Redemption (Enigma Black Trilogy Book #3)

by Furlong-Burr, Sara

  “Do you think he’s trying to draw Celaine to him with an attack at the wedding?” Ian asked.

  Unable to support myself anymore, my legs gave out from underneath me. Before I hit the floor, Ian’s arms grabbed me and pulled me back to my feet as I began to wretch, dry heaving because my stomach was too empty to dispel any content. In my head, the vision of Chase, Jim, Carrie, and MaKayla, together in one room being held captive by The Man in Black—by Victor—played in my head. This image of them then morphed into a vision of my parents’ vehicle in the parking ramp with my parents and brother trapped inside.

  I hadn’t been able to save them. I wasn’t strong enough then, but I was now.

  By now, all of the rebels in the warehouse had gathered around us, taking in the same information we’d just learned. My eyes met Jill’s, and I felt the guilt wash over me. In order to have the slightest chance at saving Chase and the family I grew to call my own, I would have to leave the rest of the rebels to fight their own war so that I could fight my own.

  “Go,” Jill said, as though sensing my inner turmoil. “Both of you. If The Man in Black is planning an attack, as it appears he is, and you are able to apprehend or, better, kill him, then that in and of itself is a victory. Without him, Brooks doesn’t have quite the leverage. The fear and apprehension the people have over when and where the next attack will take place will be put to rest, as will the power Brooks has over them.”

  “She’s right,” Nicholas agreed. “And now that we know for certain that Brooks and The Man in Black are connected, maybe we can expose that in our attack somehow today.”

  “An attack?” Kara asked, confused.

  “We’re staging a march on Brooks’ territory, which I’m sure will turn into a war with his soldiers.”

  “Soldiers,” Kara repeated, turning to me. “You were right about them being under some form of mind control,” she said.

  “Yeah, we pretty much surmised that,” Nicholas said, stealing a glance at some of the former soldiers in the group.

  “They’re being controlled by a program that Cameron created,” Kara added. “Drew is back at The Epicenter right now doing what he can to find the program on Cameron’s laptop and rewrite the commands.”

  “Really?” Jill’s eyes brightened. “Tell him to get a move on, then. If he can somehow rewrite, delete or destroy the program altogether, and the soldiers snap out of whatever spell they’re under, we may actually have a chance today.”

  The rest of the warehouse sprang to life with revised vigor. For the first time most of them could remember, hope dared to enter into their thoughts.

  *****

  Flanked by armed guards, President Carver Brooks strode past the stone walls of the underground prison on his way to the isolation cell at the end of the corridor. In his footsteps, several strides behind, Finn followed, occasionally stealing glances at the rebels housed in each cell.

  “Open the door,” Carver said to the guards at the door of the isolation cell. Without a word, one of the guards nodded in acknowledgement of the command he’d been given and removed the key from his belt, opening the door. As the door swung open, the prisoners inside squinted at the sudden appearance of light in their pitch black cell. “Unchain them and lead them out here into the hall.” This time, both of the guards sprang into action.

  Carver stood outside, watching as Marshall and Jeremiah were released from their bonds, only to find a gun pointed at each of their heads as they were pulled up to a standing position and led out to the corridor. Disheveled in appearance, their movements were slow, their joints stiff from the limited movement the chains allowed.

  “Gentlemen,” Carver said, a condescending smile plastered across his face, “bid your cell goodbye, because you won’t be returning to it again.”

  *****

  “Aron is going to help you get back to your car safely,” I said to Kara. I tied my hair back into a braid with a shoelace I found on the floor. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do to keep the hair out of my face after I slipped my helmet on. “Whatever it takes, Kara, make sure Drew disables the program as soon as possible. If it is possible.” I stared out from Ian’s and my compartment down at the rest of the rebels, at Drake and Jill, Brad, and Britta—who was still not quite right in the head after Brad’s near death. “Some of the last good people left in this country are in this room with us right now.”

  Kara sat down next to me. In her hand, she clutched my backpack with the few belongings I’d packed. I’d have no use for them where I was going and asked her to take them back with her to The Epicenter. “There are good people everywhere. You just don’t know it because their voices aren’t as loud as the others,” she said. She lowered her head to look down at her fingers as she ran her thumb along the straps of the backpack. “I need you to promise me something.”

  “I don’t think I’m in a position to make any promises.”

  Next to me, I could hear Kara sniffing, and the tears began falling from her already swollen eyes again. “Then please just tell me that, if given the opportunity, you’ll finish him off when you can. There will be no leniency. No plea bargain. None of that taking him prisoner bullshit. If you get the opportunity to see the life leave his eyes, you’re going to take it.”

  “I stand corrected. You may have just found the only thing I can actually promise.” The backpack in her hands caught my eye, and I grabbed it, remembering the one thing inside I needed to take with me.

  “I can’t lose you, Celaine,” she said. “So, if you wouldn’t mind, please come back alive.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” I said, keeping my eyes trained on the contents inside the bag as I fought back tears of my own. “But if the only way to ensure his death is through my own, then I’m not going to look back. I can’t look back. I promised them I would never look back.” At the bottom of the backpack I found the necklace Chase had given to me, the one that had been passed down to his mother, and clasped it around my neck, tucking it into the collar of my suit. “This needs to go back to its rightful owner—Chase’s wife,” I said, patting the locket.

  Ian and Aron entered the warehouse and made their way over to the bottom of the shelving unit. “If you’re going to make it out of here before the shit hits the fan, we need to leave now,” Aron called out to Kara.

  She nodded. “Be right there,” she said, the quiver returning to her voice. We stood up to face each other, unsure of what the future held for either of us. Unable to control myself, I wrapped my arms around her, wondering whether I’d ever see her again.

  “I love you, sis,” I said with my head buried in her shoulder. “No matter what happens, no matter who wins or who loses today, I want you to go and live your life. Find happiness. Don’t allow yourself to be consumed by hatred.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” she whispered. “I love you, too.” We both wiped tears from our eyes before making the climb back down to the floor. When we reached the ground, Kara took Ian into her arms in an embrace. “I know you’re not the hard ass you make yourself out to be.”

  “I see Celaine’s been telling my secrets.”

  “Just keep her alive, please,” she whispered.

  “I promise,” he said, looking up at me. “I promise.”

  Kara let go of Ian and nodded at Aron to signal that she was ready to leave. They left the warehouse with Kara turning her head to look back at us one last time before she rounded the corner and disappeared from sight completely.

  “A couple of the guys brought their motorcycles with them when they came to the city,” Ian said. “They’re hidden out back. They said we could we use them.”

  “Okay.”

  “Hey,” he said. I turned my attention away from the doorway to face him. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll see her again.” He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me toward his body. “We’re going to be okay.” I held onto him tighter and wondered whether he believed his words. “We’re going to be okay.”

  With our miss
ion clear, we walked out of the warehouse to face our destinies and the man responsible for them.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Trial and Tribulation

  In a line spanning the width of the roadway, they marched. Side-by-side in lines of ten, they strode in well-executed unison, their footfalls creating an ominous thundering sound each time their feet struck the ground. With weapons at the ready, they knew that any hope of reasoning had long since been lost. At each designated point, their numbers grew when they were joined by additional rebels, both those left over from the attack on the address, and those who had trickled into the city over the last couple of weeks. Even more of them would meet them at their final rendezvous point in the heart of the Capitol. But despite their growing numbers, they were going to be grossly outmanned and, more importantly, outgunned by the soldiers, but, still, they pressed on.

  From her position in the front line, Jill couldn’t help but notice the curtains hastily drawn in the homes and apartments of those too afraid to stand up and fight, yet curious enough to watch from the safety of their homes. To them, wars were better fought by the hands of others. Survival meant keeping your mouth shut and your convictions to yourself.

  While they trudged down the street, the most peculiar thing she noticed was the lack of soldiers along the roadway. By now, they had traveled a mile from the warehouse, and on all accounts, they should have encountered at least a few groups patrolling the street. Concern crept into Jill’s head as she tried to reason with herself why they had not run into any of them yet and what that could possibly mean.

  Next to her, Aron marched with more confidence than she’d ever seen him project before. When they had originally formed the lines back at the warehouse, she had been the first person to volunteer for the front line and had been shocked when he’d volunteered right after her, making it a point to insert himself in line next to her. Now, as she marched next to him to the uncertain future that awaited them all, she couldn’t help but smile to herself. He’d never been one for great timing when they had been a couple, and that was apparently still the case.

  The closer they came to their target destination, the more Jill noticed that the landscape around them began to change. Instead of ramshackle homes and the hollowed-out shells of dead businesses, they were entering an area of prosperity. A land where lawns were well-manicured; where the paint on each of the homes and other structures still seemed fresh; where people still dared to venture out onto the streets, and where the presence of electricity seemed to be a right instead of a luxury. Taken aback, she couldn’t help but observe every detail of her surroundings as its inhabitants scurried back into their homes.

  “They’re Brooks’ supporters,” Aron said, wagering a guess. “I bet everyone on this side of town either works for him, has narked their own brother out to him, or knows enough to still be useful to him in some way.”

  Jill nodded her agreement, angered by the unfairness of it all. “I’ll bet none of these people have ever lost anyone in their lives,” she said.

  “No, they’ve lost more than the rest of us,” Aron said. Jill turned her head, her eyebrow raised up in confusion. “They lost their souls when they made their deal with the devil, and they will have to pay the consequences of their decisions eventually.”

  They rounded the block of the next street over, coming to an immediate halt at the sight of the barrier placed before them several hundred feet away. Amassed in front of them stood a line of soldiers, spanning the width of the street and traveling down the road as far as their eyes could see. In front of the group, a lone figure stood out as the one who’d been designated as their commander, his helmet and distinctly superior armor setting him apart from the rest. Of the entire group before them, he was the only one still capable of thinking for himself.

  Jill reached for Aron’s hand, which he took and kept firmly in his grasp, neither of them having to look at the other to understand what was going through their minds at that moment.

  “Are you getting this, John?” Nicholas asked.

  “The camera is recording it,” John answered. “Let’s just hope the live feed is going through and that we get decent footage for them to use.”

  “How did they know we’d be here?” Gage asked.

  “Brooks must have been tipped off by someone,” Nicholas answered him.

  Both groups stood their ground, facing each other. The rebels knew that their chances were slim; the soldiers knew that their mission was to kill at all costs.

  “We don’t have to fight each other,” Nicholas said, matter-of-factly. “I know that you can’t hear what I’m saying, that your minds are being manipulated by President Brooks without your knowledge. But if there are any of you who can understand what I’m saying right now, our war is not with you. We don’t want to harm any of you. All we want is a fair shot at Brooks. We want our lives back. We want our country back to where it was before.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” their leader commanded. “The rebels are trying to cloud your thoughts with falsities. They are the enemy. They are the reason for the death and destruction that’s occurring around our country, and they must be brought to justice.”

  “The only person responsible for the chaos across our land is President Brooks. He is the one clouding the minds of others by exploiting their fear through the creation of The Man in Black.”

  “Lies!” the commander yelled, turning around to address his soldiers. “Do you hear the blatant misrepresentations these people are willing to project to the world? This is why they’re dangerous and must be stopped before they have a chance to poison the minds of our people. That is why, at this very moment, their leader faces execution.”

  “Marshall,” Jill whispered, blinking her eyes to control the tears from falling.

  A deafening roar of approval echoed from the group of soldiers, further energizing their commander. “The vocalization of lies against our commander-in-chief in such a callous manner is nothing short of treason,” he said, walking back and forth in front of the first line of soldiers. “And what is the punishment for treason?”

  “Death.” Their robotic-like voices resounded coldly across the roadway, turning the blood in Jill’s veins to ice water.

  Their commander stopped in his tracks, centered squarely in front of the pack. “Death,” he repeated. Without so much as a second thought, he turned toward the rebels and fired.

  Jill and the rest of the front row instinctively hit the ground the moment the gun went off. On the ground, Jill picked out the remnants of asphalt that had embedded itself in her hands, sighing in relief that she was still alive and breathing. Beside her, Aron lifted his head, and she found herself flooded with relief. But as she moved her hand to push herself up, she found herself slipping back to the ground. Confused, her eyes drifted to her hand. Covered in blood that wasn’t her own, she followed the drops of blood that dripped from her hand to the pool in which it had slipped and found its source.

  “Nicholas?” she asked, a sickness overcoming her. She rolled him over with her bloody hand. “Nicholas,” she said, the bile rising to her throat as she stared at the hole in the middle of his forehead.

  “Son of a bitch.” Aron stood up with tears in his eyes.

  Following suit, the others stood, facing the soldiers once more. After composing herself, Jill positioned herself just ahead of the front row and turned to face the others. “We all knew when we chose to join the rebellion that we may not make it home one day. Whether or not this is that day remains to be seen. But there is one thing we do know for sure, and that’s the fact that many brave men and women have died fighting for us and our cause already. They died bravely and selflessly so that we may have a chance for a new tomorrow, and I, for one, refuse to have let them die in vain. In Nicholas and Marshall’s memory, I implore you all to raise your arms and ready yourself, because our struggles end today, one way or another.”

  Jill turned around and remained just a step ahead of the front lin
e, where Aron joined her. “If we fight, we fight as a team,” he said, smiling at her.

  The others from the front line joined them, echoing Aron’s sentiment. “For our lives back,” she said loud enough for the others to hear. “We fight.” As a collective group, the rebels ran toward the soldiers, who began their advance. Weapons raised, both sides took aim at each other and fired.

  *****

  Chase stood in front of the full-length mirror in the men’s dressing room inside The Woodland Lodge dressed in his suit pants and dress shirt. Hanging in the portable wardrobe, still zipped in its protective casing, were his suit coat and pink vest. He eyed the wardrobe as his heart and his brain waged a war that would soon be forced to come to an end, one way or the other.

  “You’ve been staring at yourself in that mirror for a while now. I know you’re killing it in your tux, but damn,” Trey said from behind him.

  He turned toward a fully suited Trey, his face blank. “Pink’s a good color on you,” he said flatly.

  “You know that’s not true,” Trey said. “Seriously, this has to be the pinkest pink I have ever seen in my life. It’s like Pepto-Bismol pink, dude. Except, instead of soothing my stomach, it’s making me want to throw up right now. I’ve made three trips to the bathroom already and I’ve only had it on for ten minutes.”

  “Yeah,” Chase said, laughing half-heartedly. “It’s pretty pink.”

  “Are you all right? You look like you’re going to be sick. Do you need me to grab a puke bucket for you or perform some other best man duty?”

  “No, man. You’ve been great already.” He slumped down on his chair, placing his head in his hands as he gazed down at the floor.

  “Okay, then, you may want to think about getting yourself dressed in the other half of your suit. There’s less than an hour left until the wedding starts.”