by Kyla Stone
“If you’re a New Patriot, what are you doing with the Pyros?” Amelia asked.
“They were easy to infiltrate. Moruga has a thing for fire. My face was made for him.” Cleo gestured airily at her scars. “Yuan, our science geek who also knows his way around a gun, came with me. The Pyros do contract work for the government inside the Sanctuary. We’ve been undercover for three months now. Feels like a year, honestly. But what better way for us to get intel than to hide in plain sight?”
“We won’t be hiding anymore,” Li Jun said.
“We’re breaking cover for you people,” Cleo said. Her gaze narrowed at Amelia. “For the cure.”
Willow looked at Benjie. She was Ate. It was her job to keep him alive, no matter the cost, no matter the risk. It was like jumping from the frying pan into the fire. But there was no choice. They either took a chance and put their lives in the hands of the enemy, or they stayed here and died.
Cleo circled them, prowling like the predator she was, taking everything in. Her eyes narrowed as she assessed them. “A motley bunch. Rather pathetic.”
Silas bared his teeth. “Not so pathetic I can’t break your neck with one arm tied behind my back.”
Willow felt a sort of perverse pride. Silas was an ass, but he was their ass. She’d take Silas over this chick any day.
“There’s no going back after this,” Cleo said. “You’d better be worth it.”
Willow grimaced. “We are.”
She grabbed Benjie’s hand, helped him to his feet, and strode out of their prison. They were in a long, wide corridor bracketed with dozens of doors. The walls were not as blinding but still white, the floors muted gray tiles.
She blinked against the fluorescent lights, still not used to electricity after all this time. Everything looked very sterile, like a hospital or lab.
“What is this place?” she asked.
“Rodell Industries’ research and development lab,” Cleo said briskly. “It shares a skybridge with the Hyatt Renaissance, aka Pyro headquarters, and is kitty-corner to the Fox Theater, which Moruga loves for some reason. That room he kept you in was used for some kind of selected sensory deprivation experiment. It’s Moruga’s favorite jail cell.”
Willow stopped dead in her tracks. Cleo wasn’t the only predator in the room. One of the enormous lions sat only a few feet away, its tail twitching. It was as tall as Benjie and looked so bizarrely out of place that it was surreal, almost comical. Until it yawned, showing off every single one of its long, pointed teeth.
Benjie’s fingers tightened on hers. “Can I pet him, Lo Lo?”
“No way. That thing will swallow you in one gulp.”
“Actually, lions tear and chew their food into smaller chunks before swallowing,” Li Jun said as he bent over a large, lumpy canvas bag on the hover cart beside him. ‘Though they usually kill their prey quickly by crushing the windpipe with their powerful jaws—”
Willow blanched. “We’ve got the picture, thanks.”
Finn and Micah inched past Apollo, both their faces ashen. Silas looked like he was about to vomit. Amelia’s face was as white as the walls around them. Only Celeste seemed more curious than scared, probably due to blood loss.
Yuan winked at Benjie. “Actually, Apollo’s harmless.”
Cleo scowled. “Are we giving away all our secrets now?”
Willow stared at them warily. “What do you mean?”
Yuan pointed at Apollo’s shock collar, which had faded to a dull blue. “The lions are mods, but Moruga fitted them with electrified collars. The shock makes them angry. They’ll bellow and growl and roar and look fierce, but they won’t attack. Moruga uses them to frighten and intimidate.”
“It works,” Micah said.
Celeste hobbled past Willow and went right up to the lion.
“What are you doing?” Willow asked, alarmed.
Celeste reached out her hand, palm flat, toward Apollo. “I always loved cats.”
“That’s no cat,” Willow said.
Celeste ignored her. “My Mom had a modded cheetah named Psyche.”
Willow rolled her eyes, but she watched, half-fascinated, half-horrified, as the lion allowed Celeste to rub the top of its head between its enormous ears. A rumbling sound erupted from deep in its throat. It chuffed softly.
Cleo arched her brows. “At least one of you isn’t a scaredy-assed baby.”
“I’m not a baby.” Before she could stop him, Benjie darted forward and buried his hands in Apollo’s mane.
Willow’s first instinct was to scream at him, to drag him back to safety, to throw herself at the mercy of the lion’s jaws—whatever she had to do to protect her brother.
Finn grabbed her arm, swaying unsteadily. “He’s okay. The kitty won’t hurt him.”
Willow hissed out a breath. “Kitty?”
But the lion only sat there, apparently harmless, placidly purring like a house cat. Although she’d read somewhere that lions couldn’t purr. Which just made the whole situation even more bizarre.
Her instincts remained on high alert. This might still be a trick. Cleo could not be trusted. But what choice did they have? The only alternative was burning at the stake like the Salem witches in the 1700s. Those people had been innocent, too.
“Two patrol drones headed our way,” Li Jun said tensely as he looked down at his SmartFlex, where a glowing 3D blueprint of the building projected over his arm, rotating slowly. It was some kind of biometric sensor map. Two blinking red dots moved toward them from the east.
Cleo swore and looked at her own sleek black cuff. “The drones aren’t supposed to reach this floor for another ten minutes.”
“The net is back online?” Willow asked, hope surging through her.
“No,” Li Jun said. “The Pyros hacked into a local, closed network.”
She was more disappointed than she wanted to admit.
Two more red dots appeared from the west, blinking rapidly. “What the hell?” Cleo hissed. “These aren’t on the schedule.”
“We’ve got four human guards at the south entrance, six at the west,” Li Jun said. “It’s time to go.”
Cleo pulled out two auto-injector syringes and handed them to Gabriel, who stood closest to her. He looked like he wanted to strangle her about as much as Willow did.
“What are those?” Willow asked suspiciously.
“Adrenaline stims. We have a doctor at the compound, but these will keep your wounded on their feet for twenty-four hours.”
“And what if we don’t get to your little hideout by then?” Willow asked.
Cleo’s expression didn’t change. “Then it won’t matter because we’ll all be dead.”
Gabriel injected Celeste and Finn. Finn sighed in relief. “Much better.”
Li Jun pulled a handful of masks and gloves from the canvas bag and handed them out. Willow tugged hers on, put on Benjie’s, then stood on tiptoe to help Finn with his.
Dark purple circles rimmed his eyes. His skin was gray. He didn’t look good. The adrenaline needed to kick in soon, or he’d be in trouble. More trouble than they were already in.
Horne staggered to his feet, clutching his nose. His left eye was purple-black and swollen, his nose misshapen and an ugly yellowish-green. It was clearly broken. Gabriel had a powerful right hook. “What about me? I’m in extreme pain. I’ll pass out without something to alleviate my suffering.”
Willow hooked a thumb in Horne’s direction. “Please tell me we can leave him behind.”
Yuan frowned. “He’ll tell Moruga everything as soon as they find him.”
“True.” Cleo raised the gun. “So we kill him, then.”
“Please!” Horne cried, sniffling pathetically, raising both arms as he begged for his life. “I made a mistake! I was wrong. I was terrified and out of my right mind. Please—”
“No!” Micah said. “He’s unarmed. That would be—it’s wrong. Besides, we’ve got a kid with us.”
Cleo made an irritated noise.
“If I knew I was gonna get stuck with the morality police, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
Willow would have agreed with Cleo if not for Benjie. She shoved her hair behind her ears. “Fine. Let’s go, numbnuts.”
“T-thank you,” Horne stammered. “You have no idea how appreciative—”
“Unless you want to be cold-cocked again,” Willow said, “I’d advise you to shut the hell up. Do not speak. Do not make a single sound suggestive of internal thought.”
Mercifully, Horne fell silent.
“Less talking, more ass-moving.” Cleo gestured toward a steel door at the end of the long corridor. “That way.”
Willow and the others followed Cleo. She and Micah stayed close to Gabriel. Silas took up the rear. Finn grabbed Benjie with his uninjured hand.
Celeste took a few steps and stumbled. She put her hand on the wall to steady herself. “I’m fine.”
She clearly wasn’t. “Oh, hell. Come on.” Willow rolled her eyes but offered her arm. Celeste rested her forearm on her shoulder, using her like a crutch.
“Don’t say a word,” Willow growled.
Celeste pursed her lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Horne hobbled along behind them, holding his broken nose and moaning. No one offered to help him.
“What about weapons?” Silas asked, his hostility slightly subdued now that they were actually getting out of this hellhole. Maybe.
Cleo signaled to Li Jun. As they walked, he pulled several knives, guns, and ammo packs from the canvas bag. “I have access to the armory, but the guards wouldn’t let me take more than our allotted four rifles in addition to mine and Li Jun’s. The pulse guns were already checked out. Who can fight?”
Gabriel, Silas, and Micah raised their hand. Willow raised her free arm.
Cleo shot her a dubious look. “You? Aren’t you, like, ten?”
Willow gritted her teeth, the wound on her neck pulsing. “Look, you little—”
“She can handle herself,” Silas said. His face was impassive, but he watched Cleo’s every movement with razor sharpness. He hated her, too. Another thing they had in common.
Willow gave him a grateful look as she bit back her anger. She held out her hand for a weapon. Li Jun gave her a small handgun. Gabriel, Silas, and Micah received semi-automatic rifles with two extra magazines.
Yuan handed them each a small, round object the size of the head of a thumbtack. “These are comms. Stick them inside your ears. I’ve already set up a secure channel. The Pyros could hack it fairly easily, but by the time they think of it, we should be long gone.”
Willow put in the comm and slipped the gun into her holster. She planned to use it on Cleo the first chance she got. They needed her to get out of the building. But once they were clear … all bets were off. “Just how are we getting out of here?”
“The only way we can. We’re going under.”
Beside her, Finn stiffened. “Under like under the city? Through the sewers?”
It took a moment for Finn’s words to sink in. A tremor went through her. “As in, the home of millions of rats on a good day? I thought you were trying to rescue us, not get us eaten alive by little mutant monsters.”
“Plans changed,” Cleo said. “Plan A was to sneak out the south entrance while Rodgers took his twice-nightly twenty-minute dump. Plan B was to stun or kill a few of the guards if we needed to, but there’s too many for us to surprise. Moruga sent extra security. He’s a half-crazed pyromaniac, but he’s not stupid.” She glanced at Amelia. “He knows how valuable you are. He probably suspects one of his own people might try to steal you and sell you to the Sanctuary themselves to pocket the profit. We have no choice. We’re moving to plan C.”
Willow’s stomach sank. “How are we going to make it through the sewers? Have you seen how fast those rats move?”
“Rats are very intelligent creatures,” Li Jun said cheerfully. “Some say they’re as smart as dogs. Their social hierarchy is close to ours. Their eyesight isn’t great, but once they learn a navigation route, they never forget. They can communicate through sound frequencies humans can’t hear. Some of the reasons they make both excellent pets and research subjects—”
“In other words, we’re dead meat,” Willow said. Celeste’s bony elbow dug into her shoulder. She gritted her teeth as they passed a few dozen doors on either side of the corridor, all closed.
“We’re gonna scare them away.” Cleo’s tone was matter-of-fact, without a hint of anxiety or concern. She either truly didn’t get the danger they were about to leap into, or she really was a sociopath.
Willow voted for sociopath. “The only thing those freak rodents are scared of is fire.”
Cleo paused at the top of the stairwell. She pulled a long object out of the canvas bag on the hover cart and hefted it with a wicked smile. “Which is why we brought flamethrowers.”
27
Amelia
Amelia and the others raced down the first set of stairs without encountering any obstacles. In her right hand, she gripped the flamethrower Li Jun had given her, a sleek white weapon with twin top-mounted canisters, a propane tank in front, napalm behind it.
They’d left Apollo on the seventh floor, sitting at the top of the stairs, its tail twitching, placidly waiting for someone to fetch him. Since the other Pyros knew he wasn’t dangerous, the lion no longer served a purpose.
“And he eats like an elephant,” Li Jun said. “Try scavenging food for six of them.”
At the landing of the third floor, Cleo and Li Jun paused to check their SmartFlex building schematics. “Four guards just hit the second floor.”
“Should we go back up?” Amelia adjusted her grip on the flamethrower. Cleo had brought four of them—one for herself, Li Jun, Amelia, and Willow. She had no real idea how to use it. Would it be enough once they’d reached the sewers? Could they really hold off the infected rats? But there was no time to second-guess their plan.
“The drones are too close,” Cleo said. “They’re one floor up and checking the second to last door. They’ll scan this stairwell within thirty seconds.”
“The third floor it is.” Gabriel moved ahead of them and opened the steel-reinforced door. Everyone rushed through as quickly and silently as possible.
Just as Gabriel closed the stairwell door behind them, a sound came from the second floor. The bang of a heavy door closing.
“Hostiles on the second floor,” Gabriel whispered. “It won’t take them long to clear it, then they’ll head up to us.”
‘What now?” Amelia tried not to panic, tried to control her rapid breathing. That old familiar fear swelled inside her, coating her insides. The fear that made her useless and weak.
“Give me a second,” Cleo snapped.
Amelia and Willow exchanged nervous glances. Celeste leaned heavily on Willow’s shoulder, her features rigid with pain. She felt every second of passing time like a bomb ticking. “We don’t have all day,” Willow said.
Cleo turned in a slow circle and finally pointed. “There’s another stairwell at the opposite end of the building, but it doesn’t take us where we need to go. It accesses the main level reception area, but not the basement.”
“We can cross the skybridge to get to the Hyatt,” Li Jun said. “The lobby elevators go to a basement storage area with sewer access.”
Cleo swore again. “Too many drones. A single alert ping and they’ll shoot to kill.”
Yuan shook his head. “Those drones only monitor the hotel’s perimeter. They’re programmed to protect the outside, not the inside. Plus, Moruga has dozens of guards at street level, but there’s only two on each end of the skybridge.”
“And we can reach the skybridge from the third floor.” Cleo studied the schematics with a fierce frown. “It’s the best we can do.”
She glanced up at Gabriel, her gaze hard and calculating. “You’re a New Patriot. You know your way around a combat zone, yeah?”
Gabriel tightened his grip on his weapon
. “Of course.”
She jerked her chin at Li Jun. “He’s merely adequate. I need someone to take point with me.”
“I’m not offended at all,” Li Jun said, sounding more exasperated than angry.
“I’m a better shot than he is,” Silas said indignantly from behind them.
Cleo shook her head. “I don’t trust any of you. At least I know what I’m getting with him.”
Gabriel glanced at Amelia, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You okay?”
Her heart beat with frenzied wings inside her chest. Her body buzzed, her fingers tingling, hands shaking. It was like she was back on the ship again, trapped in the Oceanarium, trapped with nowhere to run.
Gabriel was looking at her the way he had back on the Grand Voyager, like he was drowning and only she could save him, like he was falling and only she could catch him. “Amelia.”
“Yes,” she managed, her throat thickening.
“I’ll stay with Amelia,” Micah said.
A look passed between the brothers. Gabriel nodded tightly, the muscle in his jaw bulging. He was protective of her. They both were. In this moment, surrounded by enemies, with panic and gut-wrenching fear threatening to undo her, she was grateful for it.
“I’m fine, too,” Finn mumbled. “Thanks for asking.”
“We can do this,” she said as much to herself as Gabriel. She couldn’t let the fear win, couldn’t let it control her like it had all those years she’d cowered before her father’s cruelty and contempt. She was stronger than that now. She took a breath, steeling herself. “We’re not made of glass.”
Gabriel nodded curtly.
“Stop picking your asses and move,” Cleo called over her shoulder.
They sprinted down the corridor. Her legs felt like lead, but she forced them to move. “Why can’t we go out a back door?”
“Too many guards, and they’ll track us easily in the snow,” Cleo said. “We need the sewers to get us to the subway tunnels, which will get us far enough away from headquarters that we can slip back to the surface without being seen—or tracked. Then we use the AirTrain track to get to our rendezvous point.”
