EVO Nation Series Trilogy Box Set

by K. J. Chapman

  Despite my worries, it is incredibly easy to force tears. When I’m face to face with the man who has cost us so many lives, crying is as natural as breathing.

  “I never expected you to expose me. I thought that if I came back to you—”

  “Now, we’re getting to the truth of it. You came back because you are losing, and you thought that despite everything that you have thrown at me, I would welcome you back with open arms. You thought that you’d be safer in here with me than out there.”

  I don’t respond. I’m not exactly sure how to. This conversation is on the verge of tipping the wrong way. I’m scared of what comes next.

  He leans back on his haunches, eyeing me curiously. His serious face breaks into a grin and he brushes the backs of his fingers over my cheek. “Your hair is growing back. I think I like it short. Oh, don’t look so forlorn. Of course, my arms are open. You know where I stand, Theyda. I told you so on those cliffs.”

  “You told me you loved me, and then left me for dead.”

  “Yet, here you are.”

  I close my eyes and hang my head back. “I’m just tired of all this. I’m done. I think I came here hoping that you would kill me.”

  Something comes over his face. I’m not sure if it’s surprise or triumph. That in itself wouldn’t concern me, but I detect pity there. Toying with this man is like sticking a wet knife into a plug socket.

  He takes my hand and examines my bandaged wrist where the cuff had cut in. His fingers trail over my palm as he inhales deeply. “You have no idea how happy I am that you are alive. I wouldn’t allow myself to believe it to be true. When the soldiers from the first raid said that Theyda Leason used telepathy, I discounted them instantly. I should have known that you’d surprise me. You always did, just like you have tonight. However, you’ve done the right thing. As long as you don’t cause ructions, I can keep you alive. There are many who want you dead, but do as I say, and you’ll be safe.”

  “Lorrell’s in,” Adam voice penetrates my mind. “She’s making contact with the Technokins as we speak.”

  Keeping my smile at bay, I meet Towley’s gaze. “No more bombings,” I ask. “I’ll stay here with you if you promise me that no more people have to die. My life for theirs.”

  He smiles now. “That is a fair exchange.” He leans down and kisses the top of my head. “How does the saying go? If you love something, let it go, and if it is truly yours, it will find its way back to you.”

  “You do not love me, Towley. You may think you do, but your perception is skewed. This is not how love looks. I will stay here, I will do what you want, play the games you’ll surely have me play, but I will never believe that you could love me – anyone - as much as you love yourself.” My voice is level, soft even. “This isn’t me causing ructions, this is me telling it how I see it.”

  “Love looks how I want it to look,” he whispers, opening the door. “It’s nice to have you home.”

  I take a few calming breaths before replying to Adam. “That’s great. Now, get me the hell out of here.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Being told to sit tight is a lot more frustrating than I thought it would be. I literally can’t do anything but in this damn wheelchair. My neck is the only thing I can move freely, and I continue to flex my fingers and toes to keep the circulation going.

  Every time the door opens, I worry that Towley is back to play mind games with me, but thankful of small mercies, he hasn’t been back since our chat earlier.

  It’s eerily quiet. The only people I have seen in the last twelve hours or so were two nurses who came to assist me to the toilet with an audience of five armed soldiers. It was a relief to get out of the wheelchair and have my legs uncuffed, even if it was for a few minutes to pee. I stretched out my ankles and knees, allowing my joints to crack in appreciation.

  “In three hours, you can be transferred and restrained to the bed for the night,” the matronly nurse stated before ushering the younger, less stern looking nurse out of the door with her.

  I have spent the time since their departure counting floor tiles, doing my times tables in my head, and trying to say Supercalifragulisticexpialidocious backwards.

  “Baby?”

  “I’m here.”

  “We’re coming for you. There will be a fire alarm, and the Technokins will shut down the Facility in forty minutes.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Sit tight.”

  I growl audibly. “Stop telling me to sit tight,” I snap in my mind.

  “I’m sorry, but this will all be over within the hour. Just keep your head down between now and then. Link if you need anything.”

  “Be safe,” I say, hoping he can feel the love flooding through me. “And hurry the hell up.”

  The mix of emotions is a hard concoction to deal with. Relief at being freed from this place and that man gives way to worry. Closing my eyes, I pray. “Please, don’t let me lose anyone else,” I whisper to the nothingness.

  The door swings open, and I jump out of my skin. Towley enters followed by his bodyguards. The nurses and a handful of soldiers file in after them.

  “Did we wake you? It’s time to be transferred into the bed. No funny business,” he states, presenting an impartial demeanour in front of his staff.

  I’m wheeled to the edge of the room as the hospital-style bed is pulled away from the wall. Two soldiers stand on one side, two nurses on the other, and the remaining two soldiers unstrap my arms from the chair and shackle my wrists together in front of me. They ensure my legs remain shackled for the duration. With little effort, on the count of three, I am lifted from the wheelchair and hoisted onto the mattress. My head is strapped to the bed, the restraint pushing the spindles of the skull scanner into my forehead. Another strap pins my chest, and only then are my arms and legs unshackled and clipped into the bed restraints.

  “Smoothly done,” Towley praises his team. “Once we’re above, I want her transported as fast as humanly possible into the aircraft, and then the boys up-top will take over.”

  Aircraft? My stomach lurches, and the matronly nurse’s eyes darts over her tablet.

  “Her heart rate spiked,” she tells Towley.

  “I don’t like to fly,” I lie, desperately trying to cover my tracks.

  Towley eyes me warily. “I’ve seen footage of you jumping unprecedented heights with your telekinesis in Italy.”

  “That’s different than a tin can that can plummet out of the sky.”

  He laughs and turns his back on me. “Has she eaten?”

  The nurse shakes her head.

  “Probably for the best. Ensure there are sick bags aboard on the off chance that we experience turbulence.”

  “The aircraft is prepped, Sir,” a soldier interrupts. “We move on your word.”

  “What’s happening?” I ask Adam. “They’re moving me?” I can feel my heart beat speeding once more, and the nurse flashes Towley a glance at the tablet screen.

  “We’ve just received word. We’re awaiting further details about the location. Just hang in there.”

  Towley leans over me. “We shan’t be in the air long. Once we arrive, it’ll be like a home away from home.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  He straightens up, adjusting his collar as he does so. “Facility One, of course.”

  “You’re being transported to a location in Scotland,” Adam tells me, unable to keep the anxiety out of his thoughts.

  “Facility One.” Those two words sound choked in my mind.

  “No, Baby, Facility One was destroyed by Isaac—”

  “I’m not guessing, Adam. He is taking me to Facility One. Do something.”

  Towley strides ahead with his entourage. The nurse keeps close pace with him, talking in hushed tones. All I can see is the ceiling as I’m wheeled back down the corridor.

  Once out of the lift, Towley ensures the offices are clear of staff, and then gestures for the soldiers to continue on. The th
rum of propellers is clear before we even make it outside. The weather has taken a turn for the worse since my arrival. Rain pelts my face, and the soldiers run faster to hand me over to those waiting outside the drop ramp of the plane. I recognise some of the marines as those who carried me into the facility. The facility soldiers look relieved to be handing me off, and the nurse gives Towley the tablet before giving me one final look of distaste.

  The bed judders as it is wheeled up the ramp and into a spacious cargo hold of some sort. Chairs line the sides of the space, and Towley and his men take their seats. The bed is attached to something, but I still feel vulnerable lying here like a piece of meat.

  “Adam?”

  “We’re working on it, Teds.”

  “There’s nothing you can do without jeopardising everything.” This has to play out. Suck it up, Teddie. “I’ll see you in Scotland.”

  “Hang in there.”

  “Please, just get to Scotland..”

  “I’m already on my way.”

  ***

  Despite being restrained to the bed, my stomach swoops as the aircraft takes off into the night sky. The summer storm is pretty grizzly, rain battering the shell of the plane and the wind rocking us ominously. It’s not hard to feign a fear of flying in these conditions. Even Towley grips at his seat, knuckles turning white. The soldiers, however, don’t appear fazed by the potential to fall out of the sky.

  They watch me like a spectacle in a circus. I’m cuffed with kinetic energy reader cuffs on both my ankles and wrists, I have some kind of monster tag in the top of my back, and I’m flying in a tin can through a storm. It’s not like I’m about to perform some feat of telekinesis here and now. Still, they can’t take their curious eyes off of me.

  Choosing to avoid their intense gazes, I stare up at the top of the plane and try to work out how the hell Facility One survived Isaac’s attack. No matter how they pulled it back from the ashes, the thought of being there for any length of time makes my blood run cold. It’s going to take Adam and the team hours to get there by road, and that’s not including any issues they may encounter on the trip, or the new plans that need to be organised to get into the facility. If they reveal their open access to Towley’s tech systems, or the involvement of his Technokins before the time is right, I’m dead. He’ll know that my being here was nothing more than a ruse to get close to his Technokins.

  “This weather is particularly unfortunate,” Towley shouts over the noise.

  “This is nothing, Sir. We’ve flown through worse,” the older marine shouts back. “There are more things to be concerned with on this plane than a little inclement weather.” His eyes flick in my direction.

  “I think it is safe to say that Theyda Leason is a shadow of her former self. We successfully eradicated her TORO lover during the detention centre raid, and effectively broke that woman right there.”

  “Adam Lovick is dead?” another marine questions him. “I mean, is Adam Lovick dead, Sir?”

  “He was killed in the blast, along with numerous other members of the EVO terrorist cells.”

  The older marine shakes his head, still never taking his eyes from me. “You say that she is broken, Prime Minister, I say that she has nothing left to lose.”

  “You soldiers, ever the cynics,” Towley says, laughing. The plane tremors from turbulence, and he grips his chair once again. “What say you, Theyda?”

  Focus falls on me, yet again. Expectation and anticipation crackles through the air as they prepare to hear what the infamous Theyda has to say for herself.

  “I’m passed caring,” I say, keeping my eyes on the metal ceiling above me.

  It is as if the air is let out of a balloon. I’m not sure what they were expecting. What I want to say and what I have to say to maintain the ruse are so far apart that I feel guilty for playing the part of the down-trodden, lethargic EVO, who in their eyes, led the rebellion… terrorist cells as they call us.

  “You’re passed caring?” I recognise the venomous tones of the soldier who accused me of murdering innocent Non-EVO. “You don’t get to be passed caring. If it wasn’t for you, then this wouldn’t have started.”

  “Isaac started it, and I finished him, but that wasn’t enough for you, was it?” I speak more to Towley than to him. “You could have accepted that we exist, smoothly integrated us into society, but you carried on imprisoning us, torturing us, treating us as inferiors. That was why I picked up the ball that Isaac dropped and ran with it.”

  Towley clasps his hands on his lap. “And now?”

  Realising that I may have let my emotions get the better of me, I tilt my head away from him in mock resignation. “Like I said, I’m passed caring.”

  The marine growls out loud and kicks at my bed, causing the metal to clash against Towley’s chair. Even though I am strapped down, I jerk painfully against the restraints.

  “Mangard! Remember whose company you keep,” the older marine shouts across the plane.

  The marine lowers his head. “I apologise, Prime Minister. I have lost friends due to the EVO bombings. Being in close proximity to this woman is testing me to my limits.”

  Towley waves his hand dismissively. “I fully understand, but you must refrain from physical outbursts or I shall have you court-martialled.”

  “Yes, Sir.” The marine redirects his attention to picking his nails.

  Closing my eyes, I try to block out the small talk, the thunder that sounds like it’s knocking on the plane door, and the fear of what is to come.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Landing is rough, and my body tenses painfully against the restraints. The force of touching down jars my neck, and despite my best efforts, sound escapes my lips. Towley’s hand finds my own under the tangle of blankets, out of the sight of the soldiers. I wish I could pull away from him.

  “Facility One Team are assembled for patient intake,” the pilot’s voice echoes around the plane. “Hand over in minus five minutes. Sorry, lads, but we are grounded until this weather clears.”

  “Seeing as we have Britain’s highest security prisoner in our custody, it may be wise that you all remain as security detail for the Facility,” Towley adds. “Despite Theyda’s resignation, there may be others in her organisation who don’t share her feelings on her incarceration.”

  I laugh bitterly. “There is no organisation, not anymore. They all looked to me like I was some kind of messiah. Now, they’re either starving or dead. Aside from freeing the detainees, the food was one of the main reasons for the detention centre raids, and as you probably know, about eighty percent of the stock went up in a fire ball.”

  “As well as your lover,” Mangard adds. “Taste of your own medicine.”

  “Marine!” Towley snaps. “Last chance.”

  The soldier apologises, and then the door at the back of the plane opens, letting in a wicked gale. Footsteps clunk over the metal ramp, and the bed is released from its shackles. I’m wheeled out into the stormy night, lit by floodlights. My bed is surrounded by soldiers forming a solid wall as they usher the bed over what sounds and feels to be gravel. I can’t shield myself from the downpour, so I close my eyes against the onslaught. I’m grateful for the blanket and the restraints that hold it over my body.

  The smell of smoke and charred wood still lingers heavily inside. The building is lit with electric lanterns that hang on blackened walls. The building is a shell with metal scaffolds holding certain areas in place. Why bring me here?

  A lift stands absurdly against the decimated back drop. The doors are blackened from flames, but they ping open, providing artificial light. I recognise these lifts. We’re going below.

  I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Everything down here is just as it was. The walls and floors are the same cold, concrete-grey I remember. The stark lighting is accompanied by the hiss of the air supply vents, and the smell… that smell. Although it is laced with a barbecue stench from the building above, dread clasps at my guts as the damp, mildew scent o
f being underground churns up memories. The bed is wheeled passed the shower block and onto the canteen.

  “You’re surprised,” Towley says. “Isaac’s men decimated upstairs, but couldn’t gain access to the lower levels. The facility is built in such a way that the two levels can be sealed off from the other.”

  I don’t reply. I swore to myself that I would never come back here, and I wasn’t sad to see the place in flames. It feels like I’ve gone full circle back to where I started.

  As we approach Golding’s old cell, my heart hammers in my chest. Towley checks his tablet, and then places his fingers to my jugular. “Oh, the Kersey boy was in this cell, am I right?” Again, I don’t reply. “I was surprised to hear that you left his and Haydn Smith’s bodies at the complex in Italy.”

  “It wasn’t a decision made lightly,” I reply.

  Soldiers stand guard outside Golding’s old cell. The doors are different. The solid door has been replaced with thick bars. People shuffle to the bars; at least five that I can see in the one cell. All of them look sallow and despondent, and all wear collars and cuffs. The soldiers point their weapons, barking at them to get away from the bars. Thin mattresses dot the floor in amongst a mess of blankets.

  “That’s Theyda Leason,” I hear them whisper to each other.

  The same scenario plays out in Yana’s and Haydn’s old cells. Both are full with ashen- skinned EVO, and they all whisper about Towley’s latest addition. One woman starts crying as soon as she sees me, screaming that the resistance is over and how no one is coming to save them. Her cries spur panic in her cellmates. I want to reassure them that we’re working on one last ditch attempt, that my being here isn’t a sign of defeat. I want to say it, but I can’t. I want to say it, but I don’t one hundred percent believe it myself.

  The next cell we come to is my old one. Unlike the others, the solid door is still in place.

  Towley leads us inside, guiding the bed into the usual corner. “Home away from home,” he says, running a finger over the top of the locker.