Wicked Glory

by Gladden, DelSheree

  Chris sees them the moment he straightens and growls in frustration. The others aren’t as bad as the first, but there’s no way to walk through the mess. I only make it about five feet before finding myself army crawling to make it through. Chris struggles along beside me, but as we keep moving, the passable area keeps growing smaller and smaller.

  “Time,” Chris grumbles into his earpiece. I don’t know what the answer is, but it sets him to more grumbling. “No, we’ll make it.” He taps my boot from behind to get my attention. “We’ve got to move faster. Pick up the pace.”

  I want to use my position to my advantage and kick him in the face for a split second. He knows I’m moving as fast as I can. He can’t go any faster, either! We barely have a few inches to maneuver in. Grunting, I do my best to crawl faster, even still. What really irritates me the most is that we’re probably not going to make it in time and then we’ll have to crawl back through this stupid tunnel! Letting my frustration fuel me, I struggle through the tunnel with renewed strength. I’m so focused, I cry out when my hand suddenly hits nothing and I pitch forward, landing hard on my stomach.

  “What’s wrong?” Chris asks in a panicked voice. “Are you okay?”

  I don’t know where my flashlight went. I dropped it when I stumbled, and I can’t see its light anywhere. Questing out with my hand, I feel around for some sense of what we’ve hit. I don’t find anything straight in front of me, but the ground beneath me drops away suddenly. “I think it’s just a pocket that wasn’t caved in. Hold on, let me crawl through and see how far it goes. Come forward after me and toss your flashlight down. I lost mine.”

  I assume Chris’s answering grunt is agreement. Not sure what I’m about to drop into, I pull my body forward. There’s no way to get my feet out in front of me. I resort to reaching over the lip of the drop-off, and wedging my hands into the dirt and mud sloping away from me. I nearly cry out when I finally get enough of myself free and my body tips forward into oblivion. My panic only lasts a few seconds before my backside slams into the muddy ground a paltry foot or less below where my hands had dug into the dirt.

  Coughing, I push myself up to sitting. “It’s not that far of a drop. Come through,” I tell Chris.

  Still blind, I push up to standing and step back from the hole I just fell out of. Chris tosses his flashlight through, lighting up the area, before yanking himself out of the collapsed tunnel and falling. I have his flashlight in hand as he stands and tries to clean himself off. He doesn’t seem to notice the scratch above his eye, dripping a small trail of blood down his face. There’s really no point in trying to clean up, but I could use a minute to rest.

  The minute ends as soon as he presses his fingers to his ear and says, “Time.”

  Again, whatever the other guy’s answer is, Chris is not pleased. He turns and takes the flashlight from me to scan the immediate area. I spot my own flashlight lying in the mud, either broken or accidentally turned off when it fell, and pick it up. As I stand, I realize the area ahead of us is open.

  “It’s time to run,” Chris says.

  He doesn’t need to say anything else. We both take off at a sprint, hoping the rest of the tunnel has held. Our hope only last another five minutes. I’m the first to spot the dirt spread over the tunnel floor. As I get closer, I realize it isn’t just dirt. A string of curse spit out of Chris’s mouth as he comes to a stop behind me. The slab of concrete that has fallen through the tunnel ceiling and blocked any hope of passage creates a confusing mix of disappointment and relief.

  “Time,” Chris snaps into the headset. Slamming a fist into the wall, a look of fury washes over his features. I step back, suddenly drenched in a feeling of startling recognition. I mouth his next words silently, cold creeping down my spine. “It’s not too late.”

  I reach up, not caring if Chris notices, and turn my headset on just in time to hear the words I knew I would.

  “No, you’re out of time.”

  That was where the vision cut off. Now, I watch it play out in front of me as Chris slams his hand into the tunnel wall, drenching us both in a spray of dirt. “There’s enough time,” he growls. “We’re close. We just have to break through this last cave-in. You said yourself there’s only twenty or thirty feet left after that.”

  “You’re already past the time of acceptable escape. If you go in now, the Eroi security will close in on you too soon. There’s no way to make it back in time with the tunnel so deteriorated. We’re calling you off.”

  “No! He’s the reason I was pulled from fieldwork!”

  “No,” David’s cold voice breaks in, “you were pulled from fieldwork because of your overconfidence and cavalier approach to missions. You let yourself be caught on camera with a gun to your target’s head.”

  “His agent killed two members of my team. I had every right…”

  “You have no rights,” David snaps. “You have orders. Your orders then were to take down your target without getting caught. You failed. Your orders in this moment are to back off and get Vanessa out of harm’s way. This time, you will not fail. Do you understand me?”

  I watch as Chris’s fists clench and unclench. His building anger will ensure this mission fails, one way or another. I look away, not sure what to do, until I spot a small opening at the top of the cave-in. It’s too small for Chris… but not for me. Cold settles into my bones as I realize this may be my only chance to gain the upper hand. The same feeling that claimed me after learning the purpose of this mission coats me from head to toe.

  “It’s only twenty feet to the compound, right?” I ask, my voice numb. Everyone linked to the headset channel hears me. Silence.

  “Twenty-six,” the guy who was originally speaking says.

  “What happens after that?”

  Silence.

  “You’ll find access into the building through the basement. A route has already been prepared through a drainage pipe,” David says.

  “Once you’re in the building, I’ll guide you to Leben’s office,” says the other guy.

  Chris is the only one still fuming. He looks anything but happy about my suggestion. “What happened to saying there won’t be time to escape?” he demands. “You said she was to be protected at all costs!”

  There is no hesitation as I say, “I can do this. I’ll be in and out before anyone notices.”

  Chris opens his mouth to argue, but I turn away and scramble up the mound of dirt and collapsed cement before sense returns to me. Chris yells at me to stop, but I am halfway through the opening by then, shoving loose rocks and dirt out of my way. I barely even feel it as the dirt beneath me collapses and my side scrapes against a broken edge of concrete. I reach for my hunger on instinct, but shove it away quickly, not wanting to waste any of my stored energy on healing an injury, not when I have work to do.

  As soon as I land on solid ground, I start running. It isn’t hard to spot the opening cut into the pipe. The patch they placed over it to avoid causing a leak that would arouse suspicion is easy to yank away. The pipe smells awful, but I climb in headfirst and pull myself the blessedly short distance to the end of the pipe. Whoever was here before me already loosened the overflow drain cover, so I’m able to easily push it away. I’m crouched on the cement floor, looking for any signs of movement a second later.

  The silence is eerie, but I don’t let myself ponder on it. “I’m in,” I say.

  I expect the next voice I hear to be the nameless guy on the other end of the link, but instead, I hear David. “Vanessa, it’s time to dance.”

  The rush his words give me is frightening, but at the same time, calming. I let down my walls, my inhibitions, and the other guy starts guiding me through the Eroi compound. I’m not sure what time of night it is, but the hallways are largely empty. I can’t really imagine why the leader of this group would be here when no one else is, but I follow each command to turn or climb without question.

  It’s been less than two minutes before I slow to a cautious cro
uch three stories up from where I started. All the hallways are lit, and there are subtle noises of movement that I couldn’t hear anywhere else in the building. This risk of being discovered is so much greater now that I don’t dare peek around the corner. It’s up to my hunger now. Drawing on the pain I have stored up, I push my energy into focusing my senses.

  Almost immediately, I hear the tap-tap of shoes on tile, but I also know those feet are two corridors from my position and walking away from me. The scent of steel, the kind that only belongs to a firearm, trails after him. He’ll be back this way in a few minutes. The gurgle of a water bottle seems loud, almost drowning out the sound of voices further down the hall. “There are at least three men down the hall to my right. Thirty feet on the left,” I say, in a voice that is almost unrecognizable to my ears.

  “That’s Leben’s office.”

  “Plan your approach,” David cuts in.

  “Direct. There’s only one exterior door. The vents would take too long. Security will be making another round before I could handle the targets.”

  I can hear the approval in his voice as he says, “Left hip pocket.”

  Nodding, I make a conscious choice to turn off my earpiece. The guard is still a full minute away. Stalking forward, I turn into the hall with a blank expression and blank mind. I don’t feel anything as I reach the door and wrap my fingers around the handle. This is the only way to protect the people I love. Regret and hesitation are buried deep. Everything inside of me shuts down. One quick twist breaks the lock as my free hand slips into the pocket, wrapping around steel.

  They have only a moment to look up from the table before my first knife sinks into the nearest man’s chest. Two more knives are in my hand a split second later, but I only lose one. Another pair of shocked eyes turns lifeless as the body collapses to the ground. The last man straightens slowly. He says and does nothing as I push the door closed behind me. The room is saturated with the coppery smell of blood, yet this man faces me squarely.

  “He was wrong about you,” the man says, betraying himself as Noah’s master. “He would have staked his life on your inability to kill.”

  “He should have staked his life on my ability to protect the people I care about.”

  The man blinks. “You’re here on David’s orders, not on some crusade of protection.”

  My fingers twitch. “I may be here on orders, but my goals are my own. You should have left my family alone.”

  His mouth opens to speak again, but before the first words even form on his lips, his entire body goes slack. The knife protruding from his chest glints in the fluorescent light as he falls. I stare at the strangely still body, feeling absolutely nothing.

  The spare blade in my off-hand slips back into the pocket, seemingly of its own free will. Turning away from him, I pause before touching the door. The guard’s footsteps are too close. I know I took too long. Escaping back the way I came is impossible. Knowing I have only one option left to me, I turn for the table. My foot is on the surface, ready to propel me toward the vent cover, but something about the papers spread across the table catch my eye.

  With no time to stop and ponder them, I scoop them into a pile and stuff them down the front of my jacket. Half a second later, the vent cover is dangling as my feet disappear into darkness. It takes only a fraction of my concentration to slip the cover back into place and begin dragging myself through the vent that is barely wide enough to accommodate my shoulders. I’m well into the vents over the next room before I hear noise coming from the place I just left.

  Under no delusion that my escape will be easy, I find a vent that leads upward and scramble for the first opening I can find. My feet drop lightly onto a table seconds later, and I sprint out of the room and down the hall to the nearest stair access. Boots pound down the hall behind me, into the stairwell and up the stairs. I have no idea how tall this building is, but I run with everything I have.

  Somewhere along the way, I remember to turn my earpiece back on and my voice breaks in on someone demanding an answer from me. “Extraction,” I gasp. “Roof. Now.”

  That’s all I can manage to spit out as I run, bursting out onto the roof seconds after the last word leaves my lips. Startled by the sudden exposure to the night sky, I skid to a stop, giving my pursuers seconds I shouldn’t to catch up with me. Eyes darting around, I look for an escape route. The helicopter I suspect is on standby somewhere is likely several miles away. I don’t know how long it will take it to reach me, but I know it won’t be fast enough.

  I spot a building to the left that’s only one story shorter than the one I’m standing on. There’s a ten-foot gap, but I drop into an all-out sprint and leap from the ledge without a second thought. The split second of weightlessness elicits the first hint of emotion I’ve felt since that moment in the collapsed tunnel. It vanishes just as quickly, though, as I tuck and roll onto the coarse tar and asphalt roof on the building I was aiming for. I stumble up to my feet and keep running, not knowing or even caring if the Eroi are still chasing me. I just run. Away from the Eroi. Away from David. Away from what I just did.

  It’s not until the whop of helicopter blades roars up behind me that I finally slow and look up. A ladder drops, and I grab it, swinging easily onto its rungs and climbing back up to Chris’s waiting hand. He pulls me into a bear hug and immediately demands, “What happened to your headset? We lost contact right before you approached the office.”

  “I turned it off,” I answer, my voice sounding even more foreign than before.

  “What? Why?”

  “I didn’t want the distraction,” I lie.

  Chris shakes his head at me. “What if you needed help?”

  “I knew I wouldn’t.”

  My wooden voice scales back his earlier excitement to get me back safely. I don’t react to the concern that slips into his expression. I can’t. He decides to leave me be for now, only saying, “David is going to have something to say about you cutting communication.”

  I’m sure he’s right, but I only lean back against the stiff seat and close my eyes. Emotions quiver on the edge of my consciousness, but I refuse to give them purchase. My hunger is strangely tempered, as if leashed, but ready to rage at any moment. I was barely aware of its rise as I entered the office, its raging as I took down each of my targets, or its continued presence as I ran. Lapped up pain simmers in my core, begging for release, but I hold it close.

  It seems to be only minutes before we’re approaching the compound again. I step down onto the landing platform and am faced with David. Fear of reprimand is tucked too far away for it to really touch me. I meet his gaze, expressionless. He says nothing, only grips my shoulder tightly and begins leading me toward the private dorms. We stop at a door that looks like all the others. When he opens it, I step forward, but he stops me.

  “You performed very well today, Vanessa.”

  I can only nod before abandoning him for the empty room and closing the door behind me. As soon as the lock flicks shut, my barriers shatter. My hands start shaking as I press them to my face. My legs are next. They give out completely as the shock of what I did tonight sets in. Sliding down the door, I gasp for breath as agony washes over me. I curl into a ball and sob, inconsolable and completely alone.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: No Holding Back

  (Zander)

  I know it’s late when I peel my eyes open and find my room filled with light. Feeling groggy, rather than well rested, I push myself up to sitting. The air feels weighted down by the humidity left over from the storm last night. Just thinking about it makes me cringe.

  There is precious little in the world that scared me other than losing the people I love. I know it makes me a pansy to admit lightning is one of the few things that can affect me, but it doesn’t change the fact that I spent the majority of last night tossing and turning at every flash.

  I’m not even sure what it is about it that I fear. The following thunder doesn’t faze me, just the flashing charge
of electricity. I shake my head at my weakness and finally manage to get my feet on the floor. I should have just stayed with Annabelle last night, but with Grandma as weak as she is and David not around, I haven’t been to her apartment much this week. Wanting to rectify that, I start making plans.

  The wood floors are pleasantly cool against my bare feet as I pad across the hall to Van’s room. My knock isn’t answered, so I push it open, assuming she’s already up and around. Not surprised when I find her room empty, I turn for the stairs. Concern doesn’t hit until I get to the kitchen and find it empty. I’m breathing hard when I stop in the middle of the hallway after searching the entire downstairs for her. Where is she?

  Rushing back up to my room, I start throwing on clothes. I barely even hear my phone ringing. Only habit makes me grab it from my nightstand, yanking the charger out of the phone as I spin away in search of shoes.

  “Have you heard from her?” Ketchup’s voice begs.

  “What? From Van? No.”

  “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know. I thought maybe you would,” I say as something much stronger than fear creeps up my spine.

  “I got the same text you did!” Ketchup snaps.

  “What? She texted you?”

  Growling, Ketchup seems ready to explode. “She texted you too! It was a group text to us both. Is this the first time you’ve picked up your freakin’ phone all morning? Weren’t you even a little concerned when you woke up and realized your sister wasn’t there?”

  “I just woke up five minutes ago! I’m been searching the house for her. I didn’t look at my phone right away, so calm the hell down and tell me what you know!”