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Soulless (The Immortal Gene Trilogy Book 1)

Page 12

by Jacinta Maree


  A moment after I sent the message, they replied.

  There used to be a guard dog. It’s dead. You’ll be fine.

  I pinched my forehead at the stress-induced headache. I really am going to die here. Slowly and cautiously, I approached the light and the closer I reached, the more the carpet seemed to sink underneath my shoes. I stopped within touching distance as the red light blinked twice, hitting my retinas.

  “Registering.” The robotic voice from the camera said. After two dings it asked, “Password?”

  Password? Wait does that mean it worked? Did it accept the scan?

  I quickly pulled out the phone again as the machine churned.

  “Password?” It asked again.

  “Hold on, hold on.” Before I could hit dial, half-a-dozen red lasers suddenly appeared all over my body and face from points around the room. I stumbled back and loudly gasped. “What the?”

  “Password incorrect.”

  Oh, shit! Panicked, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “Krist Truggian.”

  The lasers promptly dropped. “Password accepted.”

  My heart gripped the base of my throat. Really? That’s his password? It took me a couple of moments to calm the spike of panic that came with being almost assassinated. Oh, man! That was too close. Behind the camera, a door lead into a secret room hidden in the walls. I walked in and used my phone light to scan the area. I wasn’t exactly sure what I expected. Considering how desperately Krist tried to keep the room concealed, I figured he was secretly a pirate and I had stumbled upon his buried treasure. Instead, the small office was scattered with opened half-filled boxes, vials of what I assumed to be the D400 medication, stacks of untidy paperwork, cash, guns and golden thick bars. I quickly dialled the girl’s number and she answered after one ring.

  “Did you get through?”

  “Are you insane? If these contacts didn’t work I would’ve been incinerated by lasers.”

  “Wait, so they did work?”

  “Yeah, no thanks to you. Why didn’t you tell me about the password?”

  “You’re in? You’re really inside?”

  I growled. “Answer the question. Why did you send me into an armed vault without the freaking password?!”

  “We didn’t know about the password. Danger is just part of the job. Can you see a bulky, black suitcase near you? It has some key bindings on the twin locks and a symbol of a helmet.”

  I looked around but it appeared as though someone had already tried to riffle through everything. I rummaged through a few boxes when I spotted a long, bulky suitcase tucked under a stack of folders. It was about the size of a violin case and on the spine was an outline of a war helmet. I squeezed the phone between my shoulder and ear to free up my other hand as I heaved the folders off. As I turned back to grab the black case, I gasped and dropped the phone.

  Hidden behind the stacks of papers was an old man strapped to a recliner chair. Sticking out of his chest, neck and arms were long, plastic tubes that ran fluids into his body and connected to a large drum beside him.

  “Hello? Hello? Did you find it? Can you hear me? What’s going on?” the girl’s voice called up from the ground.

  I scooped the phone back up. “Why is there an old man in here?”

  “What are you talking about? What old man?”

  “I don’t know his bloody name. It’s just some old man connected to some sort of life support.” I edged closer and peered into his sunken, pale face. His eyebrow twitched. Well, at least I knew he was alive.

  There was a moment of silence. “It can’t be. Vance, I think we just found Jonny.”

  Over her voice, a light beep sounded from beside me, causing me to turn. It started off soft, but then grew in sharper and faster pulses. “Stay where you are. We’re coming to you.” I jerked back at her voice.

  “Hang on. I can hear something beeping…”

  The fast pulses turned into a loud, steady ring. On the wall, hidden in the shadows appeared a small box with a timer counting down from nine… eight… seven…

  Holy… it’s a bomb!? I snatched the black case and threw myself through the door and out into the other room. Without slowing, I ran into the darkness, my shoes slipping on the wet carpet before diving to the ground in a frantic scramble for the hole. Fuelled on adrenaline, I threw myself head first downwards just as an explosion ripped over the top of my shoes. The exploding crack blasted against my eardrums, throwing my head to the side as I landed on my back on the stack of chairs. The pain ran the length of my body as I tumbled off the tables to the ground. I screamed and grabbed my pounding head.

  The flames completely engulfed the upper level as smoke and fire squeezed through the hole above me in giant, fiery fingers. I managed to crawl onto my knees and then to my feet before slipping the gas mask over my face. By then, the smoke had already scratched my throat and eyes as the irritation dislodged the contacts. I managed to blink them back into place as the ceiling crumbled into falling shards of debris. The smoke that bellowed out of the cracks came in thick and heavy as fire caught on around me. I dropped down to a crouch, picked up the suitcase and continued to run.

  I hit the door leading into the staircase with all my strength. The high-pitched ring against my inner ear covered over my coughing, but didn’t cover the splintering screech as the metal beams above my head started to melt and bend.

  The scorching heat was unbearable, trying to wring me dry. Move, Nadia, move! I jumped the last few steps, wiggled through the gaps in the boards and ran out into the foyer. The debris from the ceiling fell hard and cracked the tiles on impact. I dodged sharply to the left, just avoiding a clump of plaster from slamming on top of me as the suitcase slipped out of my hands. The front door had already vanished beneath the smouldering bricks and the rest of the structure was tipping fast. I scrambled back up, snatched the suitcase and took off to the side. There was a shaft of light spilling in through the splinters in the walls just ahead. Just run. Shit, just run! I ducked down as the ceiling skimmed over the top of me.

  Only steps away from freedom, something hit the crown of my head hard and I toppled over the window frame and skidded out onto the road outside. Lights spun like bulbs on twisting wires above me. Behind, I could hear the tower tip backward and the incoming explosion as it demolished the surroundings buildings beneath it.

  I turned onto my back and quickly protected my head. As the thunderous noise dulled, the rise of the approaching sirens came closer. I looked up but couldn’t see beyond the dust smeared over my lenses. Aching all over and overwhelmed, I pulled the gasmask down around my neck and took three, loud gasping breaths in.

  “What happened?” A stranger called as she ran from across the road. I felt an arm haul me up to a stand. I bent over my knees, coughing and rasping for air. “Hey! Did you do this?”

  Five patrol cars pulled up a moment later. I glanced up at the sound of their sirens and the flash of red and blue crossing the wreckage. Among them, Sweepers appeared, their scanning red beams already digging into the rubble.

  “Hey? Lady, can you hear me?” I snapped back as the woman leant toward my face. For a brief moment I had forgotten where I was. I quickly secured the mask back over my face and left the scene quickly before anyone else noticed me here.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

  I stuck to the shadows as I made my way back to China Town and climbed the stairs toward the others. Using the weight of the suitcase, I rammed the door open on my entrance. Diesel jumped as though startled. His look of surprise quickly sharpened to suspicion as the red-headed girl jumped back from the window.

  “What the hell did you do?” she demanded.

  “Me?” I scoffed and spat the remaining dirt out of my mouth. “I didn’t do that. It was rigged with a bomb, you assholes! You nearly had me killed!” I slammed the suitcase on top of the table. “Twice!”

  “No one had ever been able to get past the first scan. We didn’t know about the bomb. But, if we work tog
ether, we can—”

  “Work together? You’re lucky I’m not snapping your necks!”

  The girl held her hands together as she begged, “You have an amazing opportunity to make life so much better for everyone. With us, you can change the world!”

  From the back of the room, there was a sudden scream of metal bending followed by a distressed yelp. We spun around as Diesel yanked the red head boy to his chest with his handcuffs pulled across his throat. The pipe he had been tied to was bent out of shape as the boy choked and dropped his crossbow.

  Quickly, his sister aimed her gun up. “What do you think you’re doing? Let him go!”

  Diesel used the boy’s body as a shield while I snatched at the crossbow and aimed it at her. “Drop it. Now!”

  Out of options, she carefully lowered her aim and held her hands up to express her surrender. “You don’t want to kill us.”

  “You’re in no position to be telling me what to do. Get on the ground.” The girl dropped to her knees, looking between Diesel, whose white fists curled around the reddening face of her brother, and me with the arrow trained to her forehead.

  “We are telling you the truth. We can help you.”

  I lifted the crossbow higher so the stock rested against my shoulder. “And why should I trust you now?”

  “Just look inside the briefcase. It’s all there. Just… just don’t kill him.”

  I glanced down at the briefcase. “How do I know it’s not another trick?”

  “I’ll open it then.”

  “No!” I placed the suitcase on the table and pushed it across to Diesel. “Your brother can open it.”

  “Fine, fine just open it and you’ll see.”

  Diesel loosened his grip just enough that the boy didn’t pass out in his arms. He fumbled with the locks before releasing the bindings so the case popped open on its spring. He then quickly snapped his hands back to his neck, trying to wiggle some space between his throat and the chains. We both edged forward to look into the case when Diesel suddenly unwrapped the cuffs and shoved the boy to the ground.

  “You’re part of the Blue Dons?” In the case, Diesel pulled out a grey and black gun from one of the compartments. He flicked the switch at the back as a strip of neon blue lit up along the sides and the open barrel.

  “What type of weapon is that?” I asked.

  “We’re not part of the Blue Dons; we just knew Krist had one of their guns. It’s called a Deadener,” the boy answered as he soothed his throat. “It fries the brain without killing the body, pretty much turning the person into a vegetable. It’s a way to trap the soul to a corpse so it can’t return.”

  “So that old man that I saw inside the office, he had been shot with one of these guns?”

  “Yes. He was our boss, Jonny, but he got jumped while on a mission and they locked him up.”

  “Your boss? Mission? Who are you people exactly?”

  The girl answered warily, “Everyone calls me Frankie. This is my brother, Vance. We’re from a specialist organisation known for gathering vital information. We’re informants.”

  She stood up carefully and turned the suitcase toward herself. Inside, behind the cushion concave where the pistol was, she pulled out a thin silver tablet. “You’re looking for the Mad Dogs, right? This tablet has up-to-date information about everyone belonging to the five main terrorist groups. It has their movements, their current identities, their allies and recent purchases. Anything about anyone is on this tablet. We can help you if you agree to help us too!”

  “How do you know we’re looking for the Mad Dogs?” Diesel snarled.

  “You were at their old hide out when I first met you. Plus, I know who you are Diesel, or should I say Vladimir?” Diesel’s eyes twitch, sending a ripple down his jaw and into his neck where the veins popped out. I cocked my eyebrow, guessing Vladimir was a past identity. I may have pressed for more information, but with everything happening I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the man before Diesel. “We know you’re one of them. As I said, we’re informants. We make it our business to know. Krist Truggian is the officer in charge of terrorist and crime organisations. He stole this tablet from our boss and locked it away with his body, hoping no one would find it.”

  Outside, disturbed shouting from the drifters rose up from the streets. Frankie turned back to the window and looked out, “Looks like we have company.”

  Among the drifters, a squad of policed officers and Sweepers started to circle the office building. With them, directing the way was the woman that had helped me up.

  “Oh crap, I must’ve been followed!”

  “Well, guess it’s time to decide.” Vance turned and offered his hands to us, “You can either join us and we’ll take you to the Mad Dogs or we go our separate ways?”

  Diesel and I glanced at each other, not really having any other leads, agreed with a brisk nod. “All right, fine let’s just get out of here.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:

  Vance unlocked Diesel’s wrist cuffs as we all scrambled into our gear.

  “We can get out this way.” Frankie signalled as she wrapped her neck and face in a thick, cotton brown scarf as to shield her identity. Vance hiked up his collar and pulled his hood over his head. We followed them through the back doors of the building, weaving through the windows and down the fire escape outside.

  From the second floor, we jumped out onto the pavement before hurrying into the neighbouring building. Frankie stopped by the side entrance before motioning toward a small drain hole by the ground. It was slim, perhaps shoulder-width apart and dropped into a wet pipe. She lifted the metal bars up as Vance went in first; he slipped down onto his rear and dropped into the drain feet first. His shoulders scrapped the sides as he wiggled free. I followed after him as I dropped down into the pipes below. Icy water jumped up my calves and saturated my socks as I landed. Diesel and Frankie landed in a splash behind us, before Frankie took out a flashlight and continued onwards. We moved fast, snaking our way under the roads of the large city.

  As we walked into the slim bellies of the pipes, I asked, “Where are you taking us?”

  “Outside the city walls,” Frankie answered. “We have a car just on the other side of the pipes; we can get you out and on the road in no time. Can’t say it’s going to be easy sneaking out two fugitives.”

  “You know about us?”

  “Even an idiot would recognise you. Your faces are everywhere. Especially that mess you call a friend.” She signalled toward Diesel. “Not exactly one to blend in with the crowd.”

  “Let’s just move it along. I’m really not in the mood for chatter,” Diesel barked.

  “He’s just grumpy because a bunch of teenagers got the jump on him,” Vance laughed.

  Diesel swung around. “Explain to me why exactly we need the both of you for this?”

  “Come on, Diesel.” I ushered him forward. “Let’s just get out of the here first.” As we walked further, I automatically searched my pockets for my phone before remembering it wasn’t with me anymore. “Wait, Frankie, I want my phone back too!”

  She slowed to glance over her shoulder. “Your phone? Oh, yeah, I destroyed it. Sorry, couldn’t have someone tracking it. Especially with your criminal record, the phone would be the first thing they would hit.”

  I grit my teeth. “You didn’t have to destroy it. Where is it now?”

  “In the trash.”

  “Great!” I sarcastically snorted. “Did you at least wipe it so it can’t be read?”

  “Of course I did. Do you think we’re amateurs?”

  I licked my lips nervously. I had almost forgotten about the microchip I had left in the memory slot of the phone. That had everything about me on it, from my personal medical history, childhood issues, right down to which side of the bed I slept on.

  “Did you find anything on my phone? Like a small microchip?”

  Diesel slowed and looked over his shoulder at my question. I glared at him through the shadows
as Frankie answered, “Umm… no, I didn’t even think to check. I was too nervous the Elite were going to find it so I just smashed it pretty quickly.”

  “Good.”

  “What was on the chip?” Diesel asked.

  I stuck my nose up. “None of your business.”

  We hit the end of the piping to an old rusty stepladder that scaled the inner walls toward a small manhole. Vance climbed up first and checked to ensure the coast was clear. He then hoisted the steel rim upwards and pulled himself to a stand. We followed quickly behind as the pipe opened up into a clearing of a large parking lot. There were weeds growing through the splits in the concrete, an old gymnasium and about ten large dumpster bins lined along the building wall. Abandoned trollies and bundles of trash littered the area like a wasteland.

  “This way.” Frankie motioned toward the gym where she uncovered an old sedan parked behind the dumpers. It had some dinks in the bonnet and scratches running the side doors, probably from another car swiping past.

  Vance got into the driver’s seat and started the ignition. “Yes, she still runs.”

  “Good. You guys get into the back; we know a way out of the city walls without going through the toll ways. It’s our best option.”

  I quickly nodded as Diesel and I climbed into the back of the car. Leaving the parking lot, Vance took the side dirt track at the rear before heading toward the perimeter of the west exit. The small sedan crept through the back streets as we hemmed along the barricades closer to the city walls. Outside my window, I saw the thick barred, iron gates that lined the perimeter like a frozen, metal wave crashing into shore. Every few miles, there were checkpoints where guarded tolls secured the passage. All cars going in and out had to squeeze through the throat of the booths. On the inner side of the gates were a line of old factories that stood shoulder-to-shoulder next to the barricade. We pulled up a one-storey garage with a giant green X spray painted on the metal door. It looked just wide enough to fit the sedan as Frankie opened the garage door with an electronic remote. As the door opened, Vance drove into the bare garage where on the other side, we faced a brick wall with little to no room to turn around.

 

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