EVO Nation Series Trilogy Box Set

by K. J. Chapman

  “Four minutes and thirty seconds,” Adam says, jumping onto the desk and wedging his knife under the vent grate. It breaks away easily and he hands it to me.

  It’s heavier than it looks. I screw up my face as my muscle flexes around the bullet. My hand is numb from the tourniquet, and the grate slips through my grip, clattering on the floor. Everyone starts. Yvette opens her mouth to say something, but thinks better of it. Maybe my pointed look put her off? It’s just as well, because I’m in the mood to tear shreds off her at the slightest provocation.

  “The air conditioning is on,” says Adam, pulling himself up into the vent, his boots sliding from view.

  The background humming noise, that I hadn’t really given any attention, is now loud and prominent.

  “It’s not just air conditioning, it’s the air supply for below ground,” says Yvette.

  Adam appears a few moments later, crouching over the hole. “It’s freezing up here, but it’s bigger than the dumbwaiter. Who’s first?” he asks, hanging an arm out of the hole.

  Haydn steps forward with a new-found sense of confidence. “Me.” He kisses Yana’s forehead and climbs on to the desk.

  Gripping the rim of the vent with one hand, and Adam’s hand with the other, he pulls himself into the hole. Haydn’s upper body strength is impressive; he barely needs Adam’s help. He arranges himself into a sitting position and shuffles out of sight.

  Yvette climbs onto the desk behind him. Part of me wants to make her go last and let her know how it feels, but Adam takes both her wrists, lifting her up effortlessly. Haydn wraps an arm around her waist, guiding her into the vent.

  I lead Yana to the desk and hold her hand as she stands. Her whole body is shaking. She looks into the vent with petrified eyes. I can’t imagine this girl ever working in a sleazy bar or living in a squat, she’s just too much of a sweetheart.

  Adam smiles at her. “Give me your hands,” he says, gently. “I promise I won’t drop you.”

  She slowly raises her hands over her head, and Adam takes the opportunity to haul her into the vent. She throws herself forward onto him, wrapping her arms around his head.

  “Yana, it’s okay. You can let go,” he soothes.

  Haydn prizes her from him and into the other side of the vent, the metal creaking ominously under the weight.

  “Move back. Spread the weight,” Adam says, his smile quickly dissipating.

  Golding helps me onto the desk and climbs up behind me. “You first, Teds. I think you might need a hand,” he says.

  He isn’t wrong. Lifting my arms above my head is agony. Adam takes my wrists, and Golding wraps his arms around my lower half, lifting at the same time as Adam pulls. I stifle a cry. Adam closes his eyes against the sight of me as he pulls again.

  Golding pushes my body up higher until Adam can get a grip under my arms. He needs to kneel to lift me in at this angle. He gives a final pull under my arms to slide me fully into the vent, but a piece of the tourniquet catches on something, pulling excruciatingly tight on my arm. I scream, sending a tinny sound bouncing off the metal. Adam readjusts his grip and pulls again. I cry out again.

  “Stop! She’s caught up,” shouts Golding. He drops my legs, leaving them dangling out of the vent. Adam holds my full weight, my whole body shaking with pain.

  “Where? I can’t see anything,” says Haydn. His hands move my scrubs and search around my arm.

  “Hard-core, remember,” Adam whispers, his breath warm on my ear.

  I grip the nape of his neck with my free hand and concentrate on the hot, softness of his skin.

  Golding pushes my legs aside. “Move your hand two inches to the left, Hay. There is a small screw.”

  The pressure releases, and Adam lifts me the rest of the way into the vent. I slide off him, lying face down on the cool metal. My cheeks are wet from tears, and I take a moment to fight the urge to throw up. The stream of cold air ripples my scrubs whilst Adam smooths my loose hair down. Wiping my face with my good arm, I fight back anymore tears before looking up at him.

  “Don’t forget me,” Golding calls from the office.

  Adam and Haydn both grab a wrist, and Golding piles into the vent behind me.

  “You okay, Teds?” he asks.

  “I’m hard-core, remember,” I say.

  A smile tugs at the corners of Adam’s mouth.

  The vent creaks again. Adam slides passed me, inching further down the vent. I follow, leaving space between us.

  “Listen up,” he whispers. “We need to move. Follow me on your hands and knees. Keep your pace light and fast, and no talking.” He sets off down the vent in a semi crouch.

  Adam shines a torch ahead, whilst Haydn holds another from behind. The light highlights the contours of Adam’s back. His muscles bulge under his uniform, and I find myself studying the outline of his shoulders- and waist- and bum. The heat of embarrassment flushes my cheeks. I feel ridiculous. Get a grip, Teddie.

  The vent forks up ahead, and Adam slows to a stop. Pointing to another grate, he places a finger to his lips, and we fall into total silence. Daylight and conversation seep through the holes from the room below.

  “That bitch doctor and a rogue TORO are aiding them,” says Towley. There is a long pause. “She stuck Roscoe with the immobiliser. The fat git is a dribbling mess in the therapy suite as we speak. I need you here, Boyd.” He is irate. I can hear his footsteps pacing directly below us. “What the hell has that got to do with anything? I sound nasally because EVO 6 bashed my face in with a gun,” Towley spits.

  Golding taps my back in praise, but I shake him off, intent to listen.

  “Yes, she is still alive. They’re all still alive, God damn it. Just get your ass here, now. The place is on lock down and swarming with TORO, so make sure you have your badge.” I hear him slam the phone into its cradle with a frustrated growl.

  There is a rap on the door and Towley shouts them in.

  “Sir, we believe they have entered the ventilation system through Dr Roscoe’s office,” says a deep, empty TORO voice.

  I can hear my heart beat in my ears, and Adam edges away from the grate.

  “Just find them!” barks Towley.

  He rattles through a drawer below. There is an unmistakable click of a gun being cocked, and a horrendous noise in the vent as a bullet screeches through the metal just centimetres from Adam’s head. I slap my hand to my mouth to muffle any noise that may escape. Our eyes meet and they don’t drift until we hear Towley leave the room.

  “Hurry,” whispers Adam.

  I quickly crawl over the grate, followed by the others. We take the left fork and daylight filters into the vent. The humming sound of the air supply mixes with a repetitive thrum similar to that of a large bird beating its wings. The sound intensifies the further toward the light we get.

  “We should go right. It’ll take us straight to the roof stairwell,” says Yvette.

  “They’ll expect that,” Adam replies, not looking back.

  Crawling towards the daylight seems like a better idea than venturing down another black vent shaft, and I don’t want to listen to anything that woman has to say. If she had her way, Adam would be lying dead somewhere in that dungeon.

  “Are you trying to get us killed, TORO?” she snaps.

  I lose my rag. “His name is Adam and he is the only reason we’re all still alive. You were happy to leave him behind in that supply room- I wasn’t. I actually thought you were brave going first, but real bravery is in knowing you are the one that is going to be left behind and still helping everyone regardless. If Adam says we’re going this way, then we’re going this way. Excuse me if I don’t trust a word that comes out of your mouth.”

  “I was ensuring your safety,” she says, her mouth gaping.

  Turning away, I say, “No, you were ensuring your safety.”

  “Quiet, the pair of you,” snaps Adam.

  He looks annoyed, and although I was defending him, I don’t blame him. I feel a total idiot
for not having the strength to hold my tongue. Footsteps thunder below us, and I have a sinking feeling that I have given us away.

  Adam rushes to the end of the vent. His uniform flaps in a strong breeze, and as he stands up, his head disappears from my line of sight. Then, stepping forward, he is totally gone from view.

  I hurry along after him, the breeze chilling me to the bone. The thrum is deafening and comes from a massive fan that is double the height of Adam in length and width. It stands upright, inset in a concrete square surrounded by caging. I can see white, cloudy sky through the blur of propellers.

  I step into the fan compartment and my scrubs blow tight around me, leaving nothing to the imagination. The others emerge beside us; Yvette standing the furthest away from me.

  “That’s a big ass fan,” shouts Golding, taking the thought out of my head. He opens his arms, allowing the wind to wash over him. “Let me guess, we’re going through it?” he says to Adam.

  It hadn’t dawned on me that there is no other way out.

  Adam pulls at the caging and it bends away from the fan. Haydn and Golding both join him, pulling with all their strength. The metal hinges keeping it in place bend under the force until one snaps and hangs on the one side.

  Adam takes his torch and drops it in to fan. The power of the propellers grind on it, sending parts of it splintering back at us. I won’t let myself imagine what it could do to flesh and bone.

  “Hand me that gun,” Adam says to Yvette. His tone is cold, and she doesn’t question him this time.

  A noise rumbles from inside the vent. I crawl back in part way, listening to the voices and movement - they’re close. “They’re coming,” I shout, climbing back out of the vent.

  “Teddie, try and collapse the vent,” says Yvette, shoving me back inside.

  “And what if this doesn’t work?” says Haydn. “We’ll have trapped ourselves.”

  “Just do something,” she cries, desperation choking her voice. “Teddie, you must be able to do something?”

  I can’t back out of the vent with her knees and hands pressing into my spine. Every shove sends shooting pains through my arm.

  “Get your hands off of her,” says Adam. His hand wraps around my good arm, lifting me to my feet.

  “Someone needs to do something!” Yvette shouts, shoving a finger in his chest.

  I step in front of him and push her hand away. “Don’t you dare touch him.”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Adam says, sighing. “Doc, feel free to go in there and brain wash them some more. The rest of you stick with me.”

  Yvette sticks her nose in the air at his sarcasm.

  Adam walks toward the fan, and with one solid movement, thrusts a gun into the propellers. It judders and screeches as the material of the gun scrapes across the propeller.

  The propellers hold, and the gaps between the four of them are big enough to squeeze through. The wind stops and our clothes fall still against our bodies, my hair dropping in a mess of red across my face. The concrete quakes from the propellers fighting against the gun. Adam grabs Yana around the waist, dragging her through the gap, followed by Haydn.

  The noise in the vent grows louder. I drop to my knees and poke my head back into the shaft. A TORO is only a few metres away. He fires his gun just as I withdraw my head.

  “TORO,” I shout, grabbing Golding’s hand.

  The fan screeches as the gun slips slightly. Adam drags us through the gap, and we fall in a pile on a snow-covered rooftop. Yvette is half way through the gap and stumbles as the weight of the propeller meets her back.

  “My skirt is caught.” She tugs desperately at the material. “Help me,” she screams, as two TORO emerge from the vent.

  A gun fires and the bullet imbeds into the metal of the propeller. Adam pulls me away, positioning himself between me and the TORO. I stretch an arm around him, holding out my hand with my fingers splayed. I can’t see what I’m doing or where I am aiming, but I release a blast that sends both Adam and I flying backward.

  The TORO smash into the concrete casing of the vent shaft. Neither is moving, and I pray they’re just unconscious, but I doubt it. Then, they start to stir, one of them pointing his gun towards Yvette.

  “You need me, TORO. Help me or your memories die with me,” she screams.

  Fear flashes in Adam’s eyes. He rushes at her, slicing at her skirt with his knife. The bullet hits him in the vest, sending him sprawling backwards. Yvette scrambles through the gap, and Adam kicks out the gun from the propellers. They start up instantly with a deafening screech.

  Snow falls around us, covering the gravelly roof in thick drifts. My feet ache from the cold, but I keep moving. Adam helps Haydn along, and I take Golding’s and Yana’s hands as I run passed.

  The building is vast, and down below, numerous pre-fabricated buildings and hangars sit dotted amongst the sea of white. A wooded area surrounds the whole facility like a natural, dense barrier.

  A recognisable thrum of a chopper fills the winter air. My mind swims with memories of the night in the cove. I shake my head to rid myself of the image of Dad’s dead body slumping into the boat. The chopper comes into view, flying in low over the tree tops.

  “Don’t worry that’s our lift,” calls Yvette, over the sounding siren.

  TORO pile from the hangars like a swarm of ants, firing shots at the chopper, and we all drop to the ground with the snow wetting our clothes. The chopper hovers above the snowy roof, and the other government official, Boyd, hangs out of the pilot window with his gun raised.

  “Move,” he shouts.

  The door opens, and a second man hangs out of the chopper. He too has a gun.

  “Uncle Isaac?” shouts Golding. His face is a mix of relief and confusion.

  Uncle Isaac? Golding jumps to his feet, dragging Yana with him, and runs for the chopper. I see them dive in the door.

  Isaac’s eyes meet mine and he holds out his hand to me. I’m rooted to the spot. I can’t move toward him. A churning feeling plays in my stomach, but more than that, I’m as scared as hell. I’m face to face with my real Dad.

  Haydn’s figure limps ahead of me. His bare feet leave deep impressions in the snow, but my own feet won’t move. Yvette runs passed me, her ripped skirt flapping in the wind. Isaac pulls them both into the chopper.

  A warm drip lands on my foot and draws my attention away from Isaac- blood. More blood trickles down my arm, dripping from my finger and leaving a burst of colour in the snow. The world around me wanes and fades. The noise of the chopper is replaced by my own heart beat in my head, and then I’m falling. In the next moment, I’m not. I’m moving toward the chopper, and toward Isaac. The black lettering that reads TORO 61 is pressed against my face, and Adam’s hands hold firmly under my legs and arms. Isaac grabs for us, pulls us inside the chopper, and closes the door.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I don’t think I’ve blacked out, more spaced out. My head feels stuffed with marshmallow, and raising my hand to my face, I can see that the fingers on my bad arm are caked in dry blood.

  Adam sits with me cradled in his arms. I reach up with my good hand and touch his chin gently. He moves his head, so my fingers brush his lips, and he kisses the tips of them. Is it okay for me to curl into him and stay like this forever?

  The chopper dips severely, causing Yana, Golding, and Haydn to shriek. I doubt I have a scream left in me. I’m exhausted. The chopper dips again, and Adam grips me tighter.

  “They’re relentless,” says Boyd, manoeuvring the chopper.

  “They’re TORO. What did you expect?” screams Yvette. “Just get some tree cover. They can only follow us on the ground. The other chopper is out of action.”

  “Teddie,” says a smooth voice. It is a calm sound in amongst all the mayhem. Isaac crouches in front of me. “Do you know who I am?”

  I nod. “You’re Isaac,” I say. My voice comes out quiet, strained.

  “But do you know who I am?” he asks again
.

  I’m not sure how I expected him to look, but it’s no doubt that I’m Shana’s daughter. His mousey brown hair has a slight curl to it and his blue eyes remind me of my Dad’s. I’m not sure if Isaac’s face is a kind face, yet.

  “You’re my biological father,” I say. I can’t bring myself to call him my Dad. Rob was my Dad and always will be.

  Isaac’s shoulders sag, but he nods and smiles. If he thought this would be an emotional family reunion, he thought wrong.

  “Shit the bed. What?” says Golding, from his seat opposite.

  Yana and Haydn sit up a little straighter.

  Isaac turns to face him. “Golding, this is Theyda, your cousin.”

  “I bet you wish you hadn’t seen me naked now, eh?” I say, sitting up on Adam’s lap.

  Adam’s head snaps to Golding, and Yana and Haydn laugh out loud. It’s the first time I’ve heard proper laughter in ages. We’re actually out of that hell hole. The thought springs to mind and sends a rush of relief surging through me. We’re all out and we’re all alive.

  Golding grins and holds out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Cuz,” he says.

  I shake it and feel my body sway with the chopper.

  “Sorry, my bad,” calls Boyd.

  The back of Boyd’s head blurs as my vision clouds. Adam’s hands tighten on my arms, and I feel myself swing forward. Am I asleep? Sleep would be good.

  A sharp pain jabs my neck, lurching me awake. My body is firing on all cylinders. My heart flutters against my ribs like a bird in a cage. Adam wraps an arm around my chest before I topple onto the chopper floor.

  “She’s probably in shock. That wound needs seeing to,” says Yvette.

  She holds a white pen like contraption to my neck, and I swat her away with my good hand.

  “Then, see to it,” says Isaac. He takes the same tone with her that Adam uses and I like him a bit more for it.

  “I want another five thousand on top of the twenty thousand you already owe me, and I will stay with you until I can assure my safety,” she says.

  It makes sense now. Isaac paid her to get us out.