Stephanie could see the growing awareness and shock in her eyes. Gene wiped a bit of spittle from his lips. After turning her back and lifting her hair, the cool weight of the object settled around her neck. There was a click, and the device clucked and hummed. After a brief pinch at both sides of her neck, all the stress she’d ignored faded away.

The man turned to Gene. “Can your girl pack a bag for this one? Just a change of clothes in case I have a delay.”

“No problem,” her father said. “Nat, you heard the man. Pack a bag and hurry it up.”

Present-day:

Stephanie’s last unintegrated memory slotted into place. She blinked and took in her surroundings. Off to her left, Roger cradled his arm and sobbed. Uh oh, Daddy’s gonna get more swats.

Speaking of daddies, her natural father, Yevgeny Timofeyev, stood about ten feet away. This was the man Mom could never shield her from. He turned, and recognition flared in his eyes.

Stephanie triggered her adrenaline glands. The world slowed.

Yevgeny’s right hand rose with his boxy Russian electro-pistol. The same one he’d used to trap her mother. Gas belched from the barrel, and a swarm of darts shot out.

Riding a wave of adrenaline, Stephanie checked each pair of darts and estimated their trajectories. It was impossible; there were too many. Still, she had to try. Mom’s singular regret had always been her inability to dodge all those projectiles. If she’d been faster or in better condition, it might have gone differently.

A wall of wind pushed Stephanie back.

Mom, moving faster than Stephanie could believe, was there. Whirling and jumping, twisting and ducking, Mom put her body in front of each pair of darts. The electrical charge surged, yet somehow, Mom kept in motion, stopping eight of the ten pairs of darts.

The last two pairs bored in. But two didn’t present the unsolvable challenge of ten. Stephanie shifted to her left and ducked. The darts whizzed past.

Yevgeny fumbled in his pocket, probably for a reload, but Stephanie speed-vaulted Mr. Thomas’ car and used the momentum to kick her father in the chest. The evil old man flipped over backward and sprawled on the pavement. He’d barely touched the ground before Steph followed through and kicked the weapon from his hand. The electro-pistol struck the concrete curb and shattered. Pieces flew across the circle.

Gene hissed and raised his other hand. What Stephanie thought was a reload was a small box with a single button. Her father cackled, “Whore, if I release this button, your boyfriend’s parents die.”

“Jay!” Stephanie called.

Jason waited around the corner of the house. He wore his virtual reality helmet, and Alfred streamed an augmented reality into it. Instead of a fantasy world filled with monsters. Jason saw the real world as if it were daytime. Human monsters, though, still existed.

It was true that no plan survived contact with the enemy. Natalie went off-script almost immediately and destroyed Roger’s right arm. Not that the bastard deserved less. It’s just that the legal right to self-defense only went so far.

But the worst part was Stephanie pausing instead of incapacitating her father. When the old bastard aimed his pistol, Jason charged. Could he make it in time?

Jason couldn’t, but Natalie could. Like something torn from a comic book, Natalie leaped into the space between Yevgeny and Stephanie. Yevgeny fired his pistol at the same instant. The gun shot out a cloud of gas, indicating it was some odd form of electro-pistol. Natalie writhed and twisted. Behind her mother, Stephanie spun sideways and ducked. Sparks arced across Natalie’s torso and arms; she screamed and fell. Her body convulsing. Stephanie hurtled Dad’s roadster and planted both of her feet into Yevgeny’s chest.

The old man tumbled back, and Stephanie, timing it perfectly, kicked the pistol out of his hand. It was amazing and scary, and Jason still had to do his part

The device taped to the roof looked simple enough: a covered plastic bowl with wires leading to motion sensors on the roadster’s doors.

Clearly, if either door or window were opened, the bomb would go off. Jason knew he shouldn’t tear the wires out. Circuits could be designed to trigger if the current stopped. Inside the car, his parents shook their heads vigorously, trying to tell him to stay away. “Don’t worry,” he shouted. “I got this.” He flashed a smile and a thumbs-up. Fixing his gaze on the plastic bowl, he said, “Alfred, what do we got?”

“Based on the melted transformer, it is likely a form of home-brewed thermite.”

That’s when Stephanie screamed his name.

Jason glanced up. Alfred drew a red outline around Mr. Timms’ left hand and said, “It’s a remote detonator.”

“Whore,” Gene said, “Tell your boyfriend to stand clear, or his parents will burn. Natali will wake in a minute or two. She and I will leave.”

They were running out of options. If Gene regained control of Natalie, he’d win. Hell, he may even find a way to take Stephanie. In her current condition, Stephanie couldn’t best her mother. Roger may have passed out from the pain, but what if he recovered? Instead of backing away, Jason hunched down. “Alfred? I need options.”