Thompson picked up two of the artifacts. One shimmered, weird mirage-like waves dancing over it.
“This is one, isn’t it?” Thompson asked, lifting the ceramic bowl an inch before setting it down on a counter. “I’ll need the artifact later. Thank you for pointing it out.”
What the hell was going on?
Thompson snapped his fingers. Valerie and Georgie tightened their grip on my arms.
“The problem was you Atlanteans kept finding our homeland, so Lemuria had to keep moving,” Thompson said. “My ancestors left our old home-time, but the Atlanteans kept searching, amazed and terrified of what Lemurian power could do. But Atlanteans didn’t always have the right tools, and they certainly never had the Waterstar map. The Atlanteans didn’t even know the map existed until they made super soldiers like you.”
“You need me for a freaking map?” I hissed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Thompson sneered. “It’s more complicated than that, but, essentially, yes. Super soldiers had access to the map while the rest of the Atlanteans did not. It’s imprinted on their minds. My ancestors’ natural-given power is why the Atlanteans resorted to genetic engineering in the first place, to give their people enough power to fight us. The ability to see the map was an added bonus.” He jabbed a finger into my sternum. “The Atlanteans had to make your kind to battle our natural abilities. To travel through time, chasing us, because you Atlanteans are never satisfied.”
“Are?” Like they still existed in present day?
Thompson unzipped the top of my uniform, and Valerie moved the straps of my black tank top and bra down my arm with shaky fingers. I tried to meet her eyes but couldn’t. She’d made a point to look directly over my shoulder at the wall. Thompson folded his fire-hand so the flames took on the form of a pencil—the most ridiculous and terrifying writing instrument I’d ever seen.
“When Atlantean super soldiers or other citizens breached their security measures and got onto their land, they let them go. Want to know why?” he said.
“Why ask if you’re going to tell me anyway?” Not good. Berating him and being snarky would get me nowhere. Not when he brandished his powers right in front of me. Not when every impulse told me to run. My instincts wanted me gone from this room, away from this guy who could control fire. They wanted me away. So far away.
My entire body shook with fear and despair. Tears stung my eyes. Michael was dead, and I’d soon follow him—both of our murders my fault.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears. The pull of my teleportation power was there, waiting for me on the other side of this wall. But I couldn’t reach it. We stood too far away from each other, with too many obstacles in between. Thompson. Valerie. Their powers. My lack thereof.
The very moment Thompson inched toward my skin with the fire pencil, I screamed for the first time since this hijacking started. I screamed so loud the entire station probably heard me as fire seared through my flesh and muscle, blazing a path across my skin. I never imagined being burned with fire could hurt this bad. It couldn’t hurt this bad. Not normally. No way.
The smell of burning flesh made the piercing pain unbearable. I screamed until my throat shredded and my knees gave out. Thompson slipped up on his drawing, the pencil digging a jagged, unintended line.
How could Valerie stand there? How could she let this happen, to Michael, to me? Even if she hated me, even if she hated Atlanteans for what happened to Abby, how could she do this?
“The Lemurians let the Atlanteans go because they needed to send the rest of Atlantis a message,” Thompson said.
I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. No sound came out of my mouth. My body clenched up, taking the pain and sending it everywhere all at once. Trying to mitigate. Attempting to stay out of the blackness. I couldn’t decide what hurt the most anymore. Heat registered in my mind, immense heat burning through the core of everything I was. Skin and bone. Atlantean. Super solider. Human. Just human.
“That message was this brand,” he said. “A seal to keep you under control.”
The intense burning stopped, leaving an aching heat coursing through every inch of me. Valerie and Georgie hauled me up, holding me in a vice grip even though I couldn’t move right now if I tried.
Thompson put his lips next to my ear. “This station is ours. My employers require the artifacts be delivered to them, so we can bridge the time-gap to Atlantis and eradicate your kind. It’d be best if you don’t fight this.”
“So, kill me,” I mumbled through a groan. “Kill me so this ends.”
“We need you alive. That seal should keep you in check until we arrive in port.”
The gap between me and my teleportation power grew further apart, widening like a chasm into the earth. My strength, weaker. “Screw… you…”
The last thing my mind registered was fire flying at my face.
Trevor
hey locked me in my quarters when Thompson deemed the station safe enough for now. I spent an hour pacing between my door and bed, going over everything that’d gone wrong so many times. Everything blurred together. This had to be a dream.
My aching ribs testified for reality.
A clicking drew my eyes to the door to my quarters. The door shouldn’t make that sound. Didn’t make that sound. Unless—
The door swung open and Freddy entered in quick, direct movements. He spun and locked us inside. The gash above his eyebrow had stopped bleeding, but it looked terrible. A new shiner mirrored the gash on his other eye, which was puffy and in the process of closing.
“What happened to you?” I asked him.
“It’s not about what happened to me,” he said. “There’s been a casualty. Weyland wants to move ASAP. I told him to hold off for another hour.”
Oh god. A thousand weights sunk onto me. Here it came. Official confirmation. “Who?”
“Michael.”
I stumbled backward, like his name alone was a physical blow. I collapsed into my desk chair, unable to breathe. This was my fault. All of it.
“I’m sorry, Trevor, but we don’t have time for mourning. Weyland’s moving soon. He wanted you to have this.” He pulled a gun out of his waistband and held it out to me, tapping a small knob on the side with his thumb. “Safety’s here. Flick it off, point and shoot. Just in case.”
I swallowed hard. Shooting guns was not what I’d signed up for when I’d agreed to work for the Navy. I hadn’t signed up for any of this. I should never have come back. And when I had, I never should’ve tried to protect this station alone. I should have taken Dr. Hill’s offer and left with Chelsea for TAO.
Freddy left without another word. I slipped the gun into the front waistband of my pants. I doubted I’d use it, but it ushered a blanket of safety over me. At least I had a weapon.
I backed up to the edge of my bed and sank into it. Something poked out from beneath my pillow. I dug underneath and my fingers brushed a cylindrical object, a note rubber-banded to the outside. I pulled the object out, slid off the paper, and read the cursive script.
You know what to do. Help Chelsea.
For Abby. —V
I held up the bottle and read the label. Some type of topical medicine for third-degree burns.
“Third degree?” What the hell did they do to Chelsea? And more importantly, why was Valerie helping me sort it out?
Sneaking over to Valerie and Chelsea’s quarters was way too easy. For one, Freddy had left the door ajar, so all I’d had to do was wait until no one was outside. A few vents later had found me outside their door. Except the door to Chelsea’s room was warped.
What the hell? I touched the metal gently. The hinges had been melted and the window kicked out. Valerie. My heart in my throat, I peered into the small window on the door. No one was inside. That couldn’t be right. I pried the casing off the card reader and punched in an override code. It blinked green, but the door didn’t budge.
I tried it again. Nothing. Great. Valerie had freaking destroyed the
frame, too.
An air vent opening was inlaid on the wall a few paces away. I crawled into it, weaving through a maze, grunting through the pain in my chest, until I perched at an opening above Valerie’s bed. I kicked the cover hard and it clanked to the floor. Chelsea didn’t even startle. Where was she?
I jumped down. She’d turned the lights down low, and everything was impeccably neat. No clutter, beds made, not a speck of dust to be seen.
She’s keeping busy.
Light peeked from under the bottom of the bathroom door. Water ran from the faucet on the other side, the only sound in the room.
I approached the door with slow steps and knocked lightly.
“Go away.” Her voice was so soft, so defeated; the door almost blocked the noise completely.
“Chelsea, it’s me. Open up.”
She snorted. “Screw off.”
“I have something you need. It’s from Helen.” She didn’t need to know the truth—that the medicine came from the same person responsible for the station being hijacked.
She turned the faucet off and opened the door. The bags under her eyes had deepened since the last time I saw her.
“What do you want?” she asked.
I stepped toward her. “I have something for you.”
She backed away, lips twisting into a scowl. “Stay away from me.”
“Helen said to give you this.” Another step.
She responded in kind, bumping into her sink. She held out her hand. “Hand it over and leave.”
“What happened?”
She rolled her eyes and snatched the medicine tube. She winced as her arm swung and cradled it to her chest. “Shit.”
My eyes narrowed. “What did he do to you?”
Chelsea crossed her arms at her chest. “Nothing. Go away. How do you even know something happened, anyway?”
“Helen saw it with her powers.” Another lie.
I grabbed her left wrist and jerked it aside. She shot a hand up to cover it, but hit too hard and she cursed. I moved her fingers out of the way and revealed what she wanted to hide: a large, white bandage.
“I’m not trying to hurt you,” I said.
“My ass,” she spat. “First you and Valerie work with them, then they send you in here like some kind of medicine-delivering Trojan horse.”
“I’m not working for them.”
She laughed once, harsh and disbelieving. “Please. Valerie told me everything. You two have always had some sort of thing, and I knew it. I fucking knew it. Helen’s in on it, too. I fell for it, for the dream of Atlantis. Then you let them do this to me,” she pointed at her bandage. “I can’t believe I ever trusted you. How much of this, of us, was ever real?”
Her implication that I used her as nothing more than a tool snapped something taut inside me. My jaw twitched. “Will you calm the hell down for one second?”
She flinched. Three seconds of mixed anger and sorrow washed over her face before she reeled back her left hand. It crushed my cheek. My head rang and warmth seared my skin straight to the bone.
“Your lies killed Michael. Almost killed everyone onboard,” she said. Her words pushed a serrated knife through me with every whispered syllable. “How long have you known they’d come? How long have you been planning this?”
I had no words. No response to the girl I loved accusing me of planning the hijacking, the loss, of everything I held close.
“You’re one stupid son of a bitch.” Her voice was venomous. Sharp as steel. “As soon as we’re rescued, I hope Captain Marks throws you in jail to rot where you belong.”
“Chelsea, no.”
Her words shattered me, and any strength I had left, sent my entire being through a grinder. Every part of me hurt. She really did believe I was working with Thompson, that I’d worked with him and Valerie to endanger and capture the very thing I’d fought for the last two years to protect. She thought I’d betrayed her, and that hurt most of all. All I’d wanted from the beginning was to help her, to be there for her. To keep her and SeaSatellite5 safe.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. I held her glare. Let it rip me to shreds.
I needed to see. I needed to know what they’d done—what I’d done—to her.
I reached out too quickly for her to deflect, got my fingers around the bandage, and tore it off. Chelsea yelped and shoved me away. My back slammed into the corner of the doorframe, but before she could cover it up, I caught a glimpse of the damage. Her skin had changed colors, fried. Inflammation marked her from above her low-cut tank top almost to her neck. She’d been burned. Badly. Also very carefully. The area surrounding the marking was angry though not destroyed.
My gaze zeroed in on the brand—and bile shot straight from my stomach into my mouth. Thompson had burned the logo for my mother’s company onto Chelsea’s skin. It was the same design of the tattoo on the guy who’d attacked her months ago. I brought my hand to my mouth, my knuckles resting under my nose as I gagged.
“Yeah, I know it’s gross,” Chelsea mumbled. “It’s looking a lot better now than before. I think I broke another record for number of powers in Helen’s stupid research.” She waved her hands around. “Yippie, I’m fast-healing.”
I stepped forward, took the tube from her, and opened it. She tried to take the medicine back, but I held it out of her reach.
“Let me help you,” I said. “Please.”
“Why? You hate me.”
“I—” Was she serious? “Why would I hate you?”
“That’s the only reason I can think of for you stringing me along. I interrupted something the night we met. That’s why you were there. You weren’t running from your family, you were doing their bidding.”
“That’s not what happened.” Who’d fed her these lies?
Her fists clenched at her sides. “I know what I saw.”
No, she didn’t.
“The situation got messed up. They played us. Valerie played us. Dammit, Chelsea.” My fingers tightened around the medicine tube. “I’d do anything to save you, to get you as far away from this station as possible right now, but I can’t. I don’t have powers; I can’t teleport. I’m me, Trevor. That’s it. Just like the night you were mugged, the most I can do is attempt to tackle the bad guys, but I would lay down my life to save you, Chelsea. I love you.”
It sounded like pleading to my ears, and maybe it was, but every word rang true. I needed to her listen to me, and if it meant baring my soul, then here my soul was for viewing.
“You’ve been everything to me from the moment you saw me in the Franklin,” I continued. “You gave me sanity when I thought I’d lost mine, gave me a reason to continue fighting. I could have run. I wanted to run. But I didn’t because I wanted to save you. Protect you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Chelsea. For you to be safe, and to be with you, because you’re everything to me.”
She didn’t respond for so many long moments that I didn’t think she would at all.
“I love you,” I said again. “Please, let me help you. I lied, yeah, and I’m so, so sorry. But I’m not the enemy.”
Her lips pursed as she looked at me, her eyes reaching somewhere deep. She stared down my soul, and my soul was too hurt from battle to look away.
Tears welled up in her eyes and threatened to spill over. “I already did let you help me, once. Look where that got me.”
“Chelsea, please.” My fingers sought hers, and I was surprised when she let me take them. “I shouldn’t have lied, but I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t…” None of this was supposed to happen.
I swallowed. My eyesight blurred. “I didn’t want to accept you were Atlantean,” I continued, “or what that meant for me. For SeaSatellite5. Because of Abby and where she is now, and how close Valerie and I were to being right there with her: lost, insane.”
Her eyes saddened, her fire drifting away. “When you lied to the Captain, disowning me in front of him, I thought I was done for. Crazy. Headed for the Brig or the loo
ny bin. You left me to flounder. But you didn’t know me then.”
I leaned in toward her. “I do now.”
“You still let all of this happen. You didn’t say anything. Not a single warning.”
An invisible hand wrung my chest, twisting my heart dry. I was frozen in place for all of eternity.
“I’m sorry.” Sadness ripped through me like a tidal wave. I tried to swallow it. Couldn’t. Tears seeped out, and I couldn’t stop them. “I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t.”
She hiccupped her own sobs and raised a hand to my face. Her warm palm cupped the same cheek she’d slapped minutes earlier. “Then let’s just take it one step at a time. What do we do now?”
I pulled myself together with a steadying breath and held up the medicine. “Let me put this on you. Then we plan. I know Weyland wants to make a move.”
“Took him long enough,” she said, quiet.
“Too many people in the crossfire.”
She sucked in her bottom lip, tears brimming all over again. “Mich—” She coughed to stop herself from crying and shook her head. She hoisted herself up onto the sink counter. “Just put this crap on me so it stops hurting, okay?”
Just as Freddy had, she didn’t pause to mourn Michael. Maybe she wouldn’t, not until this was all over. Or maybe she already had. In either case, I swallowed my own knot of feelings before they closed up my throat for good.
I twisted off the cap of the ointment and squeezed some of the lotion onto my fingers. “This will probably hurt.”
She looked at the wall. “Just do it.”
Gingerly, I spread the medicine. She flinched at first, but there must have been some kind of numbing agent in it because she stopped moving and let me finish. I capped the tube and washed my hands.
“We’re gonna get out of this. Help is on the way,” I said.
Her eyes glossed over when they met mine. “Did you talk to the Admiral, too?”
“No, but someone’s coming for us. You have to hang on a little longer.” As long as TAO got the message and didn’t take our non-response as a bad sign, anyway.
Gyre (Atlas Link Series Book 1) Page 24
