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The Order of Omega (The Alpha Drive Book 2)

Page 11

by Kristen Martin


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  When Mason regained consciousness, he found himself standing in the Commander’s Office with . . . Warren? Emery’s dad? And an older man who had to be none other than Chief Novak.

  “Sit,” Victor commanded, motioning toward the chairs. Warren stood next to him, still as a statue.

  Mason felt his body move to a sitting position, even though the synapses in his brain hadn’t given the rest of his body this command. The Commander sat down at the exact same time he did.

  “Very good,” Victor purred, his head bobbing in approval. “Well done, Warren.”

  Mason tried to open his mouth to say something, but his face remained still, as if his lips had been sewn shut. Something told him that he was far away from 7S Headquarters—there had been a shift in elevation, and the temperature was cooler. He was somewhere high up. A mountain range, maybe?

  Stand up, he ordered, but his limbs wouldn’t respond in the slightest. An unsettling thought drifted through his head. My mind is not my own. But how can I still think? How do I have the thoughts I’m having right now? His thoughts were in the here and now, and he was somehow present in the moment, yet he couldn’t seem to act on those thoughts. Panic seized his entire body, but to an outsider, he appeared calm and collected.

  Victor clapped his hands as he looked at Warren. “I knew that, eventually, I’d find someone who would see my side of the story.”

  “You made quite a convincing case for the FCW’s mission, sir,” Warren said with a twisted grin. He turned his attention toward Mason. “You see, after we talked about Torin being in your way, I decided it was best to involve Victor. I eavesdropped on your conversation with Torin the night you reentered Dormance.”

  The footsteps in the alley, Mason thought grimly. They were Warren’s.

  “I have to admit, I was a little upset when you didn’t call me first or, come to think of it, at all,” Warren scoffed, “but I also reentered Dormance that same night to retrieve these.” He pulled a large black bag from behind his back and dumped it onto the floor. Thousands of tiny spider-like microchips sprawled out onto the ground. “I’m sorry I knocked you unconscious, but we had to test these little suckers out. By the looks of it, they’re working perfectly.”

  If Mason could show any sort of emotion, it would be pure disgust. But this new and improved microchip had its hold on him. He was paralyzed. Stuck in his worst nightmare.

  “Now it’s your turn,” Victor grunted, his eyes landing on Mason. “Tell me what you know.”

  Before he even knew what was happening, words came spewing out of his mouth like a garden hose on full blast, and as much as he tried to stop them, he couldn’t. He was helpless. “Emery knows who you are. She and Torin are meeting tomorrow night to strategize ways to defeat you.” He immediately regretted those last words.

  Victor smirked, his eyes narrowing. “I find that hard to believe. How will they meet when Emery is there and Torin is here?”

  Mason’s head turned robotically toward the far end of the room, his eyes landing on a clear capsule with a body in it.

  Torin’s body—floating freely within the capsule, his eyes shut as if he were in a deep, peaceful sleep.

  Mason’s head snapped back toward Victor.

  “Deploy the first wave of microchips,” Victor ordered.

  Mason watched in horror as wings grew from the sides of each spider-like microchip laying on the ground. In mere seconds, the devices took flight out of the crack in the enormous glass window.

  “By midnight, all 7S employees will have an embedded microchip,” Victor declared. “And I will be one step closer to finally creating the society I’ve always dreamed of.”

  I have to tell Emery. I have to get out of here!

  Mason tried again to stand up, to move even a finger, but it was no use. He attempted to look back over at the capsule that contained Torin’s body. Is he breathing? Is he still alive? But the chip had its hold on him. He was powerless.

  Emery was going to have to face this alone—and even though he had faith that she could do it, that she could defeat Victor all on her own—he was frightened that her faith in herself might just be on the brink of shattering.

  19

  Where is he? Emery thought as she stood in the middle of Torin’s apartment. It was exactly a quarter past eight and Mr. Porter was nowhere in sight. It wasn’t like him to be late, or worse, not show up at all.

  She wandered into the kitchen, then into his bedroom, looking to see if he’d left a note for her somewhere. She pulled out her phone, hoping to find a message, a voicemail, anything really, that would tell her where he was.

  The last time she’d spoken to him was the night before, when she’d shown him her mother’s letter and given him the omega pendant. Doubt had flickered across her mind as the pendant transferred ownership, but knowing what Victor was up to, she couldn’t risk carrying the real one. She toyed with the decoy pendant that now hung around her neck. The two looked almost identical, except for the miniscule blue dot on the back of the one that was now in her possession.

  She continued to examine the replica as she walked back over to the living room. She plopped onto the couch, her thoughts drifting to earlier that day. She’d stayed the night in Mason’s hotel room, but when she’d woken, he’d been nowhere in sight. It hadn’t concerned her all that much, seeing as Mason was a night owl, but when she’d gone to 7S Headquarters for the day, she’d noticed that most everyone was acting out of the ordinary. Every person she’d laid eyes on had walked with a purpose, like they were on some time-sensitive mission. A mission everyone knew about . . . except for her.

  As strange as this had been, the lunch hour had been on a completely different level of disturbing. SmartMeals were ordered, groups of people sat down and started eating, but there had been no small talk. No chatter. Just the sound of teeth grinding against food. Behaving in the same strange way as my father.

  Emery leaned her head back into the plush leather sofa and closed her eyes. It was clear that Torin either wasn’t coming or was held up somewhere. The most likely scenario? He was at 7S Headquarters, working late in his office. So that’s where I’ll go.

  With a grunt, she pulled herself up from the couch and walked back into the kitchen. As she was about to order a quick snack from SmartMeal, something unsettling caught her eye in the corner of the kitchen. Specks of red. Her hands and knees trembled as she knelt down to get a closer look. It was blood.

  Emery immediately darted over to the window and made her way down the apartment’s fire escape. With tears in her eyes, she located the nearest platform and teleported to 7S Headquarters. She couldn’t be sure that the blood in the apartment was actually Torin’s, but honestly, who else’s would it be?

  Passing through the security system this time around was easier than expected, meaning that someone had finally done their job and given her access. She waited patiently as the ground quaked beneath her and broke into its usual circular platform. The plexiglass bubble emerged from all around the platform to encapsulate her.

  Shortly after, the disc started along the tracks. She’d ridden into headquarters multiple times before, but the journey felt lonely this time. Torin had always been with her when they rode into the core of the building.

  As the disc neared the end of the tracks, she pressed the button overhead to disconnect the dome. She hopped out onto the platform and positioned herself in front of the final security checkpoint. The scanner identified her and silent cheers erupted in her head as the wall slid open. For the late hour, it was surprising how many people were still at the office. They must be preparing for something, she thought with a glimmer of hope. Maybe I’m right. Maybe Torin is working late after all.

  But something in her gut told her otherwise.

  She’d only been to Torin’s office once before, on the eighth floor, but she remembered exactly where it was located. She found the nearest T-Port and made her way to floor ei
ght. The hall was empty. She ran a few feet until she reached Torin’s office and peered in through the vertically-paned window. Lights off. Monitors off. Just like the hall, it was also empty.

  No sign of Torin.

  A wave of uneasiness washed over her as she stepped back onto the platform and, in a rash decision, teleported to the seventh floor. Maybe Torin’s meeting with my dad?

  Emery hurried down the hall to the oak door that led to her father’s office. She raised her hand to knock, pausing as another scenario entered her mind. What if Chief Novak is in there with him? What if this is what he wants and I’m walking right into the lion’s den? Emery lowered her hand and grasped the doorknob, her fingers trembling. Torin and my dad could be in there with Novak. I have to go in.

  With a deep breath, she turned the knob, feeling surprised when the door opened without a hitch. Complete and total darkness lay before her, stretching on for what seemed like miles. The only source of light, however faint, flickered in the distance. Her view was blocked by a wall at the end of the hallway, so she moved forward cautiously, feeling slightly relieved as more light illuminated the space before her. As she drew closer, her eyes landed on something jutting out from behind her father’s desk. What is that? She dashed over to the object, the decoy pendant bouncing out from underneath her shirt, her gaze fixed on what lay before her.

  It took everything in her to stifle a bloodcurdling scream.

  20

  Victor watched Emery fall to the ground at the sight of her father’s slain body. He stood at the other end of the desk, waiting for her to glare at him, yell at him, charge at him—but there was none of that. It was almost as if he didn’t exist. Instead, she’d positioned her body over her father’s, as if she could protect him and keep him out of harm’s way. A little too late for that, isn’t it?

  He cleared his throat to announce his presence, adjusting his posture as Emery raised her head. He tried to suppress a shiver as her steel grey eyes met his. Her face was already swollen and puffy from crying and, for a fleeting moment, he felt a pang of guilt, but it quickly subsided as a familiar darkness told hold.

  “You . . . coward,” she sneered through gritted teeth. “I didn’t take the leader of the Federal Commonwealth to be such a damn fool, but you proved me wrong.”

  It didn’t take much to ignore her insult. Frankly, he’d heard worse. “You have something I need.” His gaze dropped to her neck where the omega pendant was shining in the faux moonlight.

  Emery scowled and turned back toward her father, stroking his blood-matted hair. “You didn’t have to kill him,” she whispered, the rage in her voice growing. “You don’t have to kill anyone. No one needs to die.”

  Victor chortled, a low bellow sounding from deep within his chest. “Alas, you may be right. Unfortunately, that isn’t how we do things around here.”

  Hands shaking, Emery slowly pulled herself up from the ground. Before he could register what was happening, the girl snatched an electrified dagger from her father’s desk and lunged, flinging the pulsing blade at him with all of her strength.

  Although taken aback, Victor crouched and swerved to the left, the blue currents buzzing past his ear, the blade piercing the wall behind him. He collapsed as his foot caught the side of the desk and landed with a thud on the floor. As he propped himself upright, he could see Emery tugging at the handle to no avail, unable to pry the dagger loose.

  Before she could attack again, Victor swiftly extended his right leg so that his foot struck the side of her knee. She yelped in pain as her body crumpled to the ground. Blue currents traveled along the wall, getting dangerously close to the floor. Sheer agony covered her face as she attempted to stand again, but failed.

  With a smug look, Victor managed to bring himself to a standing position. He pulled the remote from his pocket and commanded Warren and Mason to enter the room. They emerged from the shadows on the wall, their eyes focused on their master.

  Emery’s eyes grew wide. “Warren? Mason? What the hell is this?”

  “Take her,” he spat as he pulled the dagger from the wall with ease. He leaned down so he was eye to eye with Emery. For once she actually looked fearful.

  Good.

  He snatched the pendant from around her neck, her head jolting forward from the force. “Thank you, Ms. Parker, for your cooperation.”

  “No!” she yelled. “No, I’m not leaving my dad!” She thrashed in her captors’ arms. Curses filled the room as Mason and Warren carried her out of the office. When it was finally silent, Victor closed his eyes and smiled, his hand closing around the final piece of the puzzle.

  21

  Mason narrowed his eyes as he followed Warren, who had Emery thrown over his shoulder, her arms swaying lifelessly to the rhythm of his footsteps. Much to his dismay, she’d been knocked out cold and there was nothing he could do to help her.

  A rage churned inside of him as he continued to follow his friend-turned-enemy down the hall. It was hard to believe that Warren, of all people, would succumb to the dark side and join forces with Novak.

  What was he thinking? Why would he do something like this?

  Warren was someone he’d grown so close with over the last year, someone who had earned his trust—but now, he seemed like a complete stranger, someone he didn’t know at all. Even worse, he was a traitor.

  The Warren he knew wouldn’t have switched sides. The Warren he knew was steadfast and loyal to his core. Which is what makes this whole situation so infuriating. It was almost as if they’d time-warped or entered some parallel universe where everyone said and did the opposite of the things they believed in. And that was a world Mason did not care to live in.

  Warren stopped abruptly in front of him, jolting him from his thoughts. Somehow, his body knew to stop just before running into him, even though his mind hadn’t given the command. He’d come to terms with the fact that his mind and actions were being controlled, but Mason had to wonder whether or not Victor realized that he still had his own thoughts and feelings. He could still generate his own opinions and was consciously aware of them. Even though he couldn’t act on them, they were there. He was still himself, trapped inside of a robot soldier, obeying any and every command he was given.

  Earlier, when he’d walked into the Commander’s office and laid eyes on Emery, he’d wished more than anything that he could have gone to her, to comfort her. Witnessing the grief written all over her face had been almost too much to bear. It’d taken a moment for him to understand why she was so upset—and that’s when he’d seen it: her father lying motionless behind his desk, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth.

  Dead.

  He’d almost hurled at the sight, but the commands inside his head had forced him to do otherwise. So, in a decision that wasn’t his own, he’d helped Warren pick Emery up and carry her out of the office.

  His thoughts returned to the present as they reached a platform. “Well, go on then,” Warren said as he gestured to the machine.

  In his mind, Mason shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other as he stepped onto the platform. What’s going to happen to her? It was the one question he so desperately wanted to ask, but couldn’t.

  Warren and an unconcscious Emery joined him. “President Novak’s Chamber,” Warren instructed the machine.

  “Access code required,” a female voice ordered.

  Warren pressed a seven-digit code into the machine’s holographic interface and waited for confirmation. A few seconds and frigid gust of air later, they found themselves inside what could only be Novak’s command station—it was the same place Mason had been brought to when he’d been captured.

  Glass windows lined the perimeter, but the rest of the structure was made of stone—the floors, the walls, the ceiling—like a dungeon from back in medieval times. It honestly wouldn’t have been surprising if knights in full suits of armor suddenly appeared to take them prisoner and throw them into some twisted tor
ture chamber.

  “This way,” Warren ordered as he took a few steps down a narrow hallway. Mason did as he was told, his eyes following the endless mountainous terrain until stone walls terminated his view. As he walked along the corridor, bright circles lit up the ceiling. He turned to look behind him, noticing that as they left each section, the lights turned off, one by one.

  The corridor finally came to an end. An enormous steel door was the only thing separating them from whatever was on the other side. Warren scanned his hand, then typed in the same seven-digit code he’d used on their way there. The steel door creaked and clacked as it lifted upward into the ceiling.

  On the other side of the door was yet another hallway. In his mind, he let out a disgruntled sigh and continued to follow Warren. This hallway looked exactly like the others, except for the multiple rooms lining each side. Warren stopped at one numbered 082, Emery’s arms still swinging over his shoulder with each motion.

  Warren crouched down so that he was eye-level with yet another scanner. A green light flashed across his retina and the door popped open. “This will do,” he said without a hint of remorse in his voice. He transferred Emery from his shoulder to Mason’s, then rolled his hand in a sarcastic gesture.

  Mason walked into the cell, then knelt down to the ground and carefully rolled Emery from his shoulder onto the damp stone floor.

  Still unconscious. Still unmoving.

  Don’t leave her here, his mind warned. But as much as he wanted to stay, he found himself moving out of the cell and back into the hallway. The door locked loudly behind him.

  Do not leave her.

  His pleas were pointless. With one foot in front of the other, Mason submissively followed Warren back down the hallway, glaring at the back of his head the entire way.

 

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