Deviation
Page 24
Obadiah makes a noise of frustration and smacks the oversized steering wheel with both hands.
Across the alley, Linc goes still and then abruptly, he darts forward. A shot rings out. I bite back the urge to scream his name, but a small whimper escapes. Linc makes it to the far wall and fades into the shadows.
“Holy mother,” Obadiah mutters from the driver’s seat. “I’m going to faint.”
“We have to get him,” I say, my eyes still glued to the alley.
I can’t see Linc anymore. My pulse speeds.
Obadiah swears again. From the backseat, Daniel lets loose with his own curse.
“Get in then,” Obadiah growls.
“Obadiah, I can’t—”
“We’re not leaving him, I promise,” Obadiah says, his voice rising. “Now, get in.”
I open the door and climb in next to Obadiah. Daniel pulls his own door shut with a soft click. “All right. Buckle up, everyone,” Obadiah says.
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
Obadiah’s mouth is set in a hard line that would’ve made him look tough if not for the heavy eyeliner ringing his lids. “We’re doing what you said. We’re getting Linc. Now hold on. My brakes are kind of touchy.”
Obadiah puts the car in gear and slams his foot onto the gas.
For a second, the tires spin and we don’t move. Then, they catch and the car shoots backward with a screech. Exhaust blows back against the window and I can’t see anything but foggy darkness as we hurtle into reverse. The car fishtails side to side as we shoot past the place I last saw Linc.
I would scream if any sound could escape my closed throat.
Obadiah gives up on his rearview and stares intently at his side mirror. Without warning, he takes his foot off the gas and slams it against the brake. The car skids and then I am thrown forward against the seat belt.
There’s a heavy thunk and then we lurch to a complete stop.
“What was that?” I ask.
“Shit. We hit something,” Obadiah says.
“Or someone,” Daniel adds.
Outside my window, a form materializes through the cloud of exhaust. It moves steadily closer, smoke and steam pluming around it, until I recognize the figure.
“Linc!” I wrench my door open and throw myself at him. He catches me easily and pushes me back toward the car. “Are you all right?” I ask.
“I’m good.” We wedge into the front passenger seat together. I’m half on his lap and half on the emergency brake. He yanks the door shut behind him. “Let’s go.”
Obadiah doesn’t need to be told twice. He stomps the gas and we shoot down the alley. I bounce and sway as he swings into traffic and accelerates. Linc’s arms slide around me and pull me more securely onto his lap.
“What did we hit?” I ask.
“Emile,” Linc says.
“You’re welcome,” Obadiah says with a whoop as we turn right and meld into downtown traffic. “Geez, I thought you guys were done for. What took you so long?”
I let myself relax against Linc’s chest as I listen to him tell Obadiah what happened with Taylor. Obadiah’s eyes bulge but that’s the extent of his shock. “Well, yeah, I mean, it’s Taylor,” is all he says before letting Linc continue.
The bass in Linc’s voice vibrates from his chest to my back. It would be comforting if not for the never-ending supply of panic shooting through me. One guy. We defeated one guy. Titus said everything I accomplish is because he let it happen. A ball of dread forms in my stomach.
“He never showed?” Obadiah asks Linc. “You don’t think that’s odd given he told Taylor they were on their way?”
“I do,” Linc agrees. “The whole thing was too damn easy. But we have to see it through. We can’t afford to go back now.”
“I’m not saying go back. But I think you’re right about the easy part,” Obadiah says. “He always has something up his sleeve.”
It’s too close to what I’m thinking and an image of Ida on a metal table threatens to crumble my defenses against the panic churning my insides. He’s right. Titus always has something up his sleeve. Who will he kill when he realizes he failed to kill me?
In the backseat, Daniel is quiet and unmoving. His head is tipped back, leaning against the seat. His arm is still bleeding, though not as heavily. His pants are stained with it where he’s pressed it there to apply pressure. His chest rises and falls in a rhythm far too slow to be healthy. I know he has a long road to recover from what Titus has done to him.
We navigate across town. The money slowly evaporates and gives way to forgotten warehouses and low-income housing. I recognize this street as the back way to the safe house. But this isn’t where we park. It’s too exposed. Too easy to spot.
“Why are we stopped?” I ask.
No one answers. I look over at Obadiah but his gaze is fixed on the horizon. I follow the path of his eyes but all I see are nondescript, abandoned buildings.
A glance into the back shows Daniel slumped against the seat. His eyes are dark against the circles of exhaustion ringing them. He’s awake, but barely.
Linc stiffens underneath me and I sit up, already searching for a threat. I open my mouth to ask again, but Linc interrupts. “Get closer,” he says. The bass in his voice is deeper. He’s stressed.
I face forward again, still searching. Like before, I see nothing but buildings. A plume of smoke rises in the distance. I dismiss it as steam or exhaust billowing from a factory but then realize in all my trips here, I’ve never seen smoke like that before.
Obadiah presses lightly on the gas and the car rocks forward. We turn left and then right again, a block closer now. The smoke is much thicker here. Just above the building in front of us, I see pieces of what looks like ash raining down from the tips of the smoke pluming upward. They fall onto the rooftop of the abandoned office building obscuring our view.
I stare in confusion until another piece flutters onto the windshield. It burns from the edges in and then slowly disintegrates. “What is that?” I ask.
A loud boom sounds and the sky lights up, flashing red and orange before dying away. More pieces of ash fly but they aren’t falling, they’re shooting upward and sideways and in every direction. “Something’s on fire,” I say. My voice catches as I realize—
“No,” I choke out. “No.” I fumble for the door latch but Linc’s hands stop me.
“You can’t, Ven,” he says.
“Please tell me that’s not your safe house,” Daniel says. No one answers him. “Explains why it felt easy,” he mutters.
“Get closer,” Linc says.
“They’ll see us,” Obadiah argues.
“We have to know,” Linc tells him.
Obadiah sighs and eases forward. A right and then another right. We round the last turn and Obadiah stops. I cry out, the sound catching in my throat and coming out strangled.
“Shit,” Daniel says.
“He knew the entire time,” Obadiah breathes.
Linc is silent and, for the moment, so am I as we all take in what’s left of the warehouse. Even with the windows up, the smell of sulfur and burnt wood fills the car.
Do not think for one moment that any of your progress has been your own doing.
The memory of the words Titus spoke is a horrific and startling truth.
Despite the evidence before me, I don’t want to admit what I’m seeing. A soft sob rises in my throat. It escapes in a strangled sound. I press my hand to my mouth in an effort to swallow the rest.
He knew. I have no idea for how long, but he knew. Morton and the others, I’ve betrayed them. And my own chance at true freedom.
Another explosion goes off, this one rocking the car and rattling the glass. The last remaining stretch of wall collapses into the flames. Shards of metal and concrete and glass blow in every direction.
The safe house—or at least the parts of it visible from the street—crumbles and burns. There is nothing left. Nowhere to go. Something inside me
breaks. Underneath it, all of the panic rushes in. I let it drown me, not even bothering to fight it. On the outside, my expression crumbles and hands become fists. I suck in a deep breath. Then I scream. And scream and scream and scream.
Book 3 in the Clone Chronicles coming 2015
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Heather Hildenbrand was born and raised in a small town in northern Virginia where she was homeschooled through high school. Since 2011, she’s published more than eight YA & NA novels including the bestselling Dirty Blood series. She splits her time between coastal Virginia and the island of Guam and loves having a mobile career and outrageous lifestyle of living in two places.
Heather is also a publishing and success coach bent on equipping and educating artists who call themselves authors. She loves teaching fellow writers how to create the same freedom-based lifestyle she enjoys. For more information visit www.phoenixauthorink.com and find out how to create your own OutRAGEous Life.
You can find out more about Heather and her books at www.heatherhildenbrand.blogspot.com
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Other titles by Heather Hildenbrand:
Dirty Blood (book 1, the Dirty Blood series)
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Cold Blood (book 2, Dirty Blood series)
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Blood Bond (book 3, Dirty Blood series)
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Blood Rule, (book 4, Dirty Blood series)
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Whisper
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Across the Galaxy
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Imitation (book 1, Clone Chronicles)
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DreamKiller: The Complete Saga (a novella)
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A Risk Worth Taking
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The Indie Author Guide: A Self-Publisher’s Toolbox
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