I lean in and drape my arms around her shoulders. “Thank you, Respa. I owe you.”
“Damn right you do. Now go.”
Respa and I part outside the door, going in opposite directions. I clutch the curved wall as I stumble through the corridor, still slightly imbalanced from all that time on the table. Was I strapped there for the entire two days? I count the descending corridors as I pass, following Respa’s instructions explicitly. When I reach the fourth one I pause and listen, making sure there are no Enforcers waiting in the distance.
I wonder why it is so empty here. I know that most of the Enforcers are above ground now, defending Crimson from our soldiers, but what about everybody else? The inmates, or “refugees” as the are called here. Ha. Refugees, indeed. I shake my head facetiously at the thought. They must be contained on different floors. Even when I was living at Crimson before, they never let us wander around down here in the lower levels. Who knows what interesting things I could find if I snooped around a bit more. It’s tempting, but no. I’m on a mission. I cannot defect. Granby’s influence on me is certainly taking heed.
I make another right hand turn and soon I am at the stairwell. The door is open. Just like Respa said, the scanner is not working. I crack the door open slightly and listen. It is quiet—the only sound that can be distinguished is my own breathing. Even my footsteps are silent, thanks to my Hemlex shoes. Turns out they were a valuable addition to my wardrobe, after all.
Just as I begin to descend the steps I hear the door open on the floor just below me. In full-blown panic mode, I silently dash up the steps to the next floor, and then the next, as the crashing footsteps continue to climb the stairs. Each level that I scale pilfers more energy from my body. But the footsteps below continue to follow. I wonder briefly if I should just leave the stairwell. But fear of the unknown keeps me in here. I need to get back downstairs to rescue Drake and I can’t afford to lose any time getting lost now.
Five stories up, I’ve reached the top of this stairwell. I can’t go any further. It must be the highest level in the underground facility. But the footsteps still follow. With no other options left, I swing the door open and enter the corridor. I slide out along the wall and instantly, I’m paralyzed. Wild flames engulf the corridor radiating insurmountable heat over me. Brilliant orange-yellow tendrils lash out in every direction and I sink down to the floor wrapping my arms tightly around my knees. My breath begins to quicken until I’m hyperventilating into my forearm. The snapping pricks at my eardrums and the thick smoke scratches my throat and lungs. I can’t do this! Involuntary tears pour down my cheeks as I try to overcome this debilitating nightmare. The fire doesn’t touch me, yet I can feel its violent fingers reaching out to grab me. I close my eyes and tell myself that it’s not real; that I’m imagining it. But the sweat drenching my shirt tells me otherwise. I’ve got to get out of here.
The door to the stairwell opens and somebody comes out. But they run down the corridor in the opposite direction. Whoever it was must not have seen me huddled down on the floor. Who would’ve thought my fear would actually save me? My instincts kick in and I crawl back to the door. My quaking arm reaches up and I pull it open and slither back into the stairwell.
I sit upon the top step catching my breath and allowing my heart rate to slow. I’ve got a lot to do and I must restore my courage and energy before moving on.
Quickly, I tiptoe down the stairs pausing at each floor to be sure nobody abruptly enters the door and finds me. After I determine it’s clear, I glide down the stairs until I am two floors below the one I started at. Again, I crack the door open, peering out and listening. I hear faint echoing of footsteps, but they sound too far away to be in this corridor. Gradually I ease my head out, inch by inch, and find that the immediate hallway is clear.
I sneak down the corridor, the beat of my heart marching double time to each silent step I take. I’m thankful for the darkness. I figure if I’m spotted it won’t be so obvious that I’m an escapee, at least not at first. At least I could have time to run.
When I reach the next corridor, I pause at the corner, pressing my back against the wall, and listen. Whispers break up the silence, but I can’t tell where they are coming from. I edge my face around the corner. I don’t see anything but darkness dimly illuminated by the amber lights. I turn back and it’s empty in the other direction as well. As I creep out into the corridor a door busts open at the end and three Enforcers come barreling out. I whip around sinking back into the wall, hoping that my presence went unnoticed. I watch fearfully as the Enforcers sprint past me toward the curved security room at the center of this level.
Something tells me I need to get out of here fast, but I don’t know which way to go. And I’m not turning back.
The grunts and yelps coming from the direction where the Enforcers went indicate a struggle of some sort. My reckless curiosity leads me into the corridor, inhaling the scent of trouble.
I peer into the central corridor that surrounds the curved walls of the security control room. Six figures are struggling, but the darkness masks their identities. It must be some of our soldiers. Of course. One of the missions was to retrieve the plans for the shuttle. It makes sense that they would be kept in the security control room. Maybe Glenn is among them. Surely he would have known he’d need to activate the system override in order to release Drake.
My body itches to pounce into the scuffle and help them, but before I get the chance to get close enough, the Enforcers have their guns drawn and aimed at the three soldiers. I reach down to my thigh and pat the empty holster, forgetting briefly that my gun is missing. I’m sure that bounty hunter filched it while I was out. He wouldn’t turn me into Crimson with something as valuable as a firearm. I could still make the slingshot, but I have a major problem—nothing to propel. I’m at a loss.
The Enforcers don’t shoot the soldiers, much to my relief. Instead they cuff their hands behind their backs and begin to march them in my direction. Oh no. I have nowhere to hide. I quietly twist the latch on the door behind me and, miraculously, it opens. I huddle myself inside, leaving the door slightly ajar, and watch anxiously as the Enforcers march past me, escorting the three men. As their faces pass through the amber lights, I get a glimpse of these three men I know too well: Yoric, Glenn, and Marcus.
Chapter 26
Marcus. Glenn. And Yoric. Was that some kind of sadistic joke, grouping Marcus and Glenn together? Or did Granby group them together as some sort of ingenious strategic device. Forcing them to forge an alliance. Very clever, Granby.
But now that poses a severe problem. They’ve all been captured. I try to wrap my head around the idea of my three friends being strapped down and tortured, or worse—executed. Panic is too soft a term to describe my current state. What can I do? Should I continue my mission to rescue Drake and find the security room? Or should I put that on hold and follow the guys? I can’t bear to live without Marcus. Or Glenn. But this might be my only opportunity to get into the security room to launch the system override.
My body trembles so wildly that when I lean back into a shelf, a box of spherical magnets crashes to the floor in an explosion that rips the silence to shreds. They bounce noisily all over the place, making a racket like marbles tumbling inside a clothes dryer. I glance around as I frantically wave my hands around trying to stop them, realizing I must be in an office supply closet.
While the magnets continue to roll over the tile floor, I overhear the brusque tone of one of the Enforcers that just passed.
“Take them to the X level—I’ll check it out.”
Oh shit. Someone’s coming. I yank my holster off my leg and untwist the band that still holds my hair in place after my two-day coma. Some stray strands get caught in the elastic and I wince at the sharp pain. Silly Pollen. Your head is beaten, bruised, and pounding as if someone took a jackhammer to it. And here you are wincing at a few snagged hairs? In one quick motion, I yank it out, along with the caught strands, letting my
hair fall limply over my back. Despite my shaky hands I attach the sling quickly and carefully.
I can hear the tentative footsteps approaching the door. Without taking my eyes off the door, I paw at the floor until my fingers roll over an escaped magnet. It slips through my fingers, rolling away out of reach.
The door begins to creak as the Enforcer cautiously opens it. Frantically, I grope at the floor. It sounded like a million magnets fell a few seconds ago. Where are they now? Finally, I find one and claw all of my fingers around it so it can’t escape. I load it into my sling and draw it back as the man widens the door. It’s too dark to see, but I can hear the click of the slide as he prepares to shoot.
I can’t knock him out with a marble, I know, especially since the tiny red light indicates he’s wearing a helmet to protect his head. But I am at the perfect level and distance to inflict some serious pain to his manhood. I pull back the sling as far as it will go, as if I’m preparing to hit the distant balloon at the outdoor shooting range, aim directly between his legs and release.
“Argh!” he shouts as he collapses to his knees, dropping the gun to the floor with a clang. He cups his injury with one hand while probing the floor with the other, trying to locate the gun. But it’s too late. The moment it hits the tile I snatch it furiously. While he’s still down I tear off his helmet and pummel him with the grip of the gun. Even though he falls to the floor face down, I can’t stop myself. All of my rage of the past few months filters down through my arm and into the back of this guy’s head. It feels good. Really good.
It takes some serious self-control, but I finally force myself to stop—I’ve got four grown men to rescue and there’s no time to waste. I stand over the Enforcer holding the gun that still has a round in the chamber and aim it at him. My finger trembles on the trigger. As angry and devastated as I am, I can’t bring myself to do it. It’s one thing to practice shooting people with harmless paint bullets, but actually killing someone, someone completely helpless, is entirely different.
I jam the gun into the back of my pants for safe keeping, while holding on to the slingshot. I search the floor for the rest of the magnets. I grab a handful and cram them into my pocket, before pushing the Enforcer completely into the closet and closing the door.
The silence in the corridor is piercing. All I can hear is the hissing of my own breath and the gentle clinking of the magnets in my pocket as I creep past the corner to the main corridor. Keeping my back against the inner curved wall, I sidestep around the corridor, watching for any sudden movements or shadows in the archways of additional corridors.
Finally, my hand hovers over a dip in the wall—a doorway. The door is closed. My hand trembles over the doorknob, hesitating. Someone will surely be in the room. Perhaps more than one body. They would never leave a place like this unmanned, especially in an emergency situation such as an incursion. Should I prepare the gun or make do with the slingshot? I really don’t want to kill anybody if I can avoid it. I decide the gun will be a last minute plan B if it comes to that. I lower my hand onto the knob and turn slowly as not to draw attention to it, but it doesn’t budge. They must be using old-fashioned locks in lieu of the scanners. Makes sense.
I pluck the gun from my pants and prepare to shoot the door open. As my finger tightens on the trigger, I hear the rattling of the magnets in my pocket and think back to all the noise those they made when they dropped in that tiny closet. How loud will a gun blast be? Cramming the gun back into my pants I decide on a more rational approach. I knock.
“Who’s there?” a terse male voice calls from the other side of the door. I improvise.
“Wyndham sent me for increased security. The attackers have infiltrated the upper levels.” I hope that worked. I vaguely remember the name of the lead Enforcer from my last escape attempt. I hold my breath and ready my slingshot and marble as the clicking signals the door being unlocked.
The door swings open and the blinding white light of a flashlight shines in my face. I manage to avoid looking directly at it and before the Enforcer has a chance to aim his weapon I release the sling, sending the marble into his wrist. Both the gun and the flashlight clink to the floor.
We both clamor for the gun. He falls on me as I drop to my knees and I thrust my elbow back into his chest. The Enforcer rams the heel of his hand into my jaw, knocking me sideways and adding yet another head injury to the list. My slingshot flies out of my hand and slides across the floor of the security control room.
The lump in my back reminds me that I have an unfair advantage. Ripping the gun out, I hold it under his jaw and flip his helmet off.
“Stand,” I say firmly, lifting his gun off the floor and pointing it at his chest. I rise alongside him, never moving either of my weapons. With of flick of my ankle, the door shuts behind me and I force the Enforcer further inside the room.
“Activate the system override for the solitary level,” I say in a smooth but firm tone.
“Hey, I know you,” he says in a smooth, raspy voice. “You’re that girl who escaped twice. Pollen, right?”
“The system override,” I remind him.
“You’ll never get out again, you know. There’s a huge bounty on your head darlin’ and you’d be every bounty hunter’s favorite prey.”
Huge bounty? Me? After my rendezvous with the Trinity I shouldn’t be surprised. They made it perfectly clear they want my baby. But they won’t get him. I shake my head to clear my thoughts. I’ve had enough of his babbling.
“The system override. Now!” I shout. The Enforcer tenses as I jam the gun into his throat.
“I can’t, they’ll—”
“Do it!”
I loosen the guns to allow the Enforcer to move freely in the room. The flashlight on the floor illuminates part of the room in a ghostly manner, casting large, intense shadows over the floor and up the busy wall, which is covered with small monitors, all blank of course due to the power outage. I imagine if the room was empty of all the electronic equipment it would look similar to the one I woke up in, strapped to that table. A ring of instrument panels circles the walls of the room and at the far end is a large, two-door cabinet, which uses another handprint and retinal scanner to access it. The scanner screen has a strange luminescence to it and some of the panels are lit, suggesting the use of some reserve energy source.
I keep a vigilant eye on the Enforcer, making sure he doesn’t make any suspicious moves. He picks up the flashlight and walks to one of the instrument panels on the left side of the circular room. He looks back at me nervously, then places his hand on the instrument panel, where the scanner flashes green briefly, giving the huge room an eerie glow. Then he lowers his face to the panel and scans his eye. A few more pushes of buttons and he looks back at me.
“Done,” the Enforcer declares.
“Prove it,” I demand. I have no clue what he did at that panel. For all I know he could have alerted the other Enforcers to what was happening down here. How could I possibly trust that this guy did what I demanded?
“Prove it?” he asks incredulously.
“Yes. Prove to me that you launched the system override,” I say, still pointing both guns at his chest.
The Enforcer’s shoulders slump as he shuffles over to the secured cabinet across the room. It’s only then that I realize that the screen is completely black. The luminescence I noticed before has disappeared. He glances back at me over his shoulder and opens the cabinet doors, then shuts them again.
“There,” he says. “If I hadn’t activated the override I wouldn’t be able to open this.” I nod, satisfied.
“Shuttle plans. Hand them over,” I command.
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Even though the darkness shrouds his face I can feel his lie in the air.
“Cut the crap. Give me the plans.”
He turns back to the cabinet sluggishly. The cabinet doors pop open and he flashes the light inside. I become aware that I haven’t moved a muscle since I s
tepped into this room. Remaining close to the exit, I step to the side and peer around the Enforcer’s svelte body to try and get a peek at what is in the cabinet.
The Enforcer turns holding something in his hand that I can’t quite make out, because the light of the flashlight blinds me. I squint and raise my left arm over my eyes to shield them from the piercing light. My instincts only kick in after I hear the POP of a gunshot. I react immediately, firing both my guns until the Enforcer lies in a bloody heap at the foot of the cabinet.
The sharp resonance of the ear-splitting gunshots echo inside my head for a few seconds. Then it all goes quiet. The creepy drone of the flashlight slowly rolling across the floor is the only sound to break the stark silence following the explosive blasts.
Suddenly, a shooting pain in the left side of my belly drives me to my knees. I drop both the guns and grasp the source of pain with my left hand, while leaning forward with my right. My shirt is wet and warm.
I’ve been shot.
Chapter 27
A vision of Lex’s tiny, chubby, smiling face seduces me before the image distorts into his cold, lifeless body dangling from my arms like the limbs of a weeping willow. Have I done it again? Have I just killed my son?
I scrub away all the previous desire for this baby to go away, for him to not exist. I want him. I need him. I need him so desperately I will continue to fight for him to live. The bullet entered the left side of my stomach, but it may have hit too high to puncture my uterus. It’s too soon to know for sure, but I have to hope. I can’t give up now.
I slide hand up and down my shorts, wiping the blood off, and pick up the gun, tucking it into the back of my shorts while rising unsteadily to my feet. Those gunshots were massively loud. Someone could burst through that door at any moment.
Crimson Return (Fall of Venus) Page 20
