“It seems to be going off without a hitch,” she responded, her tone edged with surprise. “The E-VAP process is basically seamless. To be quite honest, I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“That’s great. There’s only a minute or so left, right?”
She nodded. “Exactly one minute and fourteen seconds.”
Their faces fell as footsteps echoed from outside the laboratory.
“Apparently we’re cutting it a little too close!” he whispered harshly as he scrambled to clean up his station. Footsteps of differing rhythms drew nearer and nearer. It was then he realized that there was more than one person approaching.
With panic in her eyes, Naia whirled back toward the machine. “Go faster!” she murmured, as if it weren’t an inanimate object and could hear her.
The footsteps were only seconds away.
Torin hid as much as he could in two of the drawers, moving as fast as possible while still using caution so as to not damage what he’d been working so diligently on.
Suddenly, the footsteps stopped.
He waved his hands in the air to get Naia’s attention, even though her back faced him. “They’re here!” he squawked as ran over to the IFT X4. He typed in the code, tapping his fingers against the machine until it whirred to life, then sprinted back over to his desk to continue tidying up.
The countdown on the E-VAP 800 ticked down.
3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .
Before he could even process what was happening, Naia had grabbed the cylinder and stuffed it into the back of her jeans, fluffing her lab coat around her to ensure it was hidden, then switched off the machine with a flick of her wrist. Just as she was walking over to where he was standing, the laboratory doors shot open. She whirled around, accidentally knocking the journal off the desk. Or perhaps she’d done it on purpose?
Torin considered picking it up, but as Matheson entered with his cronies, he thought better of it. He opened his mouth and let out a slight exhale to relax the muscles in his face, then, with the bottom of his shoe, slid the journal underneath the desk.
Dr. Matheson opened his arms wide as he approached the two of them. “My two converts,” he purred as he drew closer.
Torin’s eyes shifted to the faint shadow underneath Naia’s lab coat. Move, move, move.
As if she could read his thoughts, she ducked underneath the doctor’s arm and extended her hand out to the new team of technicians. “Naia Grant,” she said, giving all six of them a hearty shake. “Pleased to meet you.”
Dr. Matheson lowered his arms and looked Torin straight in the eye. He lowered his voice, then said, “If I’m being quite honest, I didn’t expect the two of you to still be here when I returned.”
Torin tried to remain expressionless, although he was wildly curious by what the doctor meant. “That’s the thing about Naia and me. Once we believe in something, we’re in it for the long haul.” He chanced a look at his partner, who appeared to be stifling a smile, then cleared his throat and returned his attention to Matheson, whose focus seemed to be on his shoes. “Why weren’t you expecting us to be here?”
The doctor lifted his gaze and shrugged. “I just figured you would have gone home by now. It’s been a long day for all of us.”
Odd. He wanted our help, so why is he so blasé about it now?
Naia seemed to sense the tension. She meandered over and grabbed Dr. Matheson’s hand. “Great to see you again, sir. As always, Torin and I are at your service.”
Matheson regarded them for a long moment. “Yes, well, I’ll need your assistance downstairs.” He ushered them toward the door, then turned around to face the technicians. “Bradley, I’m leaving it to you to show the newcomers the inner workings of the IFT X4.”
A gangly guy with jet-black hair and thick-framed glasses stepped forward from the group. “Yes, sir. I would be honored.”
“Good.” Matheson pushed his spectacles back onto the bridge of his nose as he gently pressed Torin and Naia through the door that led to the underground chamber.
“So, where’d you find all the techs?” Torin asked as he descended the stairs behind Naia. “I don’t recognize any of them.”
When he didn’t receive a response, he stopped dead in his tracks. He spun around, realizing that Matheson wasn’t behind them, then sprinted back up the staircase. He slid his hand along the edge of the door. It was sealed shut.
“Naia . . .”
But she was already halfway up the stairs, standing just a step below him. “Why isn’t he following us?” She tugged on the door. “And why is this locked?”
Torin swallowed the lump in his throat as he recalled the last few moments with Matheson, how his eyes had been on his shoes—on the ground—right where the edge of the journal lay.
He closed his eyes and ran his hand over his mouth. Then, with a steadying breath said the words he hoped weren’t true. “I think Matheson saw the journal.”
50
Emery sat on the ground in her cell, cross-legged, eyes trained on the ceiling. Fortunately, Matheson had forgotten to reactivate the soundproof barriers. Riley was whistling a familiar tune, one she recognized, but couldn’t quite put her finger on. Her father and sister were asleep, although she wasn’t sure how anyone could sleep at a time like this.
A loud slam jolted her from her thoughts. She shifted her gaze to the source of the noise and crawled to the edge of her cell. An obnoxious banging echoed throughout the chamber.
“What the hell is that?” Byron shouted.
Emery scanned the room until her eyes landed on an unnerving sight. In the entryway, behind a steel door with a glass window, was . . . Torin’s head?
He was mouthing something she couldn’t quite make out, and it’s not like she could hear anything with the relentless banging. She shook her head, hoping he could see her clearly. Suddenly, he disappeared, and Naia took his place. She looked frazzled and . . . worried. Straining her eyes, Emery desperately tried to make out what she was saying from behind the glass.
“They’re trapped,” Alexis said out of nowhere, as if it were blatantly obvious. “They were on our side all along, just like I said.”
“That can’t be right,” Riley interjected. “We all saw it with our own eyes. They’re with Matheson. They should have access to everything, including the chamber doors.”
A pit formed in Emery’s stomach. “Unless . . .”
Byron shook his head. “Oh no.”
“Something went wrong.” Emery glanced at Riley, whose expression quickly shifted from concerned to fearful. “Matheson must have found something and turned against them.”
“Well,” Alexis interrupted, “it looks to me like we’re about to find out.”
Emery returned her gaze to the steel door. Dr. Matheson now stood in front of the glass with a malicious leer on his face. He pushed both Naia and Torin through the door from the sides. They walked in front of him, their hands bound in holocuffs. It seemd as though Alexis had predicted correctly—Naia and Torin had indeed been on their side all along—but something about all of this still wasn’t sitting right.
No one uttered a word as Dr. Matheson led his two new captives to their individual cells. Naia was placed in the empty cell next to Emery, while Torin was shoved into a vacant cell on the other side of the room, far away from everyone.
“I don’t take betrayal lightly,” he hissed. “Lock cell B4,” he commanded, sneering as the system engaged. An eerie black glow appeared around the cell, almost like a force field, then faded.
“Cell B4 has been contained,” a robotic voice stated.
Matheson took off his glasses as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Then with an exasperated sigh, he said, “I had high hopes for you, Mr. Porter, but I suppose you’d rather rot in here with the rest of them.”
It was then Emery noticed the random group of people donning white lab coats that had assembled in the back of the chamber. Dr. Matheson slid his g
lasses back over his ears, straightened them, then strode toward the group. “See what happens when you betray me?” he bellowed, gesturing to the cells. “Let this be a warning to you all.”
Heads bobbed up and down, gaze after gaze landing on Emery’s cell. A chill lodged in her chest as they turned to leave, following the doctor through the steel doors.
A bout of silence stretched across the chamber.
Finally, Byron spoke up. “Please tell us you at least accomplished something while you were in the lab.”
“Can you tell us what happened?” Alexis asked. “One minute you’re up there, the next you’re down here.”
But Naia didn’t respond, only shook her head. Her eyes shifted upward, her gaze pointed at the camera. “We’re being watched,” she mumbled under her breath.
“We need to get out of here,” Riley said, her voice shaking. “You were supposed to get us out of here!”
“Everybody calm down!” Emery barked. She nodded her head in the direction of the camera. Her eyes widened as an idea came to her. In that moment, Torin’s gaze met her own. As if they could communicate telepathically, he nodded and pulled out his holophone which, thankfully, was in the front pocket of his jeans.
“What’s he doing?” Riley whispered.
Emery shook her head, trying to shush her.
“I hate being left out of things,” Alexis whined.
Emery rolled her eyes. “Just hang on.”
Everyone focused on Torin, fingers flying, working faster than anyone had ever seen.
Just when Riley and Alexis were about to pipe up again, Torin lifted his gaze and his hands, which were no longer bound by holocuffs, and tucked his phone in his back pocket. He looked directly at Emery and nodded.
Her own holocuffs were gone, as were everyone else’s. She checked for the blinking red light on the camera. It wasn’t there. “Okay,” she said with a grin, “now we can talk.”
51
Byron’s eyes flitted back and forth between Emery and Torin. Their chemistry was palpable and almost reminded him of his wife . . . late wife. Although some time had passed, his stomach still turned every time he thought of Sandra and how quickly she’d been taken from them. A true misfortune.
His trip down memory lane was interrupted as Riley asked, “What just happened?” to which Alexis surprisingly responded, “Torin disabled the camera.”
Ah, yes. The hacker. That’s why Byron had hired him to begin with. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Well done, Porter. I’m actually a little ashamed I didn’t think of that myself.”
“How do we really know the camera’s off? And that there’s no back-up?” Riley interrogated. Clearly she was trying to play devil’s advocate.
Before Emery and Torin could answer, Byron said, “I’m certain it’s off. The red light isn’t blinking and the lens is covered.” He gestured toward the camera, smiling as each of their gazes turned in that direction. “There is no back-up—I would know, I run the place.” He shot a knowing look at Riley, then directed his attention to his two employees. “I think we should start with the two of you first.”
Torin shifted uncomfortably; Naia, on the other hand, stood firm. She gave Byron a crooked smile as she reached behind her, her hand going underneath her lab coat. “I think you’ll be quite pleased.”
Byron watched as she pulled out a cylindrical silver tube. “Please tell me that’s what I think it is.”
She nodded. “Yep.”
“You transformed the original sanaré from liquid form to gas form,” he said in amazement. “Using the—”
“—E-VAP 800. Precisely,” she finished.
Byron knew he should keep any noise to a minimum, especially with what was lurking just outside the walls, but he couldn’t help himself.
“So, that’s what you were sketching in your journal. A capsulated gas form of sanaré.” Emery’s hand flew to her head. “I should have known,” she said with a small laugh. “You’re always one step ahead.”
Torin smiled, but the expression quickly fell from his face. “I did make a mistake though. I accidentally left the journal upstairs. I think Matheson saw it . . .”
“Which is why we’re in here, with all of you,” Naia finished.
A collective sigh left the group.
“No need to panic just yet. I think . . .” Torin’s voice trailed off as the lights began to flicker.
All eyes turned to the holovision as a red banner with giant letters snaked its way across the screen.
TORNADO WARNING.
Byron gazed around his cell as the white gelled walls also began to flicker in and out of view. Even though they were underground, he made his way to the middle of his cell, throwing his arms overhead and dropping to his knees. His eyes met Emery’s as she did the exact same thing. “Get down!” he shouted.
No one questioned his direction; they simply dropped to their knees and took cover.
As he sat there, curled up in the fetal position, a memory floated through his mind. His girls had been quite young when they’d experienced their first wrath of Mother Nature. A tornado had hit the neighborhood next to theirs. Instead of panicking, his daughters had watched with curiosity as the destructible winds ripped the roofs off of their neighbors’ houses and tore up white picket fences. He’d taken them into the basement, telling them to hide under a nearby desk and protect their heads with their arms. Once they’d realized what was happening, the panic had settled in, and they’d screamed and cried for the tornado to stop. But Byron had always been amazed at the calm demeanor of his daughters as they witnessed Mother Nature doing Her worst for the very first time. Emery had the same look on her face now as she did when she was a little girl. So did Alexis.
A fierce howling sounded as sparks erupted around each of their cells.
“What the hell is this?” Dr. Matheson shouted as he rushed back into the underground chamber. His fingers started flying uncontrollably on the control panel. He stopped and stared at Byron, a frenized look in his eyes. Even though he’d just arrived, he made for the stairs again.
“It’s a tornado!” Byron shouted after him. “Stay underground!” But it was too late. Dr. Matheson was already halfway up the stairs.
The pressure in the room changed, causing him and the others to press their hands against their ears. He opened and closed his mouth as rapidly as he could, motioning for the others to mimic the movement. The howling continued and he could hear everyone screaming in pain at the uncomfortable change in pressure. The noise continued for another three minutes until it finally stopped.
The room fell dark.
Realizing that the gel walls had been deactivated, Byron stepped out of his cell, searching his pockets for a light source. Although he came up short, he noticed a shining ring of light from across the way. As he ran over to the beam, he realized it was Torin’s holowatch.
“Is everyone okay?” Byron called out as Emery, Naia, Riley, and Alexis joined them.
“What the hell was that?” Naia asked.
“That,” Emery said as she smoothed her hair down, “was an F-3 or F-4 tornado.”
“I’m leaning more toward an F-4,” Byron said as he ran a hand through his hair.
Naia and Torin stared at him blankly.
Alexis surveyed the group before asking, “Where do you think Matheson ran off to?” Her pupils were so dilated in the dim light that she almost looked possessed.
Byron scanned the room before answering. “Probably to check on the inventory.”
At this, Emery’s ears perked up. “Which is . . . where?”
“We definitely would have been better off, had it been underground, but Matheson won’t be so lucky.” The group looked at him with confused expressions as he led them up the stairwell back into the laboratory, careful to avoid any fallen debris along the way. When they made it to the main floor, every single jaw dropped.
The sight was astounding.
The roof had been torn off the building, and the interior had been gutted like a deer carcass. Matheson and his cronies were nowhere to be found. Across the way, Byron could make out what remained of the vault door. The duplicate syringes lay all over the floor, orange goo splattered everywhere. The walls to the lab had been ripped away, just like the roof. The only thing that remained was the floor they stood upon . . . and an open journal, its pages fluttering in the breeze.
Torin ran over to it and picked it up. “I can’t believe it. The journal withstood the storm.”
“Looks like Mother Nature’s on our side after all,” Byron said as he patted his daughter on the shoulder.
“Yeah,” Emery said as she gazed at the desolate scene before her. “If only it hadn’t come to this.”
“Do you think Matheson escaped?” Alexis asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“That I don’t know,” Byron said slowly, “but what I do know is that we don’t have any time to waste.”
52
Emery followed Torin out of what was left of 7S Headquarters, hopping over broken glass and crushed tile every couple of steps. She’d just about caught up with him when he suddenly took off down the street. She started to run to catch up to him, but stopped as the city fully came into view. Her hand flew over her mouth.
Buildings ripped apart, windows shattered, oblong structures of towers that once were. It was heartbreaking. It crossed her mind that Torin’s apartment, even with all of its gadgets and technology, may not have weathered the storm. That must be where he’s running of to in such a hurry.
She turned over her shoulder and yelled for the others to pick up the pace. Riley, Alexis, Naia, and Byron sped up and followed her down the same street Torin had disappeared down. Finally, after running as fast as she possibly could, he came into view. Her gaze shifted to the left, but landed on . . .
Restitution (The Alpha Drive Book 3) Page 19
