Fate of Perfection (Finding Paradise Book 1)

by K. F. Breene

  Millicent covered Marie’s eyes as she turned away, trying to ignore the queasy feeling threatening to empty her stomach. A moan preceded Mr. McAllister’s head rolling to the side.

  “Nothing appears to be broken.” Ryker straightened up slowly, wincing. “Millie, can you get him to wake up? I’ll take Marie out of the craft. Someone’ll show up to investigate shortly.”

  Millicent waited for Ryker and Marie to leave before she powered into action. Instead of immediately bending over Mr. McAllister, someone who wasn’t totally on their side yet, she gathered up all the tech she could find. Everything she knew would help them. Thankfully, the medical bag was intact, but a few things she’d wanted to try were squashed. Once she had everything gathered in a bag, she gave her attention to Mr. McAllister.

  “C’mon, get up.” She lightly shook his shoulder, looking over his wounds. He did still have some glass stuck in him, but it wasn’t much, and most of the wounds were shallow. He didn’t have any scores through his flesh like Ryker did, probably because he had been low enough. Ryker was a large man, and he’d been braced over her and Marie. He’d put himself at a disadvantage to keep them safe. “C’mon.” She shook him again.

  “Hmmm.” Mr. McAllister’s face screwed up in pain. “Owwww.” His hands came up slowly as a siren echoed through the walls.

  “We gotta go,” Ryker yelled in. “Looks like we’re in some sort of warehouse.”

  “C’mon, Mr. McAllister, we have to go.” She shook him again.

  “Ow.” Mr. McAllister’s eyes blinked open. He rolled to his side, wincing.

  “What hurts? Can you move?”

  “Everything hurts. These days, everything always hurts.” He patted himself down. When he got to his hip, he winced. “That hurts.”

  She felt down his side, pausing when she reached his hip. He winced again. “How bad?” she asked.

  “Apparently not bad enough to make me miss Clarity.” He pushed her hand away. “I don’t think it’s broken.”

  “Can you get up?”

  “What’s the alternative?”

  “I fry your implant and leave you behind. You’ll finally get to go home.”

  “C’mon, Millicent,” Ryker yelled in. “Someone just peeked around the corner. Staffers will let their curiosity overcome them any moment now.”

  Millicent had to wonder why staffers weren’t there already. The crash would’ve shaken half the building. The fact that this place wasn’t swarmed with security was . . . unnerving. They couldn’t be this lucky.

  Mr. McAllister sighed and stared at the ceiling. She could tell he was thinking it over. Finally, he rolled back over and slowly brought his feet under him. “As much as going home appeals to me, Marie still needs me. I’ll see it through until she’s safe.”

  Millicent nodded, not commenting. “Then let’s go.”

  Ryker stood with Marie, straight and tall as always; the only indication that he was in pain was the tightness around his eyes. In contrast, Mr. McAllister hobbled out like an old man with a twisted spine. He moaned and grunted, half dragging the leg affected by the hurt hip.

  “You doing okay, Trent?” Ryker asked, his eyes glimmering with humor.

  “Do I look okay?” he muttered, holding his side and straightening up with a series of winces. “I was bred to make people hard to kill, not to be one of them.”

  “You’re right as rain. Just like all of us.” Ryker’s face cleared of mirth. “Let’s get going. Millie, we need a path out of here. Our guide is indisposed.”

  “What, did he run?” Mr. McAllister glanced behind him as Millicent looked around.

  “Ran straight to hell, yeah. Quick like. If we don’t hurry, we’ll meet him there.”

  Mr. McAllister grabbed his stomach. He gagged into the air.

  “C’mon, bub, it isn’t that bad. At least he doesn’t have to live with the pain.”

  Mr. McAllister gagged again, making a retching sound as he did so. Millicent knew how he felt. She hadn’t looked into the cockpit for a reason.

  Around them, metal racks were bent and twisted in the craft’s wake. What once had been shelves was now garbage. The rest of the large hollow space, however, did have shelves intact. Little orbs, or long pieces, made of a sleek-looking metal covered the shelves, but what they were exactly for, she couldn’t say.

  “Grab one or two of those pieces,” she called out to the boys. “Try to get one of each size.”

  “Are you serious?” Mr. McAllister asked, looking around with eyes wide in disbelief. “There are sirens and people after us, and you want me—”

  “Do as she says,” Ryker cut in.

  “If we’d stumbled into a breeding lab, you’d want a look,” Millicent said, accessing a screen. Then she swore. It wanted a code to log in without a way to bypass, which wasn’t uncommon, but being in a different conglomerate, she didn’t have any false personas to easily get around this. It wouldn’t even let her access the staffer net as a guest, which was uncommon. “Toton isn’t just tight with security for outsiders, they’re pretty tight with their loop as well.”

  “These things . . . are just blobs.” Mr. McAllister turned one of the items over in his hands. “It doesn’t have any power or anything. It doesn’t respond in any way.”

  “You have the wrong implant for it, I’d bet,” Ryker said. “We have no idea how they do things in this conglomerate.”

  Ryker had that right.

  Lights flickered at the hole in the side of the building. The sound of sirens bounced off the walls. She shook her head. “I can’t log in from here. There’s limited access. I’m a genius, but I’m not a miracle-maker.”

  “Well, don’t pray to Rossonoman,” Ryker said, moving farther into the warehouse. “That god didn’t do our driver any favors.”

  “Callous,” Mr. McAllister said.

  “I’m callous? You’re the one who breeds and kills like the god that guy was praying to. Are you above mankind, Mr. McAllister? Because you certainly act like it.”

  Mr. McAllister’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and his expression wiped clear. Millicent didn’t blame him for being nervous. She wouldn’t press Ryker when he was in this kind of mood, either.

  “What is your plan?” she asked as she fell in line, fingering the crimson making a trail over his butt. “And will you bleed out?”

  “I’m not wounded enough to bleed out. This is just a flesh wound.” Ryker reached a doorway and stepped up to a viewing window beside it. He pointed to the door. “Help us out?”

  “So our plan is to ask the help of complete strangers who witnessed bandits crashing into their workroom and hope they don’t tattle on us?” Millicent asked in a flat tone.

  “Yes. Human beings are inherently good when someone is in need. You just have to ask for help. Otherwise they’ll stand around gawking, waiting for someone else to do something. Doesn’t hurt that we’re in a lower level. People here aren’t much better than worker drones a lot of the time. They don’t question orders, and it usually doesn’t matter who the orders come from.”

  “You act like you know from experience.” The door clicked before sliding open. Millicent’s eyes went to the guide rails before noticing the small, sleek controller beside it. A retinal scan was present, of course—a little black telltale orb—but there was also a finger scan and one she could not identify. As one of the staffers stepped through, all three lit up green.

  “What floor are we on?” she asked quietly as Ryker stepped forward to greet the female staffer with a smile.

  “Thirties? Forties?” Mr. McAllister shuffled closer.

  “Hello there.”

  Millicent glanced up at the change in Ryker’s tone. The deep bass thrummed from his chest, and when the words came out, they were wrapped in extra velvet. His voice fell on the ears in a smooth and very masculine way, riveting. She wanted to stare at his handsome face until drool slid out the side of her mouth.

  The woman must’ve thought so, too, because her mouth curled i
nto a dreamy sort of smile.

  “I need to learn that trick,” Millicent muttered.

  “He’s had a lot more practice,” Mr. McAllister said. “He had all the women at the lab wrapped around his little finger. They’d literally follow him around. I slipped a few of them Clarity. I’m not kidding. I had to. He distracted the whole place.”

  Millicent rolled her eyes, remembering her own failed attempt at flirting with a lab staffer. She watched Ryker’s body language as he spoke with the woman. He made up some sob story about trying to get the little staffer to her permanent home in level-two housing, but it wasn’t the story that mattered. It was his suggestive lean and the tone he used. It was his random flexing and the way his eyes implied a sort of intimacy and the nudity that would follow.

  This all changed in an instant when a male staffer stepped into the doorway. Suddenly Ryker’s voice switched from liquid fire to immovable muscle, brawny and tough. His words went from soft and deep to curt and deeper, a command riding each word. A born leader who wouldn’t take any crap. A guy about to kill something.

  Millicent was just about to tell him to focus on the girl, who was lapping up his charm like a starved man would a tube of gruel, but amazingly, the woman’s eyes were now shining with lust, heat infusing her gaze to the point of embarrassment. She liked his controlling qualities even more than the soft approach.

  “I don’t understand people,” she said in an undertone. “I’ll just stick with threatening people and let him do the manipulation.”

  “All you have to do is smile, cupcake, and all the boys will come running.” Ryker turned back with a wink. It didn’t hide a lingering tightness in his eyes. They needed to get him fixed up. “We got a ride out. We just have to make it to their bay. Sounds easier than it probably will be.”

  A look back said there were already vessels hovering at the hole in the building, probably trying to determine the best course of action. It still seemed odd that a huge crash had only brought two staffers from within the department level. Warehouses typically held fewer staff, Millicent assumed, but this seemed minimal.

  As Millicent passed through the door, each light turned red except for one. That one, the retinal scan, blinked yellow. Thankfully, no alarm sounded.

  “We don’t have much time,” Millicent warned, following the others into another room filled with rows of shelving. “Did you hide those . . . things you got?” she whispered to Mr. McAllister, who was right behind her.

  “Oh Hedona,” the girl cried out as she caught sight of Ryker’s back. “Look at you. You must be hurt.”

  “Take us back to your place. Maybe I’ll let you fix me up.” He smiled at her. The girl would have no idea he was placating her.

  “Oh please.” Millicent rolled her eyes and shoved the woman on. “We don’t have time for your antics, Ryker. Keep moving.”

  They reached another security corridor. Two more red lights and another blinking yellow. This time, though, the door issued a soft click. Nothing else happened.

  What did a sophisticated clicking door mean?

  “I don’t like this,” Millicent said, feeling uncertainty pinch her gut. Her smile dwindled. Her mind was starting to get foggy, too. She was coming down off the drug, fatigue trying to steal away whatever sort of focus she might have.

  “This way,” the woman said. She walked through the smart door and into a strangely sterile corridor. Inside, the walls and ceiling looked like they were covered in padded white tile. The floor was cream, the same color as the walls. The door clicked again as Millicent passed through.

  “No, Mama!” Marie screamed.

  A rough hand clutched her hair and yanked. Millicent fell back right before the door slid shut with a soft clunk. Her teeth clattered as her butt hit ground. Ryker winced and went rigid; yanking her back had apparently played hell on his wounds. Marie rushed forward, grabbing her around the neck.

  “What’s the matter—” Screaming, muffled through the door, cut Millicent off.

  Pounding beat on the door from the inside. The screaming rose in pitch, pushing Millicent’s breath out in fast pants as she identified the primal agony inherent in that sound.

  The male staffer stepped up to the door quickly. “Pauline?” His hands flattened against the surface. “Pauline?”

  “What’s happening?” Millicent asked, standing. Shaken.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen this happen. Heard about it, but . . . Pauline!”

  An intense howl that had Millicent shivering ended in horrible silence, the screaming cut off abruptly. Millicent’s heart beat through her ears.

  The man banged on the door. “Pauline? Can you hear me? Pauline!”

  Three clicks, like a complicated lock disengaging, made the man take two steps back, staring down at the handle of the door. He pushed it down. Nothing happened.

  Millicent put her hand on the man’s shoulder. “What level are you?”

  He shook his head, still staring at the handle.

  “We’re way down in the towers,” she tried again. “But you seem to have some futuristic tech here. What is your level? What is this place?”

  “It’s just storage.” He slowly shook his head. “Just storage. I’m . . . I’m lab born. One click below the Curve in most things. I just monitor. I . . .”

  The door slid open. Ryker’s hand landed on her shoulder before a cold shiver of fear flash-froze her blood.

  The corridor was completely empty.

  No blood.

  Not even a trace.

  Another door, on the far side, slid open.

  The corridor had sealed in the girl. But her body was gone. The cream material, which should’ve been soaked in blood, was pristine.

  “What the hell are you people making in your labs . . . ,” Millicent whispered.

  Suddenly she didn’t feel like the biggest monster on the planet. Toton had seemed like a company in jeopardy, but in reality it was a company lying in wait.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Ryker said, pulling Marie away from the door.

  “Is there a way out of here without going through one of these smart doors?” Millicent asked the man, whose face had gone completely white. He was staring into the room with unfocused eyes. “Hey!” Millicent slapped him across the face.

  The man blinked slowly, an effort that wasn’t synchronized. “Just one. Through the old service door. We were supposed to install the Vera-Tech corridor through there, too, but they sent the wrong configuration of parts. We’re still waiting on one of the . . . cleaning mechanisms.” His eyes slid back to where his friend had disappeared.

  “Let’s head that way,” Millicent urged, leaving her hand on his shoulder. “Do you have a craft?”

  “I . . . I take the company craft. I can’t afford my own.”

  “Okay. Well, we’ll figure it out.” Millicent gave him a small shove. “C’mon. Let’s head that way.”

  “Do you know what kind of door that was, Marie?” Mr. McAllister asked with a shaking voice.

  The little girl clutched Bunny tightly, tears streaming down her face. She shook her head.

  “Do you know how to open it?” he prompted, taking her hand.

  She shook her head, her brow furrowing. “Lock. Too lock.”

  “It locks, so it can’t be opened?” Mr. McAllister cleared his throat, but it didn’t do much to stop his shaking limbs. Millicent knew exactly how he felt.

  Marie shrugged, and then looked back.

  Behind them, they faintly heard a door click.

  Chapter 21

  “Through here—” The man jogged, his voice harried.

  “What had you heard about those doors?” Millicent asked, trying to ignore the labored breathing coming from Ryker as they ran down an aisle of silver orbs. He needed help, and soon.

  “Just that . . . I heard that someone—a guy—was visiting one of his lady friends in her department. He didn’t have clearance for it, but the entranceway let him in, so whatever, right? If i
t lets you in, you’re usually fine. But when they were on their way to lunch, one of those doors locked them in a corridor. Everyone said they heard all this screaming, and . . .” He staggered and bumped off the stack. An orb bumped into another with a strange bell-like sound, not the metallic clink she would expect from that substance hitting together. “But they weren’t in there when the doors opened. Nothing was . . . Nothing was left behind. I didn’t believe it. Because . . . But . . .”

  “It isn’t a weapon, while being a weapon,” Millicent said to herself, chewing her lip. She wanted to access a console in this place so bad her palms itched. “Do you have anyone in this conglomerate who is more than three clicks above the Curve?”

  Breathing hard, the man turned a corner and abruptly stopped. He waved his hand, forcing everyone back. A woman was bustling by, scratching her head and muttering to herself.

  “I don’t want to explain you all. Or what happened,” the man said. “Everyone will . . . I just don’t want to explain.”

  “No worries,” Millicent said as she watched the woman pass through a smart door. All three lights turned green. No click sounded. “Are there usually more people through here?”

  “No. Our job is to keep it tidy. Keep an eye on things. C’mon.” He waved them on.

  “Are you in the security department?” Ryker asked with a thick voice. His ability to ignore pain was going up in flames. Another indication he was badly hurt.

  “Me? No.” The man opened a door the old-fashioned way, by turning a knob and then pushing it open. This was the type of door she’d expected so close to ground level. It went with the level of the employee and the horrible condition of the air.