The Delphi Revolution (The Delphi Trilogy Book 3)

by Rysa Walker

  “And you’re sure they’ll be in Lab 1?” Sam asks.

  “No. That’s just the lab that Deo and I were in. Jaden said they used the labs interchangeably. People were probably killed in both rooms. I don’t know if they’re aiming to have my father pick up specific talents, or if the plan is to simply fill him up with everything they’ve got. I don’t even know if there’s a limit to how many spirits he can pick up.”

  I don’t add that I’m pretty sure there is a limit to how many someone can hold and keep their sanity. The ghosts I had come across made a conscious decision not to overcrowd me. Dozens could easily have rushed in, but I wound up with only five, including Jaden, Will, and the women I lumped together as the Furies. Then the other four left once they realized that I wasn’t willing to shoot Cregg or Dacia unless necessary to save myself or Deo. I was very glad they left, because I’m not sure how long I’d have been me if I’d had that many hitchers in my head at once. Holding them back was nearly as difficult as holding back Cregg.

  I know that one of those adepts was strongly telekinetic. Another, the girl who managed to set Cregg’s phone on fire, was a Zippo. Either of those abilities seems like a pretty useful one if you’re loading up a walking weapon. And from what I’ve seen, no two Delphi adepts have exactly the same ability. Even those who share the same talent will generally have different strengths and weaknesses, and the gift manifests in different ways.

  “Fair enough. Guess that means we have to be ready for—” Sam stops and stares ahead, running one hand through his thinning gray hair. I follow his gaze, but I don’t see anything, aside from the fact that there is definitely a light at the end of this tunnel. I don’t hear anything either, and judging from Taylor’s expression, neither does she.

  “They’re in . . . Lab 2.” He says this tentatively, almost like it’s a theory he’s trying on for size. “Aaron’s already there.”

  Sam isn’t Delphi. Though he served in the military, at seventy-two, he’s well past the age of the soldiers used as Delphi test subjects. But he gets hunches sometimes. Aaron says those hunches served Sam very well when he was on the police force, probably saving his life and Porter’s on more than one occasion.

  “I’m in front,” Sam says. “Anna’s in the middle, and, Taylor, keep an eye out behind us. Stay close to the wall.” Sam takes off before either of us can answer, moving in a crouched run at a much faster pace than I’d have thought possible for his age. That has me worried that Aaron may be about to go in on his own.

  Sam’s hunch was correct. Even with the glare from what I’m now pretty sure are headlights, I can now make out a fainter light coming from the right side of the building. I raise the goggles. That . . . bothers me, because it could mean they’ve already been inside Lab 1 and we’re too late to prevent my father from picking up those hitchers. It’s not that I think they’d necessarily have taken the rooms in numerical order, but more that I know there was a lot of paranormal activity in that lab.

  Of course, who knows what they did inside Lab 2? It’s entirely possible that they killed even more—and even more powerful—adepts on that side of the hallway.

  A dizzy spell hits just before the end of the tunnel. It’s no worse than the ones I’ve been having all day, but I’m bone tired and I stumble, causing Taylor to trip. She lands hard on her knee and calls me several choice names under her breath when I reach down to help her up. In a perfect world, I’d have had a few more seconds for my head to stop spinning, but she marches me onward.

  Something catches my eye up ahead. I raise the goggles and see that it’s a vehicle parked outside Lab 1. A jeep or maybe a Hummer. It looks weird inside the building, but the guards used to whiz around in golf carts, and I guess if two golf carts could pass each other inside the tunnels, a single vehicle could make it through as well.

  Sam has already ducked through a gap between the cubicle panels in the monitoring station when we catch up to him. The fact that the cubicle walls are still there answers one question that I’ve wondered about since the night we left The Warren. The fire that started in Lab 1 when Cregg’s phone ignited didn’t spread. If it had, these fabric panels would have burned or melted and there’d be far more fire damage overall. All we’ve got is some smoke damage—mostly soot on the walls and ceiling. I don’t know whether it was Graham Cregg’s crew or the group aligned with his father, but someone set fire to the main building purposefully, in order to cover their tracks as they evacuated the kids.

  Something rustles in front of us, off to the right. Taylor raises the gun automatically, but Sam holds his arm out. A moment later, Aaron comes around one of the panels. He’s holding his gun, but it’s not raised, so he must have gotten a vibe from one of us. He seems surprised, but definitely not unhappy, that Sam’s here. He’d wanted to bring him along in the first place, and it occurs to me that Aaron, who has worked with his grandfather for several years, might have a better idea than the rest of us of how capable Sam is in this kind of situation.

  “Hey, Sam.” Aaron drops down between me and Taylor. “What happened with Daniel and Deo? They should have been here ten minutes ago. And you two were supposed to stay put.”

  “Something was blocking the tunnel,” I say. “The call dropped before we could get any other details.”

  “Weird,” Aaron says, nodding in the direction of the vehicle parked near Lab 1. “Whistler and the others drove through just fine. Daniel was supposed to follow them. We don’t have time to worry about it now, though. They . . . um . . . carried Pfeifer out of the first lab just after I got here. He seemed to be unconscious.”

  “We need to hurry. If he’s already picked up hitchers, then . . .” I trail off, my tired brain struggling to string words together.

  Aaron nods. “Follow me.”

  The four of us wind our way through the maze of cubicles, hunched over so that our heads aren’t visible above the dividing walls. When we’re two rows in, Aaron turns back toward us and says, “This takes us to another exit closer to the lab door. It’s just Whistler, one other guy, and a woman. The men are armed. Both are angry that Pfeifer passed out. Whistler is worried about those cops who were circling around, thinking he might have to shoot them. I don’t know if the woman is armed or not. Haven’t picked up any vibes from her. They’ve got the door pulled shut, but the power is out so it’s not locked.”

  “So we’re either three guns to two or evenly matched.” Sam sighs. “This would be a whole lot easier if Daniel was here.”

  Taylor’s mouth tightens, but I really don’t think Sam is being sexist. He’d simply rather avoid a gunfight altogether, and Daniel is our only hope for doing that.

  Not the only . . .

  The thought that comes through my walls isn’t fully formed, but it’s clear enough for me to get Cregg’s meaning. Yes, if I lowered my walls, he could persuade his father’s lackeys to drop their weapons or even to turn their guns on each other. But Cregg knows there’s absolutely no way I’d trust him.

  None of them even suggest giving me a weapon. I’m entirely okay with that.

  Someone coughs up ahead. The sound is muffled by the plexiglass, but it still echoes in the silence. We slow down, all of us walking more cautiously now. Our chance of success is heavily contingent on the element of surprise, and if any of us stumble, cough, or sneeze, that will be lost.

  When we reach the other exit, we crouch around the opening. We’re directly across from their Hummer and maybe five yards from the lab door.

  “We go on three,” Aaron says to Sam and Taylor, who both nod. “Anna—”

  “I’m on lookout. I know.” The words come out sharper than I intend. While I don’t actually resent being sidelined, I do wish there was some way I could help.

  Aaron gives me a sympathetic half smile and leans in close to my ear, whispering so softly that I feel the words more than hear them. “I love you. You know that, right?”

  I nod. “I love you, too. Be careful.”

  He moves back
to Sam. Taylor hangs back, her expression suggesting that she’s trying to make a weighty decision. After a second, she shoves the stun gun toward me. “In case you need it. Turn on us, and I will kill you. Or haunt you.”

  The latter threat actually worries me more, and Taylor knows it. Having been stuck with Daniel in my head, I shudder at the thought of dealing with his younger, often less-reasonable sister.

  Aaron mouths, “One. Two.” On three, he moves into the bright glare from the headlights, bent low. The cement section of the wall isn’t high enough to hide him entirely from the view of those inside the lab, but if they can avoid being detected until they bust in, we stand a better chance of getting out of here alive.

  Sam and Taylor follow Aaron, guns out, and for the next few seconds, the only sound is the shuffling of their footsteps and my pounding heart. I move to the other side of the entrance so that I can keep an eye on the tunnel we came in through. Unfortunately, we’re now so close to the headlights that I can’t really see much at all beyond their radius.

  I jump when I hear Aaron kick the door open. It bangs against the plexiglass walls, and then Sam yells, “Police! Drop your weapons!”

  EXCERPT FROM “MIND BLOWN” IN THE SCOOP

  April 24, 2020

  Variants of the compound known as Delphi (street names include DS, SciPhi, and Freak) are popping up in both rural and urban centers within the United States. One of the most remarkable things about the drug is how rapidly it has spread. Sporadic reports of increased psychic activity and an uptick in violent altercations follow the drug like a malignant shadow.

  But what are users actually injecting? No one is entirely sure. The chemical formula for the Delphi serum has not been made public—indeed, the US government still officially denies that such a drug even exists. And there is some evidence that the drugs being sold on the street are nothing more than LSD and a variety of hallucinogens.

  Three separate confidential sources interviewed for this article claim to have worked at different times on the Delphi Project. They all stressed that the compound only enhances psychic abilities inherent in a small percentage of people. It cannot give abilities to those who lack them entirely. Nor can you pick and choose from a menu of abilities.

  Those marketing the drugs on the street beg to differ, offering customers a shopping list of options such as mind reading and predicting the future. And they claim that the drug is tapping a new market of users who have not, in the past, frequented their neighborhood dealer.

  “People want that edge,” one source claimed. “They see stories in the paper and start to wonder whether coworkers are swiping their ideas. Maybe even putting bad ideas into their heads, you know? Most aren’t worried about getting new abilities so much as blocking the abilities of others. The government isn’t helping on this issue. They’re gonna study it for five or six years to see who is to blame. Half of them say it’s not even real. So people turn to us.”

  When asked whether the stuff he was marketing could actually block those with Delphi abilities, the man gave us an enigmatic smile. “Maybe. You want to find out for sure, it’ll cost you three hundred bucks.”

  That may be a bargain compared with a drug being fast-tracked for FDA approval by a subsidiary of Decathlon Services Group. Some analysts believe the compound, known as Cerecyclo, could hit the market by late May. Demand will be high, which could dramatically increase the price (and profit margins) for the manufacturer and DSG stockholders.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Port Deposit, Maryland

  April 24, 2020, 10:37 p.m.

  Sam’s right to shout police while kicking in a door expired a few years ago, unless he’s in some sort of retired officers’ reserve that I don’t know about. I brace for the sound of gunfire, wishing I had a better view from here. Can’t see anything but the tops of everyone’s heads from this angle.

  My audio is working fine, however, now that the door has been kicked open. A woman screams. Chairs or maybe a table topple over. And then I hear a totally incongruous giggle coming toward me from the other direction.

  “Wow,” Alexandra Cregg says as she emerges from the shadows of the tunnel. “I’ve never been in one this elaborate. These guys take their jobs real serious.”

  She’s pressed up against Deo, who doesn’t look too happy. His eyes drift over to Lab 1, and I’m pretty sure he’s reliving everything that happened the last time we were here.

  “We’re going to walk closer and see if that’s the exit,” Daniel tells Alex. “Sit down and stay out of the way.” There’s a touch of extra force in his words.

  Alex drops to the ground, pulling Deo down with her. “Cutie-pie can stay here with me.”

  “No, he can’t.” Daniel reaches down, grabs Deo’s hand, and yanks him to his feet.

  I’m still hidden behind the cubicle divider, and my mental walls are fully up, but I feel Daniel’s nudge nonetheless and drop to sitting from the crouched position I was in.

  From within the lab, Aaron has just finished repeating Sam’s order for them to drop their weapons. Whistler, or at least I’m pretty sure it’s Whistler, says something back, but I can’t decipher it from out here.

  “Daniel,” I say, leaning out from the shadows. “You guys go. I’ll watch her.”

  He takes one look at me, then at the lab, and curses softly. “Taylor’s in there?”

  “Yes, but that wasn’t her screaming.” I’ve heard Taylor scream. Her voice is a full octave higher than the woman in the lab.

  “How many of them?” Daniel asks.

  “Three, at least two armed.”

  “Pfeifer?”

  “Unconscious.”

  Alex Cregg is staring at me. “Are you one of the actors? I haven’t done this room before, but you look really familiar.”

  Actors? Ah . . . okay. Everything is starting to make sense now. Daniel must have persuaded her that this is one of those escape rooms where they lock you in with a group of people and you have to solve a mystery.

  “No,” I say. “I’m—”

  “Change of plans.” Daniel draws his gun and grabs Alex by the arm. “You’re with me.”

  “Ooh. I like this better. Going right into the action! Do I get a gun, too?”

  “You do not.” Daniel pulls her in front of him like a shield. She tenses a bit, and he adds, “Remember, it’s all for fun.”

  “Fun!” She smiles so wide that it looks like her face will crack. I feel the corners of my mouth lift as well, even though I’m fighting it.

  The spider-rat is clearly agitated now, more active than he’s been since I took the pill earlier. He’s still angry at Alex for defiling his desk and more than a little shocked at this glimpse of what she actually thought of him, but he definitely doesn’t like the fact that Daniel might be putting his daughter in danger.

  That’s the height of hypocrisy coming from a man who used his own ability to force young women to mutilate themselves. Who killed them, in fact, or forced them to kill each other. But like many people born into wealth and power, Cregg doesn’t seem to believe that the rules apply to him.

  Unfortunately, I find myself reluctantly agreeing with Cregg on one point. It feels wrong to drag Alex into a potential gunfight when she’s been made to believe that this is all an act.

  “Daniel . . .” I begin.

  He doesn’t let me get far. “Save it, Anna! I’m not going to hurt her, and neither will they. She’s the Senator’s granddaughter, for God’s sake.”

  Inside the lab, Aaron is talking again. Not as loud this time, and it’s the tone he uses when he’s trying to reason with someone. I can’t make out the words, but it reminds me that the stakes are very high. People I love are in that room, and judging from the uneasy silence right now, I think they may be at a standoff. Alexandra Cregg came here tonight of her own accord. She seemed perfectly willing to help Abbott kill my father. I drop the argument.

  “I’ll go with you. In case you need a boost.” Deo’s voice hasn’t cr
acked for a couple of years, but it does now. Fear this time, though, not puberty.

  Daniel catches it, too. “I’ll try it on my own first. I’d rather not experiment under these circumstances. But yeah, stay close.”

  The three of them begin walking toward the lab, and when they’re a few feet from the door, he yells, “I’ve got your boss’s granddaughter out here. Pretty sure he’s not going to be too happy if you make me shoot her.”

  No one told me to stay put this time, and the fact that Deo is nervous tilts the balance for me. Even if we make it into our nineties, I’m pretty sure that protecting Deo will still feel like my responsibility. On the off chance that he or any of the others need me, I’m not going to do a damn bit of good all the way over here. So I shove Taylor’s little stun gun into my pocket and follow them.

  I’m not going into that lab, however. For that matter, I won’t be touching anything that might put me at risk of picking up a hitcher. My walls are up to keep Cregg contained, and in theory, that should keep me from pulling anyone else on board. But I’m not keen on testing that theory in a lab where God only knows how many adepts were killed.

  Daniel stands in the doorway with Alex in front of him and Deo right behind him. Daniel said he needed to stay close. He didn’t say to make himself a target. I tug on Deo’s shirt to pull him back behind the glass, being careful not to make actual contact with him. This would be a very inconvenient time for me to have a vision.

  Whistler and the other man are near the back of the room, both with guns drawn. The front of the second guy’s pants is wet. I’m pretty sure he peed himself.

  A dark-skinned girl is crouched behind the gurney that holds my father, her hand resting on his shoulder. She’s dressed in a flannel shirt that’s way too large, and it looks like her face is bleeding.