The Elderon Chronicles Box Set

by Tarah Benner

  I turn around and keep on walking. If he’s here to tell me to get on that shuttle, he’s wasting precious time. Jonah has been in Mordecai’s lair too long. He could be dead already.

  “Maggie! Wait up!”

  “What do you want, Jared?” I huff, not slowing down.

  “I’m coming with you!”

  This stops me in my tracks. I wheel around to look at him. “Why?”

  Jared doubles over, heaving for air. He’s sweaty and out of breath, and he looks as though he’s in pain. I don’t think he’s thought this through.

  “I want to help.”

  At those words, something in my tough outer shell cracks. I look at him, still heaving, and realize there’s nothing I can say to dissuade him. Jared is as determined as I am, and we don’t have time to argue.

  I give him a nod and keep on moving, and Jared follows at a wheezy jog.

  We don’t encounter a single bot between the docking station and the BlumBot offices. Either they’re all conveniently recharging somewhere right as we’re about to stroll into Mordecai’s lair, or they’re all standing guard on the other side of that door.

  When we reach BlumBot, the double glass doors whoosh open automatically, and my chest tightens with nerves. The last time I was here, we found Ziva’s staff dead — slaughtered by the bots they helped to create. The devastation was staggering — corpse after corpse. It was an ambush. They never saw it coming.

  I have to swallow down my nerves as we approach the front desk. A feverish chill just swept over my body.

  This is where we found the dead receptionist. I can still picture her lying facedown on the floor, legs splayed at an awkward angle. I can’t help but wonder if our fate will be similar. No human is a match for the bots.

  The silence is deafening as we walk deeper into BlumBot. I have the sense that I’m walking through a gravesite that’s been violently disturbed. All these people were just going about their day when they were ruthlessly murdered by their company’s creations.

  We keep walking toward the back offices until I hear the sound of voices. They come to me slowly — almost like a dream — and for half a second, I wonder if I’m imagining them. The voice I hear has a smug, silky timbre, whereas Jonah always speaks in low, sure rumbles.

  It must belong to Mordecai.

  Every inch of skin on my body suddenly feels electrified. All of my hairs are standing on end, waiting for the slightest hint of movement. I feel a prickle on the back of my neck — this sense that we are not alone.

  I turn around to look at Jared, who seems to have blanched beneath his flush. He’s holding two circuit stunners with a queasy expression. At least one of us came prepared.

  I take a deep breath and turn the door handle, moving as quietly as I can. My heart hammers. This is it. Time to face the man who’s killed hundreds.

  I throw the door open so it bangs off the wall, and instantly my eyes lock on Jade. She’s got this look of dread in her deep brown eyes, and I instantly know something is wrong.

  I glance around the rest of them, taking in everything in one fell swoop. There’s a bot standing beside the desk and bots flanking either side of the door. I see Mordecai, a drinks cart, and a hunched figure in the foreground.

  Then Jonah turns and meets my gaze. Something inside me screams.

  It’s not the joy of seeing him alive — it’s a scream of desperation. Jonah’s expression is laced with agony, and somehow I know we’re too late.

  “Ms. Barnes,” says Mordecai in that disgusting smooth voice. He doesn’t look surprised to see me at all. “How very nice of you to join us.”

  My eyes dart around the room, searching to understand. My brain registers the glass in Jonah’s hand, but something about this setup doesn’t make sense. It’s as though they were toasting with Mordecai.

  For several seconds, nobody moves — not Jonah, not even the bots. Mordecai looks unconcerned.

  “We were just discussing the sin of pride,” he says. “And the danger of showing your hand.”

  I force myself to look at him — into eyes like two dark pits. His smile is brimming with evil delight. The man is a bottomless hole of suffering.

  Just then, Jonah moves. His whole body convulses in what looks like a hiccup, and the liquid in his glass sloshes over the rim. It drips down the crystal and his white-knuckled hand, and alarm bells go off in my head.

  “That was fast,” Mordecai muses. “I must say that I’m impressed.”

  I don’t have time to process what he means. A second later, the glass slips out of Jonah’s hand, and he reaches instinctively for his stomach. He lets out a violent retch, and I leap forward to steady him.

  “What’s wrong? Are you hit?”

  But Jonah doesn’t answer.

  “What did you do?” I snarl, looking up at Mordecai.

  “I didn’t do anything,” says Mordecai calmly. “You have your friend Jade to thank for that.”

  I whip my head around to look at Jade, whose expression is a mix of shock and dread. I sense her feelings of helplessness. What the hell is going on?

  Did Jonah drink something? Why would he do that? Nothing about this makes sense.

  Suddenly Jonah keels over. His knees give out from under him, and I dive forward to grab him under the arms. Whitish foam is seeping from his mouth, and his skin is clammy to the touch.

  But Jonah is heavy, and I sink under his weight. I can only slow his descent. For the first time in a long time, I feel paralyzed — helpless. I don’t know what to do.

  “Jade?” I gasp, pleading with her to help.

  But Jade is just staring. She shakes her head, guilty and confused, and Jonah starts to convulse.

  “I’m sorry,” she croaks. “It was meant for him.”

  She’s staring at Mordecai, but this still makes no sense.

  “What was?” I scream, my insides unraveling. But the instant the words leave my mouth, I wish I could take them back. Whatever the answer — whatever the reason — it’s something I don’t want to hear.

  Jade looks up, her eyes filled with dread, and I understand what she’s done. “He’s been poisoned.”

  24

  Maggie

  The ringing in my ears is deafening. It crowds out every other sound, and my field of vision seems to narrow.

  Jared says something from somewhere above me, but all I can process is that Jonah’s been poisoned. He is foaming from the mouth and shaking uncontrollably. When his eyes roll back in his head, I just watch. I don’t know how to save him.

  Someone suggests rolling Jonah onto his side, and Jared helps me move him into a better position. He’s still convulsing, face torn in pain, and I am paralyzed by fear.

  Jonah was poisoned. Jonah was poisoned. Jade tried to kill Mordecai, and instead Jonah is dying.

  Jonah — the strongest person I know — is lying helplessly on the ground as a deadly toxin pumps through his body.

  I look up, livid, vision blurred by my tears. I see Mordecai standing there as smug as can be, staring down at a dying man.

  In that instant, all logic disappears. I don’t know what possesses me. I get to my feet, hands curled into fists, and hurl myself across the room.

  It all happens so fast that the bots don’t react immediately. I throw my body toward Mordecai, and everything slows to half speed. I shove him back as hard as I can, and his head knocks against the wall. I grit my teeth, hands on his throat, and I see his eyes bulge with fear.

  Mordecai is tall — too tall to choke. But the instant I cup my fingers around his trachea, a slice of agony rips through my scalp.

  Nonhuman fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me back with the force of a truck. My feet move without me. I can’t resist. Then I feel an arm lock around my throat.

  This is it, I think. I feel the bot going in for the kill. But before it can manage to snap my neck, the hairs on my arms stand on end. I see Jared out of the corner of my eye, stunning the bot that’s holding me captive. One minute I
feel its grip tighten; the next it’s falling away.

  I barely have a chance to draw breath before two more fly at me and Jared. The first bot goes straight for the stunner, while the other grabs my arm. I wheel around, pulling out of its grip, and manage to grab the crystal decanter.

  I smash its base against the edge of the cart and bring the broken end around. I slice the bot across the face, tearing into the silicone.

  Jared is still fighting the other bot, but then Jade dives for the stunner. I’m still slicing and stabbing like mad, hacking away at the humanoid’s skin.

  A second later, Jade stuns it, and I see Jared turning blue. The last bot has him from behind, slowly starving him of oxygen. One wrong move, and it could snap his neck. I don’t know what to do.

  It’s Jade who springs to action. She lunges for the drinks cart and fumbles under the tray. I feel a cool rush of air like a bird’s wing on my cheek as Jade releases her arm like a pitcher.

  Something silver slices through the air less than an inch from my face. It finds its home with a grunt of pain, and I feel the air leave my lungs.

  The bot strangling Jared lunges for Jade, but the damage is already done. Mordecai staggers back, blood on his coat — the handle of a dagger between his hands.

  Jared gasps, heaving for air as the color returns to his face. He stumbles forward to lift Jonah up, and I reach down to help him.

  I manage to get my shoulder wedged beneath Jonah’s armpit, but I’m too scared to look at his face. He’s pale and sweaty — barely lucid. He doesn’t seem to know where he is.

  “Stay with me,” I breathe, holding him up. I try to keep my voice steady, but I can feel myself falling apart.

  Then a bot appears, blocking my path. Its acid-green eyes flash. A bitter fear clamps down on my heart — fear for Jonah but not for myself.

  Jade pushes past me and comes in with a stunner, but the bot just knocks her back. Jade trips, reeling with pain, and I can’t do anything to help her. It’s taking everything I’ve got to keep Jonah upright, and Mordecai must have called for backup.

  Jared lunges at the bot, and Jonah’s weight falls on me. I grit my teeth and drag him forward, fighting to get him through the door.

  The hallway is long — much longer than I remember. It seems to waver like the deck of a ship. My stomach gurgles with dread and nausea. My eyes are playing tricks.

  I see Tripp sprinting toward us, but it can’t really be him. His hair is mussed. He has blood on his shirt. It’s only when he reaches me that I believe he’s real.

  “Tripp!” I cry, half-hysterical.

  “What the hell —”

  “Help them!” I cry.

  Tripp doesn’t hesitate. He charges past us into the office, and I hear a body hit the wall. There’s a yell and a human groan of pain, but I don’t stop or turn around. I have to move my feet.

  In all the turmoil, I forgot to breathe. I can feel a stabbing pain in my chest. My body is crunched under Jonah’s weight. It’s a miracle I’m still moving.

  We teeter into the reception area, and all the blood pools at my feet. Ten bots are blocking the exit, staring at me with satisfaction. My brain spasms. My body stops. I don’t know what to do.

  But then I hear footsteps coming up behind me, and a chair crashes against the wall. It came from somewhere over my shoulder, and a bot had to leap to avoid it.

  “Come on, you stupid fucks,” Tripp growls from the hall. I can hear more footsteps approaching. I hope it’s Jade and Jared. Tripp throws another chair, but it just rebounds off the bot.

  The bots move closer, forming a wall. There’s only one way through. We have to fight or we will die. There is no other option.

  Tumbling over to the couch, I drop Jonah onto the cushions. His breathing has become ragged and shallow, and I’m terrified he’s going to die. I don’t know how long his body can take it. How long can it stand a total assault?

  Jared comes stumbling into reception — shirt ripped, face sweaty, and limping in pain. He tosses me a stunner, face slack and feral. All self-preservation has flown out the window. He’s willing to fight to the death.

  Jared lets out a yell and charges a bot, but the bot catches him hard in the face. Jared flies back against the desk, blood dripping from his nose.

  The bot glides forward like a ghost, but I catch it with a stunner. It stops and collapses right where it stands, but two more bots take its place.

  One of them swings at me. I move my head, but its fist glances off my jaw. I stumble back, slightly dazed, but the other bot is waiting. It kicks me in the kneecap and takes my feet out from under me. I hit the ground with a tremor of pain.

  Agony laces up my side, and my knee is throbbing with blood. I bite back the tears welling up in my eyes just as Jade surges in.

  She clobbers the bot hard in the head, swinging around a piece of pipe. She doesn’t stop when her strike hits her target. She just whips it around to catch another.

  By now Jared has recovered and stunned the encroaching bot. Tripp tosses another office chair, and I sense things spiraling out of control.

  The remaining bots have clumped together, creating a tight formation. I can see them assessing us one by one: our style, our injuries, and our physical weaknesses.

  I’ve never seen them do that before. It sends a chill down my spine. I knew the bots could share information, but I’ve never witnessed a collective calculation.

  “Maggie!” Tripp yells, pulling me to my feet. “Get out of here! Go! You have to get out!”

  I look over to Jonah, still sprawled on the couch. His eyes are rolled back in his head.

  Every second I delay is a second closer to death. His breathing is growing more and more labored.

  I look back to Jade and Jared, who are fighting with vicious force. Chairs, pipes, trashcans, stunners — they’re using everything they’ve got.

  Deep down I know the bots will never tire. We are outmatched as a species. Jared and Jade can still escape, but if I stay here, Jonah will die.

  “Go!” yells Jared, throwing out a kick. It knocks back a bot but throws him off balance — directly into the path of another.

  I hesitate. Everything inside me is screaming to stay, but then I see an opening. The bots are all occupied with Tripp and the others. For a moment, my path is clear.

  I make a decision that feels awful in the moment. I have to get Jonah out.

  “Jonah,” I murmur, shaking his arm.

  His only reply is a moan.

  I let out a breath to release some heartache, and a few tears spring from my eyes.

  “We need to move.”

  Jonah doesn’t respond. He’s barely even breathing. There’s no way he can walk, let alone run. How will I get him out of here?

  Gathering up all the strength I have left, I pull him off the couch. I drag his weight onto my shoulder and suck in my stomach to engage my core. His weight instantly crushes my spine, but I trudge for the exit with my head bent low.

  My legs wobble and my shoulder burns, but I don’t have any choice but to move. I have to get him to Dr. Kline. I have to get him to safety.

  “Jonah,” I murmur, fighting back tears. “You have to help me.”

  Jonah shifts around on his bones, but he can’t seem to control his feet. I grit my teeth and stumble forward, using the momentum of falling.

  Beads of sweat are dripping down the sides of my face, and I think my shoulder might give out. Still, I keep moving, burning with shame. I can still hear my friends’ groans of defeat.

  The bots don’t seem to notice my leaving. They’re focused on the immediate threat. I can feel Jonah slipping off my shoulder. I can’t make it much farther.

  “Almost there,” I whisper, more to myself.

  The glass doors slide open, and we tumble into the hallway. I can feel Jonah’s mass slipping away from me, and it’s all I can do to keep him upright.

  “Hang on,” I cry, muscling through the pain. We’re out of BlumBot, but we’re still
exposed. Jonah doesn’t say a word. I feel my spine slowly compacting, and I think my lungs might collapse.

  Suddenly I can’t hold him. His arm slips through my sweaty fingers, and gravity pulls him to the floor. I try to grab him as he falls to the ground, and we both collapse on cold tile.

  Tears of failure stream from my eyes. I gasp for air that won’t come. My lungs feel completely deflated, and Jonah looks close to death.

  “Jonah?” I gasp, hiccupping for air.

  He doesn’t answer. I don’t think he’s breathing.

  I shake his shoulders to revive him, but he doesn’t even respond. I roll onto my knees and put my hands over his sternum, counting through thirty compressions.

  It’s been years since I was certified in CPR, but my body still knows what to do. Tears and snot stream down my face, but I bend over and give him two breaths.

  My body trembles as I give more compressions, and Jonah’s eyelids flutter open.

  In that instant, I let myself go. I collapse over top of him, shaking with exhaustion. Jonah’s breathing is shallow and erratic.

  I need to move him, but I can’t even stand, so I just let myself cry.

  If Jonah were awake, he’d call me pathetic. He’d yell at me for giving up. He’d say that quitting is not an option — that I have to find a way.

  Pulling myself off his chest, I wipe the snot from my nose. I need to get Jonah to Dr. Kline, who’s treating the wounded in Maverick.

  I can’t make it that far — not without help. My body is spasming with exhaustion.

  Jonah is fading. The poison is winning. I don’t think I can get up off the floor. I can’t just leave him here — not with the bots. Carrying him is my only option.

  Suddenly it hits me how absurd this is. My sergeant is lying on the ground. I’m dressed like a bot in a stupid white dress, and Jonah is half-dead. I risked everything to come back for him and put Jared in danger. Jonah isn’t allowed to die.

  “Jonah!” I say, urging him awake. I need to know he’s alive.