Project HALO

Chapter 2

The police station isn't very exciting.

I'm placed within bars as the officers try to contact my father – spoiler: no one answers. It smells like sweat and metal in here. And alcohol. Definitely alcohol. An old man is asleep on one of the benches next to me, and a younger dude with long dark hair paces the concrete floor. I can't stop my foot from bouncing, and every other second I glance toward the officers, hoping they'll let me out. I sigh and run my hands through my hair. They can't keep me here forever, but they can keep me here for twenty-four hours, which is basically the same. I don't know how long I sit there before someone finally calls my name.

"Walker. Follow me." An officer unlocks the door and leads me to a room with nothing but two chairs and a table inside. There's a camera in the top left corner. An uneasy weight settles in my gut.

"What is this?" I ask, my voice rough around the edges. I've never been in here. Usually, my father sends an assistant to the station and they bring me home where I get the silent treatment for days, sometimes weeks, depending on my boarding school schedule.

"Sit down and wait. I'll be right back."

I grab a chair and do as he says. He closes the door behind him and my muscles tense when the lock clicks into place. I will my heartbeat to slow down, but it seems like it's echoing throughout the empty room. The cops probably want to have a serious talk. Tell me that I'll be in real trouble the next time I do something like this and blah-blah. Nothing to be nervous about. Yet, I can't quite catch my breath.

The door unlocks.

A couple of broad guys in unfamiliar suits enter the room, their jackets the same color as the dry, cracked blood on my knuckles. They flash badges I've never seen before. A black bird with outspread wings is on them, appearing as if it's flying above me and staring down. My forehead creases in confusion.

"Mr. Walker," one of them says. He has light, buzzed hair and an icy gaze. "You have to come with us."

The other one, a guy with the same buzz-cut and bulky arms, makes his way over to me. I jump up from my chair as he reaches out for me.

"Why?" I ask while eyeing them, trying to search for any kind of familiarity, but there is none. "Who are you?"

"Please calm down, Mr. Walker."

I throw my chair in front of the guy chasing me. He swipes it away with a single movement, then he's on me, his hands clamping down on my shoulders like talons.

"If you don't calm down we will have to sedate you," the light-haired one says. His tone is so composed it's almost mechanical.

"What?" I thrash against the other guy's steel grip, kicking at him, twisting around. He doesn't let go. "Who the hell are you?"

In a matter of seconds, they're both on me. A prickle of cold sweat runs over me. Before I get a chance to calm down, a sharp tinge pinches the side of my neck.

After that, my mind is a vast blank space.

***

I've only been awake for a few seconds. The glare from the fluorescent lights above is so strong it makes me nauseous. Through drowsy blinks, I glimpse bare white walls and metallic tables with what looks like tools on them. It reeks of cheap cleaning products, a fake lemony scent mixed with chlorine. A hospital? But nothing hurts except my head. It's like a bad hangover, but not bad enough to be admitted.

I try to move to see if anything else hurts, but nothing happens.

I swallow hard as a cold finger of panic starts to poke around inside my chest.